The Iron Lady

If ever there was a politician whose legacy and larger-than-life character deserved the big-screen treatment, it was always going to be Margaret Thatcher (fingers crossed Silvio Berlusconi’s next in line). The first and only woman to be elected Prime Minister in the UK, she proved to be a notorious figure that not only split the country in half with her divisive policies, but also alienated members of her own party with her dominant, uncompromising nature. She is an iconic character that many aspiring writers dream of concocting.

What a disappointment then, that Phyllida Lloyd’s biopic makes for an uneven and uninspiring viewing experience that will fail to grip liberals and satisfy conservatives in equal measure.

The plot, for starters, is as formulaic as biopics come, with an octogenarian Thatcher (Meryl Streep) reminiscing about the good old days in power, whilst sipping away on whiskey and confronting apparitions of her late husband Denis (Jim Broadbent). It’s a tired and tested formula that audiences have been subjected to since Salieri’s bitter accounts on Mozart in 1984’s Amadeus. Meanwhile, the idea of Maggie struggling to release Denis’ ghost has a whiff of A Beautiful Mind to it, and is a contrivance that screenwriter Abi Morgan should have risen above.

But it’s not just the contemporary scenes that weigh the film down. The flashbacks may be ripe with historical heft and even provide valuable insight to how Thatcher became the tough as nails politician we all love/loathe, but their selective use means The Iron Lady feels less like a coherent narrative, more like a stylishly shot history lesson. Much like Oliver Stone’s W , it strives to give a compassionate portrayal of its controversial protagonist, but lacks the bite and rebellious streak a film of this calibre requires.

What cannot be faulted whatsoever though is Streep’s portrayal of the iron lady herself. An actress who is genetically incapable of turning in a bad performance, her transformation is so uncanny, you’d swear you were watching the real Thatcher. The mannerisms, the deep, commanding tone, her dry putdowns… it’s all there. She is also ably supported by Jim Broadbent, who brings some very welcome comic relief to the table as the fun-loving, ever supportive Denis Thatcher. And Olivia Colman’s brief but emotionally restrained performance as daughter Carol also deserves kudos, not least because she must do all of her acting underneath an unflattering prosthetic nose.

Alas, what could’ve been a compelling piece of historical storytelling has sadly turned out to be something of a missed opportunity. A handful of nominations for Streep aside, don’t expect The Iron Lady to make the same impact as last year’s The King's Speech.

2/5

Mission Impossible: Ghost Protocol

As unlikely a concept is may be, the Mission: Impossible films are getting better with every new installment. While Brian De Palma’s first entry was all style but no substance and John Woo’s bloated follow-up felt at times it was desperately trying to emulate The Matrix (long black coats, nu metal soundtrack), JJ Abrams’ threequel was, surprisingly, an emotionally gripping caper convincingly supported by a series of breathtaking action sequences.

And now, five years after we last saw Tom Cruise’s super spy ride off into the sunset, Brad Bird has pulled off the impressive feat of topping Abrams’ solid work. That’s not to say Ghost Protocol will make critics’ top 10 lists of 2012, but as far as popcorn entertainment is concerned, it’s a winner.

Set a few years after the events of MI:3, we find Ethan Hunt (Cruise) leading a diminutive and somewhat inexperienced IMF team as they break into the Kremlin to retrieve top secret files. However, the mission is a set-up, as the secret service is framed for a large scale bombing on Russian soil by strategist-turned terrorist Kurt Hendricks (Michael Nyqvist). With the IMF and its members disavowed by the American government, Hunt gathers the last remaining agents and sets out to stop Hendricks’ plans for nuclear holocaust.

The plot may be as formulaic as they come, but the script throws enough curveballs to keep the audience hooked throughout: why is Ethan in a Russian prison at the start of the film? What happened to his beloved wife Julia since we last saw her? And will Hunt ever settle on a definitive hair style? More intriguingly, the aforementioned team is far from being the gathering of high class professionals we’ve been accustomed to in previous entries. Simon Pegg’s Benji is a blabbermouth tech-head prematurely promoted to field work, Paula Patton’s agent Carter is barely capable of keeping her emotions in check, while Jeremy Renner is intriguingly enigmatic as cagey analyst Brandt.

Meanwhile, the film’s lead is on fine form as the ever resourceful Ethan Hunt. He may be nearing 50, but Cruise gives an impressive physical performance, as we see him throw fisticuffs, sprint through exotic locations and hang off vertiginous skyscrapers. Judging from the footage, he may have it in him to return to the role at least one more time before hanging up the prosthetic mask for good.

