Monday, September 29, 2003


ONCE UPON A TIME IN MEXICO
Sunday 28 September 2003
Stratford Picture House, London E15 VISIT

Welcome to the third and final instalment of Robert Rodriguez’s El Mariachi trilogy, a film so stuffed with ideas, characters and plot lines that it explodes into an utterly confusing, thoroughly enjoyable but ultimately chaotic mess.

This is going to be hard to summarise but I’ll try. Antonio Banderas’ wandering guitar player and gunman, El Mariachi, is offered the chance to come out of retirement by maverick CIA agent Sands (Johnny Depp), in order to kill his nemesis Marquez, who killed his wife (Salma Hayek, in a surprisingly minor role told completely in flashback). But not before Marquez has staged a coup against the President of Mexico on behalf of Barillo, a drug lord (Willem Defoe with an amusing moustache). Barillo, meanwhile, is planning a little plastic surgery in order to disappear for good. There is also a corrupt member of an elite police unit, a retired FBI agent out to avenge the death of his partner, Micky Rourke as slightly effete gangster on the run and everyone gleefully betraying everyone else. And more bullets flying than the Normandy landings.

With so much going on, it often seems that Antonio Banderas, the star of the previous film, has no more screen time than many other characters. Johnny Depp in particular repeats his brilliant performance in Pirates of the Caribbean by utterly upstaging everyone as the supposedly ‘undercover’ CIA operative wandering the streets wearing a CIA T-shirt and hiding a gun in a prosthetic arm. His character has the best and funniest lines and his final battle, amidst the revolution he has created and looking like one of the Day of the Dead masks that are a signature of the film, is just great. It’s a shame that by crowding so much in, some of the emphasis on the action is lost. It is also a shame that El Mariachi, essentially an outlaw anti-hero, suddenly becomes a ‘son of Mexico’ in a moment of charmlessly jingoistic nationalism that says a great deal about the influence of Hollywood on Rodriguez.

As I said, great fun but Desperado, the big budget remake of the original El Mariachi, is a better film. If only Rodriguez had stuck with its simplicity and coupled it with Depp’s forceful performance, ‘Once Upon A Time in Mexico’ would have been a more worthy tribute to those old Sergio Leone spaghetti westerns.


RAISING VICTOR VARGAS
Saturday 27 September 2003
The OTHER Cinema, London W1 VISIT

After the ‘Stop the War’ march, which was inspiring, a friend and I went over to the OTHER Cinema, formerly the Metro, for what turned out to be an inspiring and often very funny film about the lives of Latino teenagers in Manhattan’s Lower East Side. Not a bad day really.

‘Raising Victor Vargas’ tells the story of Victor, who lives in a tiny apartment that he shares with his brother Nino, sister Vicky and his grandmother, an immigrant from Dominica who sees Victor as a bad influence on his siblings. It’s an environment where there is no privacy, where everyone knows everyone else’s business, which is tough on Victor, who insists he is a “very private person.” At the swimming pool, he sets his sights on Judy, the prettiest girl in the neighbourhood, whom even best friend Harold says he has no chance with. But Victor is persistent, although his efforts at first are as vulgar and graceless as the boys pestering Judy every day. She thinks she can use Victor to keep the other boys at bay, but he is determined to win her heart and puts all of his energy into wooing her.

Director Peter Sollett has created a vivid portrait of New York’s poorer streets, sweltering in the summer heat, and this film is full of strong performances from a cast that apparently had little if any experience prior to shooting. At times, the indication that many of the cast were extremely familiar with their surroundings gives the film an almost documentary feel. The stand out acting for me was undoubtedly Victor’s grandmother, who was just wonderful and funny whenever she was on screen, but it is hard to fault any of the actors. Throughout, ‘Raising Victor Vargas’ offers an insightful and unsentimental examination of young love and family relationships. This is by far as it is possible to get from a Hollywood teen movie. And it even has a great soundtrack!

‘Raising Victor Vargas’ is one of those limited-release films that deserves to be given a wider airing. See it whilst you can.


