Movieblaze

Starring: Nicolas Cage, Amber Heard, William Fichtner, Billy Burke, David Morse, Katy Mixon

Director: Patrick Lussier

Writer(s): Todd Farmer, Patrick Lussier

Cinematography: Brian Pearson

Original Score: Michael Wandmacher

Running Time: 104 Mins.

Director Patrick Lussier last gave us the cinematic delight known as My Bloody Valentine, it was a film that managed to be trashy yet mildly entertaining though what it did do quite well was take the 3D aspect of the film back to its Horror roots with blood, blades and boobs thrust out the screen upon us…if I’m seeing a 3D film I’d rather enjoy it as this kind of OTT gimmick than to “give depth” as Cameron harps on about, and as every bug budget film currently under production is falling over itself to give us that Avatar “depth” (read blurred and muted picture) I would take a 3D exploitation film over that any day of the week.

Which would go someway t suggesting why I had hopes for Drive Angry 3D, not high hopes mind you just hopes that it would be thorough;y trashy in a good way, a film that would see Lussier build on those Grindhouse style foundations he set in motion with My Bloody Valentine. After all he hired Cage (and the wig) to play an avenging father who has broken out of hell to track down the cult villains whilst being pursued by the devils accountant and accompanied by a white trash hottie in the form of Amber Heard. If this reads like a checklist for a fun Friday night at the cinema we’re on the same wavelength…though leave it to Lussier to bungle seemingly idiot proof elements and give Cage yet another bland mis-step.

If ever a film called for Cage to be all bulging eyed and shouty, this would be it, imagine his Bad Lieutenant character in this scenario and you would be half way to an entertaining if not a good film, alas this is the sleep-walking comatose Cage last seen in the equally risible Season of the Witch, it is a shocking error on Cage’s part and maybe Lussier just wasn’t up to the job of pulling a good turn from the lazy actor, but ether way this was Cage’s film for the taking…and he blows it, worse than being bad he is sown-right snooze-worthy.

Thankfully Amber Heard and William Fichtner offer some value for money, Fichtner as The Accountant is all Christopher Walken style sarcasm and serpentine menace, pursuing Cage and turning up just as you are about to nod off he provides the saviour of the film and along with the rather stunning eye candy of Heard makes this just about worth staying awake for. More than just a gorgeous girl however Heard has sass to spare, and is a kick-ass heroine, she seems considerably more invested in and concerned about Cage’s quest than he ever does, which quite frankly speaks volumes about who is acting and who is simply drawling out lines for the pay cheque.

Lest we not forget this was never really meant to be about the acting, or overacting, but rather the Grindhouse elements, it has the plot down pat and for each element that it just about gets right, the nasty comical violence, the absurd nudity, it gets far more wrong and that includes the huge faux pas of making a hash of the car chases. For a film called Drive Angry 3D you’d expect at least value for money in that department, but no, they are few and far between with only one vehicular mash-up being anything more than pedestrian. It would have been more fun if it were called Walk Angry, a title that would have been more appropriate given the overall pace! To end on a slightly less damning note, the 3D is fair and manages to keep in the trashy realms, blood, boobs and explosions aplenty although not one of those make a lasting impression or get the pulse racing in the moment…all of which adds up to something of a big fail.

VERDICT

Drive Angry 3D should have been great fun and given us cheap thrills aplenty, it’s not and it doesn’t. Everything is bungled to the point of being simply mundane, meaning it is left to the combined talents of Amber Heard and the under-rated William Fichtner to provide any entertainment beyond the gimmick of 3D.

Starring: Alex Pettyfer, Timothy Olyphant, Teresa Palmer, Dianna Agron, Kevin Durand, Callan McAuliffe

Director: D. J. Caruso

Writer(s): Alfred Gough, Miles Millar, Marti Noxon, Pittacus Lore (Novel)

Cinematography: Guillermo Navarro

Original Score: Trevor Rabin

Running Time: 110 Mins.

