Apollo 18 – the Christmas Blu Ray Turkey

Posted on December 31, 2011 by

Apollo 18 was one of those films that a) I wanted to see at the cinema, b) was sorry I missed at the cinema, and c) was rather relieved I didn’t see at the cinema when I heard what others thought about it. Nevertheless, intrepid as I am, I saw the blu ray this week, after which I could appreciate fully why no press screenings of Apollo 18 had been offered. It’s such a shame, actually. I love scifi movies and not enough films are set on the moon for my liking. The idea of a secret Apollo mission to the moon is such a good one. Unfortunately, it should never have gone further than the launchpad.

Apollo 18 – which does not star Tom Hanks or Kevin Bacon – is one of those found footage movies. The instant trouble with that is that it makes comparison with this year’s excellent Troll Hunter inevitable and that is not a good thing. Comparison with Apollo 13 doesn’t do it too many favours either. In this film we see the recordings made by a team of three who visit the moon (one staying in orbit while the other two land) in 1974 to set transmitters to interfere with Russian satellites.

Because Apollo 18 is billed as a horror, it’s impossible not to look for those creepy moments from the outset – whenever there is interference on the camera or the astronauts enter a particularly dark and cold crater of the moon’s surface where there might or might not lie the body of a dead cosmonaut. Unfortunately, after an awful lot of time building up a crescendo of averted and deflected horrors, the true terror finally hits and… well, it’s just not that frightening. This is the trouble when alien monsters turn out to be rocks. Even when the rocks grow legs and wriggle about.

Once the true horror of the rock infestation is established, the astronauts learn that they are on their own – contaminated. Their efforts to save themselves take on some of the drama of a story that has a little shape to it but, for me, the film failed from the moment in which I saw a rock wobble on legs. Space is infinite in its possibilities. This film lets it down.

The cast is anonymous and interchangeable. There isn’t half the drama of the scene in Apollo 13 when they have to make a square thing fit into a round hole, using nothing more than a sock. On the up side, it’s short. On the down side, it ends with an absurd rendition of We Three Kings.

I want more scifi movies, and I want them filled with wonder and awe and, if necessary, horror. More films like Apollo 18 are less necessary.

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The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo – Fincher style

Posted on December 29, 2011 by

I’ve not been looking forward to writing my review or impressions of the 2011 version of The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo. This is because I haven’t seen the 2009 original (and nor will I) and I have no interest in reading the Stieg Larsson Millennium trilogy on which it and any sequels are based. However, set against that is David Fincher, a director whose recent films have had me spellbound. The Social Network, The Curious Case of Benjamin Button and Zodiac are among my favourite films of the decade. I have Fincher Fangirl credentials. I’ve been lucky enough to hear Fincher speak at the BFI and I’ve seen him on the red carpet at Cannes. I’m looking forward to his interpretation of 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea just as I’ve been keenly awaiting the release of Dragon Tattoo. Despite the fact that it’s not the sort of film I would have seen otherwise. This ‘review’ is very much, then, a personal impression.

Forty years before the film is set, a young girl, Harriet, disappears from her wealthy family home on an island in the north of Sweden. All these years later, her great uncle Henrik Vanger (Christopher Plummer) hires journalist Mikael Blomkvist (Daniel Craig) and computer hacker and investigator Lisbeth Salande (Rooney Mara) to discover whom amongst his relatives on the island was responsible for her murder. Of course it’s not that simple. Blomkvist needs to get away, having just been disgraced in court. Lisbeth is another kettle of fish entirely. Having been judged as mentally unfit to look after her own affairs, she’s the ward of the state and victim to such corruptions of the system that it’s a miracle she has any sanity. For her too, this case is an escape and a means to an end.

The case itself forms the frame for the film and offers the cold, bleak setting of an icy island for its location, but it is only one aspect of the story itself – the fragile and not particularly sympathetic recovery of Blomkvist and Lisbeth as well as their connection with each other. This lack of focus in the plot hampered the thriller element for me. Nor was its solution a surprise.

