Pitch Perfect vs. Let Me In

Loneliness is a common staple for many in their childhood and adolescence, and as these films show there are different ways of dealing with it. You could be like Beca (Anna Kendrick), a college student vying to be indie and cool, who (strangely) finds solace in some occasionally cringeworthy a Capella group performances. Or you could be like Owen (Kodi Smit-McPhee), a 12 year old who has no friends and is bullied at school, and befriend your local vampire. The choice is yours! But, as ever, the important question is: which one's better?

Lets start with Pitch Perfect. I had low expectations of this film, the premise has been done so many times that cinema goers already know exactly how the plot will unfold before they take their seats. The fairly dreadful vocal group will be boosted by the arrival of one person who is vaguely talented and who will allow the other members  to discover their own strengths. The vocal group will eventually win a competition, and the talented individual will 'find themselves' in the music, and will be able to open their heart to an attractive but frustrated love interest. Pitch Perfect doesn't venture away from this rigid plot structure. Thankfully though it's all tongue-in-cheek, the put-upon boy in charge of the auditions gives an amusing monologue about how singing will not help you cope with confused sexuality.

For an American comedy, it's actually quite funny. There are a variety of eccentric characters that are bound to win over you heart, boosted by good performances all round. There's the Star Wars geek, who is also a magician and has wonderful sideburns. There's the misogynistic radio presenter and his poor female colleague, formerly from unfortunately named a Cappella group The Minstrel Cycle. There's the controlling group leader who occasionally projectile vomits like the girl from The Exorcist. There's a wide eyed creepy girl who always talks in a whisper about death and destruction. And Beca's unfortunate roommate who refuses to speak to her throughout the film.

So yes, the plot is nothing new, but the characters maintain interest. The music is nothing special, possibly a little out of date but it was always going to be with a feature film. I particularly enjoyed the shout out to flame-haired quiff-sporting British songstress La Roux, and her incredibly cut-throat Bulletproof seemed fitting for Beca's favourite song.

Anna Kendrick gives a decent performance is Beca, taking that traditional comedy role as the only sane one amidst an ensemble cast of total nutters (think The Vicar of Dibley). She doesn't overplay the fact that she has no friends, keeping this a light-hearted affair. Although how she can cry at The Breakfast Club is beyond me. In fact referenced that particular film wasn't the wisest idea as that gave a more eye-opening account of adolescence than this movie.

This will not leave you with any lasting thoughts of "the pain of puberty" (Graham Greene quoted in Donnie Darko if anyone's interested), it's an amusing way to pass a couple of hours. As I've already noted, the humour is surprisingly good. My favourite scene involved making snow angels in vomit. You have to see it to believe it.

Moving on from this optimistic affair, we head towards the utter bleakness of Let Me In. While Beca's problems were underplayed, Owen's certainly aren't. He is bullied, or rather terrorised, by his sadistic classmates. His father has left home, and his mother doesn't much care for him. He's prone to moonlight wandering, where he comes across introverted Abby (Chloe Grace Mortez). The two are soon drawn together, and things finally start looking up for Owen. But Abby has a dark secret, and a thirst that can never be satisfied and threatens to destroy them both.

This would almost certainly have made it on to my brief examination of vampire films (15/12/12), and would probably have topped the lot of them. It's marketed as a horror film, but it's so much more than that. The two sides of Abby's personality seem irreconcilable, you can't help but like her as Owen's salvation but are utterly terrified of her when she's around anyone else. The central question is "how far can you forgive the ones you love when they do terrible things?". Should what a person is to you or what the person is really like take precedence when judging them. A running theme is burning, both by fire and acid, and this reminded me of the theme of burning away pretence in The Crucible to discover who we really are.

Once the film is over, I think it's impossible to be quite sure if Owen's resolution is a condemnation to a life of misery and evil or a triumphant stand for the ones we love against arbitrary barriers of morality (images of religion abound, which to me suggest that we're meant to think religion is just a method of fear to encourage us to act in socially acceptable ways. Owen himself asks "is there such a thing as evil?"). Morality is called into question all the way, personally I found the attacks on Owen at school more gruesome than Abby's guardians killings to satisfy his beloved's appetite, as at least there is a dimension of love to the latter. Although there's always a part of you that wishes to see Abby meet a grisly end as punishment for the lives she's torn apart, you can never fully condemn her as evil because of Owen's adoration of her. Bizarrely enough, if Abby wasn't a vampire this would be an uplifting tale of the power of friendship.

The acting is truly outstanding considering the ages of the two leads, and by the end you're rooting for both of their characters despite the terrible things they've both done. Matt Reeves (director) does a fantastic job of maintaining the dark and eerie tone throughout (he did a good job with Cloverfield too, which was sadly let down by weak characterisation), giving a twisted fairytale quality to certain aspects of the story but carefully balancing this with moments of pure despair and suspense. The choral music adds to the dreamlike feel of proceedings.

There are only a couple of things I didn't like. Firstly, the opening flashforward to the middle of the story seemed clumsy and was unnecessary, giving the film a weak opening. Secondly, one of the attacks was actually made to be quite humorous, a man is assaulted in his car while his friends are obliviously nattering away outside. But I suppose dark humour offered a little light relief.

Personally, I adored this film and it will haunt me for quite some time. However, not everyone will agree. For starters. many prefer the movie this is based on: Let The Right One In, a subtitled Swedish version. But as I'm lazy and personally can't appreciate the acting properly if you have to keep looking at subtitles, I think this one will do for me.

So, to conclude you have the option of a cheery musical with some decent laughs or a touching and heartbreaking parable of lonliness, friendship and forgiveness. I think most readers will know which I would favour. Let Me In is victorious.

And now for the ratings....
Pitch Perfect: 6/10
Let Me In: 9/10

Hollow Man

If you have been anywhere near a cinema recently, you will have been reliably informed that Kevin Bacon is the centre of the universe. But did you also know that Kevin Bacon is a psychotic, invisible murderer. I thought not!

From the director of the original Total Recall and Basic Instinct Paul Verhoeve, it's fair to say that you wouldn't expect this offering from 2000 to be particularly intelligent. And you'd be right, although there are a few deeper undertones.

Kevin Bacon plays Sebastien Caine, an egocentric, arrogant and narcissistic scientist. His life goal is...to make people invisible. Obviously. And when he decides to secretly perform human testing, guess who he chooses as the ideal test subject? Himself.

But, as demonstrated by Plato when he referred to the fable of the Ring of Gyges, being invisible tends to have disastrous consequences. Once attempts to render Sebastien uninvisible fail, the power gets to head. After deciding that he might as well rape, pillage and murder as no one will catch him, he goes on to perform many despicable deeds. What finally tips him over the edge is when he finds out his colleague is sleeping with his ex. In a childish strop, Bacon decides to kill everyone in the lab and then go on to terrorise the world. Mwahahaha!

As you may have already realised, the set-up is a little bit immature. Verhoeve hopes to keep his audience gripped by impressive visuals. But even these don't quite hit the spot, you initially feel repulsed by the slightly nauseating transition between visible and invisible and vise versa, but after the second time boredom prevails. In desperation for a resonant ending, Verhoeve goes down predictable lines and causes the lab to explode. But, to his credit, they are multicoloured explosions.

Tragically, Bacon is by far the best actor in this melodramatic mess, but as he spends the majority of the film invisible, he only has the power of his voice to convey his developing insanity. He manages to make the well worn role of the eccentric, slightly unhinged professor seem fresh, and is a sumptuous villain, charming and charismatic but wonderfully evil. And, as you come to realise by the end of the film, he is practically immortal. The rest of the cast aren't called upon to do much other than look worried and die dramatically.

