Reviews

So, I just came back from a screening of Killers of the Flower Moon, which surpassed The Irishman (175,000,000$), Scorsese's previous record for most expensive (somewhat) biographical film ever made, by twenty-five million dollars.

Mathematically, that comes down to about a million bucks a minute of actual story; this movie has a 206' runtime, including the end credits which take well over a quarter of an hour. Not only that, but I think Thelma Schoonmaker could've easily left at least twenty minutes of filler on the cutting room floor - but that was also my opinion regarding both The Irishman and Silence, so there's that. All three just felt like needlessly spun-out, and yes, pretentious attempts at 'cinematic grandstanding' that lost sight of what movies should be all about: telling a good story well.

Now, I'm not a big fan of most of those Disney/DC roller coasters either, but I think both extremes are totally, and tonally, missing that simple point.

Thing is: it's an okay movie, based on a terribly fascinating piece of harrowing history, but I just don't feel it was communicated within the right kind of gritty atmosphere; if anything, Scorsese could've created a far more gripping experience if all of it hadn't looked so polished, postured, and 'perfected'. I'm not just talking about the admittedly stunning, but overly slick cinematography, but also the squeaky-clean costumes, which mostly held their anachronistically 'off-the-rack' gloss as year upon year passed by storywise. It just felt inauthentic to me - one egregious example of this is a significant Stetson hat that DiCaprio's character is gifted at the start of the movie, which doesn't even look remotely crumpled or worn far further on in the story.

The acting by pretty much everyone is wonderful, though (especially Lily Gladstone, who positively obliterates DiCaprio), as are the soundtrack and often witty, powerful dialogues, but the overall pacing and character development, to me, felt way off - which made an already long movie feel like an even longer slog to get through (kinda like this run-on sentence). To top it all off, without spoiling too much, it all ends in a weirdly incongruent coda that felt both tacky and tacked on, concluding in a bloviating self-insert by Mister Director, which positively reeked of shameless narcissism.

That being said: I don't think this is a bad movie at all - but still. Two hundred million dollars? This should've been a full-blown masterpiece, and it's decidedly not.

As a leftist, anti-racist, feminist kind of person, I fully encourage any talented documentarian to show us an unbiased, measured overview of Ye's descent from well-liked, talented musician into crazed, uninformed, fascist lunacy - but this is not it. 'The Trouble with KanYe' features many of the issues the documentary genre has fallen prey to in the past decade or so - such as an obnoxiously narcissistic journalist in the main role, clearly orchestrated interview setups, suggestive montage tricks, and a whole lot of leading questions, with the filmmaker pushing a narrative during interviews that was not always necessarily on the table. How this empty husk of an 'exposé' got financed and distributed by the BBC - an institution I used to cherish for its quality programming in my youth - just goes to show how much of its integrity has gone down the drain.

As it happens, I watched this preposterous B-movie immediately after one of the most recent Marvel flicks, and honestly: it turned out to be far better regarding editing, soundtrack, and screenplay - not that that's necessarily saying much.

Of course, the effects aren't on nearly the same level, but at least the filmmakers knew exactly what they were going for, and communicated their intention from the get-go. Really: I enjoyed this schlocky spectacle a whole big bunch, and Alice Orr Ewing is a star to keep an eye on, as she acts the Hell out of her role - pun obviously intended.

It's been a long time since I was able to just sit back and enjoy the overt ridiculousness of the entire Biblical spiel, and for me, it wasn't even a 'guilty pleasure' or anything - just entertaining fun.

I just saw The Power of the Dog yesterday with a friend of mine at the local movie theatre, and I have to say I was somewhat disappointed. It takes far too long to build up to a rushed conclusion - something my friend agreed with, as he told me afterwards that he almost fell asleep a couple of times during the first hour or so.

Kirsten Dunst's character was, to me, severely underwritten, as most of her decisions seem unclear or unmotivated - which surprised me, as Campion is known for her great portrayals of fascinating women - as in The Piano, Bright Star, Portrait of a Lady, Holy Smoke, Bottom of the Lake, etc.

Also, Kodi Smit-McPhee played pretty much the same character, yet more nuanced, in another, far superior post-modern western, also filmed in New-Zealand as it happens: Slow West. And while the cinematography is stunning at times, it did kind of looked artificial to me at certain moments, especially compared to Slow West, which had a more convincing 'inhospitable middle of nowhere' feel to it.

