The Top 5 Films of 2012

Now that we’re at the end of 2012, we can afford to sigh in relief that the Mayan apocalypse hasn’t annihilated the world as we know it and perhaps the nerdier of us can reflect on a year of not just news stories, scandals and Balotellisms but also some more fresh, fine cinema. Consensus so far is that it’s been a poor twelve months of films, but they said that about last year and the year before that, and these proclamations usually ignore the really good stuff. For every Jack and Jill there was a Ted, each Battleship cancelled out by Avengers Assemble.

Anyway, said good stuff. I’ve decide to narrow the list down from the traditional top ten to a more concise top five, both in a futile attempt to avoid wasting your time and also because after picking out the best handful the margins began to merge together and create a blob of titles with no hope of organizing them in a way I’d be happy with five minutes later.

So, here are the best, and here’s to another five such flicks in 2013.

5 - Lincoln

A late addition, so late in fact that the damn thing isn’t released here until the end of January, is the long awaited and miraculously tight ‘Lincoln’, which as the title suggests follows the exploits of America’s most famed president. Rather than go for a full scale biopic, Spielberg’s talky play-like drama instead focuses on Abe’s efforts to pass the 13^th Amendment, the abolition of slavery in the United States. Considering that his nation is four years into a war he could cease by dropping the matter, it’s the harshest of moral and ethical quandaries on the titular leader, a debate internal and external ageing him by the day and has the political powers spitting blood in debate.

Unrecognizable behind immaculate make up and voice pitched to an uncanny mimic of the historical legend, Daniel Day-Lewis leads an phenomenal cast as Lincoln, one that also includes Tommy Lee Jones as abolitionist Thaddeus Stevens, Sally Field as wife Mary, Joseph Gordon-Levitt as son Robert and David Strathairn as Secretary of State William Seward. Uniformly superb, the supporting act are the perfect foil to a truly immense portrayal by Day-Lewis, who tones it down and creates a distinctive but wholly authentic and believable characterization as the great man. 

A brilliant screenplay from Tony Kushner (condensed from a treatment covering his whole life) imbues class in the dialogue and even makes room for humor, mostly delivered by Lincoln’s fondness for storytelling and the partisan tactics employed by James Spader’s political fixer W.N. Bilbo. It’s mostly dramatic, however, and never dry while also carefully navigating potential hokey sentimentalism and schmaltz. Great ideals and notions are conveyed without preachy idealism and blind patriotism, instead relying of pragmatic realism and duplicitous means to justify righteous ends.

Taut and at times hugely exciting despite its static environment and lengthy conversations, Lincoln is also Spielberg at his most uncharacteristically modest, to the point one forgets he is behind the camera until John Williams’ perfectly placed notes strike keys of recognition in your eardrums. Giving platform to the actors to recite poetry in motion and bring their own gravitas to history, Spielberg’s respectful approach pays dividends and creates the best possible tribute to a great legacy. 

4 - The Dark Knight Rises

Such was the enormous hype storming towards the conclusion to Christopher Nolan’s Dark Knight Saga, both from the sheer weight of fandom and anticipation created by a skilled marketing campaign, that The Dark Knight Rises was always fighting battles. Critically speaking, the film was placed as high as it could be before release and spent the viewing frenzy being pushed back down to earth. Ignore the buzz, however, and you have something quite special, perhaps the most emotionally charged blockbuster of all time.

Retired for eight years following the death of Harvey Dent, Christian Bale’s Bruce Wayne is thrust back in to the deep end and forced to confront his darkness and demons when a new reign of terror assaults Gotham City, led by feared masked wearing mercenary Bane (Tom Hardy) and preaching doom with talk of revolution and uprising. Out of shape and out of his depth, the Batman is broken and dropped into hell on earth and faces the greatest battle of his life to rebuild himself, return and save his beloved city even if it means his death. Luckily, he has a few handy friends and some impressive toys to help.

Beyond it’s incredible set pieces, with the opening plane crashing prologue and first hero versus big bad clash most notable, The Dark Knight Rises takes the trilogy back to its routes and delivers on all fronts as it wraps up one man’s incredible journey and gives it the most satisfying, exhilarating and tear drawing conclusion possible. Though it is festooned with minor issues causing gripes, the slow paced first act is not one of them and the devotion to the main character’s arc, a priority ahead of Avengers Assemble style hijinks, shows not only the love held by Nolan for his saga, but also a healthy respect for the emotional intelligence of the audience.

Great work by Bale, Hardy and particularly Anne Hathaway in a memorably enigmatic incarnation of Catwoman top a fine cast handling strong material well and again treating the story as a serious one, not so much comic book thrills as modern day fairytale, and Hans Zimmer’s soundtrack is one of his finest to date. A huge scale, full throttle cinematic giant of a motion picture, The Dark Knight Rises proves to be the perfect end to a sensational trilogy and was easily the film’s best and grandest action film.

3 - Looper

2012, it turned out, was a truly good year for Joseph Gordon-Levitt. Not content with strong supporting roles in each of the previous two entries, he re-teamed with Brick director Rian Johnson to highlight his leading man chops in Looper, mind-bending science thriller-drama hybrid extraordinaire, and proved himself to be one of the hottest properties in Hollywood. It is 2044, and time travel will soon be invented. Due to the high tech policing of the future, the mob send prospective victims back through time to be dealt with by assassins known as ‘Loopers’.

One of said loopers is Gordon-Levitt’s Joe, happy to execute anonymous souls until one day the 2074 version of himself (played by Bruce Willis) arrives, and Joe’s hesitation enables Old-Joe to overpower him and then escape. Facing the wrath of his bosses and the threat of earth shattering time paradoxes, Joe naturally goes on the hunt while hunted but ends up on the defensive due to Old-Joe’s dark plans. Despite sounding like a gimmick on incredibly fast and thrilling wheels, Looper draws its biggest surprises and quality from its depth.

Showing the same flair for handling extraordinary circumstances as he did in Brick, Johnson takes a show pony of a concept and births from it a strong story that also takes in mutants, loss and great levels of growth and development as Joe cooks up an ambush that leads him to single mother Emily Blunt’s rural farm and further complications. Dismissively taking care of the machinations of time travel, Looper instead focuses on the more important implications of the technology and somewhere within finds the time and space to indulge in a richly constructed, ultimately poignant character study.

Gordon-Levitt, caked up in Brucey make-up, is sensational as Joe, not only delivering an uncanny impersonation of Willis but also bringing a humanity and distinctive identity through the charade, a truly incredible accomplishment and performance. Great scripting, as one would expect from Johnson, is allied to a confident and composed director taking highly original steps while creating his Blade-Runner-esque near future, something which nearly turns the environment of 2040’s Kansas as the wild west and organized crime goons as gunslingers. A breath of fresh air and impossibly deep slice of high concept storytelling, Looper was the year’s surprise classic.

