My Updated Film Rating System

I had a moment this week of writing notes on films I'd seen in the cinema when I realised that my film rating system was slightly out of date, and that I had to do something about it. My incredibly vain film rating system is based on my name – five letters in 'DAVID' equates to the five-star system of most film reviews, and I was able to take variations of my name and the letters in the word to come up with different permutations for different numbers of stars. It made sense to me.

So far, so good. But, looking at one entry in particular, you can see how long ago I came up with this idea. For a film that I would classify as something you might enjoy because it's well made and there are some good bits but don't really need to see it in the cinema, I rate it as 'VID', meaning you should check it out on video. Yes, it kind of ages me, doesn't it? Fortunately, my wonderful name is so amazingly mutable, it can survive the transition to the more modern way of watching films at home and come up with a new version for the same rating: DVD.

Brilliant, eh?

Therefore, I now present my updated Film Rating System Based On My Own Name:

DAVID (five stars out of five)
A completely brilliant film (as my name encapsulates brilliance). Everything about it means that it ends up on 'end of year' lists. You should see it in the cinema as soon as you've finished reading my thoughts on it.

DAVE (four stars out of five)
A really good film that most people would enjoy. Not necessarily a classic but the sort of film that you enjoyed so much that you want to recommend it to your friends, and you know you'll buy it on DVD (Bluray, whatever) when it comes out. Like a Dave, you can trust it, although it might not to be everybody's taste.

DVD (three stars out of five)
Even though this might date me in a few years, this rating means you should watch the film when it comes out on DVD. The film is enjoyable, especially if you like that sort of thing, or it might have some particularly good performances or set pieces, but not enough to warrant a trip to your local cinema.

DA (two stars out of five)
It starts out well but it doesn't end well. The intention was good to begin with but the result isn't worth talking about, not worth finishing. The film isn't so bad that you can celebrate its awfulness, but it's not any good; a bit of a disappointment.

D (one star out of five)
The worst rating for a film, the D can stand for 'Disastrous', 'Deplorable', Diabolical'. This is a film that makes you angry because it was so bad. It's made worse when it makes good people look rubbish, as if they don't know what they're doing. It makes you wonder how it got made, let alone got released. It's Distressing, it's Disappointing, it's Doggie Doo-doo.

Notes On A Film: Up In The Air

This was a good film in all aspects: the script, adapted from a novel, was sharp and warm and resonant, but without being preachy; Jason Reitman directs with a sure touch, light when needed, visually interesting when necessary (this now makes three really good films he's made in a row, after Thank You For Smoking and Juno); the acting from the three leads are perfect: George Clooney plays himself but also showing depths of emotion in silent reactionary moments, and Vera Farmiga and Anna Kendrick were fully deserving of their Oscar nominations as well, playing their characters completely.

Even though the novel was written about six years beforehand, the topicality of the story resonates throughout – Clooney is a man who fires people for a living, coming in when bosses don't have the courage to do it himself; however, Kendrick comes to the firm with the idea that they should do it all by video conference calls, which would disrupt Clooney's perfect life, flying all around the country with no ties, hardly staying at home and living his life out of a suitcase. So the bosses send him out with Kendrick to show her the ropes. During this time, Clooney meets Farmiga, a female equivalent to Clooney, and they form a relationship (and the most sensual and erotic moment in a film in a long while, when Farmiga walks over to Clooney in a hotel room, wearing just his tie wrapped around her waist like a belt).

The film is able to take a character with whom we shouldn't feel any empathy – Clooney deliberately avoids any connections with people, barely interacting with his own family, and giving lectures on how to get through life without any baggage, and whose only aim in life is to acquire ten million air miles – and allow us to understand him and his realisation that he may not have the answers. This could have turned into syrupy nonsense, where Clooney would have learned all about the wonders of family and love, but the film avoids such a twee ending, avoiding the easy ending and arriving at a much more appropriate denouement. I really, really liked this film, which was warm, funny, moving and well done. It's a shame that we have to wait until the awards season for films like this to arrive.

Rating: DAVE

[See here for my film rating system]

Notes On A Film: Sherlock Holmes

There is something so innately British to Sherlock Holmes, it always surprises me that the character is one of a handful of fictional creations known the world over. I love the well-written stories by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, but I am not someone who thinks that there is only one interpretation of Holmes. I grew up watching the Basil Rathbone films – they seemed to show them on BBC2 a lot – and Jeremy Brett will always be the definitive television Holmes to me, in looks and manner and temperament, but anything that keeps the stories alive is fine with me.

I was surprised that Guy Ritchie decided to direct the film – he's always seem more interested in directing his own scripts, to varying degrees of success (Lock, Stock And Two Smoking Barrels and Snatch, good; Revolver, awful). However, working from someone else's screenplay, he seems to loosen up and have a good time and show that he can direct a crowd-pleasing blockbuster, with occasional flourishes of his own.

The story seems to pick and choose various elements from the books, with different lines and elements being direct lifts from the whole range, and the storyline seems an obvious choice: having the rational Holmes investigating what looks like a supernatural villain. However, the point of this film is not to slavishly adapt century-old short stories; it is to create a modern action comedy franchise (albeit set in the past), something which it does very successfully (although it feels more like setting up the franchise than something in its own right). Taking the single reference to the martial art 'baritsu' in one of the stories and extrapolating it into Holmes as an action hero is a stretch but one that isn't objectionable; also, having Watson as a physical companion (rather than the bumbling of Bruce Jones of the Rathbone films) is logical based on being a war veteran.

The film works best with the 'buddy' relationship at the heart of the story: Holmes (Robert Downey Jr in fine form, although his excellent English accent seems mewled and mumbled, which is very unlike any interpretation of Holmes I can imagine) and Watson (Jude Law in a solid and funny turn). The bickering, the closeness, the love for each other apparent in their banter – the two actors sell it really well, and the film buzzes along nicely when they are sharing screen time. The other actors do good jobs: Mark Strong is good as ever as the villain Lord Blackwood, Rachel Adams is fine as the femme fatale, and Kelly Reilly is good in an underwritten role as Watson's fiancée who causes Holmes dismay in the breaking up of the Holmes–Watson relationship.

The narrative is quite straightforward, unusual for a Ritchie film, although it does have those lapses of logic that blockbuster films suffer from when trying to get through the plot (such as lack of damage to Watson after we see him caught in the middle of a huge, fiery explosion, or using the Holmes intellect as a patch-up excuse to cover any plot holes), but it can't be denied that it's a lot of fun. I don't mind an action hero Sherlock Holmes, and I look forward to the sequel, where they can tell a full story without having to worry about all the set-up.

Rating: VID

[See here for my film rating system]

Notes On A Film: The Book Of Eli

Ever since Dead Presidents, I’ve looked out for Hughes Brothers’ films. It’s a shame they haven’t done that many – they have a strong visual approach and a focus on what stories they want to tell. I enjoyed From Hell on its own merits – it’s a period cop-on-the-edge movie – even though (a) it’s not an actual adaptation of the superior graphic novel by Alan Moore and Eddie Campbell and (b) Heather Graham is absolutely awful in it. Therefore, a post-apocalyptic movie starring Denzel Washington is a definite visit to the cinema.

The Book of Eli is essentially a Western – Washington is a nameless man (is it Eli? It’s never confirmed) who is walking across a destroyed America. He has a book that he is trying to get to somewhere West, and fights off anyone who tries to take it. Things get sticky when he reaches a town run by Gary Oldman, who wants the book because he believes it will help him control the people and more towns.

