Side Effects

Steven Soderbergh recently turned fifty (coincidentally, on the same day as my twenty first) and announced that he was to fold away his director's chair one last time in favour of pursuing his love of painting. Aside from anything else, then, film-making seems to have been kind to his bank balance. Soderbergh's sex, lies and videotape won the Palme d'Or at Cannes in 1989 and since then he has proved to be one of the most diverse directors in the industry, bouncing from genre to genre like they were going out of fashion. Last year's Magic Mike was a prime example and Side Effects, his latest – and supposedly last – film is a tense and engaging thriller with plenty of surprises along the way.

Starring Rooney Mara, Jude Law, Catherine Zeta-Jones and Channing Tatum, Side Effects is striking for its eclectic cast list and it was somewhat surprising what a good ensemble they made. Emily Taylor (played by Mara) is reunited with her husband (Tatum) after he has spent four years in prison for insider trading. A few days after his release, however, she attempts to commit suicide and is treated for depression under the care of a psychiatrist (Law) who prescribes her a new antidepressant drug, with devastating consequences. The film's central question concerns whether the drug made her do what she did or if her psychiatrist and the drug company are to blame. Look at the Wikipedia article for the film, and you'll note that the film is described as a 'psychological thriller-neo-noir' and the hybrid nature of the film has drawn criticism from some. One critic lamented the mix of 'court room drama, forensic thriller and romantic murder mystery' which created a confused and unconvincing narrative. I, on the other hand, felt that Soderbergh had rather brilliantly combined elements which perfectly reflected the film's themes of confusion and deception.

There are some beautifully-composed shots throughout the film and the claustrophobic, selective focus employed helped to draw the audience into the world of Taylor: a world which was intense and which lacked clarity. The camera moved with a lyricism which is often hard to come by, whether it was tracking the movement of a folder across a desk or simply an establishing shot of an apartment block. Dealing with a subject matter of drugs and the pharmaceutical industry, many of the scenes were, aesthetically, very clinical and I was struck by sequences which oozed blue and black tones, as if they had been captured by x-ray film. Obviously, that is somewhat of a hyperbole, but Soderbergh's ability to subtly highlight such themes was a joy to watch.

In narrative terms, Side Effects was perpetually enthralling and its plot twists and turns were genuinely surprising and, even though I'd worked out the main plot revelation some fifteen minutes before it was revealed, the film's skill in keeping me engaged was something to applaud. Jude Law's performance was intriguing to watch and he hasn't been on better form for a long time. Catherine Zeta-Jones was, um, rather menacing as his fellow psychiatrist and almost did enough to redeem herself for her sins in the abysmal Rock of Ages. Mara, too, was an enchanting screen prescence and I have a feeling we shall be seeing much more from her in the future. To return to Soderbergh's habit of jumping around with genres, the film did slip from one type of film into another and then another, and never really held a through-line which was strong enough to support its grand statements on morality. But this never detracts from its enjoyability or its successes.

Side Effects is a tense, intelligent and intoxicating thriller which successfully leaves the audience guessing and, in the end, satisfied with its conclusion. Mara, Law, Tatum and Zeta-Jones made for interesting performances and the aesthetic beauty of the camera work was a highlight of a generally successful piece of entertainment. If it is Steven Soderbergh's last film, then he's gone out on a high.

Clapperboard Rating: * * * *

The Paperboy

For my French A Level speaking exam, I talked for fifteen minutes about the Cannes Film Festival. I researched its history, knew my Official Selections from my Parallel Selections and could have easily told you who won the Palme d'Or in 1976 (it was Taxi Driver). Ever since then, I've always wanted to go to the festival and rub shoulders with the industry's great and good. Many established critics, however, turn their nose up at Cannes as if it were a corporate, shallow and self-aggrandising media circus and, actually, it is. But the thrill of attending would be fantastic. Anyway, to the point: Cannes critics are renowned for their vocal approval/disapproval of a film and The Paperboy, the new film from Precious director Lee Daniels, received a very negative reaction last year. Strange, then, that it isn't all that bad...

Loosely-based on the novel of the same name by Pete Dexter, The Paperboy is a very odd affair and fluctuates between the bizarre and the downright strange. Set in the sweltering summer of 1969, the film sees newspaper reporter Ward Jansen (Matthew McConaughey) and his younger brother Jack (Zac Efron) investigate a murder case which has resulted in an innocent man being sentenced to death row. Throw in an over-sexed bottle blonde (played by Nicole Kidman) and you've got a trashy thriller with a heavyweight cast list and plenty of atmosphere. Indeed, The Paperboy does rather well in the atmosphere department, somewhat at the expense of a forceful and driving narrative. Daniels' direction was rather limp in propelling the film along and allowed for too many seemingly irrelevant moments to really grip the audience.

