The Greatest Trick

The brilliant Casino Royale, which just gets better with every viewing, was always going to be a tough act to follow. It casts a long shadow over Quantum of Solace, and it doesn’t help matters that the film is a direct sequel. This is the first time the Bond films have ever taken this approach. There is a brief mention of Dr No in From Russia with Love but both are completely self contained films, these aren’t.

Casting an equally long, and frankly unhelpful, shadow over the film is the Bourne franchise. Whilst it is fair to say the Bourne films were influential in a positive way on Casino Royale, frankly I’m not so certain in this case. The Bourne films are a distinct and unique in their own right, whereas Bond needs to be Bond and frankly, in this film, he needed to lighten up a little.

That said there are still moments of humour in this darker, tougher entry in the series. It’s not the most violent Bond film (Licence to Kill still has that dubious honour), but it’s certainly more vicious than usual. The plot concerns Bond attempting to track down those responsible for Vesper Lynd’s death, and in doing so uncovers the sinister Quantum organization. The trail leads to one of its operatives, Dominic Greene (Mathieu Almaric), an environmentalist businessman who is also being investigated by Camille (Olga Kurylenko), out for revenge for reasons of her own.

The screenplay by Paul Haggis, Neal Purvis and Robert Wade feels as though it could have done with another polish, and I wonder whether or not the writers strike affected the production of the film. It’s interesting that directly following the longest ever Bond film (Casino Royale) was the shortest (Quantum clocks in at a trim 106 minutes). Yet bizarrely it doesn’t feel short. That doesn’t mean it isn’t good, but the plot is somewhat confused. Director Marc Forster, best known for low key dramas like Monsters Ball, is a fairly solid choice of helmsman, but not all the action scenes convince. For instance, the opening car chase fails to raise the same excitement as, say, the crane chase/fight in Casino Royale. Even when the action scenes do work, they often recall the Bourne franchise too much. An exciting roof top chase keeps bringing to mind a similar chase in The Bourne Ultimatum. To be fair, that chase was over flat roofs, whereas these roofs have tiles that slip and slide dangerously. Perhaps the filmmakers felt this made it sufficiently different.

On the plus side, Daniel Craig is excellent in the role, and as far as I’m concerned he’s the best since Sean Connery. Supporting roles aren’t bad either, especially Olga Kurylenko, Judi Dench (M) Giancarlo Giannini (Mathis, reprising his role from the previous film) and Jeffrey Wright (Felix Leiter). Gemma Arterton’s part is amusing but pointless, although it does culminate in a neat Goldfinger homage.

Another brief point on the music: the Alicia Keys/Jack White title track has received a lot of flak, but after a few listens, its not quite as terrible as I first thought. The rest of David Arnold’s score is good too.

In short, this is an average Bond film, but it’s still better than the entire Pierce Brosnan era. Besides, for all its flaws, one can’t really miss a Bond film and this one still entertains.

Simon Dillon, November 2008.

Is The Dark Knight a great film? I don’t know. It’s certainly an unusually good one, but I suspect it is not the masterpiece everyone claims. As I write this I know I could well end up eating my words, because I felt the same way about Batman Begins when that was initially released. However, after repeated viewings I now consider that film to be the best Batman film, despite at the time preferring Tim Burton’s twisted fairytale take on the franchise.

The plot begins in suitably explosive fashion as the Joker (Heath Ledger) stages an audacious, Heat-esque bank heist. Following this, Batman (Christian Bale) captures the Scarecrow (Cillian Murphy), presumably for no other reason than to tie up a loose end from the previous film. We are then reintroduced to honest cop and soon to be Commissioner, James Gordon (Gary Oldman), and DA Harvey Dent (Aaron Eckhart), who with Rachel Dawes (Maggie Gyllenhaal) is working hard to put the mob behind bars. With Dent’s crusade in full swing, Bruce Wayne thinks it might be time to hang up the Bat cape and move on. However, when the Joker begins to target public officials, events escalate and take a much darker turn.

