Rewatch: X-Men: First Class

My fellow Mutants! The real enemy is out there.

X-Men: First Class received a lot of cred from the online community upon its release last summer. Most saw it as a successful reinvigoration of a series that had lost its way with 2009’s X-Men Origins: Wolverine. My first impression was that it was good but not great. Another watch leaves me less enamoured with it, providing the sensation of being merely decent.

It starts of in a familiar fashion, recalling the beginning of Bryan Singer’s original with a frame-by-frame re-enactment of future Magneto Eric Lenshaw’s mutant capability. However this is part of the film’s problems: adhering to the original series, using previous films as a guide to fit into the X-Men canon but knocking over the furniture whenever it deviates from the established template.

Essentially the plot revolves around the politics of Fassebender’s Magneto and James Mcavoy’s Charles Xavier. Setting it in sixties America, it’s the clearest reference the series has made to their Malcom X/Martin Luther King dynamic. Kevin Bacon’s suave Sebastian Shaw is looking to start a new age of mutant dominance, starting a nuclear war that would pave the way for mutants to inherit the earth with the newly formed X-Men standing in his way.

Mixing real-life situations with fictional ones is initially an interesting choice made by screenwriter Jane Goldman and director Matthew Vaughn. They attempt to imbue the story with a Bondian feel and a ‘what if?’ narrative but the script bottles the latter especially in its defining set-piece. The sixties setting is just a dressing: an artifice that makes it visually dissimilar from modern comic-book adaptations but the difference is surface deep. The film alludes to moments in history but does not deviate from them enough to create any substantial dramatic tension. It’s a fun ride but it feels empty at the same time.

Other problems emerge from the amount of exposition the film barrels through to set up the story (the first ½ hour is Exposition City): gender politics that borrows from James Bond, dodgy looking visual effects (basically when anyone takes flight), too many characters to service, some risible dialogue and, to top it off, some bland acting. It’s an almost Herculean feat that it feels as cohesive as it does and is as entertaining as it is despite its many faults. Vaughn keeps it going at a decent clip in the realisation that if the film pauses you’ll see its glaring seams.

Sprinkled with some decent performances here and there and a few clever action scenes, X-Men: First Class is a film that’s safer than it looks. Many of the more interesting moments (Azazel’s infiltration, Magneto and Xavier’s conversation over chess) feel like they’ve been culled from other films in the series. It’s a case of ‘X-Men: The Greatest Hits’, not adding anything particularly new to the series in thematic or dramatic terms or even expanding the mythos as such. Bonus points for the cameos but this film could have been a bit more than a re-heated version of what we’ve seen before.

6/10

At Home: Arrietty

Human beings are dangerous. If we’re seen, we have to leave. My parents said so.

Arrietty is the latest film from Japanese animation house Studio Ghibli and brings with it the distinction of not being directed by Hayao Miyazaki. Instead it’s directed by Hiromasa Yoneybashi who does a splendid job of adapting Mary Norton’s children’s book The Borrowers.

Arrietty tells the story of borrowers, or “little people”; a family that dwells beneath a house and fend for themselves by borrowing objects that humans won’t notice. Their existence is threatened when a young boy called Shô spots Arrietty not once but twice and over the course of the film they develop a relationship that brings out their best and most altruistic characteristics.

What’s impressive about Arrietty is the emotion generated throughout. The emotional beats are well done, with Shô gaining the trust of Arrietty and Arrietty learning that not all humans should be feared. Shô is just as vulnerable as Arrietty due to a heart defect that requires an operation. The friendship between the two is touching, creating a sense of wonder and curiosity between them that you wouldn’t expect from an animated feature.

It’s all handled in a very serene manner with a sprinkling of humour in the form of Shô’s caretaker, who threatens the existence of the borrowers when she attempts to capture them.

The sense of scale that’s established is also impressive. Yoneybashi takes advantage of the size difference with the borrowers dwarfed by their surroundings creating a palpable sense of danger whenever they step out into unknown territory.

The ending is bittersweet but also happy and hopeful. While it’s not as good as the best Ghibli has to offer (a very high bar) it’s a charming tale filled with some beautiful animation. With most, if not all of the multiplexes filled with 3D CG cartoons, Arrietty is a welcome break from the norm.

