Legend (2015)

Review:

Two for the price of one: Tom Hardy gives standout performances fighting and frolicking in this fun, but flawed, film.

Legend, directed by Brian Helgeland (most notably the screenwriter of the sensational L.A. Confidential), stars Tom Hardy in a double-act performance as both Ronnie and Reggie Kray – the infamous East End gangsters. Their story has frequently been told, showing them to be vilified, glamourised, or even a bit of both… so can Legend’s re-telling pack a punch?

I was relieved that the film certainly does take a different stance on the Kray twins’ story, and I can say assuredly that Legend is much more enjoyable than 1990’s The Krays, which starred the rather non-twin-looking Kemp brothers. Whilst Legend’s narrative prefers to focus on “epic” fight scenes and the Krays at their darkest, instead of exploring how they became that way, it was superb to see a version that is finally steering away from the usual story of them simply being psychopathic mummy’s boys – I’ve always found it aggravating that people underestimate and deny the Krays’ personal accountability for their own actions. In a culture where blame (especially on mothers for their child’s behaviour) is still so commonplace, it’s refreshing to witness an alternative in this film. 

I also applaud how the film managed the illusion of Tom Hardy playing both brothers, and, of course, Hardy’s two very strong performances in recreating these two completely different people onscreen. Hardy masterfully moves from true brotherly tenderness and love to bursting with ferocity and frustration within a single frame, and it’s extraordinary to witness. Apart from some slightly fumbled and awkward fight scenes between the two characters, which, understandably, must have been extremely difficult to film, there wasn’t a minute where you would doubt that you were watching two identical twins onscreen. Another great aspect of Legend is how both Hardy and the script don’t shy away from Ronnie’s homosexuality and mental health problems – there is one particular piece of dialogue that might have you rolling in the aisle! However, the film ultimately belongs to saner of the two: Reggie.

Emily Browning, likewise, gives a solid performance as Reggie’s wife Frances. Browning skilfully demonstrates that just because Frances was “mentally fragile”, it doesn’t mean she wasn’t also a fiery and plucky force. Both Hardy and Browning give sterling individual performances, but when it came to Reggie and Frances’s relationship, I personally felt it was portrayed as quite shallow and unconvincing. Additionally, the movie’s narrative was guided using Frances’s viewpoint as a voiceover, but it really didn’t require it. The narrative basically wasn’t consistent throughout the film, which is one thing it should be in this sort of film; it simply distracted from the flow of the plot, jarring when it did pop up again suddenly here and there.

Nevertheless, Legend is a visual treat. The graphics and production design create a dramatic 60s London landscape, and I’ve always been a sucker for 60s costumes! Whilst the movie may not be a momentous piece of filmmaking, I feel it successfully captivates its audience enough to warrant multiple watches in the future - if only for a double dose of Tom Hardy.

Straight Outta Compton (2015)

Review:

Rap Appreciation 101: A lesson in how to love a very misunderstood music genre.

Straight Outta Compton is everything We Are Your Friends (see my review here) wanted to be but wasn’t. Being far from a rap fan myself, I must admit that I was initially hesitant about seeing this film, but ultimately I found myself realising I was one of the prime audience demographics targeted in order for the film to get its message across, and any initial dread was soon punched out of me by one knockout film.

Directed by F. Gary Gray (whose name turned out to be a bit of a tongue twister for me when I was reviewing this gem on the radio), Straight Outta Compton documents the rise of N.W.A in the late 80s to early 90s; a group generally credited with creating the influential ‘Gangsta Rap’ movement. We are expertly guided through some of their most defining moments, including Dr. Dre and Ice Cube’s turbulent rise to fame: two huge entities in contemporary culture that, even if you’ve been living under a rock all your life, you will have heard of these men.