The film looks great – it has a bleached, washed-out feel of a sun-ravaged desert country, and the Hughes Brothers film Washington to make him as cool as possible, making him look the unkillable cowboy loner, with some good camera work and well-choreographed fight scenes. Washington is great and Oldman is good (and there are quirky cameos from Michael Gambon and Frances De La Tour, to up the ‘Harry Potter Factor’ to three), and it was nice to see the Jennifer Beals on the big screen – still looking luminous (and back on screen with Washington after the excellent Devil In A Blue Dress) – even if it’s only a small role. Mila Kunis is fairly bland in her role, and she looks very silly at the end when she dons Washington’s stuff to go back out into the wilderness – she looked like those dorky idiots who wore long black coats and black boots after seeing The Matrix, thinking it made them look cool like their hero without realising they looked like a prat copying something out of a film.

The only troubles I had with the film were near the end: although I partially guessed the reveal about the book (which did make me smile), the second reveal annoyed me, even if there were clues scattered throughout the film – it made the preceding events more implausible, and I think it would have been more impressive if Washington’s character had learned what he needed to complete his task after the event. But there was also the annoyance of ‘the bad guy doesn’t kill the hero properly for no other reason than he’s the hero’ – Oldman has Washington at his mercy, after all the trouble he has caused and all the people he has killed, and shoots him once in the stomach and leaves him to die. I hated that – it takes you out of the reality of the movie; after making your bad guy fit the part, you don’t get to stop him being the bad guy and thus allow the hero to live and complete his mission just by walking away and not being bothered to kill him completely by shooting him several times in the head. It’s stupid and insulting to the audience – I can believe it if he escaped through skill or luck, but not because the bad guy is lazy or an idiot.

Rating: VID

[See here for my film rating system]

Notes On A Film: Daybreakers

Ethan Hawke is not someone I immediately think of when discussing the idea of an ‘action hero’ (even after the remake of Assault on Precinct 13), let alone someone who appears in obvious genre movies. However, his nervy sensitivity is rather appropriate for his character in this film, which is an enjoyable slice of vampire-based action.

The film is set in a world not dissimilar from ours but where a change occurred 10 years previously that turned most people into vampires – vampires who don’t bloody ‘sparkle’ but burn up in sunlight (as seen by the suicide of a young girl in the opening sequence), who have no reflection, who have fangs and who must drink human blood to survive. Humans are an endangered species, and the world lives at night (there are some lovely shots of sunlit empty cityscapes), with shutters on their windows to block out light and stalls serving liquids with 20% blood. However, blood is running low and vampires who don’t drink blood for a prolonged stretch start to turn into more feral versions, with wings and more bat-like faces and scaly skin, with extra strength and speed. This world-building is done well by the writers/directors, the Spierig brothers, and is perhaps the strongest aspect to the film, from the cool visual of eyes glowing in the dark as vampires smoking cigarettes wait for the subway, to the adverts that adorn the walls. (An aside – I wonder how this vampire world works. If everyone is a vampire, then surely they all want to do the vampire stuff; therefore, how do they get people to run the electricity plants to power everything, or people to do menial jobs like serve coffee or drive trains or sweep streets? Or am I over-thinking things?)

Hawke is the chief haematologist at the largest supplier of blood (they have huge banks of humans being drained), and he’s trying to find a synthetic alternative, but without much success. Hawke was turned and doesn’t feel comfortable being a vampire, so doesn’t drink blood any more, much to his brother’s annoyance (who is a soldier and happy being a vampire). Things change for Hawke when he helps some humans escape detection, leading him to interacting with a band of survivors and the potential for a cure in the form of Willem Dafoe.

It’s very odd to see a vampire film with Hawke, Dafoe (Cirque Du Freak had a similarly odd vibe, and I don’t think Shadow of a Vampire is quite the same) and Sam Neill (he plays the head of the blood corporation) – you don’t expect to see actors with such authority in genre flicks, which is suggestive of something although I don't know what. The film sets up the parallel of current humanity overpopulating the earth and running out of resources, but doesn’t really delve into it. Instead, it seems more concerned about being human again, and how being human is so much better than being a vampire. After the set-up, it turns more traditional – instead of getting back at man’s weakness (being vampire is easier than the alternative) and the ease with which we allow the evil of corporations to dominate us, it decides that Neill’s character is the epitome of evil who must be vanquished and personally punished in a vicious manner (having been tricked into being cured, he is tied to a chair and given to soldiers who haven’t eaten in a while, meaning we see the sight of Sam Neill being devoured by starving vampires, looking a bit like zombies eating on human flesh – there is an hilarious scene, set in slow-motion, of a foyer full of soldiers chomping down on cured former vampires, blood spurting from severed arteries; I don’t think it’s supposed to be played for laughs …), and ignores the moral ramifications of corporations and the collaboration by the rest of society.

There is also an unnecessary subplot about Neill’s human daughter that doesn’t add anything or do anything for the plot – the film suffers from a feeling that it’s not a film in its own right; it seems like the first in a hoped-for franchise or an expensive (well, not for film) pilot for a television series, especially with the ending. The ending goes for the openness of the ending of The Matrix but without providing a satisfying narrative conclusion on its own.

Rating: VID

[See here for my film rating system]

From A Library – Wolverine: Origins: Born In Blood

Wolverine: Origins #1–5 by Daniel Way and Steve Dillon

Too much damn punctuation in that damned title ...

You know what's weird? Seeing a good artist on the wrong title – Dillon is an excellent penciller but he shouldn't be drawing Wolverine superhero comics. Punisher comic books, written by Garth Ennis, yes, he should draw those, but not mainstream superhero books that are about making the people in spandex look good. It doesn't seem to blend; the art style and the content jar with each other. His artwork on dialogue scenes and those action scenes that don't involve people in spandex is great – sharp, clear, focussed storytelling, great facial expressions; typical Dillon. It's just the other stuff that doesn't work. It doesn't help that he doesn't do a particularly good Wolverine in costume, which is slightly vital for this book, although he does a particularly impressive 'evil' Logan – the look on Logan's face as he tortures Nuke (before he became Nuke) is scary.

The story, and the entire point of this book it would seem, is a case of 'Provide background information on Logan but without actually revealing anything of actual value'. It's not helped by the weird choice of Nuke – I'm not aware of his origin, but he's a character I associate with Frank Miller's landmark run on Daredevil, which is not something you want to compare your comics with unless you are writing some bloody impressive stories. I also don't understand the Muramasa blade aspect of this story – why on earth would you give Wolverine, a man most famous for having six claws in his arms which he can use to cut through anything (because they're made of adamantium), a great big sword that cuts through anything but that he has to carry around with him? It's completely illogical and extremely silly.

If anything, this collection of comic books is more an origin story for Frank Simpson, aka Nuke, which kind of misses the point of this book if you ask me. Even trying to liven things up by having Wolverine fighting Captain America seems off-kilter, with very weak justification for their opposition. And the book goes to all this effort to give Logan yet another bloody back story – how many does this once-mysterious character actually need? Are these 'filling in the blanks' stories the only ones Marvel is permitting anyone to tell now? And having him as a handler of psychopaths and turning them into weapons that can be used for whatever agency requires them just seems unnecessary. It's trying too hard. I don't know if this was the first mention of the son who is now almost as ubiquitous as his father, but it saddens me to see what has happened to Wolverine.

