American Sniper

At the grand old age of 84, Clint Eastwood has made another outing in the director's chair, this time at the helm of American Sniper, a troubling and dark thriller. Based upon the autobiography of US Navy SEAL Chris Kyle (who became famous – or infamous – for racking up over 160 confirmed kills during his time as a sniper in Iraq), the film has certainly ignited debates over the justifications of the Iraq war and attitudes towards killing and violence. American Sniper has done fantastically at the US box office (taking over $90m to date) and is certainly a tense, affecting and taut piece of cinema. But it is Clint Eastwood's evading of a moral commentary and an apparent poker face when it comes to the film's contribution to the debates on modern warfare which trap its main character in a cell of ambiguity: one which the audience cannot hope to penetrate.

The film I expected to see and the film that I actually saw were wildly different. American Sniper would, I thought, explore the strange dichotomy experienced by military snipers: the intimacy with targets afforded to them by their sights and their simultaneous geographical isolation from them. The psychological effects of such a dramatic juxtaposition and the intense, veracious violence with which snipers engage the enemy would make for an impressive screenplay. American Sniper, however, chooses to neglect such questions, choosing instead to focus on Chris Kyle's (Bradley Cooper) Iraq experiences as a backdrop for his becoming known as 'the Legend', both in the military and back home in Texas, where he achieved celebrity status.

Some have called this character focus (we only see the Iraq war through Kyle's eyes, or should that be sight) a fundamental flaw in the film, accusing Eastwood of making a boring and intellectually-anaemic film. I disagree, and there is nothing wrong with choosing to construct a whole film about Iraq around one character – this is, after all, an adaptation of an autobiography. We first encounter Chris Kyle on the rooftops of Fallujah as he makes the first (of many) intensely-difficult decisions: whether or not to shoot a young boy who is approaching American forces with a grenade. Kyle's decision catapults the audience into a flashback of Kyle's upbringing with his hunter father and his time as a rancher, before joining the SEALS after 9/11.

Eastwood's film in an incredibly macho one: from Kyle's early life in the heart of Texas (his fridge is adorned with a magnet inscribed with the apposite words “Don't mess with Texas") to his time in military training where men would throw darts into each other's backs in the pub, Eastwood retains a focus on male dominance in the theatre of war. The film's only female character of significance is Kyle's wife, Taya (played by Sienna Miller) who remains at home with all the accompanying worry, grief and frustration experienced by any partner of a serving soldier. It is through Miller's performance (and it really is a very good one) that the audience are exposed to the ideas that I thought the film would be about: guilt, relationships with family and PTSD. Kyle is troubled, most definitely, by his killing of Iraqis, but this is only captured fleetingly in the film. The real-life events of 2013 give the film a rather clunky ending and the extent to which this biopic glamorises its controversial subject is a little difficult for the audience to resolve. Whether Chris Kyle is a hero or a villain is very much open to interpretation, as is America's role in the invasion of Iraq and Eastwood has little to say on either front.

Bradley Cooper's performance carries the film and his vacant stare and authentic look (he put on 40 pounds for the role) are compelling to watch. I'm genuinely pleased to see actors such as Cooper and Channing Tatum take on more serious and powerful roles (Cooper's performance in this is enough to make me forgive him for The Hangover – just). His screen presence as an elite soldier is convincing and Eastwood's confident, precise and grounded movement of the camera, especially in the intense and thrilling final battle sequence, give the film a weight which would have otherwise been lost.

American Sniper's apolitical nature and its, at times, American flag waving, has stirred up great debate and anger amongst many. The film would have been stronger had it had something more definite to say, but Cooper's performance and Eastwood's assured direction of the scenes in Iraq, make it worth watching. It will unsettle some people and, perhaps, enrage others. But it is a film which will, if nothing else, spark a debate and stay with you for a while after the credits have rolled.

Clapperboard Rating: * * * 

Paddington

My habit of solo visits to the cinema (fuelled, in part, by this blog) has resulted in my attracting some rather questionable looks from cinema staff and a few embarrassing walks up the auditorium aisle, such as the time I went to see Magic Mike on my own. Yeah, awkward. 

