The Grinch (2018)

For their eighth fully animated feature, Illumination and Universal Pictures present The Grinch, based on Dr. Seuss’ beloved holiday classic. The Grinch tells the story of a cynical grump who goes on a mission to steal Christmas, only to have his heart changed by a young girl’s generous holiday spirit. Funny, heartwarming and visually stunning, it’s a universal story about the spirit of Christmas and the indomitable power of optimism. Illumination’s take on How The Grinch Stole Christmas is as warm and sweet and comforting as a hot mug of cocoa that’s mostly marshmallow.

Those familiar with Dr. Seuss’ Christmas tale will recognise the opening all too well. We sweep and swoop over the town of Whoville—bustling with Christmas colours and sounds—as the introduction to the place and time of year is given through voice over. Feelings of familiarity trickle in, accompanied by a dynamic camera that grabs us by the hand to explore the town. In a movie that might seem uncalled for, the same-ness you might be expecting ends there. The core story is tried and true, but the slick pace of The Grinch doesn’t waste time showing us things we’ve seen before at length, and goes as far as to realign and shed what’s not important in this fictional land. As the happy town of Whoville busies itself preparing for Christmas, Academy Award nominee Benedict Cumberbatch lends his voice to the infamous Grinch, who lives a solitary life inside a cave on Mt. Crumpet with only his loyal dog, Max, for company. With a cave rigged with inventions and contraptions for his day-to-day needs, the Grinch only sees his neighbours in Who-ville when he runs out of food. Each year at Christmas they disrupt his tranquil solitude with their increasingly bigger, brighter and louder celebrations. When the Whos declare they are going to make Christmas three times bigger this year, the Grinch realises there is only one way for him to gain some peace and quiet: he must steal Christmas. To do so, he decides he will pose as Santa Claus on Christmas Eve, even going so far as to trap a lackadaisical misfit reindeer to pull his sleigh. But of course, we all know this classic story by now!

From the snowy opening alone it’s clear the animation style goes straight down the middle. The characters are simple and nothing stands out, but the textures in the snow and materials are delicate, bringing winter and the fuzz on the Whos’ faces to life. What’s most noteworthy is the fun direction. One of the blessings of animation is total control, and that’s something directors Yarrow Cheney and Scott Mosier make full use of. The delights of the swings, loops and circles that dance around the characters are enough to keep the visuals interesting, and even if they weren’t, the saturated colours and beautiful details of Whoville and the Grinch’s mountain peak would be. A lot of what The Grinch lacks in fully developed storytelling is made up for with pretty renderings that do well to distract.

Dr Seuss’ original work is short on side plots and additional details so this animated offering – like the 2000 live-action movie – finds ways to embellish and expand the story. Both offer an insight into the Grinch’s childhood loneliness to provide some motive for his lack of Christmas cheer, but this animated offering also adds in a side plot involving a rotund comedy reindeer called Fred and opts to give Cindy Loo-Who, voiced by Cameron Seely, much more agency than before, giving her a parallel plot of trying to make a Christmas wish for her mother come true. A big difference here is that the 2018 incarnation of The Grinch is immediately more sympathetic than any we’ve seen before. His mean-spiritedness is clearly conflicted, with numerous indications that he’s not the mean and nasty creature of previous versions. His dog Max, for example, is clearly loved and loves the Grinch in return and while he’s not the kindest of friends, the Grinch has friends in Whoville and he’s not the ostracised villain seen in other adaptations.

It’s exactly what you would expect, though, from Illumination, whose family-friendly animated offerings often skew young and cutesy and when it comes to that target audience, this film plays like gangbusters. The Grinch won’t be revelatory for anyone who’s seen on-screen translations before, but for a new generation of little ones it spreads a wonderful message of love and outreach. So although this film will be added to my annual December viewing list, it does not reach the level of the 2000s adaptation. Jim Carrey still holds the Grinch crown in my eyes. 

The Holiday

It's officially December, so I'm going to revisit one of my go to Christmas-vibes film. It's not my favourite, and I'm not always complimentary of it, but I do reach for it around this time every year. So let's dive in!

