Pusher (1996)

Frank (Kim Bodnia), a low-level drug dealer in Copenhagen, grows more and more desperate as his debt to drug dealer Milo (Zlatko Burić) increases.

Nicolas Winding Refn (Drive) turned down a place at film school in order to make this, his first movie. It was followed by two sequels that featured other characters in the same world. The stated aim of the movie was to portray drug dealing in a realistic way without glamorising it. There isn’t excessive violence or melodrama as in Scarface or Goodfellas; in fact, it’s an incredibly simple story, tightly focusing on the main character (who is in almost every scene) as the situation spirals out of his control. Pusher feels like it is more truthful than the brash American gangster films, but this also comes at a price. Audiences who are expecting lots of violent killings and sex will be disappointed, but if you go in expecting a tense indie film with a simple story you will enjoy it.

It’s also told incredibly simply, with a hand-held camera emulating documentary style. There’s minimal lighting beyond what’s present in the scene, often leaving characters backlit in silhouette or far too dark to make out. It was also shot in sequence (most films, for practical reasons, are shot out of sequence, either aroud an actor’s scehdule, a certain location, or the weather). Interestingly, this didn’t come from a stylistic choice but a practical one: the budget was so low that they couldn’t afford better lights and time to set them up, and Refn has since admitted he didn’t really understand shooting out of sequence. From another film-maker all this could have resulted in a film completely naive to the nuances of its bigger-budget counterparts, but because the writing and acting are so strong it works. The Copenhagen setting also does much to distance Pusher from the established crime genre, and Refn’s choices make the film, above all, incredibly plausible.

Kim Bodnia has an incredible screen presence with few lines. He’s both tough and incredibly vulnerable, not only to his own violent instincts but to his addictions to money and drugs. Mads Mikkelsen plays Tonny, Frank’s friend, but is better known as the villain Le Chiffre in the recent Casino Royale. The second film in the trilogy follows him. Zlatko Burić, as Milo, switches from friendly to sinister incredibly well (much later and with a heavier and lower voice he would portray Yuri Karpov, the Russian billionaire in one of the greatest disaster films ever made, 2012). The third film in the trilogy follows him. Slavko Labović, who plays Radovan, Milo’s hencman and aspiring restuaranteur, is simjultaneously hilarious and threatening. Laura Drasbæk, playing Vic, a prostitute love interest for Frank, elevates a typical victim role (it’s even in the character name) with a bit of comedy, but it is very much a male-dominated role and her needs and wants are increasingly sidelined through the movie. This supporting cast are a vital part of the movie selling its world as real, and it helps that they are, even now, little known outside of Scandanavian cinema.

The idea behind the trilogy (as it later became, the second and third movies arriving in 2004 and 2005 respectively) is that each entry follows a different character from the same universe, and while these characters overlap it doesn’t form a larger story. I tend to look down on sequels as more often than not they’re done for the money rather than from an organic storytelling lpace, but given that the films tell different stories and the same people were involved I think this is a great idea. So often films spend a lot of time building a specific world with interesting characters and only use it to tell one limited story. This is why good TV shows have an advantage over films, they can build characters and stories over hours and seasons. Although I haven’t seen the other two yet, it’s nice to see a set of films that rises to that challenge.

An understated yet captivating debut. I can’t wait to watch the two sequels.

Verdict: Strongly recommend.

Citizen Kane (1941)

A newspaper magnate dies alone and the press search to find the meaning of his final words: “Rosebud”.

Is there anything new to say about what has been called one of the greatest movies of all time by every serious film critic ever? No. I’ll just reheat what they’ve said and will try to explain how it’s still relevant today in the age of Rupert Murdoch as it was in the age of William Randolph Hearst, whose life Citizen Kane is based on (Hearst castle is worth a visit, it’s actually pretty close to Kane’s Xanadu). Simply that media barons have long been using sensationalism to sell their politics to their reader. But the film presents a far more human side of this imposing figure than you would expect, and, after watching his entire life unfold, it’s pity you feel rather than hatred for such a lonely person.

