Reviews

Adam McKay is in the midst of a career reinvigoration. Will Ferrell couldn't be further from the deadly serious satire of his newest effort Vice, a biopic charting the rise of Dick Cheney, attempting to account for the stupendous amount of power he managed to secure through shrewd. cloak and dagger bureaucratic tactics. To play the portly and grunting Cheney, McKay has enlisted Christian Bale, who once again proves his deftness at changing his body for a role, here sporting a formidable gut. Bale is occasionally arresting as Cheney, his reserved head sways and deep throaty voice exuding a subtle magnetism that spearheads the tale, especially in a memorable fourth wall breaking scene towards the close of the film wherein he assures the audience of his moral integrity. The other main players are competent, as you'd expect from Oscar bait fare of this nature, but barely approach the degree of nuance Bale commands- Amy Adams as Lynne Cheney though proficient in her portrayal can feel slightly one note (which is more a reflection of a script which doesn't afford her very complex characterisation. Steve Carell and Sam Rockwell as Donald Rumsfeld and George W Bush, while entertaining and occasionally amusing, see the potential of great character actors somewhat squandered in favour of caricature. This brings us to the main issue with Vice - a clumsy sense of brio with regards to tone and structure. McKay's feature is almost never boring, but no one would accuse it of subtlety or discipline, especially in comparison to McKay's far superior preceding effort The Big Short. Vice shares that film's kinetic, non-sequitur laden editing style, but is far less complimentary with the narrative at the film's core in Vice's case. The Big Short boasted an immediacy that Vice's decade spanning story can't hope to recreate, and by consequence, the insertion of absurdist humour and archival footage can compromise the actual narrative and render the film more than a little indulgent. It also seems slightly hypocritical; McKay's enthusiastic and hyperactive style is at odds with Vice's "cradle to grave" seemingly conventional biopic structure. While McKay swinging for the fences is occasionally chuckle inducing (the use of narrator in the film is inspired even if it feels laboured at times, and a scene in which the Cheneys recite Shakespearean soliloquys is deserving of recognition) it ultimately leaves Vice feeling far more scattershot and less nourishing as a narrative. Even so, Bale's entertaining performance and McKay's sardonic and gleefully nihilistic energy behind the camera ensures Vice is at the very least constantly diverting and unpredictable.

Gaspar Noe is an infamous filmic provocateur, who has inspired the kind of aggressive derision and accordant lofty praise that would be the envy of most other directors. With Climax, he is as dynamic, acerbic and occasionally pretentious as ever, resulting in a film that could be made by no one else, and an experience that is utterly harrowing and genuinely original. His ensemble is uniformly believable, giving the scenes of utter chaos a sense of gruelling horror the likes of which I haven't quite experienced in any other film. The soundtrack is booming, the cinematography dizzying, the narrative utterly insane and brazen... an absolute must see, albeit not for the faint of heart.

I wasn't looking forward to this film particularly. The whole "Groundhog Day" gimmick seems to have already exhausted most of its potential, and the premise of this "horror Groundhog Day" was hardly inspiring, especially considering Blumhouse's growing credibility as a genuine producer of great horror after Get Out and Split storming the box office. This is why I was surprised to have enjoyed

Happy Death Day for a good while... until it totally falls on its face. Fresh face Jessica Rothe is solid, managing to be charismatic and repellent in equal measure. The satire of college life, while in unmistakably broad, is funny for a good while, as are the repeated vignettes that greet Tree (10 points to Hollywood for that name) along her torturous cyclical "death day." It's all very fast and entertaining, with a handful of genuinely funny moments (mostly due to game performances from an ensemble clearly having good fun). Even the scares are decently done, with ample tension and genuinely unpredictable moments.

The problem is when the movie tries to hit you with its message. There are early signs the movie is dumbing it down (a few times extraneous flashbacks are employed to remind the audience of plot details they may have forgotten) and the bloodless, profanity-less (yes, "fricken" is uttered) PG-13 pander is not ideal. I understand the value of the under 17s in boosting the box office for a film like this, but the audience shouldn't so obviously be aware that a certain rating is trying to be achieved. Once the third act character arc hits its emotional peak, where Tree inevitably sees the error of her ways, the screenplay goes from fun and occasionally witty to lowest common denominator soap opera, with lines so heavy handed, complemented by a ridiculously oversentimental score punctuating each beat, that you can't help but feel the studio thinks you're stupid. A few admittedly implausible but nonetheless engaging twists towards the end help things a bit, but overall Happy Death Day while entertaining is severely undone by its willingness to dumb everything down.

