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Shame

Chronicle

2011 Year in Review

The Descendants

War Horse

Mission Impossible: Ghost Protocol

Being Elmo

The Adventures of Tintin

We Need to Talk About Kevin

Wall Street: Money Never Sleeps

Drive

The Thing

Conan the Barbarian

MIFF 2011: Fire in Babylon

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 2

The Tree of Life

Cars 2

X-Men: First Class

White Dog

Source Code

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Shame

February 7th 2012 01:36

Steve McQueens much anticipated follow up to Hunger (2009) is an equally raw, disturbing cinema experience. As with this talented British artists debut feature, Michael Fassbender plays the central protagonist, Brandon, a sex addict whose penchant for porn consumes his waking hours. His work computer has been taken from him to be cleansed of viral infections, whilst a series of partners are regularly subsumed into his New York apartment for one night stands.

Then a new element is introduced; without notice, his sister, cabaret singer Sissy (Carey Mulligan), appears on the scene looking for a place to crash. Theres clearly little affection between the pair; her presence is simply an intrusion to Brandon, an impediment to the freedom of physical release he savours in solitude or with anonymous partners.

Shame works most effectively on a subliminal level in its examination of a subtly shifting dynamic in which a mans devotion to his subversive sexual identity is displaced by the presence and behaviour of his sister. Despite its impressive performances and generally compelling subject matter, theres a sterility to McQueens film; a hollowness that prevents the spark of emotional investment in these characters from ever being lit.

Brandon is undeniably an unsympathetic character - a hedonist and narcissist whose perception of women is limited to his objectification of them. Sissy too is difficult to assess; her pathetic late-night pleadings to a boyfriend on the phone carry the stench of desperation and need. Her careless attachment to Brandons boss after her latest gig is a particularly insightful gesture, both illustrative of a fluid conception of morality and a spiteful statement of defiance against the cold shoulder of Brandons reception.

The slippery nature of McQueen and Abi Morgans screenplay means we never really get a firm handle on Brandon. His flirtation with a co-worker offers insight into a more conventional flirtation; momentarily stripped of his dysfunctional affectations, his charm and ability to interact with the opposite sex become apparent. But when he takes her to a hotel room to consummate the attraction the unsettling undercurrent ignited by Sissys invasion of his personal space rises harmfully to the surface in complex ways.

A final spiral into reckless despair allows an impressive Fassbender to wade into the darker currents of Brandons inverted identity which seems to preclude any notion of love that isnt purely sexual in nature. Its difficult to feel empathy for this man despite the raw emotional outpouring that seeks to tap into a relatable despondency. For too long, Brandon is alienating, but in spite of this, Shame (2011) lingers in the mind. My initial impression is that Hunger remains the more accomplished film, and yet I cant shake off the feeling that perhaps, of the two, Shame is the one more insistently demanding a repeat viewing.

Shame opens in Australian cinemas on Thursday, February 9.

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Chronicle

February 2nd 2012 04:09

Despite following the now less than novel ground rules established by found footage predecessors like The Blair Witch Project (1999), Cloverfield (2008), the Paranormal Activity franchise and others, Josh Tranks Chronicle has a genuine freshness to it, though a paucity of compelling ideas to keep us thoroughly transfixed.

Thoughtfully condensed to a compact 80 minutes by an omniscient editor, the films sole perspective is that of lonely teenage outsider Andrew (Dane DeHaan). How fortunate then to be armed with a new video camera he's using to obsessively record daily events when hes seized from a party by cousin Matt (Alex Russell) and his friend Steve (Michael B. Jordan) to document a strange occurrence in the nearby woods. A hole in the ground is dutifully followed to an apparent alien life force which, when they draw curiously closer, afflicts the trio with telekinetic powers. Initially they use these new abilities for light-hearted, mostly, juvenile pranks, before their awkward dynamic is disturbed by resentments which threaten to combust.

Though the performances are solid, the characterisations in Chronicle (2012) are predictably thin: the nerdy loner, the jock and the All-American good guy have all outlived their welcome. A wait for interesting subversions of these stereotypes will be a long one. Screenwriter Max Landis (son of John) attempts to weave a domestic violence subplot into the mix - mainly as a pretext for Andrews perpetual usage of the video camera - but it feels contrived from the get-go.