According to the poster – which I cannot stand – ‘Evil shall with evil be expelled’. I’m not entirely certain to whom or what the second evil refers. I hope it’s not supposed to mean Lisbeth, although the way she’s displayed on the poster, I’m not so sure. Lisbeth is a victim for all her fighting against it and this poster glamorises the predation that has fed off her. Rooney Mara, however, is sensational and completely scene-stealing. I feared for her and loved to see her free on her bike. Daniel Craig as Blomkvist is not as entirely successful. For one thing, he is the only character that I noticed not to be given an accent. Why? Is it because he couldn’t do it? He does manage to put Bond behind him – he can be hurt and he can be killed. It’s always good to see Christopher Plummer.

Dragon Tattoo‘s composer Trent Rezner also composed the outstanding soundtrack for The Social Network. I didn’t need to know that. The music was so similar, and so less good, that I could have guessed. Throughout I was reminded of another, better film.

All this brings me to my problem with Dragon Tattoo. It is a good film and it kept my attention despite its length. It is visually arresting and some of the acting is fine indeed. The opening credits to the wonderful Led Zeppelin Immigrant Song adaptation is fantastic. Indeed, considering the story, which is not my type of thing at all, I liked it much more than I would have expected. However, I have no idea why David Fincher made this film. Zodiac was a far better investigation of a serial killer as well as a completely immersive recreation of a past time and place. Se7en was far more frightening and memorable. The Social Network was extraordinarily original and witty and Benjamin Button was, for me, utterly bewitching and draining. Dragon Tattoo, for all its qualities, is a remake and it will always be compared to the original. Ironically, if it had been directed by someone else, I may have been far less critical of it (that’s if I had gone to see it in the first place, of course).

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Arthur Christmas – what happens when you mix Magic Dust with a flask of Christmas Spirit

Posted on December 26, 2011 by

I may be one of the least festive people I know and, as such, there are very few Christmas movies that can entice me into a cinema – I find elves particularly wearisome, except if they’re Will Farrell. Nevertheless, with the rain torrential and the traffic thunderous, I thought I’d escape the Holiday Mayhem and take a peek at Arthur Christmas. I am so glad that I did. Even the loud cry from the row behind me (‘Mummy, I have to wee!’) did nothing to dampen my increasing enjoyable immersion in a true Festive Gem.

As one would expect from a story about Santa, Arthur Christmas is set at the North Pole, or under it, with the Christmas Eve present-despatch operation finely honed by Santa’s oldest son, Steve (voiced by Hugh Laurie), his S1 spaceship and his elf commandos. Santa himself (Jim Broadbent) is now little more than a rather rotund figurehead who delivers a present or two with a lot of help. However, despite the latest in Christmas technology, a mishap occurs and a young girl, Gwen in Cornwall, is missed. In order to prove that Gwen is not the only child in the world that Santa hates, Santa’s other son, Arthur (James McAvoy), the son whose only experience of technology lies in his choice of flashing reindeer slippers, has no option but to deliver the present himself. Only then can he demonstrate that Santa is the kindest man in the world.

The problem is he has to take crotchety Grandsanta (Bill Nighy) along, a moth-eared Rudolph, a sleigh that goes at a mere 50,000 miles per hour or so, some unreliable reindeer, a sprinkle of Magic Dust, an irritating present-wrapping elf (Ashley Jensen) and phone GPS.

It’s in these characters that you’ll find the love, humour and warmth that make up Arthur Christmas (except perhaps with Grandsanta whom you may want to clobber). There are no baddies – except perhaps a bunch of lions – just a group of Santas who all want to be the man in red. The comedy is non-offensive and very funny indeed – the kids will marvel at the animations but the mums and dads will bellow at the jokes. The imagination that goes into the super technology as well as the lesser technology (for instance disguising a sleigh as a 1950s’ spaceship) is wonderful to behold and the funny sweetness of Arthur is endearing. I did want to hit the elf, mind you. There are humorous little touches throughout and, for sure, Arthur Christmas will stand up well to a second viewing. There is a Britishness about the film too, from its mince pies to Margaret Santa (Imelda Staunton), who reminded me of Meryl Streep in a certain preceding trailer. Then there are the elves in kilts.

Incidentally, I saw Arthur Christmas in 2D and it needed no extra dimension.

