James Marsh directs Michael Caine, Tom Courtenay and Charlie Cox in this crime caper retelling the downfall of the Hatton Garden jewel thieves, a gang mainly made up of pensioners. 

When news first broke that one of the biggest heists on British soil was perpetrated by greying old lags I said to myself “I bet there’s a great movie in that.” And bless the producers of this starry ensemble they get the casting right. Caine. Courtenay. Ray Winstone. It is a Last Orders reunion movie. Add in Jim Broadbent, Paul Whitehouse and a decrepit Michael Gambon and I bet the makers thought we can just leave the camera running and we’ve got ourselves an instant classic here. Sadly King of Thieves is a film of two halves. The first section with the planning and the caper itself, glides nicely. Marsh lays out his game swiftly, adds a neat visual flourish where the old boy illegal larks are often intercut with similar footage from Swinging Sixties genre films. Then after the robbery things fall apart. It becomes a very loose downfall where old men bitch and gripe about each other behind their own backs. For what feels like hours. Very similar to the recent American Animals we shift from charming naughty enthusiasm to reprehensible anti-socialism in the final stretch. I’m guessing this is less a moral choice. I don’t think Marsh cares about a “crime doesn’t pay” message. I think the creatives had too much access to the real old crims’ statements, confessions and mobile phone transcripts. A by-product of the net closing in on the perpetrators is you no longer have to imagine the legend and the myth, their frailty and nastiness has been documented as evidence. It is a shift in tone the more playful air of the film cannot survive. Worst still there is a better, only briefly explored subplot, where the younger member of the team benefits from their ignorance of modern surveillance and childish back stabbing. He uses their infighting to getaway, their greed to snag a small but ultimately more valuable cut. With his mocked disguises, burner phone and low profile he slips out of the country while the tall tale of bus pass bank robbers fires up the media. Maybe his gaming of the experienced “experts” should have been the focus of the final half. Rather than wrinklies moaning and insulting each other ad nauseam.

6

Peter Segal directs  Adam Sandler, Jack Nicholson and Marisa Tomei in this comedy where a mild mannered guy is forced into anger management therapy where his doctor is an intrusive, disruptive arsehole. 

As a fan of both stars I had high expectations for this pairing but it seems to just go through the motions. There are some fine trailer moments; beating up a Buddhist monk, a traffic jam causing in-car therapy session. Even these don’t exactly produce guffaws though. The film sets up a manic support cast in the group sessions then ignores them for much of the running time. Overall, not much wit. Unambitious and forgettable.

4

Neill Blomkamp directs Sharlto Copley, Jason Cope and David James in this sci-fi actioner about refugee aliens in South Africa who find themselves oppressed by a corporation dispossessing them from their ghetto. 

I always want to like District 9 more than I actually do. It is an experience whose better qualities stay with you afterwards, even though watching it in the moment is an uneven jerky ride. Good stuff first. The immediacy of Blomkamp’s documentary introduction; retelling the history of the “prawns” arrival, their horrific treatment and the brutal day they are evicted from their hovels… an event that kickstarts the remaining action. The transformation of penpushing middle management stooge Wikus from cowardly arsehole to cowardly arsehole alien has shades of Trading Places satire and lashing of Cronenbergian body horror. Nice. The space craft, creature and weaponary design is truly iconic. Yet the story flows in unsteady bursts. Nightmare scenarios crop up from nowhere (good) or violent tangents distract us from getting involved with the end game (symptomatic). While Copley puts in a fine, mannered performance, his character is far too much of a shit. The trials he goes through are far too heinous. There’s no relatability for us to connect to him or care about his outcome. Emotionally it is all too scrappy and dirty to become a mainstay in my viewing habits. Preachy and exploitative, manipulative yet distracted.

7

Bennett Miller directs Philip Seymour Hoffman, Catherine Keener and Clifton Collins Jr. in this biopic where the flamboyant writer researches and writes about a rural multiple homicide. 

As a showcase for Hoffman this gives him time to shine. He captures Capote’s ability to command a room and inveigle his way into the trust of closed off figures with elan and brio. The rest of the film is turgid though. About an hour in it gets stuck in a terminal loop of prison visits and appeals which shudderingly stall the story. Miller directs solidly but there are only hints of the forceful visual seduction he would later bring to his masterpiece Moneyball.

