Film Review

Baby Driver – A Review

Directed by Edgar Wright. Starring Ansel Elgort, Lily James, Kevin Spacey, Jon Hamm, Eiza Gonzalez, Jamie Foxx, Jon Bernthal. Running time: 113 minutes.

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For some reason, until I watched the trailer for this movie, I had pictured an animated film when hearing its name. Perhaps this was because I subconsciously enjoyed the idea of a whimsical cartoon film about an infant chauffeur, or (more likely) I was just mixing it up with The Boss Baby.

Baby Driver certainly isn’t a film for children, but it is tremendous fun in spots. Its main selling point is its soundtrack; music, almost always diegetic, is a near-constant feature of the movie. This is because the titular Baby (Elgort), a reserved, slightly awkward yet often charming protagonist, suffers from severe tinnitus, and employs the eclectic mix of music on his many iPods to drown it out.

A high octane opening sequence, accompanied by the funky strains of  Jon Spencer Blues Explosion, sets the pace. A bank is robbed; Baby is the (impossibly skilled) getaway driver. We learn that the necessity for his criminal lifestyle lies in a debt owed to Doc (Spacey), a criminal mastermind with unclear motivations and an odd sense of humour. Foxx, Hamm, Gonzalez and Bernthal are the supporting gangsters, each blessed with a different degree and variety of psychopathy. After the first robbery, we are told that “one last job” will sever Baby’s ties to the shady outfit; there are no prizes for guessing that it doesn’t all transpire quite so straightforwardly as that. Debora (Lily James) complicates matters in the way only a love interest can.

Music is more than the glue that holds this film together; it forms the structure of a healthy percentage of it. There is a deliberate, magnetic rhythm to much of the action, and Elgort’s movements mirror beats to hypnotic effect on more than one occasion. Even the dialogue has a musicality to it; Doc merrily referring to Baby’s tinnitus as “a hum in the drum” is but one example.

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This all lends Baby Driver a watchability it would otherwise have struggled to achieve. The storyline, promising at first, gives way to uncertainty about halfway through, and the final act stumbles from contrivance to convolution, with a closing set piece that manages to bore despite its generous helping of bodily harm and explosions.

Unfortunately, the characters are similarly limited. Debora is little more than a plot device with a cutesy Southern accent, and Kevin Spacey’s acting talents are largely kept under wraps. Other than Elgort, whose portrayal of Baby is nuanced enough to keep us interested, the only thespian given a great deal to do is Jon Hamm, who also acquits himself well. Jamie Foxx’s garrulous Bats shows promise, but is lamentably overcooked.

Ultimately, then, what are we left with? This is undoubtedly a film with an array of flaws. None of them, however, manage to fully outweigh the raw energy and atmosphere of fun that oozes out of Baby Driver from the first scene. Enjoy it for what it is.


Film Review

The Breakfast Club (1985) – A Review

Directed by John Hughes. Starring Judd Nelson, Molly Ringwald, Emilio Estevez, Ally Sheehy, Anthony Michael Hall, Paul Gleason. Running Time: 97 minutes.

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Confining extended sequences of films to a single room or setting has produced many memorable pieces of cinema. Hughes embraces this type of minimalism fully with The Breakfast Club; a mere 13 actors are credited in total. The resulting focus is not used for the same thrillseeking ends as, say, Phonebooth, but the technique serves the film undoubtedly well.

Hughes allows the majority of his story to unfold in the large classroom in which the film’s young protagonists are confined for a Saturday of detention. John Bender (Nelson), a prickly, weed-smoking anarchist, quickly becomes the focal point for the group’s interactions, as the lack of stimulation in their surroundings forces them to get to know each other. What unfolds is an intriguing examination of five typical, yet starkly different youths. Andrew (Estevez) is the conservative jock, Clare (Ringwald) the spoilt princess, Allison (Sheehy) the taciturn oddball and Brian (Hall) the socially awkward high achiever. Stereotypical the roles may be, but each character has a magnetic believability. Possibly this film’s greatest triumph is that its main players are as relevant today as they were three decades ago.

Some realism may be sacrificed in favour of engaging dialogue; it is slightly difficult to believe that five teenagers, having just met, would engage each other with the level of emotional candour on display here. Nonetheless, it works spectacularly.

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Relations are edgy at first; John’s irreverence sets him up as something of an outcast, and Allison barely features for much of the film’s opening half. When formed, however, the group dynamic is sublime; often funny and profoundly thought-provoking on a few occasions. The politics of young adulthood are illustrated unflinchingly, and the challenges they pose for young people are handled with arresting sincerity. Paul Gleason’s despotic principal, involved on an intermittent basis, is the primary source of their unity; whatever contempt they may hold for each other’s character flaws is overshadowed by their mutual disdain for authority.

