Drive

****

Director Nicolas Winding Refn has created an instant cult classic. This film is unquestionably cool. For example, avoiding all driving clichés, the soundtrack features not a single guitar, instead opting for an electronica bubblegum audio backdrop which beautifully matches that oh-so-modern of cities in which it is set: Los Angeles.

A mysterious stranger in the shape of the unnamed Driver (Ryan Gosling) offers his customers no guns, no muscle, just a means to get away. And all done with a four-stroke of genius. It’s basically cowboy mythology updated to a very dangerous present. He becomes inextricably involved with a young mum (Carey Mulligan). Her ex-con husband’s past is catching up with him and putting them and their son in danger, so the Driver offers his services to help them.

Gosling’s performance is slightly weird - it’s not exactly the manliest. But as soon as he gets in the driving seat he’s as Alpha as they come. Killer casting prevails. Bryan Cranston (of Breaking Bad fame) proves further acting mettle. Christina Hendricks (of Mad Men) makes her mark in a smaller role. Ron Perlman leaves his usual big-softyness for dust, playing a genuinely scary character. And going well against type, Albert Brooks plays someone who simply enjoys killing.

It’s a beautiful-looking film. It’s vibrantly colourful. It’s also remarkably violent. But this movie called Drive - about a stunt driver who also drives getaway cars - is slightly lacking in one aspect: the eponymous driving. The action mostly surrounds the noir/thriller aspect and not the stuff on four wheels. Although a little short-changed on this front, the initial car chase is perfection. Shot entirely from inside the getaway vehicle its tension and exhilaration easily rivals that Holiest of Grails of car chases, from Bullitt.

Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy

***

Forget everything you've learnt. Being a spy is not sexy. Exhibit A Yer Honour, Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy. The ironically-monikered George Smiley (Gary Oldman) is stuffy and middle-aged. (NB: this is in the days when being in your fifties looked like being in your seventies.) At one point he unceremoniously removes his Walther PPK - that’s James Bond’s gun - not from a sleek shoulder holster but from a shabby plastic wallet just as he might his sandwiches. This, incidentally, is a rare occasion when we actually see some hardware.

It’s the early seventies. The Cold War is positively glacial and Smiley is tracking down a double agent in British intelligence. The action flows at glacial speed too. There is little made of actual operations. They are momentary but incendiary. The onus is on finding the Soviet mole in the “Circus” (The Secret Intelligence Service).

The performances and attention to period detail is the main charm. The production design is stunning, and all things sartorial – even the most staid – offer some kind of allure. Weirdly, the film manages to be attractive while simultaneously showing up the crappiness of seventies Britain and its Empire in serious decay. Smiley is a laconic sort and, as a result, Oldman delivers a potent, internalised performance. He is backed by a strong British cast – from relative newcomers (Tom Hardy, Benedict Cumberpatch) to stalwarts (Mark Strong, Ciarin Hinds, Tobey Jones) to an Oscar-winner (Colin Firth) to a living legend (John Hurt). Unsurprisingly, the acting’s not bad.

Smiley almost disappears within the large cast and fragmented story. Other than being King of the poker face we are given little indication of his strengths. It is not a character-driven story of Smiley but it’s neither a balls-to-the-wall spy flick. Instead, it occupies a vapid no-man’s land between the two. It is easy to be dazzled by such slick production value when the actual story is lifeless as this.

Winter’s Bone

**

Winter’s Bone has a lot to offer in terms of authenticity. Director Debra Granik’s film set in a methamphetamine-afflicted community in the Ozark Mountains drips with realism. It’s a shame it’s so dull. When the majority of a film’s cast is made up of dangerous rednecks high on crystal meth, it really should be more interesting than this.

17 year-old Ree Dolly (Jennifer Lawrence) has a messed-up mum and an absent father. This means she has to raise her two young siblings. Daddy is a meth chemist awaiting trial. He has put the house up as part of his bond and gone AWOL. If he doesn’t turn up to court they lose the house. To save the family home Ree searches for her father, meeting a number of people who are disturbing or disturbed.