Arrietty is out on DVD in the UK

7/10

In Cinemas: Chronicle

There’s something wrong with Andrew.

Showing no signs of abating, the found-footage trend continues to find new ways to stay alive whether it’s ludicrously taking it the concept to the moon (Apollo 18), or dressing it up in a familiar guise (The Devil Inside). Chronicle looks to apply the same documentary/YouTube stylings – this time to the superhero genre – but the concept of found-footage in this film seems a little bogus.

That’s not to say that Chronicle doesn’t try to stretch the found-footage concept but it struggles to retain a sense of believability in its latter half. Chronicle starts off with social outcast Andrew (Dane Dehaan) buying a camcorder to record his life. Bullied at school and at home by his father (Michael Kelly), his home life is compounded by his mother’s severe illness. In an attempt to try and bring him out of his shell, Matt, his cousin and only friend (Alex Russell), takes him to a warehouse party where they run into popular high school student Steve (Michael B Jordan). They find a cave in the woods, come across a weird crystal object; vibrations shudder the walls, the cave starts collapse – fade to black.

They wake up realising they have superpowers, abilities that allow them manipulate their surroundings with their mind. Like most superhero origin stories they find out that their powers can be used for good as well as bad.

There’s a lot to like about Chronicle. While not strictly a found footage film (who edited this footage together?), the docu-like nature and low key setting helps to differentiate it from its more exuberant cousins. It feels real or at least as real as the concept allows it to be, and director Josh Trank does a good job meshing it with a recognisable reality. Thankfully he finds ways of avoiding the shaky cam aesthetic, opting for a camera suspended by Dehaan’s Andrew that glides gracefully across the room as if it’s in zero gravity.

The characters are well defined if a little clichéd: Andrew is emotionally stiff, pushing others away; Matt is the pretentious intellectual and Steve is the popular, charismatic type. Put them together and they make for an interesting combination, rubbing off on each other and forming a close bond. It’s when the shit hits the fan that Chronicle falters.

Chronicle’s faults stem from just how unsubtle and predictable its narrative and characters can be. It’s exemplified in Andrew’s dad: a dreadful father who has a go at his son at every opportunity; verbally and physically assaulting him on a consistent basis. Trank and screenwiter Max Landis are very unsubtle going big and broad (perhaps purposefully so). As a result it becomes rather obvious which direction the story and the characters are going in. Andrew’s brittle shoulders can’t support the misery inflicted upon him and he hits the self-destruct button, unleashing a tidal wave of anger.

Technically the film is both good and bad with some effects looking stunning (not bad for $12 million) and others looking shabby. The final confrontation has echoes of Akira but the staging of it is a little un-engaging; unless, that is, you like seeing characters being punched through a building repeatedly. It’s at this juncture where the found-footage novelty starts to fall apart with Trank struggling to find exciting angles and being able to retain the intimacy that was so necessary in the first half of the film.

Still Chronicle is a more than decent superhero film that’s a) original (ish); b) inventive and c) fresh enough until that third act. After Haywire and The Grey, the early months of the year keep rolling with surprisingly good films.

7/10

In Cinemas: Rampart

I don’t cheat on my taxes… you can’t cheat on something you never committed to.

Two years after their last collaboration, writer/director Oren Moverman and Woody Harrelson reteam for their fascinating crime-drama Rampart: a sombre, rough film that shows a police officer’s life unravel as he adopts a siege mentality when he finds himself under close scrutiny.

Harrelson is Dave Brown, nicknamed ‘Date rape Dave’ (referring to an old case) and he’s a thoroughly unpleasant and prickly character. He’s a contradiction: well spoken, charming and intelligent but also a man who indulges in his Neanderthal tendencies and is adrift from life, anchored in his own ghastly reality that provides justification for whatever actions he commits. When he’s seen beating a man after a car crash it creates a public scandal for the Rampart division of the LA Police force who subsequently leave him out to dry.

Harrelson and the script by James Ellroy and Moverman imbue Brown with some interesting tics: he drinks, he smokes but he never eats and on the one occasion he does, he throws up. Brown’s a sexist, racist, myopic misanthrope empowered by his uniform; an old-school cop out of sync with reality.

