My Cinema Review

FINALLY, I have been to see the much-anticipated, long-awaited The Hunger Games movie. In fairness, having only read the Trilogy last year, I didn’t have too long to wait, but I was still very keen to see how the first book would translate onscreen. And, for the most part, I’m glad to report that I think it was a good effort.

Assuming you have little knowledge of The Hunger Games premise, here’s a quick heads up – the book/film is set in a dystopian non-specified future, where those coastal parts of the USA and Canada that haven’t succumbed to sea flooding are divided up into 12 districts, under one banner of Panem. The state is run by a totalitarian regime called The Capitol, headed by the menacing figure that is President Snow. The outer-lying districts of Panem are kept under the proverbial thumb by strictly controlled food rationing and militant repression, with travel and pretty much all day to day activities monitored by The Capitol’s resident Peacekeeper force. As a punishment for their treachery in turning against The Capitol in a devastating war generations earlier, each year children between the ages of 12 and 18 from families that choose to receive much-needed food rations from The Capitol are entered into a draw, with two “tributes” chosen at random from each District to a fight to the death. Hence, The Hunger Games.

“Yeah, as if. That would never happen”, you might say. But the book draws on our recent fascination with the more extreme side of reality television and YouTube-esque voyeurism, couples it with disturbingly accurate totalitarian tendencies which are very much in evidence in a handful of countries today, and serves up a believable dystopian version of North America. If we let ourselves go, if we let ourselves slide, you have to wonder if it could happen. Before the reaping, Gale wonders if The Hunger Games could be eradicated, it only people would just stop watching. And you consider, if they were televised here and now, would you watch? Would there always be an audience? Of course there would – today, the number of views of abusive, violent and downright disturbing videos online reaches into the millions. We are already disconnecting ourselves behind that third wall. We might not have moved on from watching people and animals fight to the death, or gawping at disabled and disfigured people in asylums as entertainment as much as we think we have. We still want to witness the drama, the pain, the indignity, and to elevate the underdogs before watching them take an almighty fall. It’s there, and en masse, unfortunately we still have an insatiable appetite for it, like some warped mob mentality. In fact, both the film and book are littered with socio-political criticisms, satire, metaphors and allusions, as well as our obsession and reliance on making the right impression for our own ends. The concept of the Hunger Games takes all of the above to the extreme, and provides topics for endless discussions.

I could drivel on for hours, but I won’t.

Artistically, the intelligent variety of camera techniques, cutaways, and use (or in some cases, lack of) soundtrack complimented the screenplay very well. The lack of an ambient soundtrack and the free camera work during the reaping gives the events a more organic feel, highlighting the repressed panic and unease felt beneath the sombre expressions of district residents and potential tributes alike. The musical soundtrack only really kicks in once the audience and the two District 12 tributes are whisked away to the Capitol, and for the first time in their lives are exposed to the kitsch opulence and overindulgence of life as an affluence Capitol resident. The soundtrack, colours and action builds throughout the Hunger Games themselves, emphasising the assault on the senses that Katniss and Peeta must feel in being ripped away from their more simple, but no less controlled existence.

I only felt a little let down by the lack of emotion and character development of the other tributes, although this is a minor criticism as there’s only so much you can explore about 22 other characters in a given time. But there is always something deeply disturbing about children that are forced or compelled to enact violent behaviour, whether it’s in fiction (Lord of the Flies et al), or the grim reality, such as gang violence or child soldiers. The Hunger Games, as a 12A certificate, explores this concept but somehow it doesn’t quite hit the mark. The coldness and supposed steely determination of the more affluent and groomed tributes of District 1 and 2 comes across as little more than arrogance and apathy (perhaps intended), whereas the film’s “reality” of effectively sending helpless and untrained children from the poorer districts to slaughter was, dare I say it, watered down into a pre-watershed translation of events from the book. The camera never lingers for long on the horrific injuries inflicted by weapons or mutated animals, and the finality of death and the hopelessness of the situation is skirted over, until Cato’s declaration and small act of defiance as he is staring his own demise in the face. There were a couple of smaller, weedy looking kids who were slaughtered within the first moments of the frenzy at the cornucopia – innocent children without a hope of surviving, and who could have served alongside Rue as a reminder of the horrific nature of The Capitol’s propagandist bid to “heal itself” and to offer a little drip feed of “hope” to the districts under its control. In a way I wanted the audience to be made to feel intense pain for those tributes. I wanted them to feel angry at The Capitol. There’s two ways of looking at it – we were watching these events unfold purely as voyeurs, as entertainment, in the same way the the Capitol’s broadcasts might be shown. Or the directors and producers of The Hunger Games didn’t give us enough emotional fodder for us (me) to feel adequately horrified.

