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.

Miles (Paul Giamatti) and Jack (Thomas Haden Church) are middle-aged, washed up wine fanatics on a trip through California’s wine region, in the week leading up to Jack’s wedding. Miles, the divorced, introspective, failing-writer-turned-teacher, just wants to taste some good wine, play some golf and enjoy the week with his friend. Jack, the bit-part actor whose best years are behind him, is determined to have some fun (read: sex) before tying the knot - and embarks on some very ill-advised romantic entanglements that his friend has to then extricate him from. The film follows them through their week, as they spend time together and apart, and evokes charm, disbelief, humour and irritation at these characters in more or less equal measure.

Giamatti and Church do an excellent job, though it really is Giamatti’s film - thankfully, as he is the more sympathetic character to follow! In fact, it’s very difficult for me to comment on anything apart from the actual characters and their story - I don’t remember the technical / directorial aspects of the film so much, as I was caught up with being annoyed with both of them! I suppose that means the director (Alexander Payne, who also wrote the screenplay) did a good job of keeping me in the story.

And here I will digress and present the reader with a spiritual quandary that I found myself in at the end of the movie; I experienced the same thing while watching Last King of Scotland, just a few nights earlier, so maybe God’s on my case… Anyway - and here I will allude heavily to the endings of both films, so look away if you don’t want them spoiled - they both presented the viewer with characters who mess up in a major way, show little to no remorse for their dumb and dangerous actions, and yet the story offers them redemption, and they take it. In LKoS, Nick Garrigan (James McAvoy), who has most definitely sinned against Idi Amin (I’ll leave the details of that out for now), is rescued from his horrific torture by a fellow doctor who dies to give him time to leave the country; in Sideways Jack’s pre-marital infidelities are flagrant and ridiculous, and get him beaten up and forced into the first act of deception in his new marriage before it’s even started. Neither of these characters show any true remorse for what they have done, but are given a way out of their mess through the sacrifices offered to them by others. Now it’s totally clear when put that way, that they could stand in for the sinner before accepting Christ - he gave himself before we had any idea of our need for salvation. And yet, something in me is annoyed and unhappy about the fact that they are redeemed (not just offered redemption) when no repentance has taken place - and sadly there is nothing in the films that tells us that from this point on they are going to be changed characters. Is this harsh on my part? Am I being legalistic and pharisaical in my lack of grace for these characters? Or is fair and true to Christian belief to expect a change in behaviour / attitude before someone is fully saved?

Comments welcome (I think!)…

So without any further ado, here are ten other films those who enjoy Coraline may wish to consider. All films listed either have a U or PG certificate in the UK (Gremlins – a film aimed squarely at children but slapped with a 15 certificate by spoilsport censors – is therefore ineligible):

King Kong (1933 original, PG) – Arguably the greatest monster movie of all time, and probably my four year old son’s favourite film, the original Kong packs in dinosaur after dinosaur, some of whom eat the humans (even the vegetarian ones – paleontological accuracy be damned), and some of whom fight Kong. As for Kong himself, he’s not above merrily munching on people, casually throwing them off skyscrapers, and stamping them into oblivion in graphic close ups. Yet despite all this gratuitous (but hugely entertaining) violence, (SPOILER WARNING) my son cries when Kong meets his end during the iconic Empire State Building scene where he is gunned down by aeroplanes, the mechanised monsters he could not defeat. In spite of all his savagery, my son is on Kong’s side because, in his own words, “They should have left him on his island!”

The Wizard of Oz (U) – Although children are (debatably) more desensitised these days, the Wicked Witch of the West and her evil flying monkeys still have the power to scare the daylights out of children. There is something about the terrifying simplicity of green make-up and a totally one dimensional character that makes her remain one of the greatest cinematic villains of all time. Because Dorothy simply wants to go home, her plight is all the more poignant and her accidental defeat of the witch is nevertheless a vitally empowering moment.

Bambi (U) – Generations of children have been traumatised by the death of Bambi’s mother at the hands of a human hunter. It has probably caused more grief than every other film on this list combined. At the same time, I would imagine it has provided catharsis and comfort for children who have lost parents at a young age. It was exceptionally brave of Disney to include such a scene, and for this among many other reasons, it remains one of the greatest animated films of all time.

The 7th Voyage of Sinbad (U) – For the most part, this is a fun romp with Harryhausen’s brilliant special effects bringing to life a myriad of exciting monsters. However, the Cyclops sequence is really quite vicious, especially when said Cyclops plucks one of Sinbad’s men, ties him to a stick and starts merrily roasting him over a slow flame.

Chitty Chitty Bang Bang (U) – The terrifying child catcher in this film has scared generations of kiddies, but these days it’s the parents who really find this aspect of the film unsettling. With the frenzy whipped up in the media about paedophiles and child abductions, it’s hardly surprising. The film itself is too long (especially in the first half) but it remains an entertaining watch.

The Empire Strikes Back (U) – The greatest of the Star Wars film is also the darkest of the Star Wars films. Darth Vader is at his most menacing and villainous here, especially in his torment of Han Solo and the casual killing of officers who fail him. Scenes such as Luke’s frightening vision of his own head beneath Darth Vader’s mask and his struggle with the dark side in general add the to uneasiness, all of which comes to a disturbing finale in the greatest plot twist of all time (I’m not going to spoil it here, in case you are one of the two people who haven’t seen it).

Time Bandits (PG) – Without question, the darkest, cruellest children’s film of all time. The ending – SPOILER WARNING – where Kevin’s parents ignore his warning not to touch the evil fragment and pay the ultimate price, is astonishingly harsh. Yet when you think about it, it is absolutely the right ending. Parents need to listen to their children. Again, this makes perfect sense to children, but is very uncomfortable viewing for adults.

E.T. The Extra Terrestrial (U) – From Christ allegories to the traumatic way divorce affects children, ET provides a treasure trove of narrative analysis. However, for the purposes of this article I shall refer to one scene only: the death of ET. When he expires and the scientists try to resuscitate him, Elliot yells “You’re killing him!” The psychology of this scene is brilliant. Even though the scientists are trying to save him, to the children the adults are intruding in their world and are actually making things worse. What follows is one of the most upsetting sequences in a children’s film in the history of cinema, second only to the death of Bambi’s mother.

Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom (PG) – Temple of Doom is the darkest and meanest (not to mention the least good) of the Indiana Jones films even in it’s severely cut UK version. Yet ironically, in its own way it is also the most kiddie-friendly in the series, since Indy’s sidekick Short Round is a child who then goes on to free a bunch of kids trapped by the Thuggee villains. Indy has none of the darker obsessive qualities that made him such a fascinating and flawed character in Raiders of the Lost Ark. Instead, in Temple of Doom he is a straightforward hero who helps the children defeat the forces of evil. This is perhaps why the film did not bother me in the slightest as a child, but as an adult I find it horrifying (eyeball soup, human sacrifice, and so on). When an even more severely cut version appeared on Christmas Day one year, the BBC attracted several complaints, and a cartoon appeared in the Radio Times showing children watching the film whilst parents cowered behind the sofa. The caption read: “It’s terrifying for the children!”

A Series of Unfortunate Events (PG) – The most underrated children’s film of the last ten years, this is a darkly comic masterpiece designed as a fable to help children overcome the death of a loved one. The very first scene, where the children are told their parents have been killed, is brilliantly handled so the gravity of what has happened is not ignored, but at no point does it descend into mawkishness or sentimentality. Throughout all the unfortunate events (and they are many and cruel) the indomitable optimism and resourcefulness of the children shines through.

Drat! I’ve left out The Goonies…

Simon Dillon, May 2009.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.