Bobby Carroll's Movie Diary

Christopher McQuarrie directs Tom Cruise, Rosamund Pike and Werner Herzog in this pulpy detective thriller based on a best selling series.

As a bit of undemanding entertainment Jack Reacher passes the time nicely enough but both tries I’ve given it I just wanted to like it more than I did. Moment by moment it is difficult to fault which makes this review feel begrudging. The action is cartoonishly OTT as Cruise problem solves and slams himself out of various set pieces with grin inducing ease – his take on Reacher is part Sherlock Holmes, part Jean Claude Van Damme in Hard Target, part Lynx advert hero. Nothing wrong with that. The plot and mystery are both involving and throwaway – an airport novel writ large. Giving Pike the chance to do her thinking man’s totty schtick, while Robert Duvall, Richard Jenkins, Jai Courtney and ice cold nasty from another world Herzog also shine very much doesn’t hurt the “classy” factor either. It just never all gels. Not nearly as smart or as hard boiled as McQuarrie’s work on recent classics like The Usual Suspects or Way of the Gun nor as fantastically as cool a use of Cruise and a tentpole budget as Rogue Nation – you leave Jack Reacher feeling adequately serviced rather than impressed. Hopefully everything will be blended smoother in the sequel as the components are all leftover here for an enjoyable mid scale, middle aged action franchise.

6

 

Samuel Fuller directs Kristy McNichol, Paul Winfield and Burl Ives in this parable about a stray dog programmed to attack black people.

Controversially dumped in America when Paramount were threatened with boycotts due to racist content, here we have a film blatantly critical of racist attitudes that clearly became a scapegoat in changing times. I first heard about White Dog in an Empire article “50 Five Star Movies You’ve Never Seen” which also included the brilliant Fail Safe (if anyone has a stack of mid nineties back issues to hand please post this list online as it it is unfindable currently). I’m still getting into Fuller as a director and can see what he is trying to achieve here but the film has dated in every way except its progressive attitudes. The horror elements that make up the first half now seem cheesy and weak. Until Winfield and Ives’ duo of dangerous animal trainers turn up midway through the performances are correspondingly ropey too. Once they start risking life and limb to reprogram the dog’s hateful conditioning it becomes a far better film. One that is filled with curiously subversive moments – not least of which the one when Winfield performs a salacious striptease to the dog to flaunt his black skin. A B-movie then that still has a powerful message but probably needs a few more decades before being discovered so that its tonally shifting mix can be excused by future viewers as “a product of its time”. Currently what is experimental and what is lurid filmmaking jar awfully to someone well versed in 80s genre cinema. Finally, and maybe most importantly, the dog acting is excellent so whether cliched or didactic the scenes are all emotionally involving.

6

Michael Mann directs Will Smith, Jamie Foxx and Jon Voight in this powerful look at 10 key years in the boxing icon’s life.

Watched for obvious reasons in a double bill with When We Were Kings this week but really I need none to put on Mann’s mutely received epic. Take the obvious body size issues out of the equation and I marvel at Will Smith’s casting against type here. Casting against type? “Smith as Ali” is perfect casting on paper but Mann focuses on the uncertain, nervous real man behind the cool and boisterous public persona which stretches Smith well out his comfort zone. The movie works as a celebration of his life but it’s one that demands political context and grindingly delivers. One that lurches into effective near constant paranoia as pretty much everyone but Ali’s cornermen plot around him to use or restrict his unparalleled significance in black America. One that adds and makes the audience share what a slog his training, stances and need to rely on unreliable power structure (American democracy, corrupt promoters, the fickle Nation of Islam) proved to be – long, arduous joyless takes are often the order of the day and for good reason. Uncertain! Demanding! Paranoid! Slog! Hardly what audiences wanting to see the Fresh Prince rap at press conferences, win historical fights and stick it to the man were hoping for – though that is included too. Once you recalibrate in your own head that this is an examination of a man rather than an ode to a hero there is so much bravura filmmaking on display it is hard to find fault with this overlooked modern classic. The opening montage mixing training, doubts, a Sam Cooke performance and Ali’s childhood all building to his first significant win – just wow! The fights put you in the ring in a way no director ever managed before – The Fighter, Warrior and Creed owe Mann an unrepyable debt. And then you have both Smith and Jon Voigt delivering career best acting, captured often in intrusive extreme close up. An exhaustive slice of cinematic brilliance.

