Walking on Sunshine

Anyone who knows me will know that I have a bit of a thing for Mamma Mia!. Then again, who can possibly resist the tidal wave of Abba cheese which sweeps over you as Meryl Streep blasts out “The Winner Takes It All” atop some hilltop on a Greek island and the likes of Colin Firth and Julie Walters throw themselves whole-heartedly into camp dance routines. Even – and here's where the true genius of Abba's songs lie – even Pierce Brosnan's fog-horn attempts at singing “SOS” can't disrupt the joy. Mamma Mia! is so astronomically, staggeringly bad that it comes full circle and becomes, paradoxically, brilliant. And so, when I first saw a trailer for Walking on Sunshine, a musical with hit songs from the 1980s, I thought it would be the new Mamma Mia! (just with bigger hair). It's not.

Let's begin with the plot – a good a place to start as any. Set in a coastal town in present day Italy, Walking on Sunshine opens with Taylor (played by Gemma Arterton's older sister, Hannah) ending a whirlwind holiday romance with the dashing Raf (Giulio Berruti). She's about to start university and, you know, can't possibly begin a relationship. Fast forward three years and Taylor has graduated and returns to Italy for her sister's wedding. And guess who the lucky guy is?! The same guy who Taylor had a fling with all those years ago! Crazy. Do Taylor and Raf tell her sister Maddie (Annabel Scholey), or should they keep quiet and hope she doesn't find out? There, in a nutshell, is the plot which, at times, runs rather close to that of Mamma Mia! (sorry, I'll stop mentioning it).

One of the first scenes sees Taylor arrive at the airport and the passport man asks her: “business or holiday?”. And then, because it's a musical and people do this sort of thing, she launches into Madonna's “Holiday”, complete with stupid dance routines and from then on, we know we're stuck in this musical hell. The songs don't get much better when the ensemble cast join in. Leona Lewis makes her film début and, although the girl sure can sing, her acting leaves less to be desired. In fact, you know what, the whole cast looks like they had a ball filming the movie: always a sign that the audience will definitely be having less fun!

To be fair to the cast, they do have plenty of energy but the singing is auto-tuned to within an inch of its pathetic life. We're treated/subjected to vacuous renditions of classics such as “Eternal Flame” and “If I Could Turn Back Time”. More generally, the songs (of which there are far too many) share no common theme or thread, aside from the decade of their release and the plot lists from one to another as a drunken man does when bothering people for loose change.

Greg Wise plays Doug, Maddie's ex who attempts to win her back by, basically, stalking her. In any other film, he would have been arrested for sexual harassment. The comedy – or lack of – is another problem. Some really rather crude jokes seem rather out of place from the saccharine schmaltz and predictable dialogue which characterises the film. The narrative's twists and turns are inexplicable, drawn-out and really rather dull and offer no satisfaction at their resolution. Yes, I get that this isn't going to be Citizen Kane but...

The central problem with the film is that it takes itself far, far too seriously. The drama played out on screen is, quite frankly, ridiculous, the characters irritating and I sat there with a look of bewilderment on my face. In fact, things got so bad at one point that I was eyeing-up the pills which an old dear sat next to me had got out from her handbag. Something to dull the pain...or end it all: either would have been preferable to the utter tosh which was slowly draining the life force from me.

Walking on Sunshine is garish film-making by numbers. A limp script, heavily-produced musical numbers, uninspiring characters and terrible direction all mix together creating a lethal cocktail of cheese, sun and sickeningly perfect smiles. It was enough to make me run home and stick Mamma Mia! in the DVD player.

Clapperboard Reviews: *

Jimmy's Hall

Ken Loach is angry. The director in the social realist sub-genre, Loach recently claimed that film critics find the idea of a politically informed and free-thinking working-class as “abhorrent”. His latest – and, if initial rumours were to believed, his last – film Jimmy's Hall, features many scenes of a rural Irish community discussing politics, freedom and religion in 1930s Ireland. Quite why Mr Loach believes all critics view such scenes as “fantasy” is rather perplexing and a little bemusing. However, what is clear is that Jimmy's Hall is packed full of political statements and ideology. It's a shame, then, that none of it really sticks.

