Reel Review Roundup

Room 237

Directed by: Rodney Ascher

Starring: Bill Blakemore, Buffy Visick, Geoffrey Cocks

Three and a half stars

Review by: Julian Wright

Show a film to five different people and you will get five different interpretations of what it is about. Half the fun of watching films, particularly with friends, is discussing what everyone takes away from it. The imagery in some films have far deeper meanings and purpose than others – go back and re-watch the opening of Melancholia and it makes more sense the second time. Heck, Holy Motors has sparked interesting discussions over what that strange piece of cinema is all about.

Of course these debated images usually serve the story the film is telling. However, there are some people who take it just that little bit further – finding subliminal messages and codes that go above and beyond the movie itself that ordinary film goers would probably never pick up on. Such is the subject of this fascinating documentary about some theories that surround The Shining. You wont look at the story of the Overlook Hotel or its off-season inhabitants again the same after seeing this doco.

Opening our eyes to another way of looking at Stanley Kubrick’s much-loved and renowned version of Stephen King’s novel is a handful of theorists that run us through what they think are the real meanings behind such things as pieces of set design, the layout of the hotel, body language, the number of cars parked outside the hotel. You name it, these people have found a hidden meaning for it. So passionate was man’s search for alternate meanings that he ran a copy of the film forward and another in reverse for funsies, overlapping the images – cue more kooky observations about how the images line up and what it all means.

The most fascinating thing is the sincerity in which these people, who have created hotel floor plan maps based simply on what they see in the film, explain their observations. It is easy to dismiss these people as crazy folk with far too much time on their hands – especially when the film is claimed to be proof of Kubrick’s involvement in the Moon landing “hoax” but what it does is celebrate the dissection of film – something we all do, albeit not usually to this extreme.

Keeping these theorists out of sight creates a barrier between the film and the audience – although it does add to the strange conspiracy theme of it all. At times blandly presented, this hangs on the stories that come from the voice overs, which do make for amusing yarns. But even if you do tire of these silly stories (the file on the office desk looks like an erect penis?!), one can still admire the sublime shots Kubrick assembled for The Shining, which we get to revisit here over and over.

Room 237 screened as part of the 2012 Melbourne International Film Festival.

Killer Joe

Directed by: William Friedkin

Starring: Matthew McConaughey, Thomas Haden Church, Emile Hirsche, Gina Gershon,

Four stars

Review by: Julian Wright

Want to spend around two hours with some sleazy, sweaty, loathsome, morally corrupt trailer trash? Wait, that’s not really the way to get someone’s attention to go and see Killer Joe. That list of adjectives would tend to drive people away instead of drawing them in. While William Friedkin’s black comedy, based on the play of the same name, is about such a group of such people, there is more to it than that.

Granted, you will need a dark and twisted sense of humour (like me – whoops have I given too much away here?) to enjoy the black as coal laughs here as people are threatened, beaten, abused, betrayed, manipulated and violently killed. This probably won’t sound like much of a good time to some people, heck most people, but this down and dirty Texan spin on the film noir genre is a blood spattered hoot.

Desperate times call for desperate measures for one trailer park family. When Chris (Emile Hirsch), who is up to his neck in debt, gets wind of the dollar worth of his estranged mother’s life insurance, he seeks to have her bumped off. We are not talking a million dollars here, or even half of that. This brat wants to off her for a measly $50,000 – half of which will go as payment to the guy that kills her – Joe (Matthew McConaughey, in an eye-opening, slow burn performance).

Chris even recruits his lazy, half-wit father Ansel (Thomas Haden Church in fine form) and his child-like and virginal sister Dottie (Juno Temple) to set the plan into motion. Their trashy step-mother Sharla’s (Gina Gershon – who deserves a bravery award) involvement becomes more complicated as it goes along. Said plan doesn’t run as smoothly as these uneducated twits hoped, which tests Joe’s patience, although his fury is always simmering beneath the surface. However, he does take an unsettling liking to Dottie.

