The Secret Life of Pets

Illumination Entertainment's first film, Despicable Me, may have instantly marked them as a company to keep an eye on, but The Secret Life of Pets is just another film from them that indicates their early success may have been more due to luck than judgement. Gone is all the charm and originality that made Despicable Me what it is, instead replaced by a series of barely connected scenes that add up to nothing more than a significantly less effective version of Toy Story.

We follow Max, a dog living a cushy life in New York with his owner, as he tries to deal with the addition of a new dog, Duke. Naturally they don't get on, and it isn't long before the escalating battle between them results in both of them getting lost in the middle of New York city. Imagine if Buzz Lightyear had the same backstory in Toy Story as Jessie does in Toy Story 2. Now imagine they are both dogs instead. Congratulations, you've seen a better version of The Secret Life of Pets. In everything from basic premise to individual plot points – even down to the personalities of various side characters – The Secret Life of Pets owes a great debt to Toy Story and its sequels, cribbing liberally whenever it gets the chance. Where The Secret Life of Pets and Toy Story differ, however, is that one has a strong idea of the story it's trying to tell and the way its characters will change over the course of the film, whereas the other does nothing but repeatedly introduce new, wacky characters and set up silly situations in a futile attempt to keep the audience entertained.

It's a great example of why "and then" storytelling simply doesn't work. There is no sense of cause and effect between almost anything that happens resulting in a film that feels more like the ramblings of a child describing a particularly nonsensical dream than it does a coherent story. That all important structure is totally absent here, and without it what could have been a somewhat moving (albeit wholly unoriginal) story about a dog finding a new home fails to register on any level, never mind an emotional one. There is no end to the list of truly great animated films that understand how to tell a story, which makes The Secret Life of Pets' inability to do so all the more glaringly obvious. This was released in the same year Zootropolis came out so there is simply no reason why films aimed at kids can't be genuinely good, and insisting that we shouldn't expect as much from either animation as an art form or children as an audience is reductive to both.

There are a few aspects of The Secret Life of Pets I enjoyed – a recurring joke involving the dead comrade of an ex-pet militia made me laugh every time, and the highly stylised Manhattan skyline is nothing short of beautiful – but they are few and far between, and do nothing to make up for a film that clearly needed several pretty major rewrites somewhere in production. None of this stopped The Secret Life of Pets from making a metric shit ton of money of course – this is, after all, an animated film about talking animals that can be advertised using Minions – but I can't see anyone, not even the most pet-loving of people, walking away having genuinely enjoyed the film. And when it comes down to it, that's the only thing that really matters.

Crazy Rich Asians

Given that it's been 25 long years since The Joy Luck Club, the first and only other major Hollywood studio film with a Westernised Asian ensemble and a contemporary setting, anyone who cares about cultural representation was rooting for Crazy Rich Asians. So it's a relief that this high-gloss rom-com — based on the bestselling novel of a Singaporean author, directed by an Asian-American and featuring an all-Asian cast — is such a thoroughly captivating exploration of the rarefied question of whether true love can conquer head-spinning wealth.

Director Jon M. Chu, novelist Kevin Kwan, co-screenwriters Peter Chiarelli and Adele Lim, and the appealing cast make the story culturally specific yet eminently relatable. It's a rocky romance dripping in the kind of extravagance most of us can only fantasise about, like a $40 million wedding, for instance. And yet it's viewed from the anchoring perspective of a young woman who comes from nothing and remains true to herself throughout, played with grounded intelligence, backbone and emotional integrity by Fresh Off the Boat's Constance Wu in a lovely performance that gives the film real heart. What will likely sweeten the deal for many voyeuristic audiences is the movie's mouth-watering sampling of guilt-free luxury porn. It's a sybaritic celebration of high-end travel, food, architecture, decor and fashion, but it somehow eschews the vulgarity of conspicuous consumerism. There's flashy excess aplenty, but at the story's core, Trumpian ostentation takes a backseat to proud tradition, family honour, friendship and, most of all, love. The romantic stakes are misinterpreted as gold-digging aspiration only by judgmental snobs, whereas for the couple at the mercy of gossiping meddlers and suspicious relatives, dizzying wealth and all its attendant clubby insularity are an obstacle to be surmounted. The movie is less satirical in tone and as a result it has the necessary depth of feeling to make us root for the beleaguered lovebirds to beat the odds and make a go of it.