In the film's favour there are some great lines, which are more or less monopolised by Sebastien. "It's amazing what you can do when you don't have to look at yourself in the mirror any more" nicely sums up Plato's ideas about their being no morality if there was no consequences. Also, the central concept of an invisible psychopath that could pounce at any moment is a good one, although it has been exploited many times.

But sadly, apart from the horrible image of a naked Kevin Bacon flashing his innards at you being burnt on to your retinas, the movie leaves no lasting impact. It has fleeting moments of cleverness, but you are left with the feeling that Sebastien's fall from grace could have been managed better, turning it in to a tragedy rather than just another horror flick.

Rating: 3/10

Quickfire Reviews (Part 1)

Some quick reviews of some films that are worth your while, and some that aren't.

The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey

Essentially a more light-hearted version of Lord of the Rings, with the same flaws. It's all about impressive visuals, and Peter Jackson's love of eye candy almost ruined The Lovely Bones, only saved by the heartbreak of Sebold's original novel and some decent acting. This time there's no sort of plot to save it, so Jackson wheels out endless mythical creatures (trolls, elves, orks) that are expected to drive the film. The end result is utterly hollow, and as Jackson insists on spreading the whole thing out over three films, you're left in pretty much the same place you started from. The only saving graces are Martin Freeman's mastery of the bewildered look and the amusing scenes with Gollem.

Rating: 4/10


Scream 3

After the slight disappointment of Scream 2 this felt like a nice way to round off the trilogy. Sidney (Neve Campbell) has just about reached breaking point, after facing four successive killers out for her blood. She's isolated herself from the world, but a final lunatic is out to finish her off. We're taken right back to the beginning of the trilogy, and it is finally revealed how the whole thing started and who killed Sidney's mother. The suspense is managed with virtuoso style, with the new development that the killer can mimic our heroes voices. Plus, the strange subplot of the Stab film series that confused the second film is finally taken advantage of in a humorous manner, and the running theme of the ethics of horror movies is brought to a close. The three leads give credible performances, and have succeeded in making us care about their characters. All in all, a satisfying conclusion. The only shadow hanging over it is that they made a fourth one, when this clearly should have been the final instalment.

Rating: 6/10


The Truman Show

Truman beats The Matrix hands down as a dramatisation of Plato's analogy of the cave because this movie also tackles the stranglehold consumerism has on the world (product placement occurs not so subtly throughout Truman's life); it focuses on the desire for people to explore the world rather than stay confined to a hometown saturated in painful memories (although not quite as well as in What's Eating Gilbert Grape) and it manages both pathos and humour. With important themes of the shortcomings of a seemingly perfect existence, this works as so much more than an extended metaphor, which is what caused The Matrix to fall short. Jim Carrey gives one of his best performances, as he teeters on the edge of sanity in his search for the truth. This is an intelligent and witty affair, and its delightfully odd sense of style is addictive.

Rating: 8/10


Pandorum

Little know director Christian Alvart directs little know sci-fi/horror Pandorum, which at first seems to be a remake of Alien. The acting is nothing special, but thankfully the plot (written by Alvart and Travis Milloy) is enough to save the film from being just enough space flick. The premise is actually truly terrifying, some astronauts are trapped on a spaceship stalked by humanoid killers, and there's no way out. The tone is just about as dark as the set, which lacks all form of lighting. Some of the action is a little confused, but the unveiling of how the strange humanoid killers came to be is immensely satisfying. Jumping between Bower's hazardous journey across the spaceship and Payton's slow descent into madness back in the control room means that the action is interrupted at crucial moments, keeping you on the edge of your seat. While you're unlikely to gain any deep insight into the human condition through this film, you can at least appreciate the clever plotting.

Rating: 5/10


Scary Movie

Some advice: do not watch this film. The laughs are designed to amuse a hormonal fourteen year old and the acting is truly terrible. Scream itself was a parody of horror movies, so spoofing a spoof seemed like an odd decision in the first place. While the odd laugh may come from the more surreal moments, toilet humour and bawdiness to the extreme make this film truly dreadful.

Rating: 1/10

Life of Pi: Hollow Visual Feast or Philosophical Wonder?

As usual, on an uneventful day the call of the cinema was almost irresistible (I sometimes wonder if I am single-handedly supporting the film industry). But what to watch? Life of Pi seemed the obvious choice, supposedly a literary classic turned in to a phenomenal feat of film-making. But from the trailer it seemed to be a repetitive series of attacks by a tiger on a bedraggled boy in a boat. The visuals looked impressive, but this preview suggested the main enjoyment would be derived from animal based visions of wonderment. This however was not the case.

What the film turned out to be was intelligent and philosophical. It begins in a subdued manner, where the main themes of water (the main character is named after a French swimming pool), animals and God are introduced (an interesting mix to say the least). But the action really begins when Pi and his family are caught in a storm. Pi is the only survivor, whisked off into the tempestuous seas as the ship plummets into the icy depths. After this there's little discrepancy between the real and the imaginary.

In inexperienced hands the large section of the movie where Pi is lost at sea could become extremely tedious. But instead his impossible situation is made riveting. He's a vegetarian (he bursts into tears when he kills a fish) and has to survive against all the odds and care for a Bengal Tiger called Richard Parker (loaded with significance if you have a detailed knowledge of shipwrecks and cannibals) or risk been eaten. At this stage, the visuals are truly beautiful, probably the most spectacular I have seen in a film (it helped that I saw it in 3D). The ocean was made to appear truly spectacular, often illuminated by an eerie greenish glow to expose the many creatures swimming in the perfectly clear waters.

In the end we're presented with a touching portrait of a cruel world, but one that can somehow take us to God (and the film is open to most Gods, Pi follows three religions). Pi's relationship with the tiger is both touching and intriguing, and could be taken to represent coming to know and love a seemingly cruel God or (more disturbingly) doing battle with and eventually giving in to our inner animal instinct. Life is shown to both give and take (through the bizarre metaphor of a carnivorous island in the shape of a Hindu God which supports life during the day and devours everything at night) but in the end "all of life is an act of letting go, but what hurts the most is not taking a moment to say goodbye". It all could be incredibly bleak, Pi loses everything, but we're encouraged to accept the transient nature of our lives.

The ending is one that rivals the likes of The Sixth Sense and The Life Before Her Eyes. It changes your perception of everything that came before, and is a brilliant way to round of a hugely enjoyable piece of cinema.

Ang Lee must be congratulated for making such a breathtaking film. His previous work is a strange mix of Jane Austin, hulking green superheroes and gay cowboys. He has succeeded in making a truly wonderful film out of a supposedly unfilmable novel. And in saying that we must give credit to Yann Martel's deeply intelligent book that it's all based on, which I admit I am yet to read.

Suraj Sharma gives a decent performance as Pi, skillfully managing to keep the film interesting when there's just him and a tiger. Irrfan Khan narrates wisely as the adult Pi, and Rafe Spall puts in a nice cameo as a writer who hopes to be inspired by Pi's story. They all manage to portray credible characters without fireworks or bizarre over the top character traits. Essentially, they make their characterisations subtle to allow the visuals and deeper meaning of it all to grab our attention.

Life of Pi is almost certainly one of the best films I've seen this year, and I believe it is a triumph of modern cinema that intelligent and though-provoking films such as this should be marketed towards a mainstream audience.

Rating: 9/10

The Box: Richard Kelly's Latest Materpiece?

The audience for the premier of Donnie Darko

In 2001, a film with a budget of $4.5 million but with soaring ambitions was unleashed on the world. Cinema would never be the same again. Philosophy, time-travel, bildungsroman, horror, mental health issues, romance and politics were all blended together to create a surreal and unforgettable world. The characters would linger on well after the credits rolled, and the haunting conclusion along with Gary Jules's Mad World would shatter even a heart of stone. The film was Donnie Darko and the director was Richard Kelly.


