The Greatest Trick

Those who enjoy a good conspiracy thriller are in for a treat with State of Play; an intelligent but not too serious thriller that ticks all the necessary boxes for films in this genre. Present and correct are corporate corruption, paranoia and an old-school cynical journalist who discovers, to his horror, that “this-goes-all-the-way-to-the-top”.

The plot is kicked off with an apparently drug related shooting and a suicide in suspicious circumstances. Washington Globe journalist Cal McAffrey (Russell Crowe) is contacted by his old friend and Congressman Stephen Collins (Ben Affleck), urging him to investigate, and soon links are uncovered between the deaths which lead back to a group of powerful defence contractors.

Crowe is good. In fact, I can’t help but notice he is better in roles where he has longer hair or plenty of stubble. Affleck is less good, though perfectly adequate, and there is terrific support from Helen Mirren as McAffrey’s acid tongued but long suffering editor Cameron Lynne. Elsewhere there are good bit parts for Robin Wright Penn as Collin’s distraught wife Anne and Rachel McAdams as Della Frye, who works alongside McAffrey and helps him uncover the conspiracy. Although he is initially dismissive of her talents (she is a blogger and he doesn’t conceal his disdain for online journalism), McAffrey gradually comes to respect her, and their relationship is refreshingly bereft of romantic complications. Rounding out the supporting cast are Jeff Daniels as a corrupt senator, and rather amusingly Brennan Brown (from the “Don’t let a mobile phone ruin your movie” Orange ads) has a small role which unfortunately made me want to laugh every time he appeared on screen as I expected him to say something silly like “I financed this film so I’ll do as a lizzle”.

Although I haven’t seen the BBC TV series upon which State of Play was based, I understand that it has survived the Hollywood transition surprisingly well. Tony Gilroy (Michael Clayton, Duplicity) had a hand in the screenplay, alongside Billy Ray and Matthew Michael Carnahan. In adapting Paul Abbot’s original, their version is certainly very entertaining. It’s also well directed by Kevin Macdonald (The Last King of Scotland, Touching the Void, One Day in September) who keeps things slightly rough around the edges. One or two set pieces really crank up the suspense – especially one in an underground car park (a favourite setting in this genre).

To summarise, whilst this isn’t in the same league as great 70’s conspiracy thrillers like The Parallax View or The Conversation, not to mention fact based journalistic dramas such as All the President’s Men which it is akin to, State of Play is still very enjoyable stuff.

Simon Dillon, April 2009.

Armando Iannucci’s In the Loop is a spin off from the BBC TV series The Thick of It. Essentially Yes Minister with loads of swearing, The Thick of It acquired a cult following as a scathing satire on the New Labour spin culture. In the Loop takes it’s most acerbic character Malcolm Tucker (the excellent Peter Capaldi) and places him in a painfully funny and disturbingly believable tale of political shenanigans and dodgy dossiers as the US pushes for a war in the Middle East and tries to get the UK on its side.

In addition to the brilliant Capaldi, the rest of the cast do well in their various roles, especially Tom Hollander as cowardly politician Simon Foster whose inept mutterings to the press earn Tucker’s wrath (“You sounded like a Nazi Julie Andrews!”). James Gandolfini (from the Sopranos) is also hilarious as a US general opposed to the war, Steve Coogan has an amusing cameo as one of Foster’s disgruntled constituents, and there are good supporting parts for Anna Chlumsky, David Rasche, Chris Addison, Joanna Scanlan and Zach Woods.

Armando Iannucci’s TV and radio back catalogue is an embarrassment of riches which includes Alan Partridge, Brass Eye and the monumentally brilliant The Day Today. In the Loop doesn’t quite attain that level of genius, but its still terrific stuff, with Iannucci himself in the director’s chair. In places it plays like a modern version of Dr Strangelove, but with swearing.

And herein lies my main problem with the film. The relentless, “enough-to-make-a-sailor-blush” profanity is undeniably funny at times, but I am also left with the nagging suspicion that it wasn’t entirely necessary. Yes Minister and Dr Strangelove, as well as Iannucci’s The Day Today, did much the same thing without swearing (or in the case of The Day Today, by bleeping out the worst of it). On the other hand, filthy language is such a defining characteristic of the odious Malcolm Tucker (allegedly based on Alistair Campbell), that perhaps without it his character would be nowhere near as effective.