Much of the film is about Brown not realising (or accepting) that he’s in crisis: desperately hanging onto his job while staving off the impending implosion of his horror show of a family. Marrying two sisters in succession (Cynthia Nixon and Anne Heche), he has a kid with each one (Brie Larson and Sammy Boyarsky) and they all live under the same roof with Brown insistent that he’ll take care of them; pumping his ego full of false responsibility and adding to his alpha male persona. The real truth Moverman reveals is that his bravado hides the emptiness of his life, a vacuum that’s filled with an onrushing suite of booze, sex and drugs. It’s a deep and complex performance by Harrelson who commands the screen.

There are times when Rampart doesn’t make much sense; is a little ambiguous in its relationships and meaning. Brown’s relationship with Ned Beatty’s Hartshorn is a little confusing in conveying the reasons for Beatty’s actions. In one scene Moverman seems unsatisfied in keeping the camera still, having it pan dizzyingly across the screen to the point where you may well become cross-eyed. The setting (Los Angeles, 1999) feels arbitrary as the film doesn’t make much use of it and the actual Rampart scandal of the 90s will be lost on some. If you’ve seen Training Day, Dark Blue or any other gritty, bad-cop drama then Rampart will feel very familiar.

It’s down to Harrelson that you feel a tiny bit of sympathy for Brown as he self-destructs and disappears into an amoral abyss; mired in a pit of self-loathing from which he attempts to dig himself out of, threatening to bring everyone down with him. The last shot of the film emphasises a truth that Brown been resisiting throughout the film: Rampart is a searing portrait of a man who doesn’t seem to have a decent bone in his body.

At Home: Beastly

What can I say, I’m substance over style.

With news in the last few weeks of Beauty and The Beast remake/re-imaginings appearing in the not too distant future, last year’s Beastly should serve as a warning of the pitfalls associated with returning to a source that’s been successfully mined. Beastly is terrible; ineffective; pointless. It’s a twee Twilight knock-off and even worse: it’s dull.

Beastly’s troubles largely stem from a script that, much like its take on beauty, is shallow and superficial giving its characters no real reason to fall in love and assuming the audience gives a damn about what’s going on. It tries to be cute but often comes across as weird; it’s tried to transplant a fantasy into modern times but the effect is a quasi-real New York that makes little sense in how the characters think and interact with each other.

Alex Pettyfer – an uncharismatic actor – is Kyle Kingston, son of a popular but egotistical news reporter and in my notes the description of Kyle reads as this: ‘dismissive, unlikable, insensitive prick’. He’s cursed by Mary-Kate Olsen’s Goth Kendra and in order to lift the curse he has to find true love. His predictable transformation into a better person feels fraudulent, unearned and incredibly lazy. Pettyfer can’t sell the idea that he’s changed through his own volition and not through wanting to get into Vanessa Hudgen’s pants. He’s too concerned about the curse to make it seem as if he cares about anything else.

It’s a bore of a film. A fable that allows its characters to…well…not ask the questions they should be asking and absent-mindedly flip through some bad dialogue, cheesy interplay and illogical situations. If someone threatened to kill your daughter wouldn’t you call the police rather than hand her off to a stranger with red and blue squiggly lines on his face? (Even if you are a pretty shitty, drug-addled father.)

Bringing it to modern-times makes the story feel incredibly outlandish, the message – inner beauty versus looks blah, blah – is hackneyed and the way director/writer Daniel Barnz chooses to convey it is dull. Perhaps it will work its magic on its younger, intended audience with its Twilight-esque soundtrack and awkward teenage interactions. With little in the way of redeeming features Beastly should have hid away like its central character and kept to itself.

3/10

MyFilmViews Movie Products Blogathon

Nostra at MyFilmViews has started a blog-a-thon. In movie history there are these products everyone would like to get their hands on and try them out. Well, now is your chance by joining the movie products blog-a-thon!

Which movie would you find in your own Pulp Fiction briefcase? (one which you would treasure or is impossible to see because it is not available)

I’m split on whether I would want a film I have seen or one I haven’t. I think I would want a film that I haven’t seen from a director I’m unfamiliar with so I think it would be a contest between Ozu’s Tokyo Story and Cinema Paradiso. I hear they’re fantastic.

