Wonder Woman

There's a lot riding on Wonder Woman, the latest DC superhero film from Warner Bros, and not just because it's the first female led, female directed superhero film of the modern era. The previous three films in the DC Extended Universe have all underwhelmed to various degrees, either critically, financially, or both - all eyes are on Wonder Woman to prove that there is value to be found in this franchise yet, and while obviously imperfect at times, I'm pleased to say that it manages to do just that.

Told as an extended flashback framed around the photograph she was trying to reclaim in Batman V Superman: Dawn of Justice, Wonder Woman sees Diana Prince, Gal Gadot, getting involved in the First World War after learning of its existence when American spy/pilot Steve Trevor, Chris Pine, crashes his plane into the sea surrounding her home, the island of Themyscira. Concluding that only Ares, the God of War, could be behind this madness, Diana travels to London and later the Front Line with Steve to kill Ares and put an end to the war once and for all.

It's a fairly simple story that borrows more than just a little from Captain America: The First Avenger, but by no means is that intended to be a criticism of Wonder Woman. By taking a step back and choosing to tell a lean, character-focused origin story, the film has plenty of time to build Diana as a character and endear us to her, and from that perspective it's hard to fault. Diana is everything that previous DC protagonists haven't been - likeable, for a start, but also truly heroic, a genuinely good person not just deep down but outwardly too. Her compassion for others and deeply held belief that humanity is worth fighting for is the driving force not just of the character but the film as a whole - what we have in Diana Prince is DC's version of Captain America, and as with Chris Evans, it's almost as if Gal Gadot was born to play her. Regardless of the reservations some may have had about her casting, she's brilliant in the role, and I really can't imagine anyone else playing her.

It's the film's character-focused middle section where Wonder Woman is at it's strongest. It would be easy to look at the scenes set in London as nothing more than "fish-out-of-water" comedy, but Diana's unwillingness to adhere to the social norms of the time speaks volumes about her priorities, as well as being very funny. Likewise, the stunning, instantly iconic action sequence that sees Diana storming No Man's Land may be a very good action scene, but it's also showing us just how much she's willing to do for those in need, speaking to that innate sense of compassion she's imbued with. All the best aspects of Wonder Woman are rooted in showing us who Diana is, what she believes in and what she stands for, lending the film a sense of focus and cohesion that it may have otherwise lacked.

Which is why Wonder Woman's finale is ultimately such a major disappointment. Not only is it willing to embrace all the worst tendencies of modern superhero films - it's yet another incoherent, incomprehensible CGI punch fest between two virtually invulnerable beings focused only on appealing to what a 14 year old might think of as "cool" - it also contains a number of really strange storytelling choices that completely undermine Diana's character arc while removing any shades of grey or complexities that the film could have contained, problems only compounded by Ares being such a weak, boring antagonist when he finally does show up.

While there are other criticisms to be made of Wonder Woman - the consistently ropey CGI, the odd tonal misstep - it's really just the finale that holds it back from being the genuinely great, rather than just very good, piece of blockbuster entertainment that it could have been. Whether or not Warner Bros will be able to follow this up with something worthwhile remains to be seen - and I'm skeptical to say the least - but for now, Wonder Woman is certainly a pretty big step in the right direction.

Hacksaw Ridge

Nominated for six Academy Awards including Best Picture and Best Director, Hacksaw Ridge isn't just a declaration that Mel Gibson is back in Hollywood's good books. It may be his first directorial effort in a decade, but it's clear that the time he's been away hasn't changed him - not only is Hacksaw Ridge a well-made film, but his choice to revisit themes that he's more than familiar with also serves as a notice that he's still very much Mel Gibson, with all that entails.

Set predominantly during the Second World War, Hacksaw Ridge tells the true story of Private Desmond Doss, a combat medic who refused to kill or even hold a gun due to his beliefs as a Seventh-day Adventist. Despite that, he still managed to save the lives of 75 men during the Battle of Okinawa, becoming the first conscientious objector (or conscientious cooperator, as Doss puts it) to receive the Medal of Honor. It's a film of three distinct sections, one showing us Desmond's life before the war, one showing us the hardships he went through thanks to his status as a conscientious objector during training, and one showing us what Desmond did to earn the Medal of Honor - and in truth it's easy to see which parts of the film that director Mel Gibson was actually interested in. The first section, which introduces us to Desmond, his family and his future wife, is so mundane and it's only when Desmond makes his way to Fort Jackson for training that Hacksaw Ridge starts to come to life, coinciding neatly with when the actual story starts in earnest.