Everyone loved Get Out, Blumhouse, you don't need to assume your audience is stupid to enjoy a film!

The new feature from the Safdie Brothers, Good Time, is utterly incontrovertible proof of Robert Pattinson's talent. A skilled young actor who broke out young, Pattinson, like his equally skilled former co-star Kristen Stewart, has been plagued by his "Twilight" image, and accordingly (and unjustly) derided because of his involvement. The truth is that both Pattinson and Stewart are audacious and feverishly talented young actors, and Good Time will convince all who see it that Robert Pattinson is a fearless and versatile actor.

As an ashen-faced, stubble-laden, nervy-eyed criminal thrust into a constantly escalating trip into the recesses of city nightlife, where stakes are always high, Pattinson relishes in the opportunity to inhabit this character and fully realise all his traits. His pretty-boy-image disappears into an expertly assembled composite of agitated mannerisms and a thick Bronx-like brogue.

The film excels in its visuals. The Safdies adore neon light, which leads to many memorable neon-drenched sequences, such as an extended sequence in a haunted-house theme park that reels in the tension. Much of the film takes place at night, allowing for some atmospheric, neo-noir vibes to come to the fore. What also must be credited is the unrelenting pace of the film, living up to its cheeky title through constantly escalating stakes, a thunderously exciting electronic score and a plot that keeps throwing delightfully absurd and insane twists to keep you constantly engaged. Good Time been likened a lot to Dog Day Afternoon, Sidney Lumet's taut and incredible bank-heist-gone-wrong film, and it's a comparison that is apt, if a bit flattering; the Safdies come close to matching that film's inspired lunacy and delirious tension, through a decidedly more modern aesthetic.

The Safdies directorial style is unique, and I'll be honest it at times got on my nerves. I noticed early on that almost every shot is a close up, often hand-held, which can feel claustrophobic, but also just irritating. That being said, I grew used to the style, and eventually understood its purpose, in buttressing the manic instability of its protagonist, and his morally questionable odyssey. Even so, the style was not always seamless with the narrative. Make sure you don't sit too close to the screen when you watch this film.

Good Time is an exciting, pulsating, modernised noir/New Hollywood thriller that deserves a lot of praise for its terrific suspense and Pattinson's bravura turn.

Bong Joon Ho is a masterful director. Memories of Murder is a stunningly evocative police procedural. The Host is a terrifically bombastic monster movie. Snowpiercer is a bracingly exciting and insightful sci fi film. So, going into Okja, I had high expectations. What's most strange about the film is it managed to surpass all expectations I had, in alternately brilliant, and utterly misguided, ways. It's one of the best and worst films of the year, all at the same time, and this insanely mixed reaction I had to the film is probably due to the fact that it is so fearlessly original and inventive, for better or worse.

The good? Well, the concept, a near future where "super pigs" are discovered, and a grand PR scheme to publicise this new potential meat superseller through farmers across the world and a "Super Pig" contest, is undeniably ingenious and deliriously wacky. The central relationship (the super pig Okja and pint-sized owner Mija) is emotionally resonant and makes for so many delightful moments. There is an extended sequence through (and under) the streets of Seoul that is for my money the most exhilarating and spectacular chase/action sequence in recent memory, all the while doubling as an incisive political statement. But when the film goes to America, all the subtlety is thrown away. Tilda Swinton is engaging in small doses, but her character is so obscenely caricaturish that you ultimately care nothing for her. And Jake Gyllenhaal.... wow. I held this actor in such high regard for his chameleonic actor sensibility, in countless films delivering extraordinary and SUBTLE performances, and in Okja he does the unthinkable: he is genuinely, properly, scene-chewingly terrible. Mustachioed, squeaky-voiced and not at all funny, he is pure dead air whenever he is on screen. What Bong-Joon Ho was thinking with this character I don't know. The most glaring flaw with the film is the way in which it tonally backflips as soon as it heads to America. Gone are the enjoyable flights of fancy of Seoul, and the madcap fun, and in come the heavy handed politicising and emotional manipulation. Bong-Joon Ho abandons his spellbinding narrative in order to sermonise to his audience about the ills of capitalist America (through beating us over the head with the cruelty of the food industry). The presence of the Paul Dano-led Animal Liberation Front as side- characters is equally perplexing. One second we're meant to root for them, the next we're meant to laugh at their naivety, and the next we're to condemn them, before we suddenly love them. Perhaps Bong Joon Ho is trying to make some assertion about the innate corruptibility of everyone, that there is no winner in these political debates, and we can only rely on the warmth of a girl and her superpig to give us some emotional solace. Well, to be frank, that's not profound, it's a cinematic cop out. By the end of the film, I felt depressed, because of the visceral emotional blackmail I was treated to by Bong Joon-Ho, and because a masterpiece turned into something that was utterly incoherent. All this being said, Okja is absolutely worth seeing, just for how incredibly strange and sporadically magnificent it is.

