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

In Memory of My Father

In Memory of My Father serves as the perfect reminder that we should be careful when picking up random films from second hand DVD stores. From the case, the movie looked slightly unhinged, but upon viewing it, it transpired that it had somehow escaped from the lunatic asylum. But by the end, I was deeply in love with it. For a variety of reasons.

All of the following characters are clinically insane

The premise is truly bizarre. A holiday legend (David Austin) has died (Austin excels at being dead). To record this momentous event for posterity, he has bribed his son (Christopher Jaymes, apparently playing himself. If he is, he is a seriously messed up person!) to record his after-death-party. This sets the scene for the bizarre mix of inappropriate/surreal humour and fairly sincere portraits of a variety of relationships breaking down that follow.

It's not a good start. Pat (Pat Healey), one of Chris's equally dreadful siblings, straddles the corpse of his father in order to get a good shot of his face. Dialogue is squeezed in-between frequent uses of the F-word (there does come a point when swearing is overdone) and there is little humour, just strangeness.

But as you acclimatize to the strange ideas of the film it becomes a delight. Chris has seduced a teenage girl, and has to face teasing from his family and friends (legitimately) and his more appropriately longing for Nicole (Nicholle Tom, valiantly performing the duty of crying a lot near the end). Pat is obsessed with his ex (who he only dated for two months), and clearly has anger management issues with the amount of shouting he does. Jeremy (Jeremy Sisto) is dealing with the shocking revelation that his wife is possibly homosexual, and he does this by taking Ecstasy and stumbling around the party with a New Age mystic in dressing gowns. Matt (Matt Keesler) is suffering from OCD (who doesn't fold their socks and underwear???) and is sleeping with his step-mother. After all this, the comment from a character that "no one in this family is capable of a normal relationship" is actually quite founded.

You will either love or hate this film, there's no inbetween. The soundtrack is just as deranged as the rest of the film, created by Belle and Sebastien (one of the songs seems to be about a child being bullied at school). You will get confused by the twisted family relationships (one of them proclaims that his step-mother is also his aunt). There is a strange lack of structure as we flip between the multitude of ill-fated siblings (which gets stranger as we go on, one scene just comprises of Matt telling his step-mother that "your bra matches your eyes"). There are some fantastically surreal scenes, one of my favourites is when Jeremy contemplates jumping into the pool in his dressing gown.

So in the end, I enjoyed my brief trip in to the mind of Christopher Jaymes (writer, director and actor). But I don't think I could stay there much longer without also losing my grip on reality and starting to rock and weep.

Rating: 7/10

Skyfall

Here's a bombshell to start with: Skyfall was my first James Bond film. How, you ask, have you managed to avoid this flagship of British cinema? Well, from what I'd heard of Bond before I saw this film, it's formulaic, sexist, plotless and heartless. Has my opinion changed? Well, maybe....

Bond has fallen over.

Firstly, lets talk about what's good about it. The acting on most counts is superb, although Daniel Craig is completely overshadowed by Judi Dench. As M she is perfect as a woman at the end of the line, trying to maintain solidarity while being forced to confront past mistakes ("regret is unprofessional"). Silva (Javier Bardem) is a credible villain, who I think benefits from his lack of ridiculous scheme to take over the world (his modest ambition is to kill M and annoy MI6). And, I must say, Ben Wishaw is wonderful. I admit that I am biased (ever since The Hour I have been conducting a long distance love affair with him, he just doesn't know about it), but the look on his face when he realises Silva's hacked MI6 is priceless.

Plus, Adele's theme song is simply divine. It's oozing with class and the sense of an ending. I'm not sure if the slightly surreal montage or graveyards, blood and women complement it or push it over the edge into absurdity.

A general theme of the film is that Bond's getting old. He can't shoot straight anymore, he's dependant on alcohol and apparently also on drugs (Viagra probably, considering how many women he somehow manages to seduce). Which is a little ironic, as the Bond franchise is also getting old. There are features of this film that are now looking distinctly archaic. For starters, why the gratuitous sex scenes? Do we have to have "Bond girls"? And some of the action feels tired, it's all very pretty but there's nothing truly outstanding. Plus, the attempt to humanise Bond (we get to meet his gamekeeper) isn't exactly convincing. Much of the dialogue feels unnatural, despite the splendid acting talent.