However, the Cruiser may be headlining the movie but Ghost Protocol’s real star is Brad Bird. Considering this is his first live action gig, the Incredibles director does a seriously impressive job. Not only does he deliver the franchise’s most inventive opening credits sequence and spectacular action set-pieces seemingly devoid of CGI (a remarkable accomplishment, in this day and age), he also manages to transfer some of the comedy that was a joy to behold in his superhero-themed animated flick. As a result, we get a faulty phone that fails to self-destruct after five seconds and a middle-aged Hunt who realizes he may no longer be young enough to leap off a 5-story building. It’s these moments of light-hearted humour that make Ghost Protocol such an entertaining watch.

They may not be as iconic as Bond or as gritty and realistic as Bourne, but it looks like the Mission Impossible films are still a force to be reckoned with. Go see for yourself, you won’t be disappointed. 

4/5

The Artist

It’s a tough gig, finding a 21st century audience for a black and white silent film complete with onscreen title cards and continuous music score. It’s an even tougher gig trying to review said film without being caught up in the inevitable tidal wave of critical acclaim and admiration for its sheer boldness and artistic flair. But let’s overlook that Michel Hazanavicius’ The Artist is a dead cert to win all the big prizes at this year’s Academy Awards and focus instead on why it’s a truly exceptional film in its own right.

This is a nostalgic Tinseltown tale set during the 1920s, when movie stars didn’t talk, studios controlled the industry and the Hollywoodland sign still dominated the landscape. George Valentin (Jean du Jardin,) is at the height of his fame, with a string of box office hits to his name and the whole world at his feet. But the arrival of talkies spells disaster for Valentin, who fails to comprehend the craze surrounding this new medium and is reluctant to move with the times (there is a potential analogy to be drawn with today’s filmmakers resisting the advent of 3D, but that’s a debate for another blog). It is not long before the actor begins to feel the full brunt of his stubbornness.   

As with any arthouse flick, some detractors will surely snipe at The Artist for its minor flaws, such as the relative simplicity and straightforwardness of the plot, which in truth throws no real curveballs. After all, this is a classic rags to riches story – or rather, riches to rags to riches again. But this being a film devoid of dialogue (well, almost), there is only so much you can do with plot twists.

And anyway, the uniqueness of The Artist lays not in the originality of the story, but in the way it is told. In a bid to portray the protagonist’s fears of becoming obsolete, Valentin has a nightmare in which sounds eerily begin to creep into his reality, to the point where the noise of a feather touching the floor becomes deafening. Meanwhile, scenes of Valentin’s gradual fall from grace are effectively juxtaposed with those of Peppy Miller’s (Berenice Bejo) rising star as she, much to the protagonist’s dismay, becomes an overnight sensation in a series of talkies.

Yet despite Hazanavicius’ impressive directorial accomplishment, major kudos should also go to the performances, considering the actors have to emote without the use of dialogue. Sporting the kind of smile that was made for the silver screen, French actor Jean Du Jardin has both the looks and the charisma to be a believable star of the silent era, but is also quietly impressive (“quiet” being the operative word) during his character’s darker moments. Meanwhile, Argentinian star Berenice Bejo is all peppy charm and appears to have been lifted directly from the cast of Gold Diggers of Broadway. The touching chemistry between the two performers comes alive whenever they share a dance floor. By the time the jazzy finale hits you, you will be hard pressed not to bounce up and start tip tapping away till the end credits roll off the screen.

5/5 

Midnight in Paris

Woody Allen doing Back to the Future in Paris? As bizarre a concept it may be, time travel is a surprisingly perfect fit for the romantic director, who whisks present day screenwriter Gil (Owen Wilson) off to the French capital of the 1920s, where he meets a host of artists, such as Salvador Dalì and F. Scott Fitzgerald, who help him overcome writer’s block. Wilson is at his most loveable as he channels Allen’s stuttering train of thought, while Paris has never been so lovingly shot since Before Sunset. However, it’s the tender illustration of the virtues of nostalgia that truly elevates the film above most of Woody’s recent, forgettable work.

4/5

Review - Sherlock Holmes: A Game of Shadows

“It is deliciously complicated”, muses Robert Downey Jr’s sleuth whilst elucidating a cunning plot development mid film. The same could be said about Sherlock Holmes: A Game of Shadows, Guy Ritchie’s sequel to the sleeper hit of 2009, an enjoyable action romp frequently marred by lengthy chunks of over exposition. A bit of a contradiction though, for a film based on fiction’s greatest detective.

Shadows sees Sherlock Holmes investigate a series of bombings across mainland Europe, leading him to suspect the renowned Professor Moriarty (Jared Harris), a man as brilliant as he is ruthless. Along the way Holmes enlists the help of mysterious gypsy girl Sim (Noomi Rapace), who may be an integral part in undoing Moriarty’s terrorist plans, and the ever reliable Dr. Watson (Jude Law), who would rather be enjoying his honeymoon in Brighton.  