With The Dark Knight, there are a number of bubbles I feel the need to, if not exactly burst, then deflate slightly. Firstly and most obviously, there is the issue of Heath Ledger’s performance. Since his tragic death earlier in the year, critics have been excitedly waxing lyrical about a potential posthumous Oscar. Whilst it is true that Ledger is superb in the role and manages to surpass Jack Nicholson’s take on the character (no mean feat), he is no more impressive than Christian Bale, again excellent as both Batman and playboy Bruce Wayne. Equally impressive are Gary Oldman, again brilliantly cast against type, and particularly Aaron Eckhart, who contribute a performance of infinitely greater subtlety than Ledger. Yet unlike the Joker, because they are not the showy roles the Academy loves it is unlikely any of them will be nominated. Elsewhere in the cast, there are solid supporting turns from Morgan Freeman, Michael Caine and Maggie Gyllenhaal (who replaced Katie Holmes).

My next complaint may seem like nit-picking to most viewers, but I was once again disappointed with James Newton Howard and Hans Zimmer’s music score. Admittedly the music works effectively enough, but they have deliberately eschewed the big epic themes that prove so memorable in great superhero movies of old, such as Superman and Tim Burton’s version of Batman. The current trend towards more percussive underscores irritates me greatly, especially where it is appropriate to write big bold themes. The argument for doing this goes something like “big themes lack subtlety”, but with a great composer this is actually completely untrue. Take for example John Williams’ epic orchestrations of the Darth Vader march. There are many superb and infinitely subtle variations of it played throughout the Star Wars films from epic to fast, exciting, scary, sinister, melancholy and tragic. And everyone knows the theme. Ever since Erich von Korngold’s magnificent music score for The Adventures of Robin Hood in 1938, classic adventure films have benefited greatly from recognisable themes. My four year old son instantly recognises the unforgettable music for that, Superman and many other classic adventure movies. But no-one will be humming the themes from Iron Man or The Dark Knight in twenty or thirty years.

Director Christopher Nolan abandons his trademark non-linear narratives here for the first time, and directs with considerable flair, especially in the stunning, gadget driven action sequences and some very tense moments (one in particular involving hostages on ferries). The tough, gritty feel of Batman Begins is maintained here, and ultimately the screenplay feels more like an epic crime drama than a comic book. Needless to say, the visual and sound effects are first rate, but as a whole, I feel the story is less satisfying than its predecessor, despite the presence of a proper villain this time.

Speaking of which, Ledger plays the Joker not so much as a person but as an evil force. He has no character arc, no background and no name. He doesn’t fear death or pain, and seems to take a masochistic delight when on the receiving end of violence. If anything, it seems to make him stronger. Even when incarcerated, he is absolutely unstoppable, utterly psychotic and apparently without motivation. At one point he says he’s like a dog chasing a car. He wouldn’t know what to do with one if he caught it. The Joker could be symbolic of something like international terrorism. Indeed, much of the film can be taken as an allegory of post 9/11 America and its responses to that tragedy, including how good men can turn evil in their responses to such atrocity. Is Harvey Dent ultimately a symbol of the Bush Administration’s more controversial reactions, such as the invasion of Iraq and Guantanamo bay? If so, then The Dark Knight is also a pseudo-Biblical tale, with the Joker obviously representing Satan and Batman representing if not exactly God then some kind of force for good in the battle for Harvey Dent’s soul.

SPOILER WARNING: My feelings about the ending were somewhat ambivalent. On the one hand, the idea of Batman taking on Harvey Dent’s sins and destroying his own reputation in the process brings a Christ-like dimension to his character. On the other hand, he is lying, and I’m always uneasy where lying for the greater good is seen as a positive moral quality. That said, overall, The Dark Knight is a very good, but flawed, comic book adventure. Perhaps I will look more favourably on it with repeated viewings, so with that in mind I do recommend seeing it.

Simon Dillon, July 2008.

Before I am flooded with responses from those unable to tolerate American abuses of the Queen’s English, Journey to the Center of the Earth is an American film, hence the incorrect spelling of the word centre. Linguistic pedantry notwithstanding, this is a surprisingly entertaining film and far better than I expected.