Personally, I believe the hype about Skyfall is unfounded. True, it has the weight of history behind it, but that serves to crush it rather than assist it. Not many things can last 50 years without becoming a parody of themselves and running out of original ideas. Sadly, Bond is no exception.

Rating: 4/10

Argo

Believe it or not, this is based on a true story. It's 1980, and the USA is in a spot of bother. The American embassy in Iran has been stormed, and hostages taken. Six escaped and are hiding in the Canadian ambassador's house. The only trouble is how to get them out of Iran, who are now publicly executing Americans. The solution? A fake sci-fi film called Argo.

Ben Affleck practices his look of deep concern.

The film is a triumph, from the off we fear for the six Americans stranded in a country that's baying for their blood. The tension builds at an almost unbearable rate until the nail-biting climax. Plus, surprisingly, it's fairly balanced. Iran doesn't come out of it particularly well, but neither does the USA. The reason why the Iranians are so upset (which, predictably, involves oil) is neatly presented in the opening sequence. But in the end the political backdrop is overshadowed by one man's ingenuity.

Ben Affleck is Tony Mendez (and director as well, strangely enough). Disheartened by the incompetency of the CIA (their idea about getting the six to cycle to the Turkish border is utterly ludicrous), Mendez comes up with a better idea. With the help of John Chambers (John Goodman) and Lester Siegel (Alan Arkin), he creates a fake movie to act as a cover story to smuggle our trapped band out of Iran.

Siegel and Chambers get all the best lines ("If I'm going to make a fake movie, it's going to be a fake hit"). Affleck comfortably inhabits the role of our mild mannered hero, and has mastered the look of deep concern. Affleck also does a decent job of directing, it never feels overblown but still grips us with an iron grasp.

In the end you've got everything. The bureaucracy, general inadequacy and also heartlessness of the CIA (there's a particular telling moment when an official remarks "six Canadians shot is a global outrage, six Americans killed while playing at being in the movies is a national humiliation"). The shallowness of Hollywood. The insanity of fundamentalism. But also the triumph of human ingenuity against all the odds.

All in all, it's a hidden gem. It's still on at the cinema now. Forget Skyfall, go and see this!

Rating: 6/10

Shallow Grave

With Danny Boyle films. it's hard to know what to expect. We have the flamboyant, colourful and feel-good Slumdog Millionaire followed by a film about a man cutting his own arm off (27 Hours). With Shallow Grave, it smacks of gritty British drama from the start, but thankfully amidst all the mutilating of bodies and killing each other is our nation's characteristic tongue-in-cheek approach to....well, everything. So after being fairly swept up in the pyschodrama of it all, I found the climax unbelievably hilarious.

"It's not about the money, money, money." Well...it sort of is.

We're on the streets of Edinburgh and Ewan McGregor (the evil priest from Angels and Demons), Christopher Eccleston (various BBC stuff) and Kerry Fox (never heard of her) have a new charismatic flat mate. He then proceeds to overdose, leaving a bit suitcase full of money behind. At this point, most sensible people would stop to think that perhaps people with suitcases of money aren't the most reputable of people and may have some nasty people after them. But not for our merry band, who decide the best course of action is to horribly mutilate the body and make off with the money.

Can the happy trio remains friends as they bludgeon their way to unimaginable riches? Will the team be got by the nasty men who shut people in fridges? What crazy things will Eccleston get up to once he goes mad and hides in he attic (he's very good at being mad)? Will our heroes eventually be brought to justice by a pedantic detective and his sycophantic sidekick? As you can see, it's very silly stuff, despite the constant menacing theme music.

The acting is superb, although Kerry Fox lets the side down a little compared to McGregor and Eccleston. The moral of the story seems to be that murdering people is bound to lead to some fallings out. Is there a serious message about friendship? "If you can't trust you're friends, well, what then?" ponders Eccleston philosophically. You do get the feeling that Eccleston is the only one here taking this at all seriously.