Swear words aside, this is an absolutely merciless satire; so scathing it will leave New Labour with third degree burns. It’s often screamingly funny, but the laughter leaves a bitter taste in the mouth since it is clearly based on the farce that led the UK into war in Iraq. As a damning indictment of spineless politicians and their advisors, this is fierce stuff and highly recommended.

Simon Dillon, April 2009.

As a general rule of thumb, it’s unwise to remake a classic film. However, remaking a film that clearly had room for improvement can sometimes work. Steven Soderbergh’s remake of Oceans 11 was vastly superior to the original, the third version of The Bounty is my preferred version, and many critics who blast remakes overlook the fact that several films they refer to as classics – The Big Sleep for instance – are remakes. I am by no means justifying the many excruciatingly bad remakes that clog up multiplexes on an increasingly regular basis, but they can sometimes turn out to be a good idea.

In the case of Race to Witch Mountain, a loose remake of Disney’s 1975 Escape to Witch Mountain, both films are much of a muchness. It’s a not exactly brilliant remake of a not exactly brilliant original. That said I have fond childhood memories of the original even if the special effects do not hold up these days. Perhaps that was the reason Disney decided to give the movie a fresh lick of paint.

The plot concerns two alien children with strange powers, Sara (AnnaSophia Robb) and Seth (Alexander Ludwig), who get into the taxi of cynical Vegas cab driver Jack Bruno (Dwayne Johnson). In order to save our world, they need to get back to their crashed alien spacecraft which is hidden deep inside Witch Mountain, a top secret government facility run by men in black types led by Henry Burke (Ciaran Hinds). Along the way they are helped by astrophysicist Dr Alex Friedman (Carla Gugino), whose presentation of a genuine alien crash landing is amusingly met with scepticism at a UFO nerd’s convention. They are also hindered by the mob, Burke’s agents and a Terminator type alien bounty hunter that looks like the Anubis alien super soldiers from Stargate.

Director Andy Fickman keeps things ticking at a nice pace, and there are some genuine thrills, spills and spectacular special effects in the many chase scenes. The family friendly screenplay ensures things are exciting and dangerous but not too violent or scary, despite several opportunities for Dwayne Johnson to get into punch-ups, and the afore-mentioned alien bounty hunter sequences. The performances are all decent, and the kids aren’t annoying, despite the unwelcome inclusion of the inevitable canine helper.

As a trade-off with the original film, the visual effects and general pace in the remake are undeniably superior. However, the children also know they are aliens immediately in the new version, whereas part of the fun of the original was the mystery as to who these children really were. They had amnesia and couldn’t remember where they really came from, only that they had to get to witch mountain. What is also irritating about the new film are the constant visual references to Close Encounters of the Third Kind (witch mountain resembles the Devil’s Tower, there’s the obligatory, “it’s-a-UFO! Oh-no-its-really-a-lorry!” shot, and so on). They are annoying because they kept reminding me how staggeringly spectacular that film is in the cinema, and made me wish I was watching that instead.

That said, for family entertainment, one can do far worse. Like the original, it’s a decent, but not brilliant film.

Simon Dillon, April 2009.

The first thing to note about Let the Right One In is that it is the finest horror film this decade. By horror film, I don’t mean it is akin to mindlessly gruesome, offensive and frankly unscary movies like Saw or Hostel. True horror films are frightening because they create believable and/or likeable characters caught up in terrifying situations that ruthlessly, sadistically and cathartically examine our deepest fears, not because blood and gore is frightening in itself. Let the Right One In doesn’t skimp on gore, but it employs such images sparsely and selectively, complimenting rather than dominating the story.

At its heart, this is really an ultra dark fairy tale about the dangers of isolation and loneliness. Twelve year old Oskar (Kare Hedebrant) is desperate to be loved by his separated parents but neither has the time for him. He spends his time staring out across the snow-covered tenement buildings where he lives indulging in revenge fantasies against school bullies. However, his life changes forever when he meets twelve year old Eli (Lina Leandersson), a girl who moves in next door that turns out to be a vampire. Oskar falls in love with her. In the meantime, the man Eli calls father, Hakan (Per Ragnar), goes out to kill for her, but a combination of exhaustion, ineptitude and bad conscience at years of murder causes him to be end up hospitalised, which forces Eli to fend for herself. At this point, a group of malcontent middle aged people from the tenement buildings are drawn into the plot when one of them, Jocke (Mikhael Rahm), is killed by Eli. Jocke’s best friend Lacke (Ika Nord) then becomes determined to track her down.