In a niftily post-modern twist on Jules Verne’s classic novel, volcano scientist Trevor Anderson (Brendan Fraser) discovers that his brother, who mysteriously vanished ten years previously, was a “Vernean”, a member of a secret club who believe Jules Verne’s novels were factual accounts. With his thirteen year old nephew Sean and plucky mountain guide Hannah in tow, Trevor travels to Iceland to investigate mysterious readings on the same volcano where his brother vanished. Events conspire to trap them underground at the centre of the Earth where everything is precisely as described in Verne’s novel.

Part of the reason for the success of the film is the immensely likeable characters. Fraser is as fun here as he was in The Mummy. Anita Briem brings tremendous warmth and humour to the resourceful Hannah, and as Sean Josh Hutcherson is that rarity; a non-annoying kid. Michael Weiss’ swift, no-nonsense script gives each of them several opportunities to shine, and this above all will mean the film has life beyond its cinema run. Unlike other recent 3D movies such as Beowulf and The Polar Express, Journey to the Center of the Earth is interested in character and does not exclusively invest in special effects that will render the film worthless on a small screen.

That’s not to say one shouldn’t make the effort to see this in a cinema, and if possible, a 3D print. All the usual 3D money shots are present and correct, though when watching a 2D print, viewers may wonder why it was necessary for Brendan Fraser to spit on the camera lens. But regardless of whether it is viewed in 3D or 2D, director Eric Brevig creates many outstanding set pieces, my favourite of which involved magnetised rocks hovering over an abyss. Those familiar with the novel will also be pleased to see the various key events, such as the journey across the ocean, are all present and correct.

It’s not perfect. One or two nods to classic Steven Spielberg movies feel a little forced – notably a Jurassic Park style T-Rex chase and a mine car ride that shamelessly rips off Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom. Some of the effects don’t fully convince, and its certainly not groundbreaking cinema. That said if you enjoy adventure films and especially if you have children between about eight and twelve, this is a must-see. Your children will probably think its one of the best films they’ve ever seen, and it’s all the better for being clean as a whistle – no sex, violence or bad language but packed with thrills and excitement.

Simon Dillon, July 2008.

The violence in Wanted is nigh on indefensible. Sequences where bullets fly through the heads of victims in slow motion graphic detail, then rewind, are only there for one reason: titillation. Wanted is an exercise in puerile adolescent fantasy, and therefore a film that will turn off one audience and attract another.

Based on a comic strip I’ve not read, Wanted begins with spineless protagonist Wesley Gibson (James McAvoy) trapped in a meaningless dead end job and living with an unfaithful girlfriend. He knows his life is pathetic, but can’t be bothered to do anything about it. Then when Fox (Angelina Jolie) saves his life and tells him he is destined to become a member of the Fraternity – an thousand year old elite assassination secret society – his life takes a bizarre turn. He discovers his father has recently been murdered by a rogue Fraternity agent and decides to get even. But first he must learn to curve a bullet and do other equally ridiculous things, since Fraternity members all have something akin to superpowers.

This is where any pretence the film had at a Fight Club-style serious message gets lost. The Fraternity are an organisation that gets their instructions from – wait for it – a textile loom. Apparently, this mystical loom has a code embedded in the fabric that when decoded gives names of assassination targets that need to be eliminated in order to save lives. This plot contrivance is so utterly preposterous that even allowing for suspension of disbelief, it unravels at the slightest pull of a thread. Who built the loom? How has it survived for centuries? What happens if you switch it off? Why has no-one switched it off? Who was insane enough to go looking for patterns in the fabric in the first place, and why weren’t they sent to a loony bin?

Even leaving aside the monumentally daft “loom of Fate”, Wanted is absolute nonsense from start to finish. But it’s nonsense with several extremely exciting stunts. Two in particular – one involving a train, the other involving rats, are so ludicrously implausible yet undeniably thrilling, that it’s impossible not to get a little sucked into the testosterone fuelled fantasy. Russian director Timur Bekmambetov (best know for cult vampire flick Night Watch) helms his first English language effort here, and as such emulates everyone from John Woo to Sam Peckinpah, Michael Bay and the Wachowski Brothers, but shows little of the unique visual flair he demonstrated in his Russian language work.