But nevertheless, with Suzanne Collins on board with the screenplay, and a stellar casting, The Hunger Games movie serves as a faithful translation of its book kin. There might be less violence, less focus on the terror and emotion of the other tributes, but the seeds have been sown for the remainder of the trilogy. I have to remember that a lot of introductory information, a lot of themes and a lot of characters have to be packed into two hours’ worth of film, and really this was handled competently, and at times, quite gracefully. The film contrasts the “haves” and “have nots” well – the opulence and bizarreness of The Capitol fashions, the population’s removal from the grim reality of life in other districts and disregard for the well-being of the tributes, as well as Haymitch’s discomfort with his role as mentor to those with a supposed death sentence – was well executed. I actually preferred Jennifer Lawrence’s Katniss to book Katniss – there is more warmth, and a little more humour in her performance, compared to her harder, colder and more manipulative book incarnation. I only wish there had been a little more antagonism directly between President Snow and Katniss at the crowning ceremony- but again, so much to pack in, so much more left to explore.

8.5 out of 10 stars

I didn’t know that there used to be a 21 Jump Street series in the late 80s and early 90s (did they ever broadcast it in the UK?), and as such, I had no prior expectations for this film other than those I had obtained from the trailers (see above). Any references and cameos relating the old 21 Jump Street TV series were lost on me (“Oh! Haha! Look, it’s Johnny Depp… why??”), yet I still thoroughly enjoyed the film for its (often cutting) critique on modern teenage life. And just because Jonah Hill and Channing Tatum made me laugh pretty much the whole way through the film.

21 Jump Street follows two clumsy, bumbling but perennially enthusastic newbie cops Schmidt/Doug (Jonah Hill) and Jenko/Brad (Channing Tatum) as they go undercover, posing as high school students whilst attempting to infiltrate a small-time but burgeoning drugs ring. This is my third cinematic review featuring Tatum this year, and golly gosh, do I find him amusing. I really ought not to. He still doesn’t always open his mouth enough when he speaks, he mumbles a lot, and he often has the expression of an abashed four year old. But his delivery just makes me LAUGH, inspite of myself. I don’t just guffaw along with everyone else (no high-school like peer-pressure here), I laugh because I’m amused and this slightly strange pairing with Hill is FUNNY. All the LOLs, as the kids would say.

Hill’s comedic timing is – as you’d expect – spot on throughout the film, and in his Everyman role I often found myself thinking “Yep, that’s what I’d do/say/how I’d high five/cry/lie”. And Tatum as his “handsome popular guy-come-science geek” best buddy is actually pretty bang-on too, proving he’s a capable half of this comedic duo. They don’t just churn out gags as other reviewers would have you believe, they adeptly deliver a really funny and intuitive script that strikes a balance between the more constant understated humour, and the smattering of outlandish and crass moments, and satirical observations on the “yoof” of today. As Schmidt and Jenko, they are a couple of douchebags, but somehow their douchebag behaviour was much more clever than their characterisations. To explain how would be spoilerific – sorry!

I loved how baffled Schmidt and Jenko were by the contemporary YouTube high school generation – as a 2001 “high school” (Upper School & Community College) graduate, I just missed out on the hipster/YouTube/social media frenzy/constant texting of teenagerhood, and could totally relate to their confusion, derision and (I hate to admit it) slight envy. “If I was born 10 years later, I could have been so cool!” Schmidt (Hill) claims. Yeah. Environmentally-conscious vegetarian high five, right here. Pointing to a picture of his 8 year old self, Schmidt complains that he looks like Fred Savage out of the Wonder Years – and from our lone loud giggling, it seems that the reference was lost on the under-21s that made up the majority of our showing. Jenko, the most confused and out of his depth of the comedic pairing (mostly by the way everyone does “two straps” instead of “one strap” on their backpacks – my school did two straps so I guess we were ahead of the game), sums it up in a bold statement, declaring that Glee is to blame for the modern state of high school. “Fuck you, Glee!” he mumbles to himself. Yeah, Fuck You indeed. Or not.