UNDERWORLD
Monday 22 September 2003
Odeon Camden, London NW1 VISIT

Leaving a week before writing this review (OK, not exactly planned, but bear with me) has provided the kind of perspective necessary to ignore the fact that Kate Beckinsale looks fabulous in a skin tight rubber catsuit.

Thinking back, it’s hard to explain exactly what Underworld is intended to achieve, other than the starting point for yet another franchise. The central premise is that there has been a secret war between Vampires and ‘Lycans’ (Werewolves) for centuries and the former are winning. The Lycans are searching for someone whose ancestor had mixed blood, with all the strengths of both species – basically a spin on the plot of Blade and, um, Blade 2. Which brings us to Michael, a human whom Beckinsale’s character Selene ends up falling for but who is bitten and transformed into a wolf. There are innumerable battles in and below the streets of what looks like Prague and Kate gets to show off some moves lifted from The Matrix and, um, Blade 2. And she also has to contend with a vampire father figure who turns out not to be quite as honourable as she first thought. Not unlike, um, Blade 2.

None of which amounts to very much at all. At times the film looks fabulous but at times it has all the quality staging of a 1980s Spandau Ballet video, all purple frock coats and frippery. It’s also worth remembering that there is something slightly camp about vampires, which only Wesley Snipes in the Blade films, through the force of sheer physicality, has managed to overcome. Bill Nighy on the other hand, who was the wonderful newspaper editor in the recent TV drama ‘State of Play’, plays an ancient vampire whose lines drew nothing but mirth from the audience I was with. And whilst Kate Beckinsale mostly hid behind her fringe and looked gorgeous without making any terrible mistakes, the acting of whoever was playing the ‘bad’ vampire Kraven was nothing short of dire.

As a distraction on a rainy evening, ‘Underworld’ was not that bad. But without a great deal more toughness and a better story, one that at least acknowledges the conventions of the vampire flick, it is hard to see this leading to a lasting franchise.

Which is another bold prediction that will probably turn out to be wrong…

Wednesday, September 17, 2003


SPIRITED AWAY
Sunday 14 September 2003
Odeon Camden Town, London NW1 VISIT

How to describe ‘Spirited Away’, the amazing animation that won an Oscar earlier this year? A Japanese Alice in Wonderland mixed with Wizard of Oz? Although the similarities are there, this doesn’t quite sum up the experience. Whilst this film, loaded as it is with complex imagery, perhaps makes more sense to a Japanese audience, the nervy edge of weirdness that flows through this film is exhilarating. It’s a story composed by a quite extraordinary imagination.

The film tells the story of ten year old Chihiro, who along with her parents gets lost on the way to their new house and ends up in what appears to be an abandoned theme park. They have stumbled, however, into another realm, a land of gods and spirits, so when Chihiro’s mother and father eat enchanted and forbidden food, they are transformed into pigs. Terrified and alone as twilight arrives and the spirits that inhabit the park come out of hiding, Chihiro seeks refuge in the bathhouse where she is befriended by Haku. He tells her that that the witch Yubaba, the mistress of the bathhouse, is obliged by the rules to allow Chihiro to live as long as she is prepared to work. To survive and hope to restore her parents to human form, she must become one of Yubaba’s employees.

What follows is almost impossible to summarise, especially without a more detailed understanding of Japanese mythology. Some things – such as the River God who is so choked with pollution that it is mistaken for a Stink God – is eminently transparent, as is the character of No Face, the spirit that consumes the desires of others but remains desperately lonely and confused. A friend has said that the central theme is simple, about different and competing feelings of love and loyalty, which is also undoubtedly true. However, Chihiro is also hurt by the brusque way her parents dismiss her feelings of loneliness caused by moving away from what she knows. At the beginning of the film, she forlornly clutches a dying bunch of flowers given as a farewell gift by her old friends, and says, "my first bouquet - and it's spoiled." Her encounters with spirits and monsters transform her into a stronger, less despairing and more understanding individual (in a way that is less apparent in Alice or Dorothy in Wizard of Oz).

All of which is less important to a review of the film than the dazzling visual quality of the animation. There are so many moments but when Chihiro runs through the flower garden or the scenes of Yubaba's palace with sunrise through the mist the railway tracks covered in water are just astonishing.