He's got soul, but he's not a soldier

Naturally, expectations were high for the next movie that Kelly was to helm after cult success Donnie Darko. And to many Southland Tales was a huge disappointment. It's essentially Kelly's ode to pop culture, but his ideas have got so big that a huge percentage of the film doesn't make a lot of sense. While Donnie Darko felt like something important and meaningful, Southland Tales seemed to be deliberately shallow. It was a convoluted mess. However, it had a great soundtrack including Muse and Radiohead. In the end, the most memorable moment is the musical number where strangeness occurs to the backing of All These Things That I've Done by The Killers. It seemed Kelly was finished. Nothing he could do would live up to Donnie Darko. The success of that film would seem to be a shadow over the rest of his career, and the critics would endlessly point out the failure of his new films to meet the Darko standard.


Arlington Steward (Frank Lagella) drops in on the Lewis family for some carol singing.

Then in 2009, Kelly returned. Rather than going bigger (nothing could really be bigger than Southland Tales) he's deliberately toned things down a bit. Gone are the large ensemble casts of weird and wonderful characters. Gone are the tangled time-travel related messiness. Gone are the endless references to pop culture that Kelly seemed to take so much pleasure out of (it started with Patrick Swayze and ended with Justin Timberlake and The Rock). All the signs seemed to suggest that Richard Kelly was growing up (he's only 37 now, bless him!). He'd even replaced the silly Arabic style font from Donnie Darko with titles for The Box that scream "I'm a serious film about serious people doing serious things, take me seriously!".

However, The Box is still a little bit silly, but that's what we loved about Donnie Darko. And The Box still hasn't escaped the Darko shadow. Norma Lewis (Cameron Diaz) is essentially a nastier version of Miss Pomeroy, the screaming teacher from DD. There's also a creepy book, which seems to have been illustrated by the same person as The Philosophy of Time Travel, the diagrams are almost identical. There's even a creepy teenager. And people laugh at inappropriate things, which I couldn't help but compare to Donnie getting the giggles before he was obliterated by a jet engine.

But I'm missing the point, The Box is a fantastic film. Near the beginning, the film seems a little simplistic. It's based on a short story, so I feared that much of the of the two hours would have to be padding. The premise is frightfully simplistic, push the button and you get 1 million pounds, but someone you don't know will die. A simple moral decision, but one which the grubby characters inevitably get wrong. But they don't quite realise what they're going in for. Some shady body, headed by the charming but sinister Arlington Steward (Frank Langella) is using the box as an altruism test to judge whether it's worth allowing the human race to continue living. He has the incredibly scary power of possessing anyone he chooses to spy on our misguided heroes.

Things start getting more and more convoluted, until the Lewis family are faced with a final moral decision that will involve the ultimate sacrifice. Along the way, we arrive at an idea of God being an extension of science that we don't quite understand and the somewhat Iranean idea of Earth being some form of purgatory. Human ethics are revealed to be based on Darwinian selfishness. Images of deformity abound, both physical and that ugliness of character that we try to keep hidden from our loved ones. Satre gets name-dropped. Oh, and Martian water has got something to do with it. So yes, Richard Kelly is still odd.

Cameron Diaz doesn't do a bad job as the selfish, yet fairly ordinary woman who inadvertently condemns her family to misery, although some scenes seem overplayed. Although you know she has to face punishment for essentially killing someone, you do feel a little sympathy for her. Her husband (James Marsden) makes a much better hero than Boxer Santaros in Southland Tales (who, like the viewer, was utterly confused by proceedings), showing the appropriate determination to make things right. But Frank Lagella steals the show as Arlington Steward, a villain who is both terrifying and heartbreaking.

The screenplay is occasionally clumsy ("What does it mean to know some one?", while being an interesting philosophical question, has no relation to the conversation the Lewis family are meant to be having) and the plot appears a little contrived at times (Arlington Steward sees it fit to describe his plans in great depth to an inquisitive subordinate, not the subtlest way for Kelly to convey his ideas). There are a lot of questions that are left unanswered, but ambiguity and mystery have always been key to Kelly's work. And [SPOILER START] after the death of Donnie and Boxer Santaros, it seems a little repetitive to kill off Norma Lewis as well, but I suppose Kelly is trying to conform to formal tragic structure [SPOILER END].

But I'm being pedantic. I really loved this film. It's nowhere as near as polished as you can expect from equally intelligent directors like Christopher Nolan, but it's infinitely more raw and philosophical, making it more interesting. This is a must-see for fans of Donnie Darko and Southland Tales (if there are such things as Southland Tales fans). It passes the test of any good film, it lingers in the memory long after viewing.

Richard Kelly's Ratings
Donnie Darko: 10/10
Southland Tales: 3/10
The Box: 7/10

Wes Craven Selection

'Twas a dark and stormy night.The wind is causing spectral trees to tap against the window. The moon is full, but its pale luminescence is shielded from the eye by wispy, aimless clouds. Far off, the sound of long fingernails can be heard scraping down a metal surface. The phone is ringing downstairs, and the likelihood is that on the other end is a madman who wants to kill us all. The room is occupied by four teenagers, one of whom is almost certainly a knife wielding, mask wearing maniac. This, I imagine, is what it is like inside Wes Craven's head.

Wes Craven's creations pay homage to the slasher movie director.

Which is why he seemed the perfect choice to watch in the early hours of the morning at a party in the murder capital of England (Leek). But, there is a danger that watching three films in a row by the same director will be a little formulaic.

The films in question are Nightmare on Elm Street and the first two instalments of the Scream quadrilogy. And they have a lot in common. Both films revolve around an easily identifiable (some may say gimmicky) fiend who for some reason wants to slice open innocent teenagers. Secondly, both villains have a camp run. Freddie Kruger skips along while Ghostface flails his fetching black cape around. Thirdly, there is always a strong resourceful heroine who tries their best to outwit the killer. Nancy comes up with some bizarre scheme to kill Freddie Kruger (again) in Nightmare on Em Street while Sidney battles through a life of sinister boyfriends, persistent reporters and murderous lunatics with stoic courage. So yes, they are formulaic (although Scream has a lot of fun pointing out that all horror films are formulaic).

Although Nightmare on Elm Street has boring acting and little plot, there are still many good things about it. It's fantastically surreal, stairs turn in to sludge, hands emerge out of bathtubs and a woman is dragged through a window. The dreamlike nature of the nightmares is captured wonderfully. Plus, the central concept of a child murderer come back from the dead after being burnt alive is a good one, although it would be nice if Freddy got a bit more to say. It's brought down by bland leads (including Johnny Depp surprisingly) and the fact that its not really that scary (which is probably why there's a 2010 remake).

Scream  is, in my opinion, much better. While NOES is simply trying to be a horror movie, Scream  is trying to parody all horror movies, and introducing some humour into the mix was a good move. Craven even makes fun of his previous film, Ghostface and his soon-to-be victim discuss NOES on the phone (while taking a snipe at the sequels which he didn't direct) and for some unidentifiable reason the cleaner seems to be dressed up as Freddy.

The villain now is simply a man (or is it men?) in a scary suit. But the catch is that it could be anyone of your friends who is out for your blood. The film makes a great deal of suggesting that it's Sidney's creepy boyfriend (Skeet Ulrich excels at creepiness), but is this just a red herring? The characters are much better developed than in NOES. Neve Campbell reminds me a little of Jeniffer Lawrence in Winter's Bone, giving off the sense of being battered by bereavement yet soldiering on. Her misfortune is on the same level as Ripley's from the Alien  quadrilogy, the nasty men in masks just will not leave her alone. Courtney Cox plays Gale Weathers, an initially repulsive character who constantly winds poor Sidney up. But just as Sidney has her defects (unlike Nancy from NOES, who doesn't have enough personality to have defects), Gale actually has numerous virtues.