There’s plenty of action, plenty of hilarious situations that don’t involve copious amounts of boobs and poo to be funny. There is a severed penis and an amusing scene involved mutual puking (did I just type that?), and a very brief amount of nudity. And drugs, of course. OK – so it’s a bit crass and gratuitous. But it’s not gross. You only really cringe once. One of the best parts of the film is when Schmidt and Jenko are forced to take the very drug they’re trying to eradicate from circulation, and the ensuing Phases that they go through is just brilliant, especially when Tatum hits Phase 4 “Fuck Yeah Motherfucker” during a school band rehearsal. Rich almost stopped breathing during the whole scene because all the LOLs were tumbling from his mouth, later explaining that Tatum’s enactment of Phase 4 was exactly how he felt when he was on one of his Dairy-induced hyperactivity stints as a child. He’s since cut out dairy and for the most part, is quite normal now. Most of the time.

I’ve read other less favourable reviews of 21 Jump Street, bemoaning its blatant piss takes on the original series (come on, it was the 80s and early 90s – it’s got to be easy pickings?), and I just don’t get it. HOW can you not find this film funny? Do you have a banana stuck up your bum? I suppose with no expectations and no exposure to its TV namesake, we were easily pleased. I just found myself agreeing with them on many counts – in 10 years, high school has changed a lot, and I do catch myself wondering what it would be like to go back now, knowing what I know, knowing what I missed out on, and how I would fit in. Although 21 Jump Street didn’t make me ponder on it for too long, it did keep me laughing, and that’s fine. I like to be amused. I hate being disappointed when you discover that all the funny bits of the film have been crammed into the trailers. This is most definitely not the case with 21 Jump Street – there’s laughs to be had all the way through. We weren’t there to be educated, we wanted just to be entertained, and 21 Jump Street certainly delivered on that score.

8.5 out of 10 stars.

When you see the name Judd Apatow affiliated with a film, you already know what you’re in for. It’s not going to be pretty. There’s probably going to be nudity, there’ll be copious amounts of cursing and crudeness, and there will certainly be a great big dollop of slightly awkward, slightly dirty sex thrown in. Wanderlust checks all of these boxes but somehow manages to avoid becoming a complete cesspit of filth and smut, which is probably why it’s been designated a 15 certificate.

Paul Rudd, as George – one half of Manhattanite microloft-dwelling couple George and Linda (played by Jennifer Aniston) – is partially responsible for making the film more about the funnies than the fannies. Case in point; one of Rudd’s funniest moments in Wanderlust is the latter half of a lengthy x-rated monologue at a mirror, which proved to be about as erotic as my left elbow. But the scene was intentionally delivered in a suitably diabolical fashion, and his performance raised a few hearty chuckles from more than a few of us in the audience.

The film does have its fair share of misses, and on the whole subscribes to more than a few “light entertainment” cliches. As you might expect from the trailer,Wanderlust is pretty much the antithesis of high brow entertainment. But, for all intents and purposes, Rudd and Aniston’s double act gives the film some credibility, and the supporting cast – including the likes of Ken Marino as George’s noveau-riche douchebag brother Rick, Alan Alda as commune founder Carvin, and Jordan Peel as dippy hippy Rodney –  make the film an enjoyable enough easy watch. Although in a month’s time you’ll struggle to recall the plot line of Wanderlust, it should keep you amused for its 98 minute duration.

And though plenty of screen time is given over to various shots of willies (mostly courtesy of Joe le Truglio’s generously sized prosthetic member), Wanderlust is not actually that gratuitous. The glut of various and assorted appendages featured in Wanderlust is a little alarming at times, but in context they’re nothing more than silly, smutty comedic props. And that’s fine. The remainder of the non-willy content is also silly, still a bit smutty and completely ludicrous- but it’s often the more understated comedy moments (Rick jogging after his car, Rodney parking George’s car in the lake and his confused apathetic reactions, George’s patchy rendition of the Spin Doctors’ Two Princes…) that carry this film.

So as long as you are able to give in to your inner sniggering 14 year old self, you should enjoy this one.

6 out of 10 stars.

“Well, that was utterly ridiculous,” were the first words out of my boyfriend’s mouth when we left the cinema screen. He wasn’t referring to the 15 minute wait we’d had in the queue to the concessions stand, only to be told when we got to the front that they were accepting cash only. Nor was he referring to the price of a nacho combo “deal”. No, his derisory tone was devoted to the bewildering plot line of this week’s average cinematic screening, This Means War.