9

 

 

Leon Gast directs Muhammed Ali, George Foreman and James Brown in this fly on the wall documentary following the boxers, promoters, press and musicians trapped in Zaire waiting for a delayed championship bout to be fought.

A vibrant collage of the seventies black American entertainment scene transposed to exotic surroundings with some frankly magical boxing and live music footage taking centre stage. Just lots of fun as various icons alternatively print their own legends direct to camera or laze in hotel lobbies together, none less so than the captivating Ali. Perhaps only the old white men writerly types of Norman Mailer and George Plimptom “talking head”ing retrospectively suck out some of the magic. Their yen to author the narrative when the assembled footage sings it own beautiful tune makes for annoying interludes.

8

Bong Joon Ho directs Chris Evans, Song Kang-Ho and Tilda Swinton in a brutal post apocalyptic revolution set aboard a unstoppable train with the remanents of humanity within. 

Unreleased in the UK, this is a triumphantly realised slice of international sci fi with a killer cast. The world building is impeccable with the Extinction Level Event, creation of rail based ark and class based society explained in neat, believable and logical strokes for such a fantasy. The characters are a bit slimmer but this matches their under nourished dehumanised situation. Spot on casting of the dozen or so speaking parts adds shade and relatability outside of what is scripted – Swinton as a dictatorial middle manager stands out. She embodies a sly satirical tone that never relents even at the bloodiest or most shocking points of the revolt. As a political work about the seperation of the haves and demonisation of the have nots it is solid and engaging allegory which hits some emotional resonance – particularly in three particularly grim, almost stomach churning, revelations made as the rebels make their way through the train. Set design and costume work are also extraordinary and detail a society with dwindling resources but a desire to display each carriages’ social position and personality. Action when it comes is inventive, claustrophobic, violent but constantly varied. This is the work of an entire crew of movie creatives firing on all cylinders. Unmissable.

9

Henry Hobson directs Arnold Schwarzenegger, Abigail Breslin and Joely Richardson in this father watches his daughter turn zombie horror drama. 

This had so much potential – a good idea squandered, another (possibly terminal) stumble on the Arnie comeback march. The problem here is pace and direction. We’ve clearly watched Terrence Malick’s Tree of Life and thought let’s make a zombie like that… Exactly like that. Lots of coverage of foxes in woods, washing on lines, fields of abandoned crops. Not much incident. We have an all time greatest action star and fine comedy actress both playing against type, but with so little to do or say their decent physical performances are stretched out in infuriating extreme close ups. This is a boring film. Schwarzenegger in particular deserves better for taking a risk at such critical juncture of his career. The filmmakers should be thrown into quarantine.

3

 

Steven Spielberg directs Harrison Ford, Shia LeBeouf and Karen Allen in this 50s set revival of cinema’s most beloved adventurer.

Admittedly flawed but not the travesty it sometimes is painted as being. Indy 4 is a stew of classic ingredients and modern twists where some of the new elements sadly spoil the flavour. Ray Winstone, John Hurt and Cate Blanchett for example are extremely hammy which isn’t the end of the world but LeBeouf is dreadful (out of his depth in the charisma stakes and bugging away in the background of shots like some kind of method acting glitch)… the movie only really zings when Indiana is left to his own devices or Ford gets to reignite the spark with Allen’s fine return as Marion Ravenwood. Their chemistry seems to reset the whole endeavour back to a watchable setting once reunited. Action wise is a similar mixed bag; I actually enjoy the fridge / nuke escape and surrounding sequence, there’s some darkly decent Pygmy dart fighting and once we are all together and on course to the lost city of Akator everything except some CGI vine swinging and a glaring alien close up feels like Spielberg is pretty much back on form. Pluses and minuses tallied up, without fanboy high expectations, and it passes… Just. Not so much a cash-in on a bonafide classic but a uncertain attempt at reverse engineering what used to work with inappropriate tools. Edit out a fake gopher here, the use of movie stills for family photos on a desk there, a shot or twelve of Mutt everywhere and this would be a decent placeholder for the legacy of blockbuster cinema’s finest franchises. And when it comes to solving cobwebby riddles, being overawed by mushroom clouds and spacecrafts tearing out of ruins or just popping his trademark Fedora on, Ford still has IT in spades.

6

Shane Black directs Russell Crowe, Ryan Gosling and Angourie Rice in this Seventies set buddy action comedy.