Gibson's direction is assured and capable throughout, particularly during the films battle scenes - the sequence that sees Desmond and the rest of his company make their way onto the smoke-filled battlefield for the first time is haunting, and Gibson is able to wring every drop of tension out of the build-up to when the shooting starts. When it does, Hacksaw Ridge isn't afraid of showing us the brutality of war - graphic, bloody shots of dismembered limbs, corpses and disturbing injuries litter these battle scenes, standing in stark contrast to the gentleness of the preceding sections and making them more effective, more evocative in the process. One has to wonder why Gibson hasn't directed a horror film yet - there is no doubt in my mind that his ability to build tension and his cinematic blood-lust would make him a natural fit for the genre.

On top of that, Andrew Garfield surprises by giving a really good performance as Desmond Doss, portraying the character's innate sense of goodness in a way that although cheesy somehow works in the context of the film, and Hugo Weaving imbues Desmond's PTSD-ridden father with all the gravitas, anger and vulnerability he can muster, creating a fairly compelling character out of one that could easily have been paper thin in the hands of someone else. However, Hacksaw Ridge has no interest in exploring the contradictions of Desmond Doss, a man so averse to violence that he can't even hold a gun but is more than willing to take an active part in the war, nor does it have any interest in examining the complicated relationship between faith, patriotism and war.

With a disgusting view of the Japanese, here portrayed more as a horde of inhumane, murderous monsters than actual people, Hacksaw Ridge ends up feeling almost like propaganda in comparison to other modern war films, a flaw that ultimately ends up holding it back from really earning that Best Picture nomination. The fact that Hacksaw Ridge is an undeniably well-made movie will be enough for some - but its failings on a deeper level stop it from being the truly great film that I believe it could have been.

John Wick Chapter Two

I don't think it's unfair to say that American action films tend to suck...

These days they're far too reliant on shaky-cam in order to mask the simple fact that their stars don't have the training required to make combat look good on screen, and there are very few films in recent years that have managed to overcome that in order to deliver a truly good fight scene. John Wick was one of the few, a film dedicated to practical action and real stunt work in a way that made it stand out amongst the crowd - and now John Wick Chapter 2 has done it again, full of the stylish action that made the first film such a breath of fresh air while also further exploring the heightened, pulpy world that these characters inhabit. And while we are revealing things, I only watched these films because my boyfriend is a huge fan of the action sequences. He brought to my attention how many films do not include shots of characters reloading their guns and frankly, it's changed my expectation of realism within the action genre. Well done John Wick for doing it right. Anyway, back to chapter two...

We follow legendary hitman John Wick as he is once again dragged out of retirement, this time by Santino D'Antonio, an Italian mob boss to whom he swore a blood oath many years ago. The rules of the world John once inhabited means that refusal to honour this blood oath will cost him his life, forcing him to travel to Rome in order to carry out a hit that he doesn't want to.

Even more so than its predecessor, the story told by John Wick Chapter 2 feels like a formality, little more than an excuse for action. Part of this is a problem that all sequels see - returning to an established world is rarely as interesting as building it in the first place - but it has to be said that John's mission here lacks the urgency or intimacy of his quest for vengeance in the first film, and this film's inability to create new side characters as interesting as the ones in John Wick is among its biggest failings. There are attempts, of course - Ruby Rose has a lot of screen presence as a mute bodyguard, and it's great to see John run into a rival assassin as skilled and driven as he in the form of Common's Cassian - but neither of these characters manage to leave the same kind of impression that Marcus or Miss Perkins did in John Wick. This problem extends to the main antagonist of the piece too - Santino D'Antonio is frustratingly two-dimensional in comparison to Iosef and Viggo Tarasov, the Russian mobsters of the first film.

And that's a real shame, especially when the rest of John Wick Chapter 2 is either as good as or maybe even better than its predecessor. My only real complaints about the first film were that John was so good at what he does that he rarely felt in danger and that we didn't have quite enough time to explore the vibrant, imaginative world that the film was building - John Wick Chapter 2 addresses both of those points wonderfully, putting John on the defensive for the first time in the middle of the film while also further fleshing out this world and its customs. It's this middle section that turns John Wick Chapter 2 from merely a good sequel into something more. We get a much greater sense of the extent of this world, and the action sequences here take on a brutality and physicality, a sense of desperation that the first film lacked. Seeing John shoot a lot of people is great, of course, but seeing John forced to improvise when he's on the back foot is something else entirely.

