ThisFilmIsOn

Damn there are some good genes in the Boleyn household. The mother is the none too shabby Kristen Scott Thomas, the youngest daughter is the alluring Scarlett Johansson and the eldest, well anyone who knows me knows that I’m a smitten kitten for all things Natalie Portman. But good looking stars does not a good film guarantee. (For proof of the opposite look no further than Peter Lorre and Steve Buscemi’s eclectic careers). I’m happy to say that, while this is BBC drama department writ large, the easiness on the eyes of the cast is not the only thing to recommend it.

Natalie is Anne Boleyn, an ambituous little minx whose main aim is to marry well. When the position of mistress to Henry VIII (Eric Bana) comes a knocking she duly accepts the challenge and sets out to woo said King. After a riding accident leaves Henry a tad embarrassed he sets his sights on Anne’s sister Mary (Scarlett Johansson) leaving Anne a little bit on the peeved side. Thanks to some fantastic (offscreen) teaching by the Queen of France, Anne sets out to win the King’s affection by some stunning cock teasery.

For fear of repeating myself about marketing campaigns being as reliable as a two legged chair, The Other Boleyn Girl is not, as the poster suggests, about two sisters divided for the love of a king. If you are looking for a love triangle you will be left wanting, as love has nothing to do with the actions of anyone involved in this film (save possibly the mothers love for her children). Instead power and influence, and the corruption therein are the order of the day, with everybody out for themselves.

What seems to be the most successful aspect of the film is that the selfishness of Anne does not automatically mean she is unsympathetic. In fact the opposite seems to be the case, even after we have seen some machiavellian moves that would make Karl Rove (google him, he’s a bad man) blush, we still feel for her. And with her sister Mary being wetter than a Tewksbury doorstep she is certainly the sister that doesn’t deserve to be called ‘The Other’. But then, I would say that, she’s played by Natalie Portman.

Early on in this laughably serious ‘thriller’ a newsreader says to her producer, “You mean dumb it down?”. As said newsreader pops her clogs pretty early on there remains no one to question how stupid this film becomes and dumbing down becomes the dish of the day. Included is a ‘rewind technique’ that not only makes you feel nauseous but sits you down like a child to explain that “Listen children we’re going to go back in time to the start of the story. Is everybody sitting comfortably? Good.”

In a clever homage/total shitting rip off (delete where applicable) Vantage Point takes the Rashomon idea of viewing something from multiple angles. In this case its a Presidents assasination/terrorist attack from the angle of a tourist (Forest Whitaker), a secret service man(Dennis Quaid), a newsproducer (Sigourney Weaver), a spainish cop (Eduardo Noriega) and in a bizarre ‘twist’ (given away in the trailer) The President (William Hurt) himself.

It actually isn’t Rashomon at all I’m just saying that because its an easy comparison. And its a comparison that proves my point about how unintelligent this film is. You see in that classic Japanese movie the differing narratives were conflicting and actually made the audience think. Vanatage Point just shows you exactly the same thing over and over again, just giving you a tiny bit more each time, usually in the form of some cringeworthy expositional dialogue.

The other comparison I’ve heard is that of 24. Now this one is closer, and not just for Dennis Quaid’s ‘Jack Baeur in his 50′s’ performance. But again the comparison is less favourable than setting fire to your own pubic hair. 24 has always been over-the-top enjoyable trash (not all in the creative team may be in on the joke but its clear that seriousness is not always on the menu). Sadly with Vantage Point tongue and cheek are nowhere to be seen. There is a good idea in here somewhere, but once again the filmmakers of this world believe we don’t have a braincell between us to comprehend it.

The internet kills kittens. Its responsible for the downfall of society, the ever diminishing box office returns (due to naughty downloaders) and piss poor reviews of movies by people who think they know a lot about film. Hello there! The internet is a very bad thing. Or so seems to be the theme of Untraceable.

FBI agent and single parent Jennifer Marsh (Diane Lane) is the head of the cybercrime department trying to track down a serial killer who is going around torturing people to death via his website killwithme.com. The hook being the more people that log on the quicker the victim dies. Despite numorous press conferences that tell the public they are murderers if they watch they still log on in their millions.

Pitching closer to Silence of The Lambs than Saw, this isn’t your typical gory torture flick. Thankfully there’s no MTV style editing and the feel is more slowburn than in your face. The gore isn’t in your face either which is good for a big girls blouse like me. Yet at the same time the film never really ratchets up any tension. Instead it drifts by on its gimmick until an ending that is laughably poor.

Maybe its the presence of three writers but there seems to be a clusterfuck of cliches at the end. The ‘lightning storm’ illuminating the ‘basement’ where the heroine is ‘inches from death’ as the police are more than ‘two steps behind’. The only novel thing is the fact that her policemen buddies are watching the climax from their office via the web. But this is played so poorly it generates more chuckles than fear. Acting like an American movie audience the cops cry out and cheer as the heroine struggles to her obvious freedom. In the end Untraceable isn’t unwatchable, but its certainly not one to add to your favourites.

