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I had read Veronica Roth’s Divergent before the adaptation sauntered onto cinema screens, heralded as the next The Hunger Games, and what I discovered was that I preferred the film to the book. There was more action on show, and I felt that the film fixed many of the things I found problematic with the book’s narrative. So when I discovered that the book of Insurgent didn’t impress, I decided to bypass it and wait for the film.
Life Itself is a superlatively crafted documentary that gives a compelling, poignant insight into Roger Ebert, while also delving into the subject of film criticism and its relationships with the film industry. When I want to see a film’s critical reception, I head for Rotten Tomatoes rather than IMDB, because the latter is saturated with fan-boys and uninformed opinion. Rotten Tomatoes introduced me to many different critics who wrote for reputable sources such as The Guardian, The New York Times and The Telegraph, but time and again I was drawn to the small thumbnail image of a white haired, bespectacled man who wrote for the Chicago Sun-Times.
Unfinished Business was something of a surprise to hear about, but the combination of Vince Vaughn, Tom Wilkinson and Dave Franco was enough to convince me that it might be worth a shot. Coming across as a clichéd but entertaining story of down on their luck business men on a European jaunt, I expected some impressive improvisational comedy from Vaughn, some gravitas from Wilkinson, and maybe something worthy of note from Dave Franco (who was great in Now You See Me). But, as we all know, expectations are a dangerous thing.
Film Noir is not an easy genre to tackle nowadays, simply because trends in culture have changed. The hard-boiled detective of the black and white screen, the one with the alienated, tough exterior and a penchant for femme fatales – think Dana Andrews in Laura or Bogie in The Big Sleep – would cause no more than a snicker, so removed are they from the world we witness every passing day. Our post-modernist mindset asks for the type of heroes we find authentic, those we can relate to, this is why the grand days of Film Noir have passed – which is not to say some of its elements cannot be used for fine, fine cinema.
An animated film that is targeted towards young children should be colorful, with lots of movement and hopefully an outlandish character or two. Most importantly, though, it must have heart. It should tackle themes that are important to kids, and provide lessons that they can take away from the cinema and begin to apply to real life, not just in the way that they behave but also in the way that they understand the world around them.
One of the worst clichés that appears in an alarmingly large number of movies is the “two kinds of people in this world” speech. In Focus, Will Smith’s suave con artist Nicky Spurgeon tells his protégé/part-time lover Jess Barrett (Margot Robbie) his version of the done-to-death cliché: there are two types of people, hammers and nails.
In an article entitled “Why It’s Important to Make More Diverse LGBT Films,” fellow Film Inquiry writer Cherokee Seebalack lamented: “Where are all the LGBT romcoms at?” Where, indeed.
With the blockbuster success of Fifty Shades of Grey in cinemas worldwide, many pundits are claiming that this marks a new era for “sex positive” movies – and much more importantly, the basic idea of a woman being as sexually open as her male counterparts not being a source of cinematic shame, but one of pride. It has only been two decades since what I dub the “unofficial Michael Douglas misogyny trilogy” of Fatal Attraction, Basic Instinct and Disclosure hit cinemas, films that (like Fifty Shades) were successful due to their frankness of sexuality. Yet those movies were inherently misogynist in suggesting that women were mentally unstable, or just plain evil for daring to be as open about their sexuality as men.
“Our life is frittered away by detail…simplify, simplify.” The average life of the white collar worker is, from sunrise to sunset, an endless escapade of chores, professional obligations, and miscellaneous daily tasks, from the big decisions we have to make (college, job, spouse, etc.
It’s often stated that January and February are the two worst cinematic months of the year, as all of the major new releases are more often than not the terrible movies major studios have just “dumped” there. Yet it could easily be argued that the months leading up to the end of the year (“awards season” or “prestige season”, if you prefer to forget that Hollywood backslapping ceremonies exist) are equally bad. They do usually provide the year’s best movies, yet they also provide the kinds of movies that have been made cynically to get awards.
Into The Woods is a big screen adaptation of the Stephen Sondheim musical of the same name, adapted by the writer of the original musical book, James Lapine, and directed by Rob Marshall (of Chicago fame). The film boasts a number of successful actors in musical roles. When I first heard of the film, this was enough to pique my curiosity, but as the release date approached my enthusiasm for it lessened.
J.C. Chandor may be just starting out, but his film resume is already very impressive.
Why do we strive for greatness? What pushes someone to practice something over and over, until his hands bleed, until he perfects it? Can this intensity be brought out in all of us?
It is undeniable that the new millennium has seen fantasy novel adaptations reign supreme over Hollywood territory. It began in the year 2001 when the British again invaded America: now in the filmmaking industry.
Although many are still reeling from the aftershocks of the Sony hacking scandal, the growth of the cybercrime era had actually reached red alert long before the North Koreans. It is quite frightening to imagine how a person could be as deadly as a nuclear weapon with just one click of a keyboard, and it remains a problem unresolved by international governments. As always, Hollywood’s part on this is to jump on the bandwagon, establishing a new genre of its own with collective bits of movie magic in order to turn in easy money for film studios.