It should go without saying that John Wick Chapter 2 is just as well-shot and expertly choreographed as John Wick was, even if it doesn't quite manage to reach the heights of the first film's nightclub sequence. Keanu Reeves reportedly underwent four full months of training in stunt driving, shooting and various martial arts for this film, and it shows - John Wick Chapter 2 owes much of its success to the amount of faith it is able to place in its star, and Reeves doesn't disappoint.

John Wick

Action films are all about momentum. All the best action films, from classics like Die Hard to more modern films like Dredd rely on a strong sense of direction and a plot created by cause and effect in order to ensure that the audience is as wrapped up in the film as the characters are. There's a reason why action films set over a short period of time always seem to work best – it's because the film never loses that momentum. John Wick is a film that understands that. We follow ex-hitman John Wick as he fights his way through various members of the underground world that he used to inhabit in order to kill a man who stole his car and killed his dog, the son of his previous employer.

As far as the plot goes, that's pretty much it. John Wick is a revenge film first and foremost, but in it's defence, a smart one – our main character isn't taking vengeance on the boy for the loss of his dog and car so much as he is lashing out at the world after the loss of his wife, a temper tantrum caused by his inability to grieve with a body count of dozens. This focus on character is one of the many small things that make John Wick more than just another action film – it has some real substance just below the surface.

Additionally, the simple plot allows John Wick to retain the aforementioned sense of momentum that all great action movies need. From the moment John picks up his gun, he's thrown straight into some incredibly well choreographed and filmed action scenes that are never simply there to break up the story – instead, the action scenes are the story, and John Wick flows in and out of them as easily as our main character does.

It's probably worth noting just how good John Wick looks. You could be forgiven for thinking that you are watching a particularly meticulously shot arthouse film at times – it's potentially one of the best looking action films I've seen, lights and colours popping out of the screen and contrasting heavily with the darkness surrounding them. This is best exemplified by the nightclub action scene, potentially the highlight of film.

Keanu Reeves is great in the lead role, the actors history as an action star before falling out of the limelight syncing really well with the back story of John, a form of shorthand for characterisation that feels as if it is close to breaking the fourth wall. For a film of this size, the casting is excellent, with recognisable names such as Willem Dafoe, Ian McShane and Adrianne Palicki all making their mark on the film as unique and interesting characters.

The main problem with John Wick is that our central character is almost too good. We know from the start that John was the best at what he did when he still worked as a hitman (part of the charm of the first act is seeing the various characters react to the news that they've got a pissed off John Wick on the way), but the result of this is that John is never in any real danger thanks to the films unwillingness to allow him to come across anyone that could be considered a real threat, and because of that the stakes never seem high enough. There is no sense of escalation, nothing for our hero to really have to overcome, and that impacts John Wick in a way that I don't think could have been predicted.

It's a minor issue, but one that ultimately stops John Wick from being as good as it could have been, which is a real shame because it's pretty fantastic in every other way. The highlight of the film for me was the amount of imagination that went into the criminal underworld – there's honour amongst thieves in John Wick, a culture for criminals that has resulted in an exclusive hotel called the Continental just for the underworld being set up, one with it's own strict rules and a secret currency. It's a great exercise in world building, and another small detail that again sets John Wick apart from the rest.

I wish John Wick had been just 10 or 15 minutes longer in order to further explore this very rich world that it has created. I wanted to see more of Ms Perkins and Marcus and the Continental, but the film doesn't quite have the time to really get it's teeth stuck into the fantastic little world that it takes place in. Regardless, it's a must see for anyone who loves action films, a visually stunning and well-paced trip through a wonderful world that will no doubt achieve cult classic status before long.

Get Out

It may seem a little counter-intuitive, but the best horror films aren't necessarily the scariest. Horror as a genre works best when it's married to the fears of its audience in a much broader sense, and for that reason the best horror films tend to be those tuned into the zeitgeist of the time, those willing to be about something in a way that a lot of modern horror rarely is. Whether it be the anti-consumerism of Dawn of the Dead, the red scare of Invasion of the Body Snatchers or the technophobia of Black Mirror, social commentary and horror have always made for a great pairing - it's little surprise then that Get Out is no exception, commenting on race and culture in modern America and establishing itself as an instant classic in the process.

