REVIEW: The Grand Budapest Hotel

How do you talk about a Wes Anderson film without constantly referring to it as a "Wes Anderson film"? Short answer: you can't. Most directors - not always good directors, but most directors nevertheless - will have some kind of visual or thematic flourish which acts as a directorial signature on the work. Anderson has about fifty. His work is so recognisable, so separate from the majority of modern cinematic releases, that in any significant analysis of his films it is impossible to divorce the man from his fiction, and this is no less true in his latest offering.

The Grand Budapest Hotel is both a farce and a reflective depiction of wartime Europe in the 1930s. It tells the story of Gustave H (Ralph Fiennes), a world-famous concierge at the eponymous European hotel, who takes young lobby boy Zero Moustafa (Tony Revolori) under his wing. A whimsical plot unfolds, revolving around the theft of a priceless painting from his old lover (Tilda Swinton) whose murder Gustave is framed for. It's entertaining, considered, and shouldn't be dismissed as "just another Wes Anderson film", although all of the major hallmarks are present; as always, Anderson's shots and compositions are perfect, even obsessive, and the use of warm, vibrant colour here is better than ever. But what struck me most about this film was the deeply nostalgic tone, more so than any other Anderson has made. He uses the 4:3 ratio throughout most of the film, and The Grand Budapest Hotel reminded me of older, classic films of the 20s and 30s - films most of today's audiences would be unaware of - through a wonderful evocation of its period. There's a charming (and deliberate) use of miniatures for some of the exterior shots of the hotel with the cable cars leading up to it, and my favourite scene in the film came towards the end, when the two protagonists chase the villain down a ski slope - the tiny figurines in place of characters during wide shots is an old-school trick, one which reminds you that you're watching a film, but it's made with such charm and verve that you can't help but be swept along by it.

Regarding the tone, the film does a wonderful thing where it manages to be light and fun without being breezy. In the mix of absurd situations and larger-than-life characters there's an undercurrent of sincerity, probably best represented by an excellent performance from Ralph Fiennes. Excluding some scene-stealing support from Harvey Keitel and Jeff Goldblum, Fiennes completely owns this film; like Bill Murray in The Life Aquatic and Gene Hackman in The Royal Tenenbaums, he unites the ensemble under his enigmatic Gustave H. Effortlessly filling the role, at once charming, crude, promiscuous yet lovable ("She was dynamite in the sack, by the way", referring to an 84-year-old woman), the film instantly confirms Fiennes' status as a brilliant comedic actor, his timing perhaps even better here than his expletive-filled performance from In Bruges. He also manages to bring an unexpected amount of dramatic gravitas to the role, balancing the one-liners with the development of an affecting paternal bond with Revolori's Zero. It is this which makes the comedy all the richer, since throughout the film we are reminded of the more serious historical reality of the time (one scene shot in black and white might just be one of the saddest scenes in Anderson's career).

Perhaps the only time the film loses its footing is when it features moments of darker, nastier humour. A shot of a cat's splattered carcass drew more winces than laughter from the audience, as did a prolonged shot of a severed head being extracted from a box - more Se7en than Steve Zissou. Still, this is a minor quibble in an otherwise consistently excellent film, which I would urge you to go and see if only to serve as a whimsical antidote to the typically serious and desaturated world of the mainstream blockbuster. However, a small warning: you will sincerely crave cake afterwards.

★★★★

FEATURE: Best Picture Rundown

Here are some of my thoughts on the recently announced Academy Award nominees for Best Picture:

American Hustle

Along with The Wolf Of Wall Street and maybe Her, this is one of the most enjoyable films nominated for Best Picture. Set during the 1970s, the film goes beyond the awful period hairstyles to become something much smarter and self-aware (the first scene involves Christian Bale's character glueing on his wig). The playful plot is good, but the real draw here is the performances. Bale is good, Bradley Cooper even better, but the film belongs to the women; Amy Adams shines as she reigns superior over the two male leads, and Jennifer Lawrence steals every scene she's in as Bale's disastrously insensitive wife. However, I felt the film dragged to much at times - the screwball nature of the heist demands a quicker pace, although I appreciated the extended focus on character. Perhaps undeserving of its 10 nominations, and unlikely to win Best Picture, this is nevertheless a solid and recommendable film, if not quite a masterpiece.

Captain Phillips

Out of all the people to dramatise the story of the 2009 hijacking of the Maersk Alabama by Somali pirates, Paul Greengrass was probably the best man for the job. Much like United 93, Captain Phillips is a documentary-like approach to a true story, which goes to great efforts not to distort facts for the purpose of creating Hollywood heroes and villains. The preparation of Phillips (Tom Hanks) and his crew is contrasted with the recruitment of the Somalian pirates - similarities between both sets of men can be found which neither would be willing to admit. Yet the undertones of globalisation are simply one layer of a complex, intelligent story, in what I would consider one of the best films in Greengrass' career. It's a shame the director hasn't received a nod, and even more appalling is the omission of Tom Hanks in the Best Actor nominations - without spoiling anything, his performance in the final 10 minutes of the film is some of the finest acting I've seen all year. Although it was nice to see the excellent Barkhad Abdi nominated for his role as the pirate chief.

