New Year's Eve

Michelle Pfeiffer. Robert De Niro. Jessica Biel. Sarah Jessica Parker. Hilary Swank. Ludacris. Halle Berry. Zac Efron. Lea Michele. More stars than on your average Christmas tree. And certainly more than this film deserves.

New Year's Eve is the latest offering from Garry Marshall, whose previous cinematic delights (cough, cough) include The Princess Diaries 2: Royal Engagement and, crucially to this film, Valentine's Day. Now, anyone who has seen Valentine's Day will know what to expect with New Year's Eve as it follows the same style: a significant day is used as the backdrop for the personal and professional problems of various characters to be overcome. Last year, it was finding love. This year, it's a ball dropping. The main plot of the film is centred around Hilary Swank's character who is in charge of the New Year's Eve celebrations in New York's Times Square. She must, at all costs, make sure that the giant ball (which marks the start of the New Year and is apparently a big thing in the States) drops as the countdown to 2012 begins. Throw in some interweaving storylines and enough shots of Lea Michele singing to rival your average Glee episode, and you've got yourself the perfect film to end the year. Right? Wrong.

No words can describe how dire this film is. Fact. But I'm going to try anyway. First off, the characters are the most annoying bunch of people you're likely to meet. Their two dimensional, materialistic, shallow and totally defunct lives leave the audience totally apathetic to their situations which, quite frankly, are ridiculous. Take two of the 'branch-out' story lines. The first concerns two couples who are about to become parents. They hear that if their child is the first to be born in the New Year, they win $25,000. Now, any normal person would be happy enough with a healthy baby and mother, but no, these characters are more concerned with getting their hands on the cash. It doesn't matter if the mother feels pressured and anxious about being the fastest to give birth because, hey, it's all about the money. The supposedly 'emotive' and 'feel-good' ending to this pathetically sickening plot strand is enough to put you off the whole film. But no, there's more! The second vomit-inducing plot features Robert De Niro, who, it could be argued, did this film to pay the bills. He plays a dying Vietnam veteran, who wants to make it to the New Year, with supposedly no family to be with him during his final hours. It turns out (and this is not a spoiler because if you didn't see this coming, you really weren't trying) that Swank's character is his daughter. So, what do you do if your father has a few hours to live? Devote your entire time to making sure the New Year's Eve ball drops in Times Square of course! Never mind good old dad...

No-one, and I mean no-one, will enjoy this film. With more product placement than in an ad break for The X Factor, it is clear that the film is simply a commercial vessel, aimed at printing money at the expense of any artistic merit. Hilary Swank's 'inspiring' speech to the waiting crowds in Times Square was nothing short of farcical and raised more than a few chuckles in the audience I endured the film with. The last five minutes of the film, i.e. the bloopers, were the most bearable of the entire 118 minutes, during which time I had worked out exactly how to kill myself by using my ticket to paper-cut my wrists. New Year's Eve is so misjudged as a piece of film-making, so sickening and so superficially focused on sentimental drivel that it seems to be drowning in its own ghastliness. However, there is one redeeming feature. Should the NHS ever need an alternative to stomach pumping, showing patients this film will more than suffice. 

Clapperboard Rating: * 

Hugo

I'll make no bones about it. 3D is not, and will never ever be, my thing. I find it (as loyal readers will know) annoying and totally unnecessary and it is only there to make money and to make films more difficult to pirate. And yet, as I sat watching Hugo (in 3D), I found myself enjoying the stereoscopy element of the film. I felt slightly guilty in this enjoyment, as you do when you laugh at someone who trips over comically but, nevertheless, the 3D (and I never thought I'd say this) added to the film. Oh dear. Next I'll be saying that any Jennifer Aniston film is a metaphysical critique on social conventions...or maybe not.

