Film review: Oddball

Oddball. Rated G. 95 minutes. Directed by Stuart McDonald. Screenplay by Peter Ivan.

Based on the true story of Warrnambool chicken farmer Swampy Marsh (played by Shane Jacobson) and Oddball, his Maremma Sheepdog, who together saved a vulnerable penguin colony from complete devastation, Oddball is a delightful little gem of film.

Middle Island, just off the south-western coast of Victoria, is home to a penguin colony that was originally cared for by Swampy’s late wife. Their daughter Emily (Sarah Snook) who inherited her mother’s passion for preserving the penguin colony, is horrified to discover that the population is suddenly being decimated by marauding foxes. If the penguin population falls below ten, the local council plans to shut it down and open a whale-watching visitor centre in its place.

Oddball is introduced as a ‘fairytale’, and the terrific cast play Ivan’s classically structured and involving screenplay for all it’s worth. It’s great to see Jacobson, who first came to prominence in the break-out hit Kenny (2006), on the big screen again, and his performance is pitch perfect. Jacobson is quite possibly one of the most under-rated actors in the country, and his big-hearted Swampy Marsh is a marvellously entertaining character.

Jacobson receives excellent support from Coco Jack Gillies as his granddaughter Olivia, and their shared passion for doing all that it takes to save the penguin colony never feels contrived or anything less than completely genuine. But the undeniable stars of the film are the little cast of penguins, who, courtesy of penguin trainers Katie Brock and John Medland, are guaranteed to waddle and squeak their way into your heart.

Beautifully shot by cinematographer Damian Wyvill, this is a refreshingly unpretentious film, with the perfect blend of comedy, drama and romance that the whole family can simply sit back, relax and enjoy.

This review was commissioned by the West Australian Newspaper Group.

Film Review: Everest

Everest. Rated M (mature themes). 121 minutes. Directed by Baltasar Kormákur. Screenplay by William Nicholson and Simon Beaufoy.

‘Because it’s there!’, a chorus of mountain climbers exclaim when they are asked why they want to climb to the top the world’s highest mountain.

Whether this comparatively short-sighted motivation provides adequate reason for why they choose to take on the well-documented horrors that await them on the ascent and descent from heights ‘equal to the cruising altitude of a 747’ – as their Adventure Consultants tour guide Rob Hall (Jason Clarke) points out – remains a point of conjecture long after the experience of this terrifying film begins to fade.

For someone who finds it hard enough walking up a flight of stairs, Everest is a confronting experience. Armchair Adventurists will also find themselves nodding knowingly at every heavily sign-posted calamity that befalls the ill-fated expedition, which exists of enthusiastic amateurs who are happily escorted, at great expense, to the precipice of life and death.

Within an excellent ensemble, Clarke’s performance as the passionate but ultimately flawed hero is outstanding. When Doug (John Hawkes), a quietly spoken mailman from America who failed to make it to the summit on a previous attempt begs Hall to be allowed to continue, you can see the fear that he might be making the wrong decision written all over his face.

As the less-adventurous guide Guy, whom Hall mocks mercilessly for taking his group on less death-defying climbs, Sam Worthington delivers some of his best work to date. Guy’s conflict between wanting to rescue his close friend while knowing that such an attempt could cost him his own life, is a deeply personal one that lesser actors would struggle to communicate as effectively as Worthington does.

Technically, Everest is a spectacular achievement. Under Kormákur’s inspired direction, cinematographer Salvatore Totino captures every aspect and every angle of the brutally unforgiving environment, while Mick Audsley’s superb editing rarely allows you to draw breath.

This review was commissioned by the West Australian Newspaper Group.

Film Review: Maze Runner: The Scorch Trials

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Maze Runner: The Scorch Trials. Rated M (violence, science fiction themes and sustained threat). 132 minutes. Directed by Wes Ball. Screenplay by T. S. Nowlin. Based on the novel by James Dashner. 

Picking up minutes from where The Maze Runner left us, Thomas (Dylan O’Brien) and his fellow ‘Gladers’ are choppered in to a high-security facility where overseer Janson (Aidan Gillen) assures them they will be safe from harm. 