If you had a Back to the Future DeLorean, which movie related time period would you travel?

The seventies. That era from ’67 onwards to about ’79 is just terrific for films especially American ones. I’ve been trying to catch up with films from that era but I would love to see them as they were in the cinema. Films like Point Blank, Jaws, The Manchurian Candidate, The Godfather, The Exorcist, All The President’s Men, Halloween, Alien, Carrie, 2001: A Space Odyssey, Star Wars etc. That era really kicked off the type of filmmaking that’s so ingrained in our minds today.

If you woke up tomorrow morning and found out that you were living your own Groundhog Day and could only escape it by watching all the movies from a specific genre, which genre would you choose and why? And which genre would be your personal hell?

Science-fiction. It’s such an interesting and imaginative genre, the kind that relies on visuals to tell the story when it’s done well. The best thing about science-fiction is that it can be mixed with other genres to great effect so you get films like The Prestige, The Adjustment Bureau or The Matrix. It’s incredibly versatile.

My personal hell would be romantic-comedies. Good rom-coms are hard to find and so many of the modern ones are incredibly derivative and clichéd. Horror films would be a close second.

You have the Neuralyzer from Men in Black in your pocket. Which movie would you travel into to use it on one of the characters to change the movie in a fun or interesting way and what would happen because of the change you made?

I would use it on John Travolta’s Vincent Vega in Pulp Fiction and erase his memory so he wouldn’t have to go to Butch’s apartment. I liked that character (I liked all the characters in Pulp Fiction) so it’s a pretty selfish decision on my part. I’m not sure what it would change exactly because the movie plays with time but I’d like to see him and Sam Jackson’s Jules continue their hitman partnership.

If you would be able to enter the dreams of a famous movie character like Cobb did in Inception using the dream machine, which character’s dreams would you jump into to get to know that character better and what do you think their dream world would look like?

I’d want to delve into the mind of Al Pacino’s Michael Corleone, specifically The Godfather Part II. The choices he makes in that film are difficult and some of them are heartbreaking and I’d like to know what was going on in his head. Since he served in World War II, I wouldn’t be surprised if his dreams looked like a battlefield with mob bosses standing in his way.

Lacuna Inc, the company from Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind just opened on the corner of your street. Which one movie memory would you delete to experience it for the first time again?

Die Hard. I grew up on those sorts of action-heavy films and they were a big part of my film experience growing up. The action in that film is great and it’s full of tension and surprises, you’re never quite sure how a scene will pan out. I’d want to experience that with fresh eyes.

Right next to Lacuna Inc, another company Rekall from Total Recall has opened as well. Which character in which movie would you like to be to experience it in first person?

Aliens. Probably from Ripley’s viewpoint. That film is sort of the jumping off point for first-person sci-fi shooters and I think the setting lends itself to being an immersive and scary environment. Who wouldn’t want to operate a gun that can shoot explosive rounds and has a flamethrower attached to it?! Or the the loader? (See below.)

At Home: Crazy, Stupid, Love

I’m going to help you rediscover your manhood. Do you have any idea where you could have lost it?

Just in time for Valentine’s Day Crazy, Stupid, Love aims to sweep you on off your feet and whisper to you cloying messages about love, soul mates and, erm, masturbation.

It is a film that searches for love in every nook and cranny, not looking for answers but poking its head in, observing and then bounding off to the next storyline. It has at least four of them and it is with some difficulty that it manages to incorporate them into one satisfying whole.

It kicks off when Julianne Moore’s Emily asks husband Cal (Steve Carell) for a divorce during a romantic dinner. Storyline number two centres around Ryan Gosling’s womanising Jacob who sees a pitiful Cal drowning his sorrows at a bar and takes it upon himself to reinvigorate him. Storyline number three concerns Jacob and Emma Stone’s Hannah, who is told her romantic life is like a PG-13 film and is urged to find someone who’s a little dangerous. Storyline number four (wipes brow) revolves around Cal’s son Robbie (Jonah Bobo), a soppy kid who believes in soul mates and is infatuated with his babysitter Jessica (Analeigh Tipton) who in turn has a crush on Cal.

