ThisFilmIsOn

This may well be the darkest film of the year. Not dark as in fucked up, woe is the world, evil nastyness prevails kinda dark, its way too second rate Saw for that. No I mean dark as in, someone didn’t pay Powergen, put another pound in the meter, even carrot chomping motherfuckers like Bugs couldn’t see what was going on, kinda dark. This lack of illumination may be a blessing because what you do get to see isn’t really worth opening your peepers for in the first place.

The spellcheck cursing Milo Ventimiglia plays Dr. Grey (is he dark/is he light? why not name him Dr. Mysterious instead) a charity working, teachers pet Pathologist who spends his freetime doting on his fiancee. Once he starts an internship at a hospital with ubercrazy Michael ‘he was the cop in Garden State’ Weston he soon transforms into a crack smoker who likes to fuck aggresively in the same room as fresh corpses that he recently made all dead. If there is a plot or goal that he’s hoping to achive by the time the credits role its lost on me.

The trailer promised a film from the creators of Crank and so therefore I was hoping for some ridiculous, possibly nauseating, over the top violence with tongue firmly in mouth cavity. Sadly this film has delusions of grandeur that lead you to believe the makers thought that this opus was on a par with classics such as Se7en. One speech at the start seems espoused by John Doe’s retarded nephew.

Heroes Milo continues his mystifying belief that if he turns one corner of his mouth down it signifies emoting. The speed at which his characters moral compass spins from North to South is as ridiculous as the gaping 6ft deep plotholes. Questions such as, ‘would you really bring your girlfriend into the same town and environment that you share with your supposedly secret fucked up friends?’ and ‘would the authorities let you perform the autopsy of a loved one, when you would without a doubt be a suspect?’ can only be answered with a big fat No. Coincidentally its the same answer to whether you should watch Pathology.

How She Move is not a bad film. I never thought I’d scribble down a sentance like that but watching Hollywood churn out buckets of never-ending chod to the tune of SIX films a week (and thats just in the cinema folks, I still watch movies at home too) you start to relax your opinion about the average films. How She Move, being a danceteenathon, also has the benefit of being favourably compared to the train wreck of Step Up 2: The Streets a similar danceteenathon but one that has no balls.

I’m going to break with tradition on this review and list the reasons why this is a superior product to the aformentioned carriage mangled mess.
1. The lead girl Rutina Wesly has been cast because she can act and dance. Not because she has a mannequin perfect body and she can dance.
2. The dance moves are mainly shown from one camera angle without fancy editing, therefore what you see is what you get, not Hollywood trickery.
3. The characters are mainly from Jamaica. No racism intended here but they can move. As in dance. I would defend myself and say I have loads of black friends, blah, blah, but I live in Norfolk so that would just be a lie.
4. At no point does anyone cry about the illegality of dancing as Step Up 2 does. Its dancing for fucks sake, its not a criminal offence to shake ones booty. Unless you’re that fat chick off Eastenders.
5. Its not set in Baltimore so it doesn’t call for ridiculously unfavourable comparisons to The Wire, The Greatest Show On TV. (One again thank you Mr. Brooker and my housemate Mr. Benson for not shutting up about how great it is. It really, really,really, really is.)

I could add to the list but it may take me over the A4 sheet that I like to print these diatribes out on. OCD not withstanding I do have one gripe and thats the piss poor voiceover at the start of the film. There is as much need for it as there is a need for Anne Widdecombe to be tested for sexually transmitted diseases. The point of a first act is to setup the story, if you tell us every bit of information about the lead characters life the first 20 minutes becomes pointless. I’m guessing this inclusion was at the behest of MTV not Paramount Vantage.

When a film has not one but two, seemingly unrelated, pre-credits sequences there is a fair bet that the film will get a little confusing and quite possibly above its station. When both of these sequences make me jump out of my skin I know I’m in for a fairly rough ride. How many years am I gonna lose to this venture of watching films that my disposition isn’t accustomed to? But enough of me and my rather girlie nature, will this film deserve a collect call or will you it make you want to hang up? And if you think those puns are bad, wait til the end of the review.