The facility is free from the effects of ‘the Flare’, the plague that has almost wiped out humanity. It is also apparently safe from the sinister forces of WCKD, the organisation that is hunting the Gladers so their immunity to the Flare virus can be harvested and used to develop a cure.

But when Aris (Jacob Lofland) takes Thomas on a late-night crawl through the facility’s air ducts, the truth of what lies in store for them is revealed. When Thomas makes the decision to escape, the Gladers find themselves at the mercy of Flare-infected Cranks and what remains of a hostile planet.

Ball delivers the gripping horror, suspense and big-action set pieces with supreme confidence, while O’Brien returns to lead an excellent young ensemble with another strong and spirited performance as the leader the hunted Gladers desperately need.

And while the storyline contains little of the ingenuity that made the first film so compelling, Marc Fisichella’s spectacular production design ensures that the many immersive environments in which The Scorch Trials takes place captures and rewards our attention. From decimated cities and derelict shopping malls, to dank tunnel systems, the success of The Scorch Trials is almost entirely about the way it looks.

It is also helped by John Paesano’s thunderingly good score, which not only powers the action, but also contains a thrilling, perfectly timed crescendo that will make you feel like you’re at a symphony orchestra concert.

This review was commissioned by the West Australian Newspaper Group.

Film Review: A Walk In The Woods

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A Walk In The Woods. Rated M (coarse language and sexual references). 105 minutes. Directed by Ken Kwapis. Screenplay by Rick Kerb and Bill Holderman. Based on the book by Bill Bryson.

When author Bill Bryson’s (Robert Redford) disconnection from the world and the people around him results in two very public humiliations, he decides to reconnect with nature, and himself, by hiking the 3,500 km long Appalachian Trail.

His wife Catherine (Emma Thompson) is convinced that the trek is too dangerous alone, so Bryson attempts to have one of his friends come along with him. One by one they refuse, until one of his oldest and forgotten friends, recovering alcoholic Stephen Katz (Nick Nolte), offers to accompany him.

Nostalgia dominates what is essentially a light-hearted stroll along a small section of one of America’s most spectacular scenic trails. Redford, and to a lesser extent Nolte, are cinematic royalty, and all of A Walk In The Woods’ rewards are a result of watching these two old-timers take on not only each other, but also Mother Nature in all her unpredictable glory.

Redford, who has starred in classics such as The Sting, Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, and All The President’s Men to name just three, seems awkwardly uncomfortable for much of his time on screen. There is a level of self-consciousness that sits uneasily on the surface of his performance, as though he is painfully aware that Kwapis and cinematographer John Bailey are determined to capture, in close-up, every intimate detail.

Nolte, though, is simply marvellous as the gruff, big-hearted and seriously out-of-condition Katz. The screenplay provides him with some great lines and all of the comedy, while also providing him with the film’s dramatic highpoint – a scene on a cliff top where he chooses, once and for all, to never touch alcohol again.

This review was commissioned by the West Australian Newspaper Group.

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Film Review: Last Cab to Darwin

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Last Cab to Darwin. Rated M (coarse language and mature themes). 124 minutes. Directed by Jeremy Sims. Screenplay by Reg Cribb and Jeremy Sims.

The collision between cultures and mortality is at the heart of this extraordinary film that features a career-defining performance from Michael Caton, and a fearless, break-through performance from Mark Coles Smith.

Last Cab boasts a cinematic luxury of riches, from Sims’ focussed and insightful direction of a near-flawless screenplay (adapted from Cribb’s play that was based on the true story of Max Bell) to Steve Arnold’s gorgeous cinematography, of which the Outback is the undeniable star.

Rex (Caton) is a taxi driver who has never left Broken Hill. When told he has only months to live, he decides to drive to Darwin where Dr Farmer (Jacki Weaver) is promoting the virtues of voluntary euthanasia, which was legal in the Northern Territory from 1995 until the law was overturned by the Commonwealth Government in 1997.

Leaving behind his mates, his dog, and the love of his life, Polly (a terrific Ningali Lawford-Wolf), Rex begins the long drive north, picking up drifter Tilly (Coles Smith) along the way. As Rex’s health suddenly deteriorates, a backpacking English nurse Julie (Emma Hamilton) joins them to ensure Rex realises his dream of a dignified death.