While I am against the new tide of online streaming, I credit Netflix for the sheer courage to fund 50 million dollars into a film so wildly uncommercial. I was lucky enough to see the film on a big screen at the Sydney Film Festival, and even though it is a Netflix film, I couldn't help feeling it belonged in a cinema. Still, a film such as Okja, which fiercely blends comedy, drama, environmental tub-thumping, bizarre slapstick, action, not to mention the fact that it is so Korean in tone, style and lead actors, and much of the settings, despite the presence of American actors.

I caught the Osiris Child at a preview screening in Sydney, with director Shane Abbess and cast members Isabel Lucas, Kellan Lutz and Luke Ford all present to take questions after the film. I knew nothing about the film except that it was a low budget Australian science fiction film. I also knew Kellan Lutz was starring, and all I knew him from was the totally woeful (and totally hilarious) Legend of Hercules. And I was happy to find that The Osiris Child is a great little sci fi flick.

What's really quite inspirational about the film is how ambitious it is. Normally low budget sci fi fare is one of three things - it is overly earnest but can't stand on its own two feet due to obviously poor production values that suspend all belief (Skyline), it embraces its poor production values by making a tongue-in-cheek mockery of it all (everything by The Asylum) or it utilises its low budget by making a film of ideas rather than spectacle (The Man from Earth, Coherence or Primer.) This is why The Osiris Child is so impressive. It's not trying to be something small, it's reaching for the skies. The plot is just as sprawling as anything from Star Wars or Star Trek, as are the large scale action set pieces. And, god knows how, but Shane Abbess has made something that feels almost as expensive and impressively mounted as a 150 million dollar studio space opera. There's meticulous production design and detail that goes a long way in convincing you of the tactility of this future world. There's great costuming and location work, as well as menacing practical effects. There's even terrific VFX, made most apparent in a breathtaking dogfight sequence that is as thrilling and heart racing as anything in a major Hollywood production. Hollywood, look this way, Shane Abbess can make your insane blockbusters on a tiny budget and have them look and feel every bit as spectacular as you want.

Aside from the sound and fury of the piece, the story is pretty engaging and multilayered, packed into a mightily efficient sub 100 minute run time that feels like 2 hours + (that's a good thing). It's also told in non linear "chapter" format, which sometimes feels arbitrary, but adds a lot of narrative surprise at times, especially for Lutz's character. Which brings me to Lutz - I've seldom experienced a greater 360 in terms of my perception of an actor's ability. After witnessing the atrocity of The Legend of Hercules, and Lutz's equally atrocious attempt at a British accent, I had written this muscular man off as a Taylor Lautner-style, inept-at-acting hunk. I was evidently wrong - Lutz is really terrific in this movie in a difficult role. He balances toughness and vulnerability well and for me was the most impressive performance. His back story was the least conventional and consequently the most compelling. Daniel macPherson, probably the protagonist if you'd have to assign that label to someone, was solid, if unremarkable: that being said, his character was the most vanilla out of all. Isabel Lucas and Luke Ford have great fun as a rambunctious redneck couple, as does Temeura Morrison as a vicious warden.