The fact that Orson Welles co-wrote, directed and starred in this movie at 25 years old is incredible. Along with cinematographer Gregg Toland (whose credit is shared with Welles’ directing card at the end of the film), he consistently achieves incredibly dense and informative framing, often showing the power relationships between the characters changing with elaborate camera movements. Toland and Welles pioneered the deep focus techniques in this film, where the extreme foreground and extreme background are both clear and in focus. A great example would be the shot where Kane’s mother is signing him away, and the child can be seen playing with his sled in the background. Another example would be when his second wife attempts suicide, and we see the bottle in front of the frame, her still form in the middle, and the door being beaten down in the background. A conventional film would have used at least three separate shots to tell the same story. It’s still powerful and impressive today.

The writing is also incredible, taking and deconstructing an entire man’s life, never spending too long on the framing device. A 10-minute newsreel at the start of the film gives us all the information on Kane’s life from an outside perspective; that we know the rough outline of his life already, as if he truly were a real public figure, allows the movie to concentrate the audience’s attention on the central mystery, that of the meaning behind his dying words, and to seeing his life from the perspectives of the characters that knew him (the reporter’s face is always in shadow so we are never distracted by his character). Long preceding the recent Hollywood trend for biopics, that, due to lack of ambition or legal reasons, fail to cover the most interesting periods in their subjects’ lives, Citizen Kane benefits from the conveniences of fiction (condensing time) while still feeling like an authentic and comprehensive exploration of a man’s life.

The performances, from a cast of unknowns, are likewise excellent, Orson Welles in particular capturing both youthful enthusiasm and the physical and psychological stiffness of old age. The other actors face similar difficulties, playing both the young idealistic and older weary versions of their characters, assisted only by some minimal ageing make-up. Dorothy Comingore, who plays Susan Alexander, has the toughest time, starting as Kane’s bubbly mistress, being forced into an opera career and effective prisoner at Xanadu and finally ending up a drunk husk. There is such richness in this movie that it demands repeat viewings.

Citizen Kane is worth seeing for its influence alone. It has inspired so many parodies and references, not least the clapping .gif, that you’re missing out. Whole episodes of The Simpsons have been devoted to parodying this movie. There’s a reason for that. It’s actually amazingly good.

Verdict: Quintessential.

Grapes of Wrath (1940)

The Joad family are forced of their farm in Oklahoma during the Great Depression, and, like many others, set out to California looking for work.

I read and greatly enjoyed John Steinbeck’s novel on which this was based, and, seeing as the film adaptation was and still is critically acclaimed and launched the career of Henry Fonda, I thought I’d check it out. Unfortunately, the film strips most of what makes the book a compelling read. The triumph of the human spirit, which is what Steinbeck was showing, can only be demonstrated when that human spirit has been subjected to some horrible events. The film, very much a product of the restrictive Hays code rather than of the book, strips out the most testing moments of the book. What you’re left with is a triumphalist message of “USA is and always will be great” that completely undermines the subtlety of the book. People have read everything into the book, from racism to Communism, but Steinbeck himself wanted to be distanced from the migrant cause. He wasn’t arguing for the abolition of corporations or anything as extreme as that (even though banks and law enforcement are the villains in the story), more for a system of compassionate capitalism where companies take care of people instead of exploiting them. The film makes a brief, non-controversial (by 1940) argument in favour of organised and unionised labour and then just prematurely ends. While they couldn’t have done much more at the time, and this is probably the best version we could have hoped for given those restrictions, it makes for a poor adaptation and a poor film.

Another change for the worst is the casting. While the rural dialect in the book was exaggerated (some might say patronising, given Steinbeck was a native Californian), it at least felt authentic. Here the characters feel like Hollywood actors playing up mid-western stereotypes, and it’s disappointing. Henry Fonda is an exception; while his part is small, his intense looks make you believe he killed a man, and you can understand how he went on to become a star. The other exception is Jane Darwell, playing Ma Joad, who is completely believable partly because she is a realistic size for a mid-western matriarch (she’s a good actress as well, and won the Oscar® for the role). Everyone else has so few lines that they resort to caricature, particularly Grandpa (Charley Grapewin), who was awful.

As well as in the acting, I consistently felt the artifice of the film imposing over the naturalist style of the characters, story and book. The backdrops make it painfully obvious that a lot of the outdoor scenes were filmed in a studio, and while it wouldn’t matter in another story, these are supposed to be close to real people in real situations. This artifice slowly becomes apparent in other areas as well (costuming, for example), and again, completely undermines the intended effects of the book.