Set in rural Ireland during the “Red Scare” of the 1930s which saw a wave of concern sweep the establishment about communist activity, Jimmy's Hall is inspired by the real life political activist Jimmy Gralton, who was deported from Ireland by authorities who were worried that he was stirring up trouble in County Leitrim. On arriving back from ten years in America, Jimmy returns to his home to find a dispirited and battered community, a result of the recent Irish Civil War. Jimmy takes it upon himself to re-open a community hall and hold dances and classes for the benefit of the locals. The local priest (played by Jim Norton) and other officials, however, object to Jimmy's actions and, in particular, his political views.

Now, the first thing to say about the film is that it wears its political opinions on its sleeve, which sometimes presents a problem. It is packed full with political opinions, debates and ideals and lacks a subtlety which would have made for a more multi-layered, deeper film. There's a sequence when Jimmy makes a rousing speech to the assembled community and shouts “we need to take control of our lives again!”. He references the stock market crash, the power of the elite and the inequality which is widespread. Loach may as well have held up a placard to the audience: “Note Parallels With Today After The Financial Crisis”. The whole film feels, in a way, a bit too axiomatic in its approach to its subject matter.

Barry Ward plays Jimmy with gusto and his relationship with old flame Oonagh (Simone Kirby) is convincing. The two stand-out performances, however, come from Jim Norton as the zealous Father Sheridan and Jimmy's mother, excellently played by Aileen Henry. The heartbreak of watching a mother lose her son for a second time was very affecting to watch and Henry's understated performance was fantastic. Norton's character, on the other hand, is rather ambiguous. He begins the film vehemently opposed to everything that Jimmy is and stands for and yet, by the end, is – if not sympathetic – rather more complimentary about certain aspects of Jimmy's character. It would have been nice had the film stuck to its guns and convictions when it came to the motivations of Father Sheridan but Norton, nonetheless, just about holds the whole thing together.

Jimmy's Hall is shot nicely, looks the part and has some great individual moments (especially musical scenes inside the hall) and is a pleasant watch. It screams Loach and screams its politics at the audience – not always a bad thing but a little nuance never goes amiss. 

Clapperboard Rating: * * * 

Grace of Monaco

Olivier Dahan, the director of Grace of Monaco, was adamant in an interview that his film about the post-Hollywood life of Grace Kelly was not a biopic. “I need to make films that resonate with me and my feelings”, he continued. “I would find it boring to have to depict facts only focusing on a character's story”. Heaven knows, then, what Grace of Monaco would have turned out like had he focused on the facts because, as it stands, the film is a bland, uninspiring and wholly misjudged affair.

Dahan's ill-fated quest to discover Grace Kelly in a more “personal” way begins with Alfred Hitchcock (played by Roger Ashton-Griffiths) visiting Princess Grace in her palace in Monaco, attempting to persuade her back in front of the camera for his upcoming film Marnie. But Grace is concerned that a move back to Hollywood, if only temporary, would spell disaster for her marriage to Prince Rainier III and for Monaco, embroiled in a diplomatic crisis with France. And so, the film sees Princess Grace attempt to reconcile herself with her potential roles in the world: those of film star, princess and mother.

In many ways, this had the potential to be an intriguing, dynamic character study, following one of the most famous actresses of all time as she made a radical transition from Hollywood to European monarchy. In reality, however, it seems as though screenwriter Arash Amel grew the script in his garden: it is unbelievably wooden and totally superficial. In fact, you could fashion a very nice side-table from the dialogue which is both toe-curling and uninspiring in equal measure. Nicole Kidman does look the part of Grace Kelly, floating around the palace in pretty frocks and occasionally butting in on matters of politics (much to her husband's annoyance). Each scene, however, is plagued by the appalling and lethargic screenplay which is the film's fundamental weakness.

Much of the plot is centred around the – frankly rather dull – minor diplomatic crisis in 1962, which saw France briefly blockade Monaco as Charles de Gaulle was angered by its reputation as a tax haven. Cue, then, dramatic shots of Grace marching up to the barbed wire, offering food to the French forces and tense scenes in the palace as she rushes down the corridors in search of a traitor in her husband's court, and a plethora of dodgy French accents, last heard coming from the mouth of Inspector Clouseau. The whole thing is laughable.