Granik cites Ken Loach and Mike Leigh as influences. Visually she has more to offer than both of those directors. Then again that may be down to the tiniest hint of Americana being so much more cinematic than a lot of say, London. The attention to detail – in all things hillbilly – is impressive; the younger kids playing has a touch of Gummo about it, guns are casually loaded and left lying around like any household item, and I can’t say I’ve ever seen a squirrel being skinned for dinner before. However, none of it says a huge deal other than, it sucks being this poor. And there is a lot of repetition – in terms of imagery and even plot.

Newcomer Jennifer Lawrence is good but, as with the film in general, overrated. The superb John Hawkes - who I’ll always think of as the awkward Richard in indie favourite, Me and You and Everyone We Know – here plays a twitching ball of drug psychosis, like Dennis Hopper on a bad day. Sadly the script he was given is weak. The dialogue is minimal and what there is of it carries little weight. Granik does have a good eye but if the characters are going to talk this little then the images need to say a lot more.

The Inbetweeners Movie

**** 

When many sitcoms pack their bags in search of sunshine it not only feels unlikely but often removes everything that worked. The Inbetweeners Movie takes the boys away to sunny Malia in Greece but it all feels right. That’s exactly what four friends such as these might do; unlike a bunch of colleagues of wildy differing age and class (e.g. the staff of Grace Brothers heading off to Costa Plonka). The Inbetweeners TV series had thrown just about every kind of humiliation possible at Will, Simon, Jay and Neil. The movie had to turn things up to eleven. And where better place than a vile resort flowing with booze and bodily fluids, a place where Brits, like annoying wasps, are everywhere.

Having finished school, our four heroes travel away on a journey of discovery. Well… make that, in Jay’s words, “two weeks of sun, sea, booze, minge, fanny and sex”. Death in Venice this is not. As things go from bad to worse to great, we witness the behaviour of an uncivilised and Neanderthal species: Brits abroad. Not only are the supporting cast embarrassing, silly and unsophisticated, so are the protagonists. And amazingly, we still root for them. Perhaps it speaks to everyone’s inner idiot. Actually, the only ones resembling anything near sensible are the four girls they meet, which rubbishes any possible notions of sexism.

Cinematically, it doesn’t have that much to offer. It does have some semblance of story without just being a series of vignettes. Aside from a few helicopter shots, it doesn’t look a lot different from the TV show. But really, who cares? Spinal Tap is not exactly renowned for its camera work, nor is The Life of Brian. Am not saying it’s in those kinds of leagues, but my point being: comedies simply need jokes. And this is hilarious.

For Inbetweeners virgins, I wouldn’t exactly say avoid it but it’s probably advisable to know what you are letting yourself in for. (Check out the trailer on Youtube.) But if you like the show you have to go. Seeing it with a laughing mass of devotees is riotously good fun. Us fans helped smash the opening weekend record of a UK comedy (previously held by Bridget Jones: The Edge of Reason). And unlike that movie, this one deserves every bit of its success.

 

Rise of the Planet of the Apes

*** 

How exactly a planet can rise I’m not sure. If you can get past the nonsensical title (that’s noticeably a bit of a mouthful) it’s easy to enjoy the film. Actually, there is something else to get past. The visual effects still have a way to come to make this kind of thing truly believable but you just have to roll with it. There is no way, though, that men in costumes could have done even half of the spectacular ape gymnastics. Anyway, to stop being a grumpy old spoilsport for just a minute, it’s good solid summer entertainment. It does what it says on the tin and more. It is strongly plot-led, and not just a series of action set-pieces with stuff written to simply link them together. It is also devotes much to character but with the main focus, uniquely, being on a primate.

Cesar the chimpanzee is orphaned in a research facility. He is of extraordinary heightened intelligence as his mother was dosed with an experimental Alzheimer’s drug. Dr James Franco takes him home and raises him with a little help from his father (the ever-reliable John Lithgow) who he is using as a guinea pig for the drug. What could possibly go wrong? In fact, I thought it had perfect sitcom potential…

Although there is much explaining to do, things don’t get bogged down in exposition. As a result, the action moves along swiftly. There’s some great inventiveness to the action which makes it a lot of fun. It isn’t just about blowing big things up (and it doesn’t feel like it was made by committee). The scenes in an ape “sanctuary”, which is anything but, are tense and engaging even though the things are just grunting at each other - albeit in a nuanced way by the likes of Andy “Gollum” Serkis.