If Twilight were to be remade as a sci-fi film, much as some members of the press would have us believe, I Am Number Four is not it, for a start it is enjoyable and fun bereft of moping teenagers, angst-riddled romance and is also handled with a touch of flare that makes this accessible to all ages despite the leanings towards a teen target audience. Director D.J. Caruso has followed up two rather lacklustre efforts in Eagle Eye and Disturbia with a film that hints at more than mere “name-on-the-poster” status for executive producers Michael Bay and Steven Spielberg.

The film opens with an ominous zoom from outer space to the jungles of Venezuela where we learn Number Three of a small select group of an alien race has been killed by another alien race, the Megalorians, what the Megalorians must now do is continue destroying each alien in sequence to achieve…well…world domination we can only assume (is that not what all evil alien races seek to do!?!). This is where our story (proper) begins, with Number Four growing tired of being on the run and yearning to settle down and live a quiet life, while his guardian Henri spends most of his time cleaning up all traces of Four in an effort to keep him hidden from the evil baddies, but whaddya’ know, Four (now known as John Smith) falls in love and begins to discover he has limitless powers, while the Megalorians are closing in on their prey…

I can sense you are getting that Twilight vibe from the plot but these staple character types are where the comparisons begin, and end. Alex Pettyfer as Four is hardly actor of the year but he is a whole lot more charismatic than many and carries the angst without making it seem dull or sulky like some whiny teen (Pattinson and Stewart take note), while the two lead women are both as capable balancing a bit of emotional cheese/baggae with a more fun and light-hearted (read: entertaining) tone. The romance is burgeoning and not over-egged and in Teresa Palmer’s Six we have a feisty female lead with charisma and sass to spare, here’s hoping we get the sequel that is so well set up but leaves you gagging for more on every front.

The Spielberg influence is clear from the off, teens with daddy-issues, alien beings, the high school stereotypes played to for all their worth, and this keeps the drama ticking along nicely for the first two-thirds but it is in the final third where the spirit of Michael Bay rears his head that things go up a notch or two. Caruso deftly handles the action that begins in a school and ends up on an American football pitch, theres the sinister alien race, heroes who can conjure all manner of powers X-Men style as well as a couple of neat plot twists/revelations that really add to the fun…add to this some of the better space creatures in recent years and a Chimera no-less and you have the making of what is certainly the years biggest surprise so far.

Though having said this there are flaws and much like Jumper and Push, which I Am Number Four is closer in the movie gene-pool than Twilight, it can at times feel like a set-up for a much larger pay-off though thankfully the finale makes up for this somewhat where those afore-mentioned films didn’t. The other downside comes in the level of lighting in some scenes, darkness can be agreat tool to a film-maker but wielded badly it proves for confusion and a messy direction, this hampers I Am Number Four in an opening sequence that is otherwise very good. It seems churlish to seek fault in something that I was expecting to be tosh and turned out to be great fun, and solidly made…if only I could say that about more films.

VERDICT

Kudos to D.J. Caruso for (hopefully and capably) kicking off a new franchise, one that is more concerned with offering entertainment, not angst. Minor quibbles aside it isn’t often you see the great and greatly under-rated Timothy Olyphant wielding an alien sword, and for that alone I would heartily recommend I Am Number Four.

Starring: Simon Pegg, Nick Frost, Seth Rogen (voice), Kristen Wiig, Jason Bateman, Bill Hader, Sigourney Weaver

Director: Greg Mottola

Writer(s): Nick Frost, Simon Pegg

Cinematography: Lawrence Sher

Original Score: David Arnold

Running Time: 104 Mins.

If you liked Shaun of the Dead and Hot Fuzz…it doesn’t automatically mean you will like Paul, Simon Pegg’s latest big-screen opus, that is not to say Paul is a bad film by any means but rather it is nowhere near as clever or indeed funny as those previous efforts, though the reasons for this aren’t entirely clear I have a couple of sneaking suspicions why. For a start Paul does not represent the third of the “cornetto” trilogy, it is not directed or co-written by Edgar Wright who went off to try to break Hollywood on his own with Scott Pilgrim vs. the World and ended up failing somewhat, it was a hit with critics but proved too left-field for US audiences. The reasons for that films financial failure are the exact same reasons why Paul likely will succeed…because it ultimately forsakes the unique, and it must be said somewhat British, edge of Shaun and Fuzz.

