Reviews Archives - Page 4 of 9

February 11, 2016April 6, 2016

Music Review: The Libertines

Our music writer Amber Carnegie recently saw The Libertines, here’s what she thought of their gig…

After we caught The Libertines at the end of Reading Festival last year we were unsure of exactly how they were going to take on an arena. They may have sold out when they last played Nottingham but the arena still looked really sparse. The passion and eagerness of their fans made it clear that the faithful listeners weren’t just crammed at the front.

An arena tour usually comes with an organised act, special effects and rotating drum kits but The Libertines held their edge. There may have been glinting letters and screens but they kept all that to a minimal, even though there were scantily clad ushers handing out beers mid set. But for those paying attention the girls in the red guard jackets were a throw back to the band’s early gigging days.

Opening with ‘Barbarians’ from their latest ‘Anthems For Doomed Youth’ Nottingham saw this tight outfit finally back in sync, back as an identifiable unit, with all their raw rough around the edges sound that had a generation desperate for more. The Libertines are iconic for being one of the first indie bands to to create a scene around them, as they connected with fans through the internet, spreading their tales of Arcadia.

The Libertines can probably be counted as the inspiration for most indie bands we hear today and as they sped through a a set list of old and new tracks it was clear why they have become so influential. There were mic shares that brought back images of iconic scenes between Pete and Carl, but it was Gary Powell that stole the show. I couldn’t take our eyes off of him and the drum kit!

When I think of The Libertines we think of the last of the old school ‘rock stars’ with all the uproar that the media lapped up. With musicians now living lives online, I wonder how The Libertines would’ve rose to fame and how the band would’ve founded today. But as they closed their encore with ‘Don’t Look Back Into The Sun’ British icons filled the screens around the arena and there was no doubt that they had earned their place among them.

February 5, 2016

The Hateful Eight

Our resident film reviewer is writer Harry Casey-Woodward who will be sharing his opinions on things he has watched…

The Hateful Eight, 2016, cert 18, dir Quentin Tarantino, 4/5

The first thing you should know about Tarantino’s latest feature is that it is very different to his last offering, Django Unchained.
I have decided that the quality of Tarantino’s films follows a certain pattern: he does two good films, then a not so good film, then repeats. His first two movies, Reservoir Dogs and Pulp Fiction are considered cinematic classics. His third movie Jackie Brown is not quite as exciting. The two Kill Bill movies that came after are still very popular, while many people I’ve met loathe his sixth film Death Proof and it certainly showed at the box office. Inglorious Basterds and Django Unchained wowed nearly everyone.

So I was worried about Hateful Eight fitting the pattern and being a poor film. After seeing it, I feel it shares some of the negative aspects of Tarantino’s lesser efforts and lacks the energy and creativity of his best. However, it’s lack of action and location-hopping compared to Inglorious Basterds and Django doesn’t make it a bad film, just different.

I was excited enough about Tarantino making a period western with Django after repeating how much he’s inspired by them. I was even more excited when he said he was making another one. With both films, he has mastered what I believe are the two essential western plotlines. Django is obviously a journey western, where the hero goes on a quest through the ever-changing landscape of the Wild West and grows in some way. Then there are westerns centred in one location like a town, which tend to be tense action pieces.

Hateful Eight is an excellent example of this, for apart from a few outside scenes on a stagecoach the action nearly all takes place in one wood cabin. It’s more like watching an intense stage play than a movie. This made sense after reading an article on cinemablend where Tarantino declared he was thinking of writing for theatre.

I personally enjoy plots that are stripped down to the bare essentials, which is partly why I enjoy plays. Stories set in single locations are more intense and focused than plots that jump around locations, because you’re thoroughly engrossed in the characters and their dialogue.