The second instalment isn't quite as thrilling. While the first film seemed to have a love of the horror genre (although it does question the morality of it all- "movies don't create psychos, they make psychos more creative"), you get the distinct feeling that the second film is in love with the first one. We're constantly shown footage from a fictional film based on the events of the first film called Stab. This adds nothing to the plot.

Plus, while Scream 2 is right in its assertion that the body count is bigger and the murders are indeed more elaborate, it all seems a little samey. While it goes on to develop the characters from the first film nicely (David Arquette is immortal though, that man has sustained more than his fair share of knife wounds), the set-up could do with a little tweaking. Personally, I would have preferred it if they just stopped after the first one, just like they should have stopped at the second one with the Alien films (that particuar franchise has the unique situation of the third film trying to be a remake of the first one, and the the fourth film effectively being a remake of the second). There's only so many ways you can be attacked by an alien or knife wielding lunatic. Why can't franchises simply go out on a high rather than allowing their central concepts to become tired and repetitive?

So, my opinion on Wes Craven? He's a man who has identified a niche in the film industry and is determined to exploit it for all its worth. But the same could be said of Christopher Nolan (complex thrillers light on character development) and Richard Kelly (twisted films that have an awful lot of meaning to them that does't always come across too well). Just because Mr. Craven has unfortunately become stuck in a niche, it doesn't mean he can't direct breathlessly entertaining horror/comedies.

But how does Craven perform in the ratings?
A Nightmare on Elm Street: 5/10
Scream: 7/10
Scream 2: 4/10

Topical Ponderings: Are We Bored of Vampire Films?

The Frog brothers pull a silly pose

Last night I decided to finish The Lost Boys trilogy. The third film was possibly even more ridiculous than the previous two, but Corey Feldman, who had been faintly annoying as the older Edgar Frog in the second one, shone when he was placed in the foreground. The hedonistic, teenagery aspect of the previous Lost Boys film was pushed to the side in favour of comic vampire shenanigans. There was a nice little dig at Stephenie Meyer as well by including a deluded vampire romance writer. With a satisfying and humorous climax, the final instalment in The Lost Boys trilogy was neat and fun, although not necessarily good (certainly better than the lacklustre second film though).

This was all very well and good, but it got me thinking about the vast array of vampire films I have consumed over the past few years. They're everywhere, and practically everyone is trying to put a different spin on the bloodsuckers. But which works best? The contestants are: Dracula, Van Helsing, Fright Night, Dark Shadows and Daybreakers. The fight for the best vampire film is on!

Bizarre seems the most fitting adjective to describe Dracula (1992). The count alternates from being old with silly hair to young and dashing with a silly hat, seemingly randomly, and for some strange reason changes into a strange werewolf type creature occasionally. A lot of strange things happen for the sake of strangeness, but this seems to add to the film.

We actually end up rooting for the Count, as he seems a much better lover than Mina's dreadfully boring husband Jonathon Harker. The famous vampire is lovelorn, having become demonic after his one true love Elizabeta launched herself from a balcony. But his romantic prospects are looking up, as he discovers that the fiance of Harker, who he now has imprisoned in his playboy castle (well it seems that way) is actually Elizabeta reincarnated. Strangely, Dracula decides the best course of action is to turn Mina's best friend Lucy into a vampire first, which makes her various manly friends so pissed off that they decide to hunt Dracula down.

The acting talent on display is brilliant. Gary Oldman is Dracula, Wiona Ryder is Mina, Anthony Hopkins is a slightly deranged Van Helsing and Keanue Reeves is the frightfully boring Harker. Dracula is represented as the vampiric version of Heathcliff, incredibly romantic but equally dangerous. His ability to seduce women is his most terrifying power, which remains loyal to the book. So all in all, this is an arty take on vampires, and is possibly the definitive vampire film.

But while Dracula seemed perfectly content wreaking havoc across Whitby and other idyllic English locations, he always seemed more at home in Transylvania, which is marvellously recreated in the 2004 film Van Helsing. Hugh Jackman has replaced Anthony Hopkins as Van Helsing, the films titular action hero. He has a vast array of monsters to deal with, including werewolves, Frankenstein's monster, Mr. Hyde, harpies and Dracula himself. But this is, above all, a family film, Dracula with stabilisers on if you like. There are some fairly decent action sequences, but the stunts and the marvellous visuals take priority over any character development. Richard Roxburgh is Dracula on steroids. He has a castle, a cape and is bombastically evil. He is a comic book villain (the whole film is essentially a comic book like affair), not Gary Oldman's tortured soul. And Hugh Jackman just seems to good at killing vampire to be a vampire hunter. In the tradition of the original Van Helsing, Peter Vincent and Edgar Frog, vampire hunters are just dreadful at hunting vampires.

But lets not forget that Stephen Sommer's (director of Van Helsing) is the champion of family horror/action films. He was a major staple of my early cinematic experiences, Van Helsing used to be my favourite film at the age of around 10, closely followed by Sommer's other action romp The Mummy. While not a serious contender for the title of best vampire film, it does what it says on the tin, great visuals and family friendly action.

I suppose we need a brief mention of where vampire films went wrong: Twilight. Why is it so disastrous? Firstly, the vampires seem not to care about drinking people's blood. One of my favourite vampires is Mitchell from Being Human (a brilliant Aidan Turner), who tries his best to remain sober, but inevitably has the occasional bloody relapse which he then spends ages brooding over. He started of as a nice easy going chap, but by the event of his death he was fairly close to being evil. The anaemic Robert Pattison seems the sort of boy you'd invite round to dinner with your parents, not a tortured soul constantly doing battle with the urge to plunge his teeth into you throat. Secondly, it never seemed high on Dracula's agenda to have healthy, long term relationships. Although he yearned for Mina, he still didn't mind a brief murderous fling with her best friend beforehand. The film is tragically awful, and should be resigned to the scrapheap of cinema.

Moving on to 2011, and it was someones clever idea to remake an old horror flick: Fright Night. I've never seen the original, but I must admit that I quite enjoyed it. It tried is best to have some moments that were fairly scary. while maintaining a light, humorous tone. Anton Yelchin is non-descript as the typical teenager with the misfortune of having a vampire move in next door. But it's two supporting performances the make this film amusing. Colin Farrell is a marvellous vampire. While Richard Roxburgh came over as faintly camp and Gary Oldman marvellously out of his time, he plays a modern, fairly ordinary vampire who maintains the facade of being a friendly neighbour while draining kidnapped girls dry inside his house. David Tennant meanwhile plays celebrity vampire hunter Peter Vincent, a self-obsessed but ultimately useless figure forced to wear too tight leather trousers for a living. The melodrama is limited, which adds to the fun. Fright Night is nothing special, but still an enjoyable romp.

This year, Tim Burton decided to get a piece of the vampire action with Dark Shadows. Johnny Depp is Barnabus Collins, who becomes undead when Eva Green (a witch) takes revenge on his family for being jilted. In 1972, Barnabus is set free after 200 years imprisonment, and tries to make amends for the various villagers he's killed by helping out his oddball family. While Dracula actively tried to seduce women, Barnabus faces unwanted attention from all angles, Eva Green's still out to get him and Helena Bonham Carter's alcoholic professor fancies eternal youth. The fun emerges from Dark Shadows as it's so delightfully odd, and there's a lot going on, partially due to the fact that it was adapted from a soap. It proves that both Tim Burton and vampires can still be a lot of fun, and thrives from the marvellous performance of Johnny Depp.