Rating: 7/10

The Perks of Being a Wallflower

After having a brief but intensely passionate love affair with Chbosky's book, I wasn't expecting much from this film adaptation. From the trailer, Logan Lorman looked like a distinctly boring Charlie who would ruin the subtleties of the protagonist's character, and Emma Watson (last seen as Hermione Granger, a witch) and Ezra Miller (last seen as Kevin, a psychopath) seemed to make an alarmingly odd couple as the benevolent seniors Sam and Patrick. However, my heart lifted when I realised that Chbosky himself had written the screenplay, and I needn't have worried about the acting talent.



The psycopath, the witch and the wallflower.

In the book, the way we are introduced to Charlie is through a letter he wrote to an unknown girl who he assumed would be sympathetic to his life's struggles. What this put-upon girl must have thought when she began receiving endless letters from an unknown source is interesting to consider, but Chbosky used this to instantly win over the reader to Charlie's unique way of thinking. It takes longer to establish that relationship with Charlie in the film, which feels slightly less intimate than the epistolary novel. But Lorman plays Charlie's slow descent into depression brilliantly, and has enough charm to keep the audience rooting for him throughout the film.

Meanwhile, Watson captures the hollowness behind Sam's glamour perfectly, while Miller does the same for the misery behind Patrick's seemingly endless chirpiness ("below average!" he squeals as he receives a C minus). The fact that Chbosky's wonderful dialogue is intact for the most part is one of the key attractions to this film, and it seems he has made notable improvements to his original story, particularly the heartbreaking scenes with the psychiatrist near the end.

This film will be picked on, much like the books, for its two central quotes. "In that moment, we were infinite" and "we accept the love we think we deserve" are practically gushing with sentimentality. But somehow they work in this film, and there's many less overblown lines to compliment them.

At this point I think it is appropriate to swallow my dignity and admit to nearly crying at the end. But then there's this wonderful euphoric moment where Charlie comes out the end of a dark tunnel (metaphorically and literally). And I think this will succeed in giving people hope that one day they too will come out of the dark tunnel that is adolescence. And while I watched that scene, in that moment, I was infinite (not really).

When I was leaving the cinema I was utterly shell shocked, and speechless as I stumbled back to the multi-story car park. And I think this is the sign of a truly good film, one that really takes your breath away (and makes you look like an idiot in car parks). I will be watching it again.

Rating: 10/10

A Room With A View

If you're looking for some period fluff with little lasting emotional impact but with pretty scenery and nice dresses, Merchant Ivory seems a good place to go. In fact the only reason I watched this film was because my mother is fascinated with them shooting the scenes based on Monet's paintings. But putting this aside, I shall attempt to give an objective review.

Proudly sporting the title of Best Picture of 1986. Obviously there wasn't much else on in 1986.

Helena Bonham Carter (Dark Shadows, Harry Potter, Frankenstein) stars as Lucy, the privileged girl who somehow finds her way to Florence with her immensely annoying chaperon Charlotte (Maggie Smith), who her entire family seem to hate. I was dismayed by the quality of Bonham Carter's acting, I'm usually in love with the woman, but as this was one of her earliest roles the only facial expression she can muster is petulance. Meanwhile Maggie Smith gives a typical Maggie Smith performance, making you want to strangle her, but in a good way.

Whilst in Florence, Lucy meets George Emerson (Julian Sands), who offers her a room with a view (which is, of course, highly symbolic of...something). It quickly becomes apparent that George is slightly mad, but this doesn't stop Lucy falling for him after they encounter some aggressive Italians (are the two events connected?).

The rest is hugely predictable, and the whole thing feels like its been done a thousand time before. But the oddball characters save it from mediocrity. My personal favourite is Simon Callow as Mr Beeb, the softly spoken vicar. His expression of horror when he learns Lucy is marrying Cecil (who is the author of one of the most unromantic kisses in the history of cinema) is simply divine. Even better than this is when Mr Callow throws of his vicarly habiliments to go skinny dipping in a pond, only to be discovered by Lucy and her companions. George, also naked, does a nude star jump in front of poor Lucy and then runs of into a bush. The whole film is worth watching simply for this scene!

Rating: 3/10

The Road

Clearly the winner for one of the most utterly miserable films of all time, The Road is bleak from the start. Everything is grey and dreary as an unnamed man (Viggo Mortensen) teaches his son (Kody Smit-McPhee) how to end it all when it the world gets too much. The boy's terrible mother merrily wandered off into the dark to die without a second thought her son, who she wants to kill anyway. In short, this film isn't a barrel of laughs.