Hateful Eight is no exception, as Tarantino never fails to hold your attention with his colourful cast of characters and their dialogue. Nevertheless, the film sometimes suffered from the same problem as Death Proof, which is that Tarantino over-indulged in his love for dialogue. In both films, the first halves are full of long scenes of characters chatting about topics not immediately related to the plot. Although the dialogue is entertaining, there were a few moments where I wondered if certain scenes were going anywhere and what was the point of them.

On the other hand, these scenes are certainly good for building up suspense and character and the audience’s long wait for action is rewarded when all hell breaks loose in the second half. There are Tarantino’s trademark scenes of outrageous violence, but there’s a darker, more macabre spirit wreaking havoc in this film than in previous. The violence of Hateful Eight is over-the-top and streaked with Tarantino’s viciously black humour. But there’s none of Django’s tounge-in-cheek or thrilling heroics, nor any sense that Tarantino is daring you to enjoy the violence. Like Reservoir Dogs, it’s played for brutal shocks.

Like Django, the film is also firmly rooted in the history and issues of the time. The film is set after the American civil war and the emancipation of slavery. These events cause some of the tensions and divisions between the characters, for they still feel very strongly about them. Racism rears its ugly head, with frequent use of the n word directed at Samuel L. Jackson’s character. Misogyny also joins the party, for the only female character gets the worst treatment. However, this is more for her personality than her gender and the offensive attitudes expressed by the characters are simply reflections of American history. The historical background adds to the film’s quality and, along with Tarantino’s mastery of drama and the camera, balances with the moments of explicit crassness on screen.

As with any good western, the scenery and music are quality too. The menacing original score (a first for the soundtrack-stealing Tarantino) is composed by Ennio Morricone, who also wrote the iconic music for such classic westerns as The Good, the Bad and the Ugly. When the action was happening outside of the stagecoach and the cabin, the snowy mountain scenery looks stunning too; especially in the extra-wide 70mm camera format Tarantino shot in that got him in such technical issues during cinematic release.

So don’t watch this expecting another Django, but do expect a master class in suspense, acting and cinema in general. Yes it’s slow and not packed with action, but Tarantino has really pushed himself and succeeded in making a unique film not just for his own filmography but westerns in general. Although there are good westerns regularly coming out, Tarantino has been the director to smash the most generic conventions. With Hateful Eight, he proves westerns don’t necessarily need showdowns at noon and characters riding off into the sunset.

All gushing for Tarantino aside, it is really the cast that keep you gripped. Samuel L. Jackson, Kurt Russell and Walton Goggins from Justified are all perfect, and Jennifer Jason Leigh’s deranged role can be added to Tarantino’s gallery of powerful female performances.
So as it’s winter, hop on the stagecoach and ride into Tarantino’s cramped, snowy, blood-drenched hell. You’re in for a treat.

February 1, 2016February 1, 2016

Documentaries: Making a Murderer

Alexandra Langston is a creative copywriter, editor, and part-time blogger, living and working in Qatar. In this post Alex talks about the Making a Murderer series…

Over Christmas, like a lot of people, I plummeted into the Netflix Making a Murderer vortex with wilful abandon. Living in the Middle East, I had heard a few grumbles about the series on the internet, but was otherwise unaware of details; in retrospect, blissfully unaware.
About a year ago, I delved similarly head-long into a series of documentaries about the West Memphis Three – three Arkansas teenage boys who in 1994 were found guilty of the murders of three younger boys. Two were sentenced to life in prison, whilst the perceived ringleader was sentenced to death.

The murder, trial, and media coverage were all clouded by the so-called ‘Satanic Panic’ that pervaded the US for much of the early 90s. Wearing black, listening to heavy metal, and being interested in belief systems beyond the typical Christianity of the Deep South, meant a guilty verdict was more or less guaranteed. If it wasn’t for film makers Joe Berlinger and Bruce Sinofsky capturing proceedings, that would have been that for the boys.

