The Greatest Trick

Satirical website The Onion is currently running a highly amusing article entitled “Star Trek Fans Outraged New Film Is Exciting, Enjoyable”. It includes interviews with Trekkies complaining that there is no stiff acting, no heavy handed messages about tolerance and that the storyline made sense. For those like me who are of the opinion that latterly Star Trek degenerated into self-important politically correct pomposity, this is a blast of fresh air and a very tasty slice of summer blockbuster entertainment.

With Lost creator JJ Abrams at the helm, this isn’t merely another excuse to indulge in the current trend for origin stories (Casino Royale, Batman Begins and so on), but through a nifty piece of storytelling, totally rewrite the Star Trek universe. The film opens with James Kirk being born on a shuttle escaping from a gigantic Romulan starship that has come back through time to change the future. Kirk’s father then heroically saves those escaping, and gets himself killed in the process.

Thus, the entire history of Star Trek is thrown into a parallel universe. In the original, Kirk’s father lived to a ripe old age and saw his son become a starship captain. In this, having established the parallel timeline, Abrams goes on to make other major changes to Star Trek’s established chronology in a plot that is both delightfully satisfying and a bold act of defiance against stuffy fans.

To say too much more about the plot would spoil the fun, but the entire cast are a joy to watch. They all wisely avoid impersonations of the earlier cast, and instead make the characters their own. Chris Pine’s Kirk is a misguided rebellious youth who thinks nothing of taking on four men in a bar room brawl (“Get another two and it’ll be a fair fight” he taunts). Zachary Quinto (Sylar from Heroes) is an excellent young Spock not yet able to fully control his emotions. The film centres on their relationship, and how they go from hating each other to mutual respect with, ultimately, a great friendship ahead of them. In many ways, it’s a buddy pairing equal to Butch and Sundance.

The rest of the cast are all good in their supporting roles. Karl Urban’s grouchy Dr McCoy is slightly sidelined, but nevertheless enjoyable, especially in scenes where he clashes with Spock. This is of course was a vital ingredient in the original series, where Kirk has to navigate the middle ground between emotions (Dr McCoy) and logic (Spock). Elsewhere Zoe Saldana, John Cho and Anton Yelchin are all good as Uhura, Sulu and Chekhov respectively. Simon Pegg’s Scotty turns up late in the day, but provides some big laughs. Winona Ryder and Ben Cross play Spock’s mother and father respectively, and Eric Bana’s Romulan Nero provides a memorable, well motivated villain. Finally, Bruce Greenwood turns up as the original Enterprise Captain Pike (played by the excellent Jeffrey Hunter in the original TV series). Pike becomes a mentor to Kirk and although the timeline has changed, there is a good visual reference at the end to his ultimate fate that neatly ties back in with the original TV series.

Speaking of which, Alex Kurtzman and Roberto Orci’s screenplay does not entirely ignore fans either. There are some very good in-jokes (Sulu’s fencing skills for instance), and after years of dull prime directive obsessed characters who think it best to strike their enemies with a leaflet campaign, its great to see the politically incorrect, skirt-chasing, shoot-first-ask-questions-later Captain Kirk back in charge of the Enterprise. Speaking of political correctness, the film’s one concession to this is where the words “where no man has gone before” is changed to “where no one has gone before”.

On a technical level, Abram’s direction is surprisingly stylish, Michael Giacchino’s music score is appropriately epic and the special effects and sound effects are predictably fabulous. This really needs to be seen on the biggest screen possible and in the best sound systems (especially for the wonderful sonic booms of the Enterprise going to warp speed).

To be fair, there are some nits to be picked. A subplot involving a Ceti Eel (a nasty mind controlling parasite that first appeared in The Wrath of Khan) isn’t properly resolved, a critical meeting between Kirk and a character I won’t name for fear of spoiling the plot is too much of a co-incidence, and there is a romantic subplot between Uhura and Spock which I wasn’t sure was entirely in keeping with his character. That said, these are nits, and in no way spoil the experience.

