The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo - Film Review

Given that David Fincher's big Hollywood remake is pending, and will no doubt receive the attention that his reputation merits, it seems both relevant and fitting to go back and re-examine and evaluate the 2009 Swedish original, a masterclass from Niels Arden Oplev.

Based on the novel by the late Steig Larsson, the film follows two characters, disgraced Millenium reporter Mikael 'Kalle' Blomkvist (Michael Nyqvist) and introvert, punk hacker Lisbeth Salander (Noomi Rapace) as they form an unlikely duo and attempt to solve a murder that has gone unresolved for forty years.

We meet Blomkvist as he is being sentenced to a prison term for libelous claims made against an industrial tycoon in his newspaper. He is certain he has been set up, a view shared by others, including another wealthmonger, ageing business head Henrik Vanger (Sven Bertil-Taube), who's family live on a secluded snowy island. In 1966, his niece and spiritual daughter Harriet disappeared without a trace, presumed dead. Still restless over the matter, and convinced her death was at the hands of one of his family members, he offers Blomkvist a healthy sum to crack the case.

He is not alone in his investigation for long. Lisbeth, who had previously been hired to collate information on Blomkvist, continues to hack his computer and finds information about his new project. Unable to resist the mystery, she does some case work of her own, solves a long baffling riddle, and joins forces with the plucky journalist. Together, they begin to find links to a series of pseudo religuous killings from many years before, which seemingly tie in with their case, and become endangered as the murderer turns out to be closer than they know.

Although its elaborate mystery thriller aspect is highly enjoyable, albeit one that at times seems like a grittier, darker Agatha Christie romp, it's in the subtext that TGWTDT finds its real hammering thrust and knife edge. Set against a backdrop that includes power infused corruption and degradation, dangerous political slants and the concept of the hurt and the givers of pain, the story takes a deeper, edgier pedestal. It makes an almost casual reference to the pro-Nazi collaboration that took place in the thirties and forties, a taboo in Sweden, and has no qualms about displaying the worst areas humans have to show for themselves. Torture, suffering and rape.

Make no mistake, the film pulls no punches. Many of the characters are presented as sadistic horror shows, particularly when it comes to their treatment of females. Considering that the book's original title is The Men Who Hate Women, that shouldn't come as a great surprise, and it's almost anti-man slant is accenuated in particular by Lisbeth, the victim of abuse as a child and later exploited sexually, and horrifically, by her parole officer. That she is able to get even on that count, and hold her own in others, suggests that the film not only covers the festering nature of being the victim, but also the empowerment of fighting back.

Which is why Lisbeth, the titular character and hero of the story in spirit, is the film's most famous export. She is a singularly minded, aloof young woman beset on all sides by threats of all kinds, who wears her gothic attire and rebellious appearance with spite rather than pride, completely alien to the idea of opening up, or of seeing a man as anything other than an opportunistic pig. In so much media, this archetype fails miserably, coming across as cartoonish. Luckily, Oplev has the revelatory Noomi Rapace to rely on, and its no great surprise that the actress is on her way to big things internationally. Her Lisbeth is searing, incendiary, alluring and fascinating.

Michael Nyqvist plays Blomqvist as a wry old cynic, unconventional and at times eccentric if not world weary and wary. The chemistry between he and Lisbeth is palpable but not overcooked, and they make a great double act, with her often taking the masculine traits of the relationship. There are plenty of examples of role-reversal here, both figurative and literal, with this being one of the more subtle examples. He is interminably the good man, the freedom fighting writer and sneak, his weapons compassion and understanding. But there is also a vulnerability about him, much like Lisbeth, and although she wears hers on her shoulder (or intricate body art), his is conveyed by a hang dog expression and tentative sentimentality.

It's appropriate that the book is named after such a small, narratively insignificant detail, because in many ways the plot of the film only exists as a way to convey its themes. The art is in the details and background, not the emboldened foreground. That's not to say that the main story is not gripping and exciting, because it is. Well structured and intelligent, its engrossing and follows its ultimate point to the tip.

Oplev doesn't only excel here, he also mounts the picture beautifully, with plenty of symbolic imagery and gorgeous cinematography. Snowy, wintertime Sweden looks both unbearably cold and starkly attractive to look at from the warmth of your living room. The script is both fairly faithful and strongly independent, and for all its bleakness there are the occasional well timed placements of warmth and humour. Jacob Groth's dissonant soundtrack fuels the fire of expectation, and the editing keeps a quick pace despite it's long running time. You also have strong performances, including Bjorn Granath as a veteran police officer, Marika Lagercrantz and Peter Haber as more approachable members of the Vanger family, and all of the above. If there is any flaw in this film, it isn't technical.

