Jupiter Ascending. Rated M (violence and science fiction themes). 127 minutes. Written and directed by Andy and Lana Wachowski.
Verdict: Cinderella meets Star Trek.
Unbeknownst to Earth-bound cleaning lady Jupiter Jones (Mila Kunis), she is the queen of an alien race who must be eliminated so that the powerful dynasty, led by the ruthless Balem (Eddie Redmayne), can take control of their home planet’s valuable resources. Fighting to ensure that Jupiter is restored to her rightful place as leader of the Free World is Caine Wise (Channing Tatum), a pointy-eared warrior with a wicked set of skates, who will do whatever it takes to keep Jupiter alive.
Witnessing Jupiter Ascending is like watching someone desperately trying to rescue a burnt roast dinner, with exactly the same level of impending doom and embarrassment. At its best though, it is a sumptuous visual feast that appears unable to be contained within the screen across which it blazes. But for the sheer audacity of creating a film that is so beautiful, baffling, boring and shambolic – often all at precisely the same time – you’ve simply got to hand it to The Wachowskis (The Matrix trilogy, Speed Racer, Cloud Atlas).
Jupiter Ascending is delivered to the screen with such unabashed confidence, style and budget that it almost seems rude to suggest that it hasn’t worked. The many expensive, big action set pieces are so dark and ill-defined that it is often impossible to work out what’s going on.
Tatum, who spends much of his time looking extremely uncomfortable, skates endlessly around the galaxy with his shirt off rescuing the hapless Jupiter, while Redmayne makes the bizarre choice to either whisper or scream his dialogue. Kunis, on the other hand, floats through the story looking as though she hasn’t the faintest idea what’s going on. Which is perfect really, because most of the time neither do we.
This review was commissioned by the West Australian Newspaper Group.
Kingsman: The Secret Service. Rated MA 15+ (strong violence and coarse language). 129 minutes. Directed by Matthew Vaughn. Screenplay by Jane Goldman and Matthew Vaughn. Based on the comic book by Mark Millar and Dave Gibbons.
Verdict: An abundance of violence undermines a potentially great film.
It’s either an incredibly brave or equally naïve creative team who would dare to take on the celebrated spy movie genre, which has been enjoying something of a renaissance with Daniel Craig’s spectacularly produced outings as James Bond in films such as Casino Royale, Quantum of Solace and 2012’s superb Skyfall.
Trust Vaughn (Kick-Ass, X-Men: First Class) to throw caution to the wind and deliver a timely variation on the grand themes associated with espionage, which also packs a mighty punch in relation to the perils of our reliance on our precious mobile phone technology.
When special agent Harry Hart’s (Colin Firth) colleague is murdered during a mission, he visits the man’s widow Michelle (Samantha Womack) and young son to offer his unconditional and life-long support. When the boy, Gary ‘Eggsy’ Unwin (Taron Egerton), grows up to become a troubled teenager desperately trying to help his mother break out of an abusive relationship, Hart returns and offers Eggsy the opportunity to end the relentlessly abusive cycle and make something of his life.
Firth and Egerton are fantastic as the stylish Hart and his protégé, and Kingsman only works as well as it does because of their committed, engaging and enthusiastic performances. Samuel L. Jackson is wickedly entertaining as the lisping villain Richmond Valentine, who plans to solve the problem of climate change by eliminating most of the world’s population via their SIM cards.
The only problem is that if Vaughn wasn’t as convinced that we need as much ultra-violence on screen to make a lasting impression, he would be a film-maker whose films would reward close, and a good deal more devoted, attention.
This review was commissioned by the West Australian Newspaper Group.
Birdman. Rated MA 15+ (strong coarse language). 119 minutes. Directed by Alejandro González Iñárritu. Screenplay by Alejandro González Iñárritu, Nicolás Giacobone, Alexander Dinelaris and Armando Bo.
Verdict: Batman meets Birdman.
Riggan Thomson (Michael Keaton) is famous for playing superhero Birdman in a successful series of films. Desperate to inject his life and career with some artistic integrity, Thomson puts everything he has on the line to write, direct and star in a Broadway play. His Birdman alter ego, however, has other ideas about how easy it is going to be for him leave the much-loved character behind once and for all.
Deep within this hectic collision of style over content lies a fascinating premise. Hollywood stars have long envied their theatre-making colleagues (and vice versa), while famous celebrities appearing in plays can guarantee sold out seasons that run for months. So what are the differences between film and theatre for actors? And why does Thomson believe one ‘star turn’ to be more important than the other?
Birdman, instead, reads and plays like a bad soap opera, and Iñárritu (Babel, 21 Grams) and cinematographer Emmanuel Lubezki’s (Gravity) vision for the film to run as one long, single take simply becomes torturous. There is hardly a moment of stillness or silence, which only reveals a drama so riddled with clichés that it cannot possibly survive any kind of intelligent interrogation.
Keaton, who was obviously cast because he played Batman twice in Tim Burton’s Batman (1989) and Batman Returns (1992), has his moments, and the rest of the cast are obviously working incredibly hard to meet Iñárritu’s gruelling expectations.
But Birdman’s fatal flaw is the scene where the film turns into what is obviously a Birdman film, with spectacular special effects and swooping prehistoric creatures. His alter ego snarls that this is the film that the people want to see. In this case he is, rather unfortunately, absolutely right.
This review was commissioned by the West Australian Newspaper Group.