I note with interest on the BBFC website that one of the reasons Star Trek has been given a 12 certificate is that “both positively and negatively presented characters often resolve conflict situations through violence”. Of all the sanctimonious, moralistic reasons to give a film a 12 rating, this has got to be one of the worst, and proves my point about how 12 has effectively become the new PG, as this film would easily have got a PG twenty years ago. Although it’s clearly not appropriate (or understandable) for small children, ten year olds will love it as much as adults.

In fact, even if you hate Star Trek, its worth giving this one a go. I personally still prefer The Wrath of Khan, but I would imagine almost everyone will disagree. At any rate, I haven’t come out of a Star Trek film thinking it was brilliant since The Voyage Home (the one about saving the whales) in 1987. In a time when filmmakers seem increasingly obsessed with making “dark” blockbuster films, this is colourful, exciting and ultimately about one thing: great fun.

Simon Dillon, May 2009.

As I left the cinema having watched Coraline, I overheard two children excitedly discussing the film, saying how much they loved it, whilst their parents were having an equally avid discussion about how terrifying it was. If ever there was a film that was unsuitable for parents but suitable for children, this is it. In the same way the Grimm fairytales (Red Riding Hood, Hansel and Gretel et al) make perfect sense to children but horrify adults, Coraline follows a great cinematic tradition of dark children’s films that ruthlessly terrorise their young target audience.

Based on Neil Gaiman’s excellent (and equally terrifying) novel, the plot concerns young Coraline, an imaginative, resourceful girl who moves with her parents to a grim, dingy house where she is lonely and bored. After exploring the house she finds a doorway that leads to a parallel, idealised version of her world with an exact replica of the house and everyone she knows, including her “other mother”. However, there is one critical difference: they all have buttons for eyes. Coraline is slowly seduced by this alternative world where everything seems wonderful, until a talking cat warns her that everything is not as it seems.

The very best children’s stories do not patronise, and there is nothing patronising or unduly sentimental about Coraline. Although there are echoes of Alice in Wonderland and one or two other previous books, it is a starkly original work that can be read on a number of levels. Firstly and most obviously, it is a fable intended to encourage children to appreciate their parents, even if they often ignore them. On a second, more subversive level, it can be seen as a gentle satire of the idealised, 1950’s style gender roles fulfilled by Coraline’s parents in the parallel world. In the real world, Coraline’s parents both work and her father does the cooking, which is always disgusting. In the parallel world, Coraline’s father works hard whilst her mother stays at home cooking delicious food. It is interesting that this fantasy world is used to seduce Coraline, who clearly longs for a mother who is there for her. Yet this world is ultimately shown to be dangerous and evil. It is almost as though the filmmakers are sending a message to children that to want a mother at home in a post feminist society where most of the time both parents work out of financial necessity is as unrealistic and fantastic as the bizarre parallel world Coraline discovers.

Regardless of how one feels about such a message, it cannot be denied that Coraline is a work of visionary genius. The vocal talents, including Dakota Fanning, Teri Hatcher, Jennifer Saunders, Dawn French and Ian McShane, all contribute excellent performances. Director Henry Selick (who made The Nightmare Before Christmas) uses stop motion techniques to brilliant effect, and generates an extraordinary level of detail that can only be appreciated in the cinema (where it can also be seen in 3D). The screenplay expands upon Gaiman’s original in a number of interesting ways that are too good to spoil in this review, and there is a dazzling array of frightening, hilarious and often surreal moments (especially a running gag involving dogs). But it isn’t just outstanding in the big set pieces. It’s equally good in the smaller, quieter moments. For instance in one poignant scene late in the film where Coraline has escaped back to the real world to find her parents have been kidnapped by the “other mother”, a frightened, upset Coraline makes bizarre mannequins of her parents and goes to sleep between them – a simple and heartbreaking image that at the same time makes no concessions to sentimentality.

