Tuesday, 9 June 2015

"Dil Dhadakne Do" (Guardian 08/06/15)


Dil Dhadakne Do ***

Dir: Zoya Akhtar. With: Anil Kapoor, Shefali Shetty, Priyanka Chopra, Ranveer Singh. 170 mins. Cert: 12A

It must be Bollywood’s silly season. Last month’s Piku structured itself around the constipated Amitabh Bachchan’s inability to pass solids; now Dil Dhadakne Do, the latest crowdpleaser from writer-director Zoya Akhtar (Luck by Chance, Zindagi Na Milegi Dobara) sees the misadventures of a family of one-percenters narrated by a dog with Aamir Khan’s voice. Seeing as this family’s weighing up whether to sell off their private jet, we arguably need a closer point of identification; this humble pooch, balefully observing his masters’ follies, will for a while be the most sympathetic presence on screen.

We meet the Mehras as they embark upon a ten-day Bosphorus cruise, organised by industrialist patriarch Kamal (Anil Kapoor) to celebrate three decades of marriage to the meekly loyal Neelam (Shefali Shetty). The voyage is intended to foster a spirit of togetherness amid mounting business tensions – friends and family are all aboard – yet a split soon opens up between older and younger passengers, as pronounced as that between rich and poor on James Cameron’s Titanic. (Akhtar’s title – “Let the Heart Go On”, according to my schoolboy Hindi – may be a sly reference to that other blockbusting boat movie.)

Parental pressure has already been applied to daughter Ayesha (Priyanka Chopra), yet to conceive with her dour businessman hubby, but she’s keeping a secret: keener to pursue a career than raise a child, she’s been on the pill for several months. As for heir apparent Kabir (Ranveer Singh), a commercially beneficial union has been arranged with another clan’s daughter, but his eyes have alighted upon Farah (Anushka Sharma), a cabaret dancer who, by way of further provocation to Kamal, just so happens to be Muslim. As you may have intuited, we are sailing into choppy waters.

The question is whether this ship functions as a complex, multi-levelled metaphor for contemporary India or merely a big block of soap, trailing suds in its wake. For much of the first half, it seesaws uneasily: the drama sends you reaching for the Dramamine. Co-writing with her brother Farhan (who cameos as Ayesha’s ex), Akhtar evidently has certain hypocrisies on her radar. She regrets how, when boy meets girl, it often bestows honour on one family and shame on the other; through Kamal, she’s spoofing parents who retain altogether inflexible ideas of what a 21st century match might constitute.

Yet behind the idiosyncratic, canine’s-eye framing device, many early scenes prove interchangeable with the foursquare fodder passed to the starry ensembles of, say, The Family Stone or This Is Where I Leave You. This homogenisation hobbles the musical sequences, which – rather than the traditional eruptions of energy – feel self-conscious and cringing: a nightclub flapper pastiche, a rehearsal studio duet in which the music is assiduously and somewhat joylessly sourced. In these three-hour masala movies, there can be a lot more sauce than meat, and Akhtar’s leans towards the mild.

For all that, she pulls off something semi-miraculous in the second half, as – unlike her Hollywood predecessors – she makes us care about her characters. Possibly it’s significant that there’s a brother and sister behind the camera; either way, the film gains an extra emotional dimension as Ayesha and Kabir, unmoored from their usual surrounds, realise they’ve become prisoners of wealth and luxury, and strive – at potentially huge personal cost – to navigate safe passage. Chopra’s face could well launch a thousand ships; her lilting close-ups here, as Ayesha’s secret emerges, reveal the actress as an unusually sensitive and responsive beauty.

Singh, meanwhile, is busy making playboy Kabir’s smirks and sniggers unexpectedly winning: they seem positively revolutionary when set against his straight- or sad-faced elders, those of a young man tacking away from grim obligation and on towards happiness. As these two set to liberating themselves, the Akhtar siblings start to reconfigure the Bollywood family unit in a quietly progressive manner: here, family becomes a lifeboat – a soft landing in times of emergency – rather than a life-threatening lead weight. It takes some while for Dil Dhadakne Do to grab it, but that’s an idea to keep any modern multiplex entertainment afloat. 

Dil Dhadakne Do is now playing in cinemas nationwide.

Saturday, 6 June 2015

For what it's worth...



