On Matthew McConaughey with Killer Joe & Magic Mike

Rightly or wrongly Matthew McConaughey has been typecast as the male rom-com go to guy, despite doing some interesting work early in his career. It seems that as McConaughey reaches the middle stages of his career, he is seeking out a more varied role and this month has starred in films directed by American legend William Friedkin and current American wonder-director Steven Soderbergh. These are Killer Joe and Magic Mike respectively. Both these roles show darker and more developed sides to McConaughey as an actor.  

Killer Joe is a Deep South thriller that despite occasionally feeling too dramatic and unrealistic is still hugely entertaining. McConaughey channels his inner Texan to bring the titular Joe to life with menace and fans of his rom-coms will be shocked beyond belief at the antics of Joe. It may be farcical at times, but Friedkin likes to shock and shock it does. It also contains the funniest scene in cinema containing a loose thread.

Magic Mike just once again shows that Soderbergh is the master of genre cinema. Science-fiction, biographical drama, crime caper, action, medical outbreak: these are just some of the genres that Soderbergh has worked in. Now with Magic Mike he has turned his hand to male stripping and created an unconventional rom-com. Very unconventional. McConaughey plays the owner of a Tampa strip club where Mike is his star performer struggling with credit (another reason this rom-com is unconventional is that it deals with the working mans’ struggle in recession threatened America). The final third does fall down as it is unable to maintain the same level of engagement while damning the stripping profession, but it is a fantastically fun film, that is well written, well acted and more than it seems. Once again proving that Soderbergh can turn his hand to any story and do it better than 90% of everyone else. Magic Mike also proves again that Soderbergh is a master with his camera, using it beautifully at all times and always finding the angle or the framing that makes the shot that much better. 

On The Hunter

There are not many films set in Tasmania. There may be some that use its stunning landscape, but not many that acknowledge it. The Hunter does both. Here you have two stories running side by side that are equally powerful and complimentary to each other. One is that of the hunter hunting what is thought of the last (if at all) of the Tasmanian tiger. The other follows the hunter’s appropriation as father to a family still suffering the loss of their patriarch. For the most part these two modest stories are compelling and they are most compelling when dialogue free. It is the dialogue aspect of the script that brings the film crashing into reality, rather than keeping us locked in this small, isolated world. The dialogue feels very clichéd and unnatural in the mouths of such great actors. Nevertheless this is a fascinating film that genuinely feels original.

On Unnecessary remakes with The Amazing Spider-Man

In 2002 Sam Raimi directed the first in his Spider-Man trilogy. This year, Marc Webb has directed the first in his The Amazing Spider-Man trilogy. That small difference in the name change can be continued throughout both films. Small changes. Small, unnecessary changes. The Amazing Spider-Man is so similar to the 2002 film that it is unclear why Webb felt it necessary to make his film. From identical scenes to the same themes, the differences Webb has brought to the origin story of Spider-Man are not significant enough to warrant this film being made only ten years after Spider-Man. The one hugely positive thing to note about The Amazing Spider-Man is the 3D, which is crystal clear and well accommodated for. The only negative about the 3D is a negative that exists for all 3D films – it dims the screen and if this can’t be fixed, the technology is not worth having, as the difference when you raise the glasses is huge. 

On Your Sister's Sister

Your Sister’s Sister is a low budget American independent film with a very manufactured premise that is pulled off without pretension. The dialogue may occasionally be melodramatic, but the performances are affecting and low key. It is telling that the most ‘Hollywood’ of the three actors, Emily Blunt, fits in to the mixture less well than the other two. The characters and the beautifully shot landscape engage throughout, right up until the end, which feels far more out of touch with the rest of the film. There is some weight to the cut-to-black ending that leaves string untied, but it should be used only when appropriate to the narrative. In Your Sister’s Sister it isn’t appropriate and you leave the film feeling a little cheated for the investment given for the past ninety minutes. 