Arthur Christmas is so much better than the title suggests. It is far funnier than Arthur’s slippers. It is as warm and cosy as one of Arthur’s horrible jumpers. It is as light and sparkly as the Magic Dust that makes reindeer fly. Do try and catch it while you can.

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Take Shelter – a tedious journey to nowhere

Posted on December 20, 2011 by

Take Shelter tells the story of Curtis, a construction worker in Ohio with a beautiful wife and daughter who begins to suffer nightmares, revolving around terrible storms. Birds fall from the skies, pets and friends turn aggressive and the only refuge is the storm shelter in the garden. Curtis becomes obsessed, reinforcing the shelter by day and dreaming horrors by night while his family and work colleagues worry for his sanity. They have good reason. Curtis’ mother left her children when they were small, finally being diagnosed with paranoid schizophrenia, and since living in nursing accommodation. And so Curtis lives in the middle of two fears – is he mentally ill or is he some kind of prophet? A voice in the wilderness that no-one listens to? Neither is good.

There are several problems with Take Shelter, and it isn’t the acting – Michael Shannon and Jessica Chastain do a fine job as husband and wife Curtis and Samantha. The main issue is that Take Shelter promises much but delivers little. Possibly because it doesn’t know what it is. The film could be the portrait of a man succumbing to schizophrenia bit by bit or it could be the countdown to a great disaster, with only one man knowing the truth. Either of these would have made for an interesting drama but instead, until the final minute, we have no idea which it is and, as such, it fails to engage. It also means that what it has to say about both is meaningless.

In fact, my frustration increased during the second half of the film to such an extent that I anticipated any little twist of the plot. Nothing was not predictable and the ending, when it finally came, was so contrived that its only saving grace was that it was the end.

Michael Shannon and Jessica Chastain are excellent and the relationship of Curtis and Samantha with their deaf young child is moving, but all in all, Take Shelter is such a tedious and dull disappointment. Take Shelter leads nowhere, its air of menace is superficial and unoriginal and its outcome makes a nonsense of what came before. For a study of mental illness, watch Melancholia. If you want to see a film about the ominous threat of annihilation, watch Melancholia.

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Sherlock Holmes: A Game of Shadows

Posted on December 17, 2011 by

Game of ShadowsA couple of Christmasses ago we first encountered Sherlock Holmes in a new disguise – Robert Downey Jr, although not a native of the environs of Baker Street, London, donned the figurative deerstalker and cape and brought a whole new endearing streetfighting quality to Conan Doyle’s much loved detective. No violin playing intellectual, RDJ’s Holmes is more an enthusiastic amateur at disguise than a master of it. His strengths are his fists and his intuition, supported by ingenuity, obsession and a certain characteristic that his beloved gambling chum Dr Watson likes to label as ‘almost psychotic’. Not only that, this Holmes can make us laugh while he saves western civilisation. Thank heavens then that this Christmas we have Sherlock Holmes 2, aka A Game of Shadows.

There are quite a few Sherlock Holmeses out there, from Basil Rathbone and Jeremy Brett (whom I saw on stage in the role and he was mesmerising) to Benedict Cumberbatch’s TV version which is modern in more ways than one. Nevertheless, it is clear that there is room for more than one and Robert Downey Jr’s Holmes has a niche of his own. It may be more about entertaining the crowds than putting the world to rights but he is very good at it.

In A Game of Shadows, Holmes steals Watson (a rare watchable performance from Jude Law) away from his Brighton honeymoon with his spirited bride, to take on his arch enemy and nemesis Professor Moriarty (Jared Harris). The evil Cambridge Professor has taken upon himself the task of lighting the spark of war between France and Germany so that he can reap the profits through selling big shiny state-of-the-art guns. Moriarty and Holmes respect each other, as one would expect from Victorian icons of good and evil, and so Moriarty decides to take his frustration and violence out on Watson instead. This, more than anything else, including the threat to world peace, is enough to push Holmes on to the most extreme of disguises and the most extravagant of plots to put an end to it. There are allusions to the game of chess in the film but in reality there are few subtleties, with both sides preferring to blow the other one up or bring down buildings on their heads.