If you are fan of Shane Black then it is all here for you; mismatched salty banter, jaded heroes in way over their heads, precocious kid who throws herself enthusiastically into the mix, colourful henchmen better developed in a few moments than most other movies’ protagonists, neo-noir plots so convoluted you’ll probably only get your head fully around it by the fourth viewing, jokes that come so thick and fast that there’ll be fresh stuff to laugh at by the fortieth. Only Christmas is given short shrift and these days the boobies and oft murdered girls seem as dated as the well realised period setting. It is fair to say The Nice Guys is at least three parts comedy, one part action. The violence when it happens is more of the silent movie pratfall variety rather than the threat filled martial art / shoot out perfection Black delivered in his scripts for Lethal Weapon or The Last Boy Scout. This is down as much to Gosling who shows a genuine knack for playing the idiot and comic physicality. A foul mouthed detective goof who owes as much to Stan Laurel as say a Samuel L Jackon, and the results are great. Crowe is filling out to become a new Robert Mitchum as he ages and spreads. He’s always been a favourite of mine on screen and this outing adds a lighter, more colourful shade to the star’s action repertoire, pistol whippings and stranglings aside. The Nice Guys is easily the funniest film of the year, it hits its action comedy buttons with expert precision. It might be nothing new but recipe is made crisp and the experiment to dial back the carnage a little rarely disappoints.

8

Jan De Bont directs Sandra Bullock, Willem Dafoe and Jason Patric in this disaster movie set aboard a luxury cruise liner set on a collision course. 

A confession. I enjoyed this in the summer of 1997. Not enough to seek it out again. I mean… I knew it was not… in any way… Speed. So watching it again at least 19 further viewings of Keanu’s Fun Bus down the line I’m shocked with my 17 year old self, shocked with everyone involved, really. Yes – there are conceptual problems embedded into every cell like a terminal cancer this was never going to overcome. Charisma vacuum Patric is no replacement for Reeves and it’s hard to say whether having him play exactly the same character with a new name (as they actually try and fail to do), rather just ignoring the recasting and keeping him as a slightly funny looking Jack Traven, or maybe giving the script another rewrite where his character is fased out and replaced by someone a bit different or rewarding the bulk of his set piece heavy lifting to actual star Sandra Bullock would have been the better course of action. The fudge they settle on, just sinks. Then we have the oft pointed out but unignorable problem with a film called Speed 2 set on a slow moving cruise ship. To be honest some of the sequences the concept throws up could easily be made more exciting if Bullock (still charmingly fresh here when she gets more to do than be a hostage) was more obviously in the mix and a bit more directorial care taken to craft them – the propeller sequence has noticeable missed potential. The highlight in this cobbled together mess is a 15 minute sequence where ship crashes into an island town but even that is ruined by a wacky slapstick sensibility and the fact that Bullock and Dafoe seemingly are just put on pause on their jet skis while it all plays out… One reel later and they reappear in exactly the same place to carry on their escape. Surely Dafoe makes for a good villain? Well he’s never boring but inconsistent as a watery custard; smiling for holiday snaps one minute, scowling at a TV screen the next, giving all his hostages a humane chance to escape early doors, yet enfuriated to murder when some of them are trapped on his death ship. Dire, possibly the worst original to sequel quality downturn in a franchise ever.

2

 

Jodie Foster directs George Clooney, Jack O’Connell and Julia Roberts in this thriller where an ordinary Joe takes a TV studio hostage.

Money Monster has a lot going for it; the ambition to emulate set in stone Sidney Lumet classics, the best use of gorgeous George in years, a bawdy sense of humour and crisp, clean direction. It feels like a good, old fashioned night at the movies with its starry cast and simple concept, something in 1996 you would see released every other week but now is a rarer bird you want to conserve just so it doesn’t face extinction. Money Monster even adheres to my favourite movie trope; the Jerry Maguire rule of never having a scene end in the most obvious way. Sometimes brilliantly so – see Clooney’s onscreen “Yes We Can” speech to the viewing masses. So why such a low-ish score for Money Monster? The central conceit of the hostage situation rarely grips and never convinces (despite a likeably animated bit from O’Connell as our answer demanding bomb man). All becomes frankly unbelievable as the action spins out to its conclusion – a thriller with points to make rather than any concern to keeping things taut. The final half hour gives up on all semblance of authenticity to bring the survivors face to face with the true villian – Dominic West’s winningly awful “The Man.” Despite stalling on the final lap this is Foster’s best directed film so far – she really is a talent behind the camera, especially in getting comfort stretching yet amusingly dark turns from her greying leading men – but I doubt this would hold up to repeat viewings like her messier but more satisfying The Beaver.

6