Actually, this doesn’t sound very funny so you will just have to see it to get it. And while the humour and violence has been alluded to in this review, what hasn’t yet is the white knuckle tension that exists the entire running time of this 102 minute film. Right from the beginning, Friedkin puts us on edge and has us relentlessly teeter there. While his abilities as a film maker to do this are already unquestionable – hello The Exorcist and Bug – he surprises us by skillfully weaving the dark humour in amongst it. Even at 77 years old, Friedkin is still unafraid to tackle the controversial. There are some splendidly confronting moments in this film that have caused quite a stir that aren’t as graphically outrageous as crucifix masturbation but will still trouble you. Anyone who can handle that is in for a treat.

Killer Joe screened as part of the 2012 Melbourne International Film Festival.

Safety Not Guaranteed

Directed by: Colin Trevorrow

Starring: Aubrey Plaza, Mark Duplass, Jake M. Johnson

Four stars

Review by: Julian Wright
Take a lead character that speaks in monotone, give them a wry sense of humour, put them in a quirky plot and you have what is another installment of what is known as an indie comedy. You know the kind, they are made on the cheap, do the film festival circuit, then are usually discovered by mainstream audiences who are tired of J. Lo or Julia Roberts romancing the latest Hollywood hunk and make it a “surprise” hit. Napoleon Dynamite and Little Miss Sunshine, anyone? Sticking close to the formula already firmly established, Safety Not Guaranteed has failed to spark with audiences at the multiplexes in the USA, but is nevertheless a little winner like the previously mentioned films.

Darius (Audrey Plaza) is hoping to score a job as a journalist at the snooty magazine where she is busting her backside interning, but it doesn’t look promising. When she is not running mindless errands for her rude boss, she is accidentally dunking her hair in the toilet bowl while re-stocking the toilet paper rolls. Not exactly a glamorous life.

When she spots an advert in the classifieds placed by a man seeking a companion to go back in time with him in his time machine, she floats the idea with her boss and is immediately charged with investigating with sleazy staff journalist Jeff (Jake M. Johnson) who is just interested is bedding a high school crush and nerdy fellow intern Arnau (Karan Soni). They track down the paranoid man, Kenneth (Mark Duplass), who placed the advert and after Jeff”s attempts to befriend him to gain information fails, Darius gives it a shot and is successful. But the more she learns about his plan, the more she likes him.

Certain elements of this self-consciously hipster comedy suggest it has fallen off of an offbeat indie production line, but it is elevated by a warm and smart script that fleshes out the four leads and gives them equally compelling arcs. Another fine move is questioning Kenneth’s sanity – is he crazy, just lonely, or has he really invented a time machine? – and yet not taking a judgmental stance. The script and Mark Duplass’ performance treats the character with respect and does not use him as a target for cheap laughs.

The film paints itself into a corner – there is one of only two possible endings here, but once you come to terms with that fact it is easy to be swept up in the climax. It is light, breezy and charming with consistent laugh out loud moments. What more could you ask of a comedy? You wont want to go back in time to spend your time differently.

Safety Not Guaranteed screened as part of the 2012 Melbourne International Film Festival.

The Intouchables (M)

Directed by: Olivier Nakachi, Eric Toledano

Starring: François Cluzet, Omar Sy

Four and a half stars

Review by: Julian Wright

Odd couple films can be an easy (read: lazy) way to get some cheap laughs. Pair a grumpy old man with a bright young fellow, or a rich person with a poor person, or someone uptight with someone easy-going. Watch them clash and cue the laughs. Usually, very little imagination is utilised to bring these familiar stories to the screen. The Intouchables, based on a true story, sticks fairly close to the worn formula, but includes something that many other do not – characters to care about and warm, genuine humour that is icing on the top of what is a delicious account of the relationship that develops between an unlikely pair.

We get a glimpse of the bond between quadriplegic Phillipe (Dustin Hoffman lookalike François Nakachi) and his carer Driss (Omar Sy) during an uproarious opening sequence in which the pair are caught speeding through Paris. We don’t know where  they are going or where they came from but the pair manage to stave off apprehension by police with claims the disabled man is having a seizure, complete with faked jolts and a beard covered in saliva. They even score an escort from the unsuspecting cops to the hospital. All the while, the two men are having the time of their lives, barely able to contain themselves from fits of the laughter.

