Philomena

Philomena is one of those low-key dramedies that gives British cinema a good name. Lovingly crafted and wonderfully acted, it tells the true story of disgraced journalist Martin Sixsmith, who decides to write a human interest story about an elderly Irish woman’s search for the son she was forced to give up during her adolescence. With M now out of the picture, it’s nice to see Judi Dench play a more relatable charming old lady, but it is Steve Coogan’s admirably restrained performance that lingers in mind. A few Partidge-isms do creep in here and there ("Fucking Catholics!"), but there’s enough talent on display to suggest future “serious” performances wouldn’t go amiss.

4/5

Gravity

Gravity is the kind of film that should come with a big flashing health warning during the opening credits, because the likelihood of experiencing multiple panic attacks over the following 90 minutes is decidedly high. And before you jump to conclusions, that is meant as an overwhelming endorsement. Here is an impeccably executed science-fact thriller that harks back to a time when films pulled in audiences on the strength of their premise alone (rather than because they were based on the latest best-selling teen novel or the hottest comic book property) and the set-up for Alfonso Cuaròn’s latest offering is only strengthened by its ruthless simplicity.

Picture the scene: high above the Earth’s atmosphere, a handful of astronauts loom into view, as they casually go about repairing the Hubble Telescope. There’s a joker (Paul Sharma) having fun with his tether in the absence of gravity; there’s the seasoned pro (George Clooney), who’s treating his last spacewalk like a walk in the park; and then there’s the rookie (Sandra Bullock), doing her best to hide all signs of apprehension as she works away on the telescope. Suddenly, they get an urgent message from Mission Control, warning them that a cloud of debris is heading their way with the velocity of a high-speed bullet. Within seconds, huge chunks of shrapnel proceed to slice up the shuttle, the Hubble telescope and crucially, the rookie’s safety lead, who is then hurled into deep space…

Caught your attention yet? Good, ‘cause that’s only the beginning and it only gets better. But revealing more details of the plot would mean spoiling what is surely the most gripping viewing experience of the year, so let’s focus instead on Gravity’s other assets.

For starters, its adherence to realism is remarkable, with real-life astronauts already praising the film’s veracity (despite Cuaròn’s admission that a few liberties had to be taken in the name of dramatic license). The afore-mentioned space shrapnel, in particular, offers a new form of on-screen threat which hasn’t been employed in previous space-set movies, but is just as devastating as a tornado or a tidal wave. The dead silence of open space is also effectively recaptured. There’s something eerie and otherworldly about seeing that level of destruction without the deafening sound of an explosion, with only Stephen Price’s score providing all the cues.

With this much realism going on, you’d be half-inclined to believe Cuaròn actually shot the whole thing in space for real, a theory that is supported by the Mexican director’s long, uninterrupted shots (the first cut clocks in around the 15 minute mark). There’s no point in pretending to know how he pulled it all off, so let’s just say that, thanks to the combination of state of the art CGI and an adrenaline-fuelled performance from Sandra Bullock, you’ll get pretty good idea of what it feels like to be left alone and to your own devices all the way up there.

What’s also pleasing is that, in an age when far too many blockbusters get pointless 3D conversions just for the sake of making a few extra bucks, this is one film that truly should be enjoyed in three dimensions. Not for the novelty of seeing large objects being flung at you from the Earth’s orbit (although there’s nothing wrong with that), but because for once the 3D brings the visuals to vibrant life. After all, if you’re going to see a majestic shot of Earth from outer space, you’ll want to feel like you’re actually there.

So there you have it: Gravity is a popcorn movie that feels like a rollercoaster ride, yet also treats its audience to an original concept and is beautifully put together. The best film of 2013? Oh, go on then.

5/5

Thor: The Dark World

If you happen to be a final year film student, here’s a suggestion for your dissertation topic: movies with colons in their titles should be approached with caution. Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen, Lara Croft Tomb Raider: The Cradle of Life, GI Joe: Rise of Cobra, Terminator 3: Rise of the Machines (come to think of it, steer clear of all “Rise of” flicks too). All films that provide standard Friday night entertainment, but fail to linger in mind shortly after exiting your local Odeon. Which doesn’t exactly bode well for Thor: The Dark World…

It’s not that TDW is a bad film, more like a curiously disappointing one. The God of Thunder’s first outing was well-served by a healthy dose of fish out of water humour to go with the hammer-pounding action and lofty Shakespearian dialogue. The comedy is still present in the sequel – and TDW can be occasionally very funny – but this time it feels like it’s there to cover up the film’s inadequacies instead of working to its strengths. You’ll no doubt get a chuckle seeing Thor hang Mjolnir on a coat hanger or catching the London Underground during rush hour, but they always feel like distractions from the main plot.

Although “plot” is actually pushing it – what we have here is more akin to a “mainstream narrative equation”, i.e. character X must go from plot point A to plot point B in order to save character Y. Throw in also some of the dodgiest movie science ever to grace a blockbuster and you’re onto a head-scratcher to rival the Pirates of the Caribbean franchise in terms of logic and continuity.

In fact, the set-up is so convoluted that an opening voiceover is required, courtesy of Anthony Hopkins’ all-father Odin. Something to do with Christopher Eccleston’s Malekith (a front-runner for the year’s Blandest Villain) trying to steal a MacGuffin, fails, gets jailed, breaks out, wants revenge… you know the drill. It’s the kind of outline put together by a focus group, rather than a visionary screenwriter.

Thank god for Tom Hiddleston’s Loki then, who single-handedly steals the show, runs with it and never looks back. Over the course of three movies Hiddleston has managed to breathe life into the God of Mischief and inhabit the role in the same way Robert Downey Jr and Hugh Jackman did with Tony Stark and Wolverine before him, as opposed to Chris Hemsworth, whose ownership of the role of Thor is more down to his physical resemblance to his comic book counterpart. Loki brings a very welcome blend of sass and menace to the table, thus ensuring Thor is never too much of a bore whenever he’s around and he will no doubt be sorely missed when the next Avengers flick hits the screens.