Shannyn “Sausageman” Sossoman is the pretty teen in danger (although she’s actually 24 in this) whose friends all start dying in mysterious and fucked up ways. When the deaths can be traced back to phonecalls recorded at the time of death before the death (its not as confusing as it sounds) she teams up with Ed “I’m beginning to look a bit like Ben Affleck with a much, much smaller head” Burns and they set out to find out who is the spooky wooky behind it all.

Coming across like a cross between Final Destination and Ringu (Or The Ring for stupid people who don’t like subtitles and subtlety) One Missed Call isn’t half bad. Its formulaic as hell but there is something to be said for a film that ticks the boxes it should. Most importantly the main ‘ghosts’ will shit you right up, especially the little baby with the mobile. Ha I just got that, ‘baby plays with mobile’. Thats pretty good.

Its a shame that Shan and Ed phone in their performances. Maybe the producers should have dialed someone else. I’m not sure if sWAPping the original setting form Japan to the US works either. And the twist doesn’t really ring true. Oh and the sub text is lacking.
I hate myself.

For some time I’ve tried to like Hayden Christensen. I feel like I’ve put in a lot of time and effort and quite frankly I’m sick of having it thrown back in my face. When he was first chosen to play lil Annikins I for one did a solitary mexican wave. He looked the part and most importantly he wasn’t James Van Der Beek or Billy from Neighbours. But the man is putting in no work in this relationship choosing duff movie after duff movie. I think I may have to call it a day.

The once Darth is Clay Beresford, a massively rich business man who has an overbearing and slightly Oedipussy mum (those are two words to put together if you want Freud calling), a forlorn fiancee in the shape of Jessica Alba and a rather dodgy ticker. When a replacement heart is found for the man, his best friend, Dr. Jack begins preping for surgery. As he’s anaesthetized Clay realises that things aren’t as they should be, especially when he can still feel the first incision. As he lies on the operating table taking in every cut he begins to learn some dark truths about his friends and family.

My opening berating of Hayden may be unfair when Jessica Alba puts in a performance of such ineptitude. She may be pretty, but for a sackful of Werthers Originals she couldn’t flex an acting muscle. As for Terrence you better rock the shit out of Iron Man if your going to get a christmas card from me this year. Is it just me or do comments like that last one make me sound a little like a pissed off fanboy? I swore this website wouldn’t go that way, but its late and I’m tired and this film has left me more than a little peeved.

The main reason for the peeved nature is that the film just doesn’t go anywhere. And it certainly doesn’t go there fast. Clocking in at well under 90 mins it feels like your under the knife for a much, much longer time. The twists and turns that are supposed to make it feel like a drive down a winding country lane are so boringly predictable that instead the viewer is made to feel as if they’re being taken down a motorway thats in urgent need of repair. With a shit view. Pillfering horribly from a great movie like Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind does it no favours either. The opposite of Awake is what I’d have been if this was ten minutes longer.

There are two things likely to pump my blood. One is a horror film that is genuinely scary and makes me wanna go poop. The other is the over use of camcorder footage to scare and frighten (see Diary of the Dead Review) especially when weilded by unsympathetic camera crews. Forgetting the annoying shaky cam effect for a second the main problem with these films is that due to the docu feel nature there is little to no emotional engagement with any of the characters. Instead we are left with nameless, faceless victims being offed one by one. Doesn’t mean it isn’t scary enough to make me wanna poop though.

A local Spainish television crew, complete with foxy, ambitous reporter Angela, are shooting a feature following people who work nights entitled “While you are asleep”. This particualr segment follows the local fire crew as they are called out to assist an elderly woman locked in her flat. When the old lady turns pyscho and eats the neck of one of the crew sent to help her the apartment building is sealed by the authorities on the grounds of a health scare. Slowly but surely the residents, the firemen and the camera crew are… well they aren’t sent flowers and hugged by puppies lets put it that way.

I’m unsure whether or not I’m starting to respect these “I’ll do anything for a story” reporter types or if the more I see of them the more I think what wankers they are. I think its the latter because at the end of the day what valuable help are they really giving to the public. It seems to me that the only positive warning their reporting gives us is don’t be nice to crazy deranged zombie kids. Don’t worry guys I won’t. But really enough of me moaning about this ‘type of movie’ because the subject matter is of little interest what the viewer really wants to know is, Did it shit me up? Yes, yes and three times yes.

