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Serbuan maut 2: Berandal (2014)
More dRama with your Rama
Gareth Evans and Iko Uwais return for this eagerly ambitious and undeniably impressive martial-arts, action sequel, originally intended to be the first 'Raid' film. 'Redemption' took its place as the first instalment after funding for 'Berandal' fell through, successfully amassing a strong word-of-mouth presence - and therefore the word 'cult' constantly attached to it - and subsequently green-lighting the production of the sequel(s). This has allowed the dedicated Welsh director to finally put together his main event to what is now clearly the starter course of the first film, featuring choreography designed years before The Raid was even in the public consciousness that is so finely tuned and expertly executed it brings some of the most entertaining and memorable fighting set pieces you will see for some time. It is safe to say that true fans of the first film will be in some kind of delirious heaven, as I was, watching the follow-up, but those who attend based solely on the hyperbole of the TV spot proclaiming it to be 'The Dark Knight of action movies' (?) will likely leave after the first fifteen minutes. Hold your breath brain-dead straight-to-DVD action flick fans: this movie has . . . drama!
Berendal states its intentions early with a slow-burning, exposition-heavy introduction, picking things up two hours after the events of Redemption, replete with smart graphic matches and parallel narratives. Rama (Uwais), one of the few survivors from the building-sized massacre of his first outing as a rookie cop, must now accept a mission to go deep undercover into the criminal underworld, of which what he faced before was just the tip of a very corrupted iceberg. It is a confident build-up featuring steady drama as a pre-cursor for the fairly complex, Infernal Affairs-like plot which is to follow. Suffice to say, if you had no idea as to the story of the first film, and do not follow the characters and key events at the beginning of the second, you will be lost as to what is going on, as Evans is admirably intent on providing an accompanying substance to The Raid's inimitable style. The story is not just a presence to provide space between fight scenes – the standard to which many action fan-pleasing flicks aspire to – it is important and detailed, and here is where the Dark Knight reference can at least be given some credence. The Raid: Redemption is a genre film, and The Raid as a franchise could easily have been a genre franchise, but what Berandal, and indeed The Dark Knight trilogy are desperate to do if nothing else is to weave deeper dynamics into the genre film. Sure tick the boxes of the genre, but here's a believable and well-conceived foundation for it all to take place on, because the drama and the world it takes place in are taken just as seriously as the action. Indeed, Evans is critical that action films are under-looked in terms of the recognition of dramatic performance, and in Berendal, he succeeds completely at displaying action as dramatic and emotional.
Of course, Berandal is also here for its genre-stipulating action scenes – and oh boy, does it tick that box! If you are indeed one of the story- averse, in-it-for-the-money-shot movie folk alluded to before, The Raid: Berandal is worth an entire ticket-price for the last half an hour alone, let alone the impressive set pieces which are in-dispersed throughout the rest of its two and a half hour runtime. Those who haven't tuned out because no-one is kicking someone else in the head at the moment (just those damn words that keep appearing at the bottom of the screen!), as well as the rest of us who are loving every frame and appreciating the artistry in its entirety, will be treated to some incredible, inventive and hugely fun to watch fight scenes, chases, shootouts and stunt-work which benefit from an insane amount of training, trust and dedication to make them as visceral and impactful as possible. Evans incorporates his vision via maximum usage of how a camera can be a part of the fight itself by baiting the fourth wall and having the viewer be as involved in the fights and action as possible. The camera will fly through windows with the pursued, flipping upside down or horizontal in reaction to what has happened. It will fly through car windows as if by magic to capture everything in one shot. It will barely be missed by flurries of punches and kicks as it reacts to being almost impossibly close to the madness unfolding before it. We are also treated to infrequent body-shock horror as the brutality is also dialed up from Redemption, with many an item utilized to off the loser of a fight, and new henchmen with unique weaponry as their murder-item of choice. Just wait until you get to meet Hammer Girl and Baseball Boy – no, really!