From A Library – Batman: The Resurrection Of Ra's Al Ghul

Batman Annual #26, Robin Annual #7, Batman #670, #671, Robin #168, #169, Nightwing #138, #139, Detective Comics #838, #839; written by Grant Morrison, Paul Dini, Peter Milligan, Fabian Nicieza, Keith Champagne; art by Don Kramer, Jason Pearson, Tony Daniel, David Lopez, Freddie Williams II, Ryan Benjamin and others

I can't remember the last time I read a trade paperback with so many people responsible for the story – I'm used to comics that have a small creative team producing a singular vision. This is because I tend towards writers rather than characters – I follow a creator (or creative team) onto a book, rather than stick with a book (or family of books, such as the Batman books in this case) through thick and thin. This works for me, and this book is evidence to make me feel comfortable in my choice.

Reading this story was actually distracting – wildly different art styles from issue to issue threw me out of the story, jumping from a snazzy artist like Pearson to a more usual DC artist like Kramer. The huge editorial task also led to errors, such as Batman saying 'four of you' when facing three ninjas (in the middle of Australia), or different clothes on the same character from one issue to the next. Some artists seemed to have rushed their art to meet their deadlines, always a problem with corporate comics on a tight schedule, while some seem obsessed with oversexing the female characters (cough, Daniel, cough), which isn't something I expect from the Batman family of books.

At least with the well-oiled editorial machine means the plot holds together well over the course of so many books, keeping the story mechanics together, but – spoilers, of a sort – it's all in service of reverting the status quo of Ra's from dead to living (how long did they let him stay dead?) and nothing much else, so what's the point? It's a moderately impressive achievement for telling a coherent story over many books, but in the end it's something for the Batman fans only, rather than fans of the individual writers, whose voices are subsumed in service to the mediocre story. It makes me feel sorry for the writers, who have to stop whatever stories they are doing for another narrative, and for the fans of the individual comic books, who have to suffer the disruption of a crossover.

From A Library – The Flash: The Wild Wests

The Flash #231–237 by Mark Waid, Daniel Acuna, Freddie Williams III

Waid's original run on The Flash was a charming, joyful, modern delight – it wasn't a Silver Age throwback as some would have it, but a story of a man doing the right thing (with science!) while growing up and falling in love. It was my gateway into the DC universe, it introduced me to the concept of the hero legacy in the DC universe (something that Geoff Johns seems to be trying to eliminate by bringing back the original Flash and Green Lantern), and it gave me an appreciation of a style of comic book storytelling that wasn't being used. It also made me a fan of Waid for life.

Therefore, it's nice to see Waid back on The Flash – the science aspect returns and family has become a focal point of the book – but the dynamic has changed. Instead of a relaxed Wally West (who had a lot of Waid's attributes projected onto him, which worked really well and made it feel like a very personal superhero comic book), Wally and Iris now have two children, who aged quickly due to having speed powers, and Wally is training them to be superheroes to help them look after their powers. It's an unusual set-up for a mainstream superhero book, which works and doesn't – the idea is a good one (it's a bit like The Incredibles, which Waid went on to write for Boom) but it seems at odds with the Flash, or what the Flash has been about. I'm not against change, but it's quite a dramatic alteration to the status quo at a time when the book was in the balance (Waid didn't last much beyond this collection of issues, and things are very different for Flash now). Also, it doesn't seem as polished as would be expected from Waid, as if he was still finding his feet after coming back on to the series.

The other thing that doesn't seem to work as well as I expected was the art. Acuna, an artist whose cover work has been great, doesn't seem to be as strong on interiors; his soft, beautiful style doesn't match The Flash, with inconsistent faces and slightly washed-out look (I always associate The Flash with sharpness and definition). Williams has a chunky style that is fine, but it doesn't suit any of the characters in this story, particularly The Flash; his art comes off looking like a manga version of Bart Sears.

The best part of this book was 'The Fast Life', co-written by Waid and John Rogers and drawn by Dougie Braithwaite – it's much more like what I was expecting from this book and tells a great little story well. That it's a digression from the main story is not a good sign, and means that this collection is not even an interesting curio of what could have been if it had led to another long run on The Flash from Waid.

From A Library – Justice League of America: The Lightning Saga

Justice League of America #0, #8–12, Justice Society of America #5–6 by Brad Meltzer and Geoff Johns, and various artists

The JLA/JSA crossover – tradition or lack of ideas? I didn't grow up reading DC comics, so I don't have nostalgia for this cornerstone of comic book history to impel me, unlike Meltzer and Johns, who are positively swimming in it. These guys LOVE the old stuff, and this must have been a wet dream come true for the pair of them. Strangely, even though it's JLA/JSA crossover, in fact it's about the Legion of Super-Heroes (part of John's restoration process of another well-loved but under-performing comic book perennial which rather ironically isn't coping in the modern world), as time-stranded and amnesiac members of the team have been located in our time without any memory of why they are there but with some sort of purpose.

As I've said before, I like Meltzer's writing as long as he's working from a good plot, and this story is a well-structured narrative, allowing him to insert moments that highlight the qualities of the team members in a satisfactory manner. Johns' JSA chapters are different, lacking the same sharpness (he's not helped by the artists: Fernando Pasain and Dale Eaglesham provide rather stiff, DC house style work, which doesn't have the same gloss as Ed Benes or Shane Davis), although I did like the idea of the Batman as the nightmare of the Arkham Asylum inmates.

I enjoyed this story – the twists, the planning, the use of the characters in relation to their abilities, the splitting up of the teams, the reason for what the members of the LSH are doing – and it left a smile on my face and wanting to know what the LSH will do next. The sense of actual heroics, of teams working together, of nobility and sacrifice all come shining through in a well-told comic book story.

The final two chapters in this collection are not part of The Lightning Saga, which I don't understand – why are they included? Also, they seem to be in stark contrast to the rest of the trade. I found them quite self-indulgent – in one issue, drawn by Gene Ha, Red Arrow and Vixen are trapped for an entire issue (brave and experimental for mainstream superheroes, but perhaps not what the JLA is about), whereas the second issue, called 'Monitoring', is one of those 'day in the life' stories to permit some plot-point shuffling. Meltzer handles it with aplomb and includes some nice touches, but it feels rather light and insubstantial.

Also included in this collection is Justice League of America #0, which was great to see just for all the different artists contributing a page or two – Tony Harris, George Perez, JH Williams III, Ethan Van Sciver, Kevin Maguire, Jim Lee, Phil Jiminez – as Meltzer visits moments in JLA history through interplay between Bruce, Kal-El and Diana, even having a call-back to the notorious 'One punch' moment with Guy Gardner. It blatantly shows his undying and overwhelming love for the team and its history, creating a love letter and tribute issue to the object of his affection.

From A Library: GeNext

GeNext #1–5 by Chris Claremont and Patrick Scherberger

This mini-series is described as the project the readers demanded – a poll on Marvel.com to see what Claremont should write next resulted in this book: that if the Marvel universe aged in real time, making the X-Men in their 50s and the New Mutants in their 30s, and this is the new generation of mutants learning to be X-Men (supposedly set some years after the events of The X-Men: The End, although with some discrepancies between the two stories). Which is about the extent of the explanation you get: the story throws you into the middle of things and you have to go with it.

The book introduces us to Becka Munroe, Oliver Raven, Pavel Rasputin, Rico and No-Name, the latest students and Xavier Institute – but with no other background information. Thanks, Chris. It could be because nobody seemed to edit this book – there is an image of Henry 'The Beast' McCoy which bears the narration box 'Henry Pym'; good job, Marvel. Also, nobody seemed to curb Claremont's unusual and idiosyncratic verbal tics – a man using the word 'chica' to talk to a woman in a derogatory fashion; the same man uses the word 'meat' to talk about a boy he's beating up; teenagers talk as if they're adults in a stage play, when they're not using Claremontisms such as 'with good reason' or 'count your blessings' or 'from your mouth to God's ear, my friend' [who says that? Because it's used several times in the book], 'oh fearless leader').

