Chris At The Pictures

Like many others, I’m sure; this review begins with a clarification. No, more a resigned confession: I’ve never been one for musicals. While everyone else of my generation grew up with the animated song-and-dance phenomenon of the Disney renaissance, the closest I got were cartoons with a few songs in them (predominantly Toy Story, the Phil Collins-heavy Tarzan and a crummy VHS copy of The Transformers: The Movie). There’ve been some exceptions every now and then, including but not limited to Jeff Wayne’s The War of the Worlds, parts of Les Miserables, and the time my housemate practically forced me to watch Chicago. Despite the varying quality of those examples, nothing has ever been able to shake my innate prejudice. I spent the opening logos of La La Land braced to cringe, waiting for the spasm in my gut and the embarrassed shiver to cross my cheeks…but neither came.

Instead, I spent two hours jigging my knee up and down in glee, weeping in wonder and beaming in total surrender, side-by-side with my mum (who, fittingly, took me to see Tarzan all those years ago). For those of you who’ve been living under a rock since the film’s dazzling first appearance at the Venice film festival, Damien Chazelle (Whiplash) directs Ryan Gosling and Emma Stone as Sebastian and Mia, two California dreamers who begin to fall in love after a chance encounter on a busy highway. Seb aspires to open his own Jazz club (in order to save what he sees as a dying genre), and Mia, a wannabe actor, is desperate to escape her life of serving coffee to the inhabitants of the Warner Bros. backlot (“That’s the street from Blade Runner!” – I whispered excitedly as the pair wandered among the vintage façades).

Yeah, I’ve never found myself attached to the grand heritage La La Land is so clearly besotted with, but throw in a location from one of my favourite movies, an original John Legend song and not one, but two sequences paying homage to Rebel Without a Cause, and you’ve got every inch of my being in an unrelenting embrace. Plus, giving Stone a lead role helps. Honestly, I could gush for hours about how her every eye roll, head spin and half-smile in this has extended my life expectancy by several decades, but we’d be here for twice that length.

Where Gosling is concerned, another of my long-held prejudices has been put to rest. While his woozy eyes have understandably wowed many, to me his expression has always appeared vacant, almost detached. In Shane Black’s The Nice Guys, this worked wonders (his character was a complete klutz), and here, too, his hazy gaze speaks to something authentic: the far-reaching mind of a dreamer. I finally get it, you guys.

Okay, now I’ve confessed and repented for my sins, can I gush about the routines, please? Cool, thanks: Justin Hurwitz’ songs are perfect, the dances move with the sweep and grace of sublime animation, and all are presented in a rainbow-soaked palette as flavoursome and primary as a packet of fruit pastilles. Standouts include a hilltop toe-tap (that moonlit beauty from the poster), a one-shot parkour through heavy traffic and a soaring waltz among the stars. Despite wanting to, I hesitate to blabber further: I’d hate to ruin any of what this film has in store.

In contrast to the stark colours, the morality of the story - of Seb and Mia’s victories and sacrifices - is far from black and white. I’m pressed to label it ‘earnest to a fault’…but, well; it hasn't got one! Chazelle knows we’re too cynical to buy a total lovesick ode to Tinseltown right now, so peppers the sweet with spice. Even I (a sometimes fantastically over-sentimental soul) could understand why the film makes certain moves towards the flip-side of fairy tales, undertaking manoeuvres I can’t illustrate any clearer for, again, fear of spoiling the surprise.

So: a glorious ear-worm of a soundtrack, astounding visuals, unfairly loveable stars and a surprisingly textured narrative…I think that just about covers it! Wait, there’s a ‘Take on Me’ cover, too? Complete with Gosling passive-aggressively plinking a keytar? Sod it, take your five stars and get out of here; you’re already too good for 2017 as it is.

P.S. Please don’t actually go, we need you. Badly.

Whilst everyone else has been falling over themselves congratulating Iñárritu on the casting of ex-Batman Keaton in the lead role – a rather unsubtle joke – I’d like to use this opportunity to praise almost everybody else in the ensemble cast. True, Keaton is given more to do than he has been in years, but he’s no revelation: that praise should be re-directed towards Emma Stone as Riggan’s post-rehab daughter who oozes talent throughout, as does Lindsay Duncan as a scathing arts critic determined to bring Thomson’s world down. Zach Galifianakis is at long last given a serious role and Naomi Watts is rescued from the recent shame of Diana in a role more befitting of her unplumbed talent.