I have to admit that most of the performances are indeed great, but don't necessarily agree that Benedict Cumberbatch's work here is Oscar-worthy - as a lot of critics are saying. There's really not all that much to his character that I haven't seen done better in other movies - just the usual 'crude roughneck with a hidden softness within' trope. Also, once again his American accent is not completely convincing to me, as it did tend to slip into British-sounding territory during more intense scenes.

But yes, the music by Jonny Greenwood is absolutely fantastic, which does make up for a lot atmospherically - but overall, it did drag on for a bit too long for my tastes. 6/10.

Now, I'll have to admit I'm quite smitten by Mary Elizabeth Winstead - ever since such great roles she perfectly performed in 'Smashed' and the 'Fargo' series. However, the screenplay and editing of this John Wick clone didn't do her any favours.

Mind you, it's not as if she can't handle this type of role, as she was fantastic, yet underused, as the Huntress in 'Birds of Prey', where she clearly proved she was up to the task to portray an enticing action hero, so the logic to give her a lead role in this kind of movie isn't lost on me. Too bad everything around her turned out boring and derivative.

Even Woody Harrelson, who's mostly quite reliable in even the worst kind of uninspired schlock (such as 'The Hunger Games' franchise and that godawful 'Zombieland' sequel), can't do anything worthwhile with this lousy script. Later on in the movie, he even makes this abundantly clear by referencing Gary Oldman's fantastic performance in 'Léon - The Professional' in a wholly disappointing, half-hearted manner.

I will never stop watching anything featuring Mary Elizabeth Winstead, as she's a genuinely terrific, underused thespian, but I just hope this misfire of a movie won't hurt her career.

Snyder might not think of himself as a right-wing, QANON POS, but everything he says and does implies otherwise. For instance: there is no logic to this breed of zombie, except for obvious misogyny (why send the Queen to pick up the bait immediately after the tiger) and jingoistic hierarchy - and let's not forget the numerous, boring 'macho' clichés on the 'heroes" side (how dare he misuse his own daughter's death in this petty excuse for a 'movie', even aggrandizing his non-status as 'the bravest man I know'?) This muddled, horrendously captured crap fest was truly a slog to get through - it took me three days to work my way through it - and there was hardly one original thought in an overlong, uninspired, badly acted (Ella Purnell in particular deserves a mention here) mess. And let's not forget the Sean Spicer cameo; sure, that miscreant deserves another pay check - why the Hell not, apparently. Go away, Zack Snyder. You're not helping.

As usual, Ethan Hawke gives his all as the great inventor, and the anachronistic approach and unusual visual style might not suit everyone's taste, but I especially enjoyed those aspects of the movie.

However, the passive narration by, and soulless performance of Eve Hewson sorely lacks any conviction or talent, which ruins the entire experience. In a way, I consider this quite surprising, since she's playing the daughter of Thomas Edison, an egocentric, greedy hypocrite; I'd think this role shouldn't be too hard for her, as her actual father ihas repeatedly proven himself to be a blatant fraud, who once made an empty private jet fly halfway around the world to pick up his lucky cowboy hat, all the while preaching about the environment - not to mention moving the headquarters of his band to the Netherlands to avoid paying taxes. But daddy has the money and the connections to forge a career for her.

Even without this background information, I'd still say she's the reason this movie doesn't work, and it's a pity; this could've been the masterpiece Nikola Tesla deserves, but for the time being, we'll have to wait for a truly worthy movie depicting his wondrous genius.

The life of legendary Vermeer forger Han van Meegeren is a fascinating story, but apparently Andrew Graham-Dixon thinks his ego and inept simplification of history are endlessly more interesting topics.

This is not a documentary; it's the worst kind of narcissistic, pseudo-journalistic, navel-gazing tripe, utterly ignoring a reporter's duty: to inform about a subject, truthfully, and as objectively as humanly possible.

Instead, Graham-Dixon considers himself the 'star' of this show; when he isn't constantly interrupting the few interviewees he happened upon, he's busy misinterpreting works of art to fit his sensationalist, narrow-minded, condescending confabulations. All of this meaningless drivel is chaotically intercut by azure-filtered close-ups of a second-rate actor portraying a paltry approximation of van Meegeren, which renders the entire endeavour obnoxiously campy and, considering the esthetically exquisite subject matter, unbearably tasteless.

This story deserves a thorough, competently filmed dissection, but you will not find it here. This, I'm afraid, amounts to nothing more than a fancy camera following a pompous ponce around, interwoven with some first-year film school drama, brought to you by none other than the BBC - an institution I used to love and praise in earlier days, but has managed to fail me yet again.