Recently, the vampire movie has become moribund, degenerating into mindless action (the Blade films), spoof (Lesbian Vampire Killers), and worst of all, bland teenage romance (Twilight, or as I prefer to call it Twiglet, with its ridiculous “vegetarian” vampires). However, this film injects some much needed fresh blood into the genre in a number of ways.

First, the story takes place in the early 80s amid miserable high-rise tenement buildings that feel like the Swedish equivalent of a Mike Leigh or Ken Loach setting. Mixing mythology with realism proved hugely successful in Pan’s Labyrinth (fairy tale with war) and here the results are similar. The characters in the film, whether vampire or human, go about leading quietly desperate, depressing lives, in fear of Soviet incursions into Swedish waters (as overheard on the television). One is occasionally reminded not only of previous “serious” vampire films like Nosferatu and Martin but also Ingmar Bergman’s work, especially The Silence.

Second, Let the Right One In eschews much of the silliness that has sprung up around vampire mythology. There are no stakes or garlic, nor even a church to hide in, but instead the film is built around the idea not only of what happens when you knowingly invite a vampire into your house, but the consequences of what happens if you don’t and they choose to come in anyway. Yet in spite of this and the immortality issue (which is amusingly alluded to when Eli shows Oskar a priceless Faberge egg), the vampires are stripped of much of their supernatural baggage and instead are presented as amoral creatures. Like any other predator they simply need to feed.

Third, John Ajvide Lindqvist’s screenplay (adapting his own novel), and Tomas Alfredson’s brilliant direction avoids cheap, obvious tricks. There are no jump-out-of- the-skin shocks, no he’s-behind-you moments and no flashy whiplash MTV type editing to try and generate false tension. Instead, the film is a slow burn of escalating dread, with nightmarish menace oozing from every shot, even simple ones like exteriors of buildings in the darkness. Like The Wicker Man, it is also highly disturbing in retrospect. The more one thinks about it afterwards, the more horrifying one realises it is. The ending in particular, which can be read a number of ways, is bleak however it is interpreted for reasons that aren’t initially obvious. In fact, it is probably destined to be the most widely debated ending since Blade Runner. Even Lindqvist and Alfredson differ as to how it should be interpreted (the novel ends more unambiguously, but that ending is still one of the possible readings of the film). On top of this there is an already controversial blink-and-you-miss-it shot akin to the unicorn dream sequence in Blade Runner that casts the character of Eli in a whole new light, and opens up unsettling questions about her past.

Such ambiguity will no doubt be absent from the inevitable, recently announced Hollywood remake for those who can’t be bothered to read subtitles. However, in the meantime, this macabre yet beautiful, slow but gripping instant masterpiece is a must-see for anyone with a serious love of cinema. The brilliant performances, direction and screenplay are complimented by excellence on every technical level; including cinematography, editing, music and sound (always critical in a horror film).

Spiritually, the nihilistic worldview is obviously something Christians will be at odds with, since God is entirely absent from proceedings. Additionally, it is undeniably disturbing (yet also genius on the part of the filmmakers) the way the audience is manipulated into being sympathetic to Oskar and Eli even when they are involved in murder. Logically, viewer sympathy ought to be with Lacke on account of everything he has suffered, but therein perhaps lies a deeper, albeit not immediately obvious message that can be learnt from the ultimate fates of both Lacke and (if you think about it) Oskar: isolation feeds the desire for revenge, and revenge is a really, really bad idea.

Simon Dillon, April 2009.