The claustrophobic feel, the primal fears and the cheap shocks were all heaped on in spades. There is a suitable amount of realistic gore to get to the pit of your stomach (if the camerawork doesn’t get there first) and the screams, once they start, never stop. After the lamentable Diary of the Dead it seems Romero could get a tip or two from the youngsters in how to make a terrifying flick. And with the added bonus of the Spainish Catholic/Zombie Possesion subtext a George A style ‘explicit comment on our times’ is included in the ticket price too.

Prolific is a word that you could readily associate with Judd Apatow. Whereas actors can jump from project to project, sometimes churning out 4 to 5 films a year, for a writer, producer, director to do the same is a seldom seen thing. Yet in the past 12 months he’s had a hand in Talledega Nights, Walk Hard, Superbad, Knocked Up. Within the month we’ll have Forgetting Sarah Marshall to add to the ever growing list. So is the guy awesomely talented or is there a hit/miss ratio here that needs to be addressed?

Drillbit Taylor deals with three loser kids, the fat one, the geeky one and the weedier than Snoop Doggs cigarettes one all being bullied by uber pyscho Filkin (played by Elephants Alex Frost). When the japes the bully chooses to get the kids within begin to get out of hand the dweebs opt to hire a bodyguard. Sadly with only pocket money to fund this they have to settle for Drillbit Taylor, a homeless guy with delusions of grandeur. Drillbit, while playing the kids at first, soon becomes attached to them, attached to a teacher in their school and more attached to living a life away from the gutter.

I could watch Owen Wilson in just about anything (save Armageddon, the Aerosmith song makes me want to kill) and here he is again being goofy and adorable like a labrador with a wonky nose. While recent events have led to an intense look in his eyes you can’t quite ignore, the film doesn’t entirely rest on his shoulders, so any such dark analysis is quickly forgetton as the kids take centre stage. What we are left with is a family movie much like School of Rock but with a little slightly meaner streak. After all, the bullying dished out and given back to Filkin and his cohort are easily the films funniest moments.

Coming on like Superbad:The Early Years, the film is certainly not the car crash that some reviewers have stated it is. The fundamental flaw is that its is an ‘Apatow film’ therefore comparisons will be made to his more succesful, and crucially, more grown up work. But if you take Drillbit as the 10-15 age bracket that this reviewer so clearly thinks it is intended you’ll see a well meaning, moral message movie that anybody under the age of consent will lap up. Oh and because I’ve only mentioned about 10 films to show off my movie knowledge try this one, ‘a light heartened, Hollywood version of A Room for Romeo Brass.’ Or maybe not.

Look children! Its Fast and the Furious with Fists! Its Fight Club for Fucked up Fourteen year olds! Its King of the Kickboxers without Keith Cooke! Its the Karate Kid meets the O.C.!
I do apologise for the amount of exclamation marks but its summer time and I’m nice and happy now. Does this mean all the reviews over the next few months will be positive and love will shine out from this website settling peace throughout the land? No, because after watching this all I wanted to do was punch the writer. Hard. In the Face.

Tom Cruise lookalike, Sean Faris is Jake Tyler (Durden?!). A high school kid whose been in his fair share of fisticuffs since his father wrapped his truck round a tree. Moving to a new school (the catalyst for all coming of age movies it seems) he falls for Mandy Lane (that chick who plays Mandy Lane). Unfortunately she is dating Brad Pitt lookalike, Ryan McCarthy (Cam Cigandet) whose main aim in life is to beat people up. Its all okay though because its pre-arranged and nobody really gets hurt.

Surprisingly this isn’t the worst film in the world. Don’t get me wrong its not good, but theres something to be had here. The leads are poster boys and Mandy is jailbaitingly alluring, pouting and biting her top lip in a way that leads me to be believe she started her career in porn. But the main draw is definitely Djimon Hounsou playing well below his station (it seems nobody is shooting an In America or Blood Diamond at the moment, but the guys got bills to pay). He is the Mixed Martial Arts tutor who instructs Sean into the ways of being able to kick the crap out of someone, but all the time telling him he shouldn’t. As the title suggests though the final fight is coming whether the ideals of the film want it to or not.