Every frame of the film oozed cinematic heritage and looked as though it were photographed through a 1954 Leica camera, whilst some nice editing techniques were used to great effect. The film's aesthetic certainly contributed to its successes in terms of its trashy, pot-boiler feel and I was impressed by Daniels' cinematographic choices, even if his uneven narrative could have been strengthened. The whole cast put in good performances, especially from Efron, who has a face and a sensibility on screen which was perfectly suited to the film's era. The highest compliment I can pay Efron is that, if he were to pop up alongside Hoffman in The Graduate, I wouldn't bat an eyelid.

The road from the High School Musical franchise has been a fairly uneventful one for Efron although it has taken time for him to settle into his right type of role. The Paperboy is the first film in which I've been really impressed by him. The character of Jack is both troubled and conflicted. Lounging around in his underpants and yearning for a female prescence in his life, Jack is enigmatic, temperamental and sensitive and Efron's performance was exceptionally well-judged. The sexual tension with Kidman may raise a few eyebrows, and the less said about that jellyfish scene, the better. In more general terms, I felt that the dynamics between McConaughey and Efron were very believable and the quiet dreaming of Jack was a surreal but competently executed extra layer to a very unusual film.

Tonally confused but often startling, The Paperboy is a strange and perplexing film of sexual desire, truth and family. In many ways, I didn't like it. But there was something rather intoxicating about the sweat, soft cinematography and dynamic performances. It's not fantastic but it's far from uninteresting. What do those Cannes critics know...?

Clapperboard Rating: * * *

Safe Haven

Films, as with many things in life, are often predictable. Walk into a cinema showing Justin Bieber; Never Say Never and you'd expect the foyer to be heaving with throngs of teenage girls (and the occasional dutiful boyfriend). Even before watching the opening credits of a Michael Bay film, you'll know that the nutritional information on the back of a pot noodle offers a better narrative and is more prosaic than the impending 154 minutes of robots hitting each other over the head. And no one sits down to watch Mulholland Drive expecting to understand it.

Then again, predictability is not necessarily a bad thing. A film based upon the books of Nicholas Sparks should tell you three things. One, there'll be a romance which starts in the most unlikely of situations. Two, a female character with a troubled past will need a man who is similarly displaced to achieve redemption. Three, both of these characters will live impossibly comfortable lives and will be ridiculously good looking. Safe Haven, the latest Sparks adaptation is no different...

I have to admit that things didn't get off to a brilliant start. Safe Haven opens with Katie (Julianne Hough) frantically boarding a coach to Atlanta, apparently being chased by the police. The last time I saw Julianne Hough boarding a coach and pensively staring out of the window was in Rock of Ages – one of my worst films of last year. Things weren't looking good. Katie eventually reaches the small fishing town of Southport, North Carolina and strikes up a friendship with Alex, the local store keeper (Josh Duhamel). Katie soon becomes close to Alex, who is a widower with two young children, but in doing so, is forced to confront her dark past. You know the score.

The film plays itself out as you'd expect, with the exception of a rather ridiculous plot twist at the end which left me rather confused and feeling slightly cheated. Without wanting to give plot spoilers, lets just say I would have respected the film more if it had played its narrative straight down-the-line. There are some amusing and – at times – touching moments, especially in the scenes with Alex's two children. Suspend disbelief and all will be well. Performance wise, Hough and Duhamel do make for a good couple, if only for their compatible looks (as my friend remarked during a rather steamy scene, “their children would be so good looking!”). Even so, Hough seems too far-removed from reality to be a credible character but, nevertheless, I was mostly won over by the end of the film (I promise it was nothing to do with how attractive she is...well, only a bit).

The issue of reality, however, wasn't confined to Hough's performance. The location used in most of the film only exists on a postcard and the characters' immaculate houses, with exposed sanded-down wood only served to make the whole film rather unbelievable. If there's an actual town where policemen's highest priority is organising a firework display, then I'll be more than happy to praise the film for its realism. The cinematography was the inoffensive and easy-on-the-eye sort which shot the town of Southport as if it were an advert for the North Carolina tourist board. Watch Katy Perry's Teenage Dream music video and you'll be close to the delicately washed-out aesthetic which ran through much of the film. But maybe this is missing the point. No-one goes to see a Nicholas Sparks film expecting realism and actuality. These films (Dear John, The Lucky One and The Notebook are all Sparks adaptations) exist to be sanguine and done well, that's no bad thing.