It's still to be seen whether Fincher can even do justice to this film, let alone top it, and watching it again begs the question of whether such a remake is required. Do people really have such a problem with subtitles? Do they really find it so hard to empathise with a character who isn't of their race? Regardless, this original holds a certain uniqueness and independence that will always stand it in good stead, and ensure it doesn't fade from memory within the shadow of the re-do. While on the surface The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo hits heights as a murder mystery, its real heart and breathing soul is a white hot epicentre of depraved humanity and retribution, named for a small detail and famed for its shock moment. Appropriate, really.

9/10

Drive - Film Review

Highly anticipated, with a low throbbing buzz of hype around it, Nicolas Winding Refn's dark thriller delves into some rather unexpected territory during a format which is far more predictable, creating a film hybrid of hypnotic calibre.

The film follows the nameless, backstory-less driver (Ryan Gosling), a mechanic and film stuntman who operates as a getaway specialist for extra cash, but otherwise leads a lonely, singular existence, not alive until he is behind the wheel. After meeting single mother neighbour Irene (Carey Mulligan), he begins to feel something more, but then his new found happiness is shattered by the violent arrival in his life of mobsters clamouring for money in a scheme he never understands, but is forced into bringing the sharp end to.

Gosling's driver is a mysterious man, rarely speaking and with low volumes, who comes into his element when escorting bank robbers out of danger, or in restoring old cars for his boss and closest friend Shannon (Bryan Cranston, building a new career after his success in Breaking Bad), one of the few people who seems to understand him. When he meets Irene, an unsatisfied but defiantly upbeat worker and mother, there is suddenly a spark in him, and he seems more human as he grows to know her and her son Benicio (Kaden Leos). Despite this, he has a darkness about him, a scary side that is kindled when Irene's husband Standard (Oscar Isaac) is released from prison, and subsequently falls foul of old prison mates, putting his family in mortal danger. Naturally, the driver steps in, becoming intangled in a web of deceit in his efforts to protect the new livelihood he has discovered, and unleashing his dangerous potential.

Drive is a very curious film, and the crux of this falls on Refn, who's fingerprints are all over it in a way that is less ego directing and more visual stamp. It's clear from reading the plot summary how the film is originally scripted as a run of the mill action thriller, albeit with some mystery elements to it bordering on modern noir. But the conspiring dark force is pushed firmly into the background by Refn, with the elaborate scheme made almost unintelligble to the point that it is clearly not meant to be the focus, and even deliberately inaccessible. The gangsters, represented by Albert Brooks and Ron Perlman, are showcased as pretty flawed people with labyrinth schemes and deadly methods, hardly evil geniuses. Instead, Refn focusses on the characters and the quiet moments, using the violent confrontations within the second half as a show of contrast towards the quiet, dreamlike phase of the first.

In doing this, he takes a creative choice similar to Peter Weir's Witness, in that the relationship between the driver and Irene, the story's fulcrum, is completely deconstructed. Instead of getting sappy dialogue and long winded verbal expression of feelings, there is barely any dialogue between the two, instead reliance is put on Gosling and Mulligan to show their emotions towards each other visually. The result is some quiet beautiful moments, comprising longing looks and staring into one another's eyes, testing each other's intentions and desires.

This is of huge benefit to Gosling especially, who provides a superb performance as the nameless driver. There are incredible depths to the character, who on the surface appears to hold no personality traits aside from his love of cars, and no past aside from hints made by Shannon. But although this does make the audience demand more information, it also provides it in a very subtle sense, with his occasionally child-like demeanour, an odd vulnerability, and propensity for retributive action suggest a powerful trauma from his past, a dark side to his history. Carey Mulligan, already a highly sought after actress after her breakthrough in An Education, acts almost as a totem to the driver's story, but still brings an energy, weary yet hopeful, which is alluring. The other actors, in compact parts, hit the right buttons.

As mentioned, there is a distinct turn for deep foreboding halfway through, when things begin to go downhill, following a botched pawn shop robbery that is shrouded in ambiguity. The music begins to pierce rather than soothe, changing the tone from serene surreality to fierce savagery, while Gosling's increasing choked down rage manifests itself physically, not verbally. When things kick off, the violence is both stylised and extreme, sharply at odds with what came before. That much of it is meated out by the driver indicates just how things have changed, and the unleashing of this animal rage is doubly shocking and depressing. You can tell this is a man who has been supressing such animal instincts for some time, and it is tragic that the neccessity to employ them again will mean he cannot have the happiness he seeks. The bitter irony in that by protecting what he holds dearest, he cannot obtain it, as it gets further and further from his reach with each sacrificial step.