I suppose the problem is that the book is almost completely allegorical, the Joads themselves receiving little characterisation, and so there’s no real way to adapt it within a Hollywood narrative film. So don’t. There are enough good stories out there that are suited to films that this isn’t necessary. I’d even prefer a remake to spoiling a good book. If it were remade today the more extreme elements of the book could be kept in, but it still might not be long enough to do it justice. The perfect medium would actually be an HBO or similar miniseries. It could delve into enough detail to make the story engaging, and maybe even find a creative and original way to tackle the chapters that don’t follow the Joads and serve as historical and cultural context.

An undeserved classic, lauded by those who haven’t read the book (is it really your 23rd best film, AFI? Really?). Read the book.

Verdict: Ambivalent.

84th Academy Awards® Nominees Reactions

These are my quick reactions, in the order of the original list (find it here). I’ve missed out the awards that no-one cares about. Warning, this is a long post of interest to maybe no-one, so if you’re reading it on the main page I’ve hidden it under a fold.

The Battle of Algiers (1966)

During the Algerian War of Independence, various figures, including a leader of a guerrilla movement, the commander of the French paratroopers, and many in between, fight and go to any lengths for what they believe in.

This film is also about terrorism, and how an occupational war can be successful militarily but without winning the hearts and minds of the people, leading to further problems, something that is sadly still relevant today. It also differs from Four Lions in that we follow the police at the same time as the terrorists, both operating in a very grey area morally (the terrorists killing civilians, and the police torturing prisoners and also killing civilians). While we are given few characters to follow throughout, too few to really relate to, it’s undeniably captivating and ambiguous. Of course we want law and order to prevail. Of course we want self-determination for an occupied quality. Of course we don’t want people to be tortured. Of course we don’t want civilians killed in suicide bombings. So who can we root for? This spiral downwards into greater violence is all the more disturbing for its seeming inevitability and reluctance to apportion blame to either side. Maybe it’s human nature that’s to blame. Those that don’t learn from history are doomed to repeat it.

The documentary-style crisp black and white photography and old buildings (the Casbah looks almost unchanged since the 17th Century, an interesting contrast with the modern look of the rest of the city, reinforcing the culture clash between the native Muslims and French occupiers) add to the authenticity, as does the cast of non-professional actors, playing characters whose lives sometimes interweave but more often affect each other sight unseen. It’s two hours long but doesn’t feel like it, managing to cover the six years of the conflict in a way that feels comprehensive of the spirit, if not the literal truth, of the events in that period, and full of attention to detail. There are some incredibly tense sequences, including the quasi-climax to the film, that are never played for emotion or as political arguments. There are very few manipulative shots and very little manipulative music. The only music I can remember is drumming over the scene where several women prepare themselves for leaving bombs around the city. While this does build tension, the images presented would still be tense without it.

This film has a problem with its neutrality, being inspired by a propagandist book by an FLN (National Liberation Front) leader Saadi Yacef, and supported by the Algerian government (composed of many ex-FLN). It was banned in France for five years. Indeed, however authentic it feels it should not be taken as any kind of accurate historical account (the aim of much of propaganda is to rewrite history, for example, Battleship Potemkin is more well known than the actual mutiny). Given all this, what is remarkable is the Gillo Pontecorvo’s (the director) ability to distance himself from recent events (it must have helped that he was Italian). There is some triumphalism at Algeria gaining independence, but this is not shown as a direct result of the actions of the freedom fighters/terrorists. The chief goal of the film is not to glorify these people, but to them understandable, as it makes the response of the police and military understandable, given the circumstances.

As a result, this film has been shown many times, in Argentina in the 1960s, in Israel in 1988, and at the Pentagon in 2003, either to make a political point or to show soldiers how to deal with guerrilla warfare, where the civilians become the enemy. Unfortunately while this film shows what not to do, there’s no way to recommend an alternative better approach; history didn’t work out that way. What we are left with is a film that seems prescient but really shows how quickly lessons from history are forgotten.

Finally, although this might not persuade you to watch it, it’s a fascinating film for anyone studying warfare. It doesn’t give much technical insight, but it is very interesting viewing guerilla warfare from a psychological and emotional angle.

Verdict: Quintessential.

Four Lions (2010)

Sheffield, UK. An incompetent terrorist cell plan a suicide bombing.