Other minor saving graces are two highly surprising cameos (neither of which are Stan Lee) and the most bonkers final battle witnessed so far in a Marvel film, where director Alan Taylor literally chucks everything but the kitchen sink at the screen. It’s mad, it’s confusing and will have you in stiches for both the right and the wrong reasons. And that is probably the best way to sum up Thor: The Dark World.

2/5

Captain Phillips

Anyone who’s seen United 93 will know that sitting through a Paul Greengrass movie can be a deeply unnerving experience. His latest film, Captain Phillips, offers a fly on the wall account of the 2009 hijacking of a U.S. container ship by a young crew of Somali pirates. Tom Hanks turns in a masterful performance as the eponymous captain, a grounded, credible everyman thrust into the most incredible of situations, but it’s Greengrass’ ability to downplay the gung ho heroism and make us gradually empathise with the impetuous and ill-equipped pirates that will catch viewers off guard. Expect Oscar nominations.

4/5

Filth

Let’s cut straight to the chase: if you had a hard time enjoying Trainspotting, you’ll most likely be repulsed by Filth. The comedy is blacker than soot, colourful profanities are frequently spouted, copious amounts of drugs voraciously consumed and for those located south of Hadrian’s Wall, the Scottish accents are as thick as they come. If, however, you’ve been bemoaning the lack of decent Irvine Welsh adaptations ever since Renton walked off into the sunset to the sound of Born Slippy, then you are in for a guilty treat.

That’s not to say Filth is Trainspotting 2.0. Both films may display a brutal brand of humour rooted in Britain’s working class, but the two are radically different in terms of theme. While Danny Boyle’s masterpiece was a portrayal of 90s disenfranchised youth, Jon S. Baird’s impressive sophomore effort is a perverse character study chronicling one man’s spectacular descent into hell. It’s a warped ride, with its ups and downs and the occasional sharp turn that takes you by surprise.

Accompanying us on this journey is DS Bruce Robertson, one of the most irredeemably amoral characters ever to be conceived either on page or on screen. Ostensibly a sociopath with a police badge, Bruce shags, snorts and schemes his way through Edinburgh, all while he foolishly believes an imminent job promotion will reunite him with his estranged wife and daughter. When asked by his pitiful “best friend” Clifford Blades what made him want to join the Force, Robertson says it was police oppression. “Oh, so you wanted to stamp it out from the inside?” asks Bladesey. “No, I wanted to be a part of it”, comes the straight-faced reply. He’s not a protagonist you can empathise with, but you certainly won’t be able to take your eyes off him.

As is the case with most adaptations, not all of Filth’s source material makes its way to the big screen, but to Baird’s credit what he sacrificed from the book was due to the material’s incompatibility on film. The biggest omission is the tapeworm that grows inside Bruce’s intestines (sounds lovely, doesn’t it?), which in the book appears literally on top of the text, highjacks the narrative and effectively becomes Robertson’s conscience. In the film the invertebrate character is replaced by Jim Braodbent’s manic shrink Dr Rossi and while the substitution makes sense somewhat, it would’ve been tempting to see Bruce be psychoanalysed by a literate giant worm.

Having said that, Baird jumps at the opportunity to throw in some elements that couldn’t be reproduced as effectively on paper. Hysterical fantasy sequences pop up in the earlier stages of the film, while Bruce has sudden, grotesque visions of people turning into pigs, as his mental state gradually deteriorates. Even the shocking twist packs a real punch thanks to the ingenious use of flashbacks and psychedelic visuals.

At the centre of this whirlwind of squalor and depravity is James McAvoy, turning in another brilliant performance in the same year he impressed in Danny Boyle’s Trance. Hell, it’s quite possibly his best role to date. On one hand this is because the diabolical “Robbo” is the polar opposite of Robbie, the naïve romantic gardener from Atonement, but that’s too easy a comparison. No, where McAvoy truly stands out is in those rare, brief moments where a twinkle of humanity shines through Bruce Robertson, the ones that seem to suggest that, deep beneath the filth, there might just be a decent human being down there. It’s a tough act to pull off, but the Scottish actor does a sterling job.

All in all, Filth is a glorious adaptation that triumphantly recaptures the book’s anarchic spirit and that shocks, scares and entertains in equal measure. Catch it before it gets banned from your local cinema.

4/5

Blue Jasmine

Blue Jasmine sees a New York socialite relocate to San Francisco after discovering her husband is both a fraudster and a philanderer, except the change in lifestyle does not turn out to be the smoothest of transitions. What sounds like the premise for a half-baked Sarah Jessica Parker vehicle is actually a Woody Allen film about the emotional and psychological struggles of starting anew. Expect anxiety ridden characters and awkward clashes between genders and social classes. Heading a cast on top form is Cate Blanchett as Jasmine, a hopelessly self-absorbed individual who never quite elicits our sympathy, but nonetheless gains our compassion thanks to her fragility and tragic lack of social skills.

4/5

About Time

A Richard Curtis film that isn’t cheap and predictable? There’s a first time for everything. The one sheet and TV ads will have you think About Time is merely Notting Hill with time travel, but there are surprisingly profound twists and themes to be mulled over throughout this enjoyable rom-com (less emphasis on the “com”). Regrettably, Domhnall Gleeson spends the first half doing a '90s Hugh Grant impression, but once he settles into his role and the chemistry with the lovely Rachel McAdams and the ever laudable Bill Nighy blossoms, it will be very hard for you not to fall in love with this film.

4/5