The story is a rather traditional Claremont tale of young kids being spunky and fighting people way out of their league – the 'Dark X-Men' from another dimension (a Claremont invention when he returned to the X-books) appear as bad guys, making it all a bit too silly for plausibility. However, the characters themselves have something interesting about themselves – Claremont did have a knack for creating intriguing new characters when he set his mind to it – even if mystery is one of those interesting aspects.

The best part of the book is the art – Scherberger draws good teenagers: they are thing and angular and ungainly but also charming. His adults don't work quite as well be has a very good line, a really strong style (a bit like Humberto Ramos, but more focussed), and very good storytelling skills. I hope he has a good career ahead of him.

From A Library – X-Men: The End

X-Men: The End – Dreamers and Demons #1–6, X-Men: The End – Heroes and Martyrs #1–6, X-Men: The End – Men and X-Men #1–6 by Chris Claremont and Sean Chen

If there is a perfect example of my inexplicable control to read an X-Men comic written by Chris Claremont, then it is the fact that I read these three trade paperbacks. There is no other reason to read this book unless you grew up reading the Claremont Uncanny X-Men run, and know all the continuity and plots he created during that time, because you won't have a clue as to what is going on in these 18 issues otherwise.

Marvel's 'The End' stories are only supposed to be possible final tales for their franchise characters and teams. This means that the author can write whatever imaginary story, because it doesn't really matter. Claremont took this to heart, because he wrote a story that involves practically all the mutant characters that have existed due to his 17-year run, as well as the very specific villains he created for his idiosyncratic storylines.

What this means is that EVERYONE turns up in some form or other and lots of people die, mostly gratuitously. Claremont doesn't really show much discrimination: if you're interested, you should read the death toll at the Wikipedia entry, but know that people are bumped off left and right with very few getting a decent death scene or a reason for it. We get the Brood, the Shi'ar, Cassandra Nova, Starjammers, Sinister, New Mutants, X-Force, children of various couplings of different X-Men, Jean Grey and the bloody Phoenix (again, and the centre of the whole storyline). I would go into the actual plot, but it's really not worth it – this is more of a sci-fi epic than an actual X-Men story, no matter how Claremont frames the ending, with its '20 years into the future' after the actual events of the book. The story is very silly, there are lots of silly reveals (such as Sinister being Gambit's father), and lots of Claremontisms ('Sugah', 'Too late, meat') and excessive dialogue. Even for someone like me who is used to it, and used to like it when he read the issues again and again, it's really tough going with no reward.

The other person to feel sorry for is Sean Chen, who draws all 18 issues, having spent around two years on this book. He is a good artist, although he starts out rather stiff and a little unsure in the likenesses, and his work on the first six issues is not as good as his usual standard. However, he has found his footing by the second book of the trilogy and he's on top form by the final book, his art up there with his best stuff.

Even if you are a die-hard Claremont fan, you would need a morbid curiosity to read this book (a bit like me) and a strong determination to see it through to the final pages of the final issue, where the mumbo jumbo reaches cosmic levels of nonsense. It would seem that you can never go back ...

From A Library – JLA: The Tenth Circle

JLA #94–99 by John Byrne and Chris Claremont (writers), John Byrne and Jerry Ordway (art)

Continuing my reading of old Claremont books because I just can't quit him ... It was quite something when the news was announced that The Uncanny X-Men team of Claremont and Byrne was getting back together again, and for the Distinguished Competition as well. It was a shame that the two creators hadn't parted on the best of terms from their collaboration, and they spent a lot of their Marvel career sniping at each other's work in their books. That they managed to patch things up enough to work together again is quite an achievement. The resulting story isn't quite an achievement ...

This story feels like a Byrne-generated idea – magic being used against Superman, the enemy of the piece, both feel like something from Byrne's stable of plotlines. I don't see much of Claremont's traditional obsessions in these comics, which makes you wonder why he became involved in the book (unless it was just for the sake of creating buzz about the comic). It could also be the amount of DC work the two creators have: Byrne has a long history of DC books, whereas Claremont only has his creator-owned Sovereign Seven.

The main problem with this story is the villain, Crucifer: he is an incredibly embarrassing creation, who looks silly and has the most ridiculous name I've seen for a villain in quite some time. He is a vampire of sorts who wants to bring about a return to the world order where he and his kind were dominant; so he's basically evil for the sake of the story, which is a Byrne conceit (Claremont liked his villains to have a justification). He is not the sort of villain that is worthy of the JLA, and to spin a six-issue story out of him is optimistic in the extreme.

The story is well constructed, as you'd expect for two old pros, with the JLA and the Doom Patrol working together, although the young characters feel superfluous and even a bit irritating, but there is nothing great about it, nothing special or unique that suggests the heritage of the two creators. Claremont brings his dialogue to the book, making it seem almost Marvel-like, quite unlike DC dialogue, if that makes any sense. The art doesn't seem as sharp, a little muted; I've never been a big fan of Ordway's inks, especially on Byrne's pencils, and it feels rather staid and workman-like. In fact, the whole thing feels old-fashioned all round, which may work for some but feels like an artefact rather than something for the 21st century.

From A Library – House Of M: Uncanny X-Men

Uncanny X-Men #462–465 and Secrets of House of M by Chris Claremont, Alan Davis and Chris Bachalo

My comic book reading is inherently linked to the writing of Chris Claremont – my development in the world of mainstream superhero comic books is The Uncanny X-Men, The New Mutants, Excalibur, Classic X-Men; basically Claremont's output at the height of his powers. I still own more individual comic books written by Claremont than any other author. For this reason, even though I know he was never the same after he was edged out of the X-Men books by the pre-Image artists domination, I still have an inexplicable urge to read his superhero work.

This collection of comics is a four-part story of what Captain Britain (possibly one of my favourite characters) and Meggan got up to during the House of M, involving the alternate reality stuff from the Excalibur days. This allows for illogic – Psylocke (Captain Britain's sister) and Rachel (the alternate future daughter of Cyclops and Jean Grey) somehow survive the transition to the new reality; James Jasper (an Alan Moore-created Captain Britain villain usurped by Claremont) gets blended with the Fury, another alternate world villain from Moore's Captain Britain days; there's a throwback to an early Excalibur story about Captain Britain's then-girlfriend being killed and replaced by an other-dimensional tyrannical empress. Claremont does like using his own characters and using them in the same way, over and over again.

Claremont can't let go of certain tropes – he repeats dialogue ticks (which is actually rather annoying in a trade paperback, when their occurrences are more apparent); he tries to show women being strong by having them thinking tough and intelligent expositional thoughts; people make strange speeches when they are doing something noble and heroic. It's all rather silly and inconsequential, given the state of the crossover, although he does us it to put Meggan out of the picture – but that was standard Claremont when he wasn't doing his normal soap opera stories or sci-fi excursions into space.

The upside is that the art looks pretty – Davis is one of my favourite artists and draws fantastic superhero comic books, and he is the definite Captain Britain artist; he throws in some Excalibur-specific references from his old days on the book due to the alternate dimension stuff. Bachalo tones down his overly detailed and obscure aspect in order to draw some good superheroics, although he is a little slack sometimes, such as the last page that has a rather fat Captain Britain in the distance. However, the fancy pencils from both artists are not worthy of the material – Claremont's stories feel like a shadow of his former work, lacking the sparkle of his old days. Yet still I can't top reading them. Nostalgia, eh?