After his efforts in the searing Bronson earned him such acclaim, Refn clearly revels in bringing his own slant to somebody else's script (one adapted from James Sallis's book of the same name), approaching the story with a different angle which makes a tired old story highly refreshing and, dare I say it, original. You're unlikely to have seen something like Drive before, and probably won't again until the Dane's next film. Every angle is thoughtfully chosen, while his control over light and sound is meticulous and affecting, bringing a distinctive atmosphere to the piece. Nothing in Drive is shot by normal standard, it always looks different in some way, while the more action based scenes are enthralling without using cliched methods. There's an undercurrent of dirty, grimy realism here, tempered by eloquent, surreal presentation. It's clear that this is a typical thriller directed by an art house filmmaker.

While Gosling simmers and impresses, and everyone is in uniformly good form, the real star of Drive is it's director, full of confidence and surging passion for his first Hollywood project, and creating a distinctive and memorable film which really shouldn't be as downright effective as it is. If you want to see something different, this is your ticket, never too far from conventional but always, beat for beat, it's own animal.

9/10

Ten Unsung Villains in Film: Part 2

And now, the conclusion...

5. Commudus, Gladiator

"They tell me your son...squealed like a girl when they nailed him to the cross. And your wife... moaned like a whore when they ravaged her again and again... and again"

Often the best bad guys are the ones who, to a highly limited degree, are almost sympathetic. Of course, emotional strife and long standing daddy issues is a pretty good place to start.

In Ridley Scott's Gladiator, Commudus is the subject of Maximus's vengeance. He is the insecure young man who suffocates his father Marcus Aurelius to become Emperor, and orders both the hero's execution and the brutal killing of his family. In principle, he is borderline pantomine, a dog kicking villain with a needlessly cruel touch, pure evil as to give the protagonist sufficient ammunition to make his quest both understandable and supportable.

But on the strength of Joaquin Phoenix's performance, the character becomes much more than standard moustache twirling fare. An unusual piece of casting (and one Scott failed to pull off again with Oscar Isaac in Robin Hood), in that at this point Phoenix was still best known as a former child actor and the strangled voice on the infamous 911 call for River, his brother. But here, he brings something approaching pathos to an undoubtedly bad apple, but one stricken by self doubt, self deprecation and borderline psychosis, unloved by his family and his people, who has spent his life trying, and failing, to please his legendary father. Rather than pathetic, he is pitiful. Rather than loathesome, he is tragic. There is a complex dichonomy to this part, one bordering on Shakespeare, that makes his presence and actions fascinating. Russell Crowe may have won the Oscar, but his was not the best performance in the film.

4. David Kleinfeld, Carlito's Way

"Fuck you and your self-righteous code of the goddamn streets. Did it pull you out of a 30 year stint in only 5 years? No, it didn't, I did. Did it get you acquitted 4 fucking times? No, it didn't, I did, so fuck you, fuck the streets, your whole goddamn world is this big, and there's only one rule, you save your own ass"

Unrecognisable behind a frizzy, red haired 70's tribute band look and rounded spectacles, Sean Penn amazingly went for pure mercenary mode for Brian De Palma's crime thriller Carlito's Way, taking the part of shyster David Kleinfeld purely so he could fund his own film project, The Crossing Guard. Unlike most 'take the money and run' roles, however, Penn doesn't slouch an inch.

He plays completely against type as Al Pacino's titular character's lawyer and confidante, in Carlito's view a crusading young attorney with extraordinary abilities in the courtroom. However, the five years that he's been in the can have seen some big changes, and over the course of the film, he realises that Kleinfeld has mutated into a money grabbing, opportunist coke addict losing his grip on reality. His discovery that the man orchestrating his downfall, and feeding him to the New York D.A, in his best friend is as heartbreaking for the audience as it is for Carlito. And when Kleinfeld, calling in his favour, hooks our anti-hero into a final job to save his skin, we realise just how far the man has fallen into greed and dementia.

It is an extraordinary performance, played low key for the most part, which brings an authentic, human edge to the film's true bad guy, in essence a fallen angel passing Carlito on the way down crime's slippery slope. We only slowly begin to realise his true nature, his new self, by drip and drab, engulfed in addiction and depraved luxury. As much as he deserves his comeuppance, we also hope that he somehow comes round, that his undoubted chemistry with Pacino is rekindled. That we don't brings his character full arc, and makes the film what it is. Keep your friends close...

3. Gaer Grimsrud, Fargo

"Shut the fuck up, or I'll throw you back in the trunk, you know?"

Given that Fargo is something of a darkly comedic farce, and by dark I mean pitch black, it's a surprise that you could pick out a suitably evil villain from the catalogue of veritable idiots in attendance. But, while he takes a while to get going, Peter Stormare's Gaer, one half of the kidnapping duo along with Steve Buscemi's Carl, goes on to provide the film's richly disturbing dark heart, albeit it's hilarious one.