Performances are almost an irrelevancy in the face of such a silly script, but I doubt James McAvoy is destined to become a great action figure. Angelina Jolie, who had recently proved she could act with the likes of A Mighty Heart (also apparently excellent in Clint Eastwood’s upcoming Changeling), takes a regressive, Tomb Raider type step here. Heavyweight actors Morgan Freeman and Terence Stamp also pop up in throwaway roles.

Ultimately, this is hedonistic, nihilistic mess of a film, with pornographic levels of violence, not to mention swearing and other miscellaneous content that will no doubt put off several audience members. And as I mentioned before, it is for precisely that reason that it will also attract several others.

Simon Dillon, June 2008.

Ang Lee’s 2003 version of Hulk was an interesting failure. Lee, known for such thoughtful, dramatic fare as The Ice Storm, Sense and Sensibility and Eat Drink Man Woman was a too cerebral choice for helming a Hulk movie, and the film he produced provided a plethora of existential musings on the ambivalent nature of anger, Freud and associated oedipal trauma but skimped on adrenaline pumping action. Its main problem was that it took itself far too seriously (if Schindler’s List and The Passion of the Christ can have funny bits, surely Hulk could have lightened up a bit). Subsequently, Marvel reacquired the rights and after the success of Batman Begins and Casino Royale, decided to capitalise on the current trend for “rebooting” a franchise (in other words, starting again by pretending all previous incarnations did not exist).

In contrast to Ang Lee’s version, The Incredible Hulk is a far more straightforward affair; a no-nonsense comic book movie which dispenses with the origin story in the opening credits and has action from the word go. But it’s also a much less emotionally involving story. In fact, the characters are more sympathetic in the 1977 TV movie by Kenneth Johnson (who went on to make the superb V miniseries).

That’s not to say Ed Norton isn’t good in the role of Bruce Banner, but there are maddening gaps in the plot. Rumours the film was pared down from a considerably longer cut under protest from Norton and director Louis Letterier might go some way to explaining this, but its pointless to speculate on whether this would have improved the film or not. In the meantime, we are left with the usual variation on Jekyll and Hyde – gamma radiations experiments that go wrong cause scientist Banner to become the Hulk when he gets angry. In this version, he goes undercover in Brazil trying to find a cure, leaving behind girlfriend Betty Ross (a suitably tearful Liv Tyler), whose exact involvement in the original experiment remains maddeningly unclear, again possibly as a result of the scenes left on the cutting room floor. The US military discover Banner within minutes of the film beginning (via a nifty Stan Lee cameo) and there follows a well directed action sequence reminiscent of last summers rooftop chase in The Bourne Ultimatum.

Unfortunately, as the film progresses, the action sequences become increasingly boring, and the characters less interesting. Despite the occasional interesting touch (a sequence involving sonic weapons for instance), the CG is only occasionally convincing, and a ludicrously overextended final smackdown between Hulk and monstrous nemesis Abomination (Tim Roth after taking a similar dose of gamma radiation) is utterly uninvolving and cartoonish.

Marvel clearly intend this to be a potential franchise. Alternatively, given a Tony Stark cameo at the end and with a Captain America movie announced, they might want to make an Avengers film with Iron Man, Hulk, Captain America et al, and are introducing these heroes with their own movies one by one. At any rate, on its own terms The Incredible Hulk is faintly entertaining fluff, but it’s not as smart or fun as Iron Man, which itself was no masterpiece. The smart money is still on The Dark Knight as this summer’s potentially classic comic book movie.

Simon Dillon, June 2008.

There was no artistic reason for Steven Spielberg and George Lucas to make a fourth Indiana Jones film. On the other hand, there was no artistic reason to make a second and third either. The only Indiana Jones film I actually consider a bona fide cinema classic is the first, Raiders of the Lost Ark. Its two sequels – Temple of Doom and Last Crusade – were great fun but weren’t up to the quality of the original. That said, they gained a special place in the hearts of cinema audiences in the 1980s, and that is why expectations for the fourth film are very high, even though equaling Last Crusade and Temple of Doom (the weakest installment) is actually not a particularly tall order. Unlike the Star Wars prequels, Indy 4 is not hamstrung by a pre-ordained plot, nor does it have to live up to three illustrious predecessors.

