REVIEW: Only God Forgives

It's not that I dislike Ryan Gosling. I really don't. He gave an intelligent leading performance in The Ides of March, he had good emotional range in Blue Valentine, and he was perfect for the lead role in The Place Beyond the Pines.

And yet... I can't help but feel irritated after watching Only God Forgives, Nicolas Winding Refn's fourth English language film. It's second only to Valhalla Rising in terms of sheer unpredictability and experimentation from an already daring director, and I was interested how Refn and Gosling would work together following the monumental success of Drive. But after seeing this film, I'm not only disappointed by the flat script and characters, or the pretentiousness of the execution of Refn's interesting albeit underdeveloped ideas about masculinity and violence. I'm disappointed in Ryan Gosling, who is yet again playing the same character he's been playing for roughly six years.

You know the score. He's a young actor, famous for his smouldering good looks and puppy dog eyes, who seems intent on changing the image surrounding him as a suave lady killer by playing violent or damaged characters. Only problem is, he doesn't quite have the acting chops to pull it off. Sure, he can played the psychotic well enough. He has this curious ability to maintain an absolutely blank expression all the time, even when he's relentlessly stomping on a man's head in a lift. It worked in Drive because he was supposed to be this emotionally blank outcast, who only begins to develop feelings after meeting someone he truly cares for - all developed largely with longing looks, admittedly, but it was effective enough. However, in Only God Forgives, Gosling is given a much more demanding task - to condense his entire character into a single expression or look. And Ryan Gosling is not a man who can act with a single expression or look. As he stares intently at a prostitute he has taken for a lover, he could be thinking, 'I'm so alone', but he could equally be thinking 'I fancy some bread and cheese.' Or 'I hope she's not a ladyboy. What with this being Thailand and all.' Kristen Scott-Thomas at one point says 'I don't understand you.' Join the club, love. Only God can tell us what he's trying to say.

And then there's the violence. I understand the film was actually booed at the Cannes Film Festival for it's excessive screen violence. Admittedly, it can get a bit raucous in Cannes at times, but it's easy to understand why this film has garnered such controversy. A particularly rough scene climaxes on a close-up of a man having his eye removed with a knife. A supposed officer of the law splits a man open from neck to waist with a samurai sword, and the camera lingers on his bleeding carcass for what felt like ten minutes. Refn clearly has a fetish for violence - his previous films haven't exactly been family friendly - but he reaches new highs (or lows) with depraved, senseless acts shown in this film. Understand that I am not opposed to violence itself - a film's quality should also not be affected by the controversy it generates - but the director should have something to say with violence, even if it is only 'the audience wants to see this man punished' or 'this character needs to be shown to be strong and able to defend himself'. And the film does have some things to say with nastiness - a particularly brutal and well-choreographed fist fight is a high point - but more often than not it is a stylistic choice, the brutality a part of the environment itself. Atmospheric, yes, but art? No.

The film has two saving graces. One is the excellent soundtrack, with a strange yet effective infusion of oriental music and signature Refn electric synth vibes. The other is Kristen Scott-Thomas' terrifying portrayal of Gosling's evil mother, who thankfully saves the character from descending into a pantomime level Lady Macbeth, instead bringing an intimidating stage presence to the role. I would write wonders about the astonishing bright-neon look of the film, proving to be Refn's most visually resplendent picture yet, but he's been receiving similar praise for sixteen years, so I don't feel this nets him any additional favour.

I can't recommend this film. On the surface it appears to be a stylish, accomplished picture, filled with beautiful imagery yet with the atmosphere of a hallucinogenic nightmare, drawing the viewer in to the seedy criminal underworld of Bangkok. It's meditative, with pretentions to important, abstract ideas. Yet dig deeper, and you'll find almost nothing of substance.

★½

REVIEW: Now You See Me

Now You See Me joins the ranks of films such as The Illusionist and The Prestige as films about magic and deception, whose intentions are to deceive and manipulate the audience's expectations with a clever narrative. However, while The Illusionist and The Prestige are the proud destriers and palfreys in the stables of storytelling, Now You See Me is the lame rouncey, trying to keep up with the big boys but instead falling at the second hurdle, breaking both its legs and dying a miserable, drawn-out death. Alright, perhaps that's a little harsh, but (all Middle Ages horse references aside) while Now You See Me is a very stylish film, it lacks any of the depth which made previously mentioned films about magic so compelling.

The film starts promisingly enough by introducing four (seemingly) main characters into the mix - Jesse Eisenburg's fast-talking street magician, Dave Franco's cruise ship hustler, Isla Fisher's sexy stunt artist and Woody Harrelson as Woody Harrelson - who are all drawn together by a mysterious calling card. Yet before we've even learnt these characters' names, we're whisked away one year into the future, where the magicians (dubbed "The Four Horsemen") put on a flashy, CGI-filled show where they rob a bank. Due to the fact that this is generally frowned upon by conventional authority, the foursome is arrested, and in comes Mark Ruffalo's cliché cop who just doesn't have time for magic. "Great", we think. "This guy's going to be made fun of throughout the film for his blind arrogance and refusal to accept that the clever magicians are thinking ahead every now and then. I can't think of anyone more deserving."

And then you realise - horrifyingly, I might add - that Ruffalo is the protagonist of the film. Yes, that's right, you're supposed to be rooting for this guy to change his silly ways and open his mind to magic. To rub salt into the wound, Ruffalo is assigned a French Interpol agent - played by the usually rather good Melanie Laurent - as his partner. Again, that's correct - Ruffalo must now also learn to get along with this strange, foreign person too if he's to ever catch the culprits. Oh, Mark, why won't you listen to her telling you about some ridiculous secret magic cult called, of all things, The Eye? Why won't to recognise that some magician who drowned all those years ago is relevant? Why Mark, why?