I do have one small caveat on the spiritual side of things. There is a scene where Coraline has tea leaves read, but the scene is brief and it is apparent that the character reading the leaves is perhaps a fraud. It is almost akin to the fortune reading scene in The Wizard of Oz (where the man is a fraud), although the image of the spidery hand that the tea leaves form along with the predictable pronouncement that she is in great danger does neatly foreshadow something in the finale.

To summarise, this is essentially a superb horror film for kids, and as such comes with my highest recommendation for all but very young children. Brave parents who can overcome their nervousness may wish to go too, although they might need to hide their eyes at times.

Simon Dillon, May 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.

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.

First, let me say the critics are wrong about this film. Knowing has been slated just about everywhere, with some calling it the worst film ever made when it’s actually a perfectly decent Twilight Zone-type slice of apocalyptic hokum.

The plot concerns a time capsule sealed in 1959 when some children buried their drawings of what they thought the future would look like. Fifty years later, the capsule is dug up and for various reasons one of the drawings ends up in the hands of recently widowed University lecturer John Koestler (Nicolas Cage) and his young son Caleb. Except it’s not a drawing but a series of numbers which predict – Bible Code style – every major catastrophe from the fifty years with perfect accuracy, and there are another three still to come.

John becomes increasingly obsessed with this numeric code, and tracks down the daughter of the girl who wrote the code in the first place, Diana Wayland (played by Rose Byrne, best known for her role in excellent TV series Damages). He tries to get some answers from her, but she is reluctant to give them. In the meantime, there is a subplot involving Caleb and Diana’s daughter Abby, who are being approached by mysterious and seemingly menacing strangers.

That’s about as much as I can say about the plot without spoiling it. However I must reiterate: do not believe the critics. Although Nicolas Cage’s performance is a little wooden at times and some of the special effects don’t fully convince, this is a surprisingly gripping picture that presses all the right Doomsday buttons and has the guts to follow the grim premise through to its logical conclusion. Yes, it’s hugely derivative of 1950s sci-fi movies like Where Worlds Collide, as well as other more recent silly films about numbers like The Number 23, but anyone who calls it the worst film ever made has obviously only ever seen brilliant films. Alex Proyas, who directed I, Robot and more interestingly Dark City (which had a similar premise to The Matrix, but preceded it) calls the shots, and does a decent job of generating suspense and scares.

However, the main reason I believe Knowing is a significant film is because I believe it is prophetic. By that, I don’t mean that it’s theologically accurate. There have been many misguided articles in the Christian press attacking the film on a number of theological levels, but this is a story, not a sermon. It’s a parable.

What do I mean by prophetic? That’s not the same as when a film reflects the times we live in, which of course countless films do. By prophetic, I mean they depict not so much events but images of things that are yet to come. Fight Club is a good recent example, with its hauntingly prophetic images of a falling skyscraper that anticipating 9/11. How is this possible? Well, it says in the Bible that God has appointed pastors, evangelists, prophets, teachers and apostles. But these offices exist outside the church as well as inside. Bill Gates for example is an apostle in the business world. Steven Spielberg is a prophet to the media, and so on. And we are made in the image of God, which means through art, business or whatever field we are in, we will reflect his glory and truth to some degree whether we want to or not, albeit sometimes in a peculiarly distorted way.

SPOILER WARNING: From this point, I am going to discuss in detail the ending of the film, so do not read on unless you want it spoilt for you.

The film concludes with the destruction of the entire world, caused by a massive solar flare. At the same time, the mysterious strangers that have been appearing to the children are actually angels or aliens (it’s never made clear which, although there are suggestions that they are the angels Ezekiel describes in Ezekiel chapter 1). They offer the children a chance to escape and start again on a new world. The adults however are left behind to die.