Notes On Comic Book Prices

Warren Ellis wrote a small item on his Whitechapel site about the price of comic books (after the observation that, for the first time, there are more $3.99 comics than $2.99 in the Diamond Top 300). He notes all his books at Avatar were $3.99 but now that is the norm, and that comics have to work harder to be owned. I understand what he's getting at: it is something that has influenced my decisions about buying comic books – I refuse to buy ongoing comic book series from the two big companies that cost $3.99 that are simply normal-sized issues; I only buy ongoing series at that price if they have extra material, such as 'second features' (e.g. the erstwhile The Incredible Hercules with the back-up Agents of Atlas strip, Detective Comics with The Question back-up strip). This means that I stopped buying New Avengers and switched to the trade paperbacks.

The $3.99 price (£2.90 in proper money) is too high – the only justification was if the book was from the independents, such as Avatar, because they don't have the capability to keep their costs down compared with the big companies. Bizarrely, other 'smaller' companies are able to keep prices down – I buy Buffy the Vampire Slayer from Dark Horse for $2.99, The Boys from Dynamite for the same price – so I'm not sure how that works. If people wonder why everyone is waiting for the trades, you don't have to think too hard to look for an answer (especially when the Amazon discount factor is added in). A satisfactory chunk of comics for a decent price, even if it's some time after the individual issues came out, is difficult to beat; why pay extra for adverts, a flimsy package and the fact that it's just come out?

I was thinking about it the other day as I was leafing through film magazines in the newsagent – I no longer buy them for a variety of reasons, but one of the reasons was the price. I couldn't justify spending over three pounds a month on a magazine, which is about one hundred pages (admittedly with adverts), a substantial package compared with a 32-page comic book that rarely tells a complete story in one issue. It suddenly hit me that I wasn't buying film magazines that are costing just a little more than comic books – what sort of world is that?

I don't have the answers for the economics of comic books, especially as we enter a digital age (yeah, because everyone can afford an iPhone or an iPad ...), and I certainly don't begrudge creators the money, but I don't want to pay the same price for a comic book as a magazine, and I can't see how the comic companies can justify it and sustain it. I know that I've cut down the number of books I buy as much as possible because of the price now, and I find it hard to try out new books because I can't afford them. As a fan of comic books, that saddens me; I want to be able to support the medium but I can't. And it's not going to get any better any time soon.

Blogging called off on account of headache

Is this cheating on my promise to myself of trying to blog every day? I really want to post something, but I've got a headache developing and I don't have anything pre-written as a back-up. So I'm writing a few paragraphs to explain why I'm not posting. That definitely sounds like cheating.

I hope you don't get headaches but, if you do, you'll understand the frustration of the unpleasantness. I used to get migraines until I cut out chocolate and caffeine from my diet, so in some respects I should be grateful that it's only a mild headache. However, the nagging sharpness in the front left of my skull doesn't really make me feel lucky.

The only thing I can really do when I have this level of headache is to keep my brain distracted with entertainment but without necessarily engaging with it because I can't really focus. Reading is a bit much, and writing anything requiring some thought is very difficult, hence no thoughts on comic books/films/televisions shows/books (I do put some thought into them, I promise). I thought I might do some linkblogging, but even that requires effort that I don't have this evening.

Therefore, I'm giving myself the night off. Time to recover and come back fresh. The internet is full of interesting, funny, smart, weird and novel content; I'm sure you'll find something to entertain you out there ...

Book: It's Only A Movie

It's Only A Movie: Reel Life Adventures of a Film Obsessive by Mark Kermode

From talking about films a lot, to talking about someone who talks about films a lot for a living.

In talking about podcasts I listen to, I haven't mentioned the podcast of Mark Kermode's film reviews on Simon Mayo's show. Kermode is a passionate film lover, particularly of the horror genre, but with a lack of awareness of other things in the world, such as sport or television or much in the way of pop culture; however, he makes up for it by dint of the fact that he's watched just about every film and has an opinion on all of them. I don't always agree with opinion, but he is intelligent and articulate and enthusiastic about film, which is something I can agree on.

This isn't about the film review programme; this is about his 'memoirs' – it's not really an autobiography, it's a version of his life as 'inspired by real events', as written and directed by him. His life is so intertwined with cinema that he finds it hard to distant reality from watching films, and the fact that his memory isn't so great.

As always with entertainment, I try to find a point of identification; here, it's the fact that Kermode (who is only a few years older than me) grew up in the same area of North London as I did – he talks about the same cinemas I went to in my teenage years. His love of film, his religious upbringing, his desire to see every movie – I can relate to him very easily. He gives an overview of his life – growing up and loving films, going to university and getting into writing about films and the start of his career of film reviewing on radio (something he's done for a while and is still doing, even though he also does film pieces on The Culture Show on BBC2) – as well as a couple of his famous stories, the main one being his trip to Russia on a set report that wasn't. But he doesn't really do much in the way of autobiographical detail, it's mostly about the films and the voice he uses on radio is pretty much the same voice he uses in the book, which is exactly what I wanted.

I really enjoyed this book – I wanted to hear more stories, more opinions about films, more interaction with the movie world, more stories about working in radio and television. I know that he might be an acquired taste, and I disagree with his view that The Exorcist is the greatest film of all time, but I admire his undiminished lust for film and his energy for sharing it, which comes across in the book.

For more Kermode: Mark Kermode has his own BBC video blog, there is YouTube channel collecting some of his film reviews, there is the site for the weekly podcast, his pieces for The Guardian/The Observer; there is even a Facebook fan page for his film reviews.

Notes On A Film: Avatar

Avatar was the last film I saw in the cinema in 2009; there is some symmetry in this because Avatar was supposed to take us into the new era of cinema with its immersive 3D technology, wowing audiences the world over and changing the way we interact with movies. This was wrong: the only thing that has changed is the way film studios see a way to make more money by charging extra for 3D, even with films that aren't filmed in 3D (such as Alice In Wonderland and Clash Of The Titans).

Avatar looks pretty spectacular, it has to be said – I was worried that we'd be watching an extended cut scene from a computer game. The scenes on Pandora, particularly with the Na'vi in their natural environment, are quite stunning to look at, although perhaps not for two and a half hours. However, I don't think that's to do with the 3D – it's just an impressive CGI realisation of an alien world, fully fleshed out by the years of development. The 3D doesn't help that.

What's impressive is how bloody long the film is – 150 minutes, which feels longer at times, full of people (or aliens) talking and talking in expository dialogue (as Mark Kermode puts it, people explaining the plot to each other). The storyline is so simple and straightforward, I'm amazed that James Cameron was able to string it out for so long. Every character is a one-dimensional plot component, every plot development is telegraphed, every aspect is explained and made so obvious – there is nothing left for the audience to do but sit there and supposedly be dazzled by the visuals, as if there was no room for any possible misunderstanding. I mean, Unobtanium? Come on. Really?

I still don't see why Sam Worthington is considered a big deal as an action hero – he's quite bland, even as a Na'vi – and the other actors who are not pixellated are not excelling themselves (although it was quite funny to see Sigourney Weaver's Na'vi avatar). The best acting comes from Zoe Saldana as the Na'vi love interest – she gives a great performance, powerful and believable, and in the made-up language.

The film is not without merit – the action is entertaining, as would be expected from Cameron; the alien world is fully realised, which is nice to see thought put into it; and it does look good – but the simplistic storyline, the length of the film, the stupidity of the ending (the native aliens and the creatures of the planet have seen off a small group of soldiers, oblivious to the fact that they'll send a full force to obliterate them) and the fact that you've had to watch it all with the silly glasses on mean that Avatar feels like a disappointment that will only be a cinematic footnote (and not just because it didn't win those Oscars up against The Hurt Locker).