Top Ten Films at the UK Box Office   
for the weekend of May 29-31, 2015: 
 
 
1 (new) San Andreas (12A)
2 (1) Pitch Perfect 2 (12A) **
3 (2) Mad Max: Fury Road (15) ****
4 (3) Tomorrowland: A World Beyond (PG) ***
5 (5) Avengers: Age of Ultron (12A) **
6 (4) Poltergeist (15) ***
7 (new) Man Up (15)
8 (8) Home (U) **
9 (10) Two by Two (PG) ** 
10 (new) Danny Collins (15)   

(source: theguardian.com)
 

My top five:   
1. Electric Boogaloo: The Wild, Untold Story of Cannon Films
2. Spy
3. Sons of the Desert and County Hospital [above]
4. Second Coming
5. Black Coal Thin Ice


Top Ten DVD rentals:  
 
 
1 (1) Big Hero 6 (PG) ***
2 (new) Shaun the Sheep Movie (PG) ***
3 (2) Into the Woods (PG) **
4 (3) Interstellar (12) ** 
5 (4) Annie (PG)
6 (7) Testament of Youth (12) ****
7 (6) The Maze Runner (15)
8 (9) Pride (15) ***
9 (10) Tinker Bell and the Legend of the Never Beast (U) **
10 (8) Foxcatcher (15) ****
   
(source: lovefilm.com)
                                 
 
My top five:  
1. Whiplash
2. Inherent Vice
3. Jauja
4. Kajaki: the True Story
5. American Sniper


Top five films on terrestrial TV this week:   
1. The Man Who Knew Too Much (Saturday, BBC2, 11.25am)
2. Total Recall (Friday, ITV1, 11.10pm)
3. Blades of Glory (Sunday, BBC1, 11.15pm)
4. Carry on Screaming (Monday, ITV1, 11.40pm)
5. Get Him to the Greek (Sunday, C4, 12.40am)

"Gascoigne" (Guardian 05/06/15)


Gascoigne ***
Dir: Jane Preston. With: Paul Gascoigne, Gary Lineker, José Mourinho, Wayne Rooney. 90 mins. Cert: 15.

Jane Preston’s documentary tackles the week’s most extraordinary narrative – the life of Paul Gascoigne, as told in his own, sometimes faltering words – in naggingly cursory fashion: it plumps for fond tribute, when it might have yielded something more instructive. The first half rounds up the highlights: the singular on-pitch talent, the anecdotes featuring such priceless inquiries as “Can I borrow an ostrich?” Then the daftness shades into something else; viewed in retrospect, that night in Turin suggested tears – and recklessness – were never far away. Here, Preston backs off: there’s nowt on Sheryl, and the final moments barrel past Gascoigne’s recent troubles much as his younger self did opposition defenders. Still, it’s heartening to see those old crowdpleasing instincts return when discussing, say, that Vinnie Jones photo, or the fallout from the dentist’s chair – here, for the first time in years, Gazza is granted the time and space to express himself as only he could. 

Gascoigne screens in selected cinemas for one night only this Thursday.

"Insidious: Chapter 3" (Guardian 05/06/15)


Insidious: Chapter 3 ***
Dir: Leigh Whannell. With: Stefanie Scott, Lin Shaye, Dermot Mulroney, Angus Sampson. 97 mins. Cert: 15

With the Insidious canon, the writer-producer team of James Wan and Leigh Whannell are building another franchise along the lines of their time-bending Saw series. Having established an intriguing multiverse for Lin Shaye’s homebody psychic to investigate in 2013’s second instalment, this prequel makes an entirely decent fist of a story – about a bed-bound teenager (the bright, sympathetic Stefanie Scott) attracting demonic interest after reaching out to her late mother – which remains necessarily self-contained. Whannell, making his directorial debut, does a solid job in assembling the nuts and bolts of his own script, loyally bumping up Shaye’s screen time while fashioning some pleasing, suspenseful sequences tracking the demon’s heavy-tar footprints through the Scott household. The envelope remains resolutely unpushed, and the need to function as a multiplex scare machine precludes the emotionality of The Babadook, yet with its slowburn reveals and leftfield jolts, it’s been more carefully constructed than most series’ third chapters. 

Insidious: Chapter 3 is now playing in cinemas nationwide.