I’ve seen people on IMDb call this movie ‘sick’. At the risk of generalising, they’re mostly American. Terrorism in the UK, even the 7/7 bombings, has been on a smaller scale and always ‘home grown’. This has frequently gone awry, even comically so  (money: John Smeaton, baggage handler, yelled “‘fuckin’ mon, then’ and aimed a kick in the testicles at Kafeel Ahmed”, one of the terrorists who was also the only victim). Chris Morris, the co-writer and director, previously behind the satirical TV shows The Day Today and Brass Eye, isn’t afraid to capitalise on this and turn it into incredibly dark comedy. And I agree. No topic should be off-limits for comedy. If it finds an audience, as Four Lions has both here and in the USA, then it’s not beyond the arbitrary boundaries of “taste” that some morally superior morons (Mary Whitehouse, roll over in your grave now) would seek to set for us. I think what I’m saying is, if we live in a country where this movie cannot be made, the terrorists have won.

Of course, this can build up high expectations for the movie itself, as does the DVD case, blank of all information except the title and director and a bar code on the back. But the film is actually very funny, deriving most of its humour from the gross inconsistencies between the groups’ professed hatred of western values and culture and their indulgence in the very same, and full of great quotes that can raise a smile even (especially) out of context of the film. While we’re laughing at terrorist’s cluelessness, we’re also laughing at Britain’s multicultural society where one of the most militant terrorists can be a white convert to Islam and they all talk in Northern accents and use slang like “bro”. The film doesn’t make a statement on whether this ability to pick and choose “British values” is a good or bad thing beyond just that it’s funny, as any cultural clash can be. I’d say the fact that there isn’t a dominant ideology imposed on everyone who lives here is good; it exposes us to different cultures, opinions, and values and we end up with hopefully a better, more tolerant society (unlike maybe the USA).

The film’s structure is very loose, but it centres around the relationship between the dim but sweet Waj (Kayvan Novak) and his friend Omar (Riz Ahmed), who, while he’s definitely the smartest of the group is still not smart enough to see his company for the imbeciles they are. They go to a training camp in Pakistan, return, and together with Barry (Nigel Lindsay), the convert and most angry, the even dimmer Faisal (Adeel Akhtar), the reluctant Hassan (Arsher Ali), muddle through many slapstick scenes, arguments, and accidents towards their suicide bombing. It’s all shot in a documentary style which I sometimes find annoying but works perfectly here. It’s easy to imagine a few shots from this film slowed down with a Channel 4 announcer saying “Dispatches: Inside A Terrorist Cell” over the top (the ending credits plays around with this).

The dialogue is written and delivered in a naturalist way that sounds like it could have been entirely improvised but probably wasn’t, which to me is one of the hallmarks of good writing and acting. Every characters’ actions and lines all come out of who they are and the situation they’re in, so while the story doesn’t come together until about 40 minutes into the movie, no time feels wasted. There’s also a small but hilarious role (not a cameo, given that when this was made and released Sherlock hadn’t hit yet) for Benedict Cumberbatch, showing what a versatile actor he is. Finally, Warp Films, who produced this film, are becoming one of the most interesting companies in the business in the UK, responsible for Shane Meadows’ This is England, its subsequent TV follow ups ’86 and ’88, Submarine, another film from 2010 that I really enjoyed, and other projects. I really hope they can keep it up at a time when Arts Council funding is being cut and other companies that worked in independent film, such as Optimum, have been downscaling.

A surprisingly sympathetic and funny look at terrorism, not done just for the sake of taboo busting, and the kind of movie that would never be made in the US.

Verdict: Strongly recommend.

Bill & Ted’s Bogus Journey (1991)

Bill & Ted (Keanu Reeves and Alex Winter) are working on their mediocre band after their time-travelling adventure last time when two robot versions of themselves come back from the future to kill them.

This is a sequel to Bill & Ted’s Excellent Adventure. I found the original to be funny and actually treated history in a fairly intelligent way. This film attempts to do the same for the afterlife, adding in plenty of parodies (Bergman’s The Seventh Seal) and goofy moments. A lot is squeezed from the ridiculous but simple premise (particularly inspired is the scene where the ghosts of Bill & Ted possess the policemen). The charisma of the central duo carry the film rather than the wacky special effects that sometimes don’t hold up. The doubling of the main actors (they also play Bill & Ted’s doppelgänger robots) is actually fairly impressively done in that I never considered the technical difficulties involved when filming.