To list all the contrivances strewn throughout The Holiday would require more words than are warranted by Nancy Meyers’s festive batch of cinematic maple syrup. However, the kooky, heartwarming cutesiness peddled by this lovefest is—despite the film’s numerous references to, and accompanying desire to tread in the path of, classic Hollywood screwball romances—of a distinctly modern vintage. 

The Something’s Gotta Give writer-director’s painstakingly arranged tale involves the twin plights of neurotic American movie-trailer editor Amanda, played by Cameron Diaz, and clingy British newspaperwoman Iris, Kate Winslet. Iris lives in London, Amanda in Los Angeles, both are as different as can be. However, they have one thing in common; lousy relationships with men who take advantage of them. Feeling fed up, they agree to trade houses for two weeks and soon find themselves crossing the ocean in hopes of leaving their troubled lives behind. What they did not expect was to find love on the other side of the pond... Gag, I know. But in December, I love it!

The film's love interests/dreamboats take the form of Jude Law (for Diaz) and Jack Black (for Winslet), a superficially raw deal for Winslet that nonetheless works to her benefit once it’s revealed that Law’s book editor Graham is a hunk of blandness and Black’s film composer Miles is a witty, self-deprecating charmer. Of course, these guys have secrets and/or personality quirks that make them seem initially wrong and then ultimately ideal mates for their respective beauties. Yet stranger than The Holiday's by-the-books fantasy is its subplot involving Iris’s friendship with neighbouring senior citizen and Oscar-winning screenwriter Arthur, played by Eli Wallach, which, besides giving Myers the opportunity to pointlessly juxtapose the sight of The Good, The Bad and the Ugly star with an Ennio Morricone tune, both features an odd criticism of Hollywood’s obsession with opening weekend box-office figures, and adds a nauseating dose of sentimentality to the proceedings. While Amanda and Graham make a strikingly attractive but thoroughly dull couple, Winslet and Black’s credible chemistry partially makes up for the run-of-the-mill characters and implausible situations they’ve been saddled with. The duo’s genuineness, however, doesn’t change the fact that, for the sake of his career and the good of moviegoers everywhere, Black needs to stop with the improvised weirdo singing that’s become his worn-out trademark.

It may come as a surprise that I love this Christmas movie, and it is probably not for reason you think. Actually my love of the film is for the side-story of Iris and Arthur. As mentioned, Arthur is an elderly man, quite alone, Iris encounters in Los Angeles. Arthur is portrayed by the legendary Eli Wallach; who's career spanned over seven decades. He was a legend and to see him in The Holiday was a very sweet treat indeed. His scenes with Kate Winslet in the restaurant are poignant and amazing and will give food for thought for all of us who feel a little less confident at times. To me, the movie is worth seeing for those scenes alone.

Granted, the movie has, at times, painfully dull or overly-sentimental moments, yet my love for this movie does not diminish with each viewing. If you have not seen it, I urge you to do so. It is syrupy sweet, fitting the standard Rom-Com template, but it's a comfortable watch and surprisingly festive in feel. 

Halloween (2018)

40 years since Michael Myers, The Shape, first terrorised the quiet town of Haddonfield on Halloween night. Although audiences didn’t know it, John Carpenter’s Halloween was the start of something special when it hit the big screen in 1978. It not only introduced us to one of the most famous killers to be put to film, but it laid the groundwork for every slasher film that followed it. Sure, the rules it set were sometimes bent and occasionally broken, but its influence can still be felt in every masked killer horror film that has come out in the years since it made those rules. Four decades, seven – not always watchable – sequels, and a much maligned reboot later, Blumhouse, one of the biggest names in modern horror, brought Halloween back. And expectations were high. 

