Film Review: American Hustle

American Hustle. Rated M (frequent coarse language). 138 minutes. Directed by David O. Russell. Written by David O. Russell and Eric Singer.

Verdict: A fashionable account of a very ordinary tale.

The trust gained as a result of successful collaboration can create memorable screen outings – films that function on an entirely different level, purely because the artists involved understand each other’s creative processes in ways that those working together for the first time might not. The pairing of Lauren Bacall and Humphrey Bogart is just one classic example, where audiences flocked to watch them regardless of what they were doing.

Russell (Silver Linings Playbook, The Fighter, I Heart Huckabees, Three Kings) obviously values the art of collaboration with his actors. In American Hustle, he is reunited with Christian Bale and Amy Adams (The Fighter) and Bradley Cooper, Jennifer Lawrence, and Robert De Niro (Silver Linings Playbook). And the dividends it pays are great – for Lawrence, in particular, whose performance in a secondary role as con-man Irving’s (Bale) disenchanted wife, is stunning. Lawrence is one of the most singularly interesting actors at work on film today, and if her Katniss Everdeen re-wrote the rules of engagement for onscreen heroines, then this performance reveals an extraordinary, big-hearted versatility.

The only problem is that the story about Irving and his partner in business and romance Sydney Prosser (Adams) falling for an FBI sting against a politician Carmine Polito (a never entirely comfortable Jeremy Renner) – led by rogue agent Richie DiMaso (Cooper being zany again) – just doesn’t have the legs to last its long running time. Sydney-born and NIDA-trained costume designer Michael Wilkinson contributes a magnificent array of costumes that not only perfectly encapsulate the late 1970s/early 1980s era in which the film is set, but are more often than not the most memorable onscreen element. And when you are not marvelling at how great everyone looks and Lawrence’s performance, there’s the soundtrack, which boasts a songbook of greatest hits from the era.

This review was commissioned by the West Australian Newspaper Group.

Film Review: The Hangover Part III

The Hangover Part III. Rated MA 15+ (strong coarse language, nudity and crude humour). 100 minutes. Directed by Todd Phillips. Screenplay by Todd Phillips and Craig Mazin.

Verdict: The Hangover series limps over the finish line.

It often pays not to have high expectations for the cinematic delights a film promises to deliver. ‘The buzz’, such as it was, for this third and final instalment of Phillips’ Hangover trilogy, was keen anticipation for how the creators would farewell the characters we had come to know, love and instantly recognise within ourselves and people we know. Sadly, this vacant, somnambulic offering is not so much a finale, than it is a slowly deflating balloon that only ends up making you question how they got it so right the first (and arguably the second) time around.

When Alan (Zach Galifianakis) agrees to go into rehab, Phil (Bradley Cooper), Stu (Ed Helms) and Doug (Justin Bartha) agree to drive him there. Travelling across country, they are run off the road by a gang of pig-mask-wearing thugs who are working for a gangster called Marshall (John Goodman). Marshall, who has had his gold bullion stolen by the irascible Mr Chow (Ken Jeong), takes Doug hostage until the guys can find Chow and the gold and bring them to him.

This flimsy premise simply doesn’t stand up to too much interrogation, and much of the time is spent waiting for Phillips and Co to go for broke. Jeong, who has always been the touchstone for the series’ appallingly bad taste, is catapulted into leading man territory here, and it just doesn’t work. Neither does the dramatic tenor of Phillips and Mazin’s pedestrian screenplay, which even with the presence of the brilliant but wasted Goodman, appears to have absolutely nothing further to add to the exploits of the first two films.

It is easy to imagine why the film-makers thought it might be an interesting idea to depart from the hugely-successful formula of the first two films. What they have replaced it with, however, is a kind of inert, soap-operatic dramedy that, with the exception of a fine funeral sequence early on, falls flat and never recovers. The final conceit is a post-credits scene that is the film we wish they’d made – and why they didn’t will forever have to remain an unforgivable mystery.

This review was commissioned by the West Australian Newspaper Group.

Film Review: Silver Linings Playbook

Silver Linings Playbook. Rated M (mature themes, coarse language, sexual references and violence). 122 minutes. Written and directed by David O Russell. Based on the novel by Matthew Quick.

Verdict: One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest meets Strictly Ballroom.

Hot on the heels of Flight’s compelling study of alcohol and drug dependency comes an equally difficult, but less successful, study of living with mental health issues. Russell’s respectful screenplay is, admirably, completely lacking in sensationalism. It is more concerned with how extraordinary circumstances can impact on the lives of ordinary people. But even ordinary people can rise to previously unscaleable heights to take on the challenges – perilously high stakes that are not in play in Silver Linings Playbook.