It's a bit disappointing that Abbess felt the need to Americanise the entire film, much like the similarly Australian (and balls-out incredible) Predestination. Lutz is the only American actor, and only Morrison keeps his native (Kiwi) accent. It feels unnecessary that this world has to be American, much like how Ancient Rome and Greece always seem to be British, it's a weird convention of science fiction that left me a bit cold. This is a nitpick really, though; there's rarely a moment where root accents are perceivable, even from pint sized Teegan Croft. But this sadly is not the only pitfall the flick faces. A big issue is overwrought narration, which rung alarm bells at the start of the film. Thankfully it's not consistent across the film's run time, but most of the time it happens, it's hackneyed and laboured, and feels like dumbing down, especially at the end of the film. In addition, the film feels the need to occasionally go really sappy. Some moments are genuinely emotional because they're subtle, but there are instances when Abbess can't resist but lay on the treacle, mostly concerning the relationship between MacPherson and Croft, and it's frustratingly clichéd and sentimental.

Even with a few missteps, The Osiris Child is an ingenious, thrill-packed blast of a science fiction film that thrillingly forgoes its low budget to deliver a space opera that's just as thrilling, and perhaps a bit more original, than the glut of far more expensive Hollywood fare.

I caught this movie at a preview screening, not knowing much at all, and was extremely impressed. Berlin Syndrome is a superbly taut thriller that takes a well worn scenario and thrillingly reinvents it.

Perhaps in the hands of someone else, this would've been a disposable B movie, or perhaps even something as over the top as I Spit on Your Grave, but Shortland ensures the focus of the film is on character. Captive and captor are never, ever two dimensional. Both Teresa Palmer and Max Reimelt deliver powerful and stunningly complex performances. What separates the film from other kidnap thrillers is how sympathetic and normal Andi, the captor, is. He's charming, erudite and curiously rational, only harming his captive in circumstances where she tries to escape. He's a hopeless romantic, who resorts to crime for fear of a spark shared between two people dissipating. Reimelt channels all these emotions with admirable subtlety.

Palmer rarely gets to use her native accent in films, having appeared recently in Hacksaw Ridge, Lights Out and Warm Bodies. With brown hair, what appears to be no make up and a mild mannered fragility, she's totally affecting in the role, by far the most impressive I've seen her. What's especially impressive in the film is its distinctive style. Minimalist score, gorgeous editing and cinematography, and great use of the location of Berlin all point towards a director who is wonderfully assured in the mood and tone of the story she wants to tell, and it works terrifically to engross you in the story. Equally, Shortland proves to be a real master of tension - my screening was audibly gasping multiple times throughout the film.

The elements that work in the film are so terrific that it's a shame narrative problems begin to occur around the 2nd act. Moments that don't ring true for Palmer's character, and logical inconsistencies (particularly towards the very end) took me out of the story when previously I'd been unwaveringly engrossed. It's somewhat inevitable that the audience often scrutinises the actions of captives in films, but there are moments that are truly frustrating.

Even so, Berlin Syndrome is a confident work, an unbearably tense and stylish thriller with a terrific art-house aesthetic and two extremely compelling characters (matched of course by terrific performances.) It reaffirmed my faith that Australian cinema is alive and well (even if the setting is Berlin).

The construction of cinematic universes seems to be the new fad of commercial Hollywood, ever since the Marvel train came along with the original Iron Man and proceeded to churn out hit after universe-expanding hit. Now, we have a "Monsters" universe, with Kong back just a decade after Peter Jacksons (superior) rendition of the character to tie into the universe of the lacklustre Godzilla film of 2014.

Fortunately Kong: Skull Island manages to feel like its own movie. What separates this new addition to the Kong mythos from all other films of its ilk is its distinctive visual aesthetic, an aesthetic I can only assume is a gargantuan love letter to Apocalypse Now. Vittorio Storaro's iconic cinematography from Coppola's classic has been reinvented in spades with state of the art CGI effects. Every two minutes or so we are treated to a breathtaking shot - mist and fog are thrillingly utilised, as well as a night scene eerily similar to the Do Long Bridge sequence of Apocalypse Now. While this is perhaps relying too much on a far, FAR, better film, it was refreshing to know that at least from a visual standpoint there were genuine artistic influences that could be discerned, the sense that the filmmaker wanted to put a new spin on the monster formula.