Rating: VID

[See here for my film rating system]

Notes On A Film: Where The Wild Things Are

I know that it can be common for people to see the film without having read the book, but it is true for me in this case, of the well-known children's picture book. I am aware of it, and the visual style, but that's it; the film is effectively something entirely new.

Spike Jonze and Dave Eggers have created something unusual, as slightly unusual child Max (the wonderfully named Max Records) goes on a voyage and meets a group of monsters. The monsters are impressive – the animatronics (from the Jim Henson studios), over six foot tall, are both monstrous and enchanting (with a little help from some CGI for the mouths), really bringing the wild things to life.

The voices of the wild things are really impressive: Catherine O'Hara, Chris Cooper, Forest Whitaker and Lauren Ambrose sound perfect for the creatures, with voice work that feels appropriate for the world that Jonze creates. James Gandolfini is the main wild thing and, although he voices the character perfectly – his soft voice seeming child-like and gentle, but quick to turn to that powering rage of his – his nasal Jersey accent seems so out of place, it kept jarring me out of the film.

I think this is a film that both adults and children can enjoy on different levels, reflecting the wonder and energy of a child's imagination with the contemplation and maturing of the adult. I would call it a good film, but it didn't beguile as perhaps it might have if I had grown up loving the book; however, I enjoyed the world created with its soft and washed out colours and the hand-held camera work making it feel real.

Rating: VID

[See here for my film rating system]

Notes On A Film: Me And Orson Welles

Don't look at me that way – it isn't a Zac Efron film. Honest.

This film by Richard Linklater is an adaptation of a novel, set in 1937, which tells the story of a teenage boy (Efron) who wants to be an actor and ends up getting a part in Orson Welles' production of Julius Caesar at the Mercury Theatre, meaning we get to see the ins and outs of a theatre production and the life of Orson Welles.

This is a well-directed, well-written and well-acted film. Efron does a good enough job, but I don't believe him as the character he was supposed to be playing. The other actors in the film, mostly British, do a good job – Ben Chaplin, Eddie Marsan, Kelly Reilly, and Clare Danes as the production assistant with aspiration who gets in between Efron and Welles, but it is Christian McKay as Welles who is the star. He is simply amazing – he is Orson Welles. He inhabits the character and brings him to life, not an impersonation, and he's a joy to watch. You feel like you're watching a documentary when he's on screen, and you feel the passion and the charisma and the energy and mercurial nature. It's a truly great performance.

This is a really good film, and it's a shame that it stayed under the horizon because it is a charming film but also an exuberant look behind the scenes of putting on a play – the different types of actor (philandering, nervous, jaded, excited), the pressures of the producers, the buzz of the first night, but without excessive luvvie-ness or that fake feeling of 'let's put on a show', especially as this is based on real people. Well worth seeking out on DVD.

Rating: DAVE

[See here for my film rating system]

Notes On A Film: A Serious Man

I generally agree with the consensus of movie critics/reviewers when it comes to most movies – I tend not to have wildly different views, although there might be some wiggle room. However, I have to say that I disagreed with the general opinion when it comes to A Serious Man – I really, really, REALLY didn't like it.

I enjoy the films of the Coen brothers – I'm not one of those huge fans who love every one of their films (I didn't particularly like The Man Who Wasn't There, for example, and we don't talk about Intolerable Cruelty or The Ladykillers), but I could watch The Big Lebowski or O Brother, Where Art Thou? again and again. No Country For Old Men was great, and I was really happy that they got the Academy Award for Best Directors for it. But I don't believe it means that everything they do now qualifies as art.

After a bizarre beginning scene in a Polish shtetl with characters speaking in Yiddish, the film moves to Minneapolis in 1967 and Larry Gopnik, a Jewish college physics professor, who is an ordinary man but with life happening around him: he is up for tenure but the committee has been receiving defamatory letters about him; a student complains about his grade, then leaves a bribe, but refuses to acknowledge it as such, as does the student's father, who threatens to sue Larry if he either accepts it or denounces his son; his brother is living with them, seemingly because he's got nowhere else to go and seems to spend most of his time draining a cyst; his son has been using his name to buy records of the week from a club, and now owes a lot of money; and his wife has decided she wants a divorce (and a proper Jewish one) so she can remarry their neighbour, who is being annoyingly nice about it, and so Larry is the one who has to move out of his own house because it wouldn't look proper. It's made worse when the neighbour dies in a car accident and Larry has to end up paying for his funeral because the neighbour's will was in probate.

Basically, a whole lot of shit happens to Larry and he just takes it. He goes to ask the rabbi for advice, but gets fobbed up with other rabbis, who tell him completely meaningless stories that they think will help but don't. This stuff is relentless, a never-ending onslaught of crap that Larry allows to happen and does nothing about. I have read that it is supposed to be a modern take on the story of Job, but it just annoyed me to the point of nearly walking out – when Larry and the neighbour are driving in their cars, and you get the sense that something bad is going to happen, I was going to actually walk out if Larry and the neighbour crashed. I've never walked out of a film before, and I don't particularly want to start now, but I was seriously considering it, that's how irritated I was by the film. I understand that this is black comedy, and there is an element of taste to that, but I was just pissed off by it all. I could feel myself getting frustrated and angry, fidgeting in my seat, wishing for it to end.

The ending made it apparent that the Coens were having a laugh on us: Larry has just decided to accept the bribe (because of all the financial worries) and gets a phone call from the doctor's telling him to come in for the results of his test, which they can't discuss on the phone; his son is standing outside the school where he is getting extra Jewish lessons, the teacher unable to open the storm cellar as they watch a tornado coming closer and closer. And that's how it ends. How annoying does that sound to you? Because it still sounds annoying to me.

I can see that the Coens have written and directed a well-constructed film, and the cast act well (a largely unknown ensemble, with none of the usual Coen regulars). However, it doesn't compensate for a film that galled and vexed me to the point of distraction.

Rating: DA

[See here for my film rating system]

Notes On A Film: An Education

Here's the thing about An Education: it's not a remarkable film, or mould breaking, or anything novel, but it is simply really good. The sheer fact that a period coming of age film is well written, well acted and well directed is what makes this film so good and was responsible for all its award nominations.

Based on the memoir of British journalist Lynn Barber (no, I haven't heard of her), it tells the story of Jenny (Carey Mulligan) and her relationship with a charming older man, David (Peter Sarsgaard, doing a very good English accent). She is a good student in school, being primed to do her A-levels and go to Oxford university, but she is dazzled by his urbane sophistication, leading to a slight change in plans.

But the simple story doesn't reflect the quality of the film. The acting is all really good: Alfred Molina is great as Jenny's father, completely unaware of how insensitive he is towards his daughter as he gees her towards her place at Oxford but loving her all the same; Sarsgaard is good as the charming man with a secret, coming across as seductive but creepy; Rosamund Pike is delightful as the dim blonde girlfriend of David's 'business associate', playing against the normal casting of her as haughty or icy; and there are wonderful supporting turns from Olivia Williams as Jenny's concerned teacher and Emma Thompson as the headmistress of the school. Mulligan deserved the attention, the BAFTA award and the Oscar nomination for her performance, because she centres the whole film (especially as she is in nearly every scene) and draws the audience into the story. She must do a good job because she distracted me from the fact that she looks like an English Rachel Holmes, or at least does to me in the film.

The script is really good – Nick Hornby does a great job of understanding the time and place, with characters talking engaging dialogue that is also very funny, and making you care about all of the people in the film. Lone Scherfig brings a light but sure touch to the film, creating a believable suburban London of the 1960s, which I find more impressive because she's Danish. And the final delight I had in the film was a genuine feeling of surprise in the dark secret that David is hiding – I was misdirected by the dodgy dealings and the mention of Rachman, so for me to admit to being duped is an expression of how much I enjoyed the film.