Just like your traditional road movie, but with cannibals.

Based on Cormac McCarthy's book of the same name, one wonders what drove him to write something quite as bleak as this. But instead of wallowing in the misery of it all, there are some important issues raised. When survival is this difficult, what's the drive to carry on living? The answer seems to be to protect the ones we love, but even this doesn't seem sufficient, the two protagonists need to dream up some abstract fantasy about The Coast to keep plodding on.

We can see McCarthy's view of humanity isn't exactly complimentary, humans have either topped themselves, reverted to cannibalism or are refugees which see death as a luxury. Even the heroes of the piece are not shining examples of morality. The unnamed man happily declares that "we're the good guys" as he murders two people, leaves an old man to die instead of letting him share their food and leaves another helpless and naked. Is this what carrying the fire of humanity's about? One wonders about the pyschological impact on the child.

My main criticism of this film is that a lot of people die and we're not encouraged to care about them. We're casually given fleeting glimpses of atrocities (mainly involving hungry cannibals) and the message this seems to be sending is that in the end nobody really matters (hence why no one's allowed a name). So as the viewer trudges through the sludge of human nastiness he/she will remain dry eyed until the final scenes.

In fact the most touching element of the film is the father's love for his son. "If he isn't the voice of God, then God never spoke," growls our hero. Despite his brutal treatment of others and his poor personal hygiene, you will eventually be won over by our gruff protagonist and his utterly devoted son.

Rating:6/10

The Life Before Her Eyes

This is a little gem, fairly understated but brilliantly done. The film centres on the life of Diana, frequently jumping from her wayward teenage years (a feisty Evan Rachel Wood) to 15 years later (now a thoroughly miserable Uma Thurman). As Uma Thurman's Diana spends much of her time moping and looking pensive, it's down to Evan Rachel Wood to win the audience over and make us care about the character.

The two Dianas

The premise is that something terrible happened as Diana's high school that turned the rebellious teen in to a melancholy adult. It transpires that Diana's attempt to save her own skin resulted in the death of Maureen (Eva Amurri Martino), her best friend and committed Christian. Diana's guilt is emphasised by the hollowness of the life Diana has made for herself (advertising for the film describes it as "idyllic", it isn't).

Subtlety is key in this film. There are motifs of flowers (especially crushed ones) and water, and it touches on issues such as abortion, motherhood, love, shaping our future selves and morality in general. There are some recurring lines which strike a chord, the most notable being Diana's science teacher's insistence that "the heart is the strongest muscle" (which leads the ever emotional teenage Diana to wail that hers isn't). The two plot strands are cleverly juxtaposed, and although initially we accept this as just rather arty we realise something is wrong when the two worlds begin colliding. This feeling of unease leads us into a truly unexpected and emotional climax.

So don't expect any major fireworks from this movie, but in its own underplayed way, it will deliver.

Rating: 8/10

The Number 23

Once again Jim Carrey plays a fairly serious role to brilliant effect as the loner who reads a book which convinces him the number 23 is after him. Indeed it seems Carrey's stock characters are completely zany (The Truman Show, The Mask) or lonely and pathetic (The Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind). But this time rather than simply being a bit upset about his girlfriend leaving him, he is trying to avoid murdering his wife.

The opening title sequence immediately convinces you that the 23s are after you, and it is clear that the makers of this film have done their research. But after this the rest of the film feels a bit of a letdown, and you end up wishing the plot was as cleverly constructed as the centeral numerological creepiness.

This is not saying that this is a bad film. It isn't. Carrey plays his slow 23-related breakdown perfectly, and is hilarious as his fictional counterpoint DI Fingerling (although I'm not sure he's meant to be). Some moments are genuinely terrifying, and the general premise is brilliant. But the film's problem is that whatever fantastic plot it comes up with, it's never going to be as interesting as all this business with the 23s, so inevitably becomes sidelined. Plus it lacks the emotional impact of Carrey's other 'serious' film Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, opting for creepiness rather than pathos.

So on the whole it's a decent little thriller, but the main reason for watching is a scary number rather than an intricate plot.

Rating: 5/10