Rewind a few months and we learn the dribbling, giggly quadriplegic wasn’t always one to have fun at the expense of the authorities. In fact, he was a stuffy man with little zest for life left. That is until Driss, recently released from prison, rocks up to the millionaire’s mansion to apply for a job as his carer with no experience or expectation of getting it. He just needs a signature to prove he is job hunting to get a government pay-out. Driss is brash but Phillipe feels the younger, rough around the edges Driss will be the perfect no-nonsense employee.

There is no questions where this is all heading as the poverty-stricken criminal Driss shows the proper Phillipe a different side to life and vice versa. They both learn from each other and their eyes are opened to things they have not seen before. But what makes this a winner and a greater crowd pleaser than, say, The Sapphires is the time and care that is given to making these two characters and their relationship more than just film fodder. The bond is stronger and the emotional connection deeper than most buddy flicks. We are also exposed to the difficulties face by a paraplegic that is not often explored – child rearing, dating and sexual pleasure are candidly tackled, giving the proceedings a needed jolt of realism.

Writer/directors Olivier Nakachi, Eric Toledano also strike that very difficult balance of allowing us to laugh with Phillipe about his restrictions and not at him. Driss often pokes fun at Phillipe, as he does himself, but it is never mean-spirited teasing – an important tone to strike, which if mishandled, would be disastrous. It is this miraculous balance established in the opening sequence and later maintained throughout that allows the audience to be swept up in their story despite some clichéd moments.

The Intouchables was screened as part of the 2012 Melbourne International Film Festival.

The Sapphires (M)

Directed by: Wayne Blair

Starring: Chris O’Dowd, Deborah Mailman, Jessica Mauboy

Three stars

Review by: Julian Wright

If there is one thing that Australian film makers often forget to do, it is to have a good time. They tend to be pre-occupied with delving into the dark side of human nature and exploring grizzly and gruelling themes. Not that there is anything wrong with that. The Australian film industry has produced some quality, if not exactly enjoyable, pieces of work looking into doom and gloom. Mysterious prostitute themed Sleeping Beauty mesmerised, Here I Am and Toomelah looked at the struggles Indigenous people face, and Snowtown was an urban nightmare of unpleasantness but an example of skilled film making. Even violent, heavy, crime drama Animal Kingdom received international acclaim.

It has been a while since us Aussies have had a chance to take a breather at the cinema and enjoy ourselves. No wonder the adorable crowd pleasing pooch film Red Dog was a box office hit. Were audiences craving something like that?  Maybe we just needed a bit of a break from the bleak. Enter The Sapphires. Arriving amidst Cannes Film Festival buzz, this breezy, easy to digest comedy might just be what some audiences need.

In 1968, three Aboriginal women Gail (Deborah Mailman), Julie (Jessica Mauboy) and Kay (Miranda Tapsell) living in an outback town, and whose musical talent is abundantly apparent, are busting their backsides playing at run down pubs to a handful audience of dismissive, racist locals. Life is already a struggle for this demographic in that day and age but they are constantly reminded that their dreams of making it big as singers are  just those: dreams. They bump into drunken, oafish talent competition emcee Dave (Chris O’Dowd) who helps them get a $30 a week gig performing for the troops in Vietnam. They recruit their cousin Cynthia Kay (Shari Sebbens) to make a quartet, swap country tunes  for soul music, label themselves  The Sapphires and away they go.

But the group’s struggles are not confined to Australian shores, as Gail finds it hard to adopt an image within the musical group, Kay’s engagement hangs in the balance, fair-skinned Cynthia has troubled with her identity and Julie misses the child she had to leave behind. While the group members battle their own demons as they find themselves in the centre of a war zone, they must put on their game faces and keep the troops entertained.

Recent film festival buzz about this film would lead one to believe that it is a special little package. As pleasant, infectious and often times amusing as it is, it does not rank as one of our best. As there is nothing wrong with dabbling in dark themes, there is nothing wrong with a bit of cinematic fluff if done correctly. The problem with The Sapphires is that it has the chance to juggle some serious, dramatic elements with light-hearted humour but seems to not be able to grasp either. The issues the women deal with are skimmed over to make way for some bubbly tunes, but on the flip side, only O’Dowd is able to shine above a watchable cast with his comic timing.

The Sapphires the film may be the light alternative entertainment amongst a slew of gut punch Aussie dramas, much like The Sapphires the group served as relief from the horrors of war for the troops, and audiences will likely lap it up, but it wont linger in the memory after the final song is sung.