In losing Wright as co-scripter Pegg gains longtime friend and screen partner Frost, their best-buddy relationship comes across in spades though that may well be where the problems start, there is no conflict here, exhibiting the bromance elements that are so in vogue with the Apatow crew of late albeit toned right down. This is none more evident than in the opening sequence that sees Graham (Pegg) and Clive (Frost) embark upon a trip around the US that begins in Comic-Con. It could have been a setting ripe for some hilarious jokes/situations/characters, as it is the guys seem far to concerned with avoiding offending anyone, so what could have been a funny but affectionate look at geekdom becomes simply pedestrian, there are some jokes but they tread weak sitcom territory….something these guys are usually at pains to avoid, something that culminates with a weak hotel room joke about taking bromance a little too far.

Then, just as you begin to worry that this is a well and truly wasted opportunity Paul kicks into gear, largely thanks to the appearance of the titular alien, as Paul Seth Rogen gives his best turn in quite some time and is down-right hilarious as the smoking, cussing, rude, but also very sweet alien…the anti E.T. if you like. He sets up the much-needed friction between Graham and Clive and demonstrates that both men are the straight roles against Paul’s super funny turn. The comedy love is shared however with Jason Bateman and Bill Hader both superb as a couple of “men in black”, with numerous cameos, which are best kept secret, provide a couple of great in-jokes…

It is here that the film really hits its stride, as Shaun was a love-letter to zombie films and Fuzz the same to actioners, Paul proves a geeks dream when it comes to sci-fi, in fact the more of a geek you are you will garner so much more from the film. Every subtle reference to Close Encounters or The X-Files is balanced out with some outright sledge-hammer blows, sets are recognisable, voices play on other sci-fi films and even limes are lovingly ripped from other classics, it is quite frankly a sci-fi nerds wet dream!

Equally it is fair to say the less of a sci-fi fan you are the less you will take from the film in terms of references though there is still much to be enjoyed as a straight out comedy that melds the odd hint of that unique Pegg humour with a much broader American sensibility, obviously as a result of this sacrifices have been made meaning ultimately this is not anywhere near as funny as past efforts, though few comedies are, and Graham and Clive continue to remain the rather bland straight men throughout though one can’t help but feel this is intentional so we focus on everything else, and the titular alien (who must have cost a pretty penny!).

If Paul has another strength it is in hiring director Greg Mottola, Mottola gave us quite personal projects in Adventureland and Superbad but here shows he is equally capable at “hiring” himself out. The action scenes are handled with aplomb and many of the shots are fantastic in emulating their targets, E.T., Close Encounters etc. though more importantly the film has a feel of its own, making something that could have been a borderline spoof into a touching sci-fi comedy, with its tongue placed firmly in cheek.

VERDICT

After a slow and rather forgettable start Paul kicks into gear, ultimately pandering to sci-fi geeks there is still enough here to appeal to the masses, not a classic by any means but a solid comedy, even if Pegg and Frost have pandered to the US audiences at the cost of Shaun/Fuzz levels of laughs…and quality.

Starring: Jeff Bridges, Matt Damon, Josh Brolin, Hailee Steinfeld, Barry Pepper, Domnhall Gleeson

Director(s): Ethan Coen, Joel Coen

Writer(s): Joel Coen, Ethan Coen

Cinematography: Roger Deakins

Original Score: Carter Burwell

Running Time: 110 Mins.

True Grit marks the first time the Coens have tackled a straight down the middle old school western, it may seem odd given their style and class as some of America’s best film-makers for them not to have divulged in America’s most classic genre before. Although let us not forget No Country For Old Men was very much a modern-western, using a classic novel and branding it with their own unique, and brilliant stamp, it oozed excellence on every front. So it comes as little surprise True Grit makes for a double whammy…

Slightly mis-sold as action packed through the trailers this is one film that is, unsurprising given the directors, that is all about character, script and direction, once more Roger Deakins and the Coens craft some truly iconic shots that show how gorgeous the western can potentially be. A genre that has long sat on the back-burner it every so often throws up something special, The Three Burials of Melquides Estrada, Unforgiven and under-rated gem Open Range, True Grit matches each and every one of those, quite some feat considering their calibre, again this is no surprise but a nice reassurance that there is at least one (well two) director that will consistently impress with their range, a range that sees them always make their make, one thing you can say about a Coen film is that it is always unmistakably a Coen film!