Surely we've exhausted all the possible avenues to explore with our favourite bloodsuckers. It appears not. In Daybreakers, vampires get political. Although it's nowhere near as loyal to Stoker's vampires as the other films, it seems an excellent modern interpretation. In Stoker's day, our greatest fear was letting our passions control us and breaking strict moral and sexual codes. Nowadays, big corporations and the suppression of the proletariat (yes, vampires can be Marxist) is more relevant. Ethan Hawke is a nice vampire, uncomfortable with the evil corporation's harvesting of human blood. He needs to find a blood substitute as there aren't many humans left, and hungry vampires transform into demented bat-like creatures when going dry for too long. Represented here are our own struggle as we run out of resources and the fact that in certain societies, governments only worry about the lower orders when they start becoming a threat to their political power (or in this case, running rampage). Evil companies also sacrifice general decency and human lives for profit. The acting is nothing special and the horror is sparse, but this new dimension to the undead is refreshing and interesting.

So, in the end, I think ultimately Dracula  is artistically the best film, but for a bit of fun vampire action, you can't go wrong with Fright Night and Dark Shadows. Meanwhile, look to Daybreakers for an intelligent twist on a now increasingly tired aspect of horror.

And now, the ratings....
Lost Boys: The Thirst: 4/10
Dracula: 5/10
Van Helsing: 3/10
Twilight: 3/10
Fright Night: 5/10
Dark Shadows: 7/10
Daybreakers: 6/10

To Kill a Mockingbird

After last week's somewhat unpleasant glimpses into the perversion of modern film-making, I felt it was time to take a sentimental trip back in cinematic history. My journey would take me to a time where trees contained trinkets from a reclusive but kind-hearted neighbour, and didn't try to rape you (which is precisely what happens in The Evil Dead, reviewed last week). To a time when actors could really nail a part without frequent pyrotechnical displays of emotion. To a time where sleepy small town America gave you a warm, fuzzy feeling inside rather than made you wallow in the bleakness of human existence (I'm looking at you Winter's Bone!). To a time where the accents were barely discernible. And, unfortunately, to a time where racism was the norm.

The court hopes Atticus's legal skills match his superb dress sense.

To begin with, I must stress that To Kill a Mockingbird is a fantastic book. Although it is relatively short, it contains so much plot that it would be impossible to fit it all into one film. And the reason I sometimes disliked this film is that it often fell short of the book. Dill (John Megna) becomes a completely pointless character instead of an important party of Jem's bumpy road to maturity, which was completely glossed over. Mrs Dubose (Ruth White) was one of the most heartbreaking characters in the book, here the tragedy of her death and her inner courage are completely done away with. So, when compared to the book, it's reasonable to say that the film is a total failure, as is usually the case. However, when taken on its own, the film is a little gem.

It's all shot in black and white as it was made in 1962. At first I thought I'd find this annoying, but it adds to the cosiness and nostalgia of Maycomb. The narration by the older Scout is a feature they emphasised from the book, and I think adds to proceedings, showing the impact the events of Scout and Jem's childhood would have on their adult life. However, the incidental music is truly terrible and about as subtle as being clobbered in the face with a cricket bat. And if you think that's simply a characteristic of the period, then I would refer you to the closing scenes of Doctor Strangelove, or How I Learnt to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb. Both films are a sign that cinema was doing great things in the Sixties, although Strangelove undoubtedly has the better soundtrack.

Although this sounds facile, the films is very long, and there are many scenes of the children playing that work a lot better on paper than they do in the film. Although the perspective of the innocent is fascinating, it's the adults we're really concerned about. And as this is the case, it's a good thing the adults can act. Gregory Peck is the archetypal Atticus. Although I would have originally liked to see him older and bookier, his liberal calmness is superbly executed. Brock Peters is suitably heartbreaking as Tom Robinson, and his tears make you realise how utterly unfair the whole farce is. Collin Wilcox is blatantly out of depth as Mayella Ewell, and James Anderson is an utterly terrible human being as her father. Even more than in the book, I wanted bad things to happen to both of them.

In the end, I quite enjoyed this film. I think literary adaptations are a mixed bag. Sometimes they almost rival the books they are based on (The Perks of Being a Wallflower) and sometimes they are utterly terrible with only a few moments of brilliance (Nineteen-Eighty Four, The Lovely Bones). This falls somewhere in the middle. It's a lovely bit of cuddly nostalgia (although it is fundamentally about the murder of a negro by the state) and screenwriter Horton Foote does keep the books important speeches in their entirety, but I would strongly recommend the book over this adaptation.

Rating: 6/10

The Evil Dead/ Lost Boys: The Tribe

I have lost precious hours of my life. Why? Because somehow my film viewing has experienced an influx of dreadful horror films. And I mean dreadful. In The Evil Dead, five teenagers journey to a cabin in the woods (sound familiar?) where one by one they are possesed by evil tree demons after reading a book bound in human flesh. Obviously the premise of a truly sensible movie. The second instalment of The Lost Boys trilogy isn't a lot better. After my continuous rants about sequels, I begin to wonder why I subjected myself to it.


Alluring vampires

Hideous zombies

I shall begin my rant with The Evil Dead, which has got low budget written all over it. The same bookcase lands on a man several times. The cabin is substantially bigger on the inside. The zombies die by turning into Plasticine while plastic flies crawl over them. The screenplay is truly dreadful. The acting is such that it's more believable when they're being zombies.

Not only is it cheap, but it's also nasty. A woman is raped by a tree. Really. Another woman is stabbed through the heel with a pencil. Several bodies are badly mutilated. The nastiness doesn't even make sense. Why are the trees aroused? Why is the first thought that comes into your head when you're possessed to attack people with stationary?

There is some glimmers of hope though. For a start, without The Evil Dead, there would be no The Cabin in the Woods. The films are practically identical. There's a trapdoor that randomly opens at a key moment, a mysterious book which summons all kinds of strangeness, an isolated cabin in the middle of nowhere and five students who will all die in horrible ways. The only difference is that The Cabin in the Woods is a knowing spoof and has a Truman Show cleverness about it, I have a nasty feeling that the makers of The Evil Dead were trying to be serious.

However, as our hero is attacked continuously by his now hilariously demented possessed friends, I began to find the film quite fun, and (dare I say it) I was hoping that he wouldn't be possessed or eaten. The swinging chair that continuously knocked against the cabin at crucial moments was a nice detail, and in some places the suspense was managed quite well. In fact, by the end, I sort of understood why it was a cult hit.

But, horror is just around the corner, quite literally. There's a remake. And this time it's got fangs. As I began to watch the trailer, I was warned that it was for mature audiences only, and by the end I agreed. The possessed now lack the silly make-up that made the original like some surreal cheese-induced dream rather than true unpleasantness. One of them cuts their tongue in two with a knife (why?). And then it dawned on me that in its day, The Evil Dead was nastiness for the sake of nastiness, and all that's happened is that its been adapted for a desensitised modern audience. But on the plus side, the acting looks a lot better (the soppy scenes where Bruce Campbell fails to mutilate his girlfriend were laughable and had zero emotional impact in the original).

And so I turned to Lost Boys: The Tribe, in the hope of reviving my faith in the horror genre. The Lost Boys made vampires rock and roll, and I admit, probably played a large part in spawning the Twilight films. But it was the natural progression for vampire films. Dracula embodied the fear of shady foreigners, and expressed a subconscious desire to break away from traditional moral constraints. Now, it's about remaining in the wild days of one's youth, and taking teenage bad behaviour to savaging unsuspecting women on beaches.