2 - The Master

You always know what you’re going to get with Paul Thomas Anderson; off-kilter, odd-ball and intimate pieces focusing on the stranger members of the human race. With The Master, the voyeur delivered this formula in a complexly brilliant outing that was his best since Magnolia, and possibly his most successful film to date. After the end of the second world war, dispirit drunken drifter Freddie Quell (Joaquin Phoenix) leaves the navy and follows a meandering path towards self-destruction and chaos before an alcohol soaked excursion on to a private yacht leads him to self-educated cult leader Lancaster Dodd (Phillip Seymour Hoffman).

Finding a semblance of balance to his existence, Freddie takes to ‘The Cause’ as it is known, adding his brusque and brash qualities to their philosophical movement. His inability to stay off the hooch or reign in his reckless impulses draws seclusion and misgivings from his fellow members, but Dodd remains intent that Freddie stay on. This unlikely double act creates a brilliantly mounted, subtly told dual-character study for two very different figures who find meaning from a bond that is less father-son and more dog-master, as Dodd’s loyalty to his fascinating friend in only matched by Freddie’s to him.

Often hilarious in a wry, dry and observational manner, The Master takes a light and doleful view on a story that could easily have fallen into the trap of dark indictment of cultism and weak minded surrender to quick witted charismatic leadership figures. While Phillip Seymour Hoffman is typically superb in his role as the complex and potentially duplicitous Dodd, it is Joaquin Phoenix who is the real revelation, giving the best performance of his career in method style as the funny but tragically pointless Freddy Quell, existing within his childlike demeanor and uncontrolled mannerisms and sexually obsessed proclivities. He is the most unfocussed incarnation of Id possible, compared to Dodd’s composed but questionable Ego.

Skirting through a long take shooting style which has a loving affection for the wonderfully portrayed characters of show, The Master is PTA at his absolute purest and most effective, handling the 40’s and 50’s set period details seamlessly and casting an eye not on the controversy of religious sects but on the type of person who falls into them, two figures on very different sides of society coming together and united by unlikely means. Fascinating, deep and insightful, it marks Phoenix’s fully-fledged Oscar certainty comeback and was 2012’s most intelligent and nourishing film.

1 - Life of Pi

It seems that any time a novel is described as ‘un-filmable’, a suitably enigmatic director arrives to prove that it is anything but, breathing further creative flavor into fiction seemingly impregnable. Like Fincher was to Fight Club, Taiwanese master Ang Lee takes Yann Martel’s Booker prize winner and finds the perfect manner in which to put it on screen as an astonishing visual experience doubling as an inspirational and insightful story while incased in the finest example of escapism that cinema has produced for years. The results, again, are absolute gold.

Working from David Magee’s wonderfully scripted adaptation, Life of Pi of course tells the incredible story of Piscine Molitor ‘Pi’ Patel, told in flashback as the older Pi (played by Irrfan Khan) recounts his journey to Rafe Spall’s budding writer. Born in his family’s zoo and obsessed with following the creeds of all religions as a hobby, young Pi leaves India with his clan after the decision is made to sell the various animals to fund a new life in Canada. En route by freighter, the ship sinks and leaves Pi marooned alone on a lifeboat with only a small collection of animals for company. Eventually whittled down to a double act of he and a tiger, named Richard Parker, Pi finds meaning to his hopeless existence by training the man eater and forming an unlikely bond which ensures the survival of both.

The sheer spectacle of Life of Pi alone means it is essential viewing, with Ang Lee’s eye for the beauty of all creatures great and small allied to astonishing set pieces such as the defining shipwreck and cameos from various aquatic and land based beasts. One is utterly immersed in the wonder of creation during the sequences charting Pi’s early life in his native India, gorgeous scenery and immaculate mixture of live and CGI animals the best cinema has seen since Babe, only to be simply overwhelmed by the film’s second act sending the titular hero to sea in a soul searching feat of survival. A spirited, vulnerable and memorable performance by Suraj Sharma as the teenage Pi gives emotional heart to an immersive setting that could easily be dominated by the Bengal Tiger sure to feature on many viewers’ fantasy wish list.

While the closing remarks, in which the legitimacy of what we have seen is thrown into question by the possibility of imagination and inspired storytelling covering over the dark and inhumane truth of unseen proceedings, may soil the voyage for some it is perhaps the film’s masterstroke in ensuring Life of Pi doesn’t fall in to the category of disposable popcorn flick. Instead it takes a philosophical edge, one that explores the potential wonders to be found in nature rather than the ugliness within that great blight on the world; humanity, us. A truly enchanting and intoxicating experience, this is a story full to the hilt with courageous faith and subtle symbolism elevating it from one of the most visually astounding films of the century to one of its most heartfelt, loving and ultimately satisfying. A masterpiece of filmmaking both technically and thematically, it soulfully takes the accolade as the 2012’s finest motion picture.

Great Movie Scenes - The Dark Knight Rises: The Climb

"Why do we fall, Bruce?"

Lost amidst the action and chaotic abandon of The Dark Knight Rises' second act is a sequence that confuddled those not accustomed to keeping time in a modern, chronologically un-linear film, one that at its heart is perhaps the purest and most beautiful of a saga hatched out by a man who's devotion to the whole inspires any storyteller failing in their attempts at a quick fix. I'm speaking of the climb, the blockbuster megolith's spark to a climax that sees Bruce Wayne escape his prison and earn freedom sufficient to rise and return to Gotham to face Bane and ultimately save his city.

It's easy to miss, even for the most focussed of fans. After all, we've grown accustomed to seeing Batman simply knocking down the obstacles set in his path by whatever villain has have had the temerity to face him, sometimes with ease and other times by precision thought. But this is his hardest challenge, the grandest of troubles to overcome. And symbolically, it ties back to the very origins of a hero we've seen from the earliest point of his troubled journey. Fans of the action and the epic may very well scoff, but those who have witnessed a modern fairy tale and associated ourselves with a hero's journey will purr in delight.

Think back to 2005, and to Batman Begins. In the very first scene, a young Bruce steals an arrowhead from his friend Rachel and runs away. This would be the same friend's soul who's death refuses him the yearning for a better life years later. The child Bruce falls in to a pit as he tries to hide from her, and lands in the bottom of a well. Above is a circle of light, meagre hope of escape. Ambushed by terrified bats, he is assailed by fear.
 