Berandal is much more than just a worthy sequel as it seeks to up the antes in every possible way. It offers an interesting, if arguably derivative, story which unfolds at its own pace, not when the action dictates it. Then, when action is called upon, it doesn't simply raise the bar – it takes the bar off and smashes it into your face. If Berandal is to 'suffer' the same 'cult hit' fate as its predecessor, maybe this isn't such a bad thing. A shame though it is that such a labour of love which attempts to take itself and the viewer seriously in delivering awesome style with respectful substance to back it up should fail as it has at the box office, we should probably enjoy such a creation in its purest form before Hollywood inevitably remakes, and therefore messes up, the franchise at some point in the future. Until then, be sure to make this vital viewing, while there is still life in it.
The Grand Budapest Hotel (2014)
Check-in for another Anderson charmer
Believe it or not, Wes Anderson has not directed as many films as you would have thought. A quick check reveals The Grand Budapest Hotel to be but his eighth full feature directorial release in 20 years - following not so hot-on-the-heels from love them or remain indifferent to them classics such as The Royal Tenenbaums and The Life Aquatic With Steve Zissou. Regardless, Anderson has undoubtedly solidified an unmistakable style in terms of both directing and writing, and these trademarks prove wonderfully showcased in his latest and, for me personally, best ensemble comedy to date.
Anderson's magic always begins with an eclectic cast of surreal characters placed in equally surreal situations in a colourful environment, and The Grand Budapest Hotel is the perfect setting for this magic to flourish. The storybook setting, creatively realised via huge, open sound stages designed to assist the madcap camera-work - in turn intended to compliment the gleefully live-action cartoon effect showcased by the well chosen cast – gives the feel of a pantomime in a giant doll house. Added to this is a conscious decision to film the different eras represented in the story with different aspect ratios, which helps to distinguish and frame each time period with its own character. The use of rudimentary models for action scenes and some establishing shots, coupled with purposefully old school slower film speeds, also contributes to the goal of translating the film kinetically via 1930s principles/limitations. It may be aesthetically overbearing at times – and for harsher critics perhaps a bit pretentious – but I found Anderson's choices for visuals exercised a character in keeping with the spirit of the meticulously executed overall tone.
The star of the show is one Gustave H., deliciously portrayed by Ralph Fiennes who, it can safely be said, leaves absolutely nothing in his locker for this particular gig. Gustave H. is the concierge for the title's establishment, and is immediately recognisable as a figure of regimented ethics and high standards in how he runs his premises and also lives his life. Imagine Basil Fawlty's even more eccentric uncle and you're halfway there. 'Quirky' is of course another way to describe Gustave H. and his actions, and overused as this descriptive term can be in Anderson flicks, it is also undeniably the case. Especially when one of Gustave H.'s main taboos is bedding any and all of the hotel's elderly guests. And when I say elderly, I mean almost two feet in the grave elderly.
The key relationship of the film is that of Gustave H. and new lobby boy 'Zero', played by newcomer(ish) Tony Revolori. Their dynamic offers a buddy comedy angle throughout the whole film and works well if not only because of the great individual performances of the actors themselves, but also for the sweetness and subtly developing bond between them as the story unfolds. Zero aspires to be Gustave H., while Gustave H. sees Zero as the chance to fashion himself anew. Their relationship has barely kicked off before the runaway train of a narrative involving heists, prison breaks and snowy-mountain chases takes over, but this does not hinder their interactions as they are joined at the hip most of the time – hilariously so when they often are sharing the same costumes or offering the same reactions as if Zero was the 'Mini Me' of Gustave H.
The cast as a whole, impeccably blocked for the sake of a relentlessly charming matinée-style presentation, is a satisfying mix of Anderson faithfuls and newcomers, as well as providing the rare treat of getting to see Bill Murray on the big screen once more (okay there was also The Monuments Men this month!). Dafoe gets to sneer about looking like Nosferatu in his part-time job as a henchman (ironic considering Shadow Of The Vampire!), Ronan blesses us with her versatile presence once more, and there are plenty of scenes where the eternal 'I know him/her!' question will pop into your head – its one where you'll almost certainly be double-checking IMDb filmographies upon leaving the auditorium! (not during of course – that would be rude . . . switch it off!) They all contribute solidly to assist what is admittedly only a fairly interesting and arguably throwaway story based loosely on the writings of someone you're likely to have never heard of. However, even by the time secret societies and family conspiracies are let loose on the plot, you should be having too much fun to really care where the story wants to go next.