It was, therefore, nice to have a reason to go and see Paddington, ostensibly a young children's film but, it turns out, one which offers something for everyone. I enjoyed it immensely and my two nieces, who provided me with the legitimacy to go and see the film, did so as well, awarding it “nine-and-a-half out of ten”. Although this blog has a rather different rating system, I'd agree wholeheartedly with the sentiment...

Based on the much-loved series of books by Michael Bond, Paddington sees the Peruvian bear emigrate to Britain where he is taken in by the Brown family. Mr Brown (Hugh Bonneville) is initially reluctant to have a bear in his home, but Mrs Brown (Sally Hawkins) and the Brown children (Madeleine Harris and Samuel Joslin) soon bring him round to the idea when it becomes apparent that a taxidermist (Nicole Kidman) is after Paddington for her collection.

The word that is most apt to describe Paddington would, I think, be “nice”. A slightly lazy adjective, I agree, but I use it to give the film high praise: Paddington is a nice, warm and affectionate film and director Paul King shows a clear love for the source material. King has managed to create a film which is well-judged in terms of tone and style: British eccentricity and humour– both in the characters and in the way the film is made – shines through and the script is both funny and touching.

Ben Whishaw gives his voice to Paddington (at one point Colin Firth was cast in the role) and certainly gives the CGI bear half of his life. Paddington's other half of realism is thanks to the incredible visual effects which animate Paddington's fur and movements in such detail, as well as his eyes which are stunningly life-like.

Bonneville is great in the role of Mr Brown and Julie Walters as the housekeeper Mrs Bird is a thrill to watch. Indeed, the whole cast throw themselves into the mad plot and action with great enthusiasm. Scenes of bears floating down staircases in bathtubs and outrunning a knife-throwing taxidermist may be ludicrous, but the film's genuine heart carries the audience along. The combined result of the energetic performances, tight script, amusing set pieces and animal technical wizardry is a real family film. Children will be delighted with the whole thing and there is plenty to keep the adults entertained. So go and borrow a child and...actually, just go on your own if you have to - it'll be worth it!

Clapperboard Rating: * * * *

The Hobbit: The Battle of the Five Armies

After 13 years, 6 films and countless dead orcs, Peter Jackson's visa in Middle Earth has come to an end. And what a gap year it has been. Many will have grown up with Jackson's films or, at least, have read the book which started it all off: J. R. R. Tolkein's The Hobbit. For some, Jackson got a little carried away in his turning of 350 pages of text into 8 hours of film but the last filmic foray into Middle Earth is confident, engaging and impassioned film making.

The Hobbit: The Battle of the Five Armies kicks off right in the middle of the action which we left in film two, The Desolation of Smaug. The angry dragon (voiced by the man of the moment, Benedict Cumberbatch) is still angry and raining fire down on the poor people of Laketown. The dwarves and Bilbo are still hanging around on the slopes of the Lonely Mountain, watching the unfolding drama and Gandalf is still hanging around (quite literally) at Dol Guldur, where Ringwraiths and Sauron make a threatening appearance.

If you haven't seen the previous two films, this all may seem a bit confusing. However, The Battle of the Five Armies does a good job of getting everyone back up-to-speed fairly rapidly. And this is one thing that the film does well: it romps along, quite unlike the first film, and (as the title would suggest) there's a lot of fighting. A lot. Indeed, the end battle sequence runs to some 40 minutes and beats the audience into submission. But the fighting is well-choreographed, exhilarating and the ranks and ranks beautifully-armoured elven soldiers will make even the most faint of Tolkien fans smile with joy. Jackson has again used the technical wizardry which was pioneered in The Lord of the Rings and the resulting battle sequences are very impressive.

The downside to these extended battle scenes is that the emotion of the narrative is sometimes lost, and the multitude of characters, together with their stories, are swamped under the weight of swords, breast plates and war cries. This has, for some critics, been a fundamental problem with the film: that the spectacle suffocates any true meaning in the film and that the film's plot rather is anaemic. I disagree as this film is the culmination of the previous two films' narratives and deserves to be all-singing and all-dancing. To go out without a bang would have been very dissatisfying.