Gravity

Gravity is the best film I saw in 2013. It's become a cliché to say such a thing by this point, but it doesn't make it any less true. The film was impressive not only for its technical accomplishments - and these cannot be understated, the special effects on display here are simultaneously awe-inspiring and terrifying, with the best use of 3D to date - but also for weaving in an exciting and strangely moving story about human survival. This is in part due to a career-best performance from Sandra Bullock, who pleasantly surprised me in her ability to completely carry a film by herself (it's hardly a spoiler to say that George Clooney doesn't stick around for long). She excels as the graceful humanity of the piece, the anchor the audience desperately needs to make sense of Alfonso Cuaron's uncompromising vision - the two talents complement one another perfectly. Without her I would not have been moved to tears by the end, although this can be attributed to sheer emotional exhaustion (never has a cup of tea been more welcome). It's certainly the film which deserves to win Best Picture, but, without wanting to sound too cynical, this seems unlikely - much like The Social Network and Avatar which came before it, the award will probably go to a more traditional Oscar-worthy film like 12 Years A Slave. Of course, one can always hope.

The Wolf of Wall Street

Martin Scorsese continues the loosely-connected series of films he began in 1990 with Goodfellas and continued in 1995 with Casino with The Wolf of Wall Street, the adaptation of controversial Wall Street broker Jordan Belfort's autobiography of the same name. All three films essentially follow the same story structure; a naive young man gets drawn into a criminal life of wealth and luxury, often represented by the consumption of drugs and incitement of violence, before everything comes crashing down, and he has to reluctantly give up everything and turn his friends over to the law. Yet while you could accuse Scorsese of sticking to familiar territory, I don't think we've ever seen this story told with such confidence and glorious bad taste. I went in to this film with an open mind and was still floored by the places this Hollywood picture dared to go - within the first ten minutes or so we've seen Belfort receiving oral sex in his Ferrari and blowing cocaine into a prostitute's anus, and during a sequence where Belfort gets high on pills (called "Quaaludes") he describes how his body has entered the "cerebral palsy stage". It's easily the most riotously funny film of Scorsese's career, complete with solid performances from Leonardo DiCaprio and, perhaps more surprisingly, Jonah Hill as his partner-in-crime. It's received some accusations of glorifying Belfort's real-life crimes, most notably from the daughter of a Stratton Oakmont employee who accused the film of making celebrities out of fundamentally bad people, but I don't think this is fair. DiCaprio's character receives little reprehension for his crimes because that's what really happened - the Wall Street brokers did get away with it, leaving destruction in their wake, and I saw the film as a fierce indictment of that kind of lifestyle. However, I did feel that the film was too long (at a very indulgent 179 minutes), and that the last forty minutes or so required some tightening up. And while this didn't particularly bother me, some people have a problem with the film's choice of style over substance - we never quite get under the skin of these characters like we did in Scorsese's previous efforts. It's still a very good film, one which likely won't win a single Oscar for being "too edgy" but makes a splash nevertheless.

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.

★★★★★

REVIEW: Argo

Argo is Ben Affleck's third directorial effort, and further proves his reputation as one of Hollywood's greatest assets. His films are consistently and refreshingly mature (particularly the astonishing Gone Baby Gone) and this  is no exception. While they have previous focused mostly on blue-collar crime in Boston (Affleck's home turf), Argo is a political thriller of sorts, based on the true story of the joint CIA-Canadian operation to extract six diplomatic fugitives out of an increasingly unstable revolutionary Iran.

The year is 1980, and Iran's political situation is beautifully illustrated with an animated opening sequence. The movie then launches into a dramatization of the storming of the U.S. embassy in Tehran on November 4, 1979. It's a grippingly tense scene, as we see the diplomatic figures within the embassy awaiting the inevitable attack from the angry mob outside. Affleck's attention to detail is scrupulous, and a sequence during the credits compares the similarities between photographs of the event and frames of the movie (with startling alikeness). The fact that the movie remains fact-based throughout instead of resorting to inventing drama from the proceedings is a testament to Affleck's ability to tell a story, as well as retaining the audience's engagement (despite their knowledge of the outcome).

And the film is very tense indeed. Six hostages escape the embassy and take refuge in the Canadian ambassador's house. From this, the U.S. – or rather the CIA – must now find a method to extract these valuable assets. Enter Ben Affleck as CIA specialist Tony Mendez. He proposes the idea of a fake scouting mission for a movie, assigning various roles of production to the hostages, to bring them home. An idea so crazy, it may just work.

Mendez meets with John Chambers (John Goodman), a Hollywood make-up artist, and producer Lester Siegel (the always fantastic Alan Arkin) to go about creating their fake movie – a Star Wars rip-off called 'Argo'. The film's first hour or so is a light-hearted parody of Hollywood in the 1980s, as the team try and make their movie appear convincing to investors and the press. But when Mendez arrives in Iran to carry out the plan, the film becomes much more tense and thrilling. Iran is justifiably painted as a very dangerous place to be, and their plan looks susceptible to falling apart at any moment; the complications that arise continue to raise the stakes as the film progresses, making its climax all the more exciting.

It should be said that the picture emphasises the role of the Americans in the proceedings - the role of the Canadians in the rescue efforts is unfairly minimised, as well as the role of the British and New Zealand embassies in harbouring the fugitives - although one suspects this was not due to political reasons nor historical misreading of the events, but rather to engage the American audience in the narrative and to engineer a protagonist the audience could support. It's disappointing, but not unexpected, and the aspect of diplomatic cooperation between governments remains intact.

Ultimately, Argo's strengths lie within its performances, with Affleck carrying the film with a strong, believable performance. Goodman and Arkin are both great in supporting roles, but special mention has to go to Bryan Cranston as Affleck's superior, who's presence is always greatly appreciated. Yet Argo's trump card is, without doubt, its director. Few possess the skill to turn a fact-based story without shootouts or car chases into a highly-strung, expertly crafted, Oscar-worthy thriller. I can hardly wait to see what Affleck does next.

★★★★