This sounds harsh, and the no-adults policy of the aliens/angels is one of the reasons the film has been criticised by Christians attacking its theological veracity. However, as I am at pains to point out, this is a parable, not a sermon. The fact that it is only children who are allowed to escape is deliberately provocative for a number of reasons. First, Jesus spoke of how we need to enter the Kingdom of God like a little child. Second, because throughout scripture the people of Israel or the Church are never once referred to as God’s adults. We are all God’s children. The rapture-esque idea of angels taking children away to what is effectively a new Heavens and a new Earth has obvious scriptural overtones, regardless of one’s eschatology, but the children still have to choose to go, just as well all have to choose to accept Christ or not.

It is also interesting to see the anguish of those “left behind”. In contrast to the children, who do not seem to view the impending destruction with any fear (despite obviously being horrified at what the aliens/angels show them is coming), the adults go completely crazy in the final moments, particularly Diana whose fear-dictated actions lead to her demise. This reminded me of the scriptures that indicate how Christians in the last days will be at peace, anticipating their redemption, whereas those in the world will have their hearts fail them for fear.

However, in spite of this, the film carefully closes with a moment of family reunion and forgiveness. John has not spoken to his pastor father in years for reasons that are never made entirely clear, but he does so seconds before annihilation. This, and the way the angels/aliens inform Abby that her now dead mother is “safe” is perhaps a way of alluding to the salvation of those that come to faith after the rapture but are martyred, as described in Revelation chapter 7. Furthermore, the imagery of fiery destruction caused by the sun does remind one of Revelation chapter 16, during the final phase of God’s wrath when the sun is given power to scorch the Earth dwellers.

Of course, there is a counter argument that can be made; that Knowing ignores completely the concept of a loving God. The angels/aliens make no attempt to save the world, and scenes depicting fiery death (particularly in a plane crash), nightmarish visions given to the children by the aliens/angels and general scariness could give some Christians pause. However, to my mind this counter argument is mistaken. I don’t think Knowing completely ignores the idea that God loves us, but it does major on the fact that eventually he will have to judge the world because he is just.

Again there is nothing theologically accurate about Knowing, but because the film contains these apocalyptic concepts, it becomes an ideal film for the non-churched as a springboard for discussion. That’s assuming of course that Christians are prepared to do so, for those pesky, apocalyptic bits of the Bible are often brushed under the carpet by Christians who are perhaps embarrassed by them. But as someone who believes the Bible – including the book of Revelation – says what it means and means what it says, I have personally found the non-churched are often most interested in these sections, and watching a film like Knowing is a great way to open up discussions about them, ultimately pointing the way to salvation through Jesus Christ. If Knowing can be used in such a way, then it is the ideal prophetic film.

Simon Dillon, March 2009.

A colleague of mine recently told me he was considering going to see Watchmen, but having read the comic, said he would first overdose on “happy” films like Singin’ in the Rain in order to counterbalance the negativity and darkness.

Watchmen is certainly a dark film, in every sense of the word. Those expecting Batman or Superman type heroics are in for a massive disappointment. Like the comic, this is a bleak, blood-soaked tale packed with sex and violence, where the “heroes” are not so much flawed but often downright reprehensible, capable of corruption, rape, murder and even playing God. By contrast, even the most repugnant of the “villains” are vested with redeeming qualities.

Set in a parallel 1985 where Vietnam was won and Nixon was elected five times, the story kicks off when the Comedian, a retired superhero, is murdered. His former colleague Rorschach (think Travis Bickle with a morphing ink-blot mask) is paranoid someone is picking off the group of superheroes he belonged to, the eponymous Watchmen.

Of the various former Watchmen, only one actually has superpowers. The enigmatic Dr Manhatten, a blue naked giant (no, really), was created Captain America style in a laboratory experiment gone wrong. Although he has served America over the years, even he does not think he can stop the impending nuclear war that everyone seems to think is inevitable. This impending threat is the backdrop to Rorschach’s investigations and as the story progresses, each of the other Watchmen – Nite Owl, Silk Spectre, Ozymandias (named after the Shelley poem) – have their elaborate stories explored in flashback.