Martin Freeman shines again as Bilbo, having perfected his quizzical look and character integrity and it is with genuine affection and warmth that characters from The Lord of the Rings make a return. Ian McKellen is Gandalf. No doubt about it. And it was nice to see the return of Cate Blanchett, Hugo Weaving and Christopher Lee. The “new” cast – mostly men and dwarves – also gave good performances and Richard Armitage's Thorin was quasi-Shakespearean. Billy Connolly even makes an appearance.

One of the most impressive things about The Battle of the Five Armies is the way it paves the way for The Lord of the Rings. The heartbeats of fans will be set racing when Legolas is sent at the end of the film to track down “the one they call Strider” and the film's close offers a definite, pleasing conclusion (Peter Jackson has certainly learnt from his mistakes with the never-ending endings The Lord of the Rings trilogy).

The Hobbit: The Battle of the Five Armies is a very enjoyable and satisfying film which appropriately concludes Jackson's time in Middle Earth. The film – and, indeed, the trilogy, doesn't have the weight or emotional punch of The Lord of the Rings but Jackson plainly cares deeply about the world of The Hobbit and the sincerity with which the films are approached has to be admired. The film is visually-spectacular and narratively-troubled, but I can forgive it almost anything. The chance to revisit the characters and the world of Tolkein, one last time, is not to be missed.

Clapperboard Rating: * * * *

Fury

War is hell. Many a war film seeks to represent this oft-quoted phrase in cinematic form and David Ayer's WWII tank action drama certainly seeks to give its audience a glimpse of the depravity of war. But above all the explosions, expletives and terror, does Fury manage to be more than a solidly made piece of entertainment?

Amongst Fury's impressive cast there's a more unusual character: Brad Pitt's hair. Never before have I seen such coiffured locks in a war film and hair which never strays out of place, even when confronted with a grenade or two. Such a resilient hairdo belongs to Staff Sergeant Don “Wardaddy” Collier (Pitt), who commands a tank known to its crew as “Fury”. But when Don and his crew are sent on a mission behind enemy lines, disaster strikes and the tank team find themselves out-gunned and outnumbered against the Nazis.

Let's begin with the good things – and don't get me wrong – there is plenty to be admired in this film. From a pacing perspective, David Ayer strikes an appropriate balance between action and scenes showing the soldiers during the more banal moments of war which sees the tanks trundling through the German countryside and the tank crews interacting with one another. The battle sequences are shot with a raw intensity and shocking realism which serves to hook the audience and draw them into the theatre of war. That said, such competent cinematography could have been used to trap the audience into the claustrophobic world of the tank, possibly one of the most hellish machines of battle. In a film about tank warfare, the camera felt rather under-used within the confines of the tank.

Just as the fog of war spread across Europe during the final, messy stages of WWII, so too does the screenplay of Fury (which was, incidentally, written by Ayer) create ambiguity through its characters and situations. The audience is, for example, first introduced to Brad Pitt's character as he pulls a German soldier from a horse and stabs him in the eyeball. A little later, he forces naïve new recruit Norman (Logan Lerman) to shoot a captured German soldier in the back. This is what war is, we're told. The other members who make up Fury's crew are a suitably motley bunch: Shia LaBeouf plays gunner Boyd “Bible” Swan, Jon Bernthal plays loader Grady “Coon-Ass” Travis and Michael Peña gives a good performance as the driver Trini “Gordo” Garcia.

All these characters are both endearing and repulsive simultaneously and I often found myself wondering whether or not I should be rooting for them. This is a great credit, I think, to Ayer's writing and the overall tone of the film. The film's denouement is an exhilarating and tense affair and, whilst the film's ending won't win any awards for originality, it is very satisfying.

Despite all the positives, I was left feeling that something was lacking which would make Fury a truly affecting and powerful film. Yes the fighting is thrilling and yes, the performances are assured, but the whole experience feels rather superficial. Fury might not quite achieve its quest to represent the actualities of war, but its dynamic set pieces, enjoyable performances and nicely choreographed action create a punchy and compelling film.

