Chris At The Pictures: matthew mcconaughey
Showing posts with label matthew mcconaughey. Show all posts
Showing posts with label matthew mcconaughey. Show all posts

Wednesday, 23 August 2017

'The Dark Tower' - Review

8/23/2017 12:21:00 pm 0
'The Dark Tower' - Review
★ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆  

Look, I get it: a one-star rating always looks very harsh. This one isn’t chiefly directed towards The Dark Tower for its technical faults (though they’re certainly plentiful), but at its total failure to bring anything new to the table whatsoever, or drum up the slightest inkling of interest in its soon-to-follow franchise. Apparently optioned by studio heads who thought cinema needed another book adaptation that turns potentially interesting source material into listless young adult fare, this hopeful sequel to an as-yet unmade TV series wastes its ammunition early.

Based very loosely on Stephen King’s eponymous series, the film follows young New Yorker Jake Chambers (Tom Taylor), a mop-haired ‘Chosen One’ plagued by nightmares of a giant tower, the evil sorcerer bent on its destruction (Matthew McConaughey) and a gunslinger sworn to protect it (Idris Elba). Jake carries within him a mysterious power known as ‘The Shine’, which McConaughey’s Man in Black (or Walter, to use his hilariously underwhelming real name) wishes to harness against the tower at the centre of the universe. Upon its collapse, untold horrors from outside the realms of our reality will spring forth.

It seems irrefutable now that Interstellar marked the end of the so-called ‘McConaissance’: the Texan actor’s recent strain of underwhelming performances come to a head here with Walter, a drawling bore who, for all his (exceptionally badly-dubbed) expository dialogue, never actually explains what he stands to gain from letting all the nasties into our universe.

Elba doesn’t fare much better, mind. His natural charisma prevents Roland the gunslinger from becoming a total non-entity, though his backstory and relationship with Jake can essentially be summed up by the bit in Hot Fuzz when Danny asks Nicholas “Ever fired two guns whilst jumping through the air?”

Taylor is fine, but the screenplay never gives him an opportunity to express any awe at all the extraordinary sights revealed to him. When Jake first enters the gunslinger’s world through a portal (guarded by a floorboard monster, no less), there’s a brief pause for breath before he encounters Roland and then we’re off on a plodding expedition to the next plot point. The journey across alien landscapes and through the bowels of New York is notable only for a smug littering of references to other King works and – even in the constraints of a 90-minute movie – feels a slog.

There’s also some seriously misjudged darkness thrown in for good measure, too, for what 12a-certificate film wouldn’t be complete without child slavery, torture, skin-harvesting monsters and several-hundred gory gunshot wounds? This tonal patchwork – see-sawing between Walter burning innocent people to death and Roland discovering the delights of a certain branded cola – does nothing to stave off images of Akiva Goldsmith (Transformers: The Last Knight) and Jeff Pinkner (The Amazing Spider-Man 2) drafting their screenplay by squashing all seven volumes of King’s original story into a blender. Pity they didn’t do the same with their keyboards.

Wednesday, 14 September 2016

'Kubo and the Two Strings' - Review

9/14/2016 07:04:00 pm
'Kubo and the Two Strings' - Review
★ ★ ★ ★ ½ 


There’s a moment in Peter Jackson’s sublime adaptation of J. R. R. Tolkein’s The Two Towers in which our hero, Frodo Baggins, appears devoid of all hope. “What are we holding onto?”, he asks his loyal companion, Samwise Gamgee. Turning away from the devastation of conflict and the fires of hatred, Sam replies “That there’s good in this world, Mr. Frodo, and it’s worth fighting for”. This unshakeable belief in the goodness of others is the essential spirit of Kubo and the Two Strings, the magnificent new film from Laika.

Our hero is the eponymous Kubo (Art Parkinson); a one-eyed, fatherless boy who spends his days caring for his heartbroken mother and (in an ingenious metaphor for the art of animation itself) astonishing the people of his village by transforming sheets of paper into fantastical legends with a pluck of his guitar strings. When twin evil aunts (sporting V for Vendetta-style masks and voiced by Rooney Mara) attempt to draw him into the clutches of his grandfather (Ralph Fiennes), Kubo’s mother imparts the last of her own magic onto her son. Cast out into the wilderness, Kubo is joined by a wary protector, Monkey (Charlize Theron) and soon after by Beetle (Matthew McConaughey), a forgetful samurai trapped in an insect body. The three embark on a quest to find three mystical objects (the sword unbreakable, the breastplate impenetrable, and the helmet invulnerable), all of which will help Kubo defeat his grandfather.