The strengths of A Game of Shadows (its humour, repartee and exotic locations to name but three) are also its weaknesses. Whereas the first film was novel and exciting, and yet still had a mystery to it, a detective story, there is little of that here. Instead Guy Ritchie just lets it all hang out. There is stunt upon stunt and gag upon gag. Admittedly, some are extremely funny (I need to see the film again just to take a second look at some of them), but there are no puzzles and all Holmes has to do is work out where the next punch (or gag) is coming from.

There are some extremely enjoyable set pieces here as the action takes Holmes, Watson and Moriarty to France and Switzerland. The special effects and historical settings look more plausible than they did in the first, though the danger seems less dangerous. While there is little new here with Holmes and Watson – although Ritchie does rather labour the bromance element – there is the added spark of Stephen Fry as ‘Sherley’s’ brother Mycroft. Fry is exceedingly funny in the role, even if he does get naked, and it’s worth seeing the film just for him – as well as the scene with Watson dancing with the gypsies, of course.

A Game of Shadows is an uncomplicated holiday sort of a film. It doesn’t seem to want to be more than that and so it should be taken as such. In a couple of years we may get another and I’ll definitely see it but I will always remember the first as a standard against which all future Ritchie Sherlock Holmes films should be measured. Judging by A Game of Shadows, that might not be sensible of me.

But when all is said and done, it is an absolute joy to see Robert Downey Jr as Sherlock Holmes again. He makes me laugh and cry and he can dominate the screen as few actors can. There’s barely a pore that doesn’t have charisma oozing out of it. I take my hat off to him.

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TT2D: Closer to the Edge (Blu ray review)

Posted on December 4, 2011 by

TT3DAfter Senna, sports documentaries have much to live up to. Thanks to TT3D: Closer to the Edge (TT2D on blu ray), the standard has been raised even higher. As a biker myself, this is a film I’ve been longing to see – it didn’t disappoint.

The TT bike races take over the Isle of Man for a couple of weeks each summer and have done for over a century, the result of the local relaxed speed laws. But the town streets and mountain roads weren’t built with speeds of 170 miles an hour in mind. It’s well known that bikers are frequently killed and maimed at the TT but it was a shock to learn from this superb film that about 240 riders have died in the history of the event. Throughout this film we’re reminded of the dead. One rider lost both his father and uncle to the course. Everyone knows someone who didn’t make it round. This film covers the 2010 TT and it wasn’t accident free. Not all the bikers came home.

Whether you think these are brave young sporting heroes or irresponsible idiots, there’s no doubt that they are utterly committed to the race. There isn’t a major financial prize for any of the races. There is only glory. Sons follow fathers and those who can no longer do the course, thanks to past injuries, now design engines or act as guides to new riders coming across the circuit for the first time – we’re told it takes three years of racing to learn the corners.

Our eyes here belong to Guy Martin, a young man with the most astonishing mop of hair and sideburns (as mimicked by his many fans), who has yet to win despite standing on the podium every year since the late 1990s. He’s incorrigible, tearing around on his pushbike, always late, regularly breaking the rules, having his bike impounded, once being late because he’d just blown up a friend’s classic bike. His almost unintelligible accent doesn’t help matters. But he provides the perfect window into this world – his dedication and obsession is matched by his charm, cheek and charisma. You can’t doubt for a second that he loves bikes, engines and racing and this passion can’t be tamed, however much his patient sponsor might want to tweak him just a little.

Guy is the racer we follow the most (and fear for), but we hear from others, as well as the fans who travel from all over the world, year after year, to enjoy a biking spectacle. The fact that every year bikers die and are horrifically injured seems to tie them all closer together. We see the wives on the grandstands, some with very little children, and you realise that it’s these women who make the biggest sacrifice of all.

TT2D does not suffer on the small screen. I didn’t see the 3D version and so I can’t comment on that but I didn’t miss it. The camera work is wonderful, following or leading the bikes round the deadly corners at a rate of knots, squeezing between houses, walls and lampposts. Interspersed are clips from the TT’s early days with bikes that wouldn’t have approached half the speeds of the new bikes. Speeding along with the bikes, with music to complement and an unobtrusive commentary by Jared Leto, this is a hugely enjoyable film, packed full of adrenaline, that makes a great partner to Senna.