Well, to be fair, he might listen if Laurent's character wasn't so dreadfully annoying. The writers of this film seem to have never met a French person before, so Laurent is forced to spout all manner of ridiculous dialogue. At one point, while arguing with Ruffalo she literally quotes a proverb about mountains. In French. Which she hastily translates to avoid American audiences falling asleep. And the "romantic" scenes are simply dire. "I guess this is it" mumbles Ruffalo as money flies around them. "Is it?" croons Laurent as they delicately kiss. My word, I can already hear the Oscars rolling in.

The problem I have with this film is that it all feels so fake. If these magic tricks are so plausible then why is CGI being used everywhere? How the hell did four simple tricksters manage to persuade rich, selfish businessman Michael Caine to fund them? Why is Morgan Freeman wearing a stupid hat? Another problem is the characters. I've already expressed my distaste for the aforementioned stupid buddy-cop duo, but the characters of the Four Horseman get on my nerves as well. Considering how prominently the ragtag group of magicians were featured in the advertising for this film, you would have thought that they'd at least have some personality traits attached to them. But no, Eisenburg is an arrogant dick people somehow find attractive and charming, Franco fails to persuade us he is anyone else but James Franco's brother, Fisher's most notable personality traits are her breasts and I'm not even sure they gave Woody Harrelson a script. Oh, and to top it all off, there's a final act twist so ridiculous I laughed aloud in the cinema (which earned me some distasteful looks to say the least).

It's by no means terrible - ignore the nagging voices in your head and you might have fun - but everything here has been done before and better, so go watch The Prestige again or something.

★★

REVIEW: This Is The End

Upon being announced, This Is The End seemed to be a very brave move by Seth Rogen and Evan Goldberg, Rogen's writing (and directing) partner in crime. With a plot summary as bold and basic as "celebrities are having a party at James Franco's house when the apocalypse starts happening", this could easily descend into what can only be referred to as "circlejerking" - making a film with friends so stuffed with in-jokes that the audience is left alienated and unamused. And, perhaps in lesser hands, this would have occurred.

However, Rogen and Goldberg have always been talented creative figures, with as many successes to their name - Pineapple Express, Superbad - as failures - The Green Hornet, The Watch. Thankfully, This Is The End belongs in the former camp, with perhaps their best project yet in terms of sheer enjoyability. By stripping away most pretences to fiction, and having every cast member play themselves, the film manages to be satirical of the Hollywood scene while remaining fun. Rogen and Goldberg have cleverly sent up practically everyone they know, emphasising existing characteristics - Rogen's excessive weed-taking, Franco's artistic integrity - and, in some cases, hilariously playing on public perception - Michael Cera's womanising coke-head is a highlight. The party scenes for the first 30 minutes or so are worth the price of admission alone.

But, oddly enough, the film does have a plot (of sorts) which relates to the title. Soon, strange events start happening, and a tense apocalyptic scene heavily thins out the star-studded cast. The remainder of the film is largely centred around Franco, Rogen, Jonah Hill, Jay Baruchel, Craig Robinson and Danny McBride's attempts to survive in Franco's house. I won't reveal what happens, only that it remains consistently funny throughout, only occasionally lapsing in momentum (typically during the CGI-heavy moments). This film won't convert those who dislike Rogen and Goldberg's writing style, but fans will experience pure, unadulterated comedy of the stupidest kind. And I wouldn't have it any other way.

★★★★

REVIEW: Looper

Is it odd that the thing I found most remarkable about the film Looper wasn't its intricate plot, innovative sci-fi setting or strong performances, but the strange look of Joseph Gordon-Levitt's face? Seriously, it looks like it's been moulded out of plasticine, like a sophisticated Doctor Who creature. Why they chose to do this I can't quite fathom, although I suspect it's to do with his relationship with Bruce Willis. No, not that kind of relationship.

Looper has the hallmarks of classic sci-fi written all over it, but somehow manages to appear fresh and exciting. The setting is a sleek cyberpunk future, where that old Star Trek writer's gem has recently been invented – time travel. The problem is, it's illegal, and only available on the black market, where strangely Jewish-looking gangsters send back people to be killed by "loopers" – hitmen of the past operating for mob bosses of the future. A little confusing, but handily explained by Joseph Gordon-Levitt in a practically fourth wall breaking voiceover. On a routine day of the job, Levitt is suddenly confronted by a future version of himself, played by none other than Bruce Willis. I guess that's what the prosthetic face was for, to make Joseph Gordon-Levitt appear like a younger Bruce Willis (although I'd rather see Willis looking like an older Levitt). The problem is, Levitt looks more like Homer Simpson than John McClane, with a practically shaded in beard stubble.

But that doesn't really detract from the overall quality of the film, which is one of the most innovative and exciting films I've seen all year. As Levitt goes after an escaped Willis – not killing your future self is considered a Bad Thing by scary mob boss Jeff Daniels – we see the film settle into its element, which is a redemption story of sorts. Levitt joins up with ranch worker Emily Blunt and her alternating cute/arsehole son, as they work out what Willis and Levitt's shady organisation is playing at.

The film is clever in manipulating the audience's sympathies. While Levitt is initially set up as a kind of anti-hero of the film, Willis comes along and shows him up to be the self-centred douchebag he really is. But Willis then goes on a mission that even Alex Delarge would find morally dubious, and it's left to Levitt to play the hitman-with-a-conscience role.

Overall this is probably one of my favourite films of 2012; high praise in a year with such greats as Margin Call, Skyfall, and (of course) The Cabin In The Woods. And don't be put off by the time travel element, since there's a conscious effort to not go into the wibbly-wobbly technicalities of it. Take note, Shane Carruth.

★★★★★