 A striking aspect of Straight Outta Compton is the relevance it still holds in today’s social climate – during the film we are persistently inundated with distressing scenes of the ongoing race rows in America, where black people are intimidated and thrown to the ground by police, made more profound with all the events happening in Ferguson and elsewhere in America right now. This cleverly enables audiences outside this particular social context to tap into the fascinating story of how and why a band like N.W.A formed when and where they did. These were young men who were sick, tired, and damn angry at the injustice and oppression they were continuously subjected to. Skilfully portraying this anger were the young lead actors Corey Hawkins, O’Shea Jackson Jr. (the freakishly spitting image of his father Ice Cube) and Jason Mitchell, whose gutsy and exuberant performances make this film a compelling piece of storytelling. Stylish and powerful shots of stadium performances of tracks, such as, “Fuck Tha Police” were superb, and it was visibly tough for us cinema-goers to stop ourselves from fist punching the air when those first beats pump into play, defying the cops stalking through the concert crowd. These scenes perfectly juxtapose the gritty handheld shots of some rather harrowing events, giving a stark reminder of the costs of N.W.A’s journey to fame.

A difficult aspect of Straight Outta Compton is the outright misogyny depicted - often with graphic close-ups of how the women in these circles were treated like meat and entertainment for the young, up-and-coming men of the moment. Whilst this most certainly unacceptable behaviour is a challenging watch for any audience member, it must be understood that the film is documenting what happened at a specific time, and presents how these young men learnt how to handle the life they were dealt in 1980s Los Angeles. Omission of Dr. Dre’s violence towards women has been widely reported, and, although this is certainly understandable, one reason for this could be that the film ultimately belongs to Eazy-E; the film’s narrative arc begins and ends with him. One beneficial thing, nevertheless: Straight Outta Compton‘s smart audience members have brought this discussion of violence against women back into mainstream news, despite it not actually being shown on screen.

Conclusively, Straight Outta Compton succeeds in going beyond any previous assumptions you are likely to hold when you enter the cinema. This movie is a slice of cultural history that will educate and hopefully inspire a new generation. Straight Outta Compton - Parental advisory: explicit (but fucking awesome) content.

We Are Your Friends (2015)

Review:

A film that bears great similarity to a prolonged dance music video – all style, no substance.

A directorial debut for Max Joseph and starring teenybopper heartthrob Zac Efron as the main character Cole, We Are Your Friends is the tale of an aspiring Hollywood Electronic Dance Music DJ, embroiled in love, friendship and work dramas – all the usual clichéd situations of your average three-act movie. Cole, along with his three friends, progresses from putting on party nights to attract “bitches”, to befriending a troubled, worn out mentor called James (Wes Bentley) in order to become a successful DJ in his own right. Oh and also he falls in love with his mentor’s girlfriend Sophie (Emily Ratajkowski) on the journey.

The first issue (of many) I have with this film is the story’s lack of credulity. Dialogue was forced and lacked any depth – even during an emotional incident in the final act. In order to distract from this, we are presented with a great number of beautiful scenic shots with Zac Efron looking mean, moody and supposedly thoughtful, but even this couldn’t provide much profundity to the film. The repetition of these shots just ended up adding to the tedium of We Are Your Friends.

Whilst Mr. Efron’s natural charm and charisma are by far the strongest aspect of the film, it’s still a push to like him as Cole, or, in fact, any of the film’s characters. We’re basically delivered the typical dish of a load of males living out their bromance sessions during a quest to become successful for money, drugs, girls and more girls. Ratajkowski’s Sophie, pretty much the only speaking female in the film, was said to be extremely skilled and intelligent, but her whole life seemed to revolve around what either one of her male love interests were doing – or what they required. We see her afforded some agency and independence in the last few minutes of the film, but, as is usual in such fare, it’s a case of too little, too late.

There were some vaguely interesting aspects in We Are Your Friends of how DJs work and the intricacies of how Electronic Dance Music is created and subsequently performed. However, this isn’t built on throughout the film and is utterly undermined by long, lingering close-ups on jiggling parts of the female anatomy. If these are the kind of people who are our friends, I think we’re better off alone.