Of the many complex relationships explored, it is the unexpected one between the defeated, childless and single Rex and the irascible Tilly that is absolutely compelling. Tilly has an abundance of energy and self-destructive attitude, while the ailing Rex is more selective with what he says and why. The scenes they share in ‘the long grass’ are among the film’s finest, matched only by Tilly’s unforgettable charge along an airport runway when, for the first time in the cinema this year, I held my breath.

This review was commissioned by the West Australian Newspaper Group.

Film Review: Southpaw

Southpaw. Rated MA15+ (strong violence and coarse language). 124 minutes. Directed by Antoine Fuqua. Screenplay by Kurt Sutter.

Over the years, the world of boxing has been responsible for a collection of genre and generation defining performances. From Sylvester Stallone in Rocky (1976), Robert De Niro in Raging Bull (1980) and Hillary Swank in Million Dollar Baby (2004), the physically, mentally and emotionally gruelling and highly-disciplined world in which these modern day gladiators exist, has powered some unforgettable cinematic experiences.

In Southpaw, undefeated World Light Heavyweight champion Billy Hope (Jake Gyllenhaal) is beginning to struggle with the rigours of the sport. Billy’s wife Maureen (Rachel McAdams) is concerned that he is being hit in the face more often than he once was, and that their future together with daughter Leila (Oona Laurence) will be forever scarred by the head injuries he is constantly sustaining.

But when tragedy strikes at a glittering fundraising gala, Leila is placed into state care and Billy has only one way of recovering from the devastation. He seeks out the services of renowned trainer and ex-boxer Titus Wills (Forest Whitaker), who he hopes will help him win back both the championship and his beloved daughter.

Sutter’s central trainer/boxing star relationship suffers by comparison to Million Dollar Baby’s extraordinary Clint Eastwood/Hillary Swank combination, and Whitaker (who won the Best Actor Oscar for his performance as Idi Amin in The Last King of Scotland) gets nothing to sink his teeth into.

Fuqua’s (Training Day, The Equalizer) fearless, probing direction delivers some fantastic in-the-moment and in-your-face, literally, sequences. But even with Gyllenhaal’s towering performance as the deeply-flawed Billy, Sutter’s (Sons of Anarchy) surprisingly unadventurous screenplay struggles to shine in the long shadow of its vastly superior siblings.

This review was commissioned by the West Australian Newspaper Group.

Film Review: Mr Holmes

Mr Holmes. Rated M (mature themes). 104 minutes. Directed by Bill Condon. Screenplay by Jeffrey Hatcher. Based on the novel by Mitch Cullin.

Just like the recent Far from the Madding Crowd, but without the literary pedigree, comes this exquisite, contemplative and multi-layered film about a restless, confused and impatient Sherlock Holmes (Ian McKellen) who is facing the end of his days.

In his novel A Slight Trick of the Mind, Cullin’s masterstroke was to place one of the world’s most extraordinary thinkers and problem solvers on the cusp of his own mortality, and Hatcher’s adaptation and Condon’s (The Twilight Saga: BreakingDawn, Dreamgirls, Kinsey, Gods and Monsters) astute and beautifully considered direction, account for the engrossing story perfectly.

It is 1947, and haunted by the outcome of what would be his final case, Holmes returns to his Sussex farmhouse home, where he is cared for by his dutiful, if somewhat resentful, housekeeper Mrs Munro (Laura Linney). Her remarkably mature for his age young son Roger (Milo Parker) is curious about the beehives Holmes tends on the property, as much as he is fascinated by the increasing mental and physical deterioration of his mother’s famous charge.

Concurrently in flashbacks, woven together exquisitely by editor Virginia Katz, the story takes us back to the tragic circumstances of his final, unsolvable case involving Ann (Hattie Morahan) and her husband Thomas (Patrick Kennedy), who are grieving the loss of their two newborn children. The story also takes a less-interesting detour to Japan, where Holmes’ desperate hunt for a miracle cure for his failing mind and body finds him in the ruins of Hiroshima.

The performances from a uniformly outstanding cast are superb, with McKellen, Linney and young Parker in particular, managing to make even the slightest heart-beats of domestic drama feel utterly compelling.

This review was commissioned by the West Australian Newspaper Group.