Fortunately, after the first film aired in 1996 interest in the case built, and over the next fifteen years the tireless support of the public (and some celebrities) led to new DNA evidence. In 2011 the possibility of a re-trial that would potentially embarrass the state led to an unusual plea deal; all three men were freed, but the state maintained their guilt.
I watched in absolute horror and astonishment, feeling elated at their release and total disgust at the injustice of the state’s lack of culpability. Overall though, I felt that this scenario had to be an anomaly, a one off. I was very wrong.

Enter Making a Murderer. In 1985, Steven Avery was wrongfully convicted of sexual assault in Manitowoc County, Wisconsin, and spent eighteen years in prison before being fully exonerated by new DNA evidence. Two years after his release, and on the eve of a multi-million dollar settlement from Manitowoc County, Avery was arrested and then tried and convicted of the murder of a young woman. His nephew, Brendan Dassey, was also sentenced to life in prison for his part in the killing.

The confluence of a looming settlement that would have financially crippled the county, and the investigation by officers and prosecutors that had also played a part of the original wrongful conviction, is at the centre of the ten hour series. The documentary raises questions about the trustworthiness of the investigation and its key players, but it has also seen a heavy backlash that claims a lack of impartiality from documentarians Laura Ricciardi and Moira Demos. The two women are also accused of leaving out important trial evidence in order to more convincingly paint the defendants as innocent.

What is clear is that for both men the investigations and trial were not entirely unbiased, and whichever side of the fence you come down on, the takeaway should be that we take a long hard look at our justice systems. In the twenty years since the West Memphis Three case came to prominence, how many more people have not received adequate defences due to a lack of money and resources?
Questionable journalism aside, it is important that these kinds of documentaries continue to be made – that we keep asking questions – because it is not just in the US that you can find yourself in an unwinnable situation.

January 23, 2016

Film Review: Slow West

Our resident film reviewer is writer Harry Casey-Woodward who will be sharing his opinions on things he has watched…

Slow West, 2015, cert 15, dir John Maclean, 4/5

If you liked Django Unchained, how about a western shot in New Zealand by a Scottish director? You’ve got to admire a director when they choose a western for their first film in this day and age, when westerns are no longer guaranteed profit makers (unless you’re Tarantino). It must be even more of a challenge to make a good one, now Django has raised the bar and Tarantino’s new western The Hateful Eight is in the saddle. But new director John Maclean has crafted a stunning western for his first feature, which is now out on DVD and Blu-ray.

Slow West has a simple but original plot. The hero is a young Scots lad named Jay Cavendish played by rising Australian star Kodi Smit-McPhee (The Road and Let Me In). Having left Scotland, we find him riding alone across the vast, wild landscape of the American West to find the girl he loves, who has already emigrated west with her father. He bumps into Silas (Michael Fassbender), a lone drifter who agrees to ride with Jay for reasons known only to Silas.

Both are testament to the theory that opposites attract. Silas is a traditional western hero. Even Fassbender acting in his native Irish accent just adds to his rough charm. He’s got the weather-beaten costume, the stubble, the cigars and the gun. The only thing he lacks is a heart. I was worried Fassbender wouldn’t pull off this Clint Eastwood -like character, since I’ve only seen him in well-spoken civilised roles like the android in Prometheus and the English officer/film critic in Inglorious Basterds. But he’s utterly gripping as a cool, cunning gunslinger.

Jay Cavendish, however, is the natural bumbling teenage sidekick. What he lacks in experience and practicality, he makes up for with naivety and romanticism. Whereas Silas has dulled his emotions, Jay remains the victim of his passions which have led him on his epic, dangerous quest to find his love. Kodi Scot-McPhee gives a charming performance as a lovesick, wide-eyed poet horrified by the violence and suffering he witnesses.

The pair encounter a range of western characters. They’re tracked by a shaggy-coated man named Payne and his motley band of outlaws, a cool performance by fellow Australian Ben Mendelsohn who played hot-headed businessman Daggett in The Dark Knight Rises. There’s also a Swedish couple turned desperate store robbers, a travelling writer documenting the extinction of Native American culture and a bounty hunter disguised as a priest carrying his rifle in a smart case (a possible homage to the eccentric antiheros of the spaghetti westerns).