Amy (2015)

Review:

A tragic tale of a talented young woman, which beautifully serves as a raw warning and a stark reminder.

Amy by Asif Kapadia was always going to be a difficult watch for me. This is not necessarily because I am the world’s biggest Amy Winehouse superfan, but due to experiences within my own family. A week after Amy Winehouse passed away, I also lost my aunt to alcoholism and my partner is a fellow musician who is a recovering alcoholic. This instilled in me a sense of dread about how the singer and her addictions would be depicted, but I need not have worried, as I was presented with an utterly honest and heartfelt portrayal.

Amy tells the desperately sad story of Amy Winehouse’s rise, fall and eventual final push on the self-destruct button; helped by millions of other fingers and even some of those who were closest to her. It’s not surprising that Amy’s father, Mitch Winehouse, has been so angered by the film when it illustrates not particularly flattering evidence of him putting her fame and fortune before her wellbeing. Suddenly the lyrics to her hit song ‘Rehab’ become extremely poignant - especially when we see them scrawled on the screen in her handwriting over images of a girl clearly crying out for help. Some of you, like myself, may simply know of her hit songs, yet undoubtedly feel you know every intimate detail of her downfall thanks to how it was laid out with such ferocity by the media. The fact that Amy has broken box office records for a non-fiction film is probably indicative of the obsession and fascination that grew to shroud her in life. However, whilst she continues to draw in the crowd through this film, hopefully it is forcing audiences to re-evaluate previous notions of her and others who are currently still battling addiction in the media circus we are constantly spectators of.

Kapadia has cleverly used that tactic of purely using real-life images and footage of Amy Winehouse, without any talking head interview shots. By doing this, he is turning what used to saturate our screens, magazines and newspapers on themselves for a refreshingly different purpose – for education, not destruction. At times, we are forced to sit through long shots of her battling her way through what feels like thousands upon thousands of paparazzi flashbulbs in our faces, which, in a small screen, began to feel extremely suffocating. At this point you begin to understand what Kapadia is attempting to show us about how times like these may have possibly made Amy Winehouse, a clear hater of the limelight, feel at the height of her fame. On top of this, we are taken on a journey through her life told by her nearest and dearest, brilliantly narrating her story over home videos (sometimes shot by her) because she is no longer here to do so. [This is where we start seeing some benefit to film technology being accessible to pretty much everyone.] This personal touch is once again Kapadia reminding us of how easy it is to lose touch with our valuable sense of reality and humanity; with celebrity culture continuing to gain more and more momentum in our society, we are constantly prodded and reminded to remember the dark consequences of such a life… it’s most definitely not all it’s cracked up to be.

Whilst there are tears aplenty (even though, according to my mum, I hid them quite well… the bonus of wearing glasses, eh?!), do expect some comic elements to shine through. Amy Winehouse’s sharp wit and cutting comments throughout certain archive interview footage provide some laugh out loud moments for the audience. You may even, at times, feel like you’re squirming in your seat during particularly painful images of a woman patently in trouble and remembering the copious amounts of jokes tossed around about her, but you will be guaranteed an immersive experience into a film that isn’t afraid to dive into the deep end of this tragedy; a reminder that we are all human and no-one should ever become simply a commodity. As the film ended, the cinema was left silent, and I was once again reminded of the sheer storytelling powers that documentaries can possess… when done right.

Going Clear: Scientology and the Prison of Belief (2015)

Review:

Giggling, grimacing and gaining clarity – Going Clear brilliantly provides insight into the evils of the religion of Scientology.