Based on the celebrated graphic novel by Dave Gibbons and Alan Moore, this is an ambitious, complex and eagerly awaited work. The adaptation had been mooted several times over the years, and was even considered by such cinematic luminaries as Terry Gilliam and Paul Greengrass, but had always ended up in back in development hell. Eventually it was picked up by 300 director Zack Synder, but by this point Alan Moore wanted nothing more to do with Hollywood, and had his name removed from the film. He had always considered (as I had) that Watchmen was inherently unfilmable.

There are really three ways to approach adaptation. The first and obviously worst approach is to try to make it as commercially viable as possible, if necessary ignoring anything dark and difficult in the original text. Cinema history is littered with countless examples of such films, but comic fans will need only one film cited: Judge Dredd.

The second is to be slavishly faithful to the text, which is the approach Synder has taken despite inevitably losing chunks of the story, including the comic-within-a-comic Tales of the Black Freighter and the squid (fans will know what I’m talking about). However, this reverential (and in this case fanboyish) approach can lead to surprisingly timid and bloodless films – the first two Harry Potter pictures spring immediately to mind. Watchmen isn’t exactly bloodless or timid, but it is emotionally flat and probably incomprehensible to non-fans. Admittedly, the comic was radical in its epic approach, but the film just feels long and tedious. To be fair, there are some decent performances from the mostly unknown cast, including Billy Crudup, Malin Akerman, Matthew Goode, Jackie Earle Haley. Furthermore, Synder’s direction is often clever, framing shots so they appear like cells of the comic. However, it all feels like much ado about nothing. Even the soundtrack is badly judged. When I heard Simon and Garfunkel’s The Sound of Silence, I started to wish I was watching The Graduate. When I heard Wagner’s Ride of the Valkyries, I started to wish I Was watching Apocalypse Now.

There is a third, and to my mind preferable, approach to adaptation: keep what is cinematic and reinvent the rest whilst remaining faithful to the spirit of the original. This is an extremely difficult trick to pull off, but it can be done. It involves subtracting what doesn’t work and adding something better. For instance Dangerous Liasons featured many changes from the text, but was so brilliant critics and audiences didn’t mind. The same is true of Hitchcock’s version of The 39 Steps, David Lean’s slimmed down Great Expectations, Michael Mann’s The Last of the Mohicans and even Peter Jackson’s take on The Lord of the Rings. Re-read the books and you’ll be surprised how much was changed or removed, but you’ll also admit that what was added made the films better. This is what ought to have happened with Watchmen. Divorced of the comic’s undeniably bold and innovative formatting, without reinvention what is left simply doesn’t hold together as a film.

On a moral note, the tone is relentlessly bleak and nihilistic in a way that appealed to me as a teenager, but not anymore. However, my main issue is with the film (and comics) attempts to grapple with difficult moral dilemmas in a frankly infantile way. For instance, the hoary old “do you kill millions to save billions” quandary rears its ugly head, but it is tackled in a banal and juvenile manner without bringing anything new to the argument. Spiritually this has a pointlessly pessimistic worldview where God is entirely absent. Add to that the presence of extremely graphic and bloody violence, sex, nudity and bad language this is something most Christian audiences will want to avoid. For all Watchmen’s supposed kudos as an “adult” comic, there is far more truth, honesty and intelligent grappling with difficult moral issues in Batman Begins and The Dark Knight (to give two recent examples).

Like my colleague, I can only suggest avoiding such negativity and watching Singin’ in the Rain instead.

Simon Dillon, March 2009.

Terry Gilliam once said of Time Bandits that he wanted a film that was intelligent enough for children and exciting enough for adults. I took my four year old son to see Inkheart, and whilst I found it a little talky and light on action, he was riveted. Now I understand what Gilliam meant. Inkheart is not good as Time Bandits, but it’s a good solid children’s fantasy film; exciting, unpatronising and properly scary. I wouldn’t recommend it for most four year olds (my son has Dillon DNA, so his ability to enjoy the frightening scenes is probably not typical for children his age), but older children and adults will find much to entertain them.

