This new, much anticipated film of Peter Jackson’s starts promisingly enough. Take a run-of-the-mill suburban American family circa early 70s – accountant dad (Mark Wahlberg), well-groomed mom (Rachel Weisz), two daughters (Susie – Saoirse Ronan; Lindsey – Rose McIver), neat house in a typical suburban neighbourhood – then drop into this unremarkable mix a dramatic and shocking voiceover revelation from the oldest daughter (taken verbatim from the Alice Sebold novel upon which the film is based):
“My name is Salmon, like the fish; first name, Susie. I was 14 years old when I was murdered on December 6th, 1973.”

Blast-off! Cold chills, intrigue…we’re on our way!

There’s no doubting this is a good premise: a dead protagonist narrating the story of her murder and its aftermath. Plenty of dramatic scope here to explore the effects of grief on the family – and on Susie, whose violent and untimely death has left her with a swag of issues post-mortem. She must come to terms with her savage disengagement from her mortal coil, with her sense of bewilderment in the afterlife, with her powerlessness as she watches her family in the throes of mourning while her killer (creepily played by Stanley Tucci) escapes justice. Oh, not to mention witnessing her teen crush, Ray Singh (Reece Ritchie), slowly letting go of her memory and moving on to another girl, classmate Ruth Conners (Carolyn Dando).

Unfortunately, the dramatic potential of the premise is never realised. Continue reading ‘The Lovely Bones’ – Movie Review →

Back in the early days of the US occupation of Iraq, I recall a leftie friend blazing away with extreme anti-American rhetoric: “It’s the Yanks who are the terrorists…Bush is the dictator, not Saddam…blah blah…”

Well, although I agreed to an extent, the extremity of statements like these, the sheer lack of balance in lashing one side while ignoring the dark deeds of the other, irks me. Raves like this tap into what I hate about politics, and in particular, political idealism: otherwise tolerant and rational people become raging bigots, hypocrites, selective misanthropes, and worst of all, utterly righteous in their views and dismissive – personally damning, even – of those whose perspectives may differ from theirs. There is no hope of meaningful discourse with such people, no potential for learning.

As Madame Leftie raved on, I maintained a bland facade, containing the head of steam that was beginning to build – that is, until her declaration that “these American soldiers are nothing less than murderers and war criminals.” Continue reading ‘The Hurt Locker’ – Movie Review →

Critics go apeshit over Almodóvar. As one of the canonised contemporary directors, a darling of the arthouse set, he begins each new film with a surplus of critical credit points. No surprise, then, that there are some raves for Broken Embraces. Whack on a genius label and many will see genius regardless of the product. The Emperor’s New Clothes syndrome is in there, but so too, I think, is a fear among critics of showing up as less than discerning. Gotta preserve yer status as informed and sophisticated film buffs, dontcha? Continue reading ‘Broken Embraces’ – Movie Review →