All of which brings me to the good news: Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull is better than Temple of Doom, and almost as good as Last Crusade. The action is updated to the 1950’s at the height of the Cold War, where the audience is immediately re-introduced (via a nifty silhouette) to an older, lonelier Indiana Jones. Harrison Ford still looks the part, but it’s clear, as he says in his own words that “this isn’t as easy as it used to be”.

After an absolutely stunning opening sequence involving Area 51 and a nuclear weapon, Indy is suspended from his teaching position under suspicion of being a communist sympathizer. Enter Mutt Williams (Shia LaBeouf), who zooms up on his motorbike looking like James Dean from The Wild One. He tells Indy that his mother has been kidnapped by Russian agents searching for a mythical Crystal Skull, which supposedly has power to bestow infinite knowledge on whoever returns it to a lost city somewhere in the Amazon.

The plot is, of course, total nonsense, but its nonsense with a hint of truth. Previously, the only Indiana Jones film with a genuinely fascinating object at the centre of its quest was the first, with the Ark of the Covenant. In the sequels, the Sankara Stones and Holy Grail were both a bit weak. However, there have been genuine Crystal Skulls discovered, and the technology that created them is still a mystery to those who have studied them. All of which makes the Stargate-esque baggage associated with them here not as silly as it first appears.

Steven Spielberg’s return to his earlier, more popular filmmaking sensibilities, is by and large a triumphant one, especially in his insistence on using real stunt work and as little CGI as possible. He maintains the look and feel of the originals, but updates the rough 1930’s Republic serial style with a more polished, pastel-hued 1950’s sheen. The late cinematographer Douglas Slocombe is replaced by Spielberg’s now regular collaborator Janusz Kaminski, who admitted that in order to imitate Slocombe, he had to learn a whole new style which stands in direct contrast to his usual burnt out imagery.

The previously mentioned nuclear bomb opening is edge of the seat stuff, especially in a wonderfully eerie moment when Indy enters a town, only to discover it’s full of mannequins and mock up buildings designed to assess the impact of the atomic energy. The penny quickly drops when he realizes he is inside the blast radius with less than a minute to detonation. Elsewhere, all elements of the Indy formula are present and correct. Supernatural treasure? Tick. Travelogue maps? Tick. Double dealing sidekicks? Tick. Spectacular vehicular chases? Tick. Secret tunnels filled with booby traps? Tick. Creepy crawlies? Tick. At least one full-on horror movie moment? Tick.

Harrison Ford is as good as ever in the lead. Having aged gracefully, his older Indy is a more melancholy figure, but still with the same weaknesses. LaBeouf, who is inexplicably hated by various internet film nerds, makes a fine sidekick. Villain duties are undertaken with relish by Cate Blanchett as a psychic (and psychotic) Russian agent. Jim Broadbent, John Hurt and Ray Winstone do very well with somewhat underwritten roles, and Karen Allen makes a welcome return as Marion, Indy’s girlfriend from the original film.

David Koepp’s screenplay (based on George Lucas’ story) is good, and provides another variation on the usual Spielberg theme of disintegrated families. On a technical level visual and sound effects are first rate, and the peerless John Williams contributes yet another brilliant music score, combining new and old themes to superb effect.

There are underlying moral messages are about redemption, the importance of family and the dangers of greed and knowledge for knowledge’s sake. SPOILER WARNING AHEAD: From a spiritual perspective the portrayal of the aliens is interestingly ambiguous as to whether or not they are good or evil. Archaeologists have frequently been baffled by places like the Giza pyramid and Mayan cities, and aliens are often cited as possibly being responsible. Of course, the Bible alludes to half fallen angel half human entities in various places (for example in Genesis chapter 6) and it seems likely that these beings were worshipped as gods. If they were today mistaken for aliens, it could be down to years of Hollywood movies and UFO stories permeating human consciousness, which begs the question of how much of a co-incidence this all is. Is mankind is being slowly conditioned for a great deception? Possibly. Does this mean Christians shouldn’t watch films about aliens? Of course they can, but it is interesting how many non-Christians who reject the notion of a Christian God embrace the notion of UFOs and aliens.