Friday, 5 June 2015

On DVD: "Kajaki: The True Story"


On September 6, 2006, members of the 3 Para Regiment assigned to guard the Kajaki dam in Helmand Province strayed into a minefield, with horrendous consequences. Using interviews with those who survived the day intact as a start point, the enterprising British dramatisation Kajaki: the True Story alights upon this one story, which may or may not stand for the entire Afghan campaign, and confers upon it an authenticity that absolutely justifies that subtitle: what we're watching looks very much as though it could be taking place in the same universe as the documentaries Restrepo and Battle Company: Korengal. Writer Tom Williams and director Paul Katis bring us in close to these guys, elaborating first the daily routines they undertake from their posting above the dam - in this harsh and unforgiving landscape, something of an ivory tower - and then sticking to their shoulders as they descend until we're positively quaking at the sight of boots on the ground; we soon grasp that every step forward could be the last one they take. 

Even before they realise they've taken a horribly wrong turn, the soldiers seem to sense how they've been dropped into the middle of nowhere, as part of one occupation among many, at the mercy of what was there before them. "This place is full of old shit," observes one. "Tanks, mines, mujahideen." (The implication is clear: if one of these doesn't do for the occupiers, one of the others will.) To describe what follows as ordeal cinema feels instinctively like an understatement: at the late-night public screening this viewer attended, there was a steady stream of walkouts, which may be a sign of how convincingly distressing the film is. (If nothing else, it's an extraordinary demonstration of make-up and prosthetics.) You go through this experience as these men did, and emerge at the end with your own form of PTSD. Still, while you're there, you do find yourself rooting for this cast of unknowns, who sock Williams' salty, grim, grouchy humour over, and really do appear to have bonded in the way you hope soldiers would, if your life depended upon them.

As it proves too risky for a medevac chopper to land adjacent to the minefield - the downdraft sets off more mines, and starts a rockfall - the second half becomes an exercise in problem-solving, a puzzle piece along the lines of a straight genre exercise like Cube: if you were the ranking officer, how would you move the casualties out without triggering whole new waves of carnage? (Answer: you take a moment, think, and tread extremely lightly.) In doing so, Kajaki gradually expands beyond its modest frame, and becomes a tribute to not just the fortitude, but the ingenuity of our men on the frontline - not to mention a pointed rebuke to the far showier (dare one say very American) machismo of the recent Fury. These characters look out for each other, while clinging to whatever they have left; and it's these little things - giving one another nicknames, even as they bleed out under a merciless sun - which will come to define them in the face of no obvious or easy exit strategy beyond death itself. I suspect most civilians' reactions will be broadly similar: rather them than me.

Kajaki: the True Story is available on DVD from Monday.

Thursday, 4 June 2015

Can we fix it?: "Tomorrowland: A World Beyond"


Tomorrowland has one of those openings that fair screams reshoots, or script problems, and which can only shake whatever faith we brought with us into the cinema. Here is George Clooney, as a character we've not been properly introduced to, bellowing down the camera lens about the problems of a world we as yet know nothing of. You can see the rationale, and the notes being handed down from executives to creatives: if you have got Clooney's name on the poster of your $190m movie, it behoves you to get him into its first reel so as to reassure the audience, even if his character has no real business being there. (Also: Clooney can just about shore up anything, right?)

The foundations are thus altogether shakily laid for what early scenes of stargazing and jetpack-riding announce as one of those keep-watching-the-skies sci-fi dramas, designed by its authors (Lost and Prometheus scribe Damon Lindelof, and the director Brad Bird) with an eye to getting us to look up at a moment when so many of us are busier scrolling through the bad news mounting on our Twitter feeds. As films derived from theme park attractions go, Tomorrowland is some way more ambitious - and, indeed, adventurous - than The Haunted Mansion or any of the Pirates of the Caribbeans, establishing a debate between optimism and pessimism, where those earlier films threw in their lot with rank commercial cynicism.

The trouble - which Bird looks to have been addressing with that opening - is that the representatives of this debate spend at least half the movie in entirely separate films. The first act introduces us to the younger version of Clooney's Frank Walker, a child of the post-war World's Fair generation - the maths don't entirely add up - who, with the years, grows convinced that everything of promise on this Earth has long gone, and eventually resigns himself to cranky solitude. Belatedly, we meet Casey (Britt Robertson), latter-day teenager and repository of wonder, curiosity and positivity - the kind of can-do teen whose response, upon hearing grim tidings from her elders, is a bright "Can we fix it?"