Even though it is his most recent addition, The Grand Budapest Hotel would serve as a great entry point to anyone wanting to get started on Wes Anderson's filmography as it represents all the positive aspects of his talent – serving up smile-inducing comical moments via surreal circumstances and utilising great talent to realise his 'quirky' vision. The premise, plot and characters fit with their director wonderfully, and the film just feels like its always eager to please. Gustave H. could easily be speaking about the director when he utters the line towards the end "he certainly sustained the illusion with a marvellous grace". It may feel like its hanging on to the good intentions of its viewers at times, but if you fall for this one you're sure to fall for his others – so make sure to visit Anderson's other attractions as soon as you can!
RoboCop (2014)
Review reboot directive?
The 2014 Robocop, like all reboot attempts, faces an uphill struggle before it is even viewed for the first time, and this bias, rightly or wrongly, will likely affect your opinion of the film beyond its own particular merits and failures. I was certainly amongst those full of dread at the mere announcement of this new Robocop venture, fuelled for the most part by some unconvincing pre-production and on-set stills and a handful of suggestions of how it would be different not sitting right in my head (Lewis is a dude?). The trailers, likewise, did not do much to settle my already upset film-stomach (if there is such a thing – yes there is, I just made it up).
Its forebear - the original 1987 sleeper hit - is an astoundingly well- made piece of science-fiction. It is iconic for its visceral body-shock- horror and is memorable for so many reasons beside - from catchy one- liners to its perfect blend of animatronics and stop-motion animation. I am one of the many who saw it at an incredibly inappropriate age, and have re-watched and re-enjoyed it many times since. Following the reveal that such a classic is to have another version that it can be compared to, the most important question initially seemed to be 'will it live up to the original?'. However, even though my expectations were still markedly low right up to witnessing this particular reboot for the first time, a timely revelation came upon me that may have assisted the transition from cemented scepticism to the objective critique that followed – this is not 1987. Further, this is not a Paul Verhoeven film. This is 2014, and this is Jose Padilha.
So to the unintentional pun of 'rebooting' Robocop. As 'Operation send a shed load of ED-209s to the Middle East' is shown to be well underway, Samuel L. 'Motherfucking' Jackson's Pat Novak eases us into the new focus on national security as the main satirical swipe as opposed to the all-consuming consumerism of America that is the linchpin, theme-wise, in the original. His topical news debate programme, ever so slightly biased in favour of the abolition of an act that prevents robotic law enforcement on U.S. soil, becomes the recurring visual narration for the film and replaces, in a sense, the fake-smiling news anchors from before. The black comedy has survived the reboot in this and other examples, then, though at times, like the re-hash of the original score, does feel a little shoe-horned in. Thankfully, though, Padilha is not too interested in satisfying fan-boys and very quickly sets about producing his Robocop for the 21st century.
If there is one thing that is very different this time around, it is the focus on family and the arc upon which Alex Murphy's character travels along. Murphy's wife and son take on much more important roles here, even to the point of Mrs. Murphy being the one who sanctions (under intense emotional pressure) the Robocop programme in the first place. Murphy himself does not simply wake up and go into full-on Robocop mode:- he frenetically traverses a traumatic range of control and awareness. One moment OmniCorp want his human side to shine through, the next they're messing with his brain chemistry and making him think he is control when he is not. The massively increased attention to detail of the physical and emotional anatomy of the transformation of a human to becoming part robot is highly laudable. In fact, for all of the uber- violence in the original, it is actually one particular scene in this new Robocop that I found the most shocking of both versions.
Joel Kinnaman deserves a lot of credit in taking on and delivering his Murphy, inevitably, as he is, in the shadow of Peter Weller who certainly still owns the role and will for all time. It was always time to move on from the slow-moving behemoth that was necessary before, as Robocop can now Six Million Dollar Man it all over town, but Kinnaman still embellishes his performance with much of the body acting needed to make Robocop what he is. He is tasked with a large scope of emotional states to portray, sometimes all within the same scene, and earns a pass in my books for embracing the potentially ridiculous concept of being a cybernetic cop, highlighting it as a role which actually has quite an emotional depth to it. The first scene of Robocop being awoken is astonishing, and is the catalyst for an immensely enjoyable middle third where we follow Murphy on his extraordinary journey from the sublime to the ridiculous in terms of how one could even attempt to come to terms with this kind of existence.