That is until a hero arrives, his father. He coils down on a rope, holding a hand of rescue to his young son, offering passage from the despair of his own making. A child indeed, Bruce gladly accepts. As he recovers from his ordeal, Bruce learns humility and returns the arrowhead to Rachel, then is nursed by his loved ones, and his father states; "Why do we fall, Bruce? So we can learn to pick ourselves up". By tragic chance, within days his parents are slain, sparking Bruce's crusade for justice and adventure in to the bat suit.

Fast forward years and years. Bruce has been imprisoned by his actions at the bottom of a pit, a prison where daylight reminds him how close he is to life and the world. But nobody is there to save him, the father he dreams of long since dead. His friend, Rachel his dearest, is now gone forever and has spelt the end for his search for happiness. The city he strived to protect is now in the hands of a crazed mercenary, a monster in a mask, engulfed by bitter hate at loss. The dark visage of what he could have been.

All he fears now is dying here, without being able to return to Gotham. And back then, he feared all. But he knows something; the monsters fear him, especially the scary ones. His father may be dead, but the words and the inspiration are not. So he faces the top of that pit again, looks up to the sky and knows he will not be rescued, the reasons for which have put him down there once more. So, inspired by the words of a man who knows the power of fear who doesn't use them, he finds his advantage.

He finds his strength and scales the rocks, climbs upwards to the heaven of choice and life, and ascends towards life. For the second time in his life, he knows true fear, and finds the only escape is to climb towards the day and the earth above him. So he does, and he finds only himself as the last obstace, the doubt that has made his life not worth living. And bats scramble, escape their nest and ambush him...

...He ducks...but then stops, no longer afraid of bats and of mortal creatures. All he fears is death. Somewhere, a child smiles.

Bruce jumps, and graps the ledge on the other side. The prisoners cheer. The man cries. And Bruce finally wins the ultimate battle within himself. Compared to this, Bane and Talia are nothing.

Why do we fall, Bruce? So we can learn to pick ourselves up.

And how.

Looper - Review

There can’t be much doubt that Rian Johnson simply isn’t used to this kind of fanfare. With his third film, after exceptional though oft-unseen debut Brick and warmly received The Brothers Bloom, one of Hollywood’s rising filmmakers blasts into the big time with the ambitious and meticulous Looper, blockbuster plot framing with the character based sensibilities of an indie flick.

Joseph Gordon-Levitt is Joe, a mob hit man with a very specific remit. This is 2047, and time travel will soon be invented, meaning that Joe’s job is to stand in a field outside Kansas City waiting for an individual to arrive from the future, where he can promptly gun them down and dispose of the body. Technological advancements thirty years down the line have made corpse hiding virtually impossible, enabling our protagonist’s morally skewed profession.

There is a snag, of course, as the job is on a set contract; after thirty years have passed, an older version of said looper will arrive at the execution point, to meet the same fate as the other bagged and tagged victims. The inevitable occurs, when Old Joe (Bruce Willis) materializes. But this time things are different; he isn’t hooded or restrained, and is able to outsmart and over power his younger counterpart before escaping. Due to his time paradox inducing mistake, young Joe is now at the mercy of violent mob boss Abe (Jeff Daniels) and his goons, and has to track down and kill Old Joe before they get to him. 

But Old Joe isn’t content to simply sit things out; he has arrived in the past with a mission. In the future, a malevolent crime figure dubbed ‘The Rainmaker’ is wiping out all of the Loopers, and has already seen to his wife. He intends to find the Rainmaker’s infant-self and kill him. Naturally, young Joe must stop him, leading him to a farm housing single parent Sara (Emily Blunt), whose son is possibly the target. What follows is a mind bending, second-guessing chase thriller with plenty of shock twists.

One skill that Johnson has always seemed to possess is his ability to take a core element which, in the hands of a lesser scribe, would be a gimmick, and then run with it and birth a story of great depth and compelling quality. This comes to the fore in Looper, in which the time traveling future self angle isn’t the real focus of the plot or the film’s heart, but merely part of the set up delivering a far more human, intelligent tale. It creates plenty of fascinating situations and game changers, but ultimately serves as a means to an end. The basic framework may be high concept, but the fully fleshed narrative isn’t.

This is helped by Johnson’s superb screenplay, a witty and darkly humorous tome that toys with many of the common elements seen in time traveling stories but never plays them straight, avoiding lengthy conversations and digressional mind blowing theatrics. Certain set pieces, in particular a subplot involving Paul Dano’s fellow gunman and his own future variant, milks the plot maker for all its worth but does so in the interest of pitch black horror and entertainment, not indispensable machinations. Johnson exploits the time travel aspect, he isn’t a slave to it, and the care he has taken with the story is clear to see, with key elements introduced quickly and naturally to serve as well established Chekhov’s Guns that save on accusations of contrivance later down the line.

Showing the film’s pleasingly dysfunctional character, there’s a strong Western vibe that plays throughout, from the showdown at the farm set up to the sneering gun slinger mobsters and use of anachronistic weapons like pea shooters and blunderbusses. Joe may be an assassin for a crime syndicate, but is treated more like a rider for the local outlaws. This infusion of themes and nuances allows for a character driven, cynically logical execution of a fundamentally nebulous concept, showing Johnson’s cool and confident grasp on the material.

Beyond the filmmaker’s superlative handling, we have a film which technically is top class, such as the brilliant visual eye and attention to detail and Nathan Johnson’s excellently tone dictating score, minimalist yet atmospheric. Key scenes go without music and, framed brilliantly, conjure up a level of tension and unpredictability which have you scrambling forward on your seat. Scenes are edited together sharply, including one excellent sequence showing Joe’s life in China after earning his silver during the ‘present’ timeline, his fading from Gordon-Levitt into Willis.

This is another of the film’s glowing achievements. While Gordon-Levitt’s prosthetic make up may take a while to get used to, his performance as a younger version of Brucey is absolutely phenomenal, a subtle and well schooled interpretation and mannered impression (not impersonation) of the screen icon’s many mannerisms and inflections. Right from the opening narration, Gordon-Levitt has Willis’ speech patterns down to a key, an uncanny and spookily effective echo. That’s not to say that his turn is one long mimic, as the rising star is able to imbue the part with heart and honest characterization which makes him a compelling protagonist. The young actor has already described Looper as the best thing he’s worked on, and by extension it’s probably his best display to date.

Though he could just as easily play himself and coast through the film, Bruce Willis turns things up a notch and shows the acting smarts he possess which rarely shine through in more brainless fodder, bringing embittered and cynical fatalism to Old Joe reminiscent of his career best form in Twelve Monkeys. Strong performances from Emily Blunt, suitably unglamorous and conflicted here, and impressive child prodigy Pierce Gagnon as the mother and son duo bring much needed depth and complexity to an arc which on auto pilot would have aimed for sentimental exploitation. Gagnon in particular is funny and startlingly intelligent as young Cid, the best child performance seen on screen since Hunter McCracken in last year’s TheTree of Life.