Well, they've messed it up again. After ruining Sherlock with their convoluted and uninspired drivel, they've also failed to bring this three-part miniseries to a satisfying finale. By now, it should be clear to everyone with half a brain that Moffat and Gatiss have no idea how to tell a story. Inane clichés, unfunny humour, and far-fetched idiotic 'twists' galore. They set up the pieces on the chessboard, and childishly knock it all off the table when they don't know where to go anymore, and the viewer is supposed to be amazed by their lackluster amateurism.

These blatant hacks need to lose their say regarding prestige projects like this, and spend their meagre talent on storylines for B-movies, where it belongs. The two stars I gave it are merely out of sympathy for the talented people who had to waste their precious time on this garbage.

There's a load of references in there, which they show over and over again; the starting point isn't smart, so repeating it incessantly isn't either. Phoenix is amazing, as are a lot of the other cast members, but they can't save a lazy, derivative, predictable screenplay from failing. Also, regarding the soundtrack, they could've used a lot of era-appropriate and psychologically fitting new wave or punk, but instead they keep on copying Bernard Herrmann (taxi driver, don'tcha know) and using the same two Sinatra songs repeatedly. And it takes waaaay too long, treating the audience like toddlers. Yeah, i get it already. 6/10, purely for the performances and cinematography. The rest of it sucks.

The whole time I spent watching this movie, all I could think was: such a shame. The script is tight, funny and packed with highly quotable dialogue, both Geena Davis and Samuel L. Jackson are giving it their all, and the production team clearly had a considerable budget to back them, but sadly it amounts to a highly anticlimactic viewing experience.

The overall pacing and switching of scenes is distracting to say the least, and director Renny Harlin seems to think he can hide his lack of talent for storytelling by staging badly-cut shootouts, chases and explosions, and meanwhile overstretching unnecessary slo-mo shots.

Alan Silvestri's score doesn't help much either, as it manages to sound invasive, clichéd and tired all at once. I mean: he even uses a trademark 'eighties soap saxophone' bit in a potentially great kitchen scene. Thank God they used some great classic songs to keep some kind of pace going, by the likes of Santana, Patti Labelle and, of course, Muddy Waters, whose 'Mannish Boy' is used as an inspired comedic red herring in the screenplay.

But those are all sidenotes. If this script had ended up in the hands of an even slightly more original director, this could've become a cult neo-noir action classic.

I hadn't seen this movie for fifteen years, and as it turns out, it still holds up. Sure, it's a highly dated eighties flick, but in a charming kind of way. James Spader and especially Robert Downey, Jr give the best performances of their early years, and the rest of the cast is so-and-so, pretty much going through the motions, but I didn't catch anyone doing a bad job.

Many people have talked about this, and it's a simple fact: this is clearly a lousy Easton Ellis adaption, with the preachy second half and all the pathos throughout, but you can enjoy the film and the novel as two separate entities. The first time I saw it, I was barely sixteen years old and had never even heard about the book, and yet I hold this movie in even higher regard now, after reading most of Easton Ellis' work. It's simply a different medium and Hollywood tends to ham things up - what can you do.

My personal favorite BEE movie remains The Rules Of Attraction, but that one completely ignored the quite essential 1980s setting. That's where Less Than Zero pretty much nails it: the locations, the clothes, and let's not forget the awesome soundtrack!

Beautifully shot (particularly the parts in Scotland), magnificently acted (especially by the two leads, but also kudos for Ms. Page and Holmes-veteran Christopher Lee) and a pretty nifty mystery make for a movie that qualifies as far more than just 'good', but I certainly wouldn't call it great. Wilder obviously applied his knack for snappy dialogue, and he brilliantly managed to merge his own particular style with the classic British Victorian tongue-in-cheek humour, so there are many chuckles to be had. It's also great to catch a glimpse of the more romantic, less calculating side of the Great Detective.

Nevertheless, it's abundantly clear that the studio brutally edited more than one hour out of the film, which makes for a good detective mystery, but it doesn't tell us anything really 'new' about Sherlock Holmes, the man and his motives, as the title implies. I would have loved to see the finished product the way Wilder intended it; he himself was appalled by the cuts, as he considered this his 'most elegant picture'. Still, it's a very good, if somewhat inconsistent, movie.