Towards the end is where some wheels start to fall off, however. The confidence that Padilha exemplifies in tackling the relative themes and tones becomes off-balance as the film becomes indecisive over what direction it wants to take you in. It also seems strange to say that there could have been some more action, possibly in place of yet more dialogue in an office between interested parties, and it is certainly missing an iconic main villain – instead of a delicious Clarence Boddicker we get . . well, I can't even remember his name.
Overall, this is a reboot which I thought I would hate but didn't. If you approach with low expectations, there is a good chance you will be pleasantly surprised. I certainly would rather have seen what a Darren Aronofsky 'remake' would have been like (originally tasked with the project a few years ago), but I am impressed with the resolute and entertaining new vision put into place by Padilha who has done himself no harm at all for big studio projects of the future. File this one in the 'acceptable reboot' pile . . and thank you for your co-operation.
SCORE: 7.3
Grudge Match (2013)
Jabbing away at your funny bone, but no knockout hit
'Packs a punch' . . . 'It's a hit' . . . 'Swings and misses' – I cannot promise a complete absence of the inevitable '*boxing puns in a review of something to do with boxing'. The ones that do make it in, however, will hopefully be of a quality higher than this fistful (*there's one already) of examples. That being said: ring the bell (*right), it's time to review Grudge Match.
Opportunistically billed (*already?) as a fight '30 years in the making', Grudge Match teams up two undisputed *(mmm) legends of their trade, Stallone and De Niro, for a sports comedy-drama that few would really have been 'waiting for', but succeeds for the most part in being a bout that you're glad they found time for. Of course this is, figuratively, Balboa vs La Motta, with both stars possessing the relative experience, training and filmography under their belts (*loose, that's loose) that goes back to the 70s and 80s with Rocky and Raging Bull. The output in terms of action in recent times has been in Stallone's corner (*yep), with the comedy in De Niro's; in any case, fighting for box-office is what these guys do.
Indeed, comparisons to Rocky Balboa hit right in the first round (*obvious?), with the out-of-touch use of the computer games industry being the catalyst for bringing the feud of Henry 'Razor' Sharp (Stallone) and Billy 'The Kid' McDonnen (De Niro) screaming into the 21st century. Certainly things don't look great from the outset. Following a hastily created and much-bettered attempt at using a Digital Head Swap technique for the opening montage showing Sharp and McDonnen in their prime, there's a cranky, and downright sloppy opening third which does not fail to establish the humour involved with some decent jokes already hitting their intended target (*very well) but does set the tone for the poor editing and confusing camera-work which is consistently distracting through most of the film. A new drinking game could be invented which responds to the amount of bizarrely unfunny and pointless exit lines from scenes which don't know how to end, and there are more than a few poorly chosen camera angles and cuts which are at their best annoying and at their worst immersion-breaking. There is also an undeniable laziness in the genericity of the characters and the construction of the narrative, as well as some cheap, dated and out-of- place racial stereotype comedy.
Soon enough, however, Grudge Match starts to find its feet and a great deal of momentum as the plot slowly thickens, and the match draws ever closer. Maybe it's the introductions of the great casting choices in the brilliant Alan Arkin and John Bernthal , playing Sharp's old trainer and McDonnen's estranged son respectively, or the undeniable charm and spirit that is delivered throughout via smile-inducing references and seeing the stars really relish their roles (especially De Niro). There are the expected Rocky-style montages, but they are intelligent and designed to fit with the characters' conditions – though not the actors', of course, as Stallone and De Niro are certainly not that out of shape! Granted, you're more likely to have that smile on your face if you grew up watching these guys in action, similarly if you can relate to the mockery created from amusing running gags on the uses of smart-phones to make silly events go 'viral', social networking, product placement and the wearing of green latex suits to capture performance art.
If you've made it to the middle section still at least mildly intrigued as to where all this is going, the best gags, the most touching dialogue and the strangest sights await you as Grudge Match lands hit after hit (*thought we'd moved on) in the face of cynicism and shamelessly believes in itself in an admirable kind of way. Director Peter Segal (50 First Dates; Anger Management) knows when to add that drop of sentiment in at exactly the right times - though this is arguably the least subtle of his films at doing so - and succeeds in creating a believable love- triangle story between the fighters and Sharp's ex-partner Sally, played by the occasionally missing, yet still strangely reliable Basinger. Arkin constantly threatens to steal the film in both dramatic and comedic terms, adding to the strong foundation of a supporting cast which, had it been weaker, would probably not have supported the film even with this headline act in place.
