Film Reviews by Alphaville

A worthy addition to the John Wick universe. Unlike the Marvel Universe, this one’s for adults. With only a walk-on part for Keanu Reeves, it’s left to killing machine heroine Ana de Armas to fight her way through two hours of entertaining bedlam. Resourceful baddies, crunching fight sequences not ruined by jigsaw edits, a rousing electronic rock score and dynamic directing from Len Wiseman (perhaps his best film yet). No social realism, boring plot exposition, filler talkathons, woke nonsense etc. Great set of DVD Extras too. So why not five stars? The drawn-out flame-throwing climax, with a lacklustre cameo from Keano, is a disappointment. It may have looked original on paper, but it lacks the hand-to-hand gusto of earlier confrontations. Otherwise, Ballerina revels in the image and is pure cinema.

It opens with Florence Pugh complaining out loud as she decimates baddies. Ho-hum. No jeopardy, no tension, no thrills… Soon she asks, in what is either a mistake or a wry comment from the scriptwriter: What is the point of all this? Of course, the only answer is grabbing money from undemanding Marvel kiddies. How has film come to this? Will it never end?

Call Me By Your Name increasingly appears to have been one-off brilliant. Director Luca Guadagnino now seems drawn to horror. This mix of love story and cannibalism just doesn’t work. The love story is unconvincing and the silly graphic bloodshed is for die-hard horror fans only. Even for an interesting actor like Timothée Chalamet there are limits to a shallow character. As for bloodthirsty Mark Rylance, his mannered performance just grates.

Humourless pantomime about in-yer-face lesbians getting involved with gangsters. The characters are excruciating, the would-be jokey dialogue falls flat, the plot is skeletal. Even with a mere 74 minutes run-time, it’s depressing from start to finish. And if you think the film is bad, like, watch the extras, like, where the actresses, like, are even worse when talking about how wonderful they are.

Although directed with a strong hand by the reliable Martin Campbell, this is an odd concoction. Mixing gritty discussions about the Northern Ireland ‘troubles’ with Jackie Chan action scenes makes for uneasy viewing. The ageing and grim-faced Jackie (said to be 61 in the film) doesn’t convince and seems to belong to a different film. Still, Pierce Brosnan is riveting as an equally grim-faced ex-IRA man and the film remains oddly watchable.

Such a disappointment from the director of Slow West. It fails on all fronts, even the pointless title. The plot is minimal, the acting woefully wooden, the Scottish landscape drab, the meagre action boring. The introduction of a samurai puppet show feels like desperation. The pace is slowed even further by the static camera. Even with a run time of under 90 minutes it still seems far too long.

A well-written fast-paced action thriller black comedy romcom that works. Our hero’s inability to feel pain becomes his superpower as he chases after his abducted girlfriend, all the while losing traction through bullet wounds, stab wounds, torture… You’ll cringe as you laugh.

This film will always be known for the tragedy of its accidental film-set shooting but, if you can put that to one side, it’s a beautiful and engrossing piece of film-making. It’s basically a road movie on horseback as ex-outlaw Alec Baldwin and his young grandson are chased across the Wild West from state to state, not only by a good sheriff but also by a mean bounty hunter. There are some gritty gunfights, but action fanboys should look elsewhere. This is a Western grounded in character, place and time, with wonderful scenery and authentic dialogue. It’s up there with Unforgiven and Open Range. It’s a Western to wallow in.

A real disappointment from director Steven Soderbergh. Michael Fassbender has to discover which of his five fellow intelligence officers is a traitor. Good-enough premise, poor execution with ridiculous dialogue, theatrical acting and banal direction. It might work better in the theatre and it certainly sounds like a play, with the cast made to spout unrealistic dialogue at each other to reach the back row rather than talk to each other with any realism. None of it rings true. The long early scene of the six of them trading lines around a dinner table is so artificial that it’s difficult to take anything that follows seriously. In any case, the plot rambles and many scenes just tread water.

On an expedition to an icy planet, Mickey’s job is to be expendable for scientific purposes then ‘re-printed’ ready for the next job. Hence Mickey 17. But when Mickey 17 is presumed dead and Mickey 18 is printed, there are now two of them. What follows is an original and interesting concept set in a visually interesting environment. However, it falls far short of director Bong Joon-ho’s best (The Host). What could be fascinating is often ruined by over-acting, mugging to camera, dumbed-down slapstick and failing satire. Mark Ruffalo’s Trumpish leader especially is cringingly unwatchable. It’s also far too long with an underwhelming third act that seems never-ending. Still, it beats two-people-standing-in-a-room-talkies any day.

An overlong film that can’t make up its mind whether it’s a satire on the beauty industry or a horror film. As a satire, it’s very slow and mannered and naturally all the men are cartoon idiots. In any case, this all gets lost when the body-mangling horror takes over. There’s no denying it’s well done, but if you find it a pleasant watch there’s something wrong with you.

Messy hugely overlong not-very-interesting saga of a post-war Jewish immigrant making his way in the US. Slow-paced, long drawn-out scenes, a boring plot that takes ages to go anywhere. All this detracts from any emotional involvement and just irritates. Get in with it! After three hours, at last there’s an interesting scene… but it’s hardly worth the wait .

Familiar but engrossing robot-goes-bad horror trope. Not to everyone’s taste, but it’s well directed and keeps you watching. Might be more convincing if supposedly attractive robot Megan Fox wasn’t so horribly glammed up. It’s effective at what it does, with some unexpectedly moving scenes between our hero and his ailing wife, for whom Megan has been assigned to help, but the main problem is we’re just waiting for Megan to go bad.

It’s astonishing that such ancient theological rituals are still meaningful to many otherwise-sensible people, but if you can get past the flummery and silly costumes this is more a more engrossing film than might seem possible. The plot moves along nicely as the cardinals vie for the prize of becoming pope and the voting rounds add an almost-thriller component. Add to this enough Vatican architecture to give it visual variation, a jolting staccato soundtrack and a startling climax. All in all, an unexpectedly enthralling watch.

Lo-budget single-set 80-minute three-hander. Apart from the first and last minutes, the complete set is the interior of a small plane that contains a cop, a crime witness and a baddie. Mark Wahlberg as the baddie is an OTT pain. Touted as a suspense thriller, it’s undermined by supposedly wise-cracking dialogue that makes it all seem ridiculous and unbelievable. Cgi shots of the plane over Alaskan mountains do little to open the film up and the set-up soon runs out of steam. Given set restrictions, the plot simply has nowhere to go. Hence time-filling devices such as backstory character monologues and phone conversations with off-screen characters. You’ll soon give up caring.