Film Review: The Butler

The Butler. Rated M (mature themes, violence and coarse language). 132 minutes. Directed by Lee Daniels. Written by Danny Strong.

Verdict: A finely wrought drama about realising why and when to make a stand.

With Precious (2009), his blistering tale of privilege, abuse, poverty and ambition, Daniels delivered a compelling drama about difference. With The Butler, (loosely based Will Haywood’s Washington Post article about 89-year-old Eugene Allen who worked as a butler to eight American Presidents in the White House for 30 years), the drama is considerably less compelling, but certainly as profound.

Strong’s screenplay takes too many liberties with the origins of the story, and bundles every fictionalised dramatic highpoint up into a neat little package. The result is that the epic sweep of the story becomes more like a montage of conflict-driven snapshots – a series of hastily scribbled postcards from inside the American capital rather than a deeper engagement with one man’s unique perspective on the advancement of civil rights.

Forest Whittaker (The Last King of Scotland) is excellent as (the re-named) Cecil Gaines, delivering a performance of exceptional power, grace and humility. As the family and political conflict swirls around him, Whittaker’s Gaines wages an invisible war with his own conscience. When his conscience finally defeats his sense of duty, it is as fine a scene as we have witnessed in the cinema this year.

If you can get past the familiarity of Oprah Winfrey’s television talk show host persona, hers is an equally fine performance as Gloria Gaines, Cecil’s loyal (to a point) wife, who wages her own internalised struggle with her husband’s perceived position of immense privilege with which he appears to do nothing. As she watches her eldest son Louis (an excellent David Oyelowo) risk his life as a political activist, Winfrey absolutely nails Gloria’s constant (and equally duty bound) battle to hold to the love and respect she feels for her husband.

Daniels certainly takes his time telling this fascinating story. And what it lacks in the passion and brilliance of Daniels’s own Precious or Alan Parker’s Mississippi Burning (1988), it makes up for with its quiet contemplation about how people with different points of view can find common ground and change the world.

This review was commissioned by the West Australian Newspaper Group.

Film Review: Thor: The Dark World

Thor: The Dark World. Rated M (action violence). 112 minutes. Directed by Alan Taylor. Screenplay by Christopher Yost, Christopher Markus and Stephen McFeely.

Verdict: A severe case of thunder-less sequelitis.

If there is a constant dilemma in our wonderful world of cinema, it’s the catalogue of problems associated with ‘making the sequel’. In the case of this follow-up to the terrific Thor (2011), those problems are many and obvious – resulting in an unsatisfying outing in the company of Chris Hemsworth’s love-struck God of Thunder.

Equal parts romantic comedy and Star Wars/Lord of the Rings wannabe, The Dark World begins with Thor’s bitter nemesis Loki (Tom Hiddleston) disinherited and locked away for the rest of his life by the stroppy Odin (Anthony Hopkins). Meanwhile, on Earth, Thor’s clever girlfriend Jane (Natalie Portman) stumbles upon a mysterious portal where she becomes consumed by the powerful substance ‘Aether’, which the evil Dark Elf Malekith (Christopher Eccleston) wants so that he and his Dark Elf warriors can destroy everyone and everything.

Markus (Captain America: The First Avenger, The Chronicles of Narnia films) and his collaborators have fashioned a superhero-by-the-numbers screenplay that, while boasting some welcome comedic banter, remains steadfastly ordinary.

Taylor (episodes of Sex and the City, The Sopranos, Mad Men, Game of Thrones) follows suit, and with the exception of a brilliant slap-down sequence involving Thor, Malkeith and some inter-planetary trickery, The Dark World never manages to feel as though it’s holding together. It is helped by some flashy visual effects (particularly a powerful funeral sequence), and Thor’s home planet of Asgard is superbly realised by production designer Charles Wood (Wrath of the Titans).

Hemsworth, once again, looks every inch the part but suffers as a result of the script’s many inane moments and sloppy pacing, while Hiddleston clearly relishes his return as the entertaining Loki. The sequences on Earth play out with an almost moribund sense of familiarity that it becomes impossible to take any of it seriously.