I know some find this duo annoying and would easily sympathise with the villain who hates living in a Bill & Ted inspired future so much that he is willing to wipe out his own existence to prevent it from happening (presumably this is what would happen, like Back to the Future the time-travel mechanics are never clear). The mixture of time travel, robots, aliens, and the afterlife requires a lot of suspension of disbelief, far more than the original did, and while there are enough jokes to keep the film going there’s a sag when they get to heaven (the original had a more urgent ticking clock and made the stakes clearer even if they weren’t as grand as they are in this one).

Like Monday’s movie, this is a film out of its proper era (1980s), but it’s close enough to not be too uncomfortable. The self-consciousness definitely wears a little more thin this time. I can’t imagine what a modern trilogy-capper would be like. If it is made it should pick up 20 years after this one left off and be a really serious drama about the pair going through mid-life crises because they got all the success they wanted and created a Utopia with world peace but can’t handle living in a world where there’s no authority to rebel against. Then they steal the time machine and try to recreate their younger lives, but each time they go back they make it worse until it’s like the alternative 1985 in Back to the Future Part 2 where Biff is rich and in charge of the whole town or the alternative 1980s in Watchmen where Nixon is still President and the US won the Vietnam War. They look into the world they have re-created, full of human misery, suffering, and death. Ted sheds a single tear. All Bill can say is “Dude…” They silently get into the phone box again, and fly into the sun.

Alex Winter would soon become a legit director and Keanu Reeves would soon become a semi-legit action star. The second time around, Bill & Ted’s schtick seems less fresh. I still found it fun, but your mileage may vary.

Verdict: Ambivalent.

Year of the Gun (1991)

Monday-Wednesday-Friday reviews this week, and posts might be late up.

1978. An American journalist (Andrew McCarthy) living in Rome becomes entangled with the Communist terrorist Red Brigades organisation. He also becomes entangled (ho ho) with a sexy photojournalist (Sharon Stone) who just gets him into more trouble.

John Frankenheimer, director of one of my favourite political thrillers of all time, The Manchurian Candidate, returns with this story that attempts to copy the success of Day of the Jackel (one of the characters even admits as such) by fictionalising the story behind a real-life kidnap and murder. He also directed Ronin, which was decent but not that good, The Island of Dr. Moreau, which I’ve heard was bad, and Reindeer Games, which I want to see. Year of the Gun is set in what was a turbulent time in Italy, later dubbed the ‘Years of Lead’, and you’d think this would make for a very exciting film. However, Year of the Gun not only borrows Day of the Jackel‘s story and title devices (“time period of the thing”) but its incredibly laboriously slow pacing and story-telling. An entire subplot (whether the main character is part of the Red Brigades) amounts to nothing more than a way to make Sharon Stone’s character appear smart before the real story begins.

It’s a shame, because the real story is actually fairly entertaining and competently done, but we don’t get to it until about 50 minutes in. The journalist has written a semi-fictional book that is stolen by the Red Brigades who coincidentally had the idea of kidnapping Aldo Moro that forms the plot in his book. This idea is almost completely wasted. When the melodrama gives way to action, it’s equally disappointing. The whole film has a distinct 1970s aesthetic, from the long takes and zooms down to the typewriters and so on, which is, I suppose, accurate for the time period but also uncomfortably clashes with what a 1990s audience wants to see (presumably, action and romance). The benefit of making a movie decades after when it’s set is that you get to present that time period in a way that a modern audience can relate to. For example, would The Godfather be as powerful if it was made in the style of a 1940s gangster film instead of in the style of a 1970s epic? Would Bonnie & Clyde be the same if it was made as a 1940s noir instead of a taboo-breaking film that ushered in New Hollywood? (In fact it would be Gun Crazy, its good but not great precursor.) Same with Chinatown. Even Public Enemies, Michael Mann’s recent movie about Dillinger, was shot in his signature digital style, justifying its existence if not guaranteeing its quality. In this way Year of the Gun is a missed opportunity to present a period of time in a new way, and lift the veil of history.

The cast do some good work with their limited roles. Andrew McCarthy has this weird facial twitch when he gets mad that is somehow compelling. Sharon Stone is annoying, but she tries her best. I don’t think her role was thought through enough though. She’s the love interest but actually causes the main character all of the trouble in the movie. For that she deserved to die. It would have upped the stakes and given the movie a more serious tone. John Frankenheimer also makes some incredibly strange directorial choices near the end of the film, including one supposedly dramatic but in effect laughable use of slow motion. The editing is also bad, although it might be because I watched a version pan-and-scanned to 4:3 (I do feel guilty about it and will apologise to Martin Scorsese if I ever meet him). The film also attempts to say something meaningful and profound about the nature of journalism; either how it can change the entire perception of a series of events or how it doesn’t have any effect whatsoever. It’s never clearly decided. What was clear was the heavy-handedness involved in transposing rhetoric straight into the characters’ mouths. I could have also done without the 1980s synth music.