This for me is the big let down of the movie. His mum, his mentor and his girlfriend all tell him not to go brawling in car parks but then in the last reel they have a collective change of heart and egg him on. There would be riots in the cinema if the final fight didn’t happen but it does cheapen all the life lessons that come before. Having a go at Hollywood for being irresponsible is like telling pandas to fuck more, but the fact that only one person is hospitalised in these, at times, brutal fights is a little hard to take. But its an MTVesque movie so the police are never called, when someone urgently requires medical assistance they have a lie in instead and by the end everyone has got the R.E.S.P.E.C.T they so, so dearly crave.

I’m getting old. I’ve found my first few grey hairs. I don’t care for the band Foals much. I refuse to watch Skins because it looks too yoof. And now theres a nostalgic film being released about a time that I can almost remember. While the first Rambo was released the year I was born there is much about the era that rings a bell. But then this may be the biggest strength of the film, that the audience can relate to it whatever their age.

Will Proudfoot is a 10 year old kid with a rather unfortunate start to life being that he’s brought up in a deeply religious household that doesn’t allow t.v, films or fun of any kind really. Lee Carter is his opposite, a tearaway thats allowed free reign due to absent parents, who spends his days pirating copies of Rambo First Blood. When Lee bullies young Will into giving him a ride home, the church goer is introduced to Sly’s Rambo, triggering an explosion of imagination and cocaine levels of enthusiasm. The two then set about making the titular Son Of Rambow, an epic sequel/remake made in their surrounding woods with a few quid for a budget.

Its a rare thing indeed to get a British movie that isn’t doom and gloom with shot after shot of overcast skies and council houses looming in the foreground. Rarer still if it isn’t written by Richard Curtis. Not only is British duo Hammer and Tongs second film (after Hitchhikers) rare, its also a rare treat. Funny, warm, knowing, clever, I’m not usually one to list adjectives but this is one that could run and run if the theasurus allowed.

The two leads, Bill Milner and Will Poulter, hold the film together in a way that would make some professionals blush. And its lovely to see Jessica Hynes doing well without the Spaced boys. I was beginning to feel very sorry for her, According to Bex, indeed. The cool French student subplot feels at times like padding but its funny enough to get away with it (The ‘bird shooting bike ride’ had me rolling on the floor but then I’m a sucker for offscreen action).
And I think I’ll finish with some more superlatives, you know try and get myself a quote on the already crowded poster. Emotional, witty, charming, passionate…

I’m not too well read me. Its not that I’m an anti intellectual or particularly afraid of books, its just that over the years I’ve spent more time in Blockbuster than in the Waterstones. So when a famous literary adaptation such as this comes along my first thought is a quote from High Fidelity (the film not the book, although that it one I have read). The quote is as follows “I’ve read books like “The Unbearable Lightness of Being” and “Love in the Time of Cholera”, and I think I’ve understood them. They’re about girls, right?”

Florentina (Javier Bardem) spends his youth obsessed with Fermina (Giovanna Mezzoiorno) a repressed young lady whose love for him is equally as strong. Once her father finds out, she is sent away to stop her disgracing the family. Upon her return Fermina snubs Florentina causing him to fuck his way around South America. All the time though he longs for his first love.

Melodrama is a tricky thing to get right and an even trickier genre to impress this reviewer with. Any film where a girl threatens to top herself after exchanging two glances with a man and instantly falls in love with him is likely to inspire a certain amount of rage from within. Having some awful acting and laughably bad makeup only exacerbates matters and so the anger grew and grew. Thank God for John Leguizamo whoso OTT performance requires only a moustache twirl to cement it in the halls of cinemas worst bad guys hall of fame.

As for the Oscar winning Javier its sad to see him so bland. Occasionally shades of Anton Chigurh cross his eyes and you start to hope that he might mercilleslly start killing people but he chooses to have sex with them in increasingly vomit inducing ways instead. Going in to this I thought no matter how bad the film is I’ll at least learn a little about a famous book and be able to blag my way through a conversation about the source material. Instead, all I still know is, Its about girls, right? Oh yeah, and avoid the 2007 film version like a bad case of gastroenteritis