The important thing to note is Kong and his wide array of monster peers deliver the goods. All of the action sequences are fluidly filmed, thrillingly executed, with breathtaking CGI and the help of such atmospheric cinematography as I detailed above. The monsters have real menace and bite, and they're imposing in all the right ways. Through what seems to be on location shooting, you also get a nice sense of Skull Island as a landscape, its harsh and alien nature. When the monsters attack it's always a blast.

Unfortunately when they don't attack, we have to rely on the characters, and there isn't much to rely on. Lazy characterisation and archetypal "there purely to be killed" characters are abound, and several great actors - Tom Hiddleston, Brie Larson, Shea Whigham, John Goodman, Jason Mitchell, Toby Kebbell - are really shortchanged for genuine arcs and motivations. Luckily the sheer talent and likability of these actors makes up for a great deal, and when copious eye candy and monster throwdowns occur, it didn't bother me too much. Only John C Reilly and Samuel L Jackson truly stand out, and it's because their characters have genuine development and intrigue.

The soundtrack felt a tad on the nose, with popular 70s tunes, including CCR and Bowie, popping in and out for little reason other than to hamfistedly evoke an era in the broadest possible way. What cannot be faulted however is the film's pacing - there is never a dull moment, with the action and tension kept admirably flowing for a tight sub 2 hour run time ( a far cry from Peter Jackson's 3 hour epic ) In all I had a fun time with Kong. It's likely to leave my memory pretty soon, but that being said it delivers in spades on what anyone would savour in a crazy big budget monster movie spectacle as this, and even with poor characterisation, its visual appeal and effects make it worthy of recommendation.

Few anticipated the mammoth success of Deadpool last year. With a fraction of the typical budget for superhero fare, an audience-prohibiting R-rating (presumably box-office poison), and the lack of a Summer release date, it had none of the hallmarks of reliably profitable cinema. And yet, Deadpool hit a nerve. Positive reviews, gargantuan box office takings, and the collective adoration of most who saw it. It seemed that people didn't want their violence sanitised, and their action films humourless - who'da thunk it?

As with all unexpected hits, Hollywood learns from its mistakes and dutifully attempts to emulate the success of these breakout box office anomalies. After Star Wars destroyed the box office, countless ripoffs emerged, and similar things occurred after The Matrix, Jaws, Indiana Jones, American Pie, Paranormal Activity (blegh) and the list goes on. In the case of Deadpool this is a very good thing - Hollywood seems to be putting far more faith in producing big budget films with big R ratings.

Logan is the first to follow Deadpool's wake, and like its predecessor, it wears its R rating like a badge of honour. The curiously bloodless stabbings of Wolverine in his previous PG 13 outings are out - now we are treated to spectacularly gory Adamantium-fuelled fight scenes that are utterly thrilling and cathartic. Importantly, the violence isn't just cheap thrills - it actually serves to contribute a real sense of stakes to the plot, making you really feel and understand the mortality of these mutants, that violence is ugly, brutal and most importantly painful. We are also treated to profanity, which once again is not exploited, merely a reflection of Logan's age and weariness, as he approaches the latter stages of life. Aside from some uncharacteristic swearing from Professor Xavier (which felt gratuitous) and a scene with totally arbitrary bare breasts, Logan's R rating is effectively utilised for the service of its story, which is far darker, meaner and more mature than other X Men related films.

An aspect that really worked well was the inclusion of Laura, a girl with formidable powers that prompts Logan to seek heroic redemption and rediscover his sense of purpose (albeit rockily.) Steely, tough and mostly mute, Laura is the antithesis of a cute movie kid - she takes no prisoners, and leaves no throat unstabbed, a terrifically entertaining character. As such, her uneasy union with Logan is believable and unexpectedly emotional, grounding the film in pathos usually absent from superhero movies. Also adding emotional resonance is Patrick Stewart, in fine, gracious and ever so fragile form as Charles Xavier, who is reduced to a consuming neurological disease stemming from his telekinesis - he has easy chemistry with Jackman, complemented by the years of baggage contributed by almost 2 decades of X Men films. Finally to Hugh Jackman himself - he is a stellar vessel, playing Logan as he has never done before, with vulnerability, brusqueness and a surly resolve, he carries the movie amply with a layered, sophisticated performance that is worthy of end of year awards consideration (unlikely as that may be.)