It’s been a long time since the kid with a penchant for masks and stabbing people found his way back to his home town, grown up, angry, and ready to take it out on any babysitter he could find. Now, having wallowed in Smith’s Grove Asylum for 40 years, an ill-fated bus trip to a new prison ends with a crash and Michael on the loose. Carving a bloody trail towards his hometown, The Shape appears to be single-minded in his need to finish what he started all those years ago and eviscerate Laurie Strode, the babysitter that got away. Unfortunately for the near supernatural serial killer, Laurie hasn’t been idly twiddling her thumbs for all these years; she’s been preparing herself and her now three generations deep family for this day and this upcoming fight.

Nearly ten years after the last film to don the name Halloween seemed to all but kill the chances of another, it has taken an unlikely pair to bring Micheal Myers back to the big screen where he belongs. Teaming up with Blumhouse Productions for this new entry in the series, screenwriter Danny McBride and Pineapple Express director David Gordon Green. The pair come out big and bold, not only showing that they have the balls to take on a project of this magnitude, but give us an hour and forty minute, scene by scene showcase on why they are the perfect guys for the job.

Refusing to waste its audience’s time, Halloween gets straight to the point with a trip to the soon-to-be closed down asylum where Aaron Korey and Dana Haines (Jefferson Hall and Rhian Rees), a pair of investigative journalists looking to resurrect the Myers myth try to interview, and subsequently taunt, our antagonist. Not to be discarded as a throw away opening, this scene gives us our first look in 40 years at Nick Castle’s The Shape and instantly shows us the man and his demeanour, without really showing us anything of the actual man as camera angles, fast edits and dirty windows disguise Myers as much as his mask has done in the past. For those thinking that we might get a killer we can sympathise with, a character flawed and needing nothing but a good hug, Halloween reminds you quickly that that isn’t the case. Michael’s first on-screen kill is cold and vicious and serves to show you that this might be the softer, nicer 21st century, but this killer didn’t get your memo. The film takes you to a place that many audiences would have thought off-limits until this point, as writers, producers, and the director flash you their platinum horror membership cards and show you they mean business. He's nasty, he’s brutal, and he’s wholly unforgiving of anyone that gets in his way. Once freed from the shackles that held him, he’s dangerous; once he has his mask back, all bets are off.

It doesn’t happen very often; horror is a genre much forgotten and abused and frequently used for quick cash, but Halloween is a perfect horror experience. Heavy on scares, atmosphere and fun kills; light on plot sag and story slowdown. You can get behind our soon-to-be victims as much as you can get behind the mythical monster chasing them and you can find yourself scared for these people and holding your breath in hope of a safe escape. Green and McBride know they owe everything to the 40 years before this and they show an unending respect for that heritage. They know that there is no 2018 iteration of this legendary series without the films that provided the roadmap to get here. They know this series doesn’t continue without the twists, turns, and frankly ludicrous left field moments in the lore, and whether they and fans want to admit it or not, without Rob Zombie’s much hated vision of The Shape, this film simply can’t exist. These gentlemen know this, and they treat that legacy with the respect it deserves.

There is plenty for newcomers and die hard fans alike: glorious kills, and nostalgic throwbacks that even get an old Halloween cynic like this writer a happy tear and a wry smile.

First Man

We hear the metal of the ship groaning in protest of the immense forces being placed upon it. We see various dials and displays that are shaking so violently they're impossible to read. Over a headset, a voice gives barely audible instructions that the crafts pilot can do nothing about thanks to the intense G-forces that are pinning him to the back of his chair. This flight isn't graceful, or easy: it's a tiny, claustrophobic tin can that is propelling itself through sky not with finesse or grace but through nothing more than a vaguely controlled explosion that has been pointed in roughly the right direction, and the grimace of the astronauts face as he endures the shaking and hopes against hope that everything will turn out OK only worsens as the screaming of the metal gets all the louder and the shaking all the more vicious. And then, as the nose of the craft begins to glow red hot, just as you think this almost comically primitive shuttle hurtling through the air at incredible speeds can't possibly take much more: silence. Stillness. Peaceful serenity as it exits the atmosphere. Floating gently, the shuttle offers its inhabitant a beautiful glimpse of Earth from afar. It's a view that very few people are lucky enough to have seen to this day. The journey was a success - he survives, at least for now.

