He is so perfect as Ripley, camp and creepy and always funny, you almost wish he could de-age a wee bit in 1999 and play the eponymous nutjob in The Talented Mr Ripley, which is a belter in its own right.
This film is just great, a thriller which is amusing, and a proper character piece. It’s about how little innocuous things lead to grand dramas, and how petty acts have far-reaching consequences. And how Ray Winstone really should not have an earring.
The personal narratives – mega meltdowns – linked to an Extinction Level Event (ELE) is a lofty ambition but the director cannot be faulted for his audacity, and this film has a preternatural quality from the start with its striking opening and inspired use of Wagner (Tristan und Isolde).
We also have an acidic Charlotte Rampling, a plastered John Hurt, and Kiefer Sutherland doing his best ‘Fuming Mode’ in quite some time. There are scenes of such awkwardness in the first act that it’s a genuine feat to have put them together in rapid succession. Then we get all apocalyptic and it somehow works. There are so few movies like this, one toils to put it in a category.
Classic songs you’d expect in a Scorsese movie ruined by their despairing accompaniment to threadbare scenes of Travolta and Alley mugging it, that’s Look Who’s Talking (1989) summed up.
I don’t get the point of any of it. It’s coarse, crude, cheap, and frankly just a minging watch. How is the interior monologue of a baby amusing? Oh, Bruce Willis does the voice of the critter. What genius!
A movie that can’t decide if it’s family fare or an R rating, it’s somewhere thrashing in the middle, daft and pointless. I suppose this got Travolta through his ‘wilderness years’ as it beguilingly scooped up a fucking fortune. But audiences know nothing.
Riotously entertaining if totally ludicrous and unnecessarily graphic in its violence and shagging. This is preoccupied with sleazy old men and delectable items of the flesh plucked to seduce them. It’s awkward to watch and I suppose that’s the point of the honey trap premise, which is apparently a widely-practised tactic by intelligence services.
There is nothing complicated here and it doesn’t really matter what city the characters are in. I don’t think I can recall a spy thriller with such a nonchalance as to its locations, which are without distinction.
But whatever, it’s just high trash with a cast who seem to know what it is.
Warren Beatty was/is a movie star powerhouse, combining glamour looks and supreme acting talent, a 2 in 1. His notorious obsession with control over projects is confusing here, as he didn’t direct this. Anyway, he is magnetic as always, charming and unnerving and frequently hilarious. From his tantrums to his child-like enthusiasm and naïveté, he is totally credible. I suppose that’s acting.
An impressive movie if not quite great, its best attributes are the pacing and the fact it trusts its audience. There are none of the usual biopic pitfalls of the lengthy exposition which explains everything, and the schematic insertion of historical facts for the audience.
A glossy borderline melodrama which does it just the right way. Worth a watch for Beatty.
Whiplash (2014) is a cracking movie, eh. I would say … draining. It promotes a bit of an American Dream fallacy, though, namely that hard work = success. Nonsense. I could work like a sheep dog for 19 hours a day for seven years trying to fathom how the Tim Robbins character managed to escape Shawshank State Penitentiary yet perfectly place the poster (from the assembly point of the tunnel he dug) back on the cell wall … and still have no answers.
This was verily an impressive motion picture, and it starts with the cast, even though the highly irritating, 100% talentless ‘lad’ from ghastly ’90s British TV series Men Behaving Badly is somehow in it.
The music is pure Vangelis and it suits the story and locales surprisingly well; one wouldn’t expect Blade Runner (1982) stuff to work in this setting. The attention to detail (life on a ship) is necessary, the toils a clear element in the breakdown of the crew, most of them toothless goons who appear to have been press-ganged. You can see the temptation to mutiny. It’s the late 1700s and you’re presented with Tahiti when all you’ve got upon return to Great Britain is living in a cesspool.
The weirdo Anthony Hopkins does his best weirdo Anthony Hopkins, which is just the right amount of weird.
The Robert Bolt screenplay is a tad disappointing. After the craftily put together exposition, he resorts to homoerotic undertones to explain Bligh’s reaction to Christian’s shagging, which is just lazy writing. And there’s not enough drama on display, which sounds nuts considering the scenes. Not enough characterisation, no scenes exploring a character doing anything outwith the collective, not enough style that grabs; you’re in the hands of a most journeyman director.
This was pathetic from the very first second, the opening a superhero movie-style newspaper headlines montage to make up for the lack of a well-written exposition.
It’s so dull, the script going like this:
Character one: “Something is happening.”
Character two: “What is happening?”
Character one proceeds to explain what is happening and then reeling off a line with a time and date of an event in order to segue to the next scene.
What else? No one in it appears to be affected by anything that happens to them in a case of ordinarily excellent actors phoning it in. It is so badly edited, cut to the max in desperation yet still dull. Framing is without purpose. Music is better suited to a two-hour sequence shot of a pigeon napping. This movie is an abomination.
It is unabashed glossy trash of the highest order, with Douglas at his peak of sleaze. It’s how I image Gordon Gekko would be in his private affairs. I didn’t care much for the machinations of the plot, but merely for the level of smug on display, though David Suchet’s detective seems to think it’s an actual Cannes-worthy art piece he’s in.
And it’s not even good, not a smidgen of “timeless classic” going on, another nostalgia viewing regret.
I don’t understand the point of any of it, or why they are even trying to find the body (the “we’ll be heroes” motivation makes no sense). The voice over is entirely unnecessary, each schematic vignette increasingly dull, and the direction heavy handed and tepid.
I simply wasn’t buying it, my annoyance at the characters’ antics only matched by the disappointment I had in myself for watching their needy antics despite being bored shitless.
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Wanderings and ... wonderings. 