Those who think the original version of The Blob (starring “Steven” McQueen with its hilarious title song “Beware of the Blob”) is a neglected classic are in for a treat with Monsters vs Aliens. It takes a love of 1950s sci-fi B-movie lore to fully appreciate its cast of colourful and bizarre characters. Each one is a nod to said 50s B-movies, including blue brainless blob B.O.B. (The Blob), a mad scientist fused with a cockroach appropriately called Dr Cockroach (The Fly), an aquatic reptilian monster called The Missing Link (The Creature from the Black Lagoon), a vast half dinosaur half insect called Insectosaurus (presumably a homage to monsters like Mothra in the Godzilla films) and finally Ginormica, a forty nine foot twelve inch woman (Attack of the Fifty Foot Woman). Incidentally her height is apparently thus because of copyright issues with fifty foot women.

Ginormica is the latest addition to a secret government facility where these monsters are housed by General WR Monger to hide them from the outside world. In her former life Ginormica was called Susan, until on her wedding day a meteor containing strange energy crashed next to her causing her to mutate into a giant at the altar. Understandably Susan is rather miffed at all this, and wants to return to her normal size so she can get back to her drippy, selfish fiancé Derek. She gets the chance to do so when the government call on her and the other monsters to repel an alien invasion by the amusingly egotistical four-eyed Gallaxhar.

Directors Rob Letterman and Conrad Vernon ensure the animation is almost up to Pixar standards, and the vocal cast – including Reese Witherspoon, Seth Rogan, Hugh Laurie, and Kiefer Sutherland – all contribute highly amusing performances. Stephen Colbert’s hilariously inept President Hathaway is also worthy of a special mention since he steals every scene he is in. From the hilarious first contact with the aliens (when the famous Close Encounters five tones don’t work, Hathaway launches into Harold Faltermeyer’s Axel F), to the Dr Strangelove inspired war room scene where the huge red button launching all nuclear warheads is directly next to an identical huge red button that makes him a cup of coffee, Colbert’s inspired lunacy ensures the adults are laughing as much as the children.

The flaw amid the fun – and its quite a serious one – is the plot. Although there are some suitably hilarious and deranged set pieces (particularly one involving a giant robot on the Golden Gate Bridge), the script is predictable and fails to grip the way a Pixar feature does. Its messages about discovering who you really are, doing things for yourself, female empowerment, friendship and so forth are not as poignantly explored as they could have been in more skilled (Pixar) hands.

That said, Monsters vs Aliens is still a fun and entertaining slice of nonsense for all the family, and well worth a look.

Simon Dillon, April 2009.

As someone who has absolutely no interest in football whatsoever, I was pleasantly surprised by how much I enjoyed The Damned United; the true (or true-ish) story of legendary football manager Brian Clough. It’s not really about football per se, but more a character study that doesn’t ignore Clough’s obsessive personality yet still generates sympathy for him in his long standing feud against Don Revie, the manager of Leeds.

Football matches are wisely kept offscreen most of the time, with director Tom Hooper instead opting to show Clough nervously awaiting the outcome. The 1970s atmosphere is richly conveyed through clichéd but effective means (sideburns, parker jackets etc), and Peter Morgan’s flashback structured screenplay goes some way to showing in an understated way how much football matters in Britain (though I remain unconvinced).

As Clough, Michael Sheen once again excels. After a terrific run of mimic performances (Tony Blair and David Frost are among those in his back catalogue), one wonders if he will ever succeed as well playing a fictional character. The supporting cast are also good – particularly Colm Meaney’s Revie, Jim Broadbent as Derby County Chairman Sam Longson and best of all the excellent Timothy Spall as Clough’s assistant manager Peter Taylor. The relationship between Clough and Taylor is the film’s main focus and an interesting study in how one person can need another to succeed (as Clough’s disastrous management attempt without Taylor to back him up ultimately proves).

Admittedly, this is a slight tale, and feels more like a two act than three act film. Another minus for some Christian audiences will be the swearing (the F word is given a thorough workout). That said, The Damned United does enough for the unconverted (or uninterested) to keep them watching. In fact, a complete ignorance of the facts is probably a bonus as it adds a degree of suspense to the story, although even I knew that Leeds had – and still have – a reputation for dirty tactics on the pitch. I have no idea how much of this is fabrication, but despite protests from Clough’s family who did not approve of the film (or David Peace’s book on which it was based), it does still have redemptive elements that paint Clough as an arrogant, flawed but brilliant man.

Simon Dillon, April 2009.