The only sour note was the making David's character Jewish, and the use of the stereotyping of the time – yes, the bigotry towards Jews existed, but to make his seductive character Jewish and to link it with the duplicitous money-making schemes, such as stealing valuable items from old people's houses that they were trying to sell, or moving black families into flats he owned in nice areas so he could buy the houses of the offended neighbours on the cheap when they wanted to sell them quickly because they thought the neighbourhood was going downhill, left a bad taste in my mouth. It is the only imperfection in an otherwise charming, absorbing, life-affirming little movie.

Rating: DAVE

[See here for my film rating system]

Notes On A Film: The Men Who Stare At Goats

This film about psychic spies in the US Army, adapted from a book written by British journalist Jon Ronson, missed a trick that could have enhanced the viewing pleasure for the audience, if my experience of watching this film in a London cinema on a quite Tuesday evening is anything to go by. In the film, Ewan McGregor’s American journalist has chanced upon former ‘psychic spy’ (or ‘Jedi warrior’, as he refers to himself) Lyn Cassaday (George Clooney), and they have ended up being captured in the Iraqi desert. McGregor has been trying to find out more about Clooney’s psychic ability and now seems the appropriate time, so Clooney begins to tell him. As he does, the sound goes off for about 30 seconds and then the screen goes black. Brilliant, I thought – they’re trying to suggest that only the psychic can truly hear what Clooney is trying to tell them. Only it wasn’t – the film had just broken down at an amusingly timed point, and they just restarted the film from the point where the sound cut out, which is a shame because my interpretation is better, and it would have been a great joke that people would have been telling their friends about.

This film has its tongue firmly in its cheek as Clooney tells McGregor about the creator of the New Earth Army, the unit dedicated to unleashing superpowers in the US army: Bill Django, played to perfection (as always) by Jeff Bridges, who had a vision in the Vietnam war and then went on a quest to learn all he could about remote viewing, walking through walls, invisibility and cloud bursting, before coming back to teach it to soldiers who might be attuned to it. This is funny stuff, watching Bridges and Clooney playing off each other, with Kevin Spacey as Clooney’s nemesis in the unit because he wants to use the dark side of these powers.

The narrative of the film is a combination of a road movie with McGregor and Clooney, with flashbacks to the Bridges/Clooney/Spacey days, until the final act of the film where it gets perhaps a little too silly (involving spiking the water with LSD of a private research firm researching psychic phenomena in Iraq that is run by Spacey, who employs a now depressed and alcoholic Bridges, where McGregor and Clooney end up). It’s a little ramshackle but in an affectionate and charming manner, reminding me of an Ealing comedy more than anything else (which is a compliment).

The film is amusing (any movie that has a discussion about being a Jedi warrior and Jedi mind powers with Ewan McGregor’s character after his turn as Obi-Wan Kenobi has got to know it is being funny), and Clooney, Bridges and Spacey are great fun, but it is not a great film. A large part of this is due to the director, Grant Heslov (Clooney’s production partner and co-writer of Good Night, And Good Luck), who doesn’t seem to be in complete control of the story and the balance. Another aspect that occurred to me was McGregor and his performances in accents not his own: he is not as naturally charming when doing an American accent compared with his native voice. This conclusion was crystallised when I happened to catch The Island on television at about the same time; in it, McGregor is rather nondescript as the American-sounding hero of the film, but where he meets his original self, a Scottish speedboat designer (McGregor again, but with his own accent), the Scottish-sounding McGregor is much more fun, charming and interesting than the clone, allowing McGregor’s natural charisma to shine through (see Trainspotting or Shallow Grave for natural charisma). In The Men Who Stare At Goats, McGregor is our point-of-view character, but he doesn’t have the required charm that would make the journey more enjoyable.

Rating: VID

[See here for my film rating system]

Notes On A Film: Harry Brown

Even though I have an Unlimited card – for a small monthly fee, I can see any film that Cineworld shows, any time, any where – I still saw this film via a free preview screening. I have no idea why I did this. I do strange things some times.

I have to admit to not being the greatest fan of Michael Caine – he has been in some good films, but he has been in some stinkers that he did just for the money; he has been good in films, but I also think he’s been rather awful in some as well. However, I think that he has got better as he has got older, reaching an elder statesman status so that he doesn’t have to appear in crap any more. And he seems to have got funnier as he’s got older – he was great as Alfred in the Christopher Nolan Batman films, and he was hilarious in Miss Congeniality.

I think what drew me to this film was two factors: Caine was playing his age and it was set in south London. Although I’m a north Londoner by birth, I’m now happy to call ‘Sarf Lahndan’ my home and, even though I don’t live in the areas used in this film, I know them and their ilk. Caine plays the eponymous character, a former marine who lives on a grim south London estate; early in the film, he wife passes away after some time in hospital, and you see him as a lonely old man going about his life in a quiet way, his only friend being another pensioner, Leonard (David Bradley). The estate they live on is dominated by the Daily Mail nightmare ‘yoof’, all hoodies and violence, some of which they witness but can do nothing about. However, Leonard cannot take the abuse (such as burning dog faeces through his letter box) and stands up to the hooligans, only for him to be killed. This causes Caine to decide to do something about it.

The first two-thirds of the movie are absorbing and, in some sections, tense – the kitchen sink drama of pensioners on a south London estate giving way to Caine acquiring guns from a drug dealer (a great scene, with the great line, ‘You’ve failed to maintain your weapon’) and using his marine training to find out who killed Leonard. The director, Daniel Barber, has an unfussy style but it is meticulous and absorbing, and you are drawn into the story despite the underwritten police characters played by well-known actors (Emily Mortimer and Iain Glen).

However, the final act becomes far too much of an action film for the preceding sections, especially the cowboy-like finale. More importantly, the film seems to condone vigilantism – it seems to say that the uncontrollable young men on the estate are villains who deserve to die, and it has Caine kill people involved and Caine stays alive at the end of the film, even though policemen have died because of his actions, and without getting into trouble with the law. This is a very uncomfortable message, which seems at odds with the first two-thirds of the film, which seemed very much set in reality.

The film is not bad – Caine is very good as a pensioner who decides to use his military training in an illegal way – and it seems more than just a British answer to Clint Eastwood’s Gran Torino (both have similar themes and both play on the cinematic image of their leading men), but it stops being a good film when it decides to divert from its reality and into something else.

Rating: VID

[See here for my film rating system]

Notes On A Film: Jennifer’s Body

I’m not a big horror fan, so this was an unusual choice for me to see in the cinema. However, I really liked Juno, particularly for the strong voice of the screenwriter Diablo Cody being retained in the film – something that makes a film more individual, a stamp of authorship, certainly makes it stand out. I thought the combination of a female writer, a female director (Karyn Kusama, who previously directed Aeon Flux and Girlfight) and a script with fun dialogue would be interesting.

I was wrong.

The film didn’t feel particularly scary, something I would think is important in a horror story, and the dialogue didn’t have the same punch as Juno, with only a few lines managing to capture the voice of Cody. Also, I didn’t see any emphasis on the female empowerment that had been suggested by the creators, although that could be my fault. And, because I haven’t watched many horror films, I missed out on any references to previous horror classics (something that Mark Kermode enjoyed). An unsatisfying experience.

The two leads seem to work – Megan Fox is not bad as Jennifer, the high schooler who is possessed by a demon and must feed it flesh to survive, showing some indication of acting ability; Amanda Seyfried does a good job as the nerdy best friend (she's nerdy because she wears glasses, obviously) despite being very pretty – it was good to see her in a lead role after the enjoyable turn in Veronica Mars as the dead Lily Kane (and I must get round to talking about how much I loved the first season of that programme); interestingly, there is another Veronica Mars alumni in Kyle Gallner, who played Cassidy ‘Beaver’ Casablancas (well, it’s interesting to me).

