Film Reviews by Alphaville

This horrible film has four men murder a woman after a failed rape and chase her friend up a mountain rock face. There’s nothing wrong with having baddies chasing a heroine, but these men are despicable and we have to spend most of the film listening to them as the contrived plot leaves our heroine on her own with no dialogue. Sample dialogue: ‘I’m coming for you, bitch.’

To cut down costs, the bulk of the film takes place at night on a set representing the ledge of the title, so there’s no more than a few brief climbing scenes and scenic shots. The misogynists are on the ledge and the woman is trapped beneath them below an overhang. It’s static, it's ridiculous and it's awful.

For a film that features state-of-the-art cgi dinosaurs, this sequel is incredibly bland. Far too much time is spent re-introducing a surplus of characters from previous films in the franchise, all of whom are forced to exchange such excruciating banter that the actors can do little with it but phone it in. You have to wait nearly an hour before a bog-standard dino-on-the-loose chase is rolled out and it’s nothing you haven’t seen before. Naturally Chris Pratt rides a motor bike and only extras get killed. Tick. Then it’s another hour before the last bog-standard confrontation. This franchise ran out of ideas about what to do with cgi long ago.

Even if you don’t already know the story from the celebrated 1956 film The Man Who Never Was, the trailer will tell you anyway. That leaves a film that has little to do but go through the motions, retelling the story with barely a surprise along the way. You can predict every beat as the stiff-upper-lipped Brits devise their elaborate plan (yes, Colin Firth is present and correct). It’s padded out with titbits to give the main characters some backstory, but that merely bogs the drama down even more. All of this turns an extraordinary real-life wartime episode into a peculiarly unmoving viewing experience. Even worse, there’s a pointless voiceover and a laughable climactic clapping scene, presumably for the benefit of transatlantic viewers.

A man with heart disease watches people in the street from the balcony of his apartment and we follow their lives. Unfortunately their lives turn out to be not very interesting and the various unconnected plots, if they can be called that, go nowhere. It’s a quintessentially French film, but there’s not a lot going on here behind the city centre cafes and boulangeries. You wait for it to get going but it never does and what remains on screen is less than riveting. The unoriginal theme is ‘seize the day’, so why not do that by watching a wonderful Parisian film that celebrates life and love in a way this film never manages: ‘Paris, 13th Arrondissement’.

Disjointed plot, mad laughing killer, pedestrian police investigation, lead cop with a troubled home life, risible climax… all add up to a right old mess. There may be a good serial killer thriller lurking in here somewhere, but it never sees the light of day. Not the best work of normally reliable director Danny Pang (The Eye, Bangkok Dangerous).

The problem with most disaster movies is you know what’s coming but still have to sit through screeds of character development to reach the action. Here, however, the build-up is believable and engaging, more of a detective story.

It’s a kinda-sequel to The Wave (also excellent), with the action shifting from Norway’s fjord country to Oslo. Our hero geologist, now a broken man estranged from the family he saved from the wave, now has to save them again as he begins to find evidence of what’s coming next. His efforts in a city of collapsing buildings really ramps up the tension in some terrific scenes of peril.

Documentary-style actor’s film about Jackie Kennedy, focussing on Natalie Portman’s portrayal of her. If true-to-life it’s educational, but judged purely as a film there’s nothing here to tempt an audience disinterested in the subject matter. The West Wing TV series had more life.

A ‘slow burn’ trumpets the trailer. Yep, you know what that means. A slow, bleak, actorly film about mental illness that ends in mass murder. However well-meant, is this really what you want from a viewing experience? Do check out the trailer first. That should be enough to put you off.

Sunday-evening-TV-like rural Irish drama. ‘Beautifully understated’ trumpets the blurb. Translation: slow-paced and staidly directed with static shots held far too long. Our young quiet girl of the title is sent from a dysfunctional family to stay with more likable relatives on a dairy farm, where (guess what?) she likes it more. Nothing much happens, even at the cop-out ending, to a soundtrack of (guess what?) plinky-plonk piano muzak. There’s even a montage set to an embarrassing Irish ditty. You’ll know exactly where it’s going with not a single surprise along the way.

Minimalist drama can work in films, but not at this deathly pace. The whole shebang is saved from dross only by the luminous presence of Catherine Clinch as the girl. Little acting is required of her in this, her first film, but her screen presence augurs well for her future career. Take her out of it and there’s not a lot else to see here.