Non-talkative Swede Grimsrud spends much of his time with a vacant look on his face, cigarette drooping from his mouth, and regards his partner in crime Showater with nothing less than utter contempt. When the hapless duo are paid to kidnap William H Macy's wife, by Macy himself no less, they go about their business in a borderline slapstick manner, eventually prevailing through dumb luck. But the plan quickly goes to shit when Grimsrud decides to start taking overly judicuous action to protect himself and, of course, his money. From gunning down a young couple who witness his murder of a police officer, to his eventual killing of their hostage out of irritation, he turns out to be an utter psychopath, and suddenly his cold, dead eyes and lifeless facial expressions become terrifying.

This culminates in the film's famous finale, which includes Gaer, Frances McDormand's quirky copper Marge, and a woodchipper with a leg sticking out of it. Horribly funny and yet wholy disgusting at the same time, it sums up the character perfectly, episodes of extreme violence that never come without traces of gallows humour and knockabout daftness. From this film, Stormare carved out a career in Hollywood as a foreign crazy for hire, and it's no wonder. He's chilling here, albeit also ridiculous. It makes Marge's final indictment, her utter inability to understand why he would go so far for some money, all the more cutting.

2. Kit Carruthers, Badlands

"I shot him in the stomach"
"Was he mad?"
"He didn't say nothing to me about it..."

Here we have something of a rarity, a villain in a Terrence Malick film. But, going by the rules of creative compromise, he isn't really a villain anyway, instead actually the protagonist. And retrospectively, a demon.

Badlands is a strangely hypnotic and poetic film, seductive in its visuals and free flowing narrative, but also hugely original in it's completely ambivalent tone. We follow the journey of young, dispirited dreamers Kit and Holly, who ditch their hopeless home lives for a cross country homicidal road trip. And while Kit, played by Martin Sheen in his breakthrough role, is presented as an anti-hero archetype, he is clearly just a psychopath to Holly's happy witness sociopath, perversely the perfect couple.

As he kills police officers, rangers, old friends and his lover's strict father, he never seems to be anything other than a mysterious, charming and alluring presence, a free bird without purpose, a rebel without a cause. He never displays malice, blood thirst or enjoyment for his crimes, but commits them anyway, never truly able to express his motive or reasons, other than a pent up urge he has felt after years of dissatisfaction. Personality childlike, and strutting hip, he stares at the world around him in wonderment even as he destroys a small part of it, gaining unintended fame.

The most effective part of all this is that it comes in retrospect. Sheen, mesmeric and charismatic, never plays Kit as a villain, and Malick never builds him up to be one. It's this neutral tone which means you don't really appreciate the horror of his killing spree until after the end credits roll, when he is happily on his way to the electic chair. It is an image, and an ideal, that stays with you for some time after viewing.

1. Jimmy Conway, Goodfellas

" I'm not mad, I'm proud of you. You took your first pinch like a man and you learn two great things in your life. Never rat on your friends and always keep your mouth shut"

Let's not beat around the bush here, Goodfellas is pretty much objectively a brilliant film. Subjectively, it's one of the best. And as much as it's seductive and glamorous presentation of the mafia is its key strength, it also benefits from some genius storytelling and what could cynically be described as tropes.

One of these inspired moves is hard to frame because of the film's fairly authentic take on a true story, but is sublimely pulled off. The issue of a villain in Goodfellas is hard to tackle, because the villains are the good guys, the protagonists, and the big bad of the story is the law. Going beyond that, you naturally deviate towards Joe Pesci's menacing and terrifying Tommy DeVito as being the biggest of the do-baders, and rightfully so. But this is a great mode of decoy.

The film's real villain is the subtle one, Robert De Niro's ultimate nice guy James 'Jimmy' Conway (based on real life Irish mobster Jimmy Burke). While Tommy chews scenery and scares the shit out of all manner of player, Conway surveys his field, watches closely his friends, fed by his paranoia over being found out. Introduced as a charismatic wise guy, handing out hundred dollar bills to waiters and doormen, a friendly arm on the shoulders of young Henry Hill, his true nature is much darker, far more insidious.

He has his own crew wiped out because he fears they will rat him out, as portrayed in the Layla Piano Exit montage, following the Lufthansa heist, is happy to help out Tommy's rage induced murder of Billy Batts, and partakes in most of the film's genuinely evil actions. And he does so behind a veneer of cold calm, precise and deadly, motivated by overkill motives. While Tommy is a nutter, Jimmy isn't, he doesn't have the temperament to use as an excuse. He is fully aware of the implications of every one of his murders, and carries them out anyway, and has forgotten about it five minutes later.

