Olivia Wilde directs herself, Seth Rogen and Penélope Cruz in this comedy of manners where two sets of ageing millennial neighbours talk sex and noise bleed.
Sharp. Continually funny without breaking reality. Wilde makes excellent use of the claustrophobic space keeping it cinematic but also a pressure cooker. Everyone is on top form. The most laughs we have had in a multiplex in a long old time. Also the most pale blue on film since Brokeback Mountain’s stonewash denim budget almost bankrupted Ang Lee. I’m so glad we don’t invite people over and barely know our neighbours.
Jeff Tremaine directs Johnny Knoxville, Steve-O and Wee Man in this final film in the extreme stunt and prank show series.
A bit of a swizz. The new pranks aren’t great (mainly electrocutions and shit) and the “best of” reruns didn’t get much of a response at my screening. Where this one pays the bills is in unreleased footage. Unaired pilot gags and stunts way too controversial for telly. Johnny (or is it PJ?!) shoots himself in the chest with a real handgun and goes to a hardware shop dressed up as a realistic escaped convicted felon.
5
Perfect Double Bill: Anvil: The Story Of Anvil (2008)
Wolfgang Becker directs Daniel Brühl, Katrin Sass and Chulpan Khamatova in this comedy where in 1990, to protect his fragile mother from a fatal shock after a long coma, a young man must pretend her beloved nation of East Germany is still going strong and the wall still exists.
Cute arthouse crowd pleaser remembered for the impressive shot where a broken statue of Lenin dangles from helicopters through a housing estate. And making Daniel Brühl a thing. The set-up is more interesting than watching the joke run out of steam. Yet it is very appealing and reaches some nice humane moments in between the colourful satire.
Becky Sharpe directs Charissa Shearer, Jamie Pigott and Antonia Gorence in this British indie thriller where a sad sack performance artist becomes obsessed with Isobel, her spooky surgeon lodger.
I don’t think I have ever seen something quite so awful and mesmerisingly humdrum as this. The acting is especially drearily one-note. Beyond parody, yet very dull. I genuinely think you’d have to work harder to make something this incompetent and unpalatable.
Ben Feldman directs Hillel Slovak, Anthony Kiedis and Flea in this talking heads documentary revisiting the formative years of the Los Angeles band, and the influence of original guitarist Hillel Slovak, who died in 1988.
Not the maddest fan of the Red Hot Chili Peppers but their biggest hit will get me bobbing my head when they come on. This is quite a sweet way to capitalise on the chaos and self-destruction of the their first decade. I reckon going to see them live in the mid Eighties would have been epic, but they wouldn’t be a chill hang off stage. At their best when they are being dorky dafties.
Adam Carter Rehmeier directs Conor Sherry, Gabriel LaBelle and Mika Abdalla in this teen comedy where two hustlin’ best pals rent a poolside concession stand over the summer but find big business puts their friendship to the test.
1991 soft nostalgia. I would have loved this movie if I was 12. I don’t have room for another one like this in my life now I’m 46. It actually does everything right and Mika Abdalla has potent star power. Give it a chance…
Peter Del Monte directs Kathleen Turner, Gabriele Ferzetti, and Gabriel Byrne in this drama where a grieving woman slides between two realities after her husband Paolo’s death.
Sting is in this too. Being creepy. Roeg / Antonioni vibes. Turner was at the height of her fame when she decided to make an Italian art movie that mainly seems to exist to test out the advances in high end VHS cinematography. The only mystery is… why?
5
Perfect Double Bill: Identification of a Woman (1982)
John Huston, Ken Hughes, Val Guest, Robert Parrish and Joe McGrath direct Peter Sellers, Ursula Andres and David Niven in this 007 spoof where multiple James Bonds are assigned the same mission.
Dead in the water chaos. Peter Sellers, at the height of his fame, signed on do this off-brand adaptation of Ian Fleming’s first novel. The shoot was chaotic. Rumour had it he and Orson Welles (cast as Le Chiffre and having a blast at the baccarat tables doing non-narrative magic tricks) fell out early doors. Plus Sellers wanted it to be “more serious”. Eventually he walked with only a third of the script in the can. So the producers tried to turn a weakness into a strength. Creating a framing device of David Niven as the “original” James Bond recruiting a whole bunch of newer James Bonds. It became a movie of vaguely tangentially related side plots featuring the most available stars of their day. It is an absolute dog’s dinner. Making little sense… slowly. Clutching at straws? Herb Alpert’s ear worm brass band theme tune is iconic. Welles seems to be having the time of his life disrupting a big studio mess he has no responsibility over. The Mata Hari sequence might be dated colonialism but at least is funny, sexy and spectacular. None of these things are any reason to sit through the first hour. Which is just grindingly awful. No movie could recover from such stale pop art boredom.
Woody Allen directs Mia Farrow, Jeff Daniels and Danny Aiello in this magical realist fantasy where a cinema-goer and a movie character start a romance in the Depression era.
One of Woody’s more vivid, self contained ones. Seems to be in conversation with the magic of cinema and the crush of reality rather than his standard introspection. Sweet… until it isn’t… with one of the most quietly brutal endings ever in a “romcom”. Wonderful recreation of this era on a smaller budget.
Donald Cammell directs Anne Heche, Joan Chen and Christopher Walken in this erotic thriller where a money laundering banker moonlights as a call girl.
Infamous for having three versions. None of which make much narrative sense and the one the producers released may have contributed to Cammell’s suicide. Any version you watch is an incoherent soup of concepts and wildly off beam acting styles. I will say the lengthy centrepiece sex scene between Heche and Chen is very steamy. Everything flopping around it? Dreck.
Bobby Carroll's Movie Diary 