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| Jason Momoa as Arthur Curry in AQUAMAN (Warner Bros. (c), still photo by Mark Rogers) ★ ★ ☆ ☆ ☆
Jason Momoa’s effortless charisma and a rich score from Rupert Gregson-Williams are all that prevent the DC universe’s latest voyage from totally capsizing. In all fairness, neither Aquaman or its leading man can be blamed for the reverse-engineered structure of Warner’s answer to the MCU - our protagonist has already appeared in two previous instalments before this; his actual origins story. Nor can they be blamed for the simple fact that digital technology - as powerful as it is - simply isn’t able to convincingly deliver the vast underwater world demanded by the premise. In a comic book? Yup. In animated form? Fine. In a 143-minute ‘live action’ film? Give it five years and a breakthrough in swimming simulations, then we’ll talk.
In the meantime, however, this overstuffed adventure will have to tide fans over. Despite saving the surface world in Justice League, Arthur Curry (Momoa) refuses to accept his Atlantean heritage. His mother, Atlanna (a quite literally washed-up Nicole Kidman), fell for human lighthouse keeper, Tom (Temuera Morrison, rather shoddily de-aged). But beneath the ocean waves, Arthur’s half brother, Orm (Patrick Wilson), rules with an iron fist, planning to wreak havoc on the human world for their crimes against the environment. With the help of sea sorceress, Mera (Amber Heard, in a wig that the cast of RuPaul’s Drag Race might generously deem “a bit much”), Arthur sets out to reclaim the all-powerful trident of Atlan and reclaim his soggy throne.
Director James Wan upturns the tech toybox to play out his kid-in-the-bathtub fantasy, but an enormous visual effects budget is all for naught when spread so unevenly. Giant seahorses, crab monsters and sharks with “frickin’ laser beams attached to their heads” are impressively rendered, but the compositing of human characters leaves much to be desired. There’s a difference between pushing the boundaries and simply pretending they don’t exist: watching the climactic showdown (two armies of pixelated humans astride copy-pasted monsters smashing into one another), I finally understood how audiences of 2002 felt, experiencing George Lucas’ unchecked digital ambition unfold. With the exception of one impressively physical fistfight in the bowels of a submarine, derring-do here is an entirely weightless, witless affair.
But that’s where similarities to the Star Wars prequels end. In 2018, such displays of extravagance are the norm, no longer the stuff of a single visionary auteur fusing Greek tragedy with the cutting edge of filmmaking. Plus, while clunky expositional dialogue wasn’t exactly thin-on-the-ground in Lucas’ trilogy, Aquaman positively drowns in its own storytelling. Besides Arthur’s main quest for the trident, we also have Orm’s uprising, numerous flashbacks to our muscleman’s childhood, and a second, altogether more entertaining villain in the shape of Black Manta (Yahya Abdul-Mateen II), a pirate with a score to settle (and the laser-spitting helmet to prove it).
So, let’s take stock: a hairy hero’s quest to show his worth by reclaiming an ancient weapon, a lush fantastical world, a super-powered royal family, a sibling rivalry that threatens to lay waste to the outside world, and a secondary antagonist with a penchant for face-based plasma: yep, it’s Kenneth Branagh’s Thor...with drumming octopuses!
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Showing posts with label nicole kidman. Show all posts
Showing posts with label nicole kidman. Show all posts
Thursday, 13 December 2018
Sunday, 30 November 2014
‘Everyone in London is different, and that’s why we all fit
in!’ says the eponymous hero of Paul King’s Paddington,
contemplating his new life in London after his forest home in Darkest Peru is
devastated by an earthquake. This single line of dialogue is the crux of the
piece, and something which turns what could have been an uninvolving adaptation
into something with a contemporary message and an identity of its own beyond
the original source material.
Adapted from the much-loved drawings of Michael Bond and the
stop-motion animations of the same name, Paddington
features the voice of Ben Whishaw as the titular bear, with Hugh Boneville
and Sally Hawkins as the put-upon parents of the Brown family, who take him
into their home when no-one else will. Paddington himself is a remarkable
creation of CGI from Gravity’s
Framestore Studios, who is integrated with his flesh-and-blood counterparts
with just as much skill and believability as the primates in the recent Planet of the Apes movies.