Step Up: Miami Heat (PG)

Directed by: Scott Speer

Starring: Ryan Guzman, Kathryn McCormick, Peter Gallagher

Two stars

Review by: Julian Wright

The vacuous nature of the Step Up franchise – or any other dance film for that matter – is often excused because, lets face it, no one goes to see these movies for clever scripting, powerhouse performances or imaginative direction. The core audience just wants to see some hot bodies get down and shake their booties on the dance floor. But it is becoming increasingly harder with each release to let these laboriously clichéd films slide based on their energetic choreography. OK, maybe audiences aren’t expecting Oscar-worthy film making, but can they not at least be privileged an interesting story and dialogue that doesn’t make you choke on your popcorn with bouts of the giggles? According to Step Up: Miami Heat (or Step Up Revolution, depending on what country you see it in), no.

Without even bothering to link this part four to the Step Ups gone by (except for a few token cameos at the end – sorry, ladies, Channing Tatum was too busy getting his kit off in Magic Mike), we get right into the action with a flash mob called The Mob (oh yeah, Step Up 4 is all about originality) closing down a busy Miami road for a spot of dance art. This miraculously doesn’t bother any of the dozens of motorists whose trips have been stalled  – even when these delinquently behaved twenty-somethings start using their vehicles as dance floors.

Mob leader Sean (Ryan Guzman) is keen to lead his crew to wining an internet competition – the dance group with the most hits on their videos wins. So they go about disrupting art exhibitions, restaurants and office buildings in their journey to victory. While these are arresting sequences of colour and provocative moves that take the dancing to a level not previously seen in other similar films, the elaborate nature borders on the ridiculous.

Side stepping minor details like where the crew get the money for the costumes or time to rehearse and how they manage to avoid the authorities every single time, the story gets right into the central drama that drives the, erm, plot. Big bad business man Mr Anderson (Peter Gallagher) wants to tear down an old, established neighborhood, where members of The Mob live, in order to erect a multimillion dollar hotel. What Global Financial Crisis? The only way to stop this development from happening is to (I’m not even kidding) protest dance. Now, why didn’t the residents featured in the documentary Battle for Brooklyn think of that?

Wouldn’t you know it, Sean gets cosy with sweetie pie Emily (Kathryn McCormack) who has just moved to town to pursue her dream of being a professional dancer. But, oh no you guys, she is Mr Anderson’s daughter. Conflicts of interest can be so hard. What are they gonna do?!

This film includes all the pre-requisites for this sub genre and it is sure to be a money-maker like all the others. The elaborate choreography, the barely there plot that vaguely links the dance numbers together and the attractive cast, whose posters will more than likely end up on some teens walls. But getting through these elements is becoming a chore. Do we really have to suffer through so much mush to be able to enjoy the dancing? If there is another installment in this franchise, hopefully the film makers decide to step up the content.

Magic Mike (MA)

Directed by: Steven Soderbergh

Starring: Channing Tatum, Matthew McConaughey, Alex Pettyfer, Cody Horn, Olivia Munn

Three and a half stars

Review by: Julian Wright

For each drug trafficking, broke single mum and deadly plague story, Steven Soderbergh always finds time to alleviate the dank and depressing streak. He put the sizzle into Out of Sight and, to some, his popular Ocean’s films are held up as the epitome of cool. It would seem only Soderbergh could find the fun in stripping. Soderbergh strips away the sleazy, seedy and disease ridden exploits of other similarly themed films (*cough* Showgirls) as quickly as his lead actors tear away their gear to ensure his audience has as good a time as the squealing women who are cheering on the naked men.

Nineteen-year-old slacker Adam (Alex Pettyfer) bunks at his sister Brooke’s (Cody Horn) house in Tampa, Florida, sleeping on her couch and with no real direction in life. He gets a job on a construction site, alongside Mike (Channing Tatum) but it lasts only for a day. He bumps into Mike outside a swanky night club, who gets him inside despite his disheveled look. But then Mike calls on Adam to return the favour – fill in for one of the members of his male strip crew when they can’t perform.