Even a jazzed-up soundtrack can’t disguise the fact that you’d run a mile to avoid the five vacuous post-university friends who meet up in a country house to celebrate a birthday. They swap inane and unfunny dialogue to the point of irritation. As in most such theatrical films, better suited to the stage, the camera is merely plonked down in front of the person speaking, so there’s no visual interest either. At the end the mood changes, but who cares? It’s because of critics who don’t know a turkey when they see one that the British film industry keeps making such stagey TV fillers.

Although it’s hard to believe, this colourful and rambunctious tale of a Lesbian nun who becomes an abbess is based on evidence from a real 17th century court case. In the hands of director Paul Verhoeven (Total Recall, Basic Instinct etc.) it’s a riot. There are moments when you may not be able to take your eyes away from the screen even if you want to.

It’s set in a convent where suffering is seen as the only way to salvation. And boy, do these Brides of Christ suffer. Benedetta has increasingly lurid and erotic dreams about Jesus while becoming involved in a Lesbian relationship with a fellow nun. Even the wooden Virgin Mary dildo they use is based on fact. And that’s just the start if it. Beginning as fun, the film dials up the excitement level, goes to some dark places and builds to provide an unexpectedly emotional punch.

Good to see one of cinema’s enfants terrible still on such good form and still causing trouble. The film has naturally been attacked in some quarters, but it’s good to see someone not afraid to make subversive art that refuses to tow the line. Rock on, Paul.

The DVD also has an enlightening interview with Verhoeven, including extracts from his previous films.

A low-key short story turned into a low-key overlong film filled to overflowing with filler scenes. It has won awards! The DVD blurb describes its director as ‘masterful’! Have film critics lost their senses?

The slow, solemn, deliberate, nearly-3hr film begins with an unnecessary 40min domestic preamble, at the end of which the main character’s wife dies. No spoiler – the trailer covers this in a few seconds. Cut to credits... after FORTY pointless minutes that a better film would have quickly covered as backstory. Then we have another 2hrs to sit through as our man (a stage director) comes to terms with his loss while we’re subjected to endless scenes of him rehearsing Chekhov’s ‘Uncle Vanya’.

The camerawork is unremarkable and the film is so unforgivably tedious and disdainful of its audience that it deserves all the brickbats it gets.

A promising opening has Frank Grillo reliving the same day Groundhog Day-style, fighting a motley crew of baddies who always kill him. But then we’re subjected to stolid scenes of dialogue to fill out the 90min run-time. Grizzled baddie Mel Gibson is especially wearing as he delivers never-ending speeches in a monotonic drone.

The plot picks up pace again as our hero seeks to extricate himself from his daily destiny. The action is played with a humorous slant that drains it of drama, but there are enough moments to make the film a worthwhile time-passer.

I wish this was a better film to introduce modern audiences to Godard and Truffaut. For those of us who rate their best films among the best of all time (eg Godard’s Alphaville, Truffaut’s Jules et Jim), it’s a fascinating and nostalgic wallow. If you’re new to the French New Wave of the 1960s, you’ll be seriously underwhelmed.

The narrative jumps around all over the place. Writer/director/narrator Emmanuel Laurent delivers his lines in a flat monotone. Even worse, there are endless pointless modern-day scenes of a woman reading old newspapers and magazines to accompany the voiceover. This is actress Isild de Besco, apparently intended to be a bridge for the audience between then and now, but the device fails completely.

Worst of all, the sense of excitement generated by New Wave movies is conspicuous by its absence. As a 1960s student who was blown away by their immediacy, daring and sheer cinematic joy, this documentary both enthralled and angered me.

If Guy Ritchie geezer-gangster films leave you cold you’ll be tempted to give this one a body swerve, but it turns out to be a gritty LA-set heist thriller that has its moments. A bigger-budget remake of a better French film (Le Convoyeur – the Cash Truck), it has Limey Jason Statham infiltrating an armoured-vehicle security firm in search of vengeance.

Apart from the embarrassing title, two things let it down. (1) A long central flashback explains his motivation but becomes bogged down and confusing, with added unnecessary FBI agents. (2) Statham gives a deliberately even more impassive performance than usual (yes, really), making it hard to get inside his character.

Still, the plot does its job of linking the gung-ho action set-pieces and it’s these that make the film worth a look if you’re partial to a spot of gunplay. The prolonged climactic battle, full of minor characters we’ve either come to care about or hate, is perhaps the best Ritchie has directed.