That's an interesting question for any film to raise, although you might wonder - as I did - whether a summer event movie, where money is no object, is the most rigorous forum in which to raise it. $190m gets you plenty of visual invention, it's true, and that may be enough to zoom some viewers past Tomorrowland's flaws of narrative and rhetoric. Once Casey is granted access to the futureworld of the title, the screen fills with towers and maglevs; late on, a Jules Verne rocketship is seen blasting out of the centre of the Eiffel Tower. Some of this is genuine good fun: Casey winds up in a shootout with Kathryn Hahn and Keegan-Michael Key as the robotic proprietors of a memorabilia store, and has to make her escape amid flying R2D2s and Gorts.

Bird's background in animation shows through in the cartoonish ways he finds for Casey and chums to see off their metallic pursuers - hitting them with a tuning fork or thwacking them with baseball bats, having them cubed by cheesewire laserbeams. The memorabilia store scene is doubly significant in identifying Bird's film as the work of SF scholars: baby boomers raised on not just Star Wars, but Things to Come and The Day The Earth Stood Still, and who therefore have no problem halting their pyrotechnics in order to air some pointed social commentary.

If nothing else, Tomorrowland might usefully stand as a lesson in just how difficult it must be, even for a name director, to merge a crowdpleaser with a thinkpiece in the modern movie marketplace. It can be done, of course: Bird's own The Incredibles was, among other things, an animated treatise on why society is so keen to settle for mediocrity. Yet that film came out of Pixar's imperial phase, when the company had confidence enough to reject all notes from higher up, and forge ahead on their own instincts. Tomorrowland, by contrast, is the product of an increasingly dysfunctional studio system that insists you can't cast Clooney in a $190m summer movie and have him sit around on the sidelines in a second-banana part.

It was a gamble on Bird's part to cast this ever-clubbable actor as a shut-in, but you can see why nobody's thought to do it before. Even when Frank's at his crankiest, Clooney appears this close to buying the crew a round and taking his young co-stars to play mini-golf; for the character's redemption to be anything like as affecting as the film hopes, it would have required a more lived-in, perhaps less starry performer, one far more persuasive in his hopelessness. Tomorrowland truly, sincerely wants us to believe - in the way many of the best Disney movies do - but Bird's trademark dynamism can only get us up and over so many of the bumps and knots in his own storytelling. Here's a thought this lavish folly cannot countenance: what if committee thinking is the thing that's been holding us back?

Tomorrowland is now playing in cinemas nationwide.

Friday, 29 May 2015

For what it's worth...



Top Ten Films at the UK Box Office   
for the weekend of May 22-24, 2015: 
 
 
1 (1) Pitch Perfect 2 (12A) **
2 (2) Mad Max: Fury Road (15) ****
3 (new) Tomorrowland (PG) ***
4 (new) Poltergeist (15) ***
5 (3) Avengers: Age of Ultron (12A) **
6 (4) Spooks: The Greater Good (15)
7 (5) Far From the Madding Crowd (12A) ***
8 (7) Home (U) **
9 (new) Tanu Weds Manu Returns (12A)
10 (re) Two by Two (PG) ** 

(source: theguardian.com)
 

My top five:   
1. Spring
2. The New Girlfriend
3. Mad Max: Fury Road
4. The Tribe
5. Clouds of Sils Maria


Top Ten DVD rentals:  
 
 
1 (new) Big Hero 6 (PG) ***
2 (1) Into the Woods (PG) **
3 (new) Interstellar (12) ** 
4 (new) Annie (PG)
5 (2) Gone Girl (18) **
6 (3) The Maze Runner (15)
7 (new) Testament of Youth (12) ****
8 (6) Foxcatcher (15) ****
9 (4) Pride (15) ***
10 (5) Tinker Bell and the Legend of the Never Beast (U) **

(source: lovefilm.com)
                                 
 
My top five:  
1. Home from Home: Chronicle of a Vision
2. Whiplash
3. Spring
4. Testament of Youth
5. Foxcatcher


Top five films on terrestrial TV this week:   
1. Rear Window [above] (Saturday, BBC2, 3.10pm)
2. Comfort and Joy (Saturday, BBC2, 1.20am)
3. The X-Files: I Want to Believe (Saturday, C4, 10.55pm)
4. Pride & Prejudice (Saturday, C4, 4.15pm)
5. Shutter Island (Sunday, C4, 9pm)