While lazy generalizations and misleading blurbs may push you towards Pusher with the expectation of no holds barred sci-fi thrills, you will undoubtedly come out of Rian Johnson’s latest and greatest marveling at the sight of a filmmaker breathing life and smarts into a tired trend and ultimately putting forward a distinctive and memorable viewing experience that transcends various genres and cinematic niches. Intelligent while incredible, haughty but heartfelt, full throttle yet thoughtful; Looper is blockbuster filmmaking at its stylish, nuanced and spectacular best.

9/10

 

Prometheus - Review

33 years and plenty of hushed talk after the series’ nucleus, Ridley Scott finally returns to the world of xenomorphs and interstellar terror with the hyped and hotly anticipated Prometheus, prequel to Alien and a film ditching claustrophobic thrills for near biblical levels of creationist exploration theory and an origin story for humanity.

In the year 2093, archaeologists Elizabeth Shaw (Noomi Rapace) and Charlie Holloway (Logan Marshall-Green) lead a multi-billion dollar expedition to the far side of the galaxy after discovering a series of pre-stone age cave paintings suggesting at the source of life on Earth. With the posthumous backing of philanthropist Peter Weyland (Guy Pearce in old man makeup), the spaceship Prometheus arrives at the star system’s only life sustaining moon, and the crew (including Idris Elba’s captain, Michael Fassbender’s resident android David, and Charlize Theron as company baton wielder Vickers) quickly set about an ancient temple-like underground structure.

Given what genre we’re dealing with, things will not go according to plan, and that’s not taking into account the plans we’re not aware of. Rather than a place of worship, the temple in fact seems to be a cesspool for a strange alien lifeblood, one that doesn’t take a liking to contact, as indicated by the dead humanoids they find on sight, apparent ‘engineers’, and by the series of fatal events which sees the ship’s crew dwindle and the intention of the life hosts revealed as malevolent. Cue race against time to stop apocalyptic end game and plenty of backstabbing double play.

While taking the dead ‘space jockey’ from Alien and playing it into a much denser back story of 2001 style ambition is certainly a great concept of re-imagination and exploration, there’s just the slightest sniff of desperation about Ridley Scott coming back to the cultural phenomenon he birthed. This certainly becomes apparent in light of his recent body of work, a series of underwhelming fare high on visual appeal but low on compelling depth. By stark contrast, Prometheus is a film certainly great to look at but trying to do far too much without necessary clarity in a relatively short time frame.

The result is a film which feels, especially by the end, incomplete. Given that Scott is the granddaddy of Director’s Cuts, this shouldn’t really come as a huge surprise, but the lack of buzz around some kind of huge extended version suggests we shouldn’t get our hopes up. The viral marketing campaign, focusing on Weyland’s launching of the star searching enterprise, is as good as teaser material when you consider that the loose ends left hanging don’t come from a lack of platform for the events of the film, but from within the events themselves.

Like his previous work Robin Hood, Prometheus clearly suffers from writing room rigmarole. A quick look back at the project’s history confirms this, with the infamous Alien Harvest concept cannibalized to incorporate a more cinematic and standard sci-fi thriller drafted by two independent writers, original scribe Jon Spaihts and then Lost show runner Damon Lindelof. A lack of balance in the script comes about from this, as too many elements clash and fail to gel, while scenes bounce into each other at high speed with a lack of natural pacing or flow.

That’s not to say that Prometheus isn’t enjoyable, it’s just tragically wasteful and something of a let down. Of the cast, the more interesting characterizations too often put on the backburner for less satisfying pseudo-science and attempts at archetypal scares. The most memorable character is Michael Fassbender’s synthetic David, a nuanced and mannered artificial person modeling himself on T.E Lawrence and thinly disguising his ulterior motives behind a veneer of composure and politeness. His scenes are often the best, while Charlize Theron is similarly impressive as the equally ambiguous Vickers, a cold and cynical presence who you just know is set to pose problems. Ironically, given his reputation for not putting stock in his actors, Scott is able to frame both characters stylishly and effectively.

Not so the rest, sadly. While she is undoubtedly a quality actress, Noomi Rapace is not given much to do other than action girl protagonist shtick and her character is badly underwritten. Her in-film lover Holloway, played by Tom Hardy look-a-like Logan Marshall-Green, is also inconsistent in his handling, while Guy Pearce’s casting just comes across as strange given the circumstances (he never appears in his normal guise, only dressed up as a 103 year old) and excellent actors such as Idris Elba and Sean Harris are wasted on bland plot-pushers.

The lack of clear reasoning within the story is ultimately what sabotages the good work Prometheus is trying to pull off however, with motives and revelations reached for no visible reason and undercooked plot elements stinking of contrivance. One egregious twist in the second act in particular lacks any logic, and has the viewer question why such clandestine shadow play is necessary when it has no bearing on the plot. For any hope of resolution to these multiple hanging questions, one must look to deleted scenes.

So in short, Prometheus is a film that aims high and fails to hit its haughty and ambitious marks, striving for something more than it can achieve. Elements within the film suggest potential for more, but frankly it has to settle for being entertaining and distracting rather than compelling or memorable on any level; Ridley Scott’s greatness-free rut carries on, a backwards step for inspiration proving just to be a backwards step for reasonable fare.

7/10

Headhunters - Review

When things are hot, they’re really hot it seems. Continuing the trend of high caliber Scandinavian exports (and naturally already billed for an American remake) comes Morten Tyldum’s Norwegian hit Headhunters, a viciously unpredictable thriller based on Jo Nesbo’s novel of the same name already garnering something of a cult following in Western media.

Diminutive Roger Brown (Aksel Hennie) is a slick hotshot leading a double life of desperation, a successful corporate head hunter spending well beyond his means to lavish riches on his glamorous wife Diana (Syvonne Macody Lund). To maintain his decadent lifestyle, Roger happens to steal highly valuable pieces of art in his down time, often from prospective recruits.

This reckless pursuit catches up with him when he encounters highly esteemed business honcho Clas Greve (Hollywood Dane Nikolaj Coster Waldau), a former Special Forces soldier turned CEO who just happens to possess a priceless painting believed lost during the Second World War. Seeing the chance of a life time, Roger cannot help himself. But he quickly regrets it as Greve strikes back and sends him into a head spinning fight for his life, a battle of wits and wills he’s not cut out to win.