Film Review: The Hangover Part II

The Hangover Part II. Rated MA15+ (strong sexual references, nudity, coarse language and drug use). 95 minutes. Directed by Todd Phillips. Screenplay by Craig Mazin, Scot Armstrong and Todd Phillips.

As Stu (Ed Helms) finally prepares to marry the beautiful Lauren (Jamie Chung) in Thailand, he wisely avoids having another buck’s party and, instead, settles for a quiet beer (just one) around the fire on the nearby beach with his friends Phil (Bradley Cooper), Alan (Zach Galifianakis), Doug (Justin Bartha) and Lauren’s younger ‘boy-genius’ brother Teddy (Mason Lee) who have all made the trip to the resort in Thailand for the big event. But their calm and nostalgic seaside reminiscence of their big hangover weekend in Vegas are quickly shattered when they find themselves waking up in a sleazy hotel room in Bangkok – with no sign of the precious young Teddy.

Sequels of any kind are often peculiar beasts – and, at first glance, this follow-up to the box office smash The Hangover (2009) certainly has its share of peculiarities. Phillips and his team have made no effort whatsoever to change the blueprint – with Bangkok replacing Las Vegas and Teddy replacing the hapless Doug. Bewildered girlfriends still wait anxiously by the telephone for updates and the good old ‘race-against-time’ formula kicks in right on cue.

What works undeniably, however, is the simple fact that it’s just nothing less than great fun spending yet another ridiculously high-stakes 24 hours in the company of our impossibly irresponsible friends. Didn’t they learn anything in Vegas?!

Helms, Cooper and Galifianakis throw themselves into the tasks at hand with sheer abandon, but it is the re-introduction of Ken Jeong as the outrageous Mr Chow that absolutely sets the tone for all this movie will be. The Hangover’s unexpected bromance-inspired heart and soul of friends bonding for life in extraordinary circumstances is banished – replaced by a crueller, in-your-face through-line of humiliation that often just seems as though Phillips is more determined to ‘push the envelope’ than understand why we cared as much as we did about his characters the first time around.

But ultimately, we do – thanks in no small way to the big star of this film, Bangkok. Revealing itself to be a city of spectacular contradictions, it instantly rises to the occasion to become more than a match for our fearless, fun-loving friends – who, in some strange way, we hope will never grow up. Which is more than likely the point.

This review was commissioned by the Geraldton Newspaper Group.

Film Review: Limitless

Limitless. Rated M (drug themes, violence, sexual references and infrequent coarse language). 105 minutes. Directed by Neil Burger. Screenplay by Leslie Dixon. Based on the novel The Dark Fields by Alan Glynn.

If you’ve ever relied on more than one good, old-fashioned pain relief tablet to get you through the tasks at hand, you’ll find much to relate to in this big, brash and brassy tale about down-on-his-luck writer Eddie Morra (Bradley Cooper) who stumbles onto a wonder-drug that catapults him to the very pinnacle of success.

The breath-draining opening credits more than successfully set the mood, the tone and the pace of all that is to follow – with Burger (The Illusionist) and cinematographer Jo Willems (30 Days of Night, Hard Candy) matching their hero’s altered state(s) of mind with an occasionally dazzling range of visual styles and technologically-inspired transformations.

Editors Tracy Adams and Naomi Geraghty (Hotel Rwanda, The Illusionist) successfully set a punishing pace early on, but as Dixon’s (Mrs Doubtfire, Overboard, Outrageous Fortune) screenplay begins to run out of puff, there is the distinct feeling that the filmmakers, equally, have run out of ideas. Unlike the brilliantly layered Inception which escorted us to the very depths of fascinating psychological and emotional conflict, Limitless ends up with chronic delusions of intrigue – failing to find its place in the reality-warping, mind-bending recesses of an intriguing mind.

Australian-born Abbie Cornish (Somersault, Candy, Bright Star) delivers a fine turn as Eddie’s ex-girlfriend Lindy, while Robert De Niro doesn’t get much of a stretch in his role as businessman Carl van Loon. Anna Friel, on the other hand, walks away with the acting honours with a neat little cameo as Eddie’s recovering drug-addicted ex-wife.

Peculiarly, once it’s all over, it’s impossible to decide precisely what the filmmakers intended to share with us regarding the ethical dilemmas associated with their particular morality tale of drug-induced excesses. And as it already limps off into the distant recesses of my memory, I can’t shake the feeling that I have just sat through a very smartly made movie about Mr Cooper’s classic matinee-movie-idol persona – with which this movie is afflicted to near-overdose levels. Problematically for all concerned, behind all the glossy surfaces there appears to be absolutely nothing of any real interest.

This review was commissioned by the Geraldton Newspaper Group.