Shootouts are few and far between in a story that is the second stab at Charles’ Portis’ novel, the first came in the 60′s with a starring role for John Wayne as Rooster Cogburn (a drunk, shabby man who shoots first and asks questions later), Cogburn is hired by Mattie Ross (Steinfeld) to hunt down all-round bud ‘un Chaney (Brolin), having murdered Mattie’s father, along for the ride is LaBeouf, a flash Texas Ranger who loves himself just a little too much. The story remains unchanged with much of the dialogue ripped from the novel, characters speak in authentic “western” dialogue, no abbreviations or shortened phrases here, and the quick fire banter between characters is a joy with the Coen’s usual and unique black humour running through each and every utterance.

As good as the dialogue is though it would be nothing if not for the men, and young lady, speaking it. We all know Bridges can immerse himself in a role, and he does so here with the usual aplomb, slurring his words by way of a whiskey induced stupor yet always seeming like a dominant presence, quick on the draw when need be, as his opposite Damon as LaBeouf is all preened-up, flashy jacket and spurs to match, you may think him all speak and no action…you’d be wrong. Holding these two huge, and magnetic, performers to sway is Steinfeld as Mattie, she has enough sass to compete in the battle of wits with accountants, undertakers and particularly LaBeouf and Rooster. Matching their inital put-downs blow for blow, it is only in the end she becomes a damsel in distress, yet never loses her composure always standing up to the most fearsome of men.

Talking of fearsome men, Chaney and Pepper (Brolin and Barry Pepper) are superb, and nigh-on unrecognisable, in their admittedly and shamefully brief roles, both exude menace yet steer well clear of comic book strereotypes despite the mangled and bedraggled appearance, they are no more shabby than Rooster which adds to the film a nice sense of authenticity (one of the many, many strengths). As these men enter the fray the stakes are raised by a notch, or ten, and the Coens as ever deal with the short sharp bursts of action with realism and brutality, no bullet is stray and every blow hurts, whether it be from a gun or an emotional blow…the sucker punch comes in the final scenes giving all that has come before a great deal of poignancy, holding true to the brutal grace of True Grit.

VERDICT

Unashamedly a classic western in every sense of the word, the Coens have however branded their stamp onto every frame with the usual eccentricities (odd support characters, a sardonic sense of humour, extraordinary character depth) but it is combining these two elements that True Grit has smouldered its way into the realms of being a classic film…it’s up there with the best of them.

Starring: Mark Wahlberg, Christian Bale, Amy Adams, Melissa Leo, Mickey O’ Keefe, Jack McGee

Director: David O’ Russell

Writer(s): Scott Silver, Paul Tamasy, Eric Johnson

Cinematography: Hoyte Van Haytema

Original Score: Michael Brook

Running Time: 115 Mins.

Despite having Darren Aronovsky as executive producer and the man himself once touted to direct this is not a film akin to The Wrestler or Black Swan, lacking the latter’s pretentious leanings that took a sport (ballet) and twisted it into an over-blown “study” of the human psyche. The Fighter is a much simpler tale, and a hell of a good one at that meaning we should all be thankful that it was David O’ Russell (he behind Three Kings) who eventually took the reigns, bringing something rather special to a potentially run-of-the-mill biopic.

Seeing as it concerns boxing the comparisons to Raging Bull and Rocky have already been drawn, unfairly perhaps as this is one film as different from those efforts to make it stand on its own two feet of an example of perhaps not only one of the best sports films ever but one of the greatest, full stop. To call this a sports film seems prudent given the subject matter, small town boy makes it big in the ring against the backdrop of hardships from all and sundry, but it is not really until the final half hour that we enter full-on boxing movie mode. Up to this point the films that The Fighter harks towards are Gone Baby Gone and The Town, Affleck’s repertoire so far had the same gritty, taking it right to the streets flurry of emotions mined by The Fighter.