It's almost invisible, and takes more than one viewing to fully appreciate, and even then is only really made clear by De Niro's wonderful performance, one of the most subtle and underplayed of his long and distinguished career. His decision to wack the loud mouthed Morrie, played entirely visually to the tune of Cream's Sunshine of Your Love, only lasts about twenty seconds, but is the greatest example of non-verbal acting ever put on screen. That you can see exactly what he's thinking, cigarette as prop, with barely any giveaways in his facial expressions, is simply mesmeric. Again, this one clip is a summation of the rotten core of the character, but also the crystalisation of De Niro's behemoth acting prowess.

Also, it proves to be pivottal within the film's plot. It is Jimmy's irrational fear of snitches, and feelings of neccessity towards violent clearing of house, that proves to be his downfall, driving Henry towards the feds and witness protection. And it's fully deserved. Conway is not so much the dark horse, as much as he is the snake to Pesci's dragon, the real devilish menace. That you are barely able to recognise just how evil he truly is, unable to comprehend him as the real villain, is a compliment to a layered performance and a perfectly played cinematic long con.

Honourable Mentions

D-Fens, Falling Down

Holly, Badlands

Jame Gumb, Silence of the Lambs

L'il Ze, City of God

Arthur Burns, The Proposition

Ten Unsung Villains in Film: Part 1

Another top ten list for pondering here, a long lost relative of the top ten underrated acting performances I came up with several centuries ago. Yes, surprise surprise, I'm talking about films again. Sue me.
Anyway, in the vain of that previous article, this time I've decided to go for another honourable mention style roll call.

More often than not, the most memorable thing about a film is it's villain, usually because they do shit we can't, as opposed to the hero who has to be good to be...well, a hero. Unless he's an anti-hero, but that's a story for a different time. We all know the famous ones, from Hannibal Lecter to The Joker to Jack Torrance to...dozens of others. But in between, some great perfomances and some brilliantly written shades of evil have come and gone. Here are ten that escape standard compliations, but are worth a mention.

A pre warning that there are spoilers.

10. Rizza, The Escapist

- "Sorry about your brother"
-"Why? You didn't kill him, did you? He was a junkie, and a cunt. No one liked him..."

One of the hugely underappreciated gems of more recent British film making, The Escapist is prison set story of escape and hope, using a slightly surreal backdrop and significant, though secretive, characters.

And the one who stands out most is the main anatagonist, Damian Lewis's Rizza, who serves almost as a human plot point, at least on paper. He is the big bad, the lord of the manor within the cells, and is untouchable. A challenge for the protaganists to work around, and adding more tension.

But the beauty of Lewis's performance is that he takes something rather indistinctive on paper and turns it into a bizarre, eccentric characterisation. Usually the hero, he delights in fleshing out Rizza as a somewhat camp, effortlessly intimidating cockney crime lord.

There is no back story to set him up as evil and scary, no long monologues or random acts of violence. He establishes himself from the start as the top dog with a straight backed posture, and contemptuous body language towards his fellow inmates. He doesn't threaten with words, he does so with his eyes, which glare with almost unnatural fire. When confrontation does arise, you fear for whoever is in his path, although he has done little. Aside from convince a prisoner to cut off his own thumb, of course.

9. Captain Dudley Smith, L.A Confidential

"What's your valediction, boyo?"

In such a complex, layered story, it makes sense that the bad guy behind the corruption conspiracy is the police chief. Smith's villain benefits from two strokes of genius which make him both highly effective, and the revelation of his true nature a deep shock.

The first is that, while each of the other characters is ambiguous and murky, with their own selfish agendas and dark secrets, Smith is the paternal influence, the charming and respectable senior master who seems to be the film's moral anchor, the one truly good guy. Then it's revealed that he's actually the worst of the lot.

The second is the casting of James Cromwell, fresh off the back of his Oscar nominated role in Babe, a picture of loveable and sympathetic acting. He brings the same amiability to the role of Smith, a smiling, experienced face for the cameras, which quickly becomes deeply sinister and disturbing when you discover he has been hijacking drug networks and murdering innocent civilians to cover his tracks, using the under srutiny LAPD as his own, unknowing, private army.

Although he is significantly tamer than his alter-ego in the original novel by James Ellroy, the film's Smith is a monster, fed by greed and personal ambition, just like the three protagonists. But rather than sneering and taunting his way through, he goes about his business calmly and coldly, never once coming off as anything other than how he presents himself. The good guy.

8. Jack Lint, Brazil

"Information Transit got the wrong man. I got the right man. The wrong one was delivered to me as the right man, I accepted him on good faith as the right man. Was I wrong?"