The inexperienced fellow is a hit with the ladies and is invited to come back. Manager Dallas (Matthew McConaughey) takes him under his wing and trains him up to be part of the team. Adam rides the high of being the object of women’s desires each night but soon realises this glamorous lifestyle is not what he initially thought. His overprotective sister is suspicious of his new friends and colleagues and resists Mike’s advances.

It is hard not to get swept up in the smashingly fun and infectious first half (warning: there is a lot of crotch grabbing and pelvic thrusting) which will have most people giggling and gasping at its cheeky (in more ways than one) attitude. The tone is set straight away that this is meant to be fun, and Soderbergh and writer Reid Carolin, thankfully, don’t take the material too seriously. Where it stumbles is around the middle mark where it puts the stripping on the back burner and tries to flesh out the relationships. That isn’t a problem in itself, it is just that the film makers forgot to gives us compelling characters to root for. There are long stretches of dialogue scenes and in the end it still feels like not much has been achieved.

The cast is mostly engaging – Tatum has never looked more relaxed on-screen than he does when he is strutting his stuff and getting the chance to play up his natural charm. His on-screen appeal is not matched by Horn who flits between stern stares and sickening high school girl giggles. McConaughey oozes sex cockiness and threatens to steal each scene he appears in. The other members of the strip group are mostly banished to the shadows. Once the clothes have come off, the fun dies down but the fierce gyrating routines will have you flashing your cash.

My Brothers

Directed by: Paul Fraser

Starring: Timmy Creed, Paul Courtney, T.J. Griffin

Three and a half stars

Review by: Julian Wright

Road trip films have been done to death, right? Get a bunch of folk in a car and chart their zany adventures, or misadventures, for 90 minutes and hey presto. It is an easy set-up. And they are usually populated with dopey teenagers. It is the kind of screenplay that a monkey could write in its sleep by this point. But putting a fresh twist on and injecting some substance into the worn out sub-genre, writer Will Collins and director Paul Fraser place three brothers of different ages facing the death of their bedridden father in a clapped out van, which results in some of the most heartwarming moments in recent film.

With their Dad’s health deteriorating, brothers Noel (Timmy Creed), Paudie (Paul Courtney) and Scwally (T.J. Griffin) are dealing, or not dealing, with his impending death. Their Dad is slipping away and Noel fears his memories will fade too – particularly for his younger brothers who seem to go about their daily business without a thought for their sick parent. The only way the lonely, awkward teenager knows how to deal with his plight is to keep a diary.

While Noel helps his mum make ends meet by doing early morning bread runs to local delis, Paudie seems more interested in pull my finger gags and Scwally can’t take his attention away from his toy light sabre – even though he has never seen Star Wars. As if being a teenager isn’t hard enough, Noel seems to have extra weight on his shoulders. He takes his father’s watch, which is later smashed in an altercation with a school bully. He decides to borrow his rust bucket work van and drive across rural Ireland to the seaside town where the watch came from to replace it with another one. But his brothers tag along.

At first it doesn’t seem like much of a bonding exercise as the boys spend more time arguing than anything else, but as the journey continues it becomes clear that it will be one that brings them closer together. But don’t let my description lead you to believe this will be one of those sappy road trips that will have you reaching for the “off” button rather than the tissues. There is heart to this slight and sweet, but not overly sentimental film that will win you over solely by the charm of the three leads.  There are also some laugh out loud exchanges – heightened by the cute Irish accents – in and outside of the van.

At times the pace feels sluggish and it doesn’t always feel like the story is being propelled forward with any particular purpose. An unusual element is the introduction of the threat of a pedophile, which seems to come from another film entirely, and later becomes apparent that it exist as a red herring. But the trip is worth the pit stops. Having been made in 2010, My Brothers has taken its time to make its way to our shores (although, admittedly, nowhere near as long as the recently released Margaret) but it has been worth the wait for this little gem.

My Brothers will screen as part of the Perth Revelation International Film Festival on July 14 and 15.