Unashamedly putting stylized thrills before grounded substance, Headhunters gains most of its plus marks in the pure entertainment stakes, playing with the audience’s expectations and often dumping them into the same unknowing quagmire as the unsympathetic protagonist. There’s no denying that the often farcical plotting and suspense filled chase are a joy to watch unfold, often reminiscent of a shaggy dog story while also proving to be reasonably thought out and planned with a series of well hidden Chekhov’s Guns and idle foreshadowing.

 

The tone of the film does, however, mean that while we certainly enjoy the action we never particularly engage with it on anything other than a visceral level. Much like in David Fincher’s The Game, each plot twist or set piece, such as a car crash or sickly hiding place, gives fuel for fun but no for any kind of emotional journey that is being undertaken. While Roger is a haughty force brought down to Earth by events out of his remit, it’s hard to really care that he’s being brutally squeezed since he’s unapologetically unlikable from the first moment, despite Aksel Hennie’s fine work.

This cheerfully amoral stance comes back to bite the film’s own rear when things start to become more personal, meaning that an emotionally charged showdown is mostly wasted on viewers by this stage more interested in knowing what spanner will be thrown in the works. It also doesn’t help that the main motivation for the deadly game of cat and mouse is barely exposed, revealed by a single line of dialogue at the end of the second act and never fully elaborated on. Throw these elements together and you have an endgame lacking in intensity.

That’s not to say that it doesn’t work, of course, and the final few gambits to tie everything together certainly please as the rest of the piece did. Though he’s wasted in terms of characterization by a modest running time and lack of real development, Nikolaj Coster Waldau is a strong presence as Klas, an authentically intimidating villain, and Syvonne Macody Lund puts in a subtle turn as wife Diana, bringing a bit more reality to proceedings tied up in the slapdash.

But ultimately, Headhunters is a film that aims, above all else, to entertain and engross as a thriller, and certainly does so throughout its brisk length. It’s simply a shame that a little more substance couldn’t have been mixed with the seductive style.

7/10

Fish Tank - Film Review

While it seems that every week the British film industry trundles out its latest urban despair story, lately heading more into gangsta wannabe culture and hollow shells, occasionally a tale worth spinning makes an appearance amidst the uniform gloom. Case in point, Andrea Arnold’s Fish Tank, a suitably dysfunctional coming of age flick aimed at all the right marks.

Council estate wildcat Mia (Katie Jarvis) is a listless, aimless 15 year old with too much time, angst and anger on her hands, taken to blow ups with friends and pointless fisticuffs with strangers. Days toiled away on cheap cider and unfocussed motion are changed, however, when her inattentive mother (Kierston Wareing) gets a new boyfriend, the dangerously charming and charismatic Connor (Michael Fassbender). Womanly curiosity piqued by his Irish brogue and eccentricities, Mia forms a bond with Connor and through him begins to channel her energies into her only passion; dance. But, given the dysfunction around them, and her particularly destructive behavioral traits, it’s only a matter of time before things start going wrong…

It’s not hard to notice just how much of herself Arnold has poured into this slickly moving, no frills piece, which serves almost life a semi-autobiographical study in cynical ascent to adulthood and responsibility. Each scene passes with an almost daunting level of authenticity, dictated by the irrational actions of people with little to be rational about and stuck in a constant cycle bereft of incentive. When it comes time to escape, Mia ironically is able to make the trip because of the very same raw animal determination which had previously been her anchor.

That’s not to say that Fish Tank is an arduous slog through repetitive, depressive realism. While the protagonist’s life, aptly described by the title, is certainly not a fountain of joy, it still holds a degree of warmth that she has simply outgrown. And the arrival of Michael Fassbender’s Connor certainly injects more fun into proceedings, a childlike glee from little things like car journeys, nice music and fishing trips. When things take a more serious turn, there’s a degree of regret that the more innocent times have passed.

 

The very fact that such a sentence can be used to describe the narrative flow and tone of a film with the content on show is a glowing testament to Arnold, who manages to convey a huge degree of humanity and empathy with a minimum of fuss or visible effort. And, through her words, Katie Jarvis gives the film its spiky emotional core. An amateur and non-actor, Jarvis certainly isn’t mannered with her performance, but the genuine spark visible from first glance is clearly very real, and very beneficial. She is Mia, in essence, for better or worse, fragility barely hidden by crude demeanor and cruder tongue.

On the more finessed front, current Hollywood star Fassbender is equally outstanding as Connor, another honest and ambiguous turn from an actor reveling in excellent, often funny and witty material. While our opinions as viewers may vary on his motives or morality, they will not ask questions one could only put to a person of fiction. It’s this degree of realistic characterization, the kind that allows us to form judgments rooted in reality, which makes Fish Tank shine while other similar fare fail to ever really register.

Don’t expect Billy Elliot-style uplifting emergence, but by the same token there’s no sense that the slog is futile. Taking in real themes of escapism and borrowed optimism, Fish Tank’s core is one open to improvement and taken to leaps of faith in search of greater things, something that Mia learns the hard way. To make one’s life better, you have to take a step and take inspiration from even the darkest of personal events. Even somebody stooped in gloom should be able to appreciate that.

Moving along nicely and displaying a flair for non-flashy heart of character and passion that permeates deeply, Fish Tank is a classic both in its genre and on its own two feet, led by a memorably real leading turn and a filmmaker at the height of her powers, standing confidently on her own turf. A must see.

9/10

Biutiful - Film Review

A trademark of Mexican director Alejandro Gonzalez Inarritu’s body of work is a lingering feeling of melancholy, unresolved sadness, that while running through each story never becomes the predominant tone. In other words, on paper it may be depressing, but in practice it is something somehow more hopeful.

Case in point is his 2010 drama Biutiful, an expansive personal story following the final days of Uxbal (Javier Bardem), a Catalan single father to two children of small means, resorting to petty criminality and fixing with his brother, as well as occasional work as a psychic, in order to make ends meet. His already Spartan life is given an expiration date when he is diagnosed with untreatable prostate cancer, while the ugly side of his profession rears its head with a pair of tragedies lumbering more guilt on his shoulders. Overburdened and facing mortality, Uxbal must bring his affairs to a close and insure his family will live on beyond his passing.

Playing out more like a novel than a motion picture, Biutiful not only gives a warts and all character study for a desperate, conflicted man but also goes into literal depths with those around him. This includes rounded portrayals for his duplicitous brother Tito (Eduard Fernandez), the Chinese sweat shop owners (Taisheng Chen & Jin Luo) who Uxbal is in coercion with, an illegal immigrant couple (Cheikh Ndiyae & Diaryatou Daff) from Senegal doubling as family friends, and the protagonist’s estranged, bi-polar wife Marambra (Maricel Alvarez).