Speaking of genius casting...

The making of Brazil makes for almost as fascinating a story as that presented in the film, in which Jonathan Pryce's mousy bureaucrat is driven to fantasy in the surreal, anachronistic hell he lives, one part Orwellian nightmare, one part Monty Python horrific overdrive. From studio trouble to legal warfare with executives, it went through it's fair share of controversy and intrigue.

But one of the smaller nuggets of trivia is that director Terry Gilliam denied Robert De Niro the role of Jack Lint...because he had promised it to fellow Python Michael Palin, comedic actor and writer with no serious film roles to his name. It's a brilliant move. Lint is an old friend of Pryce's Sam Lowry, and is a family man working within the Ministry of Information, a cheerful careerist who wears a smile to all occasions...even moments after torturing a civilian for information.

Although he originally seems like a nice, harmless man, Lint is in fact a torturer and the most ruthless of villains because he is not a psychopath with evil plans, but as said, a husband and father so committed to his job that he is willing to sell his soul and commit horrific acts in the interest of promotion. He proves to be both a perfect crystalisation of one of the film's main themes, and also a blood chilling example of the ultimate villain: a good man who does terrible things. Palin brings something another actor would have missed, the contrast which makes it work, because he is so downright polite.

7. Noah Cross, Chinatown

"Course I'm respectable. I'm old. Politicians, ugly buildings, and whores all get respectable if they last long enough"

One of the most highly respected films of all time, and potentially the best written noir of all time, Chinatown is not really a bad guy vs good guy type film, but rather a twisting journey into a rotten apple. But at it's core is philanthropist and corrupt businessman Noah Cross, father of Evelyn, who is another great villain archetype: the succesful kind.

The elaborate conspiracy behind Chinatown's story is the creation of Cross, a mega-rich statesman who decides he wants, nay needs, to be even richer. His motive is pure greed, greed fed by greed. Like all the richest of men, he earns his millions by always wanting more than he needs, and having the power to get it. Such is that power that he can speak eloquently, respectfully and with undeniable seniority, down to the screen presence of John Huston, even in the face of facts that would see a poor man destroyed, namely his tendency towards rape and incest.

In the scenes in which he appears, he seems to be a slightly dottery old man, keen on enjoying lunch in the sun and winding down from a long life, albeit with a dark edge that suggests, rather than dictates, his activities. Off-screen, he is a dark shadow that hangs ominously over the plot and the fate of the characters, and in retrospect, he is a horrific figure. And, in lieu with the film's tone, he escapes without justice. Underplayed by screen legend Huston, and played out in such a matter of fact way to make him seem normal, it's only after the credits begin to roll that you realise an evil man has just been allowed to continue his debauchery. Bummer.

6. Cutler Beckett, Pirates of the Caribbean

"It's just good business"

Venturing into the guilty pleasures section here, POTC is hardly in keeping with the previous film entries, yet the three films do occasionally produce creditable output between the choreographed sword fights, cheesy one liners and wooden acting of sex idols. One of the trilogy's best features are the villains, from the outrageous but hugely entertaining Davy Jones to the sinister lackie Mr Mercer.

But the most threatening, due to his constraint and control, is Lord Cutler Beckett. He is the antagonist in every sense of the term, with intentions as pure as rotting flesh and methods as devious as they are inspired. Rather than indulging in duels and sea battles, Beckett conducts his schemes with carefully placed words and the power of suggestion, manipulating key characters for his own benefits, unfathomable actions met with ruthless and effective results. He wins the second film, robbing the heroes and cheating the main villain, from the comfort of his own office, hundreds of miles from undead sea zombies clashing with perilous brigands.

It helps having Tom Hollander, a classically trained actor, taking such a delicious interest in the part, every word dripping with meaning and ambiguity, attitude confident and arrogant to the point of laziness, but always suggesting something deeper. Zero emotion, zero transparency, conducting his actions in the knowledge that everyone, even the morally upstanding protagonists, have a price. He's a joy to watch, the puppet master behind the curtain, utterly at odds with everyone else in the series, hence a much greater threat. He also enjoys a fairly epic exit from proceedings.


Continued in Part 2...

Rendition - Film Review

Visiting key themes of the war on terror, whether it be the genuine methods exploited by the CIA depicted, or the view taken on torture or the morality of 'intelligence gathering', Gavin Hood's drama-thriller takes a slice of real life, adds a ficticious twist, to deliver a film that is one part 'What if?' the other intelluctual pondering.

Egyptian national Anwar El-Ibrahimi (Omar Wetwally) has been an American citizen for almost twenty years, is a succesful businessman, and has a young family, married to educated Isabella (Reese Witherspoon) and with one son and another child on the way.