I’m a little behind on getting this review out into the blogosphere because finding showings of this film was a toughie. Those at the top of the Church of Scientology have been bringing out the big guns (their lawyers) to attempt to quash this film gaining any voice. As I found in this film, this type of practice from them is more commonplace than Scientologists sycophantically applauding life size portraits of the late creepy creator of Scientology, L. Ron Hubbard. Quickly pop over to Google and search the name of the film and the first site you will come across is alexgibneypropaganda.com, set up, paid for and run by Scientologists to try and tarnish any damning evidence Alex Gibney has thrown at them. Even when I was chatting to my fellow film geek friend, she was under the assumption that Going Clear is a ‘mockumentary’! After finally getting to watch this film in a dinky screen of an Arts Picturehouse, I can assuredly say that it is far from that and you start to understand why Scientologists are panicking. Going Clear is likely to be the most important film this year that you probably won’t get to see.

As someone who already finds blind faith and organised religion rather baffling and uncomfortable notions, what unfolded on the screen began to feel more of a horror movie than a documentary. Going Clear tells a tale that seems oh so familiar to the stories of Jim Jones and Jonestown, just with less of the Kool Aid, more of the money and lots of Tom Cruise. Based on Lawrence Wright’s book, Going Clear delivers to the audience an in-depth look into the bizarre history and world of Scientology. Gibney expertly examines all aspects of the religion and its often invasive and disturbing practices. I frequently found myself mesmerised by the use of poignant archive footage when accompanied by the haunting soundtrack, whilst being drawn into the main narrative told by the exceptionally well-executed interviews with those who have lived as Scientologists before escaping its grasp…well…as much as they possibly can.

The film is not without its humour though. Whether it’s our peek at the downright weird corporate-style promotional videos (the Pope may want to take note of how not to do it if he ever decides to take a similar route for distracting people from Catholicism’s sometimes dodgy activities in the future), the happy clappy sing-a-long “We Stand Tall” video of David Miscavige and other top Scientologist executives, or interview footage of Tom Cruise jabbering on in the rather crazy manner he has become known for, all led to chuckles from myself and the few other cinemagoers around me. However, as I’m sure was Gibney’s intention, these giggle moments just made what is really going on behind those seemingly impenetrable gates of Scientology even more horrific. The clear and apparent embarrassment and shame felt by the interviewees when they try to understand their naivety for sticking through all the craziness for so long (some around 30 years) became even more heartbreaking. You could be forgiven for going into this film assuming that these people were foolish and brought it all upon themselves, but you leave feeling a sense of pity and fear for all the other men, women and children who are still so deeply trapped within the organisation that they are willing to cast out or “disconnect” with their own family members forever, simply because they are told their loved ones are SP - “suppressive persons”. 

Going Clear is further evidence of Alex Gibney’s skill at being able to tell intriguing stories about the disturbing activities of certain echelons within our society that often happen, and are allowed to happen, right under our noses; the seemingly mundane skilfully crafted into chilling exposés. When I left the cinema, I was unsure whether to laugh or cry and started to hope that what I had witnessed was indeed a ‘mockumentary’, as my friend had first thought. That soon grew into a strong sense of anger, a determination to get others to see the film, and the feeling of needing a shower to wash off the years of seeing any films starring Tom Cruise.

Spy (2015)

Review:

“The name’s Cooper, Susan Cooper.” Move over James Bond, there’s a new superstar special agent in town.

Before watching Spy, I must admit that I didn’t really have any expectations either way. I think this is probably because the film wasn’t particularly pushed prior to release, but I have learnt that having tons of adverts adorning buses and billboards is not necessarily an indication of the whether a film is going to rock our world (Spider-Man 3 still being the best example of this… yikes!). However, write/director Paul Feig (Bridesmaids [2011] and The Heat [2013]), reunited with comedy queen Melissa McCarthy, provided me with 120 minutes of top-notch silliness that luckily had plenty of heart and soul to go along with it. Plus, as I’m sure has become apparent to you all, I love me a strong female character, and Melissa McCarthy as Susan ‘Coop’ Cooper does not let me down. Hooray!

