Holy hype – Avatar’s here. James Cameron’s story of the evil that imperialist military men do and rebels engaging in interspecies bonding (that old chestnut) had to wait 12 years to be made. Depending on which internet rumours are to be believed, this was because Cameron had to wait until the technology was right to make this futuristic spectacle; or because he discovered the script in a draw where it had been left years beforehand and forgotten about; or because he stole it from a time traveller from the future causing such a massive rift in the space-time continuum that we’re all doomed to obliteration in the year 2033. Whatever the case, Avatar is set to blow everything else out of the cinemas this Christmas and keep Cameron’s cellar-imprisoned, money-counting minions very, very busy.
A human base is located on the planet Pandora, populated by the Na’vi – a kind of rack-tortured collection of sexy long-smurfs. The film comes in 3 acts: the human characters are introduced; the alien natives are introduced; and the humans try to blow the living shit out of those pesky aliens who have the gall to inhabit this resource-rich land. The avatar refers to the creation of a group of scientists (headed by the always watchable Sigourney Weaver), who are trying to build a relationship with the Na’vi – the scientists have harnessed a technology that allows humans to take on the alien’s form and infiltrate their race in the hope of negotiation. Jake Sully, a soldier, is placed among these scientists in place of his deceased scientist brother so that they can continue to use his avatar. Sully is a paraplegic who through his avatar finds legs and love. With the power of these, he leads his adopted race into battle against his birth race. Hooray.
The plot is fairly basic and the muddled eco-nonsense is not worth discussing (trees as a life support mechanism for memories, life-bonding with flying lizards, etc.) in a story as unsubtle as this. Cameron keeps the narrative fairly compact to ensure everyone knows who to cheer for and avoids the trap Lucas fell into in his Star Wars prequels of misusing the Force to bore people towards the Dark Side (i.e. sleep).
However, it is in the second act where the film comes to cinematic life as we’re introduced to the Na’vi and their world. Here’s where the wow-factor comes into play as Cameron’s visual imagination and skilful direction take the viewer to places rarely realized in fantasy cinema. The CGI maintains a surprising naturalness and functions well to bring the viewer into the story rather than isolate them from it; as is so often the case with directors of fantasy who become onanist rich monkey-boys with their techie toys – and here Cameron blends all the elements together to create a stunning landscape, populated by a vast array of life beautifully realised.
Unfortunately, in the third act, it all descends into a sense-pounding overlong battle that beats you into submission. It’s a relief when it’s over. Yet, all in all, Avatar is an interesting experience and one people should just let themselves buckle up for.
James Cameron…in 2009…with a budget of $300 million. It could have all gone horribly wrong. It didn’t. In a world of downloading, watching films on ipods, and that evil filth-huckster Michael Bay on the loose; thankfully Cameron has given the masses a good reason to go to the cinema. And they will.
This is quite a dark, brooding little tale, made all the more affective by its simplicity. A young boy, Max (Max Records), disobeys his mother (Catherine Keener) and seeks refuge in a land of monsters who adopt him as their king. The film is directed by Spike Jonze and has been adapted from Maurice Sendak's classic children's story. But whereas Sendak's 1963 book, which was less than 350 words long, was a fable for children, Jonze’s film is more a reflection on childhood for adults.
In the world populated by Jim Henson’s overgrown, mondo muppet-monsters, Max learns valuable lessons about who he is and what he has. This is not a world populated by the usual collection of the cartoonish opposites of the good loveable creatures versus the bad evil pantomime ones. Here we have a mixed bunch of hulking hirsute creatures that you will neither cheer for nor boo. But you will listen to and be moved by them.
Not everyone will be enamoured with what happens in this other world. Most of what occurs on the island, with its dense forests, rolling sand dunes, and swooping cliffs, is random and inconclusive. The creatures, mostly somber and occasionally neurotic, are simply living their lives. In between nothing really happening, Max engages in some contemplable dialogue with the monsters (who all represents facets of himself) and gets the chance to play out his problems with aggression and fears of isolation.
Having said all that, Max is actually quite an irritating spoilt little blackguard at the best of times and there can be little sympathy for him as he rallies against his home life; after all it is quite normal and he has a cushy number there pushing the viewer to annoyance at what he has to rage against, and that really he should be disciplined by having his Wii taken off him and no cookies for a week. But he’s a kid – and kids don’t know if they have things easy or not, for their inexperienced egocentricity means that if something bad is happening to them it’s the worst thing in the whole wide world. And yes, it is a simple message he learns. And let’s not even start on the ending (cringe factor 9).