This review was commissioned by the West Australian Newspaper Group

Film Review: Captain Phillips

Captain Phillips. Rated M (mature themes and violence). 134 minutes. Directed by Paul Greengrass. Screenplay by Billy Ray, based on A Captain's Duty by Richard Phillips.

Verdict: It might have been wiser to sail with the pack.

If it’s light and breezy distraction you’re after, then bypass this uptight and intense thriller about cargo ship Captain Richard Phillips (Tom Hanks) and his unfortunate crew as they battle for survival against a band of marauding Somalian pirates, led by the rather optimistically named Muse (Barkhad Abdi).

Phillips’s autobiographical account is embroiled in controversy, with many of the crew involved in legal action against the ship’s owner – the Maersk Line – for what they claim was dereliction of duty. The only nod to Phillips’ alleged lapse of judgment is the pirates discovering his ship is charting a course closer to the Somalian coastline than the rest of the vessels all sailing the same route – a fact that apparently informed their decision to attack it.

Anyone involved in primary industry knows the most direct trade route is the most desirable, and with faith in the water cannons onboard used to sink rickety old pirate boats, some token security drills and rusty old padlocks, Phillips takes his chances. Whether you blame him will depend on how much you end up admiring the tenacity of the opportunistic Somalians, for who Ray’s (The Hunger Games, Flightplan) screenplay provides millions of dollars worth of motivation.

Greengrass’s (Green Zone, The Bourne Ultimatum, United 93, The Bourne Supremacy) and cinematographer Barry Ackroyd’s (Green Zone, The Hurt Locker, United 93) hand-held camera in confined spaces technique comes to the fore early and never lets up. The result is a powerful, if relentless, study of motivation, brilliantly edited by Christopher Rouse (Green Zone, The Bourne Ultimatum, United 93, The Bourne Supremacy).

This review was commissioned by the West Australian Newspaper Group.

Film Review: Rush

Rush. Rated MA 15+ (injury detail and coarse language). 122 minutes. Directed by Ron Howard. Screenplay by Peter Morgan.

Verdict: A riveting tale about knowing why, and when, to stop.

Some films, on paper at least, simply shouldn’t work – and this relatively obscure story about Formula 1 drivers James Hunt (Chris Hemsworth) and Niki Lauda (Daniel Brühl) is a classic example. Locked in a death-defying battle over 30 years ago for racetrack supremacy, the English Hunt and the Austrian Lauda are like chalk and cheese. One (Hunt) is a privileged playboy, hell-bent on instant gratification and any cost, while the other is a master of self-discipline who believes that any kind of off-circuit, self-serving indulgences only disrespect the spirit of the sport.

In the hands of anyone else but Howard, it’s difficult to imagine this film being as engaging as it is. The time, like the cars, flies by, and just as he did with the fantastic A Beautiful Mind (2001) and Frost/Nixon (2008), Howard focuses closely and unwaveringly on the human condition and delivers a thrilling tale of tenacious and uncompromising rivalry.

Howard has built his directorial reputation by masterfully crafting character-driven films – stories about people experiencing life-changing events that require extraordinary, almost super-human responses (Cocoon, Backdraft, Apollo 13), but without the capes, shields and assorted gimmicks. Morgan (Frost/Nixon, The Queen, The Last King of Scotland) is the perfect match for Howard’s deceptively modest storytelling ambitions, and his excellent screenplay is all lean, uncluttered cinematic torque.

Anthony Dod Mantle’s (127 Hours, Slumdog Millionaire, The Last King of Scotland) cinematography will delight race fans, especially since no facet of the engineering masterpieces Formula 1 cars are (or what it takes to drive one) is left unexplored. Mark Digby’s (Dredd, Slumdog Millionaire) production design beautifully recreates the 1970s, with outstanding attention to colour and detail.

Hemsworth (who is undeniably on a roll) and Brühl (Good Bye Lenin!, Inglourious Basterds) are both excellent as the leads, and it is a credit to everyone involved that as you walk away from the cinema, it might be almost impossible to decide who, if anyone, really won.