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My Week with Marilyn – like bathing in a bath of champagne bubbles

Posted on November 25, 2011 by

In 1956, Marilyn Monroe spent a week in Britain filming The Prince and the Showgirl opposite Laurence Olivier, who was also the film’s director. During that week, Marilyn, newly wed to playwright Arthur Miller, was looked after by the director’s third assistant Colin Clark, who was given the task of trying to encourage her to do that most difficult of tasks for Marilyn Monroe – turning up on time to set. Clark told the story of this week in his memoirs and that book, The Prince, The Showgirl and Me, is the inspiration for My Week with Marilyn. Directed by Simon Curtis, My Week with Marilyn stars an utterly beguiling, charming and enchanting Michelle Williams, who comes closer than one would ever have thought possible to capturing the screen goddess, whether in front of the camera or fleeing from it.

Laurence Olivier’s exasperation with his leading lady is well known – Marilyn most certainly added a whole new level of meaning to the word ‘difficult’ – but not unexpectedly everyone falls in love with Marilyn. The young Colin is no exception and, perhaps because of his youth, Marilyn sees him as an ally, a friend who will take ‘her side’ against these powerful and controlling men, Olivier and her husband Miller. The two play truant for a day, escaping into the country from directors, managers, coaches, cameras and adoring fans, all of whom want a piece of Marilyn and demand her love.

My Week with Marilyn is not a weighty drama; there is no deep scrutiny and examination of Marilyn’s fragility (or her pill-taking for instance). Instead, the film is a bewitching portrayal of a legend whose flaws contributed to her being. 1950s’ England is recreated with loving attention to detail, as is the absolute star power of Marilyn Monroe. She is the flame and everyone around her flutters like a moth. Could there have been anyone more famous? No wonder she troubled Olivier so much. The filmset of The Prince and The Showgirl is recreated so accurately that scenes are even filmed in the same studio.

And then there’s the cast. Michelle Williams is superb. She has that glowing beauty and blonde fagility combined with luxurious, sexy curves and then there’s that voice and that wiggle. Kenneth Branagh is perfect as Laurence Olivier, but then he would be. Judi Dench plays fellow actress Dame Sybil Thorndike whose kindness to the film actress, lost amongst all these stage legends, is extremely touching and a wonderful highlight of My Week with Marilyn. Eddie Redmayne does a fine job as the hero, Colin, never detracting from Marilyn and always kind in his infatuation.

At one point, I was wondering if there were any British actors not in My Week with Marilyn. There’s Derek Jacobi, Dominic Cooper, Julia Ormond, Emma Watson, Geraldine Somervile, Michael Kitchen, Toby Jones, Dougray Scott, Zoe Wannamaker, and surely that was Downton Abbey‘s Brendan Coyle. In fact, My Week with Marilyn puts The King’s Speech into the shade in terms of acting genes.

There were a few irritations – Michelle Williams’ hips: they were padded or constructed and looked it; Vivien Leigh says she’s 43 years old: she certainly doesn’t look it; Emma Watson’s wig: frightful and horrid. Emma Watson was for me the weak link here and not just for the wig.

Michelle Williams mesmerises when she’s on screen and yet she is also a reminder of what a fabulous star Marilyn Monroe was. The real Marilyn was never far from my mind as I watched Michelle’s remarkable homage to her. As a result, My Week with Marilyn can’t fail and is an absolute pleasure to soak in, as if it were indeed a bath of champagne bubbles.

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The Ides of March

Posted on November 22, 2011 by

It may have been two thousand years or so since Caesar met his fate at the foot of the statue of his rival, Pompey the Great, stabbed 23 times by his fellow senators, but the attraction and danger of politics are just as relevant today (if, hopefully, a little less bloody) and, as such, just as popular a theme for writers now as in Shakespeare’s day. George Clooney, who has all the charisma and good looks that one could ever look for in a political candidate, directs and stars in The Ides of March, an adaptation of the play Farragut North written by Beau Willimon, one of the co-writers with Clooney of The Ides of March.