4

Woody Allen directs himself, Diane Keaton and Tony Roberts in this Oscar winning romantic comedy about a writer remembering his relationship that fell apart. 

Annie Hall starts really bitty and even ropey. There’s great stuff in that first half hour… Allen’s warped childhood memories and moments of fourth wall breaking. But it all seems to be delaying, circling like a weary boxer even, what he wants to get to. Letting the clock run down so he can look over a failed relationship as quickly as possible. Like pulling a plaster off swiftly over an hour. Reveal his controlling behaviour and disappointment that he lost something he can never find again. The jokes are still there. They are sometimes delightfully experimental (subtitled doubts while flirting), other times broad (cocaine sneeze). But it is the loss we are left with. Allen looking at us dead on as another girlfriend / actress can not recreate the magic of the earlier scene with the lobsters.  Empty seats in a cafe, the traffic moving on uncaringly. “Seems like old times.” Diane Keaton at her best, broad rim hat and waistcoat, you’d want to make a break-up movie too.

9

Lots of directors direct Seth Green, Lorenza Izzo and Jocelin Donahue in this horror anthology based around days where you might receive a card.

Only the creepy Father’s Day and Easter segments stand out. Fast forward to them and then tap out. The rest are dross and filler with a particularly nasty Kevin Smith entry bringing the par down.

4

 

Bart Layton directs Barry Keoghan, Evan Peters and Blake Jenner in this true crime story of bored students who plan a rare book heist worth $12 million.

Visually experimental and dropping in not just talking heads but the ghostly presences of the real life thieves into narrative scenes, Bart Layton makes American Animals stand out. It is an aggressive and memorable piece of filmmaking. I have to admit I enjoyed it more during camaraderie of the planning stages rather than during the nauseous fallout of the crime. It is hard to feel sorry for people so morally bankrupt, even their “guilt” feels like a calculated survival technique rather than a genuine emotion. The movie hints at bigger themes. A youth abandoned to replicating other generations’ past glories. They’d rather homage a fake life of crime movies and lost adrenaline now the world has been tamed and their place in society is mudanely set. American Animals didn’t entirely seduce me but I’m keen to rewatch.

7

Shane Black directs Boyd Holbrook, Olivia Munn and Thomas Jane in this sci-fi action sequel where the alien “bass fisherman” of genre legend takes on a bunch of mentally unstable veterans, a kid with Asperger’s, a sexy expert, a government conspiracy and a bungalow sized security guard from his home planet. 

There are two ways you can approach this particular Predator movie. 1. Like a dickhead who has watched too many Cinema Sins YouTube clips. Or 2. As a fan who accepts for every tight ensemble special effects thriller with Arnie, you get 5 or so yardie versus cartel, Adrien Brody as an action hero, please stop adding Aliens, beer and a pizza sequels. Crack open a crate, call Papa Johns… as Schwarzenegger is not in this one.

Lowering your standards means you can accept this for what it is… a series of silly, cool, gory, silly moments strung together with a bare shoestring of a plot. Not “There’s something out there and it ain’t no man” mythic but certainly on a par with the dreadlocked slaughterer who loop pedals kids saying “Want some candy?” I love me some Predator 2. I really like me some Predators. The Predator comes in at the lower end of the quality scale of that last one. But only just lower. Acceptably lower.

There are undeniable problems. Some of the second half CGI is rushed and ropey… but I’m never a fan of CGI I can notice. The Predators seem to abandon their long established modus operandi and let easily killable humans with weapons survive quite a lot in the middle section. There’s kinda, sort of a narrative reason for this but it still doesn’t sit well within the philosophy of the franchise. Some of the set pieces are overly dark and chaotically edited. One major character dies in the blurry background and I had to check Wikipedia when I got home to see if he actually did meet his maker.

There are other cast members and subplots abandoned by reshoots (what happens to Gary Busey’s son, the FBI Agent who collects Munn’s scientist, Yvonne Strahovski’s house arrested Mum and what is going on with that Jacob Tremblay obsessed normal dog?) but not as many loose strands and plot holes as the critics’ review suggests. Shane Black has always been a fan of coincidences and half mentioned asides motoring entire plots. As beloved as Lethal Weapon, Kiss Kiss Bang Bang and The Nice Guys are, their mysteries are rushed and coincidental to the action. A second watch smooths out a lot of what seems like random occurrences. That happens here also.