Starring Chris “James T. Kirk” Pine, Reese “two boards clapped together” Witherspoon and, Tom “too cool for school” Hardy, This Means War is essentially a rom-com with a bit of spy action thriller thrown in. At least, that’s what the makers of the trailers would like you to think. It’s actually a film about two men that happen to be spies that fall for the same woman. The fact they’re spies only serves to facilitate the rival parties with the means to… well, spy on each other’s woo-ing efforts. So if you’re planning on a trip out to see This Means War, be prepared to spend about four fifths of the film watching one fairly good looking man (Pine, as FDR) undertake a game of silly one-upmanship over his better looking best friend (Hardy, as Tuck) in order to secure the affections of a Really Annoying Woman.

At one point in the film, Witherspoon’s character accuses FDR of having the emotional intelligence of a 15 year old. The same could be said of This Means War and its smattering of smutty jokes (mostly courtesy of Witherspoon’s onscreen vulgar best mate).

HERE BE SPOILERS – DO NOT CARRY ON READING IF YOU DO NOT WANT TO BE SPOILED!

The actual spy drama – featuring some foreign dude with a mean face and a meaner sounding surname – is brief, with a mind-numblingly basic and preposterous story arc that culminates in Witherspoon’s character magically being able to pull off some serious handbrake turns, whilst not being shot or injured despite foreign-named dude and his cronies’ rain of bullets. I really wish there had been more action. This Means War had a promising opening sequence, lots of dives behind strategically placed furniture, neat chudo-chops, action, action, action. I enjoyed watching Hardy in particular do his “tough man” thing. I enjoyed watching the two guys work together. Sure, it was ridiculous, but it was fun. But watching these two characters waste their time trying to secure the affections of a fickle blonde was quite hard work. I wanted them both to walk away. That wasn’t much fun.

Of course, Witherspoon and her pins look utterly amazing for the entirety of the film, but why two men would invest so much energy in trying to bed such a capricious and ultimately self righteous moron (she gets super annoyed because they’ve neglected to tell her that they know each other, as if that’s somehow worse than lying to the two men that she’s attempting to sleep with at the same time?) is beyond me. I can’t even remember her character’s name because I spent the entire movie wanting to chew my own hand off to distract me from how utterly infuriating and idiotic her character was. The same goes for her sex-mad loud-mouthed boozy “friend”. Could do without.

For me and my average cinema expectations, Hardy was the film’s main redeeming feature. Pine as FDR was just too schmaltzy, too Hollywoodised, too American, too plastic (actually, the same goes for the screenplay too). Hardy’s “Tuck” is far more appealing.  Perhaps I’m biased because along with Cumberbatch, Hardy ranks amongst my favourite British actors, first in talent, and secondly in looks. Yes, his teeth are a little wonky, but as a fellow Brit, I don’t mind that at all – it’s part of his charm. He walks like a bloke, he doesn’t slink about like a sleaze. He’s real, and I could well see myself being wooed by Tuck, whereas I think I’d just laugh in the face of FDR before puking all over my shoes.

And one last complaint – when discussing the pros and cons of Tuck and FDR, Witherspoon’s characters lists Tuck’s being British as a ‘con’. What the fuck?! Based on that inane comment alone, I would happily take away a few stars from This Means War. Without Hardy, I would give it 3 stars out of 10. With Hardy, I’ll give it a 6, because I could happily watch him for hours on end.

So here goes. My first “average cinema experience” review. Don’t hold on to the seat of your pants.

On Tuesday afternoon I found myself in my local cinema, prepared with my usual bag of Revels, Fanta Frozen and an extra tray of nachos (I’d neglected to have lunch!) for what I expected to be a run of the mill slightly tragic rom-com.  Tuesday’s choice was The Vow, with mumbly but overgrown boyishly charming Channing Tatum, and the  Rachel McAdams both at the helm.

Channing Tatum is relatively new to me – I recall his performance in Haywire, but I don’t recollect any other big screen performances. But having undertaken a swift reconnaissance mission over at IMDB, it seems that I have indeed perused those pecks once before, somewhere during the on-screen stinker that was GI Joe.  Hence the unintentional, but entirely understandable mental block.