In the first act villainous characters are effective, because they appear only as hired guns led by a menacing Boyd Holbrook. This simplicity feels appropriate for James Mangold's pared back, realistic vision of the X Men-populated world, a factor achieved through the grounded nature of characters, and very cleverly through the existence of X Men comics, almost implying that the films that preceded are an airbrushed, more idyllic, fictionalised version of the truth of the X Men. Critics have called the film like a Western, considering its setting, its brutality, and a particular scene that directly references Shane (1953). On these bases, the film proceeds with gusto, yet falters when far more melodramatic, far-reaching elements to the films antagonists are introduced. As followed through by a wasted Richard E Grant, the villains, and their back story, while interesting, feels incongruous with the gritty, realistic main narrative and its effectively more concentrated scope. It also adds more fat to the already bulging story, which feels bloated and not entirely coherent, at a slightly overlong 2 hrs 17 minutes.

Furthermore, a sequence involving a family who invites Logan, Laura and Xavier to dinner after they assisted them on the highway, and its culmination was profoundly irritating - as a result of the morally iffy actions of Xavier in particular it is very difficult to sympathise with him immediately after, despite the fact that the film seems to want you to do so. Nonetheless, the film builds towards a satisfying climax that feels like a fitting end to Logan's journey, that is unless Jackman decides to return once more.

In all James Mangold's film is bold, brash, gloriously mean and feverishly exciting ride that is certainly the most audacious and enjoyable superhero film I've seen in quite some time, perhaps since The Dark Knight or Watchmen, and few who see it will be disappointed. Logan delivers what you'd expect from a rollicking action flick starring Wolverine, but what you might not expect is an equally satisfying drama of characters and relationships, which explores age, regret, duty and redemption in powerful fashion.

Shyamalan's inconsistencies as a director are decidedly ignominious. He spellbound us with The Sixth Sense, but soon after befuddled with lady in the Water, provoked derisive jeers with The Happening, and merely bored us with The Last Airbender and After Earth. The pared back horror of The Visit signalled a renaissance for the auteur, with its genuinely frightening aesthetic, and even a decent Shyamalan twist! But, armed with what seems to be a more significant budget, and far more loopy creative ambition, Split is Shyamalan's true calling card to what hopefully is a far more fortuitous run of features. Using the disorder of DID, and a true story (!), to create its bonkers premise, McAvoy plays Kevin, a man who possesses 23 distinct personalities, some of which are male and some of which are female, some of which are young, and some of which are old, some of which are homosexual and some of which are heterosexual, some of which have OCD or require insulin for diabetes, and some of which are really rather volatile and dangerous. The catch? The 24th is about to arrive, with all hell set to break loose. If this sounds like an actor's dream job, you're right. With the opportunity to flex his acting muscles to the nth degree, all-accent-changing, mannerism-altering McAvoy rises to the challenge with a performance of breathtaking versatility. The film around him is never quite as reliable as this towering performance, however. The plot functions between an incredibly tense kidnapping/hostage situation and a doctor who purports to be an expert of DID. While eventually serving a narrative purpose, in the early scenes, Shyamalan's switching to this doctor's narrative grinds the movie to something of a halt, leaving you longing for the far more interesting story to develop and ultimately resolve. That being said, the movie never bores for a second, thanks to Shyamalan's distinctive style and an ominous score, as well as Anya Taylor Joy, so impressive in The Witch, who proves she isn't a one trick pony. In addition, like THe Visit, Split is, unexpectedly, quite funny, in a way that never sacrifices tension, but rather serves to enhance it by catching you off guard with scares when you're recovering from a bizarre joke - it's a terrific tactic that serves the film well. Most worthy of recommendation is the film's third act, which evolves into something genuinely terrifying and ferociously tense, as twist upon twist piles up to create a thrilling sense of chaos and dread. Less convincing are Shyamalan's repeated attempts at motifs of beasts and animals, which feel shoehorned in and unnecessary. Despite al this, Split is a worthy work from Shyamalan that will deliver a jolt of high octane thrills to your nerves, one which will certainly be needed in the doldrums of the January dumping ground of films.