I’m actually interested in Italian politics, having studied Mussolini last year for As History. Unfortunately, like Day of the Jackel (which I didn’t really like), this film doesn’t give you much of an insight into the country or the political period. A far more captivating watch is Il Divo, an Italian film about the Prime Minister of this period, Guilio Andreotti (you’ll be equally as lost without some prior knowledge on the subject but it gives you a grander impression and spans more time). Also worth a watch is Gommorrah, which isn’t about politics but is about the Mafia. Another great recent political thriller is The Ides of March, which is being shadowed both by George Clooney’s other hit The Descendents and Ryan Gosling’s other hit Drive. Although it doesn’t say anything new about politics, it’s definitely worth your time. All these films are better than this.

This is simply a case of a movie outside its time. If it had been made in the 1970s, it might be a classic.

Verdict: Ambivalent.

Black Sheep (2007)

Sorry for lack of posts this week. I’ve been busy recently with University interviews (exciting!) and film-making (exciting!) and revising for exams (…). Next two weeks I’ll be posting on a Monday-Wednesday-Friday schedule to help with this.

New Zealand. Henry (Nathan Meister), phobic of sheep, returns to his farm home to sign away his half to his brother (Peter Feeney), while a pair of eco-terrorists (Oliver Driver and Danielle Mason) cause the release of a genetically modified sheep, turning the whole herd into blood-thirsty zombies.

This is one of those perfect ideas that needs very little description. New Zealand has an association with splatter horror (mainly thanks to Peter Jackson). It also has an association with sheep, lots of them, outnumbering the human population around 10-1. Combining the two is one of those ideas so simple it’s strange nobody’s thought of it before. Sadly, the film doesn’t quite live up to the promise of this premise. It’s hard to take it seriously, so it’s lucky that we’re never quite asked to. Instead there’s a sometimes uneasy, but other times suspenseful and hilarious horror-comedy tone. A few scenes in particular were great, especially when a corporate event is interrupted by killer sheep. I rarely say this, but it could have used some slow-motion.

I felt the sibling rivalry plot was fairly predictable, although there were a few great sheep-shagging jokes that came out of it. Experience, the female environmental activist, is irritating but funny as a self-parody. However this makes it difficult to take her seriously as the romantic interest for the lead. The scientists and activists are perfectly broad, both evil and misguided in their own ways, neither really caring about the animals as much as they care about themselves. The film never really takes a firm position on genetic engineering; it’s used as a boogeyman but if the activists hadn’t disrupted the scientists’ waste disposal the outbreak never would have happened. It’s more the brother who’s blamed for allowing scientific curiosity to progress unchecked rather than the scientists themselves. Some more obvious commentary to this effect, maybe developing the urban/countryside tensions some more (this is revealed to be the first time Henry has left the city since he was a kid).

Generally I dislike complaints about regional accents (boo hoo you poor Americans had to turn on subtitles for Attack the Block, grow up), but I do have difficulty with taking the New Zealand/Australian accent seriously. It might have something to do with the fact that most people from those countries who come to international prominence are comedians like Crocodile Dundee or is the racist wife-berater and alleged wife-beater [edited to avoid lawsuits] Mel Gibson. There are also a few plot holes (the taxi driver is a running joke that just disappears) and logistical problems (some people bit by the sheep turn into mega-monster-sheep-human-hybrids, others don’t). In a stronger movie that had greater tension and drive I wouldn’t have noticed these. The problem is, ultimately, that sheep are goofy and not actually that scary (see also Night of the Lepus, about killer rabbits, that was widely derided on its release in 1972). In even making them the slightest bit threatening (and at a few points, such as when they come across the first victim of the sheep) this film is a massive achievement.