No… Holbrook’s lead doesn’t dumbly directly send his son alien tech, the PO box subscription he hides it at runs out. Olivia Munn isn’t just in the mix for sexist reasons. Munn clearly adds some glamour to the proceedings but she does figure out major plot points that move things forward, gets funny lines and is an active combatant in the set pieces. She’s not just tits in a lab coat. Yes, the tall predator and his dogs are a bit ridiculous looking but they fit in with the caste system and ecology suggested by Robert Rodriguez’s threequel. The final coda teeing up a continuation you know damn well will never be explored is awkward. Neither will that intriguing pirate’s musket that ends 2 or the fate of Brody and Braga’s off world mercs. It is this particular franchises style that we end on a glimpse of a greater narrative just before the credits roll, one that is never revived in sequels. Did Arnie’s Dutch retire, recuperate or was sectioned after the end of Episode 1? It is not that kinda of series. Homage is paid (did I mention Jake Busey plays Gary Busey’s son in this?) to the past but cliffhangers aren’t revisited.

So The Predator is messy, even a little obvious reshoot incoherent on a first watch. Who cares about clean? I for one didn’t turn up to a Predator flick for neatness. I turned up to watch cool stuff happen in a bad taste adult environment. The first half builds nicely. Space chase gives way to Holbrook’s sniper being introduced mid mission in a kinetic cold open. By the time he’s on the run with alien tech in his backpack and tequila on his mind, I was sold. He’s been good before in Logan but here he projects a capability and a goofyness that reminded me of Mel Gibson at his best. He undersells Black’s frenetic, foul mouthed dialogue nicely. I’m keen to see what he does next. Black’s witty and dirty approach of constant banter works for me. It works for his better-than-B-movie standard cast too; giving Sterling K Brown, Munn and Strahovski brighter moments to shine here than more prestigious projects their agents have forced on them recently ever did. Trevante Rhodes has brilliant chemistry with everyone he interacts with. Thomas Jane’s Tourette’s suffering basket case is the highlight though. 10 years ago, he’d have been the go to lead for this sort of reboot. Now he gets to play the most offensive, adorable, ass kicking support character with no pressure. Kudos for stealing a very crowded and busy show.

The carnage is here too. There are two cracking, prolonged swathes of action. All the characters cross paths early on. There’s a joy in watching a Predator tearing up an installation while Munn and the Loonies try to escape being permanently redacted. And the grand finale where the survivors have to stop a Predator spaceship from leaving Earth moves briskly and plays nicely with the warped physics of forcefields and crashing UFOs. All the skirmishes in between are chunky and meaty too. There’s enough glowing green blood and spattering red blood to justify the swearing and the hard R legacy.

As for dafter moments involving an explosion at Halloween, a thumbs up with a severed arm, a Predator dog playing fetch… all stuff that would been a two page “comedy” moment in a Dark Horse comic book in 1990s. This ain’t serious, this ain’t Shakespeare. It is however bonkers and enjoyable. Park your brain at the door, your expectations with Carl Weathers and devour the most ludicrous Predator entry yet. Like the derided Justice League or Tom Cruise’s The Mummy proved, just because a botched movie is very easy to slate doesn’t mean said movie can’t still be crudely pleasurable. “I’m Gonna Have Me Some Fun… Have Me Some Fun!”

6

Frank Sinatra directs himself, Clint Walker and Tatsuya Mihashi in this WWII parable about a Japanese and an American set of soldiers abandoned on an island together.

Sinatra’s only work as a director is a relaxed and prepossessing affair. He gives equal light, screentime and sympathy to the Japanese battalion, even allowing room for their culture and customs to shine through. There’s a couple of duff performances in the ensemble and it ain’t exactly subtle but all in all this is a decent little anti-war movie.

7

Franco Rosso directs Brinsley Forde, Trevor Laird and Karl Howman in this tale of a young black British man struggling with prejudices in Thatcher’s London. 

The acting isn’t going to win any BAFTAs… but that aside Babylon is an evocatively shot (Chris Menges is DoP) and thoughtfully insightful youth drama. Excellent dub soundtrack and derelict London locations.

8