  

Assumedly bashful and sweet-natured CIA agent Susan Cooper is initially deskbound and behind-the-scenes, but after her fellow agents’ identities are compromised, she steps up and takes her place in the field proclaiming in an attitude, “anything you can do, I can do better”. With everyone’s assumption being that Coop’s main strength for this super dangerous mission is that she’s “invisible”, she ends up becoming the brilliance of this film. Not only does Spy take delight in ridiculing the whole machismo of the popular Spy thrillers, Feig is unafraid to take Hollywood conventions (and his male characters) down a peg or two. Any societal expectations or jokes aimed at or about a woman like Coop end up being thrown back into the faces of those idiotic enough to make them. Susan Cooper is certainly an agent with agency, showing up the incompetency of those around her. She is able to easily and wittily undermine gruff, tough Agent Rick Ford (Jason Statham) during a clichéd monologue of the formidable situations he’s endured, which is delivered, of course, in a very manly and red-blooded manner. Our other lead male secret agent is Bradley Fine (Jude Law) – who is Fine by name, fine by nature. Clearly a parody of our home-grown 007, he is suave, handsome, and quite frankly, a bit of an arse. As someone who has never been a fan of the James Bond character (sorry to offend you Bondaholics, but at least you have Spectre to look forward to later this year), this portrayal was pretty satisfying for me.

Instead of the usual storylines of women needing to have some sort of physical transformation in order to display how they have positively evolved throughout the film, McCarthy’s character has the freedom to simply grow into the “badass” agent she deserves to be. A playful two fingers up the at these kind of norms was most definitely with the secret weapons given to Coop – items that could be seen as essentials in any stereotypical spinster’s handbag, they doubled as fierce tools fit for any brutal undercover agent. My personal favourite was the rape whistle that was actually a blow-dart - I wonder when those’ll be available on Amazon?!

Whilst Spy remains a parody of the many, many Spy thrillers out in the Moviesphere, it is still full to the brim of extremely well choreographed action sequences alongside the laughs. Many may feel that that Feig has thrown in certain violent and foul-mouthed scenes so as to appease those purely looking for action and a chuckle, rather than to observe the strong females showing up the incompetency of their male counterparts (à la me), but luckily as someone with a rather sweary vernacular, this just became part of the fun. Spy, like Bridesmaids and The Heat, was an unexpected and pleasant surprise, making me to look forward to the new Ghostbusters reboot. It may not go down in the Almanac of Film History as the most progressive and forward-thinking film, but for Hollywood, at least it’s a motherf**king step forwards.

Jurassic World (2015)

Review: 

A film less about Jurassic creatures and more about Jurassic viewpoints.

*May contain a few small spoilers*

I entered the cinema expecting to be thrown back in time to that thrilling experience I had 22 years ago with Jurassic Park. Not only did trailers and press articles promise this, but my peers also proclaimed on Twitter and Facebook the joy they felt being taken back to their childhood days by the latest offering in the Steven Spielberg franchise, Jurassic World. Instead, I found myself leaving the cinema asking why I had just been invited to enter a world where the technology is light-years ahead, and yet I’m being presented with such old-fashioned representations of female characters?

Jurassic World, directed by Colin Trevorrow and starring Bryce Dallas Howard and Hollywood’s latest golden-boy Chris Pratt, offers the audience a film about a slick and high-tech dinosaur theme park that has become a fully functioning tourist attraction, but one that still feels compelled to resort to the flash-and-bang of genetically modified dinosaurs to peak further interest from growingly desensitized audiences and investors. However, the conscientious owner and the enthusiastic staff of Jurassic World soon realise that they, unlike their new designer dinosaur ‘Indominus Rex’, have most definitely bitten off more than they can chew when things go desperately awry. Dun Dun Duuuuuuun.