But following a suicide bombing in an unnamed North African country, El-Ibrahimi's phone number is found in the correspondence of the main suspect, and as a result he is dragged off his flight home, under the terms of 'Extraordinary Rendition', a CIA project enabling the abduction and interrogation of citizens after they are transported to other nations. As he is being tortured into providing answers, his wife fights to discover what has happened to him, with the help of old friend Alan Smith (Peter Sarsgard), who is now advisor to Senator Hawkins (Alan Arkin).

Meanwhile in the aftermath of the bombing, rookie operative Douglas Freeman (Jake Gyllenhall) is assigned to lead up the American contribution to the investigation, at the behest of intelligence top dog Corrine Whitman (Meryl Streep). In doing so he takes a passive role to local heavy Abasi Fawal (Yigar Naor), who conducts the brutal and unforgiving affair. Fawal is distracted however, as his young daughter Fatima (Zineb Oukach) has flaunted his plans of arranged marriage in favour of a romance with classmate and possible terrorist Khalid (Moa Khouas).

Taking on a series of intertwining, continent spanning stories all coming back to El-Ibrahimi, a political yarn in the style of Babel or Syriana develops, albeit one with a slighly less rigid, matter of fact tone. The characters begin to intermingle, each giving a different perspective on a situation both enduringly hard and painfully believable. Like so many recent Hollywood fare movies focussing on the middle east, and in particular the US's foreign involvement, it refuses to take much of a stance beyond pitting the two sides firmly where they fall, perhaps wisely.

But while the film may flow reasonably enough, with great care taken to balance out the various strands of story, it loses impact in various key scenes due to it's generally ambivalent tone, while its modest running time (considering its format) perhaps takes most from the arc of the characters, who more often than not feel as if they needed more time to make a suitable impact, in turn making the high calibre cast a little distracting to a degree.

As much as Reese Witherspoon may shine in a mould breaking serious role that she excels in, and Israeli actor Yigar Naor catches the eye as an ambiguous high ranker, you have other actors at the top of their game given insufficient time or material to really make the most of their talents, such as Meryl Streep (who postures and snarks, but rarely connects) and in particular Alan Arkin, who plays second fiddle to Peter Sarsgard and who inhabits a character who seems more like a means to an end. Veteran character actors JK Simmons and Bob Gunton are wasted in disposable roles.

Its compact plot, though branching, also means many events are forced and perhaps not as natural as they could be. In one scene, Witherspoon's character turns away in disgust from Sarsgard's decision to end his enquries, despite him having taken enormous career risks in helping her, which feels like a bum deal for the character and a mishandled move to remove him from proceedings. The motives of Jake Gyllenhall's Freeman are questionable at times, and a little convenient, though for what its worth he carries the part well, smoothing over the cracks so to speak.

But the biggest flaw is the Fatima and Khalid subplot, which feels like it's from a different film and lacks enough depth to give it the impact it deserves and is capable of. This feels particularly true at its conclusion, the film's only break from it's conventional style. Well acted? Sure. Poignant? Nearly. Fitting? Not at all. Its arguable that with a differing approach to the piece, it could have worked better, but as it stands it contrasts so sharply with the other two main plotlines that it becomes jarring and a flat note. Whether Kelley Sane's screenplay originally catered more to this isn't clear.

Had Rendtion been less dry and less formulaic in its approach, it could well have stood out more from the crowd and made its points more pertinent, such as the unreliable nature of torture or the general hypocrisy that operations such as Extraordinary Rendition pose. As it stands, its painfully in the grounds of mimicking better received and more successful films of a similar nature. I mentioned Syriana before because of it's highly complex and international multi-plot storytelling, which told an occasionally headache enducing tale and for the sake of plausability lost any character. Rendition seems to be torn between the two, going for an emotional punch in a linear, proto-realistic framework. While entertaining, it means it loses points from both sides and slips hopelessly into the realms of forgetable, despite its undeniable merits.

While Rendition is a film 'worth a watch', and does shed some life on a very real and very stomach turning piece of truth, it also fails to make its mind up regarding motive and intention, and is often made to suffer by its own limitations, meaning an uneven and flawed viewing experience that aims for thought provoking and comes out as distracting. Far from excellence, it still avoids any kind of harsh judgement.

6/10

Limitless - Film Review

A what-if pseudo science based exploration in the grounds of a personal drama combined with thriller connotations is what drives Limitless, the new outing from The Illusionist director Neil Burger, a story based loosely on Alan Glynn's The Dark Fields, and asking vaguely philosophical questions in order to find a practical fantasy escapism style caper.