Thankfully Slow West follows a trend that has been cropping up in recent westerns. This is acknowledging the fact that the American West was populated by emigrants from all over the world, thus not everybody spoke in a cowboy drawl (a fact often ignored by even the best westerns in the past). The director admitted that he wanted to make a film about the West from an emigrant’s point of view.

The film also features Native Americans. Some are depicted as deadly and otherworldly, others as very human. The main characters mention the decimation of the Native American civilisation, often cynically, as an irreversible tragedy. It has been a while since any recent western has acknowledged this dark side of American history in such a modern fashion. As well as accurate historical details, the film does a good job of representing genders too. When we finally see the love interest Rose Ross (Caren Pistorius)on screen, she’s a gutsy farm girl who ends up doing most of the shooting in the showdown at the end.

If this colourful cast of characters isn’t enough to attract you, the film is worth seeing for its sheer beauty. Most westerns can boast extraordinary landscapes and Slow West is no exception. Like Lord of the Rings, Slow West could be an advert for New Zealand. We switch from tender flashbacks on the Scottish coast to dramatic New Zealand scenery of forests, mountains and plains which makes a perfect Western backdrop. Whoever went location scouting did a good job. The best thing about filming in New Zealand, as the crew discovered, was the incredible light and colour the beautifully framed shots were blessed with. The colours are especially striking for a western, reminding me of technicolor 1950s classics like The Searchers. As Maclean explains, that was purely due to the quality of New Zealand natural light and he didn’t want to shoot another brown western anyway.

Despite the cool characters, the original plot and striking cinematography, there are two criticisms I would make of this film. One is that it lacked the ‘oomph’ present in other great westerns like The Wild Bunch], Unforgiven and even Django, which stops it ranking alongside these classics. In other words, as nice as the film was to watch I didn’t feel a great emotional impact at the end. The running time is only eighty minutes, which means you have less time to feel involved with the characters than a longer film. However, given the content of the plot I feel there were still opportunities for a greater emotional scope. Moving onto the other criticism, I felt the movie was putting more effort into being strange for the sake of it. The nature of the plot is rather episodic, which leads to several random scenes like Jay and Silas riding past three men playing music in the middle of a barren plain. Jay converses with them in French on the universality of love and death. While it’s nice to see such creative elements in a western, it does reduce the historical realism a tad.

But then Slow West is a different breed of western to the intense, action-packed examples I mentioned above. It’s sparse, lyrical style reminded me most of Jim Jarmusch’s 1995 western Dead Man starring Jonny Depp. Both films are beautifully shot, spiritual journeys through imaginative landscapes of the American West. Both feature traditional Western clichés mixed with modern sensibilities and both balance cynical humour with tragedy and graphic violence.

The presentation of the violence is worth noting in Slow West. Don’t expect the glorified, over-the-top action of Django. It is thrilling and even playful at times, especially during the climax during which Payne fires a bullet to make a weather vane spin round. However, there are other scenes when the pointless, catastrophic consequences of random violence are clearly plain, with little dialogue and visible emotion from the actors needed. Though I have mentioned the lack of emotional impact in this film, I still genuinely feared for the heroes’ survival in the final shootout.

Overall, the film is sparse but not cold. The more I think about it after viewing, the more I admire the creativity involved and the sheer amount of elements that were brought together. This is a cool, lean slice of cinema that looks amazing with subtle depths of emotion and heartache. I respect that such an unusual little gem was allowed to be made and I further respect the fact that it was a British production, having been presented by Film 4 and the British Film Institute. Perhaps this will lead to another wave of European westerns like the Italian spaghetti westerns in the 60s. Shepherd’s pie westerns anyone? More like haggis western, as the director is Scottish. Silliness aside, he has done a remarkable job for his first film and I hope his future efforts share in the poetic, imaginative spirit of his debut.