Hugo is the latest offering from Martin Scorsese and is slightly unusual for a director whose past work includes Taxi Driver, Goodfellas and Shutter Island. Starring the epic Ben Kingsley and the promising Asa Butterfield, Hugo examines the magic of the beginnings of cinema by following Hugo, a young orphan child who winds and repairs the clocks in a 1930s Paris railway station. Scorsese and the production designer, Dante Ferretti, have created a distinct visual world, where even the snowflakes seem to have been touched by cinematic enchatment. Of course, these snowflakes were flying out of the screen 'at' me but, as I shall explain later, it kind of worked. Much of the story was set in the station which, with its bustling atmosphere and beautiful sets, was an enchanting focal point for the narrative. The narrative itself was engaging and was surprising in that it favoured dialogue rather than action sequences which seem to be the default in many children's films. Studios need to remember that little Charlie can sit still without an action set piece being rammed down his popcorn-filled throat every five minutes.

One of the stand-out aspects of the film was the performances which were, for the most part, impressive. Sir Ben Kingsley plays Georges Méliès, the pioneer of early cinema, and commands the screen with a sensitivity and forcefulness which allows fourteen year old Asa Butterfield to excel in his delightfully engrossing role as Hugo. Butterfield's ability to capture both the optimism and uncertainty of youth in a single glance leads me to think that he has a bright future as the face of British acting talent. A strong supporting cast gelled with the central performances, although I felt that Sacha Baron Cohen's role as the station inspector was slightly misjudged. Although his performance wasn't bad, his presence in a film such as this was like inviting your grandma on your honeymoon: unsuitable. On another level, there were some pacing issues in the first hour and the scene where Hugo's friend (and the god-daughter of Méliès), Isabelle (Chloë Grace Moretz), is knocked over by the passengers in the station seemed to jar with the rest of the film.

And now, to the 3D. As I thought about the film on the way home from the cinema, I realised why I had found the 3D bearable, even enjoyable. Every poster for a 3D film proclaims that it will 'immerse' you in the world of the film. However, the 3D effect does quite the opposite. Putting on those silly glasses reminds the audience constantly that what they are watching is, indeed, only a film; a mechanical process. 3D is more self-conscious than the feeling you get when you walk past a policeman. But this is why Hugo works. The film focuses on the mechanics of cinema – the noises of the film projector, the whirl of wheels, the clunk of ratchets and the click of cogs, all of which play an important part in the sound design. Scorsese's love of cinema is clear in the film. And it is because of this that the 3D works. Hugo is about the magic, the mechanics and the technicalities of cinema and as you sit in the audience, looking like a member of a Where's Wally? convention, you become aware that the 3D is complementing these themes. And when you go with it, it's quite good fun.

So Hugo. Go and see it in 3D. Pay that little bit extra, even if it means that studio bosses will be laughing all the way to the bank this Christmas. Oh, and Scorsese says he wants to make all his future films in 3D. Whatever next...?!

Clapperboard Rating: * * * *

The Deep Blue Sea

I've always thought that one of the qualities of film which sets it apart from other art forms is the power it has to transform the mundane and banal into a visual masterpiece. Every now and again, a film comes along which is so dazzlingly brilliant in terms of its visuals that it puts the iPhone as a piece of design to shame. The Deep Blue Sea is one of those films. Masterfully directed by Terence Davies and adapted from an original play by Terence Rattigan, The Deep Blue Sea not only showcases a wealth of British talent (in the form of Rachel Weisz and Tom Hiddleston) but it does so in a way which lifts the film from being your average period drama. The atmosphere of the film is brilliant and every shot seems to have been meticulously planned and constructed to within an inch of its life. But, you know what? The end result is nothing short of beautiful.

Rachel Weisz plays Hester, the wife of a powerful judge who embarks on a self-destructive affair with an RAF fighter pilot, played by Hiddleston. This type of story has, of course, been tackled before but The Deep Blue Sea brings a totally new quality and dimension to such a plot. The performances, especially by Weisz, were superb and really allowed the audience to engage with the characters and empathise with their situations even though, at times, their actions could be quite vexing. It was unsettling to see a female protagonist who, whilst having a strong will, seemed incapable of controlling the situations around her – something which made the plot all the more believable. Hiddleston's performance, also, was confident and the supporting cast added depth to the film. The narrative was not perfect and at times got a bit confusing due to the use of flashbacks but, on an overall level, it worked. The central relationship of Hester and Freddie (Hiddleston) worked well and offered a dynamic counterpoint to the life she had led with her husband. One of the most powerful scenes, for me, was when her husband gave her a belated birthday present even though she was with her lover Freddie. Such a simple act spoke volumes and demonstrated the skill which Davies has as a director and screenwriter.