Tim Roth, in the role of her husband, seems to get through about five cigarettes per scene and lounges about the palace as if he's given up on the whole monarchy thing: quite why Grace married him is a mystery. Surely it can't have been for the countless dresses, hats and diamonds which make the film look like an extended Dior commercial. The camera certainly moves with a deferential and rather inert attitude towards its subject: Dahan seems so keen to get under the skin of Grace that his extreme close-ups threaten to become medical examinations of Kidman. Emotional turmoil must be in there somewhere!

In an attempt to secure favour with the people of Monaco, Grace seeks education on matters of etiquette, history and language from Derek Jacobi's Count Fernando D'Aillieres and confides in Father Francis Tucker for guidance. Frank Langella plays Father Tucker and seems to be the only cast member who can make the dialogue seem less hammy and more like a natural conversation, but even he can't lift the film from the depths of awfulness to which it plunged in the first fifteen minutes.

Both Kidman and Dahan have emphasised that Grace of Monaco is not an historical film or an accurate biopic of Kelly's life as a princess. But if it is not this, just what is it? There is no reason for its existence, no spark, no energy which could have made for a deep and telling film. In the end, the whole affair is poorly-constructed and staggering in its deference to characters that, surely, have an interesting story to tell. Kidman's performance is to be admired, if only for its sheer good-will. In the end, Grace of Monaco is a film so limp that not even Grace Kelly herself could have saved it.

Clapperboard Rating: * 

Edge of Tomorrow

Some people have a big problem with Tom Cruise. And it's not just the whole Scientology thing. He is somewhat of a divisive screen presence but, love him or hate him, he can certainly claim to be one of the biggest film stars in the world. Personally, I find him to be an engaging leading man and far from irritating (if the role is suited to his performance style, that is). In Edge of Tomorrow, Cruise starts out (or at least his character does) as an arrogant, pathetic and oily army officer but by the end, is transformed into a character with which the audience can empathise. And he acts the whole thing rather well.

Edge of Tomorrow is based on a science fiction novel by Japanese writer Hiroshi Sakurazaka and sees Cruise play military PR guy Major William Cage in a future world, who is deployed on the beaches of France to fight an alien invasion which is threatening the whole of humanity. Major Cage is, quite understandably, rather unwilling to march – or in this case, be dropped from a plane – to certain death, but despite his protestations, finds himself in the midst of a beach battle which looks rather like a futuristic version of the opening of Saving Private Ryan. In a plot twist, Cage gets sucked into a time-travelling system which means that every time he is killed, he is transported back to the beginning of the previous day, only to do it all again.

Now, many films have tangled themselves in fatal knots when it comes to time travel plot devices but director Doug Liman (The Bourne Identity) manages to keep the narrative relatively-coherent, whilst exploring many engaging moments which such a concept offers. Cage soon becomes entangled with bad-ass soldier Rita (played by Emily Blunt) and the two set out to destroy the alien monsters by fighting the same battles over and over again and learning something new each time.

It sounds as though this could become very tiresome, very quickly, but the film's skill in its action set-pieces and its use of humour means that the whole time travel gag works quite well. Of course, it can't run for the entire film but Liman performs a good juggling act between rather abstract ideas and adrenaline-pumping fighting. Just what the characters were fighting for, however, was rather intangible. Sure, the survival of humanity was at stake but the shots of London and a Paris felt rather idea empty: there was no real sense of the high stakes for which the characters were fighting for.

Both Cruise and Blunt put in nice performances, although some have complained of a lack of chemistry between the pair. But this isn't, in my mind, the point of the film and I found it quite refreshing that their relationship took a secondary position in narrative terms. The script kept the time travel stuff in-check and contained one or two good one-liners which lifted the film at the right points, just when it threatened to take itself too seriously.

Edge of Tomorrow is not ground-breaking or anything extraordinary but it is a solid, well-constructed and entertaining piece. It plays the time-travelling gimmick with enough invention and cohesiveness to carry the audience along and it does get rather exciting. Oh, and if you still don't want to see it because of your dislike of Tom Cruise, think about this: you get to see him killed over and over and over again. This is the perfect film for you. 