We follow Chris Washington, Daniel Kaluuya, as he and his girlfriend, Rose Armitage, Allison Williams, travel to her family home for the weekend in order for him to meet her parents for the first time. Rose has never had a black boyfriend before, and the fact that she hasn't yet told her parents about Chris being black has him concerned about their reaction. Fortunately for him, Rose's parents are liberal and tolerant to a fault, but that doesn't stop Chris from feeling uncomfortable and out of place - a feeling that only grows when he starts to notice the strange behaviour of the Armitage's black servants, and the eagerness of Rose's mother to place him under hypnosis and cure his smoking addiction.

It's the first film from writer/director Jordan Peele, but you wouldn't know that from watching it. Get Out has to be one of the most assured, capable directorial debuts we've seen in some time, incredibly well-crafted both technically and textually in a way that you rarely see from first time directors. It's clear that Peele had a lot that he wanted to say with Get Out, and the result is a film that feels as if it sprung fully-formed from his brain onto the screen - it's as singular a vision as you are likely to see, a work that feels so complete and cohesive that it's hard to imagine it ever existing in any other state.

It would be easy to put that down to how well-written it is - there isn't an ounce of fat to be found here, every scene serving a distinct, important purpose and adding to the film overall - but Peele's talent behind the camera can't be ignored either. His control of tone is quite frankly masterful, allowing him to transition from pure comedy to unbearable tension in the time it takes to hang up a phone, and the social awkwardness between Chris and Rose's parents is palpable to the point of being actively uncomfortable to watch. Even if Get Out were just another horror film, the skill with which it's made would establish Jordan Peele as a film-maker very much worth keeping an eye on.

But it's not just another horror film, and that aforementioned social commentary is what makes Get Out something truly special. It's an indictment of race as a fashion accessory, an examination of how Western society fetishises and appropriates black culture for its own purposes, a mocking look at those who are more interested in appearing progressive than they are actually being progressive. Add to all that the truly brilliant performances given by the entire cast and the wicked sense of subversion present throughout, and Get Out is quite simply a must-see film, melding effective horror with a great sense of humour to create something that's sure to leave a lasting impression. 

I referred to Get Out as an instant classic earlier on in this review, a tired phrase that's thrown around a little too often - but Get Out earns that level of acclaim, and I can't wait to see what Jordan Peele does next.

Beauty & The Beast

It's no secret that there aren't a whole lot of new ideas left in Hollywood anymore. The death of the mid major movie (your $35 million budget film with respectable but not outrageous aspirations) has led to a studio-dominated box office filled with sequels, franchises, reboots and remakes. And none exemplifies this more than Disney, the amoeba of the film world that has systematically subsumed the likes of Marvel and Star Wars to become the big name in blockbuster filmmaking. And while the animated division of Disney continues to flirt with originality (Moana), the live action side of things has taken to cannibalize itself through live action remakes of many of these beloved animated classics. These films have seen success, from Alice in Wonderland, Cinderella and Maleficent, and Disney clearly seems to be enjoying themselves putting more and more of these remakes in the pipeline. But whereas its initial forays into the trend were all classics from 50 or more years ago, 2017 marks their first attempt to update a classic film much of its audience would have had the chance to see in the theater: 1991’s Beauty and the Beast.

Choosing to resurrect the first ever animated film to be nominated for Best Picture at the Academy Awards is a tall task, and Disney enlisted Bill Condon to shepherd the project to the screen. Condon has had a fascinating roller coaster of a career, with ups (Dreamgirls) and downs (the final two Twilight movies). But he does have a pretty solid piece of source material to draw from. Writers Stephen Chbosky and Evan Spiliotopoulos took the tale and expanded it but the skeleton remains the same. It’s still about Belle, Emma Watson, and she’s still a bookish outcast in her tiny little village, still dodging the romantic advances of muscle-with-legs Gaston, Luke Evans. She comes into contact with The Beast, heavily CGI'd Dan Stevens, after the disappearance of her father, who accidentally stumbled upon his hidden castle in the woods. The Beast was cursed for being an unsympathetic in his younger princely days, with his servants turned into various household objects, and if the now hideous monster could feel true love before the wilting of a magic rose, he would be returned to his former self. With Belle in the castle, having chosen to replace her father as the Beast’s prisoner, his servants go to work to make them fall in love. See? Same old song and dance.