Yet despite this, the world that exists over Max’s rainbow is a sumptuous one to behold and the film is beautifully shot (in Australia) masterfully capturing both scenes of vast open spaces and claustrophobic tight spaces. Jonze treats it all with a low-key approach and uses a natural palette to bring this world to life.
Jonze has made Sendak’s book his own fleshing out its cerebral musings and opening it up to reinterpretation. Where the Wild Things Are is not what you might expect, as is often the case with Jonze. Nevertheless, it’s refreshing to see such a film that doesn’t feel the need to play for laughs or pander to cutesiness. A kid’s film you don’t have to bring kids to.
If you can forgive Steven Soderbergh the money-grubbing silliness that is Ocean’s Eleven (and counting); then one can only admire his list of achievements in American mainstream cinema. He seems to consciously move from one project to the next embracing their differences without feeling the need to stamp an auteurial brand on them. FromSex, Lies, and Videotape (made when he was 26) through films such as Erin Brockovich, the underrated The Limey and Traffic, to his adventurous, if flawed Che biopic, Soderbergh has consistently proved himself to be one of the most interesting (and prolific) directors around.
This time, Soderbergh returns to our screens with The Informant!, adapted from Kurt Eichenwald's 2000 novel of the same name (minus the exclamation mark!) The film tells the true story of whistle-blower Mark Whitacre, a high-flying executive for AMD, the major agri-business corporation in the American Midwest, and one of the largest companies in the world, commanding a billion-dollar-a-year market. From1992-1995, Whitacre worked undercover for the FBI providing inside information on his employer’s illegal tactics of worldwide price-fixing, which at one point was bringing in $2.5 million in profits in a month.
As the film develops, Whitacre reveals himself to be more than a mere informer as his schizoid storytelling begets a twisted web of intrigue. His initial reasoning for doing what he’s doing is that he wants ‘to do the right thing.’ It’s apparent soon enough that Whitacre’s understanding of ‘right’ is gymnastically flexible.
The film is billed as a comedy thriller, and there are certain funny moments, but The Informant! relies for its success on the ‘I can’t believe he’s doing that’ moments, as Whitacre digs himself deeper and deeper in duplicity as he seems to pursue his own agenda.
Matt Damon puts in a tremendous performance here (his best since 1999’s The Talented Mr. Ripley) as the complex main character, portraying all of Whitacre’s eccentricities without playing them for laughs or slipping into farce. Damon holds the whole thing together with skill and is only really upstaged by FBI agent Brian Shepard’s hair (brilliantly played by Scott Bakula’s hair). The stylish well-paced narrative is backed by a storming jazzy soundtrack, courtesy of Marvin Hamlisch, which matches the twists and turns of this engrossing story. The Informant! is an enjoyable romp made all the more entertaining by the fact that it’s based on some sort of insecure truth.
Lisa Mulcahy’s new Irish comedy film tells the stories of 3 young Dubliners and their problems with work and women. Jesus.
Dave (Diarmuid Noyes) lives with his mother and goes on a succession of white-collar interviews where his imaginative forays spill over into lies in an effort to secure a job and a girl. Vinny (Shaun Dunne) is an unqualified painter who accepts the challenge to get a girl. Tom (Sam Corry)is trapped in a loveless relationship and a dead-end job and bullied in both.
It’s impossible to warm to the central character Dave, who comes across as quite smug and the film falls flat as, by the end, it is difficult to care about him. Vinny’s character is likeable but is under written and one-dimensional, though he does come somewhat into his own at the end. Tom is the strongest of the three and is well played by Corry. His situation is by far the most interesting and shows the most comic potential, which, unfortunately is never realized; and perhaps, if it were developed, there could have been a much better film on offer here.
As it is, Situations Vacant suffers from an uninspired script, clunky dialogue, lightweight characters and an annoying, repetitive soundtrack. For the most part, it comes across like an undergraduate project.
The surrounding characters provide some relief from the narrative that drags along trying to piece its comic set-ups together – Dave’s mother, a creepy social welfare officer, the pub sage. Unfortunately it’s not enough to liven up the tiresome story line that staggers along. There are many problems with the film; the main one being that it’s just not funny.
How this project got any sort of green light beggars belief. The blame has to lie at the feet of the Irish Film Board who funded this muck. Who read this script and allowed it to be made? It seems that a clique is at work here, all thinking that what is going on is hilarious – it’s not. This is supposed to be a funny take on modern day Dublin – it’s not. It’s like someone dressing a dog up and trying to pass it off to you as your Granny.
It’s difficult to have a comedy without central comic figures or situations and the ‘one-of-the-lads’ set of characters cannot bring any light to this dull affair. It’s a shame when an Irish film gets a cinematic release and it’s as mediocre as this. There is plenty of talent out there – it just needs those with the money to get behind the right projects.
