Grainy (shitty) camera phone shot of Rose Street, Edinburgh.
Author Archives: Ben Gould
Mad Max: Fury Road (2015).
I wasn’t expecting much from this, the picture released decades after the last instalment. It smelled of a desperate reboot, and all the chatter of on-set discord (to put it lightly) between the leads wasn’t encouraging. But how stunning this movie turned out to be, a nonstop thrill-ride serving as the antidote to today’s CGI-laden borefests.
It looks like it was storyboarded to the max, and thank fuck as it’s expert spectacle. So many movies give the impression that the cinematographer and director never even discussed the visuals before the day’s shoot. Fury Road, however, defines … creative carnage.
I recommend the best way to view this treat is as a double bill with Mad Max 2: The Road Warrior (1981). Fittingly, Roger Ebert’s review of the Mel Gibson classic captures the appeal of both:
Jarhead (2005).
Jarhead (2005) is one of most visually unmemorable good movies ever. It all looks lovely but entirely anonymous, solid craftsmanship rather than the captivating. I can’t recall a single striking shot; the poster leaves more of an impression than any of the images. Maybe this is the point – capturing the monotony of war. But is war really this boring? A dozen other movies say no.
It’s quite the riot, though, for the first hour, lots of lolz and a frenetic pace, an atmosphere that builds up to something that … never really happens. The early promise peters out and you just get repetition. Once again this may be the point. But what’s the point? This is a war movie, not an episode of Seinfeld. Watch Three Kings (1999) instead. It’s about something.
And Chris Cooper’s high billing for this annoyed me. He is barely in it and leaves little impression other than a weak imitation of Robert Duvall’s Colonel Kilgore.
Hail, Caesar! (2016).
Hail, Caesar! (2016) feels both enamoured with and contemptuous of post-war ’50s Hollywood, revelling in the sleaze and skulduggery behind the charade as a nostalgia piece, whilst also informing us that it’s still how the edifice operates.
Eddie Mannix is flatteringly portrayed by Josh Brolin as a reluctant fixer plagued by Catholic guilt, but it works because of the sharks swimming around him. Brolin excels at these roles, capturing just the right combination of the smarmy and the sentimental. It’s a loose telling of events, as anything deeper would result in a murkier film.
As a pure comedy, it’s very funny. And every Hobie Doyle scene is hilarious. A snippet:
The Guard (2011) is a majestic experience.
Every line of dialogue in this is funny, and the lines have a purpose. Not a single sentence is wasted. I’m reminded of a David Mamet play, but with a cinematic sensibility (a David Mamet film, then). It’s the chemistry between the two leads, however, which really makes the movie, the Don Cheadle’s grudging and then growing respect of the seemingly nonchalant Sergeant Boyle, who is way smarter than he looks and acts. “You know, I can’t tell if you’re really motherfuckin’ dumb or really motherfuckin’ smart.”
And the villains. Such banter:
The Hunt (2020) is a prime example of a poster being better than the actual movie.
I think the pig makes it so. As for the film itself – embarrassing, desperate satire which was both highly irritating and puzzlingly boring at the same time.
Don’t waste your time on it.
Wanderings and ... wonderings. 