The Founder is another tale of the American Dream. It's the kind of tale we've seen a million times before. American man wants to become successful, sacrifices morality for moolah, etc. It's The Godfather, it's The Social Network, it's The Wolf of Wall Street. And The Founder, while entertaining, offers pretty much nothing new, or distinctive, to contribute. It is directed fairly conventionally, the story hits all the beats you'd expect, and it's not going to stick to your memory for too long.

But that discounts the fact that the film is rather well made. Performances are uniformly solid, and the film is undeniably compelling for much of its run time. But the real reason to see the film is the powerhouse performance of Michael Keaton, a neglected actor throughout the 2000s who seems to be finally getting roles that he deserves with this, Spotlight and Birdman to consider. He is slimy, charismatic, and curiously sympathetic in all the right ways.

In all The Founder may not light your world on fire, but it's a rock solid tale of greed and the American Dream that ought to entertain most that it meets.

Side Note -I have no idea why this is playing in Australia over a month before it comes out across the rest of the world, but hey I'm not complaining.

I wasn't sure what to expect from Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them. It smelt curiously of "cash grab" since the Harry Potter films managed to conclude themselves quite perfectly, all the more so considering Warner Brothers preemptively announced four sequels before this film had reached theatres. The best compliment I can give it is that it proved me wrong- Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them never feels lazy, or cheap - it's a worthy adventure that will have all but the most cynical revelling in the wonder of the Wizarding World.

The film is fast paced and constantly dishing out new surprises, in the form of beautifully rendered, inventive CGI "beasts," and a number of hilarious, imaginative features of this magical world of New York that successfully create the illusion of being in a different world. There are tons of minute little details that delight in the purest sense. The set of new faces are mostly agreeable, the most likable being Dan Fogler, whose bumbling "non - magi" is a welcome addition. He elevates sometimes silly jokes with expert comedic timing and facial expressions. Katherine Waterston is fine enough, as is her flirtatious sister. And what of star Eddie Redmayne? He is alternately charming and annoying. The character of Newt Scamander is one fully realised by Rowling's script, yet Redmayne's Hugh Grant- esque, crouched delivery is at times grating. Nonetheless he wins you over in the end. I won't say who the villains are, because that plays into the intrigue of the plot, but suffice to say villainous characters were decidedly underused for my taste, and could've used far more development than the already packed script granted them.

In all, this film never quite touches the awe and great characters imbued within each Harry Potter film and book, but it offers many delights nonetheless, and is definitely worth seeing, especially on a big screen, where it looks positively beautiful.

Denis Villeneuve is a masterful filmmaker who consistently elevates genre pieces, as seen with Sicario and Prisoners, to awe-inspiring heights. Arrival, his first take on the science fiction field, is no exception.

The film is perhaps the most realistic, measured tale of alien invasion yet made. Here is a movie that deals with extraterrestrial contact with probing questions of linguistics and science, rather than displays of violence, sound and fury. Our hero is not a six-pack laden, gun-wielding brusque, but a college lecturer. It is difficult to discuss the movie in depth without spoilers, but the most striking aspect is how impeccably and intricately well-crafted it is. By the end of the film. upon reflection, I staggered out of the cinema marvelling at the sheer craft of the plot, which weaves mammoth intellectual concepts, questions about humanity, human experience, and, in particular, the story of one woman, Amy Adams. The film's plotting works so well as a whole that it's staggering, and this is to a great extent indebted to the editing, which I believe deserves an Academy Award. In a feat only possible in the medium of cinema, the scope of this heady tale is brought alive by complex editing, leading to a rousing finale that is emotionally cathartic. Also of note is the eerie score, truly contributing a sense of necessary awe and perturbation, as well as production design and effects, which are used perfectly to contribute necessary spectacle, but never threaten to usurp the plot itself.

It is because the positives of this film are so great that the negatives don't irk me so much. The weakest aspect of the film, fortunately alleviated by the strength of performances from Amy Adams and Jeremy Renner, is a lack of character development. It's less that I sympathised with these characters and was involved with them particularly, and more that the plot remained so intriguing I was consistently engaged. In the fashion of the similarly cerebral Interstellar, whose Cooper-Murph relationship buttressed its science fiction plot, more character development could've made this excellent film perfect. In addition, there is an unexpected, incredibly corny line towards the end that really annoyed me.