Director Rupert Wyatt has made quite a leap from the humble but brilliant beginnings of 2008’s The Escapist. According to his agent, it is the largest increase in budget (proportionally) between films made by any director. With the increase being $90million I don’t doubt it. No pressure then for this his second feature. But Wyatt really brings it and has deservedly created one of the possible biggest hits of this summer.

NEDS

**** 

The title is an acronym for ‘Non-Educated Delinquents’. (But you wouldn’t dare call them that to their faces.) NEDS paints a terrifying picture of Glasgow in the seventies.

John McGill (Connor McCarron / Gregg Forrest) has been a promising student from a young age, but the society in which he lives is seemingly wrecking any hopes of a bright future. His big brother Benny (Joe Szula) has a reputation for violence and his dad (Peter Mullan) is a good example of how not to be a father or husband. His classes are so dysfunctional school actually aids his progress down the wrong path. It’s not long before John gets in with the wrong crowd.

Peter Mullan is a hell of a talent. Not only is he a powerful presence on screen but he’s also a very good director. Did I mention he can write, too? The script is outstanding. Instead of aiming for social realism he has achieved something more cinematic while still maintaining authenticity. It is tragic, funny, at times surreal, but most of all, it’s downright scary. It’s not just the knife-wielding thugs that are scary either. The teachers appear to have received their training in hell. It’s not the casual (and constant) corporal punishment that’s so unpleasant. Some of the mental cruelty is unfathomable.

Pretty much all of the younger cast members are novices but the director elicits great performances from all of them. It doesn’t hurt that they’re all local boys and girls, scouted by Mullan. I don’t doubt they all bring a bit of their own life experience to the roles.

If you watch the DVD, be sure to check out Peter Mullan’s London Film Festival master class - a cut above your usual extras. Mullan is wonderfully unpretentious. He’s funny, self-deprecating and tough - like the characters in his film, you’d know better than to mess with him. 

The Tree of Life

*****

Factoid of the day: Terence Malick wrote an early draft of Dirty Harry. Who’d have thunk that? I can’t even picture him and Clint in the same room (although the scenario has endless comic potential.) There’s no one quite like Terence Malick and apparently no one knows anything about the man. Rumour has it he was raised by ghosts in the offices of Cahiers du Cinema. Some say he was born in a manger.

The Tree of Life sees Mr and Mrs O’Brien (Brad Pitt and Jessica Chastain) raising their three sons in a suburban Texas home. There are flash forwards to older versions of the couple and Jack (Sean Penn) in later life, all dealing with an untimely death. In a nutshell: along the way we witness life, the universe and everything.

Yes, The Tree of Life comes from waaaay left-field. Yes, it’s genuine arthouse cinema. And yes, it’s quite long. But wait… come back. It’s amazing. It’s a heart-achingly beautiful piece of work. Even if you don’t get it it’s still great. In the same way I still don’t know what that damn obelisk was doing in 2001: A Space Odyssey I can happily love this film and be confused at the same time. You’ve got to keep an open mind here. Conversely, I expected to loathe it. Philistine that I am. But it knocked me sideways. In a good way. Every single moment is loaded with weight and meaning. The whole thing is also like some kind of experiment in audience reaction. (We witnessed quite a few walkouts.) Just expect the unexpected.

It’s an impressive roll call of talent. Pitt delivers an understated, pressure cooker performance as the not-wholly-likeable father. Chastain, on the other hand, can only be described as ethereal in her performance as a loving mother. The kids are all ridiculously good. Cinematographer Emmanuel Lubezki shoots like it’s the film he wishes to be remembered for (and it just might be). Living legend Douglas Trumbull wows us with some impressive effects, as does Prime Focus with the “controversial” dinosaur scenes. (Don’t listen to what you hear – said scenes are fantastic and puts the film into a whole new league.) However, the star of the show is Malick, who – more than ever – has got his serious groove on.

You must see it on a big screen. Having missed both The Thin Red Line and The New World at the cinema, as a result I found both something of a disappointment. (Please don’t hold it against me. I told you I was a Philistine.) But don’t make the same mistake and wait till its DVD release.