Cinematographer Emmanuel Lubezki finally fulfils the fantasy that Gravity could only dream of, with almost the entire film bearing the appearance of one continuous shot that flawlessly transitions from scene to scene. You can keep your eyes peeled for the seams, but you won’t find them: you’ll be too busy jogging your knee up and down to Antonio Sanchez’s jumbled drum score (a lyrical reflection of Riggan’s own confused headspace) and transfixed by Keaton and his cohorts traversing the neon-stained caverns of Broadway.

From the jibes taken at the current string of comic book movies (Birdman most notably sporting a Christian Bale-esque gravelly voice) to the battle between theatre and cinema, Birdman is a film of mostly subtle comedy. True, some scenes of hysterical disagreement between Keaton and Ed Norton as the crazed method actor are played for audible laughs, but it’s the quieter hints at the superiority complex of theatre that works the real magic. If anything it’s refreshing to see an American comedy that isn’t populated with middle-aged men shouting very loudly at crude toilet humour, but a carefully constructed and intelligent film that is actually about something and accomplishes an entertaining climax… even if a clearly defined ending is inexplicably followed by fifteen minutes that really don’t work.

Marc Webb’s The Amazing Spider-Man felt rather lacklustre: released a mere 5 years since the last instalment in Sam Raimi’s trilogy and in the midst of a summer when it had to compete with – amongst others – Prometheus, Avengers Assemble and The Dark Knight Rises, it felt like an aimlessly wandering child being ignored by the cool kids. The Amazing Spider-Man 2 could similarly have felt a little unnecessary and forced, but takes on board the lessons learned in 2012 and makes a name for itself.

The main problem with the previous film is that the central relationship between Peter Parker/Spider-Man (Andrew Garfield) and Gwen Stacy (Emma Stone) felt rather rushed in favour of the struggle between the young Spider-Man and his past. In this instalment, the problems in Peter’s more recent history are used to help develop the relationship between him and Gwen, the latter having promised her dying father that he would leave her in order to spare her the repercussions of his double life. Haunted by the prospect of having to break his promise and threatened by the emergence of a new super-villain known as Electro (Jamie Foxx), the weight of Peter’s double life and the unravelling mystery surrounding his parent’s death are brought right to the forefront.

The first thing of note in the film is that it makes a visible effort to distance itself from other superhero movies by leaving the dark and gritty tone behind and bounding into a bright and colourful comic book world. Spidey’s trademark quips are back, the film’s general palette is a rainbow of burning, vibrant colour and the soundtrack provides a surging aura to the various set pieces. The overall brighter atmosphere also means that when the dark moments do appear they are much more shocking and effective than they otherwise would have been if the whole film remained dark and downtrodden. 

One of the more noticeable elements lacking in Webb’s first Spidey flick was the absence of a strong musical theme and score. James Horner’s self-derivative and forgettable soundtrack pales in comparison to the wildly diverse and energetic score provided by Hans Zimmer. Fresh from the dim and gritty world of Nolan and Snyder, and with Pharrell Williams and Junkie XL in tow, Zimmer gives Spider-Man a brash, memorable central theme and a deep, thrumming electronic theme for Electro, which not only works in orchestra with the actual sound effects within the film but is also the subject of one of Spidey’s many in-fight jokes.

The central relationship between Peter and Gwen (helped by the real-life relationship between the two leads) provides a stable emotional core on which the rest of the film is built, both Garfield and Stone finding their feet and creating a believable on-screen romance. In terms of side characters, the dual villain structure remains well-balanced, not sinking to the ridiculous depths of Spider-Man 3 but giving both Electro and his associate equal (and occasionally shared) screen time. Whilst Electro’s backstory and development feels a little rushed, Jamie Foxx gives a fine performance, his uncertain, stuttering fan boy exterior giving way to a gravelly, rage-fuelled core. Dane Dehaan (who has come a long way since his breakout appearance in Chronicle) adds a degree of charisma and insidiousness while Sally Field’s fragile but determined role as Aunt May keeps Peter and the story grounded.

While some character elements feel a little hurried and the continuing plot thread concerning Peter’s absent father is forced and contrived, The Amazing Spider-Man 2 provides a solid and memorable entry into the web-slinger’s cinematic universe and provides a link to future films that is woven into the plot without choking the main narrative. Sporting fresh visuals, well-developed central characters, and a proper comic book sensibility, the film is a turning point in the continuing franchise.

4 Stars