O’ Russell shoots in a more docu-style than Affleck did but this lends the film an excellent “look”, opening with faux interview footage we are thrust straight into the story and most importantly the characters, those afraid of Bale overacting as Dickie Ecklund will be eating there words, he totally becomes the man and admittedly he seems larger than life, something which closing footage of the guy himself puts paid to as the voice, every tic and his wiry frame were expertly embodied by Bale, surely one of the greatest actors of our time. Though as he himself has said he could only go “so big” having Wahlberg be so small, this is not a criticism and Wahlberg (as Micky Ward) is Bale’s opposite. Where Bale acts up and embodies a big man (in personality at least) Wahlberg proves his chops as he is subtle simply letting it all happen around him, again perfectly captured as per the real-life footage.

Surrounding the two leads are a veritable collection of spot-on turns, Melissa Leo and Amy Adams fully deserving their Oscar nods, though everyone plays it to perfection, not in a big movie-star way but in a totally immersive way that adds both a great deal of heart and the involving realism that only comes when you can forget you are watching actors…act! The knockout blow (excuse the pun!) comes as these, excellent, elements come together. So many films contain cracking performances, great direction or fantastic writing, The Fighter melds them all together but most astonishingly of all is that it doesn’t come off as a film desperate for awards glory, yes the superb aspects are all there but yu are as likely to go away feeling great as you are praising Bale.

This one, two punch of feel-good enjoyable film-making alongside accomplished and pitch-perfect film-making is not a quality often found, The King’s Speech nearly had it all while Black Swan was simply pretentious and over-wrought lacking anything to make you continue thinking about after you walked away. You will likely hear The Fighter commended as to how “good” it is, that is to say it’s about more than mere performance, its about making a quality product that touches all the basis whilst remaining with you, yearning for that second, third or fourth viewing!

VERDICT

The Fighter stands head and shoulders atop its peers, as it overcomes that hurdle of being simply made as Oscar-bait, though there is no doubt Bale deserves mention, the cast convince so much that you forget this is acting while it always manages to become a hugely enjoyable feel-good film as it dips in and out of genres and keeps the quality at an all-time high.

Starring: Sam Riley, Andrea Riseborough, Helen Mirren, Andy Serkis, John Hurt, Sean Harris, Steven Robertson

Director: Rowan Joffe

Writer(s): Rowan Joffe, Graham Greene (novel)

Cinematography: John Mathieson

Original Score: Martin Phipps

Running Time: 111 Mins.

Some films pulsate with a sense of doom, like an approaching storm, the dark clouds (figuratively and, occasionally here, literally) gather overhead and the mood builds to a tense and what could only be described as an explosive crescendo that really isn’t going to end well…for anyone. This descriptive mood fit many a film in the golden days of Hollywood, and the earlier phase of British cinema before it was overtaken by the cartoon characters of Lock, Stock and its ilk or the fumbling-bumbling of Hugh Grant, it was the era of noir. An era that Rowan Joffe (son of Roland) has decided to hark back to in a big way with his directorial debut.

That Joffe chose a remake of Brighton Rock for his modern-noir is hardly a surprise, the original was the pinnacle of the UK noir movement upon its release and has influenced many a great director since, Martin Scorsese and Terence Malick to name but two, one need look no furthr than Scorsese’s Shutter Island for very obvious visual nods. In fact this new Brighton Rock sits nicely along-side that DiCaprio starrer as a more intimate companion piece, echoing the themes of a fractured psyche and men with truly dubious agendas set against the cracking waves of an ominous ocean and the aforementioned dark clouds offering a British sibling to its Atlantic counterpart.