Perhaps the biggest problem with Ritchie’s movies is how far they depart from the source material. Take Robert Downey Jr. for example, who plays Sherlock as Jack Sparrow: brilliant, foolish, charming and outlandish all at once. It is an affable performance that will win audiences over, but leave purists unimpressed and immensely frustrated at how Holmes’ genius is used less to detect clues at the scene of a crime and instead more often employed to predict the outcome of intricate combat sequences. A less charitable critic might argue that Conan Doyle’s work has been given the League of Extraordinary Gentlemen treatment, and anyone who has seen Steve Norrington’s film will know that is not a compliment.

But look past the alterations in tone and character and you’ll see there is a lot to love about A Game of Shadows. The chemistry between Law and Downey Jr. is worth the price of the ticket alone, as the two chums bicker and banter like an old married couple even during the most unusual of scenarios (Watson being caught between Holmes’ thighs whilst in a drag is a sight to behold). Jared Harris is suitably malicious as Moriarty, although he is far from being the menacing figure cloaked in shadows that the posters initially made him out to be. Sadly, Noomi Rapace’s gypsy feels like an afterthought, as she is given very little to do other than adorn the screen in exotic garb.

If anything, the Sherlock Holmes films serve as proof that Guy Ritchie, who has always operated better in his comfort zone made up of Brit mobster flicks, is perfectly capable of handling a big budget franchise. He may have a mild case of the Snyder (too much slow-mo can inadvertently kill an action scene), but should also be commended for delivering a climax that is both visually inventive and highly intellectual in its nature. Now that’s the sort of finale even Conan Doyle would approve. 

3/5

Review - Another Earth

In Mike Cahill’s Sundance crowd-pleaser, a teenage student kills a professor’s family in a traffic collision on the same night of the discovery of a duplicate planet Earth. Four years later she is released from prison and begins insinuating herself into the life of the unsuspecting widow, all the while Earth II is edging closer to our world. Another Earth eschews apocalyptic clichés and ponders instead on hefty themes like loss and redemption, the sci-fi element being a mere backdrop to what is essentially an existential drama. Compelling food for thought, although the overall tone may be a little too cold to keep viewers hooked throughout those lugubrious 92 minutes.   

3/5  

Review - Hugo

Those who caught a glimpse of the trailer for Hugo earlier this year must have had a hard time believing it was Martin Scorsese’s latest offering. With its light tone, mild slapstick and prepubescent characters racing through an old station, it felt like watching a preview of the next Narnia film.

Yet while he’s more renowned for his flicks about the mob, it’s very easy to forget that Marty has always been one for exploring new genres. Throughout his long, varied career he has flirted with psycho horror (Shutter Island, Bringing out the Dead); immersed himself in religion and spirituality (Kundun, The Last Temptation of Christ); and tackled the historical epic (Gangs of New York). Hugo sees the diminutive filmmaker’s foray into another unexpected subgenre: the Christmas family film. Who’d have thunk it, eh?

Set in a 1930s Parisian railway station, the film follows young orphan Hugo Cabret (Asa Butterfield), a resourceful mechanic who spends his time maintaining the building’s clocks and tinkering with a childlike automaton left by his father. Whilst the station itself is a gallery of vibrant characters, Hugo is particularly fascinated with a taciturn shopkeeper (Ben Kingsley) who may be linked to his late father. Aided by the shopkeeper’s daughter Isabelle (Chloe Moretz), the boy sets out to uncover the mystery.

Impressive use of 3D aside (Marty shooting in 3D?? Never!), the first act of Hugo is somewhat lacklustre. Scorsese’s intent is to take time in setting up his characters and the beautifully nostalgic world they inhabit, but in these early stages the film is brought down by an apparent lack of direction. It is a misstep so flagrant, it actually makes you briefly question whether mainstream entertainment is a natural fit for the director.

But this is Scorsese we’re talking about and he has one hell of an ace up his sleeve. Revealing too much would spoil the plot, but it’s safe to say that what starts off as affable family entertainment gradually turns into a surprisingly personal labour of love for the medium of cinema. As the pace picks up, Hugo starts piling up touching references to pioneers and milestones of filmmaking, such as the Lumière brothers, Douglas Fairbanks and George Méliès’ Le Voyage dans la Lune (even the Gare Montparnasse railway derailment gets the cinematic treatment). It goes without saying that all of the above are great sources of inspiration to Scorsese and the directors of his generation.

While Butterfield and Moretz may not possess the requisite gravitas to carry a film (although this is due to their age and inexperience, not an inability to act) they are ably supported by a talented cast. Sacha Baron Cohen turns in a comically rigid performance as station inspector Gustav, while Jude Law makes a welcome, if a little too brief cameo as Hugo’s father, but the real heart and soul of the film though are Ben Kingsley and Helen McCrory. The two veteran actors share a deeply affecting chemistry as an old married couple and as the climax gently unfolds, their final scenes pack a real emotional punch.    

Herein lays Hugo’s greatest strength: it is a film that moves and educates in equal measure and speaks to viewers of all ages. Now that is a proper family film. Well done, Mr Scorsese.

4/5