However, it’s doubtful most audiences, Christian or otherwise, will think about such things whilst viewing this immensely entertaining movie. Unlike Raiders of the Lost Ark, this is not the greatest adventure film ever made, but if you enjoyed Temple of Doom and Last Crusade, you will certainly enjoy this.

Simon Dillon, May 2008.

The silly season begins with Iron Man, an amiable slice of mindless nonsense that evaporates from memory almost as the closing credits roll. Based on the Marvel comic from the 1960’s, the plot concerns Howard Hughes-esque weapons manufacturing billionaire Tony Stark, who has a crisis of conscience when discovering his products have fallen into the wrong hands. He then transforms himself – via a nifty robotic metal flying suit – into a superhero. Incidentally, the comic book was originally set during Vietnam, but has been cannily updated to the present, so the initial action, and the catalyst for Stark’s transformation, occurs in Afghanistan.

Performances are all reasonable, especially from Robert Downey Jr, who seems to be enjoying himself immensely. He correctly interprets his eccentric character as someone who really enjoys the thrill of being a superhero, rather than an angst ridden figure like Batman, and as such elevates the film above its predictable “origin story” plot. Gwyneth Paltrow is fine as a sort-of love interest/assistant, particularly in her evident disdain for Stark’s womanising. When one of Stark’s conquests asks about her job whilst being escorted out of his mansion, she replies acidly “Sometimes I take out the trash”. Elsewhere, Terrence Howard makes a good fist of put upon military bigwig Jim Rhodes, and finally Jeff Bridges has an enjoyable if throwaway role as the villain.

Director Jon Favreau keeps things fast-paced and slick, and it goes without saying that the special effects and action scenes are spectacular. The screenplay is consistently engaging and amusing, if obvious and predictable. It even briefly threatens to have serious undertones about the morality of arms dealing, before letting the audience off the hook and unleashing the requisite mayhem.

In short, this isn’t a film that will win awards, but its fun, brain-in-neutral summer fodder, and a worthy opener to the blockbuster season.

Simon Dillon, May 2008.

Matt Damon is fast becoming one of my favourite actors. He has proved incredibly versatile, equally at home with comedy (Oceans 11), serious drama (The Talented Mr Ripley, Good Will Hunting) and in this case, action. His Jason Bourne is a hugely memorable hero – at once utterly lethal but emotionally vulnerable. Comparisons with James Bond are pointless since Bourne is such a radically different character, but nevertheless, the series is to be praised for forcing the Bond franchise to come to its senses and get back to basics with the superb Casino Royale.

Anyway, to the matter at hand. The Bourne Ultimatum is the third and not necessarily final instalment in the Bourne saga, based on Robert Ludlum’s books. I haven’t read them, so don’t know how they compare to the movies, but I can tell you this is a hugely entertaining thriller which whilst not quite equal to the first film, is definitely as good as the second. Most of the story is set niftily between the penultimate and final scenes of The Bourne Supremacy, with Bourne on the run from the CIA, who still consider him a threat. When a high-ranking US government agent attempts to disclose damaging secrets to a British journalist, Bourne is believed to be the source of the leak. Top CIA officials Noah Vosen (David Strathairn) and Ezra Kramer (Scott Glenn) once again draft in Pamela Landy (the excellent Joan Allen) to track him down. Landy wants Bourne captured alive, but Vosen and Kramer are afraid of what Bourne might have discovered about operation Blackbriar, the successor to the assassin training programme Treadstone of which Bourne was an agent. Against Landy’s wishes, they order him to be eliminated.