By the time the main event is unveiled, a decent amount of prep work has been put in place to make it entertaining if not outright enthralling. With a combined age of 137, you have to respect the energy both Stallone and De Niro have exerted in putting on as good a show as they can. Further, the film makes the decent gesture of attempting to transform the viewers' perspective from what the characters can't or didn't do to what they can and have now chosen to. There are quite a few critics already throwing in the towel (*yesiree) on Grudge Match, but I for one did not have the heart to, nor did I believe that would be doing any justice to a film that at least tries to gradually explore the age vs. ability question, as opposed to having them constantly state 'I'm old' in a cheap, Schwarznegger-comeback type way.
The drama may be bantam-weight in the end, but the comedy is more hits than misses (*I give up), leaving Grudge Match with a win on points on my scorecard. (*pun-o-meter full)
Rating: 6/10
The Angels' Share (2012)
A strange mix
'Never judge a book by it's cover' is a line used roughly halfway through this relatively benign recent effort from British directing stalwart Ken Loach. This is a maxim to keep in mind if approaching Angel's Share with the poster's main advertising soundbite 'Scotland's answer to The Full Monty' as a trusted precursor. Like wine or whisky tasting itself, much of a film's effect is to do with the aftertaste, and it is only in the closing third of the film that the aforementioned tagline could bolster a challenge to be relevant at all, as Angel's Share, upon full viewing, provides an awkward mixture of traditional 'Loachian' working-class realism with lovable-rogue, schadenfreude comedy.
There is much to like and take away from Angel's Share, including great dialogue, brilliant comedy and memorable characters. The problem is that these elements span what feels like two films fighting each other to exist in one, with neither sitting comfortably together or allowing the viewer to solidify a perspective to settle on in terms of their relation to the main characters. It could certainly be argued that this should precisely be the case for the parts of the film which reflect how ambiguously and inconsistently characters in real life can behave, but when Loach suddenly wants to do good on that tagline, all that comes before betrays the impish, happy-go-lucky final third that is well written yet foreboded by scenes not dissimilar from the violence in films like Sweet Sixteen. Imagine some of the generic, heart-warming, feel-good comedy scenes in The Full Monty interspersed with gang beatings and attempted grievous bodily harm and you can imagine the failed dichotomy displayed during Angel's Share.
This disharmony in tone, however, is pleasingly the only main fault of the film, which can certainly be included as another of Loach's great accomplishments. Taken on a scene-by-scene basis, both the characters and the actors portraying them are addictively watchable, as they blunder and plunder as worst and best they can in the context of their worlds. The theme, born from the meaning of the title itself, is subtly explored and comes wonderfully full circle as that aftertaste at the end is about to kick in. There is honest drama amongst the frivolous escapading, much coming via the standout performance by John Henshaw as the poor guy charged with overseeing the group's community service tasks. It also includes the only known example to me of the use of '(I'm Gonna Be)' 500 Miles by The Proclaimers where the lyrics actually fit the context of the story as opposed to simply occupying a clip because they are Scottish (other stereotypes do exist, however, such as Irn Bru and kilt wearing, though these also exist in logical situations even if they may grate some at the front end).
Loach's style is never compromised as regards to the way the film is shot, even if it strays in tone come the end of the story. Glasgow is shown rather than shown off, with barely an establishing shot in sight, helping to bring the viewer down to the level at which the characters themselves exist at - drab interiors, hostile alleyways, rundown tenement areas, etc. It is when the group set off on their daring 'heist' that the beautiful shots of the Highlands offer a sensible contrast as a visual metaphor - the job at hand providing faint hope of starting afresh (even though it is still a crime they are intending to commit). An awful, almost ten-minute tour of the whiskey distillery makes you feel like you've wandered into the filming of a tour itself rather than still watching a film, but is subsequently saved by the attempted pilfering of the 'Holy Grail' of whiskies - perfectly paced and ramped up with tension. In fact the crux of the story is so well crafted it almost makes you forget how little reason you should have to root for the success of the group's plan in the first place.