Crazy, Stupid, Love is a good example of ‘busy filmmaking’, flooding its narrative with as many stars as possible and letting the charm, sincerity and cheese roll off the screen. It’s not to the level of Gary Marshall’s concoction of awful that was Valentine’s Day and New Year’s Eve but screenwriter Dan Fogelman hasn’t come up with an adequate solution of juggling the story’s multiple threads. Some characters provide comedic relief, others behave in an annoying manner and there’s the sensation that some are ciphers lacking substance.

That being said directors Glenn Ficarra and John Requa (I Love You Philip Morris) keep it light and cheerful with fun jokes and some touching moments, managing to draw a good deal of chemistry from their cast. Bursting at the seams, the script by Fogelman is an interesting look at love through the eyes of each generation. Cal and Emily’s relationship has lost its spark after seventeen years. Hannah and Jacob’s storyline is like alchemy, changing the very essence of their nature. Robbie and Jessica’s is about young love and infatuations that aren’t reciprocated. Surprises are in short supply but the actors generate a lot of goodwill in place of the script’s failings.

The lasting impression of Crazy, Stupid, Love is that it has too much on its plate. Kevin Bacon’s David Lindhagen, John Carroll Lynch’s Bernie and Marisa Tomei’s pedantic Kate are forgettable. I haven’t even started on the ending; one that’s artery clogging and provides the platform for a soppy speech that drags the ending on and on.

So while Crazy, Stupid, Love is bloated, it entertains; where the script trips over its surfeit of characters, the actors rescue it with their charm. Enjoyable fluff.

7/10

In Cinemas: The Grey

Once more into the fray. Into the last good fight I’ll ever know. Live and die on this day. Live and die on this day.

Initially billed as Liam Neeson hobo-fightin’ against a pack of wolves, The Grey is in fact a character piece, an existential film about man vs. nature and a survival film.  If you go in expecting Taken in the frozen tundra, be prepared to be disappointed…

Haggard and depressed, Neeson’s Ottway finds work as a sniper for an oil drilling team in Alaska. Stranded after their plane crashes in the freezing plains, they find themselves at the mercy of a pack of wolves that see them as intruders in their hunting territory.

Carnahan’s The Grey is a grim but fascinating affair about the human spirit with the spectre of death ever present. What’s keeping these men going is the promise that salvation is just past the next tree line, the next ridge or round the river bend. Carnahan delves into what makes this group of people (and you assume, humanity as a whole) hopeful in unfortunate circumstances. There’s nary a bad performance in the cast featuring a few actors you’ll recognise and some you won’t. Neeson, (thankfully in an Irish accent instead of a full blown American one) leads the cast well, carrying the burden of keeping these men alive with his survival skills and knowledge of the wolves’ behaviour.

Carnahan’s script etches each character with a life that stretches beyond the frosty landscape, with regret and fear becoming the primary emotions once they realise the odds aren’t in their favour. Placing them in a harsh environment means we’re rooting for them to survive; the characterisation gives the viewer a clearer indication of why they’re so desperate to carry on.

There is one drawback to the film. The film’s budget feels a bit paltry. The plane crash is a little rough in terms of the CGI (the build-up to it is quite unnerving). The limitation of the budget is apparent any time the wolves appear on screen with Carnahan wisely not showing them in full but conveying their presence through sound design and some clever visual reveals. It suffices for the most part and the marketing certainly gives the wrong impression of the film.

Completely dissimilar to his recent spate of Euro-trash action films like Unknown and Taken, The Grey is an impressive survival drama that bucks the trend of late winter releases being disappointing (at least in the US).  A pinch of salt should be taken with regards to the type of action on display but Carnahan shows some directing nous in making a heartfelt and gutsy film about the will to survive (cue rendition of Eye of the Tiger). The ending is certain to polarise audiences but like the rest of the film, it’s tough and uncompromising.

8/10

In Cinemas: Haywire

You shouldn’t think of her as being a woman. That would be a mistake.

A fair amount of criticism has been laid at Haywire’s door, taking aim at Carano’s acting ability and Lem Dobbs’ screenplay. That criticism, whether fair or unjust, seems to be ever so slightly missing the point with the film being a bit of a contradiction, a classy B-movie.