Thrillingly tense set pieces are the order of the day here, particularly in a terrific first act where Bourne attempts to protect Guardian journalist Simon Ross (an appropriately in-over-his-head Paddy Constantine) in Waterloo station. Later highlights include a brilliantly sustained roof-top chase in Tangier, culminating in a spectacularly violent punch-up, and a couple of first-rate vehicular chases (a staple of the Bourne pics). Along the way, Bourne’s emerging conscience continues to bother him as he feels regret for the murders he has committed. He gets help from former CIA operative Nicky Parsons (Julia Stiles), with whom it is hinted he once had a romantic relationship prior to his amnesia.

Director Paul “What’s-a-tripod?” Greengrass uses his shakycam to good effect, John Powell’s now familiar music score is present and correct, and cinematographer Oliver Wood makes great use of real locations including London, Tangier and New York. Whether or not The Bourne Ultimatum will stand up to multiple viewings remains to be seen, but for now this comes highly recommended. It doesn’t quite reach the same nerve-shredding heights as the first two series of 24, but after a fairly lacklustre summer blockbuster season, it’s great to finally see something that increases the pulse rate.

Some disturbingly prescient questions are raised between action scenes, albeit in an understated manner. For instance, are today’s intelligence agencies really capable of intercepting a keyword in a phone conversation? In today’s post 9/11 world where governments seem insistent on eroding civil liberties apparently for our own protection, can the CIA and its ilk be trusted with such power? Do characters like Vosen and Kramer really exist, and if so who do they answer to if anyone? Given the casual way in which they order deaths of innocent people in order to protect themselves and their dirty secrets, one can be forgiven for feeling a little paranoid by the end, if only subconsciously.

I suppose it’s only a film. But it’s also a film with an interesting spiritual subtext which I can’t discuss without giving away a part of the ending, so don’t read on if you haven’t seen it yet. Bourne is clearly after some kind of absolution or even redemption from the life he has led. He is desperate to regain his memories and find out what the CIA did to him to make him such a brutal killer. But eventually he is faced with the uncompromising truth that he chose to become Jason Bourne (in scenes that feature an underused but effective Albert Finney). It’s an interesting coda that exposes the humanity of a man who perhaps wanted to believe the best about himself, but ultimately has to accept the consequences of his actions. This simple but effective character arc is what makes Bourne emotionally resonant. We all have to live with our choices.

Simon Dillon, August 2007.

Blessed are the geeks, for they shall inherit the earth. Or at least they appear to in Transformers. If they aren’t being recruited by the Pentagon to crack alien codes, they’re successfully chatting up the prettiest girl in school and diverting her from high school jocks. Director Michael Bay and his screenwriters have reinvented the Transformers franchise as a geek wish fulfilment fantasy, and in doing so have pulled off the difficult task of investing the film with a modicum of genuine human interest.

Though it pains me to admit it, I have to confess to rather enjoying Transformers. By saving most of the blistering robot on robot duels for the third act, the off-the-back-of-a-matchbox plot actually gives room for the surprisingly likeable characters to come to the fore. The main character, Sam, is a high school kid about to undertake that teenage rite-of-passage in purchasing his first car. However, his car turns out to be a gigantic robot in disguise – an Autobot, one of a group of good Transformers who are trying to stop a mystical energy cube from falling into the hands of their enemies, the Decepticons. Anyway, good robots fight bad robots and humans get caught in the crossfire.

Amid the carnage, there are several good laughs to be had, particularly a superb gag about Indian call centres and a hilarious sequence where the Autobots hide outside Sam’s window. Shia LaBeouf is an enjoyably unlikely hero, and much of the humour (some of it unnecessarily rude) revolves around his adolescent issues. Megan Fox does well as the winning love interest Mikaela, and reminds one of the young Jennifer Connelly. Elsewhere John Turturro has a fun bit part as an amusingly inept member of a dubious government extra-terrestrial agency, and Jon Voight blusters pointlessly as the secretary of defence. Leader of the Autobots Optimus Prime is voiced with requisite moral gravitas by Peter Cullen, and as his arch nemesis Megatron, Hugo Weaving provides a suitably evil rendering of one-dimensional cackling villainhood.