Wu plays Rachel Chu, a self-possessed NYU economics professor raised by a working-class single mother, played by Tan Kheng Hua, who emigrated from China when Rachel was a baby. Her dreamboat boyfriend of two years, Nick Young, by Henry Golding, invites her to be his date for the wedding of his best friend Colin, Chris Pang, in Singapore and then spend the summer traveling through Southeast Asia. That news pings through the international social-media grapevine of moneyed Asians at dizzying speed in an amusing montage that represents director Chu's effervescent style at its best. Nick has been reticent about his family's astronomical, old-money wealth, evasively describing their situation as "comfortable." Even when he and the wide-eyed Rachel are ushered into their first-class private suite on the flight from New York, Nick brushes it off as a perk of family business connections. But his desire to explore a relationship with Rachel on equal terms, unimpeded by his elevated social status, soon proves naive, especially once his hyper-vigilant mother Eleanor, Michelle Yeoh, gets wind of it. Even before any actual talk of wedding bells is broached, multiple forces are conspiring to separate Singapore's golden child from the perceived interloper.

The comedy is one part Meet the Parents, two parts Cinderella, with those familiar elements reinvigorated by the fresh setting of upscale Singapore, with its architectural splendours embracing both colonial history and imposing modernist forms. Cinematographer Vanja Cernjul shoots the locations in dynamic widescreen compositions full of bold colours that add to the sense of a 21st century fairy tale. The writers also expand the geographical canvas by taking in Nick's globe-trotting extended family and dropping the principals into exotic locations for the pre-nuptial partying of Colin and his bride-to-be. While that couple's fondness for Nick makes them instantly accepting of Rachel, that is generally not the case. But she has a few strategic allies on her side.

Chief among them is her hilariously unfiltered former New York college friend Peik Lin Goh, played by rapper Awkwafina, the scene-stealer of Ocean's 8, who effortlessly repeats that feat with her irresistible insouciance here. Having returned home to her wacky nouveau riche parents, played to the hilt as shamelessly broad caricatures by Ken Jeong and Koh Chieng Mun, Peik Lin sets Rachel straight on the true scope of Nick's family fortune. She then teams with Oliver (Nico Santos), the flamboyantly gay "poor-relation rainbow sheep" of the Young family, to give Rachel the necessary makeover to pass muster with Eleanor. Even more important is Rachel's first impression on Nick's doting grandmother, or Ah Ma in local parlance, played with beatific serenity and just the right touch of inscrutability by veteran Lisa Lu.

Rachel also gets insider support from Nick's favourite cousin Astrid, Gemma Chan, the essence of poise, beauty and sophistication, whose own difficult experience of marrying beneath her income bracket makes her sympathetic to the outsider's discomfort. While screenwriters Chiarelli and Lim generally have been successful at corralling Kwan's vast panoply of characters into a manageable group, Astrid's troubled marriage to Michael, Pierre Png, gets somewhat shortchanged as a subplot, even if it serves to show the fissures that wealth disparity can create in a relationship. Nevertheless, Chan is a radiant presence who lights up her every scene.

The filmmakers stir occasional bursts of raucous humour into the mix, primarily via Peik Lin's family or Bernard (Jimmy O. Yang), an obnoxious overgrown frat boy who takes charge of Colin's lavish bachelor weekend. But mostly, the comedy is breezy, smart and tethered to issues far more universal than the obscenely rich high-society milieu would suggest. Chu has put together a slick, highly entertaining package. Unsurprisingly for a director who cut his teeth on films including the Step Up sequels and Justin Bieber concert docs, Crazy Rich Asians is energised by infectious use of Brian Tyler's big, bouncy score and some terrific song choices. What makes it so genuinely uplifting, however, is the establishment of the central relationship as a union between partners determined to remain on equal footing, far more concerned with each other's mutual happiness than with all the wealth and luxury that stands between them.