But when it comes to Tatum’s Haywire performance, my initial reaction – and actually, my formal conclusion – was “aha! beefcake!”. And silly me, I took this (conceived) pre-conception all the way into Screen 12, along with my various purchases from the confectionary stand. I was fully expecting Leo, Tatum’s The Vow protagonist, to be a bit of a one-dimensional meathead. And I thought I had Rachel McAdams all figured out, too. McAdams is very capable of playing a Massive Bitch – she pulls of the obnxious, rancourous, trumped up cow with a degree of grace and poise that almost makes you like how unlikeable she is. It’s a characterisation that has had a few outings since Mean Girls (think Inez in Midnight in Paris), but serves as an interesting contrast to her ability to make even a supporting on-screen character utterly enchanting.It’s this ‘I am strong, I am beautiful, but I am really a delicate flower and you can’t help but love, cherish and admire me for it’… thing. As Paige in The Vow, McAdams somehow manages to give us a hefty spoonful of both, and still elicit sympathy and a small degree of incredulity at her behaviour.

I won’t give you a run-by-run account of the film, nor will I provide any spoilers (I hope). But I will say that I was glad that I didn’t have to sit through an initial half hour set up of “this is how perfect our life was, until the accident”. The centre of the film’s universe is Paige and Leo’s complicated relationship, with the accident serving as our initial experience of a life-changing moment. This is a theme that’s explored eloquently throughout the first two thirds of the film as we skip back and forth through the chronology of Leo and Paige’s relationship. Although a little frustrating at first, these chronological hops underlined the tragedy of losing these impactful moments that may or may not define our characters and our lives. The story revolves around this simple but entirely delicious concept of how we, as people, are shaped by these moments, and what could happen if those moments are taken away. Are we innately still the same person, will we always reach the same conclusions and reach the same point, just by living? Or is it the things that happen to us that are so inherent to what we become, the way we are? It’s something that I was surprised to find myself chewing over since walking out of the theatre. I wasn’t expecting The Vow to exercise my grey matter at any level.

In terms of performances – yes, Tatum’s performance as Leo could be mumbled and awkward, but I actually found it endearing rather than cringeworthy. He’s a big guy – the boy is packing some serious musclage under those cable knit jumpers so favoured in this film – but I think that contributed to and enhanced his endearing awkward guy moments, of which there were a handful. Actually, there were times where I found myself empathising for the poor guy, especially after the scene where he’d endured an evening of feeling like he was “cock blocking” his own wife. I think what I’m trying to say in my own roundabout rambling way is that I could see why someone would fall in love with him. He does vulnerable, cute but dependable. He is a bit of a meat head, but that’s OK. It works.

McAdams as Paige put in a good, solid performance. She always does. That’s the thing – you know what you’ll get with her, but in a way she always slips in a bit more. She’s a bit mesmerising. Their initial relationship at the beginning of the film may be idyllic, but so what – the point is you can believe how they could love each other so much, which gives you reason to champion the reunification of Leo and Paige. With Leo erased from her memories, she has the capacity to hurt him, and at times she does – but her performance of the complexity of emotions that her character is fighting give you reason to forgive her – or at the very least, accept her behaviour.

The only element of the movie I really grappled with was the locations – Paige is from an upper middle class family from somewhere around Chiacgo, and it seems that the only residences featured within the The Vow were big, expensive and of true cinema fodder. Leo (and at various points in the film, Paige) live in a groovy-hip-arty-messy-chic-converted-warehouse that looks like it’s been designed and installed by Superdry. It’s HUGE, it’s a bit wanky and to a point where it was almost distracting. My brain was screaming “WTF? YOUR HOUSE IS HUGE. HOW CAN YOU AFFORD ALL OF THAT REAL ESTATE, ON YOUR SALARIES?”. Then you see where Paige grew up, and it all slots into place. Trust Fund Kid. Must be. It’s all – so idyllic? Too idyllic. But it’s not real (although it’s based on a real story).

The Vow delivered a well executed tragically romantic story (or should that be tragic and romantic story). The story generally panned out in a way that I expected it to, but also gave me a rare moment of “oh… ok!” – and remember, I am an average cinema goer, so I may be more easily surprised than seasoned film buffs. The final scenes offered a nice, neat little twist that made me feel just a little bit idiotic for not figuring out that things would end in that particular way.  The film is, after all, called The Vow and I guess you have to wonder what you’d do if you’d made a vow to love someone unconditionally, a vow that you’d promised to uphold, and yet you can’t remember making that promise. I’ll leave it up to you to discover whether two people so in love always find their way back to each other, if that’s your thing.

So, The Vow – a not-quite-what-you’d-expect-romantic-drama with a story to tell - gets 7.5 stars out of 10 from me.