On Narrative in Cosmopolis

Dialogue that makes almost no sense; a narrative that lacks any recognisable conventions; a limited setting and an actor best known for sending teenage girls crazy. This is David Cronenberg’s Cosmopolis, an often nonsensical allegory of the recession in America. Cosmopolis is based on a novel by Don DeLillo and stars Robert Pattinson as Eric Packer, a billionaire financier trapped in his limousine and considering the fiscal consequences of the fall in Chinese currency.

That is about as understandable as the dialogue gets as Cronenberg uses, in verbatim, DeLillo’s extreme financial jargon. Despite this, what we need to understand about the story (Eric’s financial and personal breakdown) is clear, in spite of the piecemeal narrative that remains largely in the back of a limousine, but takes in eateries, bookshops and run down apartments to stage the destruction of a young financial genius.

Cosmopolis is a marked departure from Cronenberg’s recent, conventional narrative films such as A History of Violence (2005), Eastern Promises (2007) and the disappointing A Dangerous Method (2011). It is in fact a return to the type of cinema he was creating in the 1980s and 1990s and what for what he is most famously known; Naked Lunch (1991), Existenz (1999), Videodrome (1983).

The question remains, are the frustrations and difficulties we experience when watching Cosmopolis a perfect metaphor for the economic crash or is it simply frustrating cinema, adapted from a frustrating book that isolates rather than stimulates.  

On an IMAX Experiment with Prometheus

Can IMAX and 3D technology remedy the shortcomings of a film? The answer is no, but it goes along way to making the immediate experience more enjoyable. In terms of IMAX pre-sales, Prometheus is the most anticipated film to be shown on the (really) big screen. And for good reason. With Prometheus, director Ridley Scott is offering up the opening chapter to the mythology of the alien from his seminal 1979 sci-fi horror film, Alien.

There are positives and negatives on display here. The positive being that Scott has lost none of his flair for visual magnificence. On a regular screen some of Prometheus’ shots are incredible. At the IMAX and in 3D, they are breathtaking. Scott makes the most of his inhospitable landscape as we soar over waterfalls and barren rock surfaces. The setting where the majority of the film occurs (the pyramid) is equally enhanced by the immersive nature of IMAX, ensuring we feel the fear and oppressive nature of the space.

The difference lies with the negatives. On a regular screen they become frustrating during the film. There is a lack of decent character development and an inconsistent script, either making characters sound like arrogant teenagers or self-righteous prophets. The best line being, when they arrive on the distant, unvisited planet and find a runway, that “God doesn’t build in straight lines.” There are plot holes and questions left unanswered which should not have been especially surrounding characters’’ motives. With the exception of Michael Fassbender’s David, none of the characters are that interesting. All these issues stem from the same problem; the idea is given precedence over characters and story. The premise is so big (and hinted at by its title) and given so much attention that it takes over from the most important part of any film, the story and the characters.

There are some very well constructed scenes (an unwelcome birth scene will resonate for days), but they bring disappointment with them as we wonder how much more effective they could have been if we cared about the characters. Prometheus isn’t a bad film, but its flaw are heightened by the ceremony with which it announces itself and that begins with Ridley Scott’s name.  

On Moonrise Kingdom

Immediately recognisable as a Wes Anderson film, Moonrise Kingdom continues the director’s run of seven feature films and not one of them less than good. Despite the similarity of themes in Anderson’s films (dysfunctional families, the loss of childhood) of which Moonrise Kingdom adheres to, it never feels like old ground being reworked. The ensemble cast, theatre like set design and camera tracking movement are proverbial Anderson idiosyncrasies and bring with them a sense of warmth that all over his films have. This is not to say that Moonrise Kingdom is maudlin. Like all of Anderson’s work (especially The Royal Tenenbaums (2001)), the film has an edge amongst the sentimentality. Dark, touching and funny, Moonrise Kingdom cements Anderson’s place as one of the most talented directors working in American cinema.