Safe Haven is nothing remarkable, nothing innovative and exists in its own idealistic world. It does have an emotional heart and is pure escapism, plain and simple. But it is inoffensive, well-made escapism and for that, I can't criticise. 

Clapperboard Rating: * * 

Flight

I was recently sat in the departures lounge at Edinburgh airport and, as is so often the case, was rather strapped for things to do. Having wondered around duty free for a length of time which would have made me look like an alcoholic and indulged in my favourite sport of people watching, I picked up a free airport magazine. Flicking through it, I came across a full-page advert for Flight, a new film starring Denzel Washington and a film which, in its opening act, features a plane crash. Not the smartest bit of advertising PR to be honest. Still, I survived the flight and promptly went along to catch an afternoon screening of the film. Here's what I thought...

Flight sees the return of director Robert Zemeckis to live action films, having spent his last three films in the realm of computer animation – most recently with A Christmas Carol, Beowulf and The Polar Express. The film opens with a plane crash which would have been much worse had it not been for the skills and fortitude of its captain, Whip Whitaker (Denzel Washington) who manages to save most of the lives of the passengers and crew by correcting a nosedive by flying upside down. However, an investigation into the crash finds that Whitaker was high on drugs and alcohol when he was flying the plane. Many will be glad to hear that Flight is not based on a true story.

What you have here, then, is a tale of morality and one which poses an interesting question: should Captain Whitaker be punished for his actions or hailed as a hero – albeit, a hero who may only have been able to do what he did because he was drunk. Washington sets up a solid anti-hero and his character arc is both frustrating and appealing. We first see him waking up with a prostitute, swigging the dregs of last night's beer and snorting a line of coke before putting on his pilot's jacket and swaggering onto his plane ready for duty. After the crash we realise he has a severe drinking problem and must try and find a way to defeat his demons. And this is where, from a plot perspective, the problems begin.

The opening act (the events leading up to the crash and the crash itself) are well-paced, inventive and engaging. The crash is nicely shot and scored only by the frantic air traffic control chatter and the ominous beeping of cockpit instruments. But once the investigations into the crash begin, the film settles into a much more generic, run-of-the-mill genre picture. Whitaker's redemption in the under-written character of a recovering drug addict, Nicole (played by Kelly Reilly), is far too predictable and clichéd. A rather over-hyped performance by John Goodman as Whitaker's dealer also felt rather out of place. This doesn't detract from Washington's dependable performance as a conflicted and self-destructive man but it didn't seem to fit with the tone for which the film was aiming.

Personally, I felt that things began to drag half way through, although whether that was the fault of the film or the idiot sat in front of me who insisted on flashing his mobile around like he was guiding a plane into land, I don't know. Either way, the vast majority of the film could have been tighter. This isn't to say that it isn't enjoyable but it certainly isn't ground breaking in any way, shape or form. Flight is fine as a piece of film-making and equally entertaining. Denzel Washington is engaging as a male lead and the plot poses some interesting questions which, I felt, were mostly answered by the time the credits rolled. But it is most definitely a film of two halves: before the crash and after the crash. The former is much better and I'm afraid to say that things nosedive after it. Quite literally.

Clapperboard Rating: * * *

Zero Dark Thirty

Before we start, I'm not going to contribute to the debate surrounding Zero Dark Thirty with regards to its depiction of torture. Much better and more well-argued pieces exist on the subject than I could ever write. All I'll say is that such arguments are inherently flawed and as pointless as a shoe shop offering a Buy One Shoe, Get Another Free offer. Now, moving on...

Zero Dark Thirty could be seen as the next logical step for director Kathryn Bigelow to make, following her hugely-successful bomb disposal thriller, The Hurt Locker. With tense action sequences, male-dominated worlds and plenty of swearing, Zero Dark Thirty follows the hunt by the CIA to find and kill Osama Bin Laden: a story which spans ten years and which is condensed down, rather masterfully, into 2 hours 37 minutes by screenwriter Mark Boal. Centred on female CIA agent Maya (Jessica Chastain), the film is taut and very intense and the title, in case you were wondering, refers to Special Forces jargon for the time of night the operation took place.