Subplots that in most films would serve as quick cut conflicts for the anti hero are here explored for what they are, unsavory slices of life aimed at the film’s focus of fractured, un-glossed humanity. While the flip side of this immersive depth and detail is a slow, contemplative pace, it also serves as a looking glass perspective on the kaleidoscope existence of one man’s life. Uxbal, while far from an admirable subject, is not judged by the film’s story but presented as is he is, objectively and intimately.

 Providing sympathy for a morally ambiguous character isn’t a cheap process by exploiting the presence of his two young children (played with aplomb by Hanaa Bouchaib & Guillermo Estrella), but rather with a refreshing honesty and, above all else, a wonderful central performance by Javier Bardem, who received his second Oscar nod for his meticulous and committed turn. Engaging and interesting, his Uxbal is totally authentic as a real man facing very real problems with all the strength and inner inspiration he can muster.

He’s backed by the uniformly superb cast, each underplayed with suitable restraint and subtlety, with the exception of the appropriately nuclear Maricel Alvarez, who’s own inner conflict is portrayed as damaging but not irredeemable. Redemption itself plays a part in the film’s subtext, but is kept there firmly by Inarritu’s close control of the narrative’s direction. This is not a heart string pulling weep fest aimed at cheap sentimentality, and delivers its emotional power through turn of event and not exploitation.

While this does mean a degree of dissonance in viewing, a barrier between audience and characters, it also respects said viewer’s intelligence and moral mileage sufficiently to let you present your own conclusions, whether they be as cold or empathetic. Similarly, certain story points are presented but not milked, such as Uxbal’s apparently legitimate ability to speak with the dead, a crux that could easily have been the film’s major focus. These are all strands, in essence, towards one modest but compelling tapestry.

It is a tapestry, in fact, which doesn’t simply dump you into the doom and gloom that would seem logical, but instead somewhat closer to a state the title misspells. Fully atoning for one’s misdeeds may not be possible, but shelving one’s pain for the happiness of those more important and averting the sins of the past really is a redemption worthy of hoping for. And, with Bardem in this kind of form, Biutiful is a tale worthy of telling, and well worthy of watching.

9/10 

New Town Killers - Film Review

Something of a rarity within a film industry that primarily produces kitchen sink drama and depressingly contemplative drama, New Town Killers takes Hollywoodian action and suspense and places it firmly in the heart of Scottish culture, Edinburgh in this case. It follows young Sean MacDonald (James Anthony Pearson), an unemployed tenement dweller struggling to get by with his house-sharing sister Alice (Liz White).

Things inevitably turn for the worst when it emerges that Alice owes £12,000 to a crime syndicate. No sooner has Sean discovered this than he receives a Faustian bargain from the mysterious Alistair (Dougray Scott). He wants to play a game; if Sean can run and hide from Alistair and his accomplice (Alistair McKenzie) for twelve hours that night, he will receive the money needed to pay off his debt. Unable to find an alternative source of funds, Sean reluctantly agrees...but soon discovers just dangerous the chase really is.

Though refreshing in terms of genre and style, genuinely suspenseful and tense for long periods, New Town Killers is a film which, within about half an hour, begins to raise eyebrows more than it does heart beats. While it clearly aims to deliver the same level of thrills as a mainstream blockbuster, or at the very least a respectable actioner, Jobson’s expert direction is overshadowed by the large gaps in logic within his script and story.

 For every carefully executed, and impressively effective, set piece during the bounty hunt, there is a bizarre contrivance. While entertaining at face value, the film loses much of its credibility by never really caring enough about its own story. During much of its length, certain hints and nods seem to be being presented to us, suggesting a huge twist or a monumental event, which duly doesn’t show up, while the under-developed and frankly obnoxious antagonists seem to possess superhuman levels of smarts and complete control over their surround, traits which are never justified in-story.

Dougray Scott, hamming it up to high heaven with little more than an iota of his talent being worked, plays a character that would appear to a commando-like figure, but in fact is proved to just be a psychopathic banker. And worse still, he’s a psychopathic banker with no real motivation. The final denouement for his character, an un-reveal of sorts, attempts to be chilling and horrifying, but instead is anti-climactic and a cop out. Villains need to be interesting in their own right before they can be manipulated into carrying out illogical acts. The understanding that the ‘chaser’ has been doing this for a long time is utterly absurd in light of the fact that he has no particular skills or connections to avoid ever being caught or killed.

 Similarly, the protagonist Sean’s indestructible body is a source of concerning distraction and perhaps even misdirection. On three different occasions, he leaps to the ground from a great height, and viewers expecting to hear the crack of his legs breaking are duly baffled when he gets up without even a flinch of pain. A severely agonizing injury picked up in the film’s climax is quickly forgotten about, and even when he does end up in hospital he sneaks out with no indication of hurting. The belief that such things can happen because this is fiction is entirely a fallacy, and a lazy way to get the character out of a tight situation when a little logical deduction would have reached a far more satisfactory, merited conclusion.

While ultimately hollow and based on a screenplay that badly needed some serious redrafting work, New Town Killers does at least boast some positives. As already mentioned, Jobson shows real flair and talent when it comes to racking up the tension, and there is taut, fast paced entertainment to be had from the hunt. He also uses his city well, with Edinburgh’s distinctly historical look well exploited and locations chosen well, creating a great backdrop to the story.

 In the acting department, Control’s James Anthony Pearson is excellent as Sean, displaying genuine fear and emotion as the squeezed protagonist, although noticeable slips back into his native Rochdale accent can be distracting. Liz White, playing Sean’s sister Alice, and Charles Mnene as his friend Sam, are also exemplary, giving natural and convincing performances. Dougray Scott, as already mentioned, coasts through proceedings with natural cool and sinister glares but clearly, and sadly, doesn’t invest much in the material, while Alastair MacKenzie, as the villain’s colleague, seems to be giving a decent conflicted turn which is lost underneath a pointlessly put on English accent, making one wonder why a Scottish actor in a Scottish set film would play their character as English when there doesn’t seem to be any call for it within the story. At least Pearson has an excuse.

Where New Town Killers really hits a nerve, however, is that there is no reason why it can’t be any better than it is. An attempt to throw in some subtext about class snobbery and social divides is commendable, but also half baked, and has no bearing on anything other than referencing the fact that the antagonist is poor while the protagonist isn’t. Likewise, the film seems to be heading down an interesting avenue, then turns away and promptly peters out into disappointment. With a little more thought and investment, it could have been both highly watch-able AND intelligent. My listing of the film’s plus points that way wouldn’t be an attempt to offer a consolation prize.

However, unfortunately it isn’t better than it is, and what it is is an occasionally decent but ultimately wasteful and flat movie-going experience of wasted potential and little real re-watch value. Perhaps worth a look in, but one might just despair at the lack of sense on screen.  