Clapperboard Rating: * * *

'71

Perhaps one of the most startling things about '71 is that it is the stuff of recent history: a dreadfully tragic and violent past which many alive today still remember. The characters and events in '71 may be fictitious, but the film's setting of the Northern Irish Troubles is a sad landmark in British twentieth-century history.

In '71, the troubled streets of Belfast become even more dangerous for the fresh-faced and rather naïve Private Gary Hook (Jack O'Connell) who is accidentally abandoned by his unit during a riot in 1971. Lost and with no way of telling friend from foe, Private Hook must find his own way back to the barracks and avoid the many who would wish to see a British soldier dead.

Directed by Yann Demange, '71 is a taut and compelling action thriller, anchored by an impressive and vulnerable performance by Jack O'Connell, an up-and-coming British actor last seen in the visceral prison drama Starred Up. O'Connell's performance is both powerful and engaging, and I'm sure that we'll see much more from him in the future.

The film excels in its threatening and unsettling tone and Yann Demange's recreation of the bleak streets of Western Belfast, where burning cars stand as eerie monuments to Catholic and Protestant conflict, creates an almost suffocating atmosphere. Such an atmosphere, lit by unforgiving amber street lights, draws the audience into the awfulness of The Troubles and, in particular, makes the predicament of O'Connell's character all the more tortuous.

A wide ensemble of characters, from Unionists to Nationalists, and army officers to undercover agents, are managed with skill by the director, who cleverly orchestrates the cast into the 140 minute running time and never allows individual situations to be sidelined. Each death, betrayal and loss feels immediate and affecting. There were one or two plot points which were rather predictable but the performances, haunting cinematography and urgency of Hook's perilous situation mute such concerns and result in a film which is powerful and horrific in equal measure.

Aside from well-crafted action sequences and appalling moments of violence, the film's frenetic pace and dark thrills come from the pulsating soundtrack from David Holmes. If ever a film's soundtrack could take credit for the sense of drama on screen, this would be a prime example. Although the events in '71 are a result of intense and violent politics, the film itself is not a political work and does not seek to comment on the politics of the era or the ignorance of some who fought in the conflict (indeed, when Hook is asked whether he is Protestant or Catholic, he tellingly replies “I don't know”). Instead, its sole focus is survival, the survival of Private Hook and his desperate attempts to escape the hell hole of Belfast in 1971.

'71 is a bold, thrilling and harrowing piece of film-making which never releases its stranglehold on the audience. While its performances, plot, action and score are all impressive, the film is at its most striking when you consider its basis in very recent – and tragic – fact. 

Clapperboard Rating: * * * * 

What We Did On Our Holiday

Like most genres of film, comedy has many sub-genres. Recently, for example, The Inbetweeners 2 has shown that gross-out comedy can make millions at the box office (£22 million in a month, to be precise) and 22 Jump Street capitalised on the popularity of the action-comedy genre. 

Just as The Inbetweeners 2 made the transition from TV to cinema, so too does the style of comedy found in the BBC series Outnumbered. The translation from the small screen to the cinema is not always smooth, and TV comedies sometimes struggle to find a cinematic sensibility. But What We Did On Our Holiday, from the writers of Outnumbered, manages to not only make the transition, but does so in an engaging and feel-good way.

Andy Hamilton and Guy Jenkin have a very recognisable style of comedy, characterised by low-key and rather mundane set-ups and semi-improvisational scripts, all of which create humour which is funny because it is instantly recognisable. For their first cinematic outing, Hamilton and Jenkin have continued to play to their strengths by writing dialogue with which the audience can identify and by letting the child actors improvise, often to hilarious effect.

What We Did On Our Holiday is not, however, a just a rehash of Outnumbered. It provides the audience – as all TV comedies must in a move to the big screen – with something new and, in this case, a new family and an altogether more extraordinary plot. The film follows the McLeod family as they visit Scotland for their grandfather's (Billy Connolly) birthday party. The only trouble is, Abi (Rosamund Pike) and Doug (David Tennant) are embarking on a divorce and must attempt to keep this secret from their extended family. But when a day out to the beach takes a tragic turn, the three McLeod children (Emilia Jones, Bobby Smalldridge and Harriet Turnbull) take matters into their own hands.