Governor Mike Morris is in Cincinnati, where he is competing in the Democratic primary elections, a key step on the path to a possible presidency. However, The Ides of March isn’t so much the Governor’s story as that of Stephen Meyers (Ryan Gosling), a brilliant 30-year-old campaigner who nonetheless has much to learn. He works for Morris’ devoted campaign manager Paul Zara (Phillip Seymour Hoffman), a man he believes to be his friend. However, Meyers has caught the attention of the rival campaign manager Tom Duffy (Paul Giamatti) and when Meyers agrees to meet him alone in a bar – in all innocence – everything starts to shift from underneath Meyers’ feet. Not even his free and easy relationship with young intern Molly (Evan Rachel Wood) is quite what it seems.

Meanwhile, Mike Morris, supported by his wife (the always excellent and frequently underused Jennifer Ehle) and their daughter, continues to woo the voters, using the clever words and arguments of Stephen Meyers.

I don’t want to give anything else away about the plot, as it winds its way through a maze of words, arguments, false promises and threats, but there are more than enough twists and turns to keep you focused on Stephen Meyers’ efforts to control his own destiny.

Unfortunately, for me, The Ides of March suffers from comparison with West Wing, a series that took political satire and drama to a level that may be impossible to conquer. There is also an air of predictability about the plot of The Ides of March. Twists it does have but the key elements of the film – the charismatic politician, the supporting and smiling wife, the dedicated campaign manager, the young intern, the sex, the triumphant galas, the packed campaign offices, the scandals, the TV interviews and the hotel rooms – all of this and much more are very familiar. Luckily, George Clooney has added sophistication to the mix, not to mention an outstanding talented cast, including regretfully small parts by actors such as Jennifer Ehle and Marisa Tomei. Hoffmann and Giamatti are scene stealers, successfully combining a curious mix of sincerity and performance.

Ryan Gosling is Flavour of the Year for sure and he has no trouble whatsoever with a role portraying a highly intelligent political wordsmith who is both honourable and a realist. I actually had the impression that it was all too easy for Gosling. Nevertheless, I would now see a film with Ryan Gosling in it even without knowing much about it. I’m not so sure I could say the same for George Clooney despite the polish he brings to his art.

The Ides of March provided a very enjoyable couple of hours. It doesn’t challenge too much but its style is extremely attractive, right down to its clever poster, and the acting on display is superb. I couldn’t help wondering though, whenever George Clooney was on the screen, if politics may lie in his future. I think he’d get the votes.

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The Help

Posted on November 11, 2011 by

I had my doubts about The Help. While the promise of a lovingly executed reconstruction of the 1960s in the deep south of the USA most definitely appealed to me, the concept of white women questioning their black maids about their experiences of servitude made me feel a little uncomfortable. Nevertheless, the word of mouth about The Help has turned this film into quite a hit and so I thought I’d take a chance. Happily, I experienced almost two and a half hours of pure entertainment but this might not have been entirely what I wanted.

In The Help, young white girl Skeeter Phelan (Emma Stone) returns home from college to her mum (the always wonderful Allison Janney). When she arrives home Skeeter discovers that the maid Constantine (Cicely Tyson) has gone. But women such as Constantine aren’t just maids. The white women of Mississippi have been raised by these black women. And yet, as they’ve grown into women and mothers themselves, they’ve become their parents, treating these maids as nothing more than chattels, to be left in a will like goods. Skeeter is different. Her mother was different but, because of the attitude of her so-called friends, she turned Constantine away and Skeeter loses her second mother.

Skeeter is one of the few young women who sees more in her future than looking after a husband and home and so she gets a job at the local paper answering letters as a kind of housework agony aunt. Of course, Skeeter knows very little about cooking and cleaning tips and so she turns to Aibileen (Viola Davis), the maid of her friend Elizabeth (Ahna O’Reilly). As Skeeter watches Aibileen care for Elizabeth’s unloved toddler she wants to know what it is like for a woman to raise the child of another woman without being able to spend time with her own child. From this seed grows the idea for a book – the stories of the hired help. Persuading these women to tell their tales is another matter, with lynchings and shootings always a risk and cruelty constant.