Let’s begin with the good stuff. I cannot deny that Jurassic World gives us the action we all crave in abundance, which will undoubtedly be fulfilling enough for many viewers. The fact that the film has scored the biggest opening weekend in history will attest to this. The visual effects also impress, and they remain at a high standard throughout - I found that the CGI dinosaurs still had the ability to provide me with the nightmare-inducing terror they once did to a mini-me. Throughout the first part of the film, I also rather enjoyed what appeared to be a humble view of the dangers of using animals/creatures as tools for amusement, and felt the comments on the lengths some would go so as to spark interest and acquire cash pertinent. In the case of Jurassic World, this means creating a new species of dinosaur whose sole aim is to horrify parents and children alike in order to satisfy the needs of a culture that is growing to consume and become bored by the spectacular at a remarkably quick rate. This is particularly poignant with the current controversies surrounding the likes of SeaWorld.

Nevertheless, as the film powered on, a confused feeling spread over me. I started to wonder what kind of ride the writers wanted to take us on through this brand new theme park: is it a story of romance… a family in crisis… boys becoming men… nurturing staff members and conservation… rogue staff members with big bucks on their minds… corrupt scientists fulfilling their own career agendas… oh and of course, man’s place in the world (hello, man-eating-dinosaurs)?

Whilst I can sit through the attempts at building a detailed, whilst strained, story, what I cannot forgive about Jurassic World is the head in hands ridiculousness of the portrayal of the female characters. You may think I am speaking metaphorically, but, as my partner who was sat next to me can attest, I genuinely had a face/palm moment at a certain scene in particular, which I will come back to later.

Not only was there a quite a shameful lack of female characters in the film, they were just SCREAMING, CRYING or DYING. The film was also craving a younger female character, such as, the feisty and intelligent computer hacker that was Lex Murphy, played by Ariana Richards in the 1993 Jurassic Park. Whilst I feel Simpkins was strong as the younger brother Gray, Robinson’s broody older brother who turns protective and sincere was less believable, meaning the sibling relationship missed out of the dynamic of the sister/brother duo in Jurassic Park. When considering the differences between the first blockbuster and this latest instalment, I cannot help but compare Laura Dern’s Dr. Ellie Sattler with Howard’s Claire. Whilst Dern’s character was able to display several personality traits at once: good at her job, caring and daring, and all whilst being uncompromising of what she wants out of life and her relationship with Dr Grant, Howard’s character seems quite the opposite, and it is left to Chris Pratt’s Owen Grady to have it all this time around: smart, talented, caring, good at his job, brave…your archetypal Hollywood male hero! Howard’s Claire, who is clearly very successful and works hard in her job, is made out to be stuffy, cold and even frigid because of this. We are constantly reminded that this is due to the fact she has no children and therefore must not be able to possess a semblance of empathy. I thought we were past the stereotypical image of the barren power-grabbing woman now? Come on Jurassic World! Why can’t Howard’s character have it all like Grady, or her predecessor Dr. Sattler?

 

Never fear, though, as Howard’s character was allowed to have some heroic moments…hooray! These moments, however, were unbelievably fleeting as they were in all instances undermined. As an example, there is a pretty badass moment when Claire saves Owen’s life from a stabbing and grabbing pterodactyl, only for Owen to then grab her, kiss her and make her go weak at the knees - just to remind the audience that her role should be as the male protagonist’s love interest (and for those paying attention to this blog – this was the face/palm moment I was talking about earlier). I was also deeply frustrated that Claire’s key moment in the third act of the film ended up with her running in slow motion with an awful lot of skin on show – hello, male gaze! This is textbook sexism. This also begs the question: why have her clothes become tattered rags as if she’s actually wrestled one of the dinosaurs, whilst Pratt’s costume remains completely intact? Sigh.

Ultimately, these aspects of the film led to its downfall for me. The most delightful and witty parts of Jurassic World were the iconic soundtrack ringing around the cinema and the nostalgic scenes harking back to the preceding films that make you excitedly nudge the person next to you to check that they noticed it too – the moment with the jeeps and eye-lense-helmet-things was a really nice touch. If, however, these elements were the main strength of the film, maybe it would be best to dust off the originals and have a night in?