Based on a novel by Cornelia Funke which I’ve not read, Inkheart tells of Mo Folchart and his twelve year old daughter Meggie. Mo lost his wife in mysterious circumstances when Meggie was a baby, and has not told Meggie what happened. They spend their time travelling the world searching old bookshops for a rare book called Inkheart. The eponymous novel holds the key to finding Mo’s wife, and when they happen upon a copy in the first few minutes of the film, it is revealed that Mo is a Silvertongue – someone who can bring characters and events from stories into our world when they read aloud.

In the film at least, the Silvertongue concept is good, but not as well thought out as it could have been. The plot is also a little predictable and as mentioned previously, I would have liked more outrageous action sequences. That said, what action there is works well, including an exciting twister sequence that has been read out of The Wizard of Oz. Iain Softley is quite an underrated director, and he lends the film a modicum of style.

Cast wise, Brendan Fraser is appealing as Mo, though not quite as entertaining as he is in films like The Mummy. Eliza Bennett is better as Meggie, and there are a smattering of enjoyable eccentric supporting roles from the likes of Helen Mirren, Paul Bettany, Jim Broadbent and Andy Serkis.

It all builds to an enjoyable messy finale involving a huge Balrog type monster, where most of the plot threads are clumsily resolved. For all its faults, Inkheart is an entertaining and somewhat underrated film, destined no doubt to find a bigger audience on television.

Simon Dillon, December 2008.

Guillermo del Toro has become one of the most visually innovative directors in the world. His wonderful fantasy movies recall the best of Terry Gilliam, Jean Pierre Jeunet, Tim Burton and even Jean Cocteau, whilst remaining unique in their own right. Yet to describe him as a maverick would be inaccurate as his directing pattern is to make one for himself and one for Hollywood in very much the same way Orson Welles and other Hollywood greats used to. His Hollywood products (Blade II and the original Hellboy) are good pulpy fun, whereas his personal projects are revered by the arthouse crowd (Cronos, The Devil’s Backbone). His masterpiece, Pan’s Labyrinth, brought him to the attention of one Peter Jackson who has turned the upcoming Hobbit films over to him, to the delight of salivating fanboys across the internet.

Meanwhile, Hellboy II is very much a Hollywood product. Despite being a visual treat, there is little of the thought provoking ideas and profound emotions of Pan’s Labyrinth. But that’s not to say it isn’t fun. On the contrary, Hellboy II is enormous fun – big, loud, funny, and teeming with astounding monsters. The delightfully daft screenplay corrects one mistake of its predecessor in that it doesn’t spend too much time with the villains at the expense of the heroes. This time, Hellboy, his bizarre friend Abe Sapien (a kind of human fish creature with psychic powers) and girlfriend Liz (a firestarter) are firmly centre stage. They are joined by hilarious by-the-book Teutonic newcomer Johann Krauss (a kind of ectoplasmic entity in what appears to be an old fashioned diving suit).

The plot is some utter twaddle about a rogue Elf prince called Nuada (who looks like a cross between Marilyn Manson and a Wraith from Stargate Atlantis) trying to regain a crown that will enable him to command the eponymous invincible Golden Army, and thus resume a war against mankind. Our friends at the secret FBI division of paranormal whatever-it-is, reluctantly rise to the challenge whilst dealing with a bunch of predicable subplots (Hellboy and Liz’s fiery romance leaves Abe feeling sidelined, until he starts to fancy Elf princess Nuala, Nuada’s twin sister – blah, blah, blah).

But all this is merely the hook on which del Toro hangs his phenomenal visuals, throwing in monster after monster in a series of increasingly astounding set pieces. One involving a troll market simply overflows with stunning creativity in the sheer magnitude and variety of mythical beasties. Other set pieces, including a stylish animated prologue and the thrilling final battle, are so incredible one desperately wishes the screenplay made the viewer care more about the plot and characters. Watching is the cinematic equivalent of eating a cake comprised entirely of icing.