It's in these moments that First Man is at its very best, managing to imbue the NASA missions that Neil Armstrong and others undertook with an incredible amount of tension despite the fact that we already know what the outcomes are, fully managing to make us understand both how dangerous the early space missions were and how terrifying they must've been for those brave enough to undertake them. Sequences like this punctuate First Man's nearly two and half hour long running time throughout, each one more tense and gripping than the last.

Around those sequences First Man is a different film entirely, either giving us an abridged but still educational overview of how NASA went about putting a man on the moon, or speculating about what might've driven Neil Armstrong to become that man through the lens of his family. Chazelle's decision to shoot the majority of the movie on small, grainy film stock lends First Man a sense of authenticity that is not only heightened by some scenes being shot in a documentary-style way but also helps make the IMAX moon landing finale feel all the more spectacular. There is a sense of quiet confidence and simple, solid filmmaking that really, really works, proving that Chazelle isn't particularly interested in being just one kind of filmmaker, refusing to stay in whatever box his previous films have placed him in.

That isn't to say that First Man is totally different to his earlier work, however. They may be worlds apart in terms of genre or style, but First Man is still very much a story of ambition, the lengths that people might go to and the sacrifices they have to make to achieve their goals, and in that sense it actually feels surprisingly apiece with both Whiplash and La La Land, all three of them adding up to create a far more nuanced look at these topics. Previously, we were left to wonder where Chazelle actually stood on the arguably ambiguous endings of his films - now, I think it's pretty clear that they're all approaching the same ideas from different angles and viewpoints, showing the greatness that can be achieved when people aim for the stars and the way those ambitions can end up driving someone down a bad path. I could be wrong, of course - there's an outside chance that Chazelle sees the story of Neil Armstrong and the story of Whiplash's Andrew Neiman as one and the same - Andrew's victory at the end of Whiplash justifying what he was put through in the same way that Neil Armstrong walking on the moon justified the hardships he and his family went through - but I doubt it.

All that being said, ultimately I'd struggle to argue with anyone who said that First Man isn't quite able meet the standard set by Whiplash and La La Land. Despite all its prestige and a number of fantastic performances (particularly from Claire Foy as Janet Armstrong, who almost single-handedly makes the sections of First Man work on a deeper emotional level), First Man is ultimately a touch too formulaic and not quite attention grabbing enough to leave the same kind of impression that Chazelle's previous films have, regardless of how solid the filmmaking is throughout. What it is, however, is proof, if proof were needed, that Damien Chazelle has a lot more variation in him than Whiplash or La La Land might've suggested - and I can't wait to see where that leads him next.

A Simple Favour

A Simple Favour is a pretty delicate balancing act. It's a thriller told with a broad sense of humour (even slapstick at times). One false move could have been deadly, resulting in a film self-serious, or straining to be relevant. But A Simple Favour, directed by Paul Feig, has its cake and eats it too. It's suspenseful, but also hilarious. It's insightful about the head games women can play with each other, but it doesn't burden itself with trying to be meaningful. It's not trying to say something about how we live now or anything like that. What a relief to watch a film unafraid of letting its hair down - reflective, I believe, of the film's leading ladies. The plot shares some similarities with Gone Girl, but that's where the comparison should end. Gone Girl took itself very seriously. A Simple Favour doesn't take itself seriously at all. And that's a good thing.

Single super-mom, Stephanie Smothers, played by Anna Kendrick, meets the mother of her son's best friend, Emily Nelson, Blake Lively, who likes to drink, has a demanding job, and isn't much of a hands-on mother. The two have hardly any anything in common, but quickly become good friends. Several weeks later, Emily vanishes without a trace leaving her husband, Sean, Henry Golding, and Stephanie with a mystery on their hands. As they investigate what happened to Emily, they quickly realise they didn't know her as well as they thought.

