Abi Damaris Corbin directs John Boyega, Michael Kenneth Williams and Nicole Beharie in this true story where a former Marine suffering from PTSD holds a bank hostage when a missed payment leaves him destitute.
Well intentioned but never really picks up any pace. Boyega stretches himself with a dramatic role but the movie’s overall intention is hand wringing mawk rather than satire or tension.
Matt Johnson directs Jay Baruchel, Glen Howerton and Cary Elwes in this big business drama based on the true story of the Canadian tech firm who produced the first popular smartphone.
Modern nostalgia. Kind of like The Social Network’s dishevelled, desperate, middle aged cousin. A pitch perfect villain in Howerton. The movie takes witty pleasure in bullet pointing his inevitable self destruction. The comedy actor does ego driven megalomaniacal shits like no else. All the corporate downfall and comeuppance seems justified as presented here but there’s a continual tinge of sadness. They did have the better product but fashion trumped quality.
Jeff Nichols directs Jodie Comer, Austin Butler and Tom Hardy in this true crime drama centring on a decade in the life of a motorcycle club that shifts from loutish rowdiness to deadly criminal activity.
Nichols finally delivers on all the outmoded promise he was fronting ten to fifteen years ago. Back then, if he made The Bikeriders it might be easy to dismiss as a greasy, low key Goodfellas tribute. Murder, betrayal, tragedy, tribal codes, historically accurate jukebox soundtrack. These days adult violent tough guy cinema is so rare it plays like an extinct bird taking final graceful flight. Hard cock, tough cum, swinging balls cinema embattled by snark, fakery and vanilla ratings.
Nichols captures the seduction and the lawlessness of the life. For a movie that is always on the move we are anchored to five or six oft-revisited locations and I reckon there’s an intentional metaphor in that. We are stuck there – sharing the thrills, the wrecks and the camaraderie. Finds laughs, gracenotes within all the threat and aggression. It is a yarn told like a yarn over a series of interviews, mainly with Comer’s grating and constantly mannered old lady. If you aren’t thrown by her full fat acting then… well…. she’s right next to Hardy for most of the flick and you could hardly call what he’s doing restrained or naturalistic either. It is a movie that understands outsider cool. You feel every swig of beer, every throb of an engine and every wounding impact. The tribe, The Vandals, is well sketched with bold personalities. Michael Shannon is gifted a few scenes where he literally slaps the Academy voting body around the face for a time. Let’s hope the bruises still sting in 8 months time. For middle aged character actors this a jamboree of masculinity. All in dirty leather drag. Yum yum.
And then there are two wonderful scenes amid all the inevitable descent into hell. Two fantastic interactions between Hardy and Butler. One lit by campfire, the glowing outline of their faces almost snogging as they reach an accord in the darkness over minutes of uncut monologue. Later, a black mirror scene where the same ground is covered yet now they don’t share a shot, the lighting is flat and stark, the editing to keep them separate constant. It owes something to Marty, something to Thelma but Nichols is his own thing. Vroom vroom.
July Jung directs Kim Si-Eun, Bae Doona and Choi Hee-jin in this Korean drama following a teenage intern who tries to survive the dehumanising work practices and exploitative systems at a call centre.
Heavy handed, didactic procedural that rings true and lands a flurry of ice cold punches in the second half. The whole earnest endeavour is buoyed by Kim Si-Eun’s tough / fragile Sohee.
Robert Bresson directs Martin LaSalle, Marika Green and Pierre Leymarie in this French arthouse drama about a man who turns to petty crime to test his philosophies about man and society.
He meets many men in cafes and forms instant intimacies. Every theft is a seduction of touch, an erotic invasion of space. Surprised this isn’t considered a queer coded classic. Such a huge strand of DNA in Paul Schrader’s creative vision that it feels like I have watched this before. But I easily prefer Schrader to Bresson.
Barbet Schroeder directs Sandra Bullock, Ryan Gosling and Michael Pitt in this psychological thriller where two high school students attempt the “perfect murder” but one tough but damaged detective sees through their scheme.
Sandy playing against type and she doesn’t do an awful job of it. There’s one punch pulled. If they really wanted to make her complex, up the stakes and define what a walking disaster area her tough cookie is then she should have fucked her teen suspect when it was there on a plate. Baby faced Babyduck with blue balls from Bullock! That aside… More a How-You-Catch-Em than a Whodunnit. Went down pretty easy as multiplex filler back in the day and went down pretty easy again as a Saturday night special. I use the “special” word with caution. There ain’t particularly anything groundbreaking here. The Leopold and Loeb stuff has been explored by better movies decades ago. Pitt and Gosling are only adequate composites at this nascent stage of their respective careers. There’s little memorable about Murder By Number but it does the job with minimal flair. The title ends up being prophetic.
Michael Patrick Jann directs Kirsten Dunst, Ellen Barkin and Brittany Murphy in this mockumentary following a beauty contest where foul play is afoot.
And… Amy Adams. Allison Janney. Kirstie Alley. A fantastic female dominated cast and some good jokes. The wet paint dance routine gag is a corker. Does become a bit repetitive and then sinfully goes on for too long. Yet the sight of Dunst gleefully dancing (which happens often and at length) sure felt like CINEMA to me.
Kiah Roache-Turner directs Alyla Browne, Ryan Corr and Penelope Mitchell in this Aussie horror comedy where a little girl adopts a killer alien spider in her family’s building.
Very much a game of spot the influences. I have no real problems with a movie celebrating Arachnophobia / Gremlins / Critters / Aliens (/Evil Dead Rise?) but this never finds that celluloid delirium to make it anything more than a one watcher. Flirts with bad taste but not in a way that demands a cult following. Not going to lie, I had higher hopes for this daft, creepy little try hard.
Louis Garrel directs himself, Roschdy Zem and Noémie Merlant in this French romantic crime comedy drama where a depressed adult son grows suspicious of his mum’s new husband – a reformed ex-con.
All over the shop in terms of tone but kinda sweet. All the competing layers coalesce together nicely. A frippery but a frippery for adults at least.
Tom Shadyac directs Eddie Murphy, Eddie Murphy and Jada Pinkett-Smith in this comedy where a clumsy overweight professor invents a formula that turns him into a confident ladies’ man.
The opening act has some very amusing broad comedy but all the energy, fantastic make-up FX by Rick Baker and budget doesn’t have enough direction or intent to find a satisfying conclusion.
Bobby Carroll's Movie Diary 