Us

I don't think I'm overstating things when I say that Jordan Peele's Get Out ended up being a pretty big deal by any measure. It made just over $250 million worldwide on a budget of less than $5 million; it received the kind of critical acclaim most directors would kill for; it was nominated for four Academy Awards (including Best Picture and Best Director), winning Best Original Screenplay; and maybe most importantly, left the kind of immediate cultural impact that can't help but ensure its longevity as both a movie and an important part of pop culture. It is, in short, a great movie - which means that the only real question I had going into Peele's Us was simply this. How can it possibly live up to Get Out?

Sadly, the answer is that it doesn't, but the reason is a little more complicated than "it's just not as good". In many ways, Us is (somewhat appropriately) the mirror image of Get Out - very much still recognisable as a socially satirical horror film, but inverted in a few places to create something that feels radically different to its predecessor. The most obvious of these inversions is that Us is deliberately far less comedic than Get Out, instead focusing its energy on creating the kind of visceral, immediate scares that the more cerebral Get Out lacked - but maybe more important is the films approach to theme, swapping out laser like precision in favour of something less refined but significantly more complex, open ended and further reaching.

The plot itself, however, starts off fairly simple. We follow a fairly average American family of four (the Wilsons) as they holiday in Santa Cruz, which also happens to be where matriarch Adelaide suffered a traumatic experience as a child. That night, four mysterious figures appear at the end of the beach house's driveway, terrorising the family before revealing themselves to be terrifying doppelgängers.

The idea of doppelgängers is one that's been explored countless times in various genres of fiction, but importantly, their inclusion here isn't intended as a shocking twist - instead, it's where Us starts in earnest, kicking off an examination of class and privilege that drives the film throughout. If Get Out was Peele taking umbrage with suspiciously woke liberals, then Us is his rallying cry against capitalist society itself, highlighting the plight of the exploited and the wilful ignorance of those that benefit from that exploitation, all centred around the idea that "there but for the grace of God go I".

I enjoyed puzzling my way through Us, attempting to figure out exactly what Peele was trying to get at, but the themes aren't as well established or fully explored resulting in a film that can't help but feel underdeveloped and lacking much of the clarity and comprehensibility of Peele's debut. For much of the movie, that's not really too big a problem - Us is at its strongest early on, when its main focus seems to be on delivering scares with mere hints towards what it's building towards. It's only towards the end that Peele's ambition ultimately gets the better of him, resulting in a third act that does its best to provide a satisfying conclusion to the plot of the movie while also attempting to tie together all of Us' themes - neither of which it does particularly well.

A good chunk of this finale is delivered in the form of pure exposition from one character to another - worse, it's exposition that ends up over-explaining ultimately meaningless plot details (and in the process raising questions that simply didn't need to be raised) while still leaving the audience mostly in the dark when it comes to what it was all about. Add to that a late in the day "twist" that is so blindly obvious from the opening scene of the movie that by the time it was revealed I'd literally forgotten we weren't meant to know it yet.

A vague sense of dissatisfaction is never what you want to be feeling when you finish watching a film, yet that's exactly what Us left me with in spite of all its earlier strengths. With a better finale Us could've been a genuinely must-see film - instead it's frustratingly flawed, showing so much promise for a decent chunk of its running time thanks to Peele's direction, the subversive themes and a number of fantastic performances (Lupita Nyong'o is fantastic in her dual roles as both leading lady and main antagonist here) before concluding all that with something that just didn't work.

So no, I don't think Us lives up to the expectations set by Get Out. The phrase "difficult second album" can't help but come to mind - it's a less consistent, less certain experience, shaggier around the edges and lacking the kind of images and iconography that helped make Get Out so instantly iconic. But the ideas at play here prove that Peele is still one to watch. 

Mamma Mia! Here We Go Again

Mamma Mia! Here We Go Again came and went from the cinema without much notice from me. But, the night before my best friend's wedding last November, it felt fitting to watch it. Not just because she's a massive musical and ABBA fan! So, we popped open the champagne and laid out some tasty treats and buckled in for some carefree, light-hearted viewing before heading to bed early for our beauty sleep. So, did it help shape a wonderful last night of singlehood for my friend? No. No, it did not - for me at least! It was every bit as terrible as I expected it to be.