The whole feel of the film is very factual. An intensity runs throughout the film in both the action sequences and the CIA meetings, a result of the great acting from the entire cast. Chastain's performance was utterly brilliant and she has firmly cemented herself as one of my favourite current actresses. Although some have criticised the Hollywood aesthetic of her character (at one point, she sports a pair of Ray-Ban aviators), I felt that her portrayal of an independently fierce, vulnerable and strong-willed protagonist was totally captivating. An impressive supporting cast helped the film feel very realistic which, I suppose, it naturally should have done as the events portrayed in it are rooted in reality. In many ways, Zero Dark Thirty is so effective and affecting because of this immediacy: there's a chase sequence in the frantic streets of Pakistan which, in any other film, would have had the veneer of the inconsequential Hollywood action sequence. The scene, however, is genuinely gripping and a sense of consequence is strongly developed by Bigelow. The film's subject matter dominates the news today, something which makes it all the more unsettling.

Bigelow's direction is superb and it is clear that she is a master of the genre. The film's denouement, despite the entire audience knowing the ending, is brilliantly, almost clinically, constructed and is a real thrill ride. Indeed, the entire film, from its disturbing opening shots of graphic torture to scenes set in White House boardrooms is riveting, largely a result of Bigelow and Boal's combined efforts. Much research has clearly gone into the film (interviews with CIA officials formed a significant part of this research) and the result is a fantastic mix of action, shock, politics and emotion, all underpinned by Chastain. Her character, Maya, remains defiant in the midst of male dominance, is accepted as 'one of the boys' when she finds the compound in which Bin Laden was hiding but, ultimately, remains isolated by the end of the film. A beguiling and tragic final shot sees Chastain as the exemplification of the CIA machine: integral to its inner workings but, in the end, forgotten.

Zero Dark Thirty is technically brilliant, emotionally engaging and manages to condense ten years of complex and difficult events into a screenplay which is a worthy follow up to The Hurt Locker. Its supposed politics aside, it scenes of torture are graphically portrayed but, to not do so in a film about this subject, would have been nearly impossible. It is an intelligent film, about intelligence gathering. Oh, and Jessica Chastain – wow. 

Clapperboard Rating: * * * * * 

Les Misérables

I can safely say that I was not looking forward to going to see Les Misérables. But, like going to the dentist, it was somewhat of a necessity. So I bit the bullet and went along with a few friends, both of whom were more enthusiastic than me (not that that would have been difficult). To be fair, I had no idea what to expect: I haven't seen the stage musical, read the original book and, like most people, I can only sing the first line of 'Do You Hear The People Sing' before slipping into humming the tune. And my conclusions? Les Misérables is a cinematic assault – and a 2 hour 40 minute one at that...

There are no prizes for guessing what Les Misérables is about but for those who don't know the plot, the story is set in revolutionary France where Jean Valjean (Hugh Jackman), who for decades has been hunted by the ruthless policeman Javert (Russell Crowe), agrees to care for factory worker Fantine's (Anne Hathaway) daughter and this fateful decision changes their lives forever. Looking back at the past sentence, you get an idea for the range of acting talent which is displayed in the film. Supporting cast members include Amanda Seyfried, Sacha Baron Cohen, Helena Bonham Carter and Eddie Redmayne, all doing their own singing live on set (or, in Crowe's case, attempting to sing).

All of the performances are confident and accomplished, constructing characters which, at times, cease to be mere caricatures of the peasantry and become genuinely engaging and emotive. Anne Hathaway, on screen for only fifteen minutes, is staggeringly good and her rendition of 'I Dreamed A Dream' may well win her the Oscar for Best Supporting Actress. Jackman gives an equally impressive central performance and his physical transformation from gaunt and emaciated convict to powerful business man and father was very convincing. He wasn't half bad at singing either. In fact, I was very impressed by the authentic feel which singing live on set gave to the songs, most of which I'd never heard and – if I'm being brutally honest – don't have the wish to hear again.

Les Misérables is certainly an experience: the film, from the opening scene, immediately hits fifth gear and doesn't stop until the credits role. Its sweeping shots of Paris and its inhabitants, expertly conceived by director Tom Hooper (The King's Speech) open up the world and make it totally consuming and captivating. Hooper has really understood how to use cinematic devices to build upon the stage show and create an experience which would be impossible within a theatrical context. Hooper's revolutionary Paris is gritty, threatening, squalid and the attention to detail of the production design is first class. Placed alongside the performances and the technical aspects, Les Misérables certainly is an achievement of which to be proud.

Things weren't all rosy, however, and I did feel the film begin to drag in its third act. Maybe the singing had worn me down, maybe I was just wishing it was Mamma Mia! and was waiting for Valjean to break into dance. In short, I think it could have shaved off a few musical numbers which would have made the whole thing a bit more digestible. But perhaps this isn't the point.