Although John is given the role of loquacious philosopher to an extent, it is Andrew who tells us: “We’re all bizarre; some of us are just better at hiding it.” This expression of acceptance is fundamental to the film’s warm intentions. The iconic Don’t You Forget About Me by Simple Minds is the icing on the cake.



Film Review

Baywatch – A Review

Directed by Seth Gordon. Starring Dwayne Johnson, Zac Efron, Priyanka Chopra, Alexandra Daddario, Kelly Rohrbach, Jon Bass, Ilfenesh Hadera. Running time 116 minutes. Rated 16.

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Before starting this review, I decided to ask Google whether or not the Razzies (Golden Raspberry Awards, presented to the worst performances in film each year) have a category called ‘Most Unashamedly Unoriginal Movie.’ It turns out they don’t. No matter. There are still several awards that this film has a healthy prospect of getting its hands on.

Baywatch’s faith in knackered clichés is bemusing. Zac Efron arrives into the movie on a motorbike, wearing sunglasses and a leather jacket. Ronnie (Jon Bass), the film’s lovesick oaf, can produce nothing funnier upon meeting the beautiful CJ (Kelly Rohrbach) than incoherent mumbling. It might have worked in the corny TV universe from whence it came, but it falls far short here.

Mitch Buchanan (Dwayne Johnson) is the leader of Baywatch, a team of lifeguards that assumes the role of assistant police force when the activities of a local crime gang become evident on their beach. Despite disgruntlement from Matt (Efron), an Olympic swimming champion required by the terms of a vaguely detailed plea deal to work with the team, and from the actual police force, they continue to flout the limitations of their job description in order to apprehend the villains. After much self-important gnashing of teeth, Matt begins to embrace the atmosphere of teamwork and interdependence engendered by the rest of the group, and the film’s central lesson is well on its way to being learned.

Elsewhere, romance rears its head in the usual ways; Matt’s self-assured charm fails to work its magic on Quinn (Alexandra Daddario), and Ronnie’s feelings for CJ lead him into a series of awkward (and painfully unfunny) encounters. In one surprisingly innovative sequence, he gets his genitalia stuck between the slats of a wooden beach lounger. The bit is dragged on for far longer than it should be, but it shows an element of imagination that the film could unquestionably have done with more of.

It is difficult to tell exactly what the producers of this movie intended to make. Long stretches of it are designed to feel like an action-based drama, but streams of attempted jokes make it seem more like comic farce. In any case, neither is executed well.

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Baywatch’s plot is uninspiring, and its set pieces, trying desperately to come across as flashy and gasp-inducing, fail to impress. Its characters let it down just as much. While Efron does his best to inject charm into his impossibly one-dimensional cad, Johnson’s overzealous performance is almost reminiscent of his days as a pro wrestler. Short of providing plenty of footage for the film’s advertising campaign and acting as the obligatory love interests, the females are given very little to do; you’ll be doing well to remember each of their names by the end of the movie. The comedy, though frequent and sometimes rather protracted, is depressingly unfunny.

2018’s Razzies are scheduled to take place at the end of next February. While it’s possible that a series of films as dire as this will descend upon cinemas before the end of the year, I wouldn’t bet against Baywatch bringing home the spoils (as it were) in a category or two.


Film Review

Wonder Woman – A Review

Directed by Patty Jenkins. Starring Gal Gadot, Chris Pine, Robin Wright, Danny Huston, David Thewlis, Connie Nielsen. Running time: 141 minutes. Rating: 12A.

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Much has been made of this film’s contribution to the feminist movement, at least in the world of high-budget film. Admittedly, females are pretty poorly represented at the table of lead roles in big-budget action thrillers; despite a general surge in the number of female leads in Hollywood, this is a genre that still harbours a strong preference for male protagonists, with men taking 97% of lead roles in action films in 2016.

Felicity Jones’ turn in Rogue One makes her the most noteworthy member of the remaining 3%, but she didn’t spend half of her screen time beating able-bodied men to a pulp and nonchalantly deflecting slack-jawed male admiration of her beauty. Wonder Woman allows Gal Gadot time to do plenty of both. Would it be cynical to suggest that this may have been a political ploy on the part of DC? Perhaps not. The fact that the film’s opening half hour is taken up primarily by scantily clad (and invariably gorgeous) women roving about on horseback invites the question as to what kind of feminism the film is really trying to appeal to, however. Certainly not the type that would risk alienating male viewers.