This is a wonderful film. An absolute must-see at any costs.

Monday, September 15, 2003



BELLEVILE RENDEZ-VOUS
Saturday 13 September 2003
UGC West India Quay, London E14 VISIT

Now this is just great. The French animated film ‘Belleville Rendezvous’ is about as far from a Disney cartoon as it is possible to be, with both the characters and the imaginary city of Belleville (itself a caricature of New York, complete with an obese Statue of Liberty) illustrated as grotesques, out of proportion but hugely fun.

It is also the very funny, slightly weird and engrossing tale of Champion, encouraged by his grandmother to become a cyclist, who is kidnapped in the middle of the Tour de France in the 1960s and taken via Marseilles across the Atlantic to Belleville. Granny and Champion’s faithful dog are in hot pursuit (braving the storms in a hired pedalo) and on arrival, they hook up with three sisters, former singing stars of the 1920s, who live on frogs caught be tossing hand grenades into the local swamp. To rescue Champion, they must face the sinister Mafia henchmen of the Godfather, (whose hideout for some reason is in the French House of Wine) by infiltrating their lair. OK, so I said it was a little strange…

But it is also wonderful to watch. Much of the animation is stunning and the final chase through the streets of Belleville is hilarious. This is a very French, very eccentric but extremely enjoyable film that if anything seemed to be over too quickly. And the music is infectious too (I bet after you see this you’ll be humming the tune from the opening scenes for days)

Definitely see this film. It may have almost no dialogue but the many brilliant sight gags make it one of the funniest films I have seen all year.



RESPIRO
Saturday 6 September 2003
Odeon Wardour Street, London W1 VISIT

I have been thinking about seeing this film for some time, in part because of the positive reviews but also because this is the first I have heard of Valeria Golino since she appeared as in, um, Hot Shots Part Deux (a much misunderstood classic in many people’s books!)

The film tells the story of Grazia, a Sicilian fisherman’s wife who appears to display all the symptoms of manic depression, her moods swinging from light to shade. The neighbours think she is a little odd and her family want to send her off to Milan for treatment, but she refuses to go. Then, when her husband decides to get rid of her dog and her response is to throw open the doors to the local pound, leading to panic in the village, it seems that the inevitable can no longer be resisted. But Grazia’s eldest son Pasquale decides to hide her in a secret cave on the cliff tops, as the villagers and her distraught husband search for Grazia, believing her to have drowned.

All this is told against the backdrop of the arid, starkly beautiful Sicilian landscape and is interwoven with the daily lives in particular of the children, the boys in particular living an almost feral existence, fighting in gangs but also demanding control over their sisters. Once Grazia goes into hiding, however, the attempt to impose a mystical element to the story, with the fisherman’s wife suddenly perceived as some sort of saint, is confusing and doesn’t really work, whilst the finale seems equally contrived. And whilst the intense sunlight of southern Italy helps give the setting its bleached, harsh quality, it also at times makes the (white) subtitles impossible to read, which is frustrating and left me feeling that perhaps I was confused because I had missed something important.

Over all, an interesting but essentially flawed film.

Tuesday, September 02, 2003



SWIMMING POOL
Monday 1 September 2003
UGC West India Quay, London E14 VISIT

‘Swimming Pool’ tries very hard to pretend it’s an insightful, serious psychological drama but in truth, its comes across as an episode of ‘Midsomer Murders’ with a large helping of Gallic nudity.

Charlotte Rampling plays Sarah Morton, a successful English crime writer who has become so jaded by her work that she accepts the offer made by her editor (Charles Dance) to use his villa in southern France to write something new. She is a bitter, lonely and frankly annoying woman who becomes even more irritating when her editor's daughter Julie (the luminous Ludivine Sagnier) arrives as an unexpected guest. Julie promptly destroys the tranquillity that Sarah craves by playing loud (not very good) French house music, by wandering around naked and having noisy sex with a string of repulsive older men.

So far, so straightforward: a story about the cultural and generational gap between a snobbish, uptight, middle-aged English woman and a vulgar, insouciant, wayward French girl. But then the story suddenly involves a murder and it all goes somewhat pear-shaped. The ending is also daft too, hinting unconvincingly that everything that proceeded it may be nothing more than the plot of Sarah's new book. By that stage, I had stopped caring.