Dont bother contesting the illogic of how the trios activity remains invisible or unreported to all for so long. The film thrives on scant notions of exploring freedom and luxury of a supernaturally enhanced imagination. In that regard it widens the boundaries of experience allowing the young men to jet skywards and frolic amongst the clouds as their powers increase. But the responsibility that comes with these powers is eventually abused, to nobodys great surprise. Did anyone not foresee an overblown variation of Revenge of the Nerds (1984) on the cards? Another obvious parallel is Andrew Flemings underrated The Craft (1996) in which a coven of teen witches try to cope with the erratic predilections of its fiercest personality once her expanding influence goes to her head.

For many the destructive fifteen minute finale and showdown will be more than adequate compensation for the films obvious flaws. The effects are a little wonky but to be fair, it makes for a highly entertaining spectacle. Theres a genuine awe intermingled with the orgiastic kinetic flaying of Andrews revenge. Chronicle didnt necessarily need saving but this impressive set-piece will be a sequence long remembered.

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Man on a Ledge

January 31st 2012 02:57

Asger Leths Man on a Ledge showcases a screenplay riddled with holes and requiring stratospheric leaps of faith to believe it overlaps with any known reality for even a millisecond. This is the filmic equivalent of mouldy Swiss cheese. Nick Cassidy (Sam Worthington) checks into a city hotel, half-heartedly prods at a final meal and then proceeds to climb out on the 20th storey ledge. Is he genuinely contemplating suicide or just an attention seeker in pursuit of his fifteen minutes of fame? Or could he be just using himself to establish a diversion that will distract half the New York City police force from another location?

A crowd gathers, the police enter the fray with an unwilling celebrity negotiator, Mercer (Elizabeth Banks), specifically requested by Cassidy to lead the verbal sparring. Nick thwarts any chance of progress, hoping perhaps, to prolong this rapidly escalating street circus to divert attention from a related sub-plot playing out nearby and involving his brother Joey (Jamie Bell)? A series of flashbacks sheds minimal light on Cassidys story and how his predicament began. Then we return to the ledge where the remainder of this tiresome ruse plays out grinding slow-motion. In the place of intrigue and mystery, come boredom and frustration to pound us into a coma.

Preposterous, empty-headed, dull: these and other derogatory descriptions readily come to mind when assessing Man on a Ledge, one of the more implausible thrillers to fill our cinema screens in recent years. A modicum of talent is wasted, primarily in the form of Banks who attempts to alleviate the deadening inertia of screenwriter Pablo Fenjvess set-up by generating a feisty edge for her role as chief negotiator haunted by a recent, very public failure. But spitting into a gale force hurricane cant be all that much fun and with the painfully mediocre Worthington to butt heads against, this talented actress is pinned between a rock and a hard place. (Either could apply to Worthington whose wooden, uncharismatic countenance will soon have most audience members praying for the illogical, mysterious but welcome appearance of a banana skin on that damnable ledge).

A flimsy Edward Burns, attempting to linger purposefully on the edge of an occasional frame as a second-tier cop, and a snarling Ed Harris as a clichd money-hungry rich bastard with red-lettered links to Cassidys past misdemeanours, round out a cast who, presumably, signed on the dotted line before a final draft was locked in place.

Its true, we offer many films of this ilk not insubstantial dispensation when aligning their shortcomings against their more favourable qualities. But no matter what angle you come at Man on a Ledge (2012), this is a cinema experience offering precious little joy; it stockpiles absurdities for its duration and yet expects us to keep rolling with the logic-defying punches. The mystery of Worthingtons continued employment in Hollywood will persist but even this conundrum is eventually overshadowed by a final, indelible impression - namely, the rank stupidity of this forgetful, nonsensical film.

Man on a Ledge opens in Australian cinemas on Thursday, February 2.

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Young Adult

January 18th 2012 02:49

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Journey 2: The Mysterious Island

January 16th 2012 05:41

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2011 Year in Review

January 13th 2012 03:08

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The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo

January 9th 2012 21:56

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The Descendants

January 8th 2012 23:12

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