 5/10 

The Dark Knight Rises - Film Review

Drawing to an end an insanely successful trilogy, both commercially and creatively, is Christopher Nolan's The Dark Knight Rises, the emotionally charged finale to a seven year saga that has forever redefined the Batman legacy and the comic book genre. That it is one of the most ferally anticipated films of all time is little surprise.

Eight years after the Joker's campaign of terror and Harvey Dent's descent into madness, Gotham City finds itself in an unfamiliar state of peace. 'Retired' from his double identity as the Batman, Bruce Wayne (Christian Bale) is now a recluse, living out of the public eye within a wing of the newly rebuilt Wayne Manor, and allowing trusted confidants Alfred (Michael Caine) and Lucius Fox (Morgan Freeman) to run his business affairs. Such is the serenity that the Mayor plans to get rid of the seemingly paranoid police commissioner, Jim Gordon (Gary Oldman), in the belief that the bad times are over.

Enter Bane (Tom Hardy), universally feared mask wearing mercenary and terrorist leader, who exploits the lax attitude of Gotham's higher ups to build up an underground army within the city streets, and forging faustian alliances with various corrupt stokebrokers, his motive seemingly financial. When Gordon witnesses this growing force personally, and the need to act becomes apparent, Bruce finally puts the suit back on and fights off the attention of the Gotham PD in a bid to take down this new threat to the city. It is a hopeless cause, however, as Batman underestimates just how powerful, and how duplicitous, his enemy truly is. He is quickly overwhelmed.

Crippled and imprisoned, he is forced to face the same plight his nemesis once took, all while witnessing the chaos Bane inflicts on his cherished metropolis, holding it hostage while driving the people to privation and revolution, truly the greatest ever threat to its existence. Seemingly beaten, Bruce must rise and return, and aided by fellow vigilante Selina Kyle (Anne Hathaway), influential businesswomen Miranda Tate (Marion Cotillard) and determined, Batman-phile cop John Blake (Joseph Gordon-Levitt), take up a battle which he surely has no hope of winning. But he must.

After two films in which Gotham City is built up and given a character of its own, Rises sees Nolan gleefully tear it to shreds in astonishing style, with Bane accomplishing the levels of sheer anarchy, chaos and inhumanity underneath the skyscrapers that even Rhas al Ghul or the Joker couldn't bring to fruition. The sheer spectacle of the film is earth shattering, an absolute visual feast. No longer is Batman's charge simply under threat, it is now imploding, slowly being torn apart from within to near biblical degrees. Maintaining his reputation for skimping on CGI, the gritty reality of this wantom destruction creates a brilliant backdrop to a taut, truly epic story. The environment, vaguely remiscent of Escape From New York, adds layers to the foreground plot.

It also hosts some amazing carnage, with action sequences and set pieces at turns thrilling, satisfying and jaw-dropping. Any worries that trailer binges would cause desensitisation to the action can be quickly dismissed, since seeing the statium destruction, or the debut of 'the Bat', takes on a whole new level of adrenaline surging excitement due to the context. The magnificent prologue, an audacious midair hijacking and prisoner grab, is an unforgetable experience in front of a cinema screen. Just when things are looking to go over the top though, they are reigned back in. One chase involving the batpod almost seems unfinessed due to a strict adherance towards, if not realism, certainly pragmatism. Nothing big and shiny exists without due purpose.

But it's the story that Rises' heart beats for, and given that this is the conclusion to a character driven trilogy, naturally the impetus is the final leg of a marathon hero's journey. The film finds Bruce Wayne in bad wear, believeing that his fight is over and that he no longer has a purpose. Beckoned back into the fold, he is pushed, then squeezed, then broken. This time he truly is in his darkest hour, his lowest ebb. And it's from here that he needs to find his greatest strength. While not original on paper, it is marvellous in execution, helped by a great performance from Bale, who brings a whole new pallete for Bruce to play with. Even in Batman Begins, we didn't see such levels of vulnerability, weariness or hopelessness. Various callbacks to his origins, both highly satisfying for a fan and very effective practically, ensure we never forget just how he has got this far. This is coupled by a mood of the end, both for us as viewers and for the characters. The dread in the air, and growing sense of mortal peril, is palpable, particularly during the breathless final act.

Nobody is allowed to let up for this one, with Freeman, Caine and Oldman producing their finest work of the three films, and all of the newcomers impressing. Tom Hardy, a man who is surely a household name by now, is suitably enigmatic and intimidating as Bane, bringing the same blistering energy he showed in Bronson, coupled with a pathos and humour that ensures that he goes well beyond the 'man in a mask' moniker. The voice, much derided, gives him a unique, nebulous identity, as well as a hellish quality.

Despite much concern over her casting, Anne Hathaway justifies her inclusion and does so much more with a complex, layered and compelling turn as Selina Kyle, the never quite dubbed Catwoman. Seductive and dangerous, sharp edged and flirtatious, she never risks comparisons to Michelle Pfeiffer's incarnation, nor does she ever do anything but command the screen. Selina is not some upstart, or an out of her depth wannabe, she's a serious threat, acrobatic and with fighting smarts, a worthy adversary and a vital ally. These aren't informed abilities, it comes from the confidence and assuredness that radiates from her every move. For an actress best known for low key drama and comedy, this is a great indication of huge, versatile talent. Heath Ledger was the wildcard casting choice that paid off royally for The Dark Knight, and Hathaway ensures this becomes something of a tradition in Rises.

Continuing his own Hollywood ascent, Joseph Gordon Levitt is also very impressive as Blake, a determined and street smart beat cop who quickly earns Gordon's attention and a swift promotion. From his first moment on screen, Levitt screams of authenticity with a tougher, more driven aspect than we've seen before. His part in the story is as much as a secondary antagonist as it is a plot chess piece, and Levitt carries such responsibility with ease.

Marion Cotillard is her usual reliable self as Miranda Tate, although its in the final stages that she really comes to the fore, albeit briefly, and to say she is in important figure would be the understatement of the decade. Nolan also makes sure to tone down the 'load and loads of characters' trope that was prevalent in Rises' predecesor, a neccessity given the full throttle drive that the story takes up after a slow burn beginning, although there is room for a couple of surprising, delightful cameos from familiar faces.

Although he has a portfolio packed with classic soundtracks, Hans Zimmer is on the top of his game as he takes up solo duties (James Newton Howard drops out), and the score behind each scene in Rises is possibly his finest work, notably taking different turns from the trilogy's familiar audio beats and helping give the film a very different, very significant tone. Wally Pfister ensures that every frame is a work of art in cinematographic terms, hardly surprising given his well established brilliance.