A Simple Favour works because of the performances of all three leads. Anna Kendrick is fanatic as the awkward and naive Stephanie. She has tons of really funny moments and is very sweet, but even with a slight edge - the character and the performance is believable. Blake Lively is endlessly entertaining, extremely enigmatic, and unbelievably charismatic. It helps that I am a little bit in love with her. She's beautiful and seemingly lovely in real life! Henry Golding also oozes charisma and adds an unexpected amount of intrigue to the film. All three of them have excellent chemistry and provide, in my opinion, one of the best ensembles of the year. One of Paul Feig's gifts as a director is working with strong charismatic women, giving them space to whoop it up, work off one another, be co-creators. There's space in his approach, space left for behavior, humour, spontaneity.

The plot is really engaging and has seemingly endless twists and turns that leave you constantly wondering what is going to happen next and what is actually true. Each of these characters have secrets, each more shocking than the last, and there are some jaw-dropping moments throughout the film. Director Paul Feig does a great job of giving us his vision of this story. The direction is marvelous and stylish and wouldn't be nearly as good in a lesser director's hands. Unfortunately, the afore mentioned twists and turns overwhelm at times and turn the film into something it didn't intend to be - a parody of genre cinema. Granted, it does find its way back on track, but the journey isn't entirely smooth.

A Simple Favour is one of my favourite films of the year. It has excellent performances all around, a really engaging story and great direction. Interestingly, one of the strongest aspects of this film's success has been its marketing. I don't often interact with film campaigns but I could not avoid this one - the intrigue was there from the start! 

A Star is Born

A Star is Born is a rarely well made remake that delivers an affecting and effective new take on a tragic love story as Bradley Cooper makes a 4th reiteration of the classic and  manages to put a fresh spin on a Hollywood fable thanks to captivating visuals, chemistry, and performances. In this new take on the tragic love story, seasoned musician Jackson Maine, played by Bradley Cooper, discovers—and falls in love with—struggling artist Ally, Lady Gaga. She has just about given up on her dream to make it big as a singer… until Jack coaxes her into the spotlight. But even as Ally’s career takes off, the personal side of their relationship is breaking down, as Jack fights an ongoing battle with his own internal demons.

Cooper’s directorial debut is a soulfully satisfying love story that straddles the line between mainstream and Oscar-contender. The movie features live performances that reminded us why we all wanted to be rock stars at when we were young. Shot at real festivals like the Coachella and Glastonbury, there is a lived-in and immersive vibe to the film that shows the scale and impact of being famous. When Ally belts the chorus of her song for the first time on stage, the movie erupts with a geyser of feeling. Cooper keeps the camera on her face, showing us that transformative moment of uncertainty to triumphant conviction. The on screen crowd responds and so did many in the audience in the screening – that cathartic magic that can only come from the power of cinema. It’s this intimate kind of filmmaking that makes A Star is Born a must see on the big screen.

Gaga manages to make you forget about her larger than life persona and delivers a convincing, unassuming yet special dive-bar singer. And even when Ally manages to get it all, the down-to-earth restless woman is still there - it's hard not to root for her. In fact, I've been outspoken about my disinterest in Gaga and how I felt her acting (American Horror Story) was a hobby that too many people had invested in. Yet, I walked away surprised, moved and behind her 100% of the way. This is Gaga’s first lead role in a feature film and she kills it in a natural, experienced actress kind of way. If you aren’t a Little Monster by now, this film will convert you. I now realise her previous acting was misplaced (or rather miscast) in the wrong roles. What it took was a well rounded character, wonderfully written with depth, edge and grit to really bring Gaga's acting abilities into the golden glow of a potential Oscar. Yes, I think this film will be heavily nominated based on critic and audience reception so far and I think she will be the main recipient. 

Cooper has never been better onscreen. He’s one of the biggest stars in the world, but when you watch him in A Star Is Born, you don’t think you’re watching Bradley Cooper. You’re watching Jackson Maine. He melts into the trouble rockstar role seamlessly. He anchors the entire film from start to finish. As someone who was a newcomer to the guitar and singing, Bradley could easily be a rockstar if he wanted. Cooper, whose screen persona can so often be bland and unchallenging, makes precisely this conservative tendency work for him in the role. He is so sad you want to hug him.

