On The Wolverine

This is the sixth film that Hugh Jackman’s Wolverine has appeared in and this is no surprise as he is the most interesting of the X-Men characters and one of the more interesting superheroes from any canon.

This latest film eponymously titled The Wolverine sends the mutant to Tokyo, partly out of deference to one of the early Wolverine graphic novels and partly to satisfy the increasing Asian market. Whatever the reason it makes for a more interesting film by offering a change of scenery and a new culture for Wolverine to immerse himself in. The idea of samurai and ronin seems one built for such a character and the script appreciates this and builds a story around it.

For two thirds of the film, The Wolverine feels like a pared back, character based superhero film and benefits for it. The last third unfortunately defaults to familiar territory spending two much money and inventing implausible situations. There is brief redemption in the final shot, but the end does disappoint in an otherwise entertaining film. 

On Twists and Now You See Me

The greatest trick Now You See Me, which follows a group of arrogant but morally conscious magicians, performs is in assembling a diverse and talented cast. For all its CGI and hubris, this is only mildly entertaining (a five minute illusion from Arrested Development’s Gob Bluth is far more fun). Like many films it relies on a final third twist, but unlike many films its twist is simply a way of proving how much ‘smarter’ it is than its audience. It isn’t. Now You See me uses the kind of twist that the CSI series’ use; you can’t guess it because it has no real connection to the rest of the film. Unlike films such as The Usual Suspects (1995) and Shutter Island (2010) whose twists are present throughout, with clues scattered within the narrative that enhance the experience, Now You See Me culminates in a clumsy ending that renders much of what came before annoying and implausible. 

On The World's End

It may not be obvious, but The World’s End is the conclusion to a trilogy that begins in 2004 with Shaun of the Dead and moved on Hot Fuzz (2007). The common features being the director, the two lead actors and the genre bending narratives of the three films. It is known as The Cornetto Trilogy.

Shaun of the Dead was the first rom-com-zom (romantic, comedy, zombies). Hot Fuzz was comedy, police procedural and a nod to crime epics like Heat (1995). The World’s End, again comedy has conventions of the slacker genre as well as being apocalyptic, with a slice of Stand By Me (1986).

The remarkable skill of all these films is in their ability to seamlessly blend all these genre conventions into a smooth, concise narrative while at the same time creating characters that fit into these mesh films and that we can care about.

The World’s End does this slightly less well than the other two. While Simon Pegg’s protagonist is a layered character, the film fails to move him along in the final third, instead relying on apocalyptic action. This is a problem, but does not detract too much from the fun and the laughs. 

On The Bling Ring

Just two posts ago the idea of celebrity was examined in This is the End with some incorporation of Richard Dyer’s star theory. With The Bling Ring, Sophia Coppola explores what Dyer could not, for it focuses on an obsession with celebrity that is a construct of the last fifteen years: a fascination with celebrity that transcends traditional forms of entertainment.

In The Bling Ring, celebrities are not famous because of what they bring to film or even because of their intertextual representations; they are commodities, lifestyles to be bought into that the celebrities themselves are, at times, as guilty of perpetuating as are those that obsess over them (especially the reality TV stars that feature).

Coppola’s film is incredibly precise in how it portrays what is a growing trend (problem) in society and traces the issue back to gossip magazines, reality TV and the start of our celebrity obsessed culture. This is a very contemporary representation of youth (a youth full of blind confidence and maturity) and it may not translate to an audience even one generation older than the film’s protagonists. In addition, the narrative becomes repetitive and this is not Coppola’s best film. But it may however be her most pertinent for it addresses an issue accurately that we are in the middle of rather than relying on hindsight. 

On B Movies and Pacific Rim

Susan Hayward in her Cinema Studies The Key Concepts describes B movies as “cheap, quickly made movies…screened as a second feature alongside a major feature film (called A movies)”. B movies in the 1950s were often of the sci-fi genre, openly exploitative and also less constrained by the need to offer serious content. Many of the recent summer blockbustes could be described as B movies, although they attempt to hide this behind pseudo-intellectualism, such as Christian mythology in Man of Steel. Pacific Rim attempts no such tricks; it lays its B movies credentials on the table.

There is nothing more to the narrative of Pacific Rim that you cannot learn from the trailer, or even a poster. Yet, what the full feature does reveal are the weaknesses in script and acting, both of which are at times painful to experience. Guillermo del Toro may be attempting to create an authentic B movie of the 50s, but it doesn’t translate. The special effects may be impressive, but the story is weak. It is hard to believe that Pacific Rim comes from the man who brought us Pan’s Labyrinth (2006), one of the most impressive pieces of cinema of the last ten years.

On Star Theory and This is the End

Richard Dyer’s star theory is a seminal piece of writing surrounding the question of celebrity. This is the End offers an opportunity to apply this theory in a way rarely offered; one where the celebrities play themselves, or versions of themselves.

This is the End, on the surface, appears incredibly self indulgent. Writer director Seth Rogan (previously working within the anecdotal with Superbad (2007) here, along with his professional partner Evan Goldberg, tells the story of himself partying with his celebrity friends in Los Angeles as the biblical apocalypse arrives.

Roughly, Dyer’s theory can be broken down three ways. Firstly, that stars are employed purely for the financial advantages they bring to a film. Secondly, the stars are used because of the physical appeal they offer. Thirdly, and the idea that best applies to This is the End is the one that concerns the intertextual relationship between stars and audiences.

The intertextuality of a star depends not only on the roles they take, but in the persona that they create for themselves outside of film. Via the success of the Judd Apatow films in which Rogen and many of his This is the End co-stars found their celebrity, they have developed the tag of bro-mance. We, the public, see them as close friends who have found fame and fortune together and make films with each other to great financial and often critical success. It’s easy to find them frustrating and the success of This is the End comes from knowledge of this. Rogen and co. all play slightly exaggerated versions of expected celebrity (Jonah Hill’s precious Oscar nominee is especially good) while including some added quirk, such as James Franco becoming obsessed with Rogen following their film Pineapple Express (2008).

What This is the End says about celebrity is simply that we (the audience, the fans) only know the representation, not the person. And while this message may be simply executed and become lost during the CGI heavy final third, it is a relevant one.