Clapperboard Rating: * * * 

The Other Woman

There is, unfortunately, a widely-held belief that 'chick flicks' or romantic comedies are, by their very nature, rather inferior to other film genres. Time and time again I've heard people review a romantic comedy with words to the effect of “well, it was never going to be good, what did you expect from a chick flick?!” It's almost as if people automatically enter the cinema with astronomically low expectations and simply accept a film's faults because it is a rom-com. This is both unfair and illogical. Look at the fantastic films which can be classed as chick flicks: Mean Girls, Breakfast at Tiffany's and Bridesmaids all have something intelligent and funny to say. And then there are films like The Other Woman.

Whilst reading this, just imagine me sighing throughout and you'll get the idea of just how rubbish this film is. Indeed, I'd rather not waste precious energy on lifting my fingers to type a review of a film which is completely without merit, inventiveness or spark. The Other Woman follows three women who have all been seeing the same man (played by Nikolaj Coster-Waldau). Leslie Mann plays his wife who lives in a big, lovely house and when Cameron Diaz's high-flying lawyer character turns up at their front door, the two realise that the man of their dreams is, in fact, a serial cheater. Then, would you believe it, they find out that he has been cheating on them both with Kate Upton. Mental. The trio then decide to team up and get their own back, with hilarious consequences. Or so the trailer would have you believe.

So, from the set-up, we can hope for a film about sisters doing it for themselves, a triumph of feminism, female empowerment and a witty subversion of gender roles. In reality, the resulting film is a vacuous re-hash of banal stereotypes with a limp script and none of the biting wit which could have worked so well in such a set-up. From a characterisation perspective, the three women are standard constructions of Hollywood femininity: there's the intelligent one, the busty one and the mad, cries-all-the-time kooky one (it's all about feng shui darling). Wow, that's so innovative. Indeed, there's a tendency nowadays in comedy to simply fall-back on actors shouting and gradually becoming more and more hysterical in a scene in order to create laughs. Whilst this may work for the first few occasions, a film which relies on such humour quickly becomes dull. Leslie Mann's character, in particular, suffered from this and her performance quickly grates on the audience. Cameron Diaz played, well, Cameron Diaz.

The fundamental issue with the film is this: if its main theme is one of female empowerment and women getting one over nasty, horrible men, then why are the characters themselves so hypocritical. The Other Woman would totally fail the Bechdel Test (Google it) as nearly every conversation in the film is about a man. The women initially bemoan the loss of their man, then realise they can get revenge with hair removal cream, growth hormones and laxatives, only to then to come to the conclusion that they can not live without a man for a few months. But never mind, these women are independent and head-strong, who can afford to fly off to Barbados at a moment's notice, stay in posh hotels, drive nice cars and waste time spying on their ex. Oh no, sorry, in the end they have to fill their vacuous lives with a rich man and a guy who owns a beautiful house on a beach front. I get that it's a film, but really?!

For a film with a good concept, The Other Woman simply fails to deliver anything new, witty or engaging. Annoying characters, contrived plot points and a lack of a decent script all amounts to a film with very questionable gender politics and tired jokes. Do yourself a favour girls, go and see When Harry Met Sally and see how it's really done. 

Clapperboard Rating: * *  

Bad Neighbours

It would be very easy for me to overuse a certain adjective in this review, and that adjective can be found in the film's title. Bad Neighbours (or, as it is known in America, Neighbors) will, I fear, perform well at the box office (indeed, it has knocked Spiderman 2 off the top spot in the US). This is both depressing and indicative of a cinema audience that has come to accept bawdy, lowest common denominator humour as the best that Hollywood comedy has to offer.

From a plot perspective, Bad Neighbours is very simple to explain: a couple (played by Seth Rogen and Rose Byrne) with a young child are enjoying suburban life until a college fraternity – led by Zac Efron – move in next door and disrupt their quiet existence. What ensues promises to be (from the trailer, at least) an exciting riot of sex, parties and sparky humour as two lifestyles collide head-on. In reality, however, the film is annoying, boring, under-written, unfunny, crude, narratively-anaemic and disappointing in almost every respect.