Now, before I begin slating this movie, I feel it’s important to stress that I can at least understand why people may like this film even if I hated it myself. Both Mamma Mia and Mamma Mia! Here We Go Again are films that, if you’re of a certain demographic or disposition, will unfailingly fill you with joy. They’re a spectacle, they pump you full of rainbows and optimism and they are exceedingly camp, which some people love. To add to this, whilst I despise seeing my childhood James Bond prancing around a Greek island sounding as if he is singing in a back alley karaoke bar, I do find some amusement and respect in the fact he, Colin Firth and Stellan Skarsgard all agreed to partake - and, more to the point, with such gusto. Credit where credit is due. And it was also nice to see Lily James getting a leading role in a big film - she deserves it. Having gone strength to strength in films such as Baby Driver, The Darkest Hour and The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society I’m glad to see her career progressing even further – she is fantastic.

However, these factors are not enough to save this disaster piece. Mamma Mia! Here We Go Again picks up five years on from the original film and Sophie, Amanda Seyfried, is planning the grand opening of the ‘Hotel Bella Donna’ in memory of her mother. As she does this, nearly thirty years earlier, Donna, Lily James/Meryl Streep, goes on a summer trip which changes her life forever, introducing her to three men who each win her heart on the beautiful Greek island of Kalokairi.

Firstly, the film felt totally unnecessary. Whilst it was vaguely interesting to see Donna’s backstory, it wasn’t anything we didn’t know beforehand. Essentially, that is exactly what the first film explored, just in fewer scenes. More to the point, because Mamma Mia was written as a one-off show (and then adapted into a film) all the best ABBA songs were used already meaning Here We Go Again was left with the ABBA back catalogue that no-one really cares with the exception of super-fans, or, repeated songs that we have already heard in the first film. As a result, the little interest I had in the film quickly waned – especially, given its somewhat indulgent (just short of) two hour runtime.

Secondly, the film was far too long and couldn’t make its mind up as to what it wanted to be. The original Mamma Mia at least knew what it was - sycophantically cheesy and camp - and was unapologetic about it. Here We Go Again, however, is both half-heartedly happy and sad. Some scenes, like the garish, indulgent and skin-crawlingly cheesy rendition of ‘Waterloo’ were reminiscent of the first film’s optimism. A large chunk of the rest of the film was miserable and brooding though – something I don’t consider to be very Mamma Mia-esque. Whether it’s Sophie fretting about the opening of the hotel (essentially, all she does), Sam lamenting his dead wife or young Donna complaining about her man struggles despite having three handsome men pining after her, the overwhelming optimism found in the first is certainly diluted.

Finally, Cher’s cameo has to be mentioned. Whilst I’m sure there are people out there who loved this, it wasn’t for me. Her appearance was completely pointless and added nothing to the movie. After the obvious escalation to her token number, it was utterly underwhelming. Sorry, Cher.

Unfortunately, Mamma Mia: Here We Go Again is a totally unnecessary sequel that I would not recommend seeing unless you’re a die-hard ABBA fan or enjoy overbearing cheesiness. Whilst, admittedly, I’m a fan of the first, I do think Here We Go Again has genuine flaws which cannot be overlooked – mainly, the ropey catalogue of lesser-known ABBA songs and mundane plot. But, as always, see it for yourself – you may enjoy it!

Ant-Man and the Wasp

Usually, any time that a new Marvel film is being released I get unashamedly excited like a small puppy but as mentioned in my recent Ant-Man review I missed the boat on the whole Ant-Man movement. But with the first film in this series being a surprise hit (with me at least) I was keen to view the follow up pretty shortly after. Here's what I thought. 

I just wasn’t feeling it. How could I be? After Thor: Ragnarok, the cultural phenomenon and record-breaking Black Panther, the heart-breaking Infinity War and the hilarious first instalment of Ant-Man, it didn’t stand a chance. I went in with an open mind and middle to high expectations hoping it would provide the palette cleanse so many reviewers before had claimed it would.

Unfortunately, it didn’t. Ant-Man and the Wasp was no palette cleanser - it was boring and forgettable with a few exceptions which made me exhale slightly harder than usual. I would only rewatch this film if, after seeing Endgame in May, I want to find hidden Marvel easter eggs or references. It's basically an in between film that gets you from one strong Avenger movie to another.