Wonder Woman, known in her earlier years as Diane, begins life as the only child on an idyllic island inhabited exclusively by a tribe of female warriors sent to Earth by the gods of Mount Olympus to preserve humankind from its troublesome self-destructive tendencies. Despite the disapproval of her mother (Connie Nielsen), Diane begins combat training with her aunt, General Antiope (Robin Wright) and soon reveals unrivalled ability as a fighter. When charming war pilot Steve Trevor (Chris Pine) crashes into their midst, bringing a procession of nasty German soldiers in his wake, Diane learns of the horrific ongoing events of the First World War and feels compelled to offer her help. Away they go to the war’s frontlines.

Diane’s first experiences of the outside world are dealt with in predictable fashion, and leap at the chance to work in some safe humour. She has difficulty wearing human clothing, and remarks at the poor quality of “armour” in her new world upon seeing a mannequin sporting lingerie. Her ignorance of the quirks of human society manages to be endearing at times; never less so, however, than when a skittish Pine is forced through a horribly protracted explanation of sex to her.

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Pine, for his part, works fine as the boyish love interest, but is not as convincing when required to do the job of earnest war hero. Gadot’s performance is more rounded, but once her character’s naivete begins to come across as dim-wittedness (which, after the fifth or sixth wide-eyed expression of disbelief at the folly of humanity, it does), it becomes more difficult to take her seriously as a credible heroine.

Which is not to say that she doesn’t spend plenty of time dishing out supercharged beatings; Jenkins has quite contentedly gone overboard with the fight scenes. While this is sure to please some, and certainly won’t deter anyone who enjoyed Batman vs Superman or Man of Steel, it can make for boring viewing after a while. There is also a lamentable lack of cut-and-thrust to the action; rarely are we treated to a lengthy session of nicely choreographed fisticuffs. Loud noises and colourful explosions are, however, in no short supply.

It isn’t all bad news. The film’s colossal budget has left an obvious imprint, and the beautiful effects and talented cast make this film a rather pleasant watch at times. Don’t expect a huge amount of substance, however.


Film Review

Colossal – A Review

Directed by Nacho Vigalondo. Starring Anne Hathaway, Jason Sudeikis, Dan Stevens, Austin Stowell, Tim Blake Nelson.


This is one of those movies that is unwilling (or merely unable) to assign itself a genre. Rarely have I seen a film so reluctant to decide on what it is or what it wishes to say. We start out with some unsure comedy, before the notion of a character-driven drama is introduced. Romance, or at least the suggestion of it, enters the frame briefly, while generous helpings of sci-fi and horror also feature. By the end, one is left wondering why there wasn’t a bit of intergalactic space opera thrown in for good measure.

Anne Hathaway’s Gloria begins this film as an irresponsible party girl, before donning the mantle of alcoholic when her boyfriend insists that she leave their shared apartment in New York. She returns to the sleepy Midwestern town from whence she came, and is offered a job in childhood friend Oscar’s (Jason Sudeikis) bar. Naturally enough, bar work takes its toll on her recovery process, and she soon falls into a routine of drinking until sunrise after every shift with Oscar and his friends. Meanwhile, a Godzilla-esque monster begins to make periodic appearances in the city of Seoul, repeatedly arriving at the same place and leaving death and destruction in its wake (but, oddly enough, not inspiring any apparent evacuation of the area whatsoever). A supernatural link between the two storylines is revealed, and the film’s central plotline ensues.

The problem with Colossal’s multi-genre approach is that it struggles to inhabit any one genre particularly well. When it’s a comedy, its jokes fail to amuse. The supernatural elements are dealt with too briefly to make for effective sci-fi. Granted, Anne Hathaway does save this film to a certain extent; her Gloria is layered and relatable, and we are never quite sure how much to let ourselves like her. Sudeikis does his best, but ultimately fails to make anything decent of Oscar, the believability of whose character is readily sacrificed for the outlandish purposes of the script. Engaging dialogue and cleverly drawn and delivered supporting roles threaten to break the mould at certain stages, but this is ultimately a movie that collapses under the weight of its own ridiculousness.


Film Review

Philomena (2013) – A Review

Directed by Stephen Frears. Starring Steve Coogan, Judi Dench.


“Some of the nuns were very nice.” This is what Philomena Lee (Judi Dench) says in response to journalist Martin Sixsmith’s (Steve Coogan) incredulity at the conduct of the order of nuns in whose care she found herself after giving birth to her son as an unmarried teenager in 1950’s Ireland. The quote serves as something of a microcosm for the film’s subject matter; despite the abhorrent deeds committed by religious orders in Ireland at the time, and for decades afterwards, they thrived on the unyielding support of a national community that has only recently come to condemn their actions. Frears’ portrayal of senior members of the sisterhood is deliberately unflattering; at certain points, they come across merely as fierce devotees to a misguided set of principles, while, at the other end of the spectrum, they seem overtly psychopathic. Considering the facts of the story, it would have been almost impossible to illustrate them differently.