One of the most striking elements of The Deep Blue Sea is its cinematography. The most commonplace items were shot in a way which made them a pleasure to watch – even the cigarette smoke seemed to have had to audition to prove its visual brilliance. This was largely helped by the lighting which created an oppressive yet optimistic atmosphere to mirror the characters' emotions. Not since you walked round the lighting department at Ikea have you seen such a glorious display of light. Furthermore, the sound design was interesting as there was very little music throughout the film. Instead, the dialogue of the characters was very harsh it terms of how it sounded and this not only reflected their attitudes towards one another but almost negated the need for a musical accompaniment. Yeah, I know I'm comparing dialogue to music (what an idiot, you must be thinking) but, genuinely, the effect was marked. All of these elements, combined with solid acting and beautiful cinematography creates a film which, although not perfect, is simply a joy to watch. However, The Deep Blue Sea will divide opinion (RottenTomatoes.com gives it an 86% critic rating compared to 46% of the audience). You will either love it or hate it. Me? Take a guess...

Clapperboard Rating: * * * *

The Twilight Saga: Breaking Dawn, Part 1

I am well aware that in writing this review, I am addressing an army of teenage girls the size of which hasn't been seen since Justin Bieber was spotted doing a kissogram in Blackpool. The seemingly religious following which the Twilight Saga has created has bemused many but obviously reflects a certain quality which runs throughout all the films and which appeals to a very specific demographic. The first three Twilight films made over $1,800,900,000 and have become one of the most financially successful film franchises of all time. The second film, New Moon, broke box office records by having the biggest midnight screening and opening day receipts in history. Not bad for a series which many critics have dismissed quicker than an offer for a free massage from Edward Scissorhands.

The Twilight Saga: Breaking Dawn, Part 1 (what a snappy title!) has been eagerly anticipated by the fans and, for the most part, positively received by them. However, the vast majority of critics have given it very unfavourable reviews and, for the most part, I disagree. In order to give Breaking Dawn a proper appraisal, it is necessary to watch it bearing in mind the audience at which it is targeted. Directed by Bill Condon, the fourth instalment follows Bella (Kristen Stewart) as she marries vampire Edward Cullen (Robert Pattinson) and falls pregnant. As the child grows inside her, it soon becomes clear that Bella's life is in danger and that the birth of a vampire-human will create new problems for the vampire coven and their rivals, the werewolf pack. The film started with what has become the Twilight trademark; Taylor Lautner took his shirt off, Robert Pattinson gave his 'I'm about to eat you' look and Kristen Stewart delivered her lines with as much enthusiasm as if her pet dog had just died. Maybe I'm being a bit harsh. But what I'm trying to say is that the first half of the film follows the formulaic style which has made the previous films so popular – that is to say, a focus on Bella and Edward's relationship. Many have called this first half slow, dull and uneventful. I have to say that, whilst it did have some pacing issues, the first half explored Bella and Edward's relationship in a way which had not been done before. Condon brings a sense of inwardness and intimacy to the two characters and their predicament which, by definition, takes a lot of screen time to develop.