It's a great shame, in truth, that a film as described as such can have any flaws at all, but sadly it cannot be claimed that Rises is perfect, no matter how tempting it is to try. The term 'plot-hole' is thrown around liberally by many a cynical film fan, and it would be hyperbole to claim that such gaps in logic exist here, however certain contrivances and quick fixes exist, mostly within the dialogue, which occasionally jar, while the big twist in the climax perhaps comes a little late, diluting its impact. The ending, while fitting and supremely handled, could perhaps do with more closed doors and less depicted resolutions.

But notably, many of the criticisms aimed at the film are in fact the complaints which hold little water. The claim, for instance, that the film is too long is a fallacy in of itself, since length is of little importance as long as there is enough story to fill it, and in Rises' case there certainly is. While it may scale three hours, these aren't dwindled with, and any incisions to the plot would have a devastating impact. Simply put, this is a film that NEEDS to be long. And, immerssed in the world Nolan created, you will not notice those many minutes skipping past you.

So ultimately, The Dark Knight Rises is a film of truly superior quality, taking huge gambits with the saga and seeing them pay off handsomely with a near apocalyptic tone of danger and dread, imbueing a fully loaded, high speed piece with dramatic thrills and stunning story arcs. With this, the trilogy closes, and we are done with the best realised Bruce Wayne put on screen, left with amazing memories of the three films that redefined so much.

But, superior is not flawless. As much as I'd love to give Rises a perfect 10, I simply cannot. Instead, I choose to see it as a near-masterpiece, a great, brilliant, unforgetable final chapter that is only a few crucial flaws and a decisive re-write away from pure genius.

Still, with criticism like that, who needs praise?  

9/10

Dark City - Film Review

A mindbending and surreal tour-de-force from Crow director Alex Proyas, Dark City is a hardcore sci-fi high concept  which, despite being mostly forgotten by the viewing public (apart from an avid cult following), still stands tall as an absolute gem from the late nineties, one with all the makings of a sleeper classic.

The titular city is a strangely anachronistic, claustraphobic metropolis that never sees daylight, populated by citizens who on mass are rendered unconscious each and every time the clock strikes midnight. One of said inhabitants is John Murdoch (Rufus Sewell), who wakes up in a hotel room bathtub with no memory of who he is, the only clues to his origin being a suitcase apparently his, and a dead girl in the next room. Receiving an urgent call from mysterious, frantic psychiatrist Daniel Schreber (Kiefer Sutherland), John makes a quick getaway before the arrival of a troupe of sinisterly tall and pale men in period regalia.

Apparently having been the subject of an experiment gone awry, John quickly discovers that he is the prime suspect in a series of murders being investigated by grizzled Inspector Frank Bumstead (William Hurt), and has to act quickly to avoid the long arm of the law and the strange men who stalk him (led by Richard O'Brien's Mr Hand), all while trying to piece together his fractured existence, which apparently includes estranged wife Emma (Jennifer Connelly).

The film noir grounding is soon revealed to be a front, as John finds that a group of unseen, technologically superior keepers are secretly manipulating the lives of the city dwellers when they sleep, and that he now possesses the power to fight back against the dark visitors, who, it turns out, are not quite human...

 Displaying the visual flair and relentless pace that made The Crow such a surprise hit, Alex Proyas here displays a smart and mature sensibility in approaching a story that is, for lack of a better term, nightmarish. The dreamlike quality of the piece, enhanced by a brooding, overbearing atmosphere and a general sense of loneliness and anxiety, is one of the main reasons that Dark City is quickly able to hook you in, dragging your attentive stare towards its various dramatic turns, carpet pulling twists and breathtaking setpieces. Set pieces, incidentally, which have aged well.

While the 'unwitting experiment subject in a rat's maze' plot is so heavily exploited that it deserves its own IMDb page, Proyas is here to able to give it a very original and refreshing spin. The plot kicks off like a hard boiled story from Raymond Chandler or Dashiel Hammett, a man with no identity caught up in a web of intrigue, but this ruse, when flipped on its head, proves to be both entertaining and also excellently handled, a surreal but great interpretation of the genre. In fact, Dark City serves to splice paranoid science-fiction and mythos with said noir thriller set up that, somehow, satisfies both criteria. The film can be viewed as a Lynchian like hour and half long lucid dream put on to film, an unconventional psychological thriller and also as an engrossing sci-fi trip.

Considering its restless pacing, the characters are rushed to our attention, though they are well played by an offbeat, suitably eccentric cast. Rufus Sewell, in a rare major leading role, brings burning intensity and traumatic identity confusion to John, although he often struggles with the rigours of maintaing a rough American accent. Meanwhile, Jennifer Connelly is alluring and innocent as supposed wife Emma, William Hurt provides weary savvy as the disillusioned cop, and Kiefer Sutherland goes off road with an against type and creepy rattish performance as the key to the truth, Dr Schreber (named for a real 19th century psychologist and esteemed writer who was himself committed). Ian Richardson is typically reliable as the stalkers' leader figure, while Richard O'Brien steals scenes as the unsettling and nebulous Mr Hand, who undergoes some radical personality changes after being imprinted with John's intended personality.

 
Stunning in its appearance, gloomy yet poetic, the city with no name is almost a character in itself, taking the trope 'Crapsack World' to a whole other level. Visually speaking, Dark City is an absolute feast, matching such iconic vistas as Blade Runner and Metropolis. While the film may not exactly provide moments to pause and reflect on the sights around us, the impressions left behind are highly memorable, and cinematography is just one of the main technical fields that the movie gets spot on. One of the biggest twists, arriving just before the climax, features a sequence which is positively jaw dropping.

To pack so much into a relatively modest running time is Proyas's greatest achievement here, managing to evoke various philosophical questions and musings while at the same time providing a breathless thrill ride that resolves itself logically, happily and existentially. One second it is able to examine the human condition, questioning what truly makes us who we are, before quickly taking a segue into chase scene action or quiet, contemplative drama. Not a single frame is wasted, quality over quantity, and the sheer energy behind the work is almost unbearable in its tension. Not since Terry Gilliam's Brazil has a film conjured such an overwhelming, heavy sense of madness and humourous despair. That this film did not act as a springboard for Proyas's career (his underwhelming resume since 1998 includes garbage such as I, Robot and Knowing) is perhaps a greater mystery than those presented in the film.

Hugely engrossing in its storytelling, with the kind of atmospherics and underlying tension that huge budgest simply cannot buy, Dark City takes surreal action to a whole other level, wrapped up in beyond our world significance and psychological study while positing as both a noir thriller and sci-fi horror. Starkly original, highly addictive and hugely memorable, it may not be proclaimed as one of the science fiction greats, but it truly deserves to be.

9/10