Let's begin with the performances. To say that Efron spends half of the film with his shirt off would be unfair, but it is apparent that his casting was largely based on his star power and physical screen presence; his character is certainly not likeable. Rogen plays the standard, shouty and slightly irritating frat boy character seen in many an American comedy and only Rose Byrne adds any sense of comedic subtlety to proceedings.

Despite a cast which is sure to attract audiences, the main issue with the performances is that they are not controlled or moderated by director Nicholas Stoller (Get Him to the Greek, Forgetting Sarah Marshall). The actors certainly seem to be having a whale of a time in front of the camera, but at the expense of comedic tempo. Stoller seems to have just shouted “action!” and let the dialogue run aimlessly without any discipline over the improvisation. As a result, jokes fail to hit their mark time and time again and I was left totally uninterested with the whole thing.

It is not just the lack of control over the comedy, the type of humour in the film presents significant problems. The jokes either centre on sex or bad language and the script's fundamental reliance on these begins to grate after only twenty minutes into the film. There's little true wit, comedic intelligence or engagement with such jokes. As a result, the performances struggle to rise above such a dull approach to laughs and Efron, in particular, feels underused and rather objectified. As for a narrative, well, you'd have to look pretty hard for one which has any sense of logic or which is remotely engaging.

Bad Neighbours is, in a word, bad. Badly-written, badly-directed and badly-constructed. Its style of comedy has the potential to shock and is almost as bad as the film's narrative which meanders all over the place. The end result, I'm afraid, is a boring and inert film – quite the opposite to a college fraternity party. If you still want to watch it, watch the trailer: all the best gags are in there. 

Clapperboard Rating: * *  

Pompeii

Don't get me wrong, I do like a bit of nonsensical entertainment every now and then. Sometimes, there's nothing better than sitting back in a cinema seat and letting bonkers visuals, thundering explosions and ridiculous story lines sweep you along in a cinematic whirlwind of delight. There is, however, a small caveat to this: no matter how mindless (and I don't use this term in a detrimental fashion) a film is, there needs to be some sense of an engaging narrative and compelling characters. Pompeii, marketed as a historical disaster epic, offers few surprises and even fewer thrills, mindless or otherwise.

It won't take much to explain the plot of Pompeii (which is, after all, one of the most famous stories from ancient times). Slave-turned-gladiator Milo must rescue his love from the corrupt Roman Senator Corvus against the backdrop of Mount Vesuvius, which erupts with devastating consequences for both Milo and the people of Pompeii. Kit Harington (of Game of Thrones fame) plays our hero and, it has to be said, does a fairly decent job, given the hammy dialogue which plagues the whole screenplay. He is, however, far too well-groomed for a Roman slave. Kiefer Sutherland's accent as Senator Corvus is certainly questionable but as a baddie, his performance is perfectly watchable. Every single role, however, felt under-written and lacked any true emotional depth. Whilst I was watching Pompeii, I was constantly comparing it with Gladiator and, as a result, the whole film felt rather sub-standard, superficial and flat.

In terms of spectacle, director Paul W. S. Anderson clearly set out to create a film which would make the most of the 3D format. The screening I attended was, however, in 2D (not a problem for me!) and it was plain to see that much of the shot construction and camera movement was geared towards 3D. I suppose that, if any film was going to use the technology, then a film with spewing lava, violent ash clouds and pyroclastic flows was probably going to make the most of the medium. Whilst the erupting Vesuvius was quite a spectacle, it seemed as though all the special effects budget had been blown (sorry!) on the volcano sequences, at the expense of the CGI city, which was a bit creaky at best.

That said, the fight sequences were quite exciting and woke me up when I found myself slipping into a stupor during the dull drama scenes. There was, fundamentally, a lack of emotional depth for a film about mass death and destruction: indeed, I've seen TV docu-dramas reconstruct the horror of Pompeii in a more affective and effective way. The love story narrative was absurd, making the Rose/Jack romance in Titanic look like Romeo and Juliet, and the contrived motivations for Milo's seeking revenge on Senator Corvus (who killed Milo's family) felt predictable and tired.

All in all, Pompeii simply lacks any realistic feeling, is undermined by poor characterisation and any compelling narrative. For all its crashing visuals, blood and epic ambitions, it is somewhat unremarkable and rather inert. Ironic, really, for a film with a massive explosion.

Clapperboard Rating: * *