The film begins two years after the events of Captain America: Civil War and during the same time that Infinity War’s storyline occurs. Scott Lang, played once again by Paul Rudd, finds himself bored under house-arrest after helping ‘Cap’, coming up with imaginative ways to entertain his daughter. So, when Hope Van Dyne, Evangeline Lily, and Hank Pym, Michael Douglas, come knocking at his door seeking help to rescue Hope’s mother, Michelle Pfeiffer, who is presumed dead in the Quantum Realm, he can’t resist.

Whilst the plot may sound enjoyable, it’s apparent from the outset that this won’t have the scale, importance or depth that Infinity War had. And that’s the key problem - Marvel has shot itself in the foot by escalating the impressiveness of its films. After the jaw-dropping end to Infinity War which left me speechless, suddenly seeing Scott Lang in a dressing gown trying to make too many jokes felt very out of place and poorly timed. This isn’t helped by the fact the film feels stale too. A lot of the comedy is the same - Luis’s rambling monologues, for example. Whilst Michael Peña is easily the most entertaining character of the film some original humour would have been welcomed rather than variations on the previous films’. On top of this, I couldn’t help disliking Evangeline Lily and Michael Douglas throughout. I'm not against liking the 'bad guy' or feeling conflicted about the 'good guy' but there was something about the pair that didn't sit right in this second film. It's as if I suddenly recognised that the characters had always been under-developed and thoroughly dull. In a film which prides itself on light-hearted comedy and relatable characters, both Lily and Douglas are too cold and blunt - not once while they’re on screen did they make me laugh. Admittedly, Lily kicks ass throughout and it’s exciting to see her adopt the mantle of The Wasp, but their dialogue really brings them down and an actor as prestigious as Douglas felt wasted.

To add to this, the villains were awful. Ghost had some depth but ultimately, was forgettable. We are given a brief insight into her past which aims to make us feel sorry for her - but then, in the same breath, she threatens to kidnap a child which drains any sympathy I may have had for her. Walton Goggins’ southern black-market arms dealer is no better either and acts more as a pawn to further the story than an actual character. This is only worsened when you compare them to other Marvel villains like Thanos, Loki, Ronan and the Winter Soldier (Bucky) to name a few.

That being said, Ant-Man and The Wasp isn’t all bad. For me, the redeeming quality of this film, like in the first, is how the visuals are utilised to cleverly distort the size of objects and people. In the first film, who could forget the iconic Thomas the Tank Engine scene? Well, whilst there was no stand-out scene like that in the sequel, it was amusing to see a gigantic Hello Kitty Pez dispenser hurled out a car as well as an assortment of enlarged functioning Hot Wheels cars which are later used in a surprisingly enjoyable car chase set piece.

Ultimately though, Ant-Man and The Wasp is a minor disappointment. Arguably, this is through no fault of its own – after all, how can you easily follow a film like Infinity War, the culmination of ten years work? That being said, the repetitive, unoriginal humour, boring villains and unambitious storyline didn’t help. I also struggled to see the relevance it had to the overarching MCU storyline other than explaining where Ant-Man was during Infinity War and what occurs in the first credit scene. I'm hoping Endgame has the answers.

Murder on the Orient Express

The world might not have been waiting with bated breath for a new Poirot film, but I'd be lying if I said that the first trailer for Kenneth Branagh's Murder on the Orient Express didn't pique my interest. Bright neon writing, a lengthy tracking shot from a first-person perspective before the reveal of the greatest moustache you've ever seen - Murder on the Orient Express looked radically different from what I expected, which when combined with a really impressive ensemble cast made it something I was actually excited to see.

And for good reason, it turns out. While hardly a must-see movie or the genre revitalisation I had hoped for, Murder on the Orient Express is a mostly well-made and very watchable detective yarn, the kind that you don't often see anymore. You know the story - there's been a murder on the Orient Express, and it's up to Hercule Poirot to solve the mystery. 