The film is visually wonderful, a rich colour palette and
free-flowing cinematography bringing not only the bear but the whole of London
to life, much in the vein of the first two Harry
Potter movies before the lights dimmed. The inhabitants of the film are just
as vibrant as the landscape, Hugh Boneville in very fine form as risk-analyst
Mr Brown as is Sally Hawkins as his free-spirit wife, along with Nicole Kidman
as the gleefully evil taxidermist (essentially dressed as Nigel Farage in
heels) determined to stuff poor Paddington. Ben Whishaw has the perfect voice
for Paddington, a posh but not overdone accent with a dash of timidity and humility
of a young bear just after a home.
Within the first twenty minutes, the film easily passes the
laugh test and soars into the comedy stratosphere all the way to the finish,
with that perfect blend of light slapstick with a tiny drop of innuendo for the
adults that doesn't take over as it does in too many kids’ movies. There are
high-flying action set-pieces, small moments of charm and a healthy dose of Outnumbered-esque style kids’ humour and
it all zips along at an enjoyable pace. But even beyond the wit, there’s clear
indication of how cine-literate the film is: if you look and listen hard
enough, you’ll find references to Mary
Poppins, Pirates of the Caribbean, Indiana Jones and even Blade Runner (yes, really).
While its politics may be writ too large for some (I realise that sadly, certain members of a British audience won't welcome the message of inviting all people of all places to London) and the
schmaltzy ending is a mere teaspoon of sugar too sweet, Paddington is that rare example of an adaptation that pays more
than lip-service to the original and will be remembered just as fondly as the
humble drawings that inspired it. I can say with complete certainty (and
first-hand experience) that not only children, but grown-ups and anyone in-between
will be utterly charmed by it.
★★★★☆
Thursday, 11 September 2014
Christine Lucas (Nicole Kidman) awakes in fright next to a
man she doesn’t recognise, in a body that is too old and a house that is alien
to her. The sleeping man is revealed to be her husband Ben (Colin Firth), who
patiently explains to her that she was involved in an accident which has left
her with a particular form of amnesia, to the extent that she wakes up every
morning believing herself to be 26, when she is in fact 40, before promptly
losing the information every time she sleeps. Before I Go To Sleep explores Christine’s paranoia and attempts to
recollect her past with the help of Doctor Nash (Mark Strong).
The real key to the success of the film are the three leads.
Kidman – who has spent a lot of her recent film roles looking rather
embarrassed – lends a real sense of believable confusion and desperation to the
central part. Colin Firth and Mark Strong have their usual goody and baddy
stereotypes played around with in an interesting way, the former providing a
very refreshingly different screen persona given his past record. Other
characters are kept to the bare minimum, and the tight focus is extremely
effective at building investment.
A great deal of snooty critics have had a problem with the
opening twenty minutes, where Christine has to have her condition explained to
her several times, and many have complained that it becomes repetitive and
irritating. I on the other hand think they must’ve seen a different film,
because I found myself gripped from the get-go, thrust into the heart of the
drama. The slow descent into uncertainty is carefully handled, feeling slow and
deliberate without padding out the running time.
Composer Edward Shearmur delivers a delicate, tick-tocking
score that nicely complements the developing narrative, but knows exactly when
to drop out, particularly in the incredibly tense final act, where any
significant score would have felt like an unwanted interruption. The lead-up is
properly gripping in a way that modern thrillers seldom are, providing a fair
share of twists that are shocking yet stop short of being utterly ridiculous.
Whilst it may be true that the film doesn’t feel the need to
fill the frame constantly with an array of useless side characters, I only wish
that the frame itself was as carefully considered: the cinematography is
nothing to shout about – with the possible exception of the opening close-up –
and the whole picture has been laced with an irritating iron-grey tinge that
serves only to dissipate the realism rather than enhance it. There is also one
scene right at the very end that appears to have been shot entirely differently
and could really do with being edited out completely to create a more cohesive
story.
Saddled with a title and a premise that seem tailor-made for
critical ridicule, Before I Go To Sleep manages
to bring a lot more to bear than appearances would suggest, crafting an
intricate and surprising web of lies and discovery that comes together in a
gripping and entertaining thriller. I would recommend watching it as a
double-bill with Danny Boyle’s Trance,
another amnesiac thriller with similar themes of repressed trauma but handled
very differently.
4 stars