The Whisperer In Darkness

Directed by: Sean Branney

Starring: Matt Foyer, Barry Lynch, Autumn Wendel

Three stars

Review by: Julian Wright

We like to honour films of years gone by, don’t we? Not that there is anything wrong with that. Quentin Tarantino and Robert Rodriguez recaptured the grotty charm of those nasty 1970s grindhouse films with the Grindhouse double feature (complete with negative scratches and missing reels) and Oscar rivals Hugo and The Artist reminded us of the magical origins of film and the beauty of silent films respectively. It seem the timing was perfect for this faithful adaptation of H.P. Lovecraft’s 1931 tale that also serves as a love letter to 1930s creature features.

Crab creatures, bottled brains and an alien invasion. And all in glorious black and white. What a hoot! Reportedly eight years in the making, uber fans from the H.P. Lovecraft Historical Society have captured the campy fun of the era, but that is where there film making skills end. This looks and sounds like a heap of fun, but without a grasp on pacing, it doesn’t always translate to a modern audience.

Folklore professor Albert Wilmarth (Matt Foyer) dismisses several letters from a gentleman living in the Vermont mountains claiming there are alien creatures roaming the remote land, until the letter writer sends his son to make contact. Confronted with photographic proof of the existence of these seemingly dangerous beings (well sort of – pics of footprints and a strange arrangement of huge boulders), Albert makes his way out to the farm to investigate.

His rain-soaked travels evoke a sense of dread as he crosses paths with some odd folk along his way out to the middle of nowhere. Albert is still cynical of the existence of aliens but clearly on edge by the trip. Once he is there, he makes some mind shattering discoveries.

There are plenty of chuckles to have along the way, particularly with the enthusiastic performances of the cast who give it 100 per cent and the references to the cheesy elements of the genre at that time. But with an almost unbearably slow pace, those with short attention spans may find themselves nodding off long before the final third reveals. With a tighter grasp on timing, this could have been a much punchier and memorable homage. Or maybe I am just not familiar enough with Lovecraft’s work to be fully immersed in this love letter exercise.

The Whisperer In Darkness screens as part of Revelation Perth Film Festival on July 12.

Those Who Kill: Shadow Of The Past

Directed by: Birger Larsen

Starring: Jakob Cedergren, Laura Bach, Simon Kvamm

Two and a half stars

Review by: Julian Wright

Take the number of recent television cop shows, calculate how many seasons each one has aired for and take into account how many episodes per season. That’s a lot of detective work and police sleuthing. Any film that takes on the overly familiar police procedural storyline would have to come up with something pretty special to stand out from any given weeknight’s TV programming.

Despite being a follow on from a television series with the same name (think what they did with The X-Files series and films), the difference between this cinematic effort and Law and Order, CSI, NCIS (the list goes on) is the foreign language. Reading subtitles while watching a cop and a psychiatrist solve grizzly murders is the only novel value in this retread of familiar cop show clichés. In fact, shave a few time-consuming clichés from this film and it could easily slip into an hour time slot during prime time.

Just after he hands in his resignation to leave the Copenhagen police force, legal psychiatrist Thomas Schaeffer (Jakob Cedergren) is put on his last case with his partner detective Katrine Ries Jensen (Laura Bach) in which a man has shot and killed the driver and several passengers of a public bus. Thomas begins to recognise the criminal behaviour – the crime scene resembles the graphic sketch of a disturbed former patient Kristian (Simon Kvamm) who was recently released from a ridiculously short prison term for throwing a young woman off a bridge and killing her. But there are more sketches and the killings will continue unless he is stopped.

It becomes a case of count the clichés as something more romantic between Thomas and Katrine is alluded to, Thomas’ pregnant wife and young son are targeted by the deranged killer and the suggestion that the final case will be the toughest yet. Perhaps there is something lost on audiences that did not manage to catch the 10-part 2010 series this film wraps up. It assumes we have already made a connection to these characters, played by an admittedly appealing cast, and continues to storm ahead with a plot that leaves character development in its dust. The killer is a particularly nasty one with murder scenes that rival those stomach churning ones from Se7en, but precious little time is spent expanding upon this one-dimensional villain.

The scriptwriters shoehorn a couple of neat twists into the final moments that liven up the climax, but getting to this point via a slew of familiar elements is a slog despite the zippy pace and moments of tension breaking humour. It might be suited better to a night in front of the idiot box, but as a cinematic experience, it is lacking.

Those Who Kill: Shadow Of The Past screens as part of  Revelation Perth International Film Festival on July 14.