Without the comparison to the original (I’ve yet to watch it) this is very much a stand-alone review, I cannot draw comparisons between a “masterpiece” and its redo set in the confines of a new era, to me the mods and rockers backdrop of 1964 Brighton offers a setting that simply adds to the over-lying issue of the uprising of “youth” culture and perhaps even the beginnings of such an issue as we know it now. The story sees Pinkie, a young man and wannabe gangster find his hopes slowly build as he takes every opportunity to further his status in the town, after an altercation that results in Pinkie brutally murdering a man he must set about silencing a girl who may have seen too much…

This is not your usual guy falls for the girl under strange circumstances tale, something which endeared itself to me a lot. Going against expectation and sticking to your guns is admirable but the admiration does not end there, as Pinkie Sam Riley is hugely disturbing to watch, unpredictable and brutal with his emotions (largely held in) and his actions, every time he is onscreen, which is most of the time, the dread simply builds to unbearable levels. Without an excellent supporting cast however this would stand for very little, from Mirren to Harris each role is cast superbly and gives the film a level of gravitas (effortless from Hurt and Mirren to be fair).

Though performance, script and mood are all very well handled it is in the direction and cinematography that the stakes have really been raised, Joffe has an eye for a shot that is not always apparent in someone’s first feature, something which only makes me wonder where he will go from here visually. I’ve mentioned the mood and that is all thanks to the pacing, lighting and shots, seemingly abstract scenes of crashing waves and the masses of lights on the pier going out thump as the score in Shutter Island did (there are even echoes of that foghorn here), while that final inevitable conclusion approaches you are left wondering not whether anyone will come out of this well, but rather quite how badly everyone will come out of it…

VERDICT

Brighton Rock is a true noir, and you don’t get all too many of those nowadays, Joffe builds the tension to unbearable levels while Riley proves to be one of the most genuinely disturbing screen presence of British cinema for some time…Brighton certainly is on the move.

Starring: Reese Witherspoon, Owen Wilson, Paul Rudd, Jack Nicholson, Kathryn Hahn, Mark Linn-Baker

Director: James L. Brooks

Writer: James L. Brooks

Cinematography: Janusz Kaminski

Original Score: Hans Zimmer

Running Time: 116 Mins.

How Do You Know… what a film is about when the title is this obscure? You don’t, and quite frankly the terribly mis-judged trailers haven’t helped, the most likely reason that James L. Brooks latest film flopped rather badly stateside around its Christmas time release. It is odd that a company should find it so hard to market a rom-com starring Paul Rudd, Owen Wilson and Reese Witherspoon,usually box office gold however this fumbling of the material from an advertising perspective is perhaps most appropriate as the film itself has been equally fumbled by drama/comedy/romance/relationship tackling director James L. Brooks.

Brooks is a director, and writer, who likes to juggle a lot of balls mixing up romance with life-lessons, family dynamic and human emotion in general, sometimes this scope works to fantastic effect as with As Good As It Gets and Terms of Endearment but lately he is off the boil, Spanglish was an unmitigated (and dull) disaster with a lot riding of How Do You Know in terms of Brooks reputation its surprising he didn’t amass something a little more substantial, as it is this is film that very much sits dithering between love story, gentle comedy and father son dynamics.

Of all these threads none are explored fully, the fact that all the characters are in some kind of early mid-life crisis is the supposed under-lying question, asking what we should all be settling for in a relationship…or if we should settle at all but each plot beat is handled so feebly (Wilson questioning what it means to be in love and given the response “I know if I’m in love as I wear a condom with the other girls’) while others are lavished with far too much time, in particular a serious legal case of fraud levelled at Rudd’s George. It’s a very odd way of exploring the relationship between father (Nicholson) and son and achieves nothing but making both men seem totally selfish and corrupt in their personalities, with the only saving grace being that Nicholson get’s more screen-time as the story reaches its head.

A reported $150 million was lavished on How Do You Know, with 50 of that going to the actors and director, this fact is baffling given the end result, with no-one really putting much effort in, Witherspoon can do cute in her sleep and doesn’t hit any acting highs that hint she is an Oscar winner, likewise Nicholson who (enjoyably, admittedly) goes through the motions with Rudd and Wilson simply playing to type, though Wilson does at least manage to make a truly despicable character irascibly likeable! Even the supposed laughs feel forced, bouncing from lame one liners (such as the condom line), occasional physical humour (thanks to Rudd) and some supposedly sassy remarks from the female co-stars.