If you want to pay good money to see Ludivine Sagnier lounging topless by a pool, this is the film for you, you WILL go blind one day and you should probably get out more. Otherwise, the fact that this is terribly French is no guarantee that it will be either clever or great – with its frustrating ending, ‘Swimming Pool’ offers the proof that French films can be a let down too.



CYPHER
Sunday 31 August 2003
Greenwich Filmworks, London SE11 VISIT

Now this is more like it. Director Vincenzo Natali’s new film ‘Cypher’ may have had only a fraction of the money and none of the hype of the summer ‘blockbusters’ but is leagues ahead of them all.

The completely absorbing plot has Jeremy Northam, an English actor who usually plays villains (and has been the best thing about other people’s bad films, like Sandra Bullock’s lamentable The Net) as a seemingly timid accountant who is recruited by software corporation Digicorp as a spy. Adopting a new, more interesting personality, he is sent to marketing conferences around the US and told to record the interminably boring speeches he hears. All is not what it seems, however, and after meeting the mysterious Rita Foster (Lucy Liu), he discovers that he and the other delegates are all employed by Digicorp and being brainwashed to spy on rival company Sunways. And that’s all I can say without giving too much away!

Although ‘Cypher’ is set in the future, the look of the film is pure 1950s suburbia, Both Northan and Liu are excellent and it is fun to spot the references to other films in the clever plot. The brainwashing headsets look like something out of Clockwork Orange and I was reminded repeatedly of the great film Brazil (there is even a conference speaker called Tuttle, the name of Brazil’s mysterious hero, but possibly I’m reading too much into this!) And the moment when Northam’s character is dropped off by a cab in the middle of nowhere is pure North By NorthWest. Whilst there’s not the cash for expensive special effects, where they are used, they don’t look shabby or out of place. There is a great twist at the end that I didn’t guess in advance and straight away, I wanted to see it all again. There’s no better recommendation that that for any film.

This will probably be on a very limited release so see this film whilst you can. It’s one of the best of the summer.

Monday, September 01, 2003



LARA CROFT: TOMB RAIDER 2: THE CRADLE OF LIFE
Monday 25 August 2003
Stratford Picture House, London E15 VISIT

I’m not entirely clear why this film has more titles than a minor member of the aristocracy, the sort of posh Sloane who might catch the eye of one of the Windsor princes. Perhaps it’s because this is exactly the Sloane mould that ‘Lady’ Lara Croft has been cast from, albeit a bad tempered one who apparently is also a cross between Indiana Jones and James Bond, rushing around the world after ancient artefacts whilst saving the world from megalomaniacs. Like you do when shopping at Harvey Nicks or riding your pony through the grounds of the estate gets just too dull.

Anyway, rather like the aristocracy, Lara Croft’s first appearance failed to stand up to even the mildest scrutiny and the original Tomb Raider was one of the worst big-budget films of recent memory. So it is hardly surprising that this sequel is better. Improvements in special effects and computer graphics help, of course, and the new Tomb Raider seems consciously to have taken the lead of the Brosnan Bond films. There are thus some impressive stunts, lots of foreign travel (Greece, China, Africa) and our Lara even has a catchphrase now: “some things are not meant to be found.” Including, it has to be said, a proper storyline, sparkling dialogue or any sense of drama. This is the biggest problem with the Tomb raider franchise – no matter how much money is spent and how many exotic locations scouted, it’s just as lifeless as the game on which it’s based. It’s almost as though the director, having given the film three titles, had to throw in three continents in the hope of distracting the audience. But it is still impossible to give a damn about Lara, her ‘adventures’ or to care about the apparent lack of chemistry between her and her Scottish mercenary old flame. You’re more likely to get emotionally involved watching an episode of ‘Xena Warrior Princess.’

It is hard to believe that Angelina Jolie, an Oscar winning actress, needs to keep putting herself through this. If she has any sense, she will start considering better scripts and Tomb Raider 3 (probably with even more titles) will never see the light of day.

And if that happens, it’s hard to believe that anyone would care.