“It’s amazing how physically exhausting it can be to do nothing.”
The Killer
Fincher crime movies are almost a sub-genre of their own — we know how they will feel (isolated and tense) and how they will look (heavy shadows with single colour lighting). Adapted from a French graphic novel, The Killer opens intriguingly with Fassbender’s assassin trying to keep his mind occupied as he waits for a target in Paris. The initial half hour is effectively an extended voiceover monologue, peppered with some interesting references — he quotes Aleister Crowley, though not by name, and refers to sniper assassinations as “Annie Oakley jobs”. Fassbender embodies the character gamely, measured movements and psychologically intense, but he cannot make the writing seem profound (“if I’m effective it’s for one simple fact: I don’t give a fuck”). The voiceover continues as the film shifts into a slow revenge story, and one can see the influence of the Dexter series, though it lacks any of Dexter’s disturbed charm or poetry. The film’s somber tone rarely changes although, in a brief appearance late in the film, Tilda Swinton manages to instill some suspense during a confrontation. Its production may be slick, but The Killer is retreading very well-trodden ground and its grand insight is that hitmen are patient, can’t afford empathy, and live by a code. Who knew? If you want to spend two hours being told this, perhaps you too have the patience to be an assassin.
5/10
I have intentionally not re-read the book prior to viewing the film as I wished to experience it anew, while hoping for the story to rekindle the same emotions it had as a child. As comparisons with Peter Jackson’s Lord of the Rings are inevitable I shall not shy away from them but would offer as a warning that this is a very different film and a viewer who approaches it with the same expectations will be sorely disappointed. Equally, though it be a magical children’s story, it is something vastly predating Harry Potter and bears little resemblance below the surface. Rather it is something of a hybrid, epic children’s fantasy, in a way that will only truly become evident if the franchise does extend to further films (all seven books have been optioned, although The Horse and His Boy seems an unlikely candidate for a film).
Given several television adaptations it is easy to regard this film as somewhat redundant. However, the impressive production values and Weta’s involvement in bringing the creatures to life makes this a much easier world in which to lose oneself. Nevertheless one must still approach it with an open childlike imagination in order to experience its full effect. It remains very true to C.S. Lewis’ book in both style and content. Although changes are evident, the Biblical imagery, particularly that embodied in Aslan, remains both intact and prominent.
Narnia itself feels less expansive than I would have liked, perhaps due to the lack of the lingering, sweeping panoramic shots of The Fellowship of the Ring. Despite this, it feels inherently magical from the first moment Lucy scrambles into its snow-covered forest. The soundtrack provides an enchanting accompaniment in the first half, becoming somewhat more routine further in. The battle sequences showcase Weta’s work with polar bear-drawn chariots and dozens of centaurs charging into battle. These are not the dark clashes of LOTR, however, but rather the epic fantasy battles of a child’s imagination with shining armour and bloodless swords.