All opinions of the director are taken from the special features on the DVD

January 8, 2016

Film Review: San Andreas

Our guest blogger is hobbyist film and TV series reviewer and writer Harry Casey-Woodward. On th-ink.co.uk Harry will be writing a series of posts in which he will be sharing his opinions on things he has watched…

San Andreas, 2015, Cert 12, dir Brad Peyton

Why do big budget American filmmakers insist on making disaster movies and expect us to be entertained by them? Even worse, why do they ask us to take them seriously? If you wanted to make a movie about the power of the human spirit overcoming disaster, you could make a documentary about real tragedies like the recent earthquakes and tsunamis in Asia. However there has been a pattern of American disaster movies pitting everyday Americans against fictional natural calamities. The problem with these films is that they try everything they can to get sympathy for their everyday American characters. Nine times out of ten they fail through bad writing. San Andreas is no exception.

The only good point I can think of for this film is that it is based on some real geology, or geology I remember learning at school. The San Andreas fault line is a crack in the Earth’s crust which just happens to sit under the west coast of America. Regions that sit over divisions between the tectonic plates (like Japan, to give another example) have suffered horrendous earthquakes because the plates are constantly moving and rubbing each other, causing tremors. On the San Andreas line, the plates are moving apart and a small piece of the American West coast will eventually break off and become an island. This process is depicted in the film, just speeded up. Somebody clearly read about this theory and thought it would make a great movie.

The fact this film is loosely based on some geology doesn’t save it from being a ridiculous farce. For one thing, the hero is a rescue helicopter pilot played by ex-wrestler Dwayne ‘the Rock’ Johnson. Johnson has made a name for himself as a muscle-bound action hero for the 21st century, being cast in such suitable roles as Hercules and the Fast and Furious franchise. So when I’m watching a film with Dwayne Johnson I expect him to play an action hero. I do not expect emotional drama.

Johnson is playing a heroic pilot but he also happens to be a father going through a divorce. In the middle of his emotional turmoil earthquakes of mighty magnitude strike the San Andreas area, endangering his various family members who he attempts to round up and save. So he performs various action man stunts like pulling distracted drivers out of their wrecked cars and even knocking out a looter with his own gun. But there are also scenes where he has long intimate conversations with his wife about their family situation and a previous daughter who tragically drowned. The screenwriters have clearly gone to some lengths to build some family history for the main characters to get the audience interested. But it doesn’t quite work when the male character is a towering body builder and the female’s hair is always beautifully styled despite said woman surviving collapsing buildings and floods. In short, as hard as the actors tried their characters and their situation just weren’t believable.

While watching the film, I was getting confused about whether I should be paying attention to the good-looking everyday disaster survivors overcoming their marital strife or the spectacular, CGI scenes of tumbling sky scrapers and flooded streets. In fact, I always find it worrying when these disaster movies present earthquakes and tsunamis as excuses for epic set pieces to entertain audiences, when the devastation they cause in the real world is all too clear.

I felt the makers of San Andreas needed to decide whether they were making a tasteless exploitation of natural disasters or an intimate family drama. You can’t really do both. Worse still is to turn this mess into some form of American patriotism. The film begs sympathy for American citizens by placing them through grand suffering and destroying their famous landmarks, then emphasising how great they are with the few triumphant survivors. It felt a little like the filmmakers were creating their own 9/11. I’m not saying Americans don’t deserve sympathy for their tragedies, but I can’t help feeling that the amount of effort and money spent on San Andreas could have been used, as I said before, to raise awareness of real natural disasters or even to provide relief for the victims.

It is unclear what the intentions of the makers of San Andreas were, but they have made an action-packed slice of nonsense you can stick on in the background and vaguely pay attention to while you do more important things. You also get to see Kylie Minogue in a very minor role.