The easiest thing to notice about Beauty and the Beast 2.0 is its choreography. The opening replaces the original’s storybook retelling of the cursing of the prince with a look into one of his opulent parties, with endless patrons dancing through a giant ballroom, the camera swooping and turning, the edits coming fast and loose. It’s chaotic and it’s busy and it’s honestly often incomprehensible, an assault of the senses that threatens to tire you out before it has a chance to get going. The hope would be that the open is so aggressive as to contrast it with the sleepy simple life of Belle’s village, but that hope is soon dashed by Condon’s staging of Belle’s classic opening number, Belle, and the same chaos reigns. It makes for a rather exhausting and deadening first twenty minutes.

When things quiet down (which happens more rarely than you might assume) it settles into something a bit more palatable. Dan Stevens does an admirable job aping Robby Benson’s bellows and growls, while successfully mapping The Beast’s transition from hard-hearted brute to the sort of person Belle could fall in love with. The design of the servants is well-implemented, whether it’s Lumiere, Ewan McGregor, and his sashaying style, or the cowardly and cantankerous Cogsworth, Ian McKellen, their individual personalities shining through the computer generated objects. Perhaps surprisingly, Watson’s Belle isn’t particularly inspiring; she doesn’t quite seem to find the right balance in her characterization and comes off as a bit one note. Luke Evans has Gaston down pat, but Josh Gad’s LeFou seems to vary too much in his personality to get a real beat on him. The characters are about as uneven as the film is. The additions to the story, whether it’s the expansion of the enchantress who initially applied the curse or some additional backstory involving Belle’s mother, all fall flat, as do the film’s new songs. Some things work, but the aspects that don’t work seem to have more staying power, leading to a pretty disappointing experience.

There was a simplicity to the 1991 Beauty and the Beast that Condon simply fails to replicate.

King Kong: Skull Island

There’s no secret that Kong: Skull Island had nothing in common with the three previous versions (1933, 1976, 2005) other than the ape’s name and the location name. Everything else is completely different and somewhat fresh to us, probably not so much to a Japanese audience, as they made multiple films with Kong either as a protagonist or as an antagonist. But for Western audiences it’s a completely new take on a historical and beloved Hollywood character.

The journey begins in 1973 on the day the United States pulled out of Vietnam. Explorer Bill Randa, John Goodman, and his associate Houston Brooks, Corey Hawkins, convince the government to fund their expedition to an uncharted island in the Pacific. Needing help, they enlist Col. Preston Packard, Samuel L. Jackson, and the members of his military group as military escorts, anti-war photographer Mason Weaver, Brie Larson, and, the leading man, ex-British special forces tracker James Conrad, Tom Hiddleston. As soon as the team arrives, they discover that the land they believe they have founded is a world ruled by a gorilla the size of a building: Kong. 

As for the human characters (who, let’s face it, are just the supporting roles here), the cast is a decidedly mixed bag of ultimately weak personalities. The most forgettable performance comes from the man who was given top billing, Hiddleston, phoning it in as the typical straight man. He is heroic, clever, morally motivated and always right about everything. Essentially, he is the direct opposite of Jackson’s character, a proud, honorable military leader who has grown slightly unhinged since the end of the Vietnam War. As for Larson, while her Farrah Fawcett-haired character comes forth slightly underdeveloped, she gives her a strong, witty and courageous personality that comes in handy when she actively participates in the action sequences despite never having a gun. While I applaud the culturally diverse casting most of the characters feel unworthy to root for.

The exception is John C. Reilly as Hank Marlow, a World War II pilot whose plane went down in 1944 leaving him stranded on the titular island ever since. He completely steals the show by thankfully abandoning the “dehumanized, feral stranded victim” trope, giddily guiding the explorers through the island’s native culture and steering them away from the most dangerous areas and creatures. With his optimistic and thoroughly hilarious portrayal, Reilly is more than the film’s comic relief: he is its heart and soul.

Despite moments lacking in more of his own screen time, seeing the king of Skull Island in action is worth the wait. The beautifully shot fight scenes between Kong and creatures that Marlow calls “Skull Crawlers” feel like a child’s fantasies during an action figure crushing session at afternoon playtime brought to life. The film is fast paced, action packed and simply written yet it's real charm comes from director Jordan Vogt-Roberts and cinematographer Larry Fong, who seems to reach higher heights than other Hollywood action expert Zack Snyder. They manage to execute a cheesy, sub-par script with mostly forgettable performances into a surprisingly and thoroughly entertaining monster movie. With beautiful aesthetic, impressive action direction and an irresistible nostalgic tone, this island proves worth returning to.