This instalment has lost a certain edge that the first film had and looks less distinctive in terms of cinematography. Gone are the blue filters which permeated Twilight, to be replaced by a warmer, more aesthetically-pleasing colour scheme – a nod to Bella and Edwards deepening relationship? I think not. But either way, the visuals looked a bit too Hollywood and a bit too polished and I think this is a shame as the original film almost had a Gothic-esque look to it which I liked very much. I was also unsure about the soundtrack which at times felt obtrusive and totally unsuited to the drama playing out on screen. On another level, the 12A certificate was a surprise as the content of the film (not so much the sex, but the blood and body horror) was definitely bordering on a 15 rating. I reckon the distributors slipped the BBFC a cheeky tenner and a signed Taylor Lautner calendar. These issues aside, my overall response to the film was positive. I am in no way a fan of Twilight and Breaking Dawn is not the sort of film you'd go to see (having not seen any of the others) on a rainy Sunday afternoon if there was nothing else on at your local multiplex. The film, by its very definition, requires the audience to be a fan.

And that is what annoys me the most about critics' reviews of The Twilight Saga: Breaking Dawn, Part 1. The vast majority make no attempt to consider the film in terms of 'fandom'; there's nothing seriously wrong with the film and it works within the context of a fan audience. The fact that (as this goes to 'print') on RottenTomatoes.com, Breaking Dawn was liked by 28% of critics compared to 92% of the audience, speaks volumes. The phrase 'this film wasn't made for the critics' is banded about all too frequently but in this case, I think it is adept. The teenage girl audience is often ignored by Hollywood which, instead, tends to produce series of films for teenage guys (Transformers, Star Wars, Die Hard) and when the occasional teen girl flick does come along, it is lambasted by critics as infantile drivel. Breaking Dawn, Part 1 is not high art. But that's okay. It works within the context in which it was produced. And you know what? It's high-time some critics got over themselves. 

Clapperboard Rating: * * * 

Immortals

My viewing of Immortals (in 2D!) will always stick in my mind. Why, I hear you ask? Well, it was the first time I'd been to the cinema where I'd been the only person in the audience. And boy, was it good. I could pick my own seat, right in the middle of the auditorium, with no-one sat in front of me to disrupt my view and no inconsiderately tall person sat behind me, kicking my seat every two minutes. There were no rustling crisp packets, no buckets of over-priced popcorn and no mobile phones constantly vibrating and illuminating the auditorium as if guiding a plane into land. Perfect. If only the film had lived up to this.

Immortals is loosely based on Greek mythological characters, namely Theseus (Henry Cavill) and his struggle against the evil King Hyperion (Mickey Rourke). Throw in a few gods, more topless men than you could shake a bottle of baby oil at and you've got yourself Hollywood's answer to Homer's Iliad. Now, I'll start off with the positives. The film, directed by Tarsem Singh, has an unusual visual style which almost works. There's a heavy use of CGI and, whilst it's proficiently executed, it lacked the flair which would have lifted the film up a level. In general, the costumes and sets were interestingly constructed, although the costumes of one or two of the characters looked as if they'd been hired from the Old Vic's Christmas production of Aladdin (and no, this isn't a good thing). The key to any film of this nature is, of course, its action sequences which, I have to say, were paced rather well. The violence in these sequences was graphic, but not totally over-the-top and worked within the context of the narrative. In general, however, the narrative felt slightly disjointed and the action sequences seemed to occur in isolation. Things were not helped by sections of dialogue which could have been written by a primary school child.

The performances were flat and forgettable and even John Hurt seemed to be floundering against a cast which had as much twinkle as a wet sparkler. And then there's Mickey Rourke. As the megalomaniac King Hyperion, his performance is suitably dark but, at times, I found it difficult to understand what he was saying. His trademark 'my-vocal-chords-have-been-attacked-with-a-cheese-grater' voice may have suited the dark character he was portraying but at times it verged on the comedic. But again, his character (along with all the others) lacked a depth or back story which would have made the film all the more enjoyable. Cavill's Theseus was also very two-dimensional and this resulted in an overall absence of empathy towards his predicament. It would seem that the writers bypassed characterisation in favour of muscle.