Intentionally ambiguous yet jarringly inconsistent, Angel's Share succeeds in delivering an entertaining and memorable mixture of comedy and drama. Just ignore that tagline, and watch out for the aftertaste . . .
Precious (2009)
purple minds
Precious is the kind of film that can compel you to feel majorly contrasting attitudes towards people in general simultaneously, here specifically - disgust in the callous abuse that people are capable of realising upon others, even their own family - and faith - in the existence of the benign stranger that can show the exact opposite and care for your welfare. This paradox of emotions invest-able in human beings shines through in this film via patient, unpretentious direction, solidly measured casting and performances, and a hard-hitting, relevant theme.
The depiction of Precious' world (overweight, illiterate, pregnant with her father's child for second time, object of bullying) intentionally follows the maxim at the beginning that 'Every life is a gift from the universe', which becomes more and more unbelievable as Precious is hit, pushed over, pulled apart and stuck to the ground. Even when reversed and it seems that Precious is capable of committing acts detrimental to others such as stealing or casual violence, we can forgive her immediately as we have been presented with her situation at home, where her mother is an integral part of the 'cycle of abuse', the cessation of which being one of the main attractions for the film's motivation. The 'way out' juncture presents itself through the chance to attend an 'alternative school', coupled with a classroom full of over-the-top characters and a sympathetic teacher.
Scenes bravely wallow in the cesspit of Precious' sorrow, not wanting to cut away easily as this is something Precious cannot easily do herself. Apart from an initially sceptical optimism that the new school holds the key to a new life, the only way she can generate escapism is through the occasional use of wishful daydreaming, where her imagination takes her from signing autographs for her many fans, to performing on stage to her future beau. These scenes in particular, however, do not fit into the structure of the film as naturally as, say, a Dancer In The Dark, and can illicit humour instead of the presumed desire to portray a stark contrast to Precious' trappings in life. (It is nice, however, to see the girl smile during the bleakness of the main feature!)
There are unfortunately some other notable negatives that can be identified after viewing. The tone of the film shifts through too many gears in too few scenes towards the end, with jubilation and uncharacteristic wise-cracking from the main character intersecting with further grief and tragedy in a way that makes you feel you blinked and missed a few scenes (usually the telltale sign of bad editing). The character of Nurse John (played by Lenny Kravitz) feels completely pointless and ends up appearing like some kind of stalker who has all his attention on Precious in an undefined way (I later discovered that this role was created just for the film because the director desperately wanted the rocker in the film - oh dear). Most criminally of all is the surprising under-use of the quite good de-make-up'd Carey who delivers rather well in a welfare officer role, but is given just TWO scenes, with an entire year passing by in between. Instead most focus is put on Ms. Rain, a slightly boring and ineffective teacher who's only interesting reveal is that she's a lesbian. I would have certainly switched the screen time on these two characters if it were up to me.
Despite these minor faults, I believe Precious to be a triumph. I was relieved when it seemed that it was simply going to drift comfortably into Dangerous Minds-mimicking territory midway through, only for the film to strongly re-assert its own tone almost immediately and for the remainder of the run time. The performances of all the major cast are excellent, especially Mo'Nique as Precious' bitter mother, and Gabriel Sidibe herself is extraordinary, given a difficult role requiring a lot of energy and sensitivity. I'm a sucker for describing films via mash-ups, and for this I would say its The Color Purple by way of Dangerous Minds. Take from that what you will, but I certainly suggest you take a look at Precious. Not necessarily one to watch over and over, but definitely not one to miss.
The Muppets (2011)
"It's time to play the music, it's time to light the lights, it's time to meet the Muppets . ."