I can only blame the fact that its a leap year for the amount of marriage-centric movies doing the rounds. With February the 29th supposedly the one day when a woman can officially propose to her man (or her woman, although I’m not sure how that works, well I know how that works but I mean in the marriage/proposal type thing. Do gay women really only get one day?) Hollywood seems to be taking an active interest with the intention of lovey doving its audience into thinking a trip up the aisle is the best step forward. Sadly the only thing The Accidental Husband might inspire is a shift to celibacy.

Uma Thurman plays Dr. Emma Lloyd a radio love guru dishing out advice to the women of New Yawk City. When she doles out some of this sagey goodness and inadvertently causes Patrick Sullivan (Jeffrey Dean Morgan) to lose his fiancee, Patrick seeks revenge. But whaddya know? The two fall in love within 20 minutes. Very, very minor complications ensue until they all end happily ever after.

The Bride is a role Uma has played before but in this version you’d be cheering on Bill every step of the way. She starts off the movie as a bitch and ends it a slightly less nagging bitch. Jeffrey Dean Morgan is a bit of an ass who doesn’t really learn anything except “yo, this chick i didn’t like is kinda alright.” Starring in this and P.S. I Love You is doing you no favours in the quest for survival if I ever get to rule the world Jeff. And Isabella Rossellini pops up in a baffling role to explain who the heroine really loves before she vanishes like a fart in a hurricane.

The one pleasure I did have from this film was thinking about the effects that the characters actions would have in real life. Firstly Uma would spend some time in jail for calling out the emergency services for no reason except to fulfil her selfish desires. Jeff would lose his job for similar abuses of power. Colin Firths character would dump her from his publishers and all her readers would switch off once she started singing a different tune from ‘hate all your boyfriends’ to ‘love them all whatever their faults’. And the little Asian kid would be spending some quality time in Guantanamo Bay for hacking into governmental files. Now thats a movie!

I watched The Philedelphia Story last night. I mention that for two reasons. Firstly, to show that Romantic Comedies where guys and gals fall in and out of love and wrestle for each others affections can be enjoyed by a person with a penis. And secondly, to let 27 Dresses off for not being able to quite compare with that particular masterclass so fresh in my mind. It doesn’t mean, however, that its not worth a look. It just means if you get the choice watch Cary Grant and James Stewart battle instead.

The perennial bridesmaid Jane Nichols (you should really spell it with two l’s love, all the cool people do) is in a bit of a funk. Instead of looking for love herself she is always trying to make everyones happy day even happier. Along comes cynical writer (we all are), Kevin, (James Marsden) to show her that weddings are just money grabbing cons, as only a cynical writer would. Throw in her sister getting engaged to the man she really loves and you have a pretty standard flick de chick.

It starts of as a Wedding Crashers for girls in the sense that Jane is at these weddings to have a good time and add to the fun. The bawdy nature of that film isn’t lost entirely but is certainly diluted for the female audience although support from the wonderful Judy Greer (Arrested Development/Elizabethtown) gives it a little edge. Mining for the true nuggets of comedy gold is Katherine Heigl, a bit too good looking to be as pathetic as her character should be, but spot on at the awkwaaaaard moments.

All the cast do solid work with a solid script. Its certainly the first film that I haven’t wanted to kick James Marsdens teeth off his face in. A disappointingly bland ‘chase to the true love at the end and give a big speech’ cheapens what came before. Sidenote – if you do feel like giving up at this point just watch the background cast. Littered throughout this film are some truly fantastic extras overacting, and these are entertaining enough to fill the few dips this film has.

And here I was thanking the movie Gods that there hasn’t been a mockney gangster shit flick to grace our screens in the past 6 months. But smited once again am I. Coming across like Britains answer to Oceans 11 (that would make Jason Statham the UK equivalent of George Clooney – how proud we are!) The Bank Job is appropriately titled. Job as in poo and, well, bank only needs one letter changing.

Terry (Jason Statham) is the chief crook who only rips people off with dodgy motors and is therefore not a real ‘bad guy’. Along comes Saffron Burrows to give him a real opportunity in the form of the titular Bank Job. Terry does a Danny Ocean and assembles a crew of likeable goons to get on the task. Double and Triple crossings ensue as political figures and black activists get involved in a tangled web of bribed police officers and rauncy blackmail snaps.

According to all the marketing it was the ‘true story’ of the century but in the words of Sheriff Bell, “Its certainly true that its a story.” And to be fair the story itself is quite interesting. What takes the proverbial wee wee is how undeeply mined the material is for any suspense or drama.
The annoying and overly familiar dire-logue of the robbers is too off putting to ignore. Examples such as, “Oh no, Terry its the Old Bill!” grate on the nerves like talons on a chalkboard.

I always like to say some good things about the films I watch, if I can, and so here it is. The period detail is impressive. References to the old League Division One being the topflight and Midland Bank instead of HSBC means at least someone on set is doing their job. During one of my early ‘posts’ I labelled this as one of the films I was least looking forward to. I’m indifferent to report that the film left me feeling indfifferent. Poor, but not anger inducing. So the movie Gods should be thanked for that.