This review was commissioned by the West Australian Newspaper Group.

Film Review: 2 Guns

2 Guns. Rated MA 15+ (strong violence). 109 minutes. Directed by Baltasar Kormákur. Screenplay by Blake Masters, based on the graphic novels by Steven Grant.

Verdict: Denzel and Mark are the new Oscar and Felix.

It should probably be illegal to have this much fun in the face of such reckless slaughter, but Masters’ (Law & Order: LA) excellent screenplay boasts an almost obscene amount of comedy – delivered with absolute relish and megawatts of star power by Denzel Washington and Mark Wahlberg.

When undercover Drug Enforcement Administration officer Robert Trench (Washington) and his co-conspirator Michael Stigman (Wahlberg) are easily able to carry off a daring bank robbery that was supposed to end very differently, they find themselves on the run and caught up in an endless web of double-crossing and intrigue. As the motives of everyone involved become increasingly murky, Trench and Stigman have little choice but to match wits and try to stay one step ahead of the people who want them dead.

It’s not surprising that Wahlberg has teamed up with the Icelandic-born Kormákur again after their collaboration on Contraband (2012). Kormákur, like very few directors, manages to elicit a fantastic performance from Wahlberg, who responds with an engaging, often hilarious star turn that is brimming with confidence. Washington, too, fresh from his magnificent performance in Flight (2012), romps through as the police officer who inadvertently finds himself on the wrong side of the law.

The outstanding ensemble, including Paula Patton (Mission: Impossible – Ghost Protocol, Precious), Bill Paxton (Titanic) and Edward James Olmos (Dexter), all provide excellent support to the two leads. Paxton (as ruthless CIA operative Earl) and Olmos (drug lord Papi Greco), who are both equally determined to recover their money at any cost, succeed in ramping up the stakes every time they are onscreen.

Like Quentin Tarantino, Kormákur and Masters refuse to take any prisoners, and it’s a credit to them and their two stars, that we hope these rascals live to see another day. They certainly deserve to.

This review was commissioned by the West Australian Newspaper Group.

Film Review: Gravity

Gravity. Rated M (survival themes, disturbing images and coarse language). 91 minutes. Directed by Alfonso Cuarón. Screenplay by Alfonso Cuarón and Jonás Cuarón.

Verdict: A majestic, actor-proof cinematic tour de force.

There is no denying the visual majesty of this extraordinary cinematic achievement that, if nothing else, will restore your faith in the scope, scale and potential of cinema as an artform. Unlike so many theatrical releases so far this year, waiting for Gravity to come out on DVD would be pointless – such is its magnificent visual and aural impact on the big screen. In 3D it is, quite simply, astonishing, and the most complete and effective use of the technology since Avatar.

As space shuttle astronauts Ryan Stone (Sandra Bullock), Matt Kowalski (George Clooney) and Shariff (voiced by Paul Sharma) are undertaking a space walk to service the Hubble Space Telescope, Mission Control in Houston (voiced by Ed Harris) warns them that debris from a destroyed Russian satellite is heading their way.

Stone (who is on her first mission) hesitates to follow the veteran Kowalski’s orders to return to the shuttle immediately, and the high-speed debris slams into them, causing them to become untethered from not only each other, but also any form of structure. With her supply of oxygen running low, Stone must somehow make it to the relative safety of the International Space Station, and from there, Earth.

Alfonso Cuarón (Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban. Children of Men) and cinematographer Emmanuel Lubezki (The Tree of Life, Children of Men) deliver one visually ravishing scene after another to the screen with rare cinematic grandeur, to the point where it becomes easy to ignore Cuarón’s script (co-written with his son Jonás), which clunks along mindlessly.

Sandra Bullock makes the most out of the deep-space drama she has to work with, while the goofy Clooney mis-reads his role entirely. Thankfully, you don’t go to Gravity for the acting. You go to see and hear how stunning cinema can be when the artists behind the camera dare to dream big and loud.

This review was commissioned by the West Australian Newspaper Group.