The special effects need a special mention. They were done by New Zealand’s own WETA Workshop, famous for its practical and digital work on The Lord of the Rings movies (they also have their origins in Peter Jackson’s early horrors). According to the commentary they agreed to do this film before that series hit and they became in great demand. Their expertise completely elevates this film over similar low-budget efforts, as does the cinematography. Independent films can suffer in this department, especially when set at night where there are few logical light sources and a lot of it has to be cheated (because in reality it would be pitch-black in the countryside at night), but Richard Bluck, first-time cinematographer although he has experience in the camera department, does a great job. This is the best way to approach to finding talent for an independent film – find people who are looking to rise in their career and as such will be invested in doing the best job they can on your movie.

For a debut, Black Sheep is funny,scary, and looks professional, although it’s not as good as it could have been if it wasn’t so tongue-in-cheek. I would have been more impressed had they taken this silly idea and made a completely serious movie out of it. In terms of killer animal movies, it’s far above The Killer Shrews but definitely below The Birds.

Verdict: Recommend.

Megamind (2010)

Apologies for this post being super-late. Also apologies to my brother, who liked this film and got me to watch it. Don’t feel (too) bad.

Megamind (Will Ferrell), a big-headed blue super-villain, was pitted against Metroman (Brad Pitt) almost from birth. With the help of Minion (David Cross), he plans and executes various schemes to do away with the hero. When one unexpectedly succeeds, he doesn’t know what to do next.

I really loathe Dreamworks Animation’s output. They use the same exaggerated facial and character poses in every film (see Dreamworks face at TV tropes). Their ideas are unoriginal, usually covering the same area as other, better films that are usually made by Pixar (Antz following A Bugs’ Life, Shark Tale following Finding Nemo, this following The Incredibles). The music choice is awful, lame tracks that have been made popular in a million other movies already. There are an abundance of dated pop culture references that aren’t funny. Ultimately, it feels like pandering to and manipulation of an audience of children who don’t know any better, while conceding a few unfunny jokes to the adults who have been dragged along. Compared to Pixar, whose every film is a delight for audiences of any age (granted I haven’t seen either Cars movie), Dreamworks are pathetic in comparison. I have yet to see How To Train Your Dragon or Kung Fu Panda. I’ve heard good things about them, but I also heard good things about Megamind, so I’m not sure what to believe anymore.

Let’s list what’s to like in this movie. First, the premise is original. What if a clumsy super-villain succeeded and actually managed to kill their superhero enemy? (This fairly dark idea was kept out of the marketing, for good reason). The film explores most of the interesting consequences of this. Second, there is some good voice talent. Normally Dreamworks cast stars and Pixar cast actors, but Will Ferrell, Tina Fey, Jonah Hill and Brad Pitt are actually quite funny, even if every time I heard Fey I started thinking of 30 Rock and wishing I was watching that instead. The third and last thing to love is Megamind’s (or really, Ferrell’s) Marlon Brando impression. This actually made me laugh out loud, something I was not expecting to do. There are a few other funny lines as well, such as:

She’ll never find out! That’s the point of lying.

Let’s list what’s to not like in this movie. The aforementioned goofy Dreamworks face which irritates me so much turns up every other second here. The self-conscious, over the top animation. Pixar manage to have exaggerated characters but they always capture recognisable movements, such as a little kids’ excitability or an old man’s slow shuffle walk. The soundtrack is awful (the score, by Hans Zimmer and Lorne Balfe is neither bad nor memorable enough to be good). ‘Welcome to the Jungle’ is really being used non-ironically in a movie in 2011. The worst part of the movie comes at the ‘all is lost moment’, the low point near the end of the second act before the hero rebounds to save the day. It’s unashamedly manipulative, saccharine, and goes on far too long. The end of the plot is really a cop-out.

The most offensive part of this film is how safe it is. Brad Bird’s The Incredibles perfectly captures what being in a family is actually like, including disappointments and arguments among the happy stuff. It never shies away from the serious moments (you feel as if all the characters, including the kids, are actually in danger and could actually die at any point). This never happens in Megamind, and any time something like this kind of serious moment approaches, it’s shot down with a grin, a gag, or undermined later in the plot. It’s very predictable. What’s most frustrating is how it’s full of missed opportunities. There is some good action spectacle and some fun camera movements through Metrocity that show what animation (and, I would imagine, 3D) can do, but if you think of the final battle in The Incredibles, this is really nothing we haven’t seen before.

I should have learned after Shark Tale. There were some fun moments in Megamind, but no-where near enough to justify its existence. There are so many better family films out there.

Verdict: Ambivalent.