The quirks of family life are amplified in What We Did On Our Holiday and whether it is the youngest McLeod child's perverse attachment to a brick called Norman, or her older sister's insistence on keeping a notebook with all the lies that she must remember to tell her family about her parent's situation, there are some very touching moments in the film. The absurdity of Billy Connolly's situation cannot fail to generate a laugh and even if the film just manages to stay on the right side of cinematic, the style of comedy shines through.

The cast is, most certainly, very watchable and features a whole host of British acting talent. Tennant and Pike play the antagonistic couple very well and Billy Connolly is on fine form as the grumpy, but sweet-natured grandfather. Ben Miller and Celia Imrie add to the ridiculousness of the story, but it is the child actors who give the most laughs and are a joy to watch. The snappy and funny dialogue sustains the film's running time and, for the most part, keeps the audience on-side even when the more sentimental sections of the plot threaten to spill over into saccharine schmaltz. The most affecting performances come from Tennant and Jones (who plays the eldest daughter) and their father/daughter relationship explores many themes with which any family can identify.

Love, death and familial bonds are all explored and it is credit to Hamilton and Jenkin's writing that the film always feels good-natured and warm-hearted. Although the whole set-up is ludicrous (in contrast to the everyday normality of Outnumbered) and the plot's resolution rather predictable, What We Did On Our Holiday rings true on many levels and is a well-judged observation of family life and its myriad of troubles and delights. 

Clapperboard Rating: * * * * 

What We Did On Our Holiday is released nationwide on 26^th September

What If

Hazza Potts is trying his hand at something new: romcoms. Daniel Radcliffe's post-Potter career has been nothing if not varied. From frolicking naked in the stage show Equus to wandering around haunted houses in The Woman in Black, it would seem that Radcliffe is willing to try his hand at anything. And so, his latest film What If sees him attempt to update that age-old question: can men and women really just be friends?

Many things in life annoy me. Slow walkers, people saying “myself” when they really mean “me”, dog owners who think that everyone else likes dogs, and film dialogue which sounds like the writer has thought about each line for two weeks. You know the sort, dialogue that's hugely contrived, trying to be clever and zany and ends up being nothing like conversations which take place in the real world. Many of the conversations in What If fall into this trap. Take one of the opening scenes, for example, where Wallace (Radcliffe) first meets Chantry (Zoe Kazan) at a house party. It's a scene conducted entirely with one-liners and is far too hokey to be engaging. Indeed, I wanted to give all the characters a good slap. As the film progressed, the dialogue did get a little more tolerable but the damage had already been done.

Aside from scripting issues, the overall tone of the film is really rather annoying. You only have to read the characters' names – Wallace, Chantry, Dalia and Allan, with two 'ls' – to guess at the 'alternative' aspirations of the film-makers. But, far from being a novel reinterpretation of When Harry Met Sally for the texting generation, What If squanders any potential with its ending, which is as predictable and unsurprising as England's World Cup performances.

However, despite all the try-too-hard hipness, unrealistic characters and unremarkable plotting, What If hit home. There were individual sequences, moments of snatched dialogue which rang true. When Harry Met Sally is, without a doubt, a far better exploration of male/female relationships and the definitive film on the topic. But the awkwardness of Radcliffe sometimes cuts through the kookiness and mirrors the best of When Harry Met Sally, updating the themes for the present day. Before you think that I got sucked into the film and developed an affinity for the characters and their predicaments, I didn't. But What If is a great example of the mantra that you get out of a film what you bring to it – in other words, certain moments struck a chord with me and made me reflect on real-life issues. The characters may not be likeable but that doesn't stop you transposing your own concerns onto them and leaving the cinema with a fresh-perspective.

I'm glad I saw What If. Not because it's a good film: it's rather forgettable and unsuccessful at contributing to the debate on friendship and love in the twenty-first century. But if it sets you thinking, makes you realise the priorities in your own life and sparks a new momentum in your thoughts, then it can't be all that bad. 

Clapperboard Rating: * * *