Performances are all decent. Selma Blair, Doug Jones, Jeffrey Tambor and the excellent Ron Perlman all reprise their roles to good effect. John Hurt has a fun cameo and newcomers Anna Walton, Seth MacFarlane and Luke Goss all acquit themselves well. And yes, you read that correctly. That’s Luke Goss, who used to be in late 80’s teenybopper pop combo Bros. Actually, this is the second time del Toro has used him as a villain after he played a super-vampire in Blade II. On the technical side, everything is a triumph from the astonishing production design to the truly dazzling visual effects.

One thing I like about the Hellboy films and comics are the way conventional fantasy ideas are frequently turned on their heads. Most obviously, Hellboy himself is the son of a demon who has chosen to fight for good. Some Christians get their theological knickers in a twist over this, which is downright foolish as no attempt is made to attack Christianity, nor is this in any way meant to be theologically accurate. The idea of having a demon hero is meant allegorically to symbolize someone born from a bad background who decides not to use said background as an excuse for bad decisions.

The Elves, traditionally heroes, become villains here, even though Nuada’s reasons for his crusade against humanity seem fairly reasonable to me (we’re insatiably greedy, we’re destroying all those nice pretty forests, etc, etc). Some of the most fearsome monsters – one gigantic forest god thingy for instance – turn out to be rather pretty. An enigmatic and strangely beautiful Angel of Death provides another memorable example. On the other hand, I never realized tooth fairies were so vicious and deadly.

In short, if you love monsters of all shapes and sizes, this is a hands down must-see. Otherwise, it’s a summer blockbuster raised above average by del Toro’s incredible imagination. And did I mention the monsters?

Simon Dillon, August 2008.

First, in case there is any confusion, Clone Wars is not an official Star Wars film. It is a spin-off set between episodes II and III originally designed as a pilot episode for an animated TV series. However, Star Wars creator George Lucas decided to give it a cinema release instead, which has led to all manner of unrealistic expectations from those expecting Episode 2.5, so to speak.

In spite of the return of the principal characters of the prequels, there is hardly any reference to the larger saga here. What little plot there is revolves around an attempt by Count Dooku and his separatists to frame the Jedi for the kidnap of Jabba the Hutt’s son in order to secure control of the supply routes need in the outer part of the galaxy during the Clone Wars. The Jedi and Republic Clonetroopers also want control of these strategic areas, and this hook is merely an excuse to launch into endless non-stop battles and lightsabre fights. Some of these justify Lucas’ claims that this ought to be seen at the cinema, most notably a vertical assault on a fortress, handled with a modicum of cinematic verve by director Dave Filoni. Better still, Anakin Skywalker seems to have dropped the stroppy petulance that frequently made his character a bore in the prequels and behaves much more like a hero here, especially in the amusing banter between him and his padawan, Ahsoka Tano (whose absence from the films sadly means she will probably eventually go the way of the doe-doe in the upcoming Cartoon Network series).

That said, the slight premise does not escape its TV movie origins. The animation is deliberately cartoonish, which might be considered untrendy in the light of Pixar’s insanely detailed visions, but once the viewer gets used to the puppet like characters, it works in a Thunderbirds kind of way. Most of the original actors were unable to return for vocal duties and Frank Oz’s Yoda is particularly missed, but James Arnold Taylor in particular does a good job of impersonating Ewan McGregor (who was himself impersonating Alec Guinness in the first place). Bizarrely, Christopher Lee does return to voice Count Dooku, which is a great if ultimately throwaway selling point.

One thing that is frustrating is the lack of a John Williams score. Kevin Kiner’s music is serviceable, but hardly cinematic, especially when he occasionally produces his own tinny versions of the classic Williams themes. On the other hand, I for one applaud the deliberate decision not to have an opening title crawl, as it sets it apart from the official films. The Pathe news style introduction of what’s going on in the galaxy may be childish, but it’s a good replacement.