An obvious point of comparison for this film would be Leterrier's Clash of the Titans or Snyder's 300 (the Immortals poster boasts the same producers as 300). Whilst Immortals lacks the distinctive visual punch of 300, it is certainly comparable in terms of violence. As I've said, I felt the violence in the battle sequences was justified but I was slightly unconvinced by certain scenes in King Hyperion's court. It's interesting to note that the BBFC cut the film at the request of the distributor in order for the film to achieve a 15 rating. In the words of the BBFC, cuts were made to remove 'the bloody focus on a throat being cut, reducing the focus on young women dying, having been burnt...the focus on eye gouging...the shot of a beheading, and reducing some focus on large splashes of blood resulting from characters being killed'. Whilst the cut version is still graphic, I think, contextually, it's much more appropriate. Full marks to the BBFC.

So, my overwhelming feeling towards Immortals? It's as flat as a Yorkshireman's cap and it could have been much tighter, deeper and more emotive. Basically, I sat down on my own, in a deserted cinema, some stuff happened in front of me and I left. That's it. But one thing's for sure: immortal they ain't.

Clapperboard Rating: * *

The Help

This film should never have been made. In fact, it's a sad testament to humanity that it was. I don't mean that it's a bad film: merely that the events portrayed in the film are based on fact. The film shouldn't have been made because there shouldn't have been a history for it to take place in. But the fact remains that there was. And this is what makes The Help all the more heartbreaking.

It was with a degree of trepidation that I went to watch The Help as I had read, and very much enjoyed, the book by Kathryn Stockett on which it is based. Film adaptations of novels are always a risk – they can go one of three ways. The film can capture the essence of the book perfectly, remaining faithful to the original text and therefore become as celebrated as the book itself. On the other hand, a film adaptation can re-interpret the original text, approaching the themes from a new and exciting angle. Or, finally, a film adaptation can totally destroy the heart of the original text as if the film makers decided it would be a laugh to reinterpret something in the manner of Katie Price's cover of 'A Whole New World' (for example, the awful film that was The Time Traveler’s Wife). I can happily say that The Help does not fall into this last category. As with the novel, the film follows aspiring author and society girl Skeeter Phelan as she attempts to write a book giving the view point of the black domestic help in white households in 1960s Mississippi. At first she finds it difficult to find any maids willing to open up and tell their stories but when Skeeter's best friend's maid, Aibileen, agrees to talk, it soon becomes clear that they are playing with fire.

First off, the performances are terrific, with Viola Davis as the tortured and life-weary Aibileen giving a performance which is surely an Oscar-contender. A strong cast, including Emma Stone as Skeeter and Bryce Dallas Howard as the fearsome Hilly Holbrook, makes the story all the more touching and creates a world which seems removed and alien but unnervingly real. The cinematography is graceful and perfectly captures 1960s small-town America, as do the superb costumes and hairstyles, with more beehives in sight than in an episode of Winnie the Pooh. The script worked well and struck the right balance between comedy and drama and this coupling of humour and serious drama worked wonders. The sad moments in the film (and trust me, there more than a few) work so well and have such an effect on the audience because, five minutes previously, you were laughing. However, this mixing of emotions is where the film fell down slightly. Such a serious issue such as civil rights deserves to be treated thoroughly and I felt that, in general, the film seemed to gloss-over the issue, giving a prettified and superficial representation of the troubles. This is not to say that the film did not try to address such issues but I felt that it didn't go far enough.

At 2 hours, 26 minutes, The Help is longer than your average film but the plot is so well paced and the narrative so engaging that it is hardly noticeable. The interactions between the maids and their employers are at times confrontational, funny, disturbing, warm and uplifting and it is these scenes which are the stand out moments in the film. The second half of the film is, no doubt, both powerful and devastating. If you fail to be moved by Aibileen's denouement then, I'm sorry, you're not a fully formed human being. Even though I'd read the book and knew what was coming, I was still an emotional wreck by the final shot and, you know what, I don't care. Even though every opportunity to tug at your heartstrings is exploited to the full, the nature of the film demands that you go along with it and that, in my mind, is no bad thing. Viola Davis' performance demonstrates just how effective a look or gesture can be and how it can replace a thousand words of dialogue. This performance was the highlight of the film. A sensitive score by the incomparable Thomas Newman reflected perfectly the domestic drama which was unfolding and certainly aided in tear production levels.

