director: Scott Cooper
writer: Scott Cooper, Thomas Hobb (novel)
starring: Jeff Bridges, Maggie Gyllenhaal, Colin Farrell, Jack Nation, Robert Duvall
running time: 112 mins
rating: 15
My real name’ll be on my tombstone.
‘Til then I’ll just stay Bad.
Trailers made Crazy Heart look like a country music version of The Wrestler, a first impression that proves entirely accurate. While Bridge’s impeccable turn as Bad Blake may be more understated than Mickey Rourke (and lacking the certain poignance granted by Rourke’s own tumultuous life), both offer similar introspective views of a washed-up professionals trying to rebuild their careers and their lives.
Bad Blake [Jeff Bridges], once a massive country music star, now finds himself playing low key gigs in small town dives while his protégé Tommy Sweet [Colin Farrell] has soared to success. Rundown, broke and alcoholic, Bad stubbornly refuses Tommy’s help, feeling betrayed by the younger star. Ditching his meaningless trysts with older fans after becoming enamoured with a reporter [Maggie Gyllenhaal] and her son, Bad finds something to live for and ultimately inspiration for his songwriting and a reason to clean up his life.
The entire film rests on Bridges’ very capable shoulders, and the veteran actor absolutely embodies Bad Blake. He capable handles the singing role while exhibiting enough charm that we see both the former star and the spark to which a much younger woman would be attracted. The detailed nuance to the performance is impressive, from his resigned gaze and gait to a stumbling alcoholic stupor that never stoops to caricature. There is a wider supporting cast than in The Wrestler, though all are clearly there to support Bridges. Gyllenhaal handles her role as the love interest believably and sympathetically, and Colin Farrell tones down his charm while retaining his star presence. He sings impressively and Sweet’s respect for his mentor is clear.
Crazy Heart may offer little new, but the palpable honest simplicity of Scott Cooper’s directorial debut shines. Accompanied by a stirring country soundtrack, it offers such a strong central performance that one cannot help but be caught up in Bad’s redemptive tale, and it demands to be seen whether or not you are a country music aficionado.
The selection of Daniel Craig as the new Bond sparked an outcry at the idea of this blonde-haired, blue-eyed Bond. I was a vocal supporter having seen him carry Layer Cake and later his memorable supporting role in Munich. Now I expect even his most ardent critics to be floored by the transformation Bond has undergone in arguably his best incarnation yet.
Comparison can be drawn with the return to the Dark Knight’s roots in Batman Begins. Similarly the tone shifts to a darker, more gritty world. The action sequences are far more gripping for the simple reason that in contrast to the old clean, almost clinical, violence, now when Bond fights he gets hurt. After killing two men in a stairwell his white shirt is drenched crimson with blood, in later scenes we see his face scarred from earlier fights. The film pushes its 12A rating with two uncomfortably protracted strangulation scenes.
The villains are all competent yet standard. However Green provides one of the most fascinating bond girls to date. She is required to combine verve and depth in her character as well as luscious good looks, and she pulls it off fantastically. Verbally sparring with Bond, she is a refreshing change from vacuous tedium of the average “love” interest. She is also the pivotal point for Bond’s shifting character as we see Bond emerge from a shell and mature in this film. As he stares into the camera with those incredibly bold blue eyes at the end, telling us his name, we know he will be back and could not be happier.
A Catholic who lights fireworks on the 5th of November, blissfully unaware of the irony, is not wrong, merely telling. V’s continual references to Guy Fawkes, not least in his masked visage, undoubtedly flew over the heads of most American viewers and may have been largely a distraction. Yet even in the UK we have largely forgotten him, as the film itself points out. Resurrecting the figure as an icon, V For Vendetta is based loosely upon a comicbook by Alan Moore (who, as usual, has distanced himself from the project), translated by the Wachowskis into a near future that more closely parallels our own timeline.
The film’s most chilling line is the high chancellor’s enraged cry, “I want them to remember why they need us!” as he feels his vice-like grip over the population beginning to slip. The idea that control of population, largely through fear, is paramount provides a vision that could easily be applied to more than one western government. Yet although our perspective leads us to side with V from the start, room is given for us to question his actions and even the state in which he leaves things. Weaving does well in giving a masked character a little personality, though most of the acting is decent but unremarkable. It is really a film of impressive moments, climaxing with the fantastic domino montage, but even together they are not significant enough to warrant revisiting.
The fault lies largely with the Wachowskis’ script. While the story unfolds wonderfully, like the Matrix sequels it is plagued by the fact that the writing is never quite as clever as it thinks it is. Aside from the initial alliterative v-filled vernacular of V’s first verbose vocalisation (err, sorry) little of the dialogue is worth commenting upon. Its aggressive palette of reds and blacks is not as stylised as a Superhero movie, but we edge towards easy Nazi imagery instead of the more indirect 1984. It is grounded by its real-world setting, giving the ideas voiced more gravitas than in a fantasy one. The media parallels drawn are eerily accurate, but the political side is soporifically blunt. It might be viewed as a bold statement in this respect, and is certainly enjoyable and engaging in its storytelling, but it lacks the clarity to leave you thinking for very long once the credits roll. Nevertheless as a wake-up call, reminding people to pay attention to where our nations and our governments are headed, it may just do its job.
This year’s first truly inventive film arrives with little flourish but plenty of style. Rian Johnson’s directorial début moves classic noir into a high school environment in what would be a gimmick if it were about visual appearances, but is instead about heart.
The noir translates jarringly at first to its new setting. Unconvincing teenage characters shoot the sharp dialogue of the 1940’s, but the strength of the delivery of this world will soon draw you in. Visually Johnson doesn’t go the way of 
The fusion allows the school administration to become another presence of authority, usually provided by the police, as Brendan’s vice-principal reminds him, “You’ve helped this office out before.” The school itself has no character and is greyed out, perhaps intentionally to avoid it becoming a focal point. However when the students’ underworld are delicately balanced with their normal lives, it seems odd that the school plays so small a role. Perhaps it serves to highlight that it is in the gritty outside world that these youths truly live.
In completing King Kong Jackson both fulfilled a childhood dream and showed just how valuable a well-timed remake can be, even if the original is as iconic a masterpiece as this. Another combination of Andy Serkis’ acting skills with Weta technology, we are granted an utterly real Kong, visually rather than just by drawing us into the fantasy world as with the previous films.
Most will tell you that at over three hours the film is excessively long: it is not Lord of the Rings. However they will disagree over what should be cut. Over an hour is spent on establishment before we even see the beast, and Jackson delves into the backstories of all our characters. Although a proper understanding of Darrow and Denham’s motives is key, the history of the ship’s crew is somewhat unnecessary. Once the action begins, however, it is utterly riveting. It is any action adventure afficionado’s dream with man versus giant insects, man versus dinosaur, dinosaur versus Kong, and of course, man versus Kong. Skull Island’s creatures are phenomenal, peaking with a ten minute brawl between Kong and three tyranosaurs. For this alone, it is must-see on the big screen.
The weakest portion of the film is probably the return to New York City. Although one of the finest special effects is this historical recreation, once Kong breaks loose we have the army called in when the ostensible body count is virtually zero. The closing lines are a horrible and rather abrupt end to a poignant demise. I suspect a director’s cut may alter this closing scene. The scenes which absolutely cannot be cut, and indeed it is doubtful could be improved upon, are the intimate moments between Darrow and Kong. Shots of them watching a sunset together and her dancing for him are astounding in both their beauty and sincere simplicity. The human expressions etched upon Kong’s face will remain with the viewer long after the movie ends.
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.