The most glaring error is that these people needed just a nudge to be a little more interesting, and a more involving narrative, and Brooks seems afraid of not being mainstream however in pandering to a mainstream audience he has omitted any of the skill or talent so displayed in the likes of As Good As It Gets, so a small step up from Spanglish but miles off the mark of quality the man was to be remembered as having.

VERDICT

How Do You Know dithers between mainstream rom-com and more considered character piece, and as it does this the film loses any momentum it may have once had. The performances are mildly enjoyable in a stereotypical way (with the main players never straying from type) but from a director with such promise this is a big bland effort that wants to say so much but ends up telling us nothing.

Starring: Matt Damon, Cecile De France, Charlie Creed-Miles, Rebekah Staton, Bryce Dallas Howard, Jay Mohr, Richard Kind, Thierry Neuvic

Director: Clint Eastwood

Writer: Peter Morgan

Cinematography: Tom Stern

Original Score: Clint Eastwood

Running Time: 129 Mins.

Hereafter comes to us amidst a wave of middling (at best) to downright-bad press from US critics and a certifiable flop at the box-office, certainly considering the pedigree which means that despite all the negativity it is an intriguing prospect of a film. Directed by Eastwood, tackling yet another genre and even at the age of 81 years of age proving he is far from stuck in his ways, and produced by Spielberg, though he does seem to find himself attached to all and sundry lately (Transformers for a start!) and scripted by Peter Morgan, who has turned in some brilliant character pieces with real dramatic thrust (The Queen and Frost/Nixon), and you have the elements for something special, especially given that this is a film tackling the afterlife.

All of which begs the question as to where it all went wrong? Or if indeed the US critics were the ones in the wrong, misunderstanding or expecting more from such high calibre input… The simple answer is that Hereafter is a perfectly fine piece of film-making, and maybe people expected more, audience and critics alike. Though fine hardly qualifies as a glowing endorsement Eastwood on an off day is usually better than most of the other drivel on release at the time.He is a man, who as said before is not content to rest on his laurels when it comes to genre, however there is enough of a mark in his style to do more than merely hnt that you’re watching something with his fingerprints all over it.

He isn’t flashy and never favours showing off, every scene feels full of purpose though not in a hurried way, far from it we know by now he likes to take his time, we spend stretches with people doing nothing for tens of seconds at a time, this may not sound much but in the stretch of a film it is, every shot feels purposeful with intent, details we know may become important later, characters given time to simply grow without a word, this is a master at work and when he has actors such as Damn (excellent, downplayed) and Bryce Dallas Howard (sweet and fragile, but all too brief) you could enjoy their scenes silence for quite some time.

But as with his last few efforts (Gran Torino and Inviction to name but two) the cast is filled out with amateurs. the twin boys in London are the main problem, and as good a director the great man is he simply cannot guide his young actors towards a convincing turn. This wouldn’t matter so much if them conveying real characters wasn’t as key to the emotional thrust of the plot as it is, likewise Cecile De France (who is usually a very good actress) seems lost for the films majority, and makes it nigh on impossible to find any empathy for her character. These are grave mis-steps as the film takes the form of three strands, converging rather forcefully at the end, meaning that of three only one proves both convincing AND enjoyably interesting.

That’s not to say those threads are a total disaster, an opening tsunami sets a deceptive tone, riling you up emotionally from the off with elements of a better overall and less disjointed film to be found somewhere, and each strand has its own look or feel. They are all so clearly Eastwood but he tackles the London-based scenes nicely avoiding an overhaul of cliché with red-buses only fleetingly seen and big ben simply there to give us some sense of place and time though edging towards Ken Loach territory with druggie mothers and likes like “now we can be a real family” feeling very un-Eastwood like. But bearing in mind that Spielberg was set to direct initially we probably had a lucky escape in terms of the schmaltz factor!

VERDICT

Hereafter is a work-man-like effort for Eastwood, never stretching himself (oddly considering such unique subject matter) the opening sets the emotion high, though this is a film of three parts and only one can keep up that momentum fully with some great work by Damon that is sadly balanced out by a bunch of amateurs in London. Sadly not as good, or intriguing, as it should have been.