In short, children will probably love it, but if you’re over 12, there is little here of interest. However, if you are a Star Wars fan, provided you adjust your expectations, you’ll find it great fun (if inconsequential).

Simon Dillon, August 2008.

Or, to give use its full title, The X: Files: I want to believe I can get the last two hours of my life back. To be fair, it’s not excruciatingly terrible, but it feels like a very average episode of the eponymous TV series, only drawn out to two hours instead of a tight forty-five minutes. It’s a curiously muted affair; slow, flatly directed and incoherent.

I’m not exactly sure why writer/director Chris Carter wanted to resurrect his hit TV series, since that itself went on at least three series too many. By the time it reached its baffling finale, FBI agents Fox Mulder (David Duchovny) and Dana Scully (Gillian Anderson) had got so swamped in UFO’s, aliens, government conspiracies and other things far too bizarre and confusing to detail here, that even its most devoted fans were hard pressed to explain what was actually happening. Of course, this isn’t the first time The X-Files has hit the big screen. A previous movie was released in 1998, and whilst it was only understandable to those steeped in X-Files lore, I actually quite enjoyed it, if only for a very memorable sequence involving bees.

The good news is that I want to believe is a one-off story, designed to hark back to the earlier series where stand-alone plots were the norm. The bad news is that even as a stand-alone, it’s very confusing. As far as I could decipher, Mulder and Scully are asked to come out of retirement to provide their expertise on a confusing FBI serial killer case, where one of their own has been taken captive. The FBI have been relying on psychic former paedophile Catholic priest Father Joseph Crissman (a completely bonkers Billy Connolly) to uncover their clues, but are not sure if he is a fraud. This leads to an increasingly weird, but not nearly as disturbing as it should be horror tale that throws up questions of faith (more of that in a moment) as well as two-headed dogs. Oh, and there’s a subplot involving Scully trying to save a handicapped boy’s life through experimental stem-cell research that has something to do with the main plot. I can’t remember what exactly, and I don’t care. But then I don’t care about Mulder and Scully either, who are now entirely devoid of the sexual tension they had in the earlier TV series (which evaporated the moment they slept with one another). Occasionally, characters from the series reappear pointlessly (such as Mitch Pileggi’s Walter Skinner), whilst new characters such as the ludicrously glamorous FBI agent Dakota Whitney (Amanda Peet), look embarrassingly out of place.

The only thing this film has in its favour is a potentially interesting spiritual undercurrent exploring whether or not God speaks to us, sometimes through the last person we would expect. Typically in the TV series, Mulder was sceptical about God, whereas Scully had at least a modicum of faith as a result of her Catholic background. Here however, the roles seem to be reversed with Mulder wanting to believe Crissman is getting messages, if not necessarily from God, then from some benevolent higher power. Scully on the other hand seems to be having a crisis of faith not dissimilar to Mel Gibson’s character in Signs. The way this crisis resolves itself is also similar to that film, in that she experiences God speaking to her in a way that anyone else could dismiss as co-incidence, but that she knows is not. Of course, many Christians (including myself) have had similar encounters, so will find themselves nodding in agreement. But only if they can sit through many interminably humourless sequences, not to mention violence, gore and – far more offensively – long stretches of sheer boredom. If you really want a thought provoking sci-fi film about the subtle ways God sometimes speaks to us, watch the infinitely superior Signs.

Therefore, in final analysis, despite the presence of a spiritually interesting subtext, there’s not much to write home about here. It’s admittedly gruesome Frankenstein-esque themes fails to generate the necessary sense of moral outrage, and as a thriller it fails to gather pace or excite the way the TV series occasionally could. In short, The X-Files: I want to believe is for completists only, and frankly I suspect that even they will feel short changed. I still want to believe I can get my two hours back.

Simon Dillon, August 2008.