Avoid this film unless you’re a horror film buff or if you simply must see Megan Fox kiss a girl.

Rating: DA

[See here for my film rating system]

Notes On A Film: Up

Back to films I saw last year (rather than last week), which means I jump from Kick-Ass to Up. And I’m glad to see that I’m talking about films I saw in November instead of September, which I initially thought, so there are fewer things to write than I thought and I won’t be posting nothing but film notes for the foreseeable future.

I saw Up in 3D in a crowded cinema on a Saturday afternoon, packed with kids and I couldn’t help but wonder what they thought of the first sublime ten minutes, with the montage of a relationship done so perfectly it brings a tear to the eye and a lump to the throat. But I should be used to this by now from Pixar, after Ratatouille and Wall-E made it clear that (to paraphrase the timeless heading about comic books in newspapers only now catching up) animation is not just for kids.

After the opening scene, the film has a more traditional route (well, kind of) where a quest is initiated and circumstance gets in the way, with comedy and adventure along the way, but it’s still an unusual combination of a cranky old man and a lonely but optimistic young boy and a dog with a device that means you can hear his thoughts. It is thoroughly absorbing, very funny (any film that can get not one but three laughs from the reaction to the word ‘Squirrel!’ is impressive) and exciting – which are bywords for what Pixar does on an almost routine basis.

As always, the animation is glorious but I didn’t get anything extra from the 3D – the story was the absorbing factor in the film, not the extra dimension. The only other slight problem I had was with the fact that the climactic scenes involve two very old men with creaky bones performing very energetic and sustained running around and jumping – was I the only one who thought they shouldn’t be able to do that if they were so old? It’s only a minor complaint, especially as it’s so entertaining, but I had to put it out there. Otherwise, Up is a moving and magical piece of cinema, deserving of its Best Animation Academy Award and its nomination for Best Film.

Rating: DAVE

[See here for my film rating system]

Notes On A Film: Kick-Ass

I had to write some thoughts on Kick-Ass the film because, for once, the UK release is a few weeks before the US release. This doesn't happen very often, especially for a (hoped-for) blockbuster. This warrants special attention.

Kick-Ass the film is entertainingly ludicrous, and ludicrously entertaining. The action is wonderfully over the top, Nicolas Cage does a hilarious Adam West impression when he is in the guise of Big Daddy (it's spot on; it's like he's been practising all his life – whenever he says anything with the voice, everyone was laughing, not because the content was funny but because of the voice), Chloe Moretz is brilliant as Hit Girl, it's full of fun pop culture references, Matthew Vaughan has done a great job on a small budget, and it makes for an enjoyable romp that you should go see in the cinema.

I don't think this is a perfect film, however. This is possibly to do with Mark Millar's huxterism; in the build-up to the release, he was talking about how it was so 'real', comparing it with the big blue willy of Watchmen. This film is not real: the idea – why hasn't somebody tried to be a superhero before? (conveniently ignoring the people in America who have already dressed up in spandex and acted as vigilantes) – is a genuine idea but the rest of the film after the result (i.e. he gets beaten up so badly he's almost dies) is as unreal as any comic book or film. An eleven-year-old girl who spins around like a dervish slicing off drug dealers' legs or running around shooting gangsters in the face is not real. It's really entertaining but it's not kitchen sink, is it? And don't get me started on the device that is used at the end of film for the heroic climax that is so far away from the concept of an ordinary teenager putting on a scuba suit and fight crime ...

There are other aspects of unreality in the film that make me notice them instead of ignoring them. The New York areas where our hero, Dave Lizewski (Aaron Johnson, doing a good American accent), wonders around seems like a film set, devoid of other people; the gangsters seem as if they only exist in a film, not real life, as does the penthouse apartment of the boss (does he own the whole building?); the girl who will become Lizewski's girlfriend was apparently dating a thirty-year-old drug dealer, who has ended up semi-stalking her (she's a teenage girl, remember); the fact that the identity of Kick-Ass is something that is on the news, nobody apparently bothers to track his address and identity via his MySpace site before Big Daddy and Hit Girl do; seeing Jason Flemying and Dexter Fletcher appearing as New York gangsters (seemingly because they were in Stardust, Matthew Vaughan's last film) throws me out of the action; and, for some reason, I can't believe in a comic book shop that is also a café/diner that allows people to read all the books before buying them and a huge television plays the news in the background ...

Still, the film is a lot of fun, with lots of laughs and pop culture references – the opening credits riffs on the Superman credits, a stand-off scene has Ennio Morricone music playing behind it, there is mention of John Woo (to let you know that the action scenes are homages and not plagiarism), seeing Hit Girl killing mofos is just plain hilarious (even though you feel you shouldn't be laughing so hard), and there are lots of call outs to various comic books (in fact, this film couldn't exist without other comic books and comic book movies in particular – Kick-Ass relies on these prior films to make its central point). Mark Strong, an actor who is always good, plays a New York Mafia boss well but also in a demented enough fashion that you can believe him when he starts having a punch-up with an eleven-year-old girl. The script is sharp and funny, even though there is a pop culture line that is so Mark Millar that I wouldn't be surprised if it wasn't in the comic book, where Kick-Ass thinks he's going to die and thinking, among other things, that he'll never know what will happen at the end of Lost (a line that will date this movie after a year, something that Millar always does in his comic books, such as the men that Betty Banner was dating in The Ultimates). But this is just me being overly picky and fussy, and to do with my problems with Millar; Kick-Ass is fun, exciting, entertaining and something different (if not quite the 'Pulp Fiction of comic book movies' as Millar suggested).

Rating: DAVE

[See here for my film rating system]

And like Him, I have risen again

I was doing so well.

There I was, posting something every day since the beginning of the year – a personal record for me; the entirety of January, February and March have a daily post of nonsense. And then last week happened.

I had originally thought I could play it as an April Fool's Day joke, having a completely blank post but with a title and a label, but I don't do jokes (as you may have guessed from reading this blog) and of course it's not very funny. So let me explain.

I was doing so well, writing several posts in advance for Monday through Wednesday because I knew I was going to be out three days in a row. I should point out that I never do this any more – I'm getting old and I obviously have no life because I write this blog, but I had a work function on Tuesday, going to see Kick-Ass on Wednesday, and a family function on Thursday. I was hoping to write my thoughts on Kick-Ass during Thursday, but work was a nightmare as people tried to get everything finished before the bank holiday weekend, so it didn't happen and I didn't have anything left in reserve. And I didn't post anything.

I needed a rest, and I'm glad I stopped for a moment because I was a bit tired. And I decided to stop for a few days, instead of just getting straight back on the horse. But I'm back now, just to say that I'm back. And make silly comparisons to Jesus Christ – why is it they talk about Him rising again on the third day? Monday would be the third day after He died; Sunday is the second day: He died on Friday, so the first day after that is Saturday. Am I the only one who sees this? It's Church's obsession with the number three, which seems counterintuitive when the whole point was monotheism – they bang on about one god and then split him into three? (Yes, I am a former Catholic, why do you ask?)

I shall try to return to my daily posting routine again, with a quick diversion for a topical review of Kick-Ass (because we got it here in the UK before the US, which makes a nice change), before getting back to talking about films I saw in the cinema last year because I have only got up to the end of August, whereas I've done my comic book purchases up to December. So expect a lot of film notes in the coming weeks.

Back to blogging.