To be completely honest, I can hardly remember the original, I watched it years ago. But what I do know is that it wasn't as bad as this lack-luster sequel. It was made twenty years on from the eighties original, and two hugely annoying siblings move to a town with an unusually high vampire population. Through sheer carelessness (never accept a hip flask from a shady man with silly hair) both end up being vampires as well. The acting is utterly terrible. Angus Sutherland makes a reasonable job at being surfer-vampire-dude Shane, but even he isn't totally convincing. Corey Feldman is hugely irritating as the utterly silly vampire hunter Edgar Frog, who I remember as being much less strange when he was twenty years younger. Gabrielle Rose is amusing as Aunt Jillian, but she gets so little screen time that she has no hope of counter-balancing the dreadful acting smothering the film from all corners.

There's gratuitous nudity (you lose count of how many women flash their breasts at you by the end) and pointless sex scenes. A lot of it feels awkward due to the poor acting. The climax is completely disappointing, the supposedly invincible vampire tribe are defeated within minutes. The whole thing makes you wonder why they bothered. In one of the reviews I read, an angry man talks of the film "raping his childhood", much like one of the trees from The Evil Dead.

But, as ever, there are glimmers of hope amongst the sheer dreadfulness. The best line of the film is when Nicole is repulsed by her thirst for blood because she's a vegetarian. And to be honest, the screenplay isn't that bad and the directing is actually quite good, with some sleek, arty shots.

In the end, you can forgive both films for being dreadful because at heart neither are meant to be taken seriously. It was naive of me to assume that I would get a decent film out of evil tree demons and adolescent vampires. Despite this minor setback however, I shall persist with the horror genre, and see if there is anything to be salvaged from within the gore, nastiness and amateurish acting.

TO BE CONTINUED....

The Evil Dead: 3/10
Lost Boys: The Tribe: 2/10

Great Expectations/The Commitments

Broken dreams. We just love to make films about them. It seems people vicariously enjoy the tragic downfall of a protagonist who set his/her aspirations just a little too high, who romanticised just a little too much until reality hits him/her squarely in the face. Most are familiar with the story of Pip, whose encounter with the enchanting (but ultimately heartless) Estella give him ideas above his station, before he is suddenly propelled into the unruly world of the London gentry. Less are familiar with Irish soul band The Commitments, determined to take the Irish soul scene by storm. But which is better?

Miss Havisham's got soul (but she's not a soldier).

The Commitments plot their revenge on menfolk.

Great Expectations could have easily been crushed by the weight of history. There's hundreds of them! I don't think I know of a film that's had so many remakes. One in 1946, then 1989, then 1998, then 1999 and another one just a year ago. You may ask yourself why we are so intent on making the same film over and over again, with an endless cycle of Pips, Estellas, Magwitches and Miss Havishams. Is it because we never quite get it right?

I must admit to only having seen the 2011 BBC production before, which somehow seemed to get less done in its three hours than the 2012 one does in two. The 2011 Pip was characterless, his romance with Estella underdeveloped, and while the choice of X Files star Gillian Anderson to play Miss Havisham made her a truly unhinged woman rather than a mad old bat, she still resisted my longing to sympathise with her. While there was some great moments, particularly the revelation of Pip's benefactor at the end of episode 2, it always seemed there was a better version out there somewhere.

I remember last Christmas this new one caused quite a stir. Firstly, many didn't see the point of yet another film just a year after the last one. Secondly, they seemed to take objection to Helena Bonham Carter playing Miss Havisham on the grounds that she was too young. But nevertheless here it is. When the film began, I questioned the wisdom of having the same story regurgitated to me with only a few minor alterations. The reviews of this suggest it's not daring enough. I'm not quite sure what they're after, Magwitch turning out to be Pip's cross dressing mother in disguise perhaps?

To put it briefly: I loved it. The main reason for this was the acting talent. The best of the best in terms of British actors are involved in this project. Jeremy Irvine is a sensation as Pip, the awkwardness of his arrival in London, the deterioration in his relationship with Joe (Jason Flemyng from Primeval) and his longing for Estella are done with equal finesse. He's fantastic as Pip realises the mistakes he's made. Holliday Grainger makes a good stab at Estella, capturing her iciness beautifully, although perhaps not quite living up to Irivine's Pip. Robbie Coltrane makes the remarkable move of giving Jaggers a conscience, which David Suchet failed to do in the 2011 version. You can see that Jaggers knows the damage he's causing by his elaborate web of deceit, but yet he proceeds with Miss Havisham's evil plans. Ralph Fiennes initially struck me as an inferior Magwitch to Ray Winstone's 2011 version, but it was him who eventually made me shed a tear as the film reached its climax.

The highlight of the film has to be Helena Bonham Carter. She was born to play Miss Havisham. She's at once deranged, scheming, utterly malevolent, vengeful and yet a tragic figure rather than merely just a villain. Unlike the 2011 counterpart, in this film we see the moment Miss Havisham is jilted. The contrast between mad and not-mad Miss Havisham is extraordinary, and the blood curdling scream as she realises what they've done to her sends a shiver down the spine. The most powerful moment of the film for me was when the assorted menfolk left Miss Havisham sitting at the table with the wedding feast laid out and close a huge curtain on her to let her and the food rot. The end of Miss Havisham is heartbreaking, her face is burnt away to reveal an outward representation of the monster she's become, squealing "forgive me" at Pip. The only downside is that the laborious attempts to establish a forbidding atmosphere every time Pip journeys to Havisham's house quickly become tedious.

It's a stylish affair, the screenplay is brilliant and it succeeds in making the tale seem fresh. But credit must go to Mr Dickens for writing this fantastic novel (currently sitting on my bookshelf, waiting to be read).

While Great Expectations left me somewhat shaken, The Commitments had no lasting impact. It's a charming enough film, the soundtrack is great and Robert Arkins gives a credible performance as our chirpy lead. Set in Ireland before it became a Celtic Tiger, the poverty is largely glossed over in favour of the predictable transformation of the band from a hopeless, disparate group to a credible soul band. Only troubled is none of The Commitments seem particularly committed. Their loathsome lead singer has ideas above his station (but unlike Pip, we feel no sympathy for him) and one of their number is thinking of moving to jazz!

It's often slow, predictable and we're left wanting more from the soulful vicar. As we find out what has become of the characters we're meant to have connected with, I'd be surprised if anyone actually cares who's still pretending to be a musician.

So as you can probably guess, there is a clear winner. Better acting, better plot and slicker directing; you have to hand it to Great Expectations. 

Great Expectations: 7/10
The Commitments: 4/10

Silver Linings Playbook/What's Eating Gilbert Grape?

After delving in to the makings of a good comedy (be it zombies or E. M. Forster), I've decided to give the same treatment to romances-with-a-twist (yes, that celebrated genre). Far are we from Mr Darcy's country retreat, Romeo's Italian shenanigans or even Heathcliff's tempestuous passions. These cinematic treats are subtler than that. Both contain the rising stars of their day (Johnny Depp, Leanardo DiCaprio, Bradley Cooper and Jennifer Lawrence), both involve an unlikely couple and both touch on issues of mental illness. But which is better?

Bradley Cooper admires Jennifer Lawrence's acting ability and beautiful hair.

Leanardo DiCaprio admires Johnny Depp's acting ability and beautiful hair.