On one side of The Help we have the white women, led by Hilly Holbrook (Bryce Dallas Howard), a woman so evil you want to hiss at the screen. Besides Hilly, Elizabeth, Skeeter and their older kin, there is Celia Foote (Jessica Chastain), a voluptuous young bride and, in the opinion of the community, a husband stealer. You don’t have to be black to be ostracised in this world. On the other side there is Aibileen and her good friend Minny Jackson (Octavia Spencer), both of whom, with their colleagues all in identical uniforms, suffer humiliations, summed up by Hilly’s decree that bans maids from white people’s toilets. Not that there aren’t ways for the help to get some payback…

The Help looks great – it is seeped in the 1960s – and there are some truly moving scenes. The relationship between Skeeter and her mother is particularly effective, reminding me how much I enjoy Allison Janney. The moments between Aibileen and the poor ungainly daughter of Elizabeth will get you for sure. Fine acting from everyone concerned contributes to making The Help a thoroughly enjoyable film. But I never quite rid myself of the feeling that it was all a little patronising and easy, not quite doing justice to the subject matter. Nevertheless, I was surprised by how fast this long film flew by as I soaked it up. For that, I think we can thank the cast.

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In Time – well worth some of yours

Posted on November 4, 2011 by

After a couple of weeks in which I’ve not been able to make it to the cinema due to an excessive number of aches and pains, it was a pleasure to make it tonight to see a film that had my name all over it. In Time fits perfectly with some of the ideas that I’ve been reading about in science fiction over the last few weeks but more than that it has Justin Timberlake in it.

Despite the fact that I blame JT’s movie career for the lack of recent JT albums and even despite my 2007 chicken pox which I blame directly on sitting in the front row of a JT concert in Birmingham, I am drawn to this man on the big screen. There are exceptions proving the rule – and that would be Bad Teacher – but Social Network and now In Time show me how I want to see a film with Justin Timberlake headlining it. Even if it has Amanda Seyfried in it. That’s how big his pull is.

In Time tells the tale of a re-engineered world in which genetic ageing stops when you reach 25 years old. After that the clock on your arm starts ticking and you have a year’s credit. Money is valueless, instead you work for time and you buy with time. A phone call costs a minute but a bus ride home may cost two hours. If you’re unlucky, as the clock counts down on your arm, that may be an hour or so too long. The city is divided into time zones. In the ghettos the price of everything increases hourly – more people will die granting more time to the wealthy. Will Salas (Justin Timberlake) saves the life of a man with a century to spare and from that moment on Salas begins his mission to give people time. With him for the ride is Sylvia Weis (Amanda Seyfried), the daughter of the millionaire and therefore eternal Philippe Weis (Vincent Kartheiser). Her life has no risk of an end, as a result it’s dull. When you live for ever there is no spice to life. When you live with just a day left to you, every second counts.

As Will and Sylvia fight back against the rich and reclaim time owed to them and to everyone else, they are chased by Timekeeper Raymond Leon (Cillian Murphy), who is dogged in his pursuit and lives from one minute to the next – not because he doesn’t have time but because there are things more important to him than the time left to him and that doesn’t include himself.

Without doubt, you must suspend belief to appreciate fully the thrills that In Time has in store for you. For one thing, with the biological clock of everyone stopping at 25, it is impossible to judge who is father, mother, daughter, son, sister and brother. With relationships made physically cloudy, it’s not surprising that we have rebellion here. The rich can live forever, at the cost of the poor, and if the poor should gain a decade or two by whatever means there are gangsters ready to steal it off them, through threats or games.

I could list the implausibilities – most of which involve the (in)suitability of Amanda Seyfried’s shoes for the excessive amount of running that’s demanded of her here. And then there are the pairs of beautiful eyes – Amanda Seyfried’s and those of Cillian Murphy. We have the leather and boots of the Timekeepers and the short short skirts and suits of the rich and the attitude of the ghettos. But what we also have is an exciting tale, glamorously executed, with a thrilling premise, with a constant countdown to oblivion keeping us on the edge of our seats, acted out by an array of charismatic actors. I enjoyed every minute of it.

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