Overall, Arrival was an immensely satisfying and rewarding cinematic experience, I anticipate the movie will have some detractors, possibly because of its lack of action that populates most science fiction films, and a plot that demands your constant attention, but for me it was a thrilling exercise in realistic, grounded sci fi.

About three years ago, I looked on Nic Cage's IMDb page, and noticed a movie called "Army of One" in development. I've always had a soft spot for Cage, because no matter how many turkeys he expels he is a truly great actor given the right material. I saw the synopsis - "one man will stop at nothing to hunt down Osama Bin Laden." Then I found out this impending project was based on a true story, after which I saw the real Faulkner on Letterman describing his exploits. Finally, I saw that the director was Larry Charles, a man whose trilogy of Sacha Baron Cohen films are charged with the kind of shock factor and brio necessary to pull off this kind of tale. So I became incredibly excited - it seemed as though this was a case of actor, director and story perfectly aligned. It was late 2016 that a trailer popped up for this. I tried to avoid watching the trailer, but noticed the film would be a VOD release - hardly a good sign. Nevertheless I was super excited to see this film. That's what it's particularly saddening to say that Army of One is an absolute mess, it's not a noble failure, rather it feels persistently, incredibly lazy. None of Charles' comedic stylings make it into the film - I didn't laugh once throughout, despite the movie's repeated efforts to make me. The movie is blandly directed, and in all honesty nothing much happens. The most crushing aspect is that almost half of the runtime is devoted to Cage and a high school flame reuniting and falling in love, with a handicapped daughter to boot! Each scene that includes these two characters is crushingly tedious. Finally, to Cage himself - as much as I admire the man, he was horrifically annoying in this film. His demented, squeaky voice is grating, and what's more, the real Faulkner didn't even talk like this! When Cage is on screen about 80% of the time, it's difficult to sympathise at all. That being said, his performance does grow on you, and it indicates Cage is definitely trying harder than every one else involved. It's just such a lazy, lazy film, where cloying soundtrack is employed all too frequently, racist jokes are expelled every so often, and characters appear and disappear with no coherence (Matthew Modine is in two scenes!!) The most annoying thing is the promise that this film had. You can see glimpses of what Army of One could've been - select scenes in Pakistan (excluding the utterly unconvincing CIA agents) are enjoyable, and Russell Brand as God, as terrible as it sounds, is probably the most enjoyable and profound aspect of the film. In addition, the repeated hints that Faulkner is hallucinating half the time, indicated by visions of Osama's cave, and a HORRIBLE casino segment, are worthy ideas that are executed terribly. I was very excited for this film, and it totally let me down, to the point where it was difficult to finish it.

Endless Poetry is absolutely, incessantly, unceremoniously weird, but kind of astonishing. In other words, a typical Jodorowsky film. Continuing his saga of semi-autobiographical films, this tells the tale of Jodorowsky in youth discovering the power of poetry and living out a culturally enriched, eccentric fantasy. T he film is immediately arresting, by virtue of its strangeness. People in black suits appear to take items out of characters hands at random moments across the film. One of the characters sings every line she has, for no explicable reason. There is so much imagery packed into each frame that any attempt to understand their meaning is pointless. Endless Poetry is amovie that most people would probably not have the patience for. Under objective terms, it verges on incoherent, pretentious, unintentionally funny and flagrantly self-aggrandising (imagine if Scorsese, Nolan or even David O'Russell decided to make a trilogy of films about their own lives) where very little makes sense. But Jodorowsky films defy categorisation. There's this peculiar, unique spell the film takes on where a minority of the audience will become enraptured in the pure strangeness, as well as Jodorowsky's infectious enthusiasm and "joie de vivre" that pours out of every frame.

Being a Jodorowsky fan I enjoyedthis, but this film is certainly not for every one. However if you arelooking for something incredibly different to watch, perhaps you willfind the endearing, beautiful, non-hagiographic ode to life that i found, or you will hate it and switch it off after ten minutes. For me, anyway, it was a film that offered many rewards, especially as Jodorowsky is a filmmaker so wondrously unique that anything he makes is immediately compelling.