Once again our films are separated by time, it's been twenty years since WEGG, SLP is showing at cinemas now. And they have fairly similar plots. In WEGG, Gilbert (Depp, who would go on to break our hearts in Edward Scissorhands) is weighed down by his disabled, but ultimately lovable brother Arnie (DiCaprio, who would go on to confuse us in Inception and nauseate us in Romeo + Juliet) and a morbidly obese mother. But he's contented with his burden. That is until he meets the worldly and generally fantastic Becky (Juliette Lewis, who would go on to do nothing of note). Then he's faced with the choice of upholding his huge responsibilities and seeking fulfilment by thinking of himself for once. Can love set him free?

Twenty years later, and Pat (Bradley Cooper, star of Limitless and The Hangover) is also having a hard time of it. He's just been released from a mental hospital, after being diagnosed as bipolar after nearly bludgeoning his wife's secret lover to death. Without his wife he's lost, reduced to ranting about Ernst Hemingway to his parents at four in the morning. That is until he meets Tiffany (Jennifer Lawrence, star of Winter's Bone and The Hunger Games), who is just as unstable as he is after her husband's death. To everyone's surprise they bond over antidepressants, and this is just the beginning of a turbulent relationship that could either save them both or break them. Can love set them free? At this point I am somehow resisting breaking out in to "the power of love!".

The thing that really links these movies are the fantastic acting talent (only in WEGG is this really coupled with a top notch screenplay). Johnny Depp is wonderful as Gilbert Grape. He somehow doesn't have to say anything to convey Grape's complicated relationship with his brother and mother. This is the kind of performance that is needed to underpin the film. Meanwhile, Leanardo DiCaprio is heartbreaking as Arnie. This is arguably one of his best performances, especially considering his age at the time. Juliette Lewis is given a much easier role as Grape's love interest, which perhaps is half the reason why she can never live up to the emotional whack of the other two leads.

Moving in to the twenty-first century, and our leads both share Depp's incredible ability for playing a diverse range of characters. Bradley Cooper has so far played a drunken layabout and a hyperintelligent multi-millionaire. Here he walks the difficult line of making it impossible for any of the other characters to spend time with him, but yet make the audience like him. And he just about succeeds, more impressive is how he deals with Pat's subtle transformation under the influence of Tiffany. It's fair to say I'm a little in love with Jennifer Lawrence, and so is a good percentage of my generation (she's one of the few people who deserve the title of teen icon). So far she's plaid a feisty girl forced to confront big bad forces to save her family in Winter's Bone (where she alone was responsible for carrying the story), a discriminated-against-mutant-changeling-blue-person in X-Men: First Class and a ruthless killer-with-a-heart in The Hunger Games. Here she makes the audience fall in love with Tiffany while conveying subtly her inner struggles.

Both films also convey themes of responsibility perfectly. An insistent leitmotif in WEGG is characters telling Grape he's got to do better. He dreams of happiness for his difficult family, but when asked what he wants for himself he replies "to be a good person". And as Gilbert discovers that's not always easy. And what sacrifices should he be prepared to make to be a good person? In a telling comment, Becky describes Gilbert as not really having lived at all in his efforts to please everyone else. In SLP, there's a sense that Tiffany's sister has let her down completely, and Pat's brother is not a lot better. The shining example of placing too much on delicate shoulders is Pat's father (a classic Robert DeNiro performance), a completely OCD patriarch who demands that his son watch endless Eagles games with him, and blames him when they lose. Meanwhile Tiffany expects him to practise dancing with her endlessly on pain of death. Is this a wise burden to place on a man with bipolar?

Their take on mental illness and discrimination is dealt with wonderfully as well. WEGG tackles Arnie's disability's, depression and obesity with almost flawless delicacy (although the mother is made so fat that we're encouraged to laugh at her on several occasions, and then be ashamed). In SLP, both our leads are delicate and unstable, but their woes are nothing compared to those of the Grape family. However, the film still feels like a celebration that we're all mad in our own way, and that's a good thing. In the case of Tiffany, her directness coupled with her delicacy makes her charming rather than a focus of discrimination.

So, which is better? On acting terms: too close to call. In terms of direction: SLP has the odd arty shot, and there are a few clumsy fades-to-black in WEGG, but as a sustained effort they're just about even. In terms of screenplay: I think WEGG is better, as it frames an age old problem of responsibility vs. personal happiness which has troubled us during the rise of individualism. While SLP has some brilliant one liners, and the dialogue for WEGG occasionally feels a little contrived, there's still something poetic about WEGG which SLP seems to lack. And so, the winner is: What's Eating Gilbert Grape?.

Silver Linings Playbook: 6/10
What's Eating Gilbert Grape: 8/10

The Wicker Man (or Why Remakes are the Root of All Evil)

Honestly, do you know a good remake? The Wolfman for example. The new one is more gory, but what was wrong with the original? Another one, Arthur. As much as it was amusing watching Russell Brand stumble around, squeaking at people, where is the charm of the original? The trouble is, stories don't easily translate to a new time and place. And why bother remaking them in the first place? It's just an honourable way of saying that you're going to completely plagiarise an existing work and see if you can make some more money out of it.

So why this scathing dismissal of remakes? Well, I am ashamed to say I bought the wrong Wicker Man. Hoping to get in on the pagan weirdness, I picked up the first thing that said 'wicker man' on it. And practically everyone's trying to get in on the wicker action. After the 1973 original, a cult classic apparently (although buying the wrong one meant I still haven't seen it), it was meant to be the end. But oh no! First we have a second Wicker Man, an all-American version in 2006. Then the UK thought they might have another go, and released The Wicker Tree, which seems to be some sort of sequel.

"And I set fire to Nicholas Cage! Watched him burn as I touched your face!"

So what's wrong with the remake? The primary fault is Nicholas Cage. I cannot stand the man! Any film with him in is bound to be substandard (think National Treasure and Ghost Rider). This was a major problem, as throughout the film I was actually hoping for him to get sacrificed as a punishment for his disgrace to the acting profession. And even more horrifying is that the others are equally appalling. Kate Beahan seems incapable of any emotion whatsoever as Willow Woodward (and what sort of a name is that), a mother desperate to find her missing, possibly sacrificial daughter. Ellen Burstyn makes Sister SummersIsle, the menacing leader of the strange cult, look like a kindly old lady who occasionally comes up with some rather odd ideas.

Add to this the fact that most of the film consists of weirdness for the sake of weirdness and unanswered questions. Two of the bizarre ensemble of characters always talk in unison. Why? The barmaid appears to be a particularly burly man who's had a sex change. Why? Cage opens a door to find a smiling girl covered in bees. Why? Most infuriating is the fact that Cage can't decide if he really tried to rescue some people from a burning car, or if he just imagined the whole thing. The viewer is not considered important enough to be given a definite answer.

The worst thing is that we're meant to be terrified by this weirdness, but in the end it just leaves us mildly confused. We think "why on Earth is Nicholas Cage imagining himself holding a drowned girl?", whereas the intended reaction is "'Cor blimey! It's a creepy drowned girl!". In fact I was so bored that I became extremely annoyed by the elbow patches on Nicholas Cage's jacket. He's a police office, not a university professor.

On a more serious note, the film is horribly misogynistic. On discovering that women play a more important role than men on Summers Isle, Cage splutters "So men are what...second class citizens!". Really? So it's OK for us to utterly repress women for centuries, but if a group of them decide they're fed up and want to get their own back, that's outrageous. What's worse is that screenwriter Neil LaBute seems to want us to accept that this is morally wrong, and hope Nicholas Cage, our knight in shining armour, can put women back in their place. It's sickening.

So who is responsible for this horrible mess? I think all the actors play a part in making proceedings unbelievable and unbearable. Neil LaBute is not only responsible for a truly dreadful screenplay, but also uninteresting directing. According to IMDb, he's "an unforgiving judge of the ugly side of human nature", which makes it all the more disappointing that The Wicker Man was a resounding failure.