Les Misérables is an experience, a full-on musical assault which takes no prisoners and demands that the audience go along with it. If you're a fan of the musical, you'll adore it. If you're not, it will most probably win you over. There's a lot to like, although its not perfect. But in the moments when it does work, it is simply brilliant. And that is why it gets four stars...

Clapperboard Reviews: * * * *

Worst Five Films 2012

I don't want to sound nasty and vindictive in compiling this list but the films which follow are, from my reviewed films, the worst of 2012. If I sat you down and made you watch them back-to-back (don't worry, I'm not that heartless), you'd need to lie down in a dark room and listen to The Very Best of Enya album in order to calm down and prevent yourself from punching someone very hard in the face. If you've had the good fortune to have missed these films, please read this as a public health warning. Don't waste valuable hours of your life watching these putrid, vomitous, rotten, corrupted, vile, cynical and – above all – boring films.

5. 
   Wrath of the Titans

All show and no tunics, Wrath of the Titans proved that it was possible to so catastrophically misjudge the balance between story and action that I left the cinema delusionally thinking that Michael Bay's narrative cinema wasn't actually that bad. Starring Sam Worthington (Avatar, Man on a Ledge) as Perseus, the demi-god and son of Zeus, the film leaps from one set piece to another and totally bypasses any semblance of a plot. The action it favoured was flat, unenergised and even exploding mountains couldn't stop me wishing I'd stayed at home and alphabetised my Mum's cookbook collection. The relentless, tedious action seemed to be an attempt by director Jonathan Liebesman to try and hide the lack of a plot from the audience. Sorry Jon, it didn't work.

4. 
   Wanderlust

Annoying, painful and grating are all words which could be used to describe a migraine. They are, also, perfectly suited to discussing Wanderlust, a 'comedy' staring Paul Rudd and Jennifer Aniston. The pair play George and Linda, a couple who, after losing their house in New York, decide to try an alternative way of life in a rural commune to find themselves and discover the important things in life. I was aware of the number of times I laughed: zero. Not even a smile. With annoying characters, painful jokes and a rather prejudiced look at the world of hippies, Wanderlust is intrinsically dull and has the comedic wit of a chewing gum packet. However, it's not all bad: I had my review of this film read out on BBC Five Live. Every cloud...

3. 
   Ted

Obviously I'm out-of-touch with the youth of today. Many found Ted, Seth McFarlane's comedy about a pot smoking teddy bear to be the funniest film of the year. I didn't. The number of times I smiled could be counted on Homer Simpson's left hand and the number of times I laughed on a snake's. To get away with jokes about 9/11, the humour should have been astronomically funny. It wasn't. The characters should have been perceptive and funny manifestations of the concerns of moving from childhood to adulthood. They weren't. The CGI bear was well done but it should have been less crude and, fundamentally, more comedic. It wasn't. All in all, I'd rather eat a bowl of desiccated toe nails than sit through Ted again. Honestly.

2. 
   Rock of Ages

Just missing out on the top (or should that be bottom?) spot, is a musical which boasts the star names of Tom Cruise, Catherine Zeta Jones and Russell Brand. With some big 1980s rock anthems such as 'Any Way You Want It' and 'Don't Stop Believin'', Rock of Ages simply exists as a royalties generator. The characters were totally unbelievable, the dialogue and plot dire and the songs...well, X Factor's Rylan could have put more soul into them. Cruise's rather bemusing performance as the out-of-control rocker Stacee Jaxx pales into insignificance when Brand pipes up with his awful (and rather bemusing) Cockney accent. Cringe-worthy, this film is most definitely. Entertaining, it most definitely isn't. 

1. 
   Piranha 3DD

For all our sakes, I'll keep this brief. Some have called Hugo and Life of Pi examples of how 3D can be used to great effect. Piranha 3DD is the example of how it shouldn't. More misogynistic than gangsta rap, more hideous than Donald Trump's hair and supremely boring, the film is offensively made and appeals to the lowest common denominator on every occasion. Slow-motion shots of women running around with nothing on and piranha fish coming out of a woman and biting a man's penis off (yes, you read that correctly) were, quite possibly, the best bits of a film which is so unintelligent that it makes The Only Way is Essex look like an orange version of University Challenge. All prints of this film should be shut away in a lead-lined box and thrown to the bottom of the Pacific. That's all I'm saying on the matter.

On that note, Happy New Year to all my readers! Your support is really appreciated.