Before that though, we get a nice introductory scene in Jerusalem that sees Poirot solving a more minor crime, giving us plenty of time to get accustomed to both his methods and his personality. I'm no Poirot connoisseur (in fact, my knowledge of the character starts and ends at him being smart and mustachioed), but I like Branagh in the role - there is a warmth and theatricality to him that stop his eccentricities or somewhat impersonal manner from painting him as alien or distant, without robbing him of any of his intelligence. Equally impressive are the supporting cast, at least when they're given the chance to be. It was always going to be difficult to balance the needs of the story with a cast this large in a film that's less than two hours long, and while Murder on the Orient Express doesn't always pull that balancing act off, most of these performances are strong enough to leave an impression regardless. Interestingly, it's the newer actors that end up getting the most screen-time rather than the veterans - Daisy Ridley and Josh Gad are arguably the most prominent of the supporting characters, and they're both able to hold their own against the more established cast surrounding them.

The core story may be an interesting one, but writer Michael Green can hardly be given credit for it, and ultimately Branagh's execution of that story is rarely more or less than just serviceable - which isn't to say that it's bad merely that it doesn't do anything to elevate the material beyond what it already offers. Ultimately, even with its star-studded cast, relatively high budget and modern film-making techniques, you've seen this film a dozen times before, whether that be through a previous adaptation of Murder on the Orient Express or even just in the way it so closely resembles almost any other detective story.

Perfectly watchable and considering that it's a film consisting of little more than conversations, it kept me entertained and engaged for most of its running time.

Ant-Man

Big things come in small packages. A cheesy line, but it certainly describes Marvel’s Ant-Man. We’ve known Ant-Man was on the horizon for perhaps as long as we’ve known of the Iron Man films, and yet it took until 2015 for the incredible shrinking Ant-Man to be released (and a further four years for me to ACTUALLY see the film). I’d be lying if I said that Ant-Man’s productions woes, be it delayed filming windows to multiple directors swapping in and out, had me worried about the quality of the film because frankly I didn't care... about the film, the plot or the announced cast. But, for some reason, I found myself sat on the couch ready to watch Ant-Man. So - could something that’s languished in development hell and been passed through many hands come out on the other side successful? The short answer is yes. Of course it did! It's Marvel for god-sake. For the most part Ant-Man succeeds in being funny, heartfelt, action packed and most importantly entertaining.

As Marvel has done in movies past Ant-Man is a super hero film wrapped in the trappings of another genre. The genre of choice this time is a heist film. We’re introduced to Scott Lang, played by Paul Rudd, a recently released thief, who’s chosen by enigmatic Dr. Hank Pym (Michael Douglas) and his appropriately prickly daughter Hope Van Dyne (Evangeline Lilly) to steal Pym’s former business partner and protégé’s shrinking suit and formula before it can be used for evil. Sounds pretty par for the course, because it ultimately is. Marvel has never really broken new ground when it comes to its plotting, but it’s never needed to. We’re given familiar story elements with a fresh coat of paint, and what a coat of paint it is. Like Marvel’s previous films this movie is packed with wit. It’s a very funny film. At times the humour undercuts the serious elements, or rather the serious elements undercut the humour. It’s difficult to say. The audience is told very early on not to take the film and its happenings too seriously and everything is done with a wink and a nudge. Whenever the film tries to get weighty and bring us a serious dramatic beat we’re left waiting impatiently for the next one-liner. Still, those moments are few and far between and the film is paced well enough that I was never bored.

Ant-Man has a curious power. The Ant-Man suit, powered by Pym Particles, allows the user to shrink down to the size of an Ant. We’ve never seen anything like this from the likes of a super hero movie which is refreshing mid-Avengers campaign. The fight scenes are exciting to watch as Ant-Man switches between big and small so effortlessly that you wonder if anyone could stand a chance against such a nimble and difficult to strike target. Ant-Man even gets the opportunity to fight an Avenger in this film which was a prelude to his appearance in Captain America: Civil War (which I had seen already). Ultimately Ant-Man is just another superhero movie but the way it’s presented is such a breath of fresh air that I decided to watch the movie's sequel Ant-Man and the Wasp shortly after this film finished.

We’ve come to expect quality with Marvel and Ant-Man is right in their sweet spot of humour, action and sympathetic characters. It’s not the best film Marvel has produced, but it’s still a film I am glad not to have missed, I just wish I had realised this sooner and seen it on the big screen.