Most people will go and see this for the special effects, and they won’t be disappointed. Particularly in the final act, the intense robotic clashes are superbly rendered. As the robots jump through tall buildings, duel on the ground, in mid-air, transforming back and forth into cars, trucks, planes and helicopters, metal is crushed, explosions fill the screen, and much of downtown LA is trashed in a deeply satisfactory matter. I confidently predict a win for Best Visual Effects at the next Oscars.

This review is written through gritted teeth, because Michael Bay is responsible for some of the worst films I have ever seen. My usual complaints apply (whiplash editing style, too many close-ups, epileptic camerawork, unintentionally funny slow-mo shots), but given the subject matter, they are less of a complaint than usual. At the risk of being damning with faint praise, this is Bay’s best film, although I suspect it was executive producer Steven Spielberg who insisted on vaguely interesting human characters. If you are inclined to see this nonsense, turn your brain off, and make sure you watch it on the biggest screen possible.

Simon Dillon, August 2007.

Back in 1988, before Bruce Willis was a household name, he landed the starring role in Die Hard, which went on to become a much loved and much imitated action classic. It redefined the genre with its wisecracking (if foul-mouthed) hero John McClane, as he played cat and mouse in a skyscraper with terrorist thieves, all in bare feet, for over two hugely suspenseful action-packed hours. Yet amid the mayhem and spectacular stunts, there was a sense of plausibility and suspension of disbelief that carried the film. McClane was clearly not Arnold Schwarzenegger, and one truly had the impression that he could go under any minute, which kept the audience on the edge of their seats.

Inevitable sequels followed in the shape of Die Hard 2: Die Harder, Die Hard with a Vengeance, and now twelve years on from the last instalment, Die Hard 4.0 (or its even sillier title Live Free or Die Hard in the US). And with each sequel the stunts have got more ludicrous, McClane has become more indomitable, and the suspense has gradually evaporated. Die Hard 4.0 is a cynical throwback to the 80’s action movie era combined with a typically creepy modern post 9/11 terrorist plot. Like oil and water, they don’t mix.

That’s not to say Die Hard 4.0 isn’t without its pleasures. The ludicrous plot is enjoyable nonsense about a disgruntled, psychotic ex-Pentagon employee who is fed up that no-one in the intelligence agencies listened to his apocalyptic warnings about terrorism, He decides to teach the country a lesson by hacking into and messing with, well, just about everything: weapons systems, satellites, power grids, phone networks, television and so on. Then, later on, like all good Die Hard villains, he just wants to rob the bank.

Needless to say, McClane manages to get dragged into this mess, along with computer nerd hacker Matt Farrell. Together they use the crisis as an excuse to blow up as many things as possible. These obligatory spectacular stunts, staged with flair by director Len Wiseman, include taking a helicopter out with a speeding car, a hilarious scene with a car in a lift shaft, and a monumentally daft moment involving a fighter plane, a freeway, and a truck.

Bruce Willis is as likeable as ever in the lead, and Justin Long’s Farrell is a good value sidekick. Unfortunately, the villains are fairly unremarkable. Timothy Olyphant’s mastermind Thomas Gabriel is a pale shadow of Alan Rickman’s memorably frightening original terrorist leader, and Maggie Q’s Mai Lihn is just plain silly. On the plus side, there is an amusing Kevin Smith cameo, plus some fun references to the original film, such as an FBI agent who is called agent Johnson.

Yet despite this, the feeling of déjà vu is unavoidable. The original Die Hard remains a classic, but since then action cinema has moved on. The ante has been upped by the Jason Bourne films, The Matrix, and others. Even James Bond largely dispensed with wisecracks in the excellent Casino Royale, and here the quality of McClane’s quips fails to match their hilarious counterparts in the original film. And it isn’t just cinema that has made the Die Hard franchise seem old-fashioned. Nerve shredding television thrillers like 24 with its hairpin twists and post 9/11 sophistication have created a new breed of action hero, making John McClane seem comparatively tame and predictable.

In short, this is enjoyably brainless fare, but don’t expect to remember anything about it afterwards.

Simon Dillon, July 2007.