As if there was the tiniest doubt, the animation is flawless, an exquisite meld of painstakingly handcrafted stop-motion and tasteful computer enhancements. First-time director Travis Knight (previously an animation supervisor for the studio) makes sure his peers’ work is cut out for them, and that aspiring animators (a parish to which yours truly previously belonged) have something truly remarkable to aspire to. An animation is only ever as good as the cast who breathe life into it, and the voiceover work here is an endearing effort by all, particularly Theron as the sardonic ape guardian. McConaughey’s Beetle is also charming, and Fiennes – of course – makes top villain material.

What seems on the outside to be a fairly predictable, kid-friendly adventure story is revealed to be anything but. The first five minutes are near-silent; depicting our young hero’s daily attempts to connect with his distant, non-responsive mother. After a day spent regaling the town with fabulous stories, Kubo returns to the cave he and his mother call home as the sun sets, and leans in to hug her. It’s the smallest, most recognisable gesture, but immediately opens the mind (not to mention the tear ducts). Laika’s past works (including kiddie horror Paranorman and grungy knockabout The Boxtrolls) have rarely tapped into the audience’s emotions as easily as perhaps Pixar might, but with Kubo it’s instantaneous, and – as with the most enduring of stories – has something to offer for everyone. The scary monsters and swooping action sequences will work wonders for children, whilst small notes in the dialogue can be expected to draw knowing glances between adults: “We’re not arguing, we’re just having a grown-up conversation!”

It’s also a very playful film that likes to throw around ideas and concepts about the nature of storytelling. Kubo faces the prospect of concluding his origami swashbucklers with lip-trembling reluctance, but Beetle is quick to re-assure him that stories never really end. It’s a beautifully uplifting and touching moment in a film with about a thousand of them. Laika weave this tale for us, this shining pearl of genuine optimism after a summer chock full of cynical attempts to rehash previous childhood delights, and all they ask in return is that we pay attention. “If you look away, even for an instant, then our hero will surely perish”, warns Kubo’s opening voiceover, and you daren’t blink, lest this pure and delicate wonder be whisked away to a world more deserving of its magic.

Friday, 7 November 2014

'Interstellar' - Review

11/07/2014 02:47:00 pm
'Interstellar' - Review
From acclaimed director Christopher Nolan, Interstellar sees retired pilot Cooper (Matthew McConaughey) depart on a desperate mission to save what is left of mankind. With an intrepid group of space explorers in tow (including previous Nolan collaborator Anne Hathaway), Cooper is forced to leave his children behind on a dying Earth and search for new life among the stars, by way of a newly discovered wormhole.

In the past, despite his many technological or visual achievements, Nolan has often been criticised for a lack of emotion in his movies, and Interstellar proves once and for all that this is nonsense: the central performances from Matthew McConaughey and Mackenzie Foy as his daughter Murph are powerhouses of emotion, and I’ll let my tear-stained face attest to that. Usual Nolanites Anne Hathaway and Michael Caine put in fine turns, but annoyingly the most surprising and interesting performance I can’t actually talk about because of (very complex) plot reasons.


Without the guiding hand of usual cinematographer Wally Pfister and with a heavier reliance on digital effects than most of his back catalogue, Nolan has somehow managed to pull of the most visually awe-inspiring film since Gravity. Hoyte Van Hoytema perfectly captures the grounded, dust-caked world of Earth whilst the injection of CGI is blended seamlessly with the physical locations and sets. There is considerable debt owed to 2001: A Space Odyssey, but the coldness many find in Kubrick is refuted by the aforementioned performances.

Composer Hans Zimmer has been scoring movies for over twenty years, and going into Interstellar I was slightly concerned as to what direction he’d take the piece, and whether his goldmine of composition would finally run dry: I needn’t have worried for a second, because the film contains his finest work. The bombast of Man of Steel and the honking of Inception is thrown away and replaced with an ethereal, pulsing soundtrack that is based on an incredibly simple two-note foundation but grows to encompass the galaxy-spanning journey of the film.

At its heart, the film looks like a high-concept genre picture but expands into something much more, taking on philosophy, theoretical science and morality and emerging not only unscathed but triumphant. The nearly three-hour running time gives the story time to introduce these complex issues and trusts that they will take hold and develop within the audience without feeling long or languorous at all. It is completely unafraid to challenge the audience and even Nolan’s staunchest critics have to accept this.


Interstellar is an incredible experience, marrying the visual ballet of Kubrick with the tangible reality of the original Star Wars and the heart of Spielberg. If we strip away the stunning visuals, expertly-woven plot and the entrancing soundscape, we are left with the heart-rending story of a father and daughter torn apart by space and time but whose love transcends both. Only one question remains: where can Nolan go from here?