I would’ve never thought that Lady Gaga and Bradley Cooper could be paired in a feature together, but their chemistry is amazing. When they are on screen together they are electrifying, especially when they play music together. The same can be said whenever there are interactions with the supporting cast. Andrew Dice Clay as Ally’s father is great and surprisingly charming. Dave Chappelle is great as he delivers an amazing monologue, and so is Anthony Ramos as Ally’s best friend. Sam Elliott as Jackson’s brother was incredible in this film. Some other appearances (Alec Baldwin) were bizarre to me but I guess they fit into the Hollywood/Entertainment Industry world that is being portrayed.

A Star Is Born will likely go far during awards season. It has all of the elements of an Oscar contender – a beautifully crafted melodrama about the entertainment industry. It’s not a stretch to expect that most audiences will love this film and the chemistry between Gaga and Cooper. You’re in good hands technically and aesthetically with this remake of A Star Is Born, but brace yourself for heartbreak. 

Hereditary

Empathy is a funny old thing. The ability to put ourselves in someone else's shoes and imagine what it must feel like to be in the same situation as them is, as far as I'm aware, a uniquely human trait, one that allows us to be more compassionate than any other creature on the face of the planet. It's also something that we often choose to ignore when it might be an inconvenience, shutting ourselves off from the plight of others if it might disrupt something as simple as the way we like to think of the world, or the ease with which we go about living our lives. Empathy is behind all that humanity should be most proud of; our ability to ignore it is responsible for our most terrible acts.

Which is part of what makes Hereditary, a film that plays with empathy throughout, such an interesting movie. It's a horror film first and foremost, but behind that there's a story of family, loss and the strain that can put on any relationship that ultimately ends up being Hereditary's most compelling feature. Yes, it's a film that asks more of its audience than a lot of horror films do, both in the level you're expected to engage with the material and in accepting a handful of what can only be described as goofy moments - but it's also got a lot more to offer than a lot of horror films too, a trade off that is at least in my eyes completely worth it.

For all the traditional horror that Hereditary throws at its audience come the finale, it's ultimately the tense family drama at the heart of it that holds most of the film's potent scares, all of which are rooted in our ability to empathise - or more accurately, the fact we can't help but empathise - with these characters and the situations they find themselves in. We're left to sit and stew with this family as their situation only grows worse through a series of slowly escalating but wholly believable events, pushing them into conflict with one another in understandable ways and only shortening the fuse on this already ticking time bomb. This is where a lot of Hereditary's tension comes from, simply seeing the breakdown of this family in pretty much real time, which when combined with the masterful way that Hereditary doles out new information about this family and their history together adds up to create a deeply engaging piece of drama.

But the real genius of this is that it never feels like a simple drama. That might be the area that the first half of Hereditary's story is almost solely operating in, but the actual film-making is in full blown horror mode throughout, lending even the most otherwise ordinary of scenes an extra sense of dread and tension that only adds to the films distinctive atmosphere and sense of mystery, again long before Hereditary actually plays its hand. The sound design is phenomenal, ensuring that when a noise is meant to startle or creep you out it's easily able to do so, and the cinematography is frankly like nothing I've ever seen before, playing with negative space, lighting, movement and even your own eyes' ability to adapt to darkness in order to keep you off balance and frantically searching the screen for what you think might be hiding there throughout.

Everyone has their part to play in Hereditary, from the overtly creepy daughter played by Milly Shapiro to the resigned father played by Gabriel Byrne, but ultimately it's Toni Collette and Alex Wolff as the mother and son respectively who deserve the most recognition. They're the two most interesting, relatable characters in the film, and the relationship between the two of them is vital to the film's success - a success that is never in danger thanks to the powerful, vulnerable and deeply human performances they're each giving. 

This is a film that made me more tense and more anxious than any film I've seen this year, a feat made only all the more impressive by the fact that this is the first feature length film from director Ari Aster. It's not for everyone, but for those who have also enjoyed the more artistically inclined horror films of the last few years, Hereditary is going to be nothing short of a really great couple of hours.