Returning to the theme of remakes, it's clear to see how The Wicker Man remake doesn't work. We're now meant to believe that the clan is formed from witches who fled Salem, which is nowhere near as disturbing as proposing some British people in an isolated community still cling to pagan ways. The move to the isolated Summers Isle distances us from the weirdness, and it would be much more creepy if the sacrifices were taking place on the mainland, closer to home. It was never meant to be, but alas, it is. Which is way the second Wicker Man will be forgotten while the first remains "a cult classic".

Rating: 2/10

The Cabin in the Woods/Educating Rita

I've been reviewing a lot of comedies recently, so to continue in a similar vein here are two of the most hilarious films I've seen in a while. One is about a masochistic family of zombies brutalising a group of teenagers, the other is about a university lecturer who acts like a zombie. One features Michael Caine moaning about students, the other features an evil organisation trying to bump them off. The parallels are obvious. I could go on, but mercifully I won't. But the big question is: which one's better?

Frank and Rita settle down to discuss Forster

A ravenous werewolf prepares to pounce on murderous Dana

Lets start with the Cabin in the Woods. Picture The Truman Show (one of the characters, not so coincidentally, is called Truman) but a whole lot nastier. Five students decide to spend the weekend at a deserted cabin in the woods. Unbeknown to them, an evil organisation is watching their every move. Strange things begin happening. Why have they all begun acting like traditional horror stereotypes? Was it really a good idea to read our scary things in Latin? What horrors lurk deep below the cabin? And will the end of the world be prevented?

Essentially, it's a horror movie about why horror movies exist. Sigourney Weaver's (Alien) appearance at the end is an obvious nod to the horror legacy preceding it. But the great thing is, it's tremendously funny. Richard Jenkins and Bradely Whitford excel as the distinctly humdrum architects of the bloody events that occur. At every turn the horror genre is ridiculed. A creepy garage owner spouts out over-the-top nonsense over speaker phone. The genre's obsession with sex is parodied by Jenkins and Whitford having it in their contract that they must film Jules (Anna Hutchison) bare chested before the zombies can get her. Tequila is passed around as Dana (Kristen Connolly) is brutalised by an evil zombie, showing the detachment we feel at people being ripped to pieces if we view it for our enjoyment. Every cliche in the book is delivered with knowing irony.

It's not all good news though (it rarely is). Apart from Jenkins and Whitford, the acting is nothing special, but it's what you come to expect from horror. Although the comedic elements are delivered with aplomb, there's nowhere near enough moments that instill proper fear. Plus all involved have a strange propensity for suffering grievous body wounds, and then totally forgetting about them. But despite all this, The Cabin in the Woods is something I didn't think, was possible. An intelligent zombie film.

Although perhaps, not quite as intelligent as Willy Russell's screen version of Educating Rita. Having read the play, I'm tempted to say that the movie's better, mainly because we escape from Frank's office and have more than two characters. Michale Caine delivers the goods as Frank, Rita's alcoholic uni tutor. Looking fantastically dishevelled, watching him deliver lines such as "What benefit a man if he gaineth the whole of literature and loseth his soul" before plummeting from the rostrum straight on to a student is a sight to behold. Although I think his dancing at a trendy night club narrowly tops it.

Julie Walters is equally brilliant. At first I found her brashness a little too much, but on second viewing I see it's necessary to show her transformation in to a more well rounded person as the film progresses. She plays the shocking change in Rita's character perfectly. This film is driven by the two lead performances, rather than The Cabin in the Woods which is driven by a clever plot (and zombies). In fact, the plot is perhaps too simple, most of the film consists of Caine and Walters discussing literature. But they do it brilliantly, so don't let that put you off.

The real similarity between these two films is they are both utterly hilarious, but both have deeper meanings beyond Rita's literary misdemeanours and Marty's (Fran Kanz) drug induced conspiracy theories that all turn out to be correct. Educating Rita questions the value of education and shows the many divides in our nation. The Cabin in the Woods questions our perverted love of horror and gore, and at its heart has the moral dilemma of what is acceptable to save the world (most would argue killing college students isn't).

They're both brilliant example of comedy, separated by almost 30 years. Educating Rita is emotionally richer, whereas The Cabin in the Woods is potentially more entertaining. But which is better? I like zombies, but then again I like Shakespeare and Blake. To be honest, it's too close to call. Everyone's a winner!

The Cabin in the Woods: 7/10
Educating Rita: 7/10

Seeking a Friend for the End of the World

Anyone for a feel-good film about the end of everything? I thought so. The fact that this film exists is an oddity, even more so that it's attracted the big names of Keira Knightley (A Dangerous Method, Anna Kerenina) and Steve Carrel (The 40 Year Old Virgin). The two things that initially drew me to it were a) the long title (it worked for Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind) and b) the end of the world (I watch an unhealthy amount of films about the apocalypse, e.g. The Road). But did it live up to my expectations?

Keira Knightley and Steve Carrell master the nervous smile.

Dodge (Steve Carrell) is not having a great time of it. His wife has run away, turned out she never loved him and was having an affair. It seems like he'll be spending the end of the world alone (unless its on a Thursday and then his persistent cleaner will keep him company). Out of nowhere comes the eccentric veering on emotionally unstable Penny (Keira Knightley). Shortly the pair are off on a road trip hampered by various surreal encounters showing the extremes of human nature when confronted with the end. You can probably guess how it ends.

However, even though the plot is predictable, there are moments when the screenplay simply comes alive. Knightley gets all the best lines, one of my favourites being "I promise not to steal anything if you promise not to rape me". And the sheer randomness of some of their encounters on the road trip are wonderful. After hitching a ride with a bearded man who hired an assassin to finish himself off, they arrive at a diner where the staff have descended into a strange drug induced sexual orgy. Throughout the film Dodge carries a small dog he's inherited while Penny clings on to her record collection (I admit a bit of Florence would make the end of the world a lot easier for me).

Although Carrel gets a little boring at times (you feel he's been playing the same role for the entirety of his acting career, from my brief knowledge of his other work he probably has), his presence is essential to stop the film spiralling off into cloud cuckoo land. And he's the perfect match for Knightley, who provides the fireworks with cute eccentricities and frequent emotional breakdowns. In fact after this I've almost forgiven her for the various Pirates of the Caribbean films and the strange thing she did with her jaw in A Dangerous Method.

The director is someone you will have never heard off (Lorene Scafaria), who also wrote the movie. The reason you'll have never heard of her is that this is her first directing role, although bizarrely she was involved in another project called Nick and Nora's Infinite Playlist (which seems to be essentially the same, other than the fact that everyone doesn't die in the end) where she wrote the script, acted and wrote a song called The Twelve Gays of Christmas. She sounds just about as unhinged as Penny. Considering this is her first stab at directing, she's done an admirable job. The film is sleek, there are no awkward moments (a rarity in slightly 'indie' films, one of the shots always lingers too long or we go too long without dialogue), and despite it's flamboyant moments, it remains this side of sanity (which is more than can be said for the last film I reviewed: In Memory of My Father, although this is the same mix of outrageous humour and occasional poignancy).

What's even more delicious is that the end of the world seems to have turned many of the characters philosophical. The film invites us to question how we would react when faced with the end, and it questions if what we value holds any meaning if we're all shortly going to die. There are the predictable riots and suicides, but in a way we're led to believe that a little anarchy is good for us, the breakdown of order is presented as liberating rather than as some Hobbesian nightmare (hence why it's a feel-good film and not one to slit your wrists too). And Dodge and Penny are a wonderful pairing, and it's a shame to see them incinerated with the rest of the Earth. But such is life.

Rating: 7/10