A brisk opening sequence details Philomena’s trials in the convent while her son is an infant, before he is given by the nuns to an American family without her consent, nor even her prior knowledge. With the help of her daughter, Dench’s Philomena, an endearingly earnest woman who has since moved to England, seeks the help of Sixsmith in tracking down her son fifty years later. Initially reluctant, the snobbish journalist eventually agrees to embark on the search with Philomena and her daughter, traveling first to the abbey in Roscrea where she last saw her son. What emerges thereafter is a series of events so improbable it would have been dismissed as outlandish if it were fiction.

Philomena works spectacularly on two main levels. The first is as a statement of outrage at the atrocities committed by the epochal Irish religious hierarchy. Frears does a fine job of exposing the ruthlessness of the culture and its participants, as well its human impact. The film’s middle section holds back the more troubling drama to allow for the second; an “odd couple,” comedy, to which the two main characters could hardly be better suited. Steve Coogan’s infuriatingly arrogant toff is well-judged, and his blatant disdain for those around him is hugely enjoyable on a few occasions. It is Dench, however, who provides the standout performance. Her good-natured innocence makes for several moments of hilarity (blithely exclaiming to a Mexican chef that his country would be lovely were it not for the kidnappings), but is never allowed to detract from the profoundness of her character’s struggle, which she handles with moving sincerity. Had she not had the misfortune of being nominated alongside the masterful embodiment of psychological disarray from Cate Blanchett in Woody Allen’s Blue Jasmine, this could well have garnered her a second Academy Award.



Film Review

Gifted – A Review

Directed by Marc Webber. Starring Chris Evans, Mckenna Grace, Lindsay Duncan, Jenny Slate, Octavia Spencer.


A cynic might suggest that Gifted is a knockoff of Good Will Hunting. There are certainly parallels that may be drawn; Mary Adler’s (Mckenna Grace) astonishing mathematical prowess does provoke instant reminders of the troubled hero of Gus Van Sant’s classic. This film carves itself a different path, however. For one thing, Mary is just 7 years of age; while Will Hunting was saddled with the task of using his superhuman intellect to make peace with the unfairness and brutality of life, she is allowed the freedom to ignore the implications of her intelligence. The task of properly applying her talents is left to the adult characters in the film, and this forms the basis for the movie’s narrative.

Mary’s capabilities become apparent when, on her first day of school, she quickly (and with charming indignation) rattles off the answers to a number of problems that her teacher requires a calculator to solve. When her uncle, and legal guardian, Frank, (Chris Evans) refuses to have her sent to a school for gifted children to protect her chance at a normal childhood, his snobbish (and stiffly British) mother (Lindsay Duncan) intervenes, with the ultimate result being a courtroom custody battle. Along the way, we are treated to a painfully predictable and largely unnecessary romance between Frank and Mary’s teacher Bonnie (Jenny Slate) and a series of spirited contributions from neighbour Roberta (Octavia Spencer).

It would be easy to focus on the negatives here; the plotline is held together by one or two highly improbable developments, and the script is riddled with clichés. At one point, Frank and Bonnie sit at a bar, tipsily agreeing that nothing improper should occur between them, when the scene cuts to reveal that they do, in fact, return to Frank’s house to tear each other’s clothes off. The episode is so reminiscent of Ben Stiller and Jennifer Aniston’s initial tryst in Along Came Polly that one wonders whether Marc Webb was trying to get his production company sued.

These issues are comfortably outweighed by the film’s positive points, however. Gifted weaves compelling legal drama into its foundations as a family-based film, and asks some tough questions about child genius. We are made to appreciate the difficulty in finding the balance between the welfare of a child and the general responsibility to ensure that their potential is fulfilled. Duncan personifies the latter side nicely; she is not quite portrayed as soulless, but single-minded and ruthlessly opposed to mediocrity. At one point, she derisively explores the possibility that, with the wrong guidance, her genius granddaughter might end up watching sitcoms and saying “irregardless.” What especially sticks in the memory, however, is the turn made by Grace as Mary. Her toothless smile contributes to a beautiful portrayal of youthful innocence, while still leaving us with a believable child prodigy. Her on-screen relationship with Evans is impressively natural, and packed with emotive energy on one or two occasions. This film ran the risk of being labelled formulaic and bland; its characters, richly developed and skilfully delivered, emerge as its saviour.