Barry Cook and Tony Bancroft direct Ming-Na Wen, Eddie Murphy and BD Wong in this Disney animated classic where a Chinese girl poses as a male warrior the preserve her family’s honour.
The battle sequences have epic sweep, the overall design is pretty lush and Murphy’s chatterbox dragon saves the comedy. I do kinda prefer the live action remake though.
Olivier Megaton directs Liam Neeson, Maggie Grace and Famke Janssen in this action sequel where this time around Bryan Mills and his ex are the one’s kidnapped in Istanbul by the family of the white slaver he judo chopped to death last time around.
Everything that was wrong and forgivable about the sleeper hit is rehashed. The sequence where Maggie Grace lobs grenades off the rooftops of Istanbul has certain demented charm. Hits a spot.
Mamet heaven but Foley knows exactly how to make it feel like a Rolodex hell. The unsung king of the Neo Noir needs no guns, no femme fatales here. You can feel the flop sweat and smell the coffee breath in this. That rain washes away no sins. Alec Baldwin’s one scene motivational wrecking ball might just be the finest one scene character ever. I ain’t telling you nothing new. But Pacino’s shift into sales pitch on a gay-for-him Jonathan Pryce is his last truly sustained piece of subtle acting. AND then you have poor, desperate Jack Lemmon in his career best turn. Every line the poetry of full testicles and empty bank accounts. You all know I hate filmed plays? Fuck you, I hate filmed plays.
Jean-Pierre Jeunet directs Audrey Tautou, Mathieu Kassovitz and Lorella Cravotta in this French classic about a lonely waitress who decides to perform secret acts of vigilante kindness in a whimsical depiction of Montmartre, Paris.
I know Amélie has its detractors who find it twee, reactionary and laboured. I find it comforting. Technically adventurous with a seductively sweet clowning performance by Tautou and one the most lush ‘borrowed’ score by composer Yann Tiersen. If you don’t have any love in your heart for Amélie, then maybe cinema just isn’t for you. The movie equivalent of Eleanor Rigby.
10
Perfect Double Bill: A Very Long Engagement (2004)
Dominic Sena directs Nicolas Cage, Robert Duvall and Giovanni Ribisi in this car heist thriller remake where a crew has to steal a wish list of cars under a very tight deadline.
The director credit might say Dominic Sena but this is very much a Jerry Bruckheimer joint. Insanely stacked overqualified cast, petrol explosion visuals, comedy banter from a dozen script doctors. Cage seems subdued and the highly billed Angelina Jolie seems to wander in and out of the gang whenever it suits her. How did she know to be there at that time? The final car chase delivers what you bought a ticket for.
Paul Schrader directs Joel Edgerton, Sigourney Weaver and Quintessa Swindell in this drama about a gardener with a very dark past who takes on an apprentice.
Same old Schrader but this might be his best meditation on his own strict and extreme personal form. Though I did find it funny when the main character states he hates writing his journal. Weaver is on fire. Watched at the brilliant Grand Action Cinema in Paris.
Terry Gilliam directs Bruce Willis, Madeleine Stowe and Brad Pitt in this time travel head fuck where a damaged man from a post-apocalyptic future travels back to the source date of the epidemic that forces humanity underground… and everyone treats him as if he is crazy… which he may well be.
Vertigo. La Jetée. The Terminator. The Last Battle. One Flew Over The Cuckoo’s Nest. A winning mish-mash of sources and influences – some openly cited; others lurking in the back seat. Yet it coalesces beautifully and becomes its own thing. This contains one of those OTT early Brad Pitt performances that can be quite grating, twitching before he found his inner cool. If I can forgive it in Se7en, then I can forgive it here. When I was a teen 12M really affected me at the cinema. I struggled with its pacing the last time I watched it and took a 10 year break. Here we are now though and the salvaged production design and Willis and Stowe’s frantic but dialled back romance swung it back into “classic status”. It is imperfect but if you are in the right mood, all its tricks and twists and ambiguities are quite powerful. Spoiler: I’m pretty sure the female scientist who appears at the end in the coda scene is there to ensure the epidemic does happen and her future is assured rather than to be a back-up if Cole fails.
Adequate remake that puts some nice spins on the established beats. But lacks star power, the foul mouthed poetry of Shelton’s original screenplay and any kinda urgency. Which is a shame as the main dudes are sweet and have nice chemistry.
Julia Leigh directs Emily Browning, Rachael Blake and Ewen Leslie in this Australian drama where a young woman takes a part-time high-paying job with a mysterious group that caters to rich men who like the company of drugged nude girls.
I watched this on the train from Amsterdam to Munich. And I’m not going to lie it was a terrible selection. Shines a brutal light on the exploitation of the gig economy, comparing pretty much any shift to sex work. Yet it is all quite blank and vacant beyond the blunt politics, both sexual and economic. It is feminist horror but marketed on the opportunity to ogle the doll-like body of Sucker Punch’s Browning. Not sure who gets much of anything from this.
Phil Alden Robinson directs Kevin Costner, Amy Madigan and Ray Liotta in this baseball fantasy where a farmer hears an eerie voice in his crop and follows its instruction to build a baseball field.
I have never studied the exact definition of the literary term ‘magical realism’ but in my head it is this: A fantasy bolted down in the everyday. No elves or magical swords. But pollution free sunsets, the embrace of a true friendship and the feeling you’ve witnessed a parable, seen the hand of some god in the spinning of the yarn. Like beloved Stephen King adaptations The Shawshank Redemption or Stand By Me, this is a backwards looking comfort movie. Not only nostalgic but a tale of escape told through the lens of memory and lost innocence. All three films, all of disparate genres, share a warmth, a mystery and a narration. They work within the oral tradition of storytelling and the connective tradition of the first or second person narrative. I’ve never run along a railway bridge or played opera to a yard full of hardened cons or even been to watch a baseball game. But I understand the power of jumping the rails. Of seeing the way one’s life eventually plays as preset and the zen of taking steps to rebel against the natural flow of time’s gentle but constant moving river. The supernatural moments still give me chills, the comedy still makes me chuckle, the threads of freedom and happiness tie into my personal philosophies, the Dad stuff gets my throat clogged and makes my eyes (almost) dampen. The technical qualities, though unfussy, are flawless. “Is This Heaven? No, It’s Iowa”
Bobby Carroll's Movie Diary 