Maybe it's just because I was tired, cranky and my date cancelled (bummer), but I thought Source Code was nowhere near as good as Moon, Duncan Jones' debut. Sure, it's an interesting premise, and Jake Gyllenhaal finally proves he can stand his ground as a lead in an action feature, but it had to deal with a bit of a credibility problem. Also, as I have a bit of a 'celeb crush' on her, I think Vera Farmiga's character came across slightly underdeveloped; you just didn't get to know anything about her. But yeah, great visuals, good camera work. Not a bad sophomore effort, but it did have some big shoes to fill. I'll rewatch it in a better mood.

While I know I'll anger a lot of thriller fans, here's my two cents: this is one of the least enjoyable Hitchcock classics. To clarify: if you compare Psycho to North by Northwest, Strangers on a Train, Vertigo or Rebecca, I can't see how any self-proclaimed film fan wouldn't conclude that it falls considerably short. Even other Hitch classics I don't particularly love or hate (such as The Birds, Rear Window or Marnie) trigger a wider emotional response than the pretty simplistic shock effects which are all Psycho has to offer. Of course there's some great cinematography, but it isn't backed by any involving factors other than sheer horror, or the kind of hammy pseudo-psychology Hitchcock already tried his hand on in Spellbound.

My reasonably kind rating of seven out of ten is mostly motivated by its historical importance - even if you take into account that Peeping Tom, which I think is a far superior film with a similar theme, relentlessly flopped earlier in the same year - as it opened the mainstream public's eyes regarding the horror/thriller genre. But if you've seen Psycho once (which, in fact, any film fanatic should), to me there's no real reason to watch it again.

Whereas Audiard's two previous movies – the similarly crime-based and emotionally gripping 'Read my Lips' and 'The Beat that my Heart Skipped' – focused primarily on the protagonists' moral dilemmas, this movie offers the viewer a broader spectrum to consider. 'A Prophet' manages to successfully create a surrounding world (a bit paradoxical maybe, considering it's mainly a prison drama) thanks to some naturalistic performances by convincing supporting actors, a claustrophobic, at once realistic and magical cinematography that truly communicates the psychological consequences of incarceration, and - perhaps most of all - a powerful, masterful lead performance by newcomer Tahar Rahim.

This is truly a great movie, celebrating everything that's wonderful about cinema. Granted, although it isn't anywhere near as brilliant as Pulp Fiction or Reservoir Dogs, Inglourious Basterds hits Tarantino's recent full-blown or half misfires like Death Proof (boring dialogue, uninteresting characters) and Kill Bill (fun, but annoyingly superficial) right out of the park, and rejuvenates this once-great director's career.

No need for nitpicking about the blatant historic inaccuracies, since this is just sheer good fun - made abundantly clear by the first chapter's title, 'Once Upon a Time... in Nazi-occupied France' -, with Christoph Waltz as an inspired nazi villain, Brad Pitt's laughable Tennessee accent providing comic relief, and great, highly convincing female performances by Mélanie Laurent and Diane Kruger, rekindling memories of the leading ladies of cinema's golden age.

Furthermore, making the characters speak in their native tongues was a bold - Americans are known for disliking subtitles, especially in a 'talky' movie like this one - , but refreshing move, certainly after having to sit through 'Shakespeare-English' abominations like, for example, Valkyrie.

Combine all of this with an exciting, exceptionally smart storyline and a fantastic, at times anachronistic soundtrack (especially Bowie's 'Cat People' is put to good use), and what you've got is a highly entertaining two-and-a-half hour thrill ride.

So, in short: welcome back, QT!

Overly sentimental, anything but credible and ridiculously over-hyped, this petty excuse of a movie managed to reel in a multitude of Oscars. I have to admit I wasn't exactly bored while watching it, but a second viewing just isn't going to happen.

The storyline's a wash - to name just one inconsistency, as Salman Rushdie pointed out: from Bombay to the Taj Mahal by jumping a train? Really? -, the actors don't bring anything truly endearing or sympathetic to their characters, and the 'award-winning' music is more often a nuisance than an extra to the whole movie-going experience. Don't get me wrong: I love M.I.A., for instance, but for the biggest part it just didn't work for me.

In fact, the only virtues of this film are the often astonishing landscapes, the energetic, yet dynamic camera work and the rhythmic, punctual direction. But you simply cannot make a good movie out of those three elements - except if you wanna go all 'Koyaanisqatsi', which I love. But they didn't.

Hence: six out of ten.

P.S.: To be completely honest, I would probably rate this a seven, seven and a half tops if it weren't for the suffocating hype surrounding the film, but I feel like bringing the overall score down a notch in my own humble way, because 'Slumdog' simply doesn't deserve such a high rating. I mean: Top 250? No.

Let's just wait and see who will remember this film in three to five years' time.