It's a classic idea. Struggling (and I mean deadbeat struggling) writer Eddie Mora (Bradley Cooper) can't even write the first words of the book he's contracted to, has just been ditched by unsatisfied girlfriend Lindy (Abbie Cornish), and lives in squalour. By chance he runs into an old acquinatance, who generously offers gives him a test of a new, unreleased clear pill that increases brain activity. And within a few seconds, Eddie's a genius and more.

The drug that 'pharmaceutical consultant' and former brother in law Vernon (Johnny Whitworth) gives Eddie is named NZT, and it's boast is enabling the body to access 100% of the brain. Soon, Eddie is able to finally make a start on his book, bed his landlord's young wife and generally see the world from far brighter eyes. His attempt to gain more of the pills sees him thrust into a crime scene when Vernon is murdered, presumably for the drug, which Eddie is then able to obtain for himself. With a healthy supply, Eddie changes his life, finishing the novel in four days, making powerful friends and large amounts of money in no time, and even changing his career path to become a hugely prolific stockbrocker, making millions over night and coming to the attention of corportate giant Carl Van Loon (Robert De Niro).

But it's not all clear sailing and speeding in fast cars. Concern mounts as a mysterious man (Tomas Arana) tracks his every move, he experiences blackouts and memory lapses, and gets mixed up with Russian loan shark Gennady (Andrew Howard). Then the biggest blow, the discovery that NZT is far from being a safely sampled medicine, leaving behind it a long list of damaged lives and ailing health, including that of Eddie's ex-wife Melissa (Anna Friel). With shadowy figures battling to get their hands on the little clear pills and Eddie's long term health a concern, it's going to be a hell of a struggle before the conclusion to the fable is reached.

Except it isn't, which I'll come to later. First, the positives. Neil Burger's visual flair here really accentuates the film, from the opening, dizzying zoom style tracking through New York's bustling city streets, to the transition into NZT's bright, high focus. It makes a good effort to establish the change in consciousness, as well as using a style which provides a pacy and dazzling mood. And although he may not be the most charismatic of actors, reminscent of a young Sean Penn, Bradley Cooper is solid enough to carry the film, and pulls off the sudden IQ growth fairly well, with his dizzy and slurring old self a million miles away from the slick suit and sharp words of the rich and rising Eddie. Abbie Cornish too is decent, and Andrew Howard clearly enjoys his role as the scenery chewing Gennady, the film's blunt threat. Robert De Niro is, well, Robert De Niro, so you can't fault his perfomance, in a disappontingly underwritten role. And 'underwritten' is a word that represents a recurring theme here.

Because the biggest problem, as far as I can tell, comes in the form of it's underdeveloped script, and I have to be careful to maintain my 'no spoilers' policy here in ruminating on the film's crux. In retrospect the screenplay has the feel of a fairly good first draft, an ambitious story and intriguing idea, but with an arc that badly needs work and suffers a rudderless feel. And frankly, Leslie Dixon goes far too easy on Eddie, perhaps trapped by the film's voiceover narrative into getting too close to the protagnist, and finding it too tempting to allow him an easier ride than the story demands. Solutions are too simple, the outlook is far too basic, and more unforgiveably plot points are dropped, neglected and hastily cleared up, symptoms of a lack of planning and doctoring. The dialogue may work, but the logic mostly doesn't. The words "too easy" spring to mind far too often. The ending, hasty and abrupt, concludes the film with what, in it's own universe, is an old joke, and with a concluding epilogue which indicates that if you take NZT and stay on it, everything will work out just fine without consequences, which is a cheap cop out and renders the film into little more than enjoyable distraction. Imagine Flowers for Algernon if Charlie just kept getting smarter.

Anyway, this more or less ruins the film's promise (ironically), causing the second half to simply be a minefield of convenience and plot hole sweeping that takes a tantalising idea and relegates it into a 100 minute moderately entertaining fairly tale which ultimately has no point. It's a huge shame, because as I've already touched upon the potential is undeniable, but the film's danger elements turn out to be contrived plot twists, and hints at impending danger turn out to be just as hollow as the piece's message. Scratch hollow, make that non-existant. It's arrogant to try and force the idea of deeper meaning on every storytelling medium, but you at least need something more than swish editing and fashion catalogue posturing. It's narration and chronologically displaced prologue suggest a rise and fall, except there's no fall and the scene in question doesn't turn out to be all that important.

So, as much as I'd love to be gushing right now, I'm actually disappointed, and even the day after watching it I'm still thinking of flaws and missing links. This isn't a film limited by it's own hubris, it's one that wasn't fully cooked when it went into post. With more work on the script, it could have been enthralling. As it stands, it's enough to not make you bored for a small portion of your day. All the more frustrating when it could, in better hands, have been a real gem.

5/10