It is a sad fact that the film is based on reality – a reality that most Americans would rather forget. But The Help should be celebrated, just as the book is, for addressing such an important and emotive topic and I'm glad it has been made. This film will climb the Box Office Top Ten, as it deserves to, and the characters, performances and overall narrative make it worth seeing. Be prepared to have your heart broken, laugh uncontrollably and be taken on an emotional ride which is worth twice the ticket price. But ladies, please, wear waterproof mascara.

Clapperboard Rating: * * * * 

The Adventures of Tintin: The Secret of the Unicorn

First off, let me hold my hands up and say that I haven't read any of the Tintin Adventures and I'm sure I'm missing out on a rich, vibrant and exciting series of comic books which have been lovingly read by generations. So it was with this general ignorance of all things Belgian-related that I watched The Adventures of Tintin: The Secret of the Unicorn (the colon suggesting there are more films to follow). And let's say I was pleasantly surprised.

From the directorial juggernaut that is Steven Spielberg and producer Peter Jackson, The Adventures of Tintin: The Secret of the Unicorn follows Tintin and his faithful dog Snowy on their first adventure with Captain Haddock as they track down the lost treasure of Haddock's ancestor. What ensues is your fairly run-of-the-mill adventure with more smashed booze bottles and fights than down at your local Wetherspoons on a Friday night. The most interesting aspect of the film has to be its animation. Using motion capture cameras to film live action and then convert it into digital animation, the film is very striking. The locations are visually stunning (especially during the harbour chase sequence in Bagghar) and the attention to detail breathtaking. The animation is so realistic that I kept having to remind myself that I wasn't watching a live action film. This may sound a bit weird but, genuinely, it looks so real. If you're the type of person with a bit of a hand fetish, go and see this film as the characters' hands really are a thing of beauty (blimey, I never thought I'd say something like that!). Anyway, enough of how good it looks. Trust me, it's amazing. It's just a shame that other aspects of the film don't live up to the visuals.

The plot was...um...okay. Just okay. Nothing special, just...adequate. It took a little while to get going but, once it did, the plot did produce some spectacular set pieces (such as the fantastic fight on the pirate ship) which were made all the better by the fantastic animation. Spielberg's stamp was all over the film, both in terms of style and the slightly nostalgic and warm script which was fairly witty and did raise a few chuckles. Some solid voice acting from Jamie Bell in the title role, along with cinema giants such as Daniel Craig, Toby Jones, Andy Serkis and Simon Pegg, made the film very enjoyable. And yet, I felt that the character of Tintin was a bit of a let down. The character felt a bit flat and, ironically for a film in 3D, slightly two dimensional. There was no emotional depth and no back story to Tintin's character and it felt like he'd lost his personality somewhere between filming and the editing studio. In other words, Tintin's character had as much personality as a school dinner lady with gastroenteritis. Hopefully, however, this will be resolved in the next film which, I have to say, I am already looking forward to. And why am I looking forward to it? Because it's a good, Sunday afternoon film which you can just sit back and enjoy. Not effort required. And I mean this in a good way.

I liked the approach to the action sequences, specifically the fight scenes, where there was no shying away from violence which is often seen in films aimed at a younger audience. I don't mean it was very violent, just that the violence was justified in context and made the situations seem more realistic. In terms of characterisation, children will obviously love Tintin's dog Snowy who, in many ways, had more of a spark behind the eyes than Tintin. Moreover, I felt that the bowler-hatted Inspectors Thompson and Thompson could have made much more of a comedic impact than they did: the potential was there but, ultimately, the two characters served little purpose in the narrative. Despite its flaws, The Adventures of Tintin: The Secret of the Unicorn remains a fun and enjoyable film, which provides enough for both children and adults to keep them entertained and demonstrates what good animation can do to a film. However, a word of warning. Don't stare at Tintin's quiff for too long – it gets scarily hypnotic.

P.S. See it in 2D. Much better than 3D. And you'll save some money for the bus home.

Clapperboard Rating: * * *