The plot could be effectively summarised as thus: Gina Carano works her way through the male supporting cast pummelling them into submission or death, whichever comes first. The actual plot revolves around Carano’s Mallory Kane (cool name) seeking answers after she was left high and dry after a job in Barcelona. That line was as simple as my take but it doesn’t include Carano taking names and putting boots to asses.

Carano’s acting is appropriate and Soderberg looks to circumnavigate Carano’s shyness and lack of experience by reducing the dialogue (especially exposition), leaving Mallory a pissed off monosyllabic, monotone soldier of fortune. The action takes advantage of Carano’s expertise as an MMA fighter with Soderberg’s approach to it a reaction against the clumsy, claustrophobically tight composition and silly angles modelled after the excellent Bourne series (and I love the action in the Bourne films, less so its impersonators). The editing is easy to follow, the moves performed intelligible giving the impression that the action is not being cheated or faked. The performers go toe-to-toe: smashing hotel rooms, a diner or anything else that gets in their way.

In Soderberg’s hands Haywire is effortlessly classy production with David Holmes’ bouncy, jazzy score setting the mood when heads aren’t being cracked. Characteristically for Soderberg the film does come across as a touch cold, lacking the ebullience of trashy action movies. One criticism of the film I can agree with is Lem Dobbs’ script which purposefully courts the B-movie dialogue of Commando (“you better run!”) but also seems very reluctant in clearing up the main plot. Told in a non-linear fashion for a fair chunk of the film’s runtime, it’s too mysterious, withholding information that makes the film dense and unclear. The unravelling of the plot at the end does not carry with it the cachet of a revelation, more frustration as to why it was not relayed to the viewer earlier.

Still, while Haywire flirts between being fun and overly complicated it ends up being fun enough that its flaws can be overlooked. Carano oozes physicality, chewing her way through the cast and using their bones to sharpen her teeth. In a year where big budget female driven films are appearing left, right and centre in the next few months, they’re off to solid start.

7/10

At Home: The Guard

I’m Irish. Racism is part of my culture.

John Michael McDonagh’s The Guard opens with teenagers drinking and driving, ending up as another road statistic when they crash their car killing all onboard. When Sergeant Gerry Broyle (Brendan Gleeson) casually walks up to the overturned car, pauses to survey the scene before rifling through a dead kid’s pockets for drugs exclaiming “what a beautiful fucking day”, you know you’re in for an unorthodox film.

So it’s with some disappointment that despite the fantastic notices this film has been receiving on both sides of the Atlantic, The Guard is a good, almost-nearly-not-quite-great film that as much as I may like it’s brand of comedy, is a little lightweight.

It’s a strange, deranged film about Gleeson’s Broyle who teams up with Don Cheadle’s FBI agent to investigate an international drug-smuggling ring. Broyle is a man of many contradictions, tastes and talents making for a character that’s hard to decipher (for both the characters and the viewer). When Cheadle’s Wendell Everett says he has no idea if he’s clever or just plain dumb, you’re right there with him. Gleeson is terrific, wide-eyed and inquisitive as well as sardonic and ignorant, creating a divisive character that’s very watchable.

At times The Guard is a witty deconstruction of the American buddy cop movie with its unlikely match-up, trans-Atlantic culture clash and poking of the genre’s tropes.  There’s an affecting emotional apex to the film in the form of Gerry’s relationship with his mum (Fionnula Flanagan) that’s (purposefully?) a little out of place by being so sweet. However, despite the humorous stereotyping and memorable lines of dialogue the film tries too hard in places to elicit laughs, exemplified by the appearance of the drug smugglers (insouciantly led by Mark Strong) who, while funny, are also fairly inept (that’s part of the joke but where’s the challenge in solving the crime?). The best jokes in the film are the ones revealed at the last moment (like a scene at a diner); The Guard has a tendency to lay its cards on the table too early and then ramble about how good its hand is.

Regardless, The Guard is indecent and proud of it, wearing its un-PC dialogue as a badge of honour connecting it to the other McDonaugh brother Martin’s In Bruges.  It’s brilliant in mining for depraved laughs but it perhaps tries to force the issue a few too many times.

7/10

At Home: Win Win

I wanna go to Ohio and beat the crap out of his mom.