The iconic introduction to The Muppet Show resonates in hugely nostalgic terms for those of a certain age, though it also struck me as being an allusion to a very noticeable recent Hollywood trend - skip- rummaging through the back catalogue of previously successful intellectual properties in order to recycle/rejuvenate/re-whatever any decades-old quasi-kids show themed licence it can in order to secure another run at a franchise in the present. The Smurfs, Yogi Bear and Alvin & The Chipmunks are other examples of recent attempts at this (with poor to average results), the question for me then being: when and why is it 'time to meet' these characters and worlds again? For the adults who were the original target audience, the memories of enjoying the wondrous, imaginative entertainment is probably enough, so is dragging their beloved characters into the 21st century simply to churn some box-office receipts out of hapless family days out at the cinema excusable? Well, if it's done in the right way, it's arguable that it's the adults, the grown-up kids, who'll be dragging their own kids to the cinema with the learned enthusiasm that their little sprogs don't even possess, unaware as they are of the cultural relevance of the original shows. The kids will then be enthused post-viewing and assist in helping the franchise explore its new lease of life (see Transformers), whilst the adults bask in the sentimental charm. Who, then, is more excited for (re-)meeting the Muppets – the adults or the kids? Can this kind of unsubtle attempt at 're-franchising' be both commercially successful and maintain the integrity and substance that the original productions worked so hard to establish?
The Muppets, possibly unsurprisingly, pulls it off. Disney, Segal and company manage to sidestep the forgetful flatness that this kind of recycling project can bring largely because of its writing and, crucially, its premise. The intentional tongue-in-cheek tone of the Muppets' humour is kept largely intact, and this, coupled with the intelligent self-referential scripting of Segal and Stoller, helps to deliver one of the aforementioned Hollywood rejuvenation projects in a less cynical and more heart-warming fashion. As a direct example there is a scene midway through the film that involves the Muppets, along with fans Gary, Mary and Walter, pitching the return of the show to a dry, uncaring, indifferent TV executive, creating an awareness within the film itself of what it is trying to do – start all over again. The characters and the writers alike are directly engaged with the very starting point of why the movie they are involved in is in existence in the first place – to regain that magic. It's unfortunate that a lazily conceived oil baron should be the villain to kick-start the story, but it is how the characters pick up the plot baton and run with it that is so refreshing to see.
The self-referencing litters the film without too much risk of being overdone, with hilarious nods to montage, singing monologues, musical clichés, and film clichés in general ("we should travel by map!"). In structuring the narrative around setting up the hopeful success of performing the old format of the show (vaudeville, variety, guest stars), the final act gains excellent momentum come the beginning of the telethon – required to fund the Muppets' hopes of saving their studio – and suffers from no lack of clarity as to the motivation of all involved. Gary and Mary's half-baked relationship aside, the characters are all very much invested in the calamitous yet fatally important consequences the 'one last show' event may bring. The perpetual up-and- down/on-off relationship between Kermit and Miss Piggy logically cruises parallel to the main themes, but it is the touching humbleness of superfan Walter that gains the film its unobvious charm. The concept of a muppet aspiring to be a 'Muppet' is some kind of genius in and of itself. In fact, early on in the proceedings, it is Walter that is the source of some of the funniest moments (constant screaming montage/electric fence toss).
With all the energy poured into the things that work, however, there are a few misfires to be endured, such as Adams' peculiarly dialled-in performance, a few ripped-off visual gags (sprinkler on window to mimic rain), and one or two self-indulgences from Brett McKenzie's generally pleasant musical supervision that sound like rejects from Flight Of The Conchords. One scene in particular combines almost all of the flaws the film can be said to possess as Adams uncomfortably performs 'Me Party' in a removable scene that interrupts the otherwise smooth flow of story. Die-hards would also point to the absence of specific Muppets characters, but with so many to choose from (and at least one sequel in the pipeline), a few omissions cannot be too damaging for the general viewer.
As The Muppets hits its admittedly predictable finale, and a well-known (even for a none-Muppets fan) tune is recited by all during the end credits, the lack of a feeling of indifference is what pleased me the most. Of course there have been Muppets films throughout the last few decades, but this was an attempt to recapture the feel of the original show, and it succeeds through an intelligent concept for the characters to be involved in. It's certainly fair to concede that the original shows are better in probably every respect, but this is not an episode, it's a film that decently proposes a sentimental relation to the series with some care, as opposed to just slapping a title on a poster. For some it will comfort as smiles uncontrollably appear on faces when the stars of the show do their thing. For new viewers it should entertain even if some references fly over the head like a frog thrown by a pig. The fact that it can manage both means it can work, so . . . "it's time to play the music, it's time to light the lights . . .