Thomas McCarthy’s on a bit of a hot streak, both writing and directing two little seen films in The Station Agent and The Visitor; small character pieces where McCarthy burdens his protagonists with problems of fitting in, finding friendship or scrounging enough money to pay the bills. They’re relatable and in Win Win he has another perfectly fashioned gem as Paul Giamatti takes the role of a put upon attorney who compromises his own values.

With his law practice struggling to pay the bills and a family to fend for, Mike Flaherty sees an opportunity to earn some easy money when he becomes the guardian of an old man (Burt Young). His decision backfires when the old man’s grandson Kyle (newcomer Alex Shaffer) turns up on his doorstep, bringing unforeseen problems that threaten to put a kibosh on his plans.

More than anything else in McCarthy’s films, the performances feel humane and alive; each character has their own idiosyncratic behaviour (benefiting from character specific re-writes) and you’re happy to be in the company of interesting characters for ninety or so minutes, never outstaying their welcome by becoming braying and useless.

Giamatti can play the troubled middle aged man till the cows come home and he’s particularly good here with a character that’s a little sheepish when it comes to ethics. Amy Ryan is good fun as the feisty but generous mother who keeps Giamatti’s Mike in check. Bobby Cannavale has become McCarthy’s go to man for comic relief and he’s fun here as well. Jeffrey Tambor is the one weak link and that’s not because of his grumpy performance but the lack of screen time afforded to his character as, like a rabbit in magician’s hat, he ups and disappears in the film’s second half.

Win Win is not a particularly ambitious film either thematically or dramatically and McCarthy seems a little too comfortable in telling these types of stories. Nevertheless the script is adept and well done with some sly gags (literally papering over the cracks with Mike’s malfunctioning boiler) or the gradual introduction of characters and the tension in the film’s second half that causes actual repercussions. The eventual reconciliation is a little pat but it takes very little away from the film’s finely tuned dramatic sensibilities, evoking a time when simple dramas were the crowd pleasers instead of billion dollar franchises.

7/10

At Home: Blue Valentine

Tell me how I should be. Just tell me. I’ll do it.

What happens when the love is gone? According to Blue Valentine it’s filled with arguments, breakdowns in communication and a heart-rending attempt to fix a marriage beyond repair. Derek Cianfrance’s drama plays a bit like (500) Days of Summer except it’s packing a devastating punch to the gut.

With last year’s NC-17 controversy in the US firmly behind it and a solid amount of awards and nominations in its locker, Blue Valentine now exists as a film that offers insight in to the nature of modern relationships.  It’s unflinchingly raw as hopes and aspirations are derailed by reality; where rom-coms opt for fantasy as truth Valentine gets into the nitty-gritty, looking at two flawed characters who struggle to do what came so easily to them when they first met.

Ryan Gosling plays Dean, a once charming and good looking man who’s slipped into mediocrity. His wife Cindy, played by Michelle Williams, is a nurse who’s struggling to keep up a convincing facade to their marriage. The film shifts between the past (when they first met) and the present (their subsequent marriage), displaying the physical and emotional changes both have undergone, leaving the audience to wonder what happened to a relationship that had so much promise.

It’s not upbeat, favouring an authentic and harsh look at love and taking the characters into territory that’s hard to watch (one “sex scene” in particular is as far away from loving as you can get). What affects most is Dean’s attempt to salvage the marriage by taking Cindy to a couple’s motel, staving off the reason as to why their relationship has encountered difficulties by trying to rekindle a moment in their lives that’s gone. Like the motel room they stay in (the future room), their marriage is staid and artificial, with tender moments replaced by animosity. Gosling and Williams are both excellent and the low-fi look of the film adds to the realism, encasing their honest performances in a reality you don’t find in more mainstream films.

Blue Valentine is about missed opportunities, disappointments and responsibility (to each other) revolving around finding love that works. There’s one insightful scene with Williams and her character’s grandmother where she admits she never found love and it’s reflected in Cindy’s own parents, a partnership that’s fractious and untenable (interestingly, Cindy’s mother is nowhere to be seen in the present day scenes). Cianfrance delves into the things people don’t want to hear, let alone admit. Love is an intangible, ephemeral thing; if you don’t make it last it could end up wrecking you.

9/10