Kevin Smith’s latest film, Red State, seems like a break out of the director’s comfort zone. While the director has tackled the idea of organised religion before (in the superb Dogma), his latest effort seems like something decidedly more serious. Being entirely honest, I’m always eager to see an established director attempt something that we’d never expect from them, and Smith’s cast (John Goodman, Melissa Leo and Kevin Pollack) is populated with enough skilled (and underrated) performers that it looks to be well worth a chance. If nothing else, the exploration of extremist religious groups in the United States always makes for a juicy viewing experience, even if Smith might not be going for a lot nuance. It looks like a mish-mash of a whole host of subgenres – from the hints at awkward teen comedy at the start to a sinister horror thriller through to an all-out action adventure. It seems like a lot for the director to handle, but the cocktail is intriguing enough to grab my attention.
We’ve been digital now for about five years. I have to admit, as much as I might have admired the scavenger sensibility that standard ten-channel Irish television might have taught me, I find it hard to imagine what it must have been like. It’s like the way I can’t imagine a world without easy-to-carry mobile phones, even though I lived in it for quite a while, or I can’t remember what the world was like without access to the information super-highway (though I do remember when we used to use dial-up internet… oh the pain). Digital television is a wonderful invention, and one that I truly treasure. It’s been heard so often that it’s become something of a truism to remark that we get 999 channels, but there’s never anything to watch… but I think that people who feel like that simply aren’t trying hard enough.
9 looks absolutely lovely, with a heavily stylised computer-generated style that seems intended to evoke the macabre stop-motion style of films like The Nightmare Before Christmas or Corpse Bride, along with more traditional and conventional animation. However, as magical as the production on the animated feature might be, the movie – somewhat ironically given the way things work out – lacks soul.
A special thanks to the guys over at movies.ie for sneaking us into an advanced preview screening.
Being charitable, Kill List is a complete mess of a film. It has a decent concept, and a solid middle section. However, these are surrounded by an incredibly boring opening half-hour and a monumentally stupid and non-sensical ending. It’s a shame, because one gets the sense that there’s a very clever, very entertaining movie to be found if one can dig deep enough, but it’s very hard to like a film that is so decidedly uneven and feels like an especially random video nasty.
With the Justice Society of America perhaps the most high-profile title excluded from DC’s upcoming relaunch, I thought I’d bid them farewell by taking a look at writer Geoff Johns’ second run on the title.
The Justice Society of America is one of those titles that DC does so well, one based on legacy. Admittedly Marvel has made some attempts in recent years (The Immortal Iron Fist stands out as a big example, as does Ed Brubaker’s Marvels Project – focusing on the World War II heroes adopted into Marvel’s pantheon), but DC have always handled the nostalgia so well. In fact, the relaunch of the Justice Society of America was prompted by the outstanding success of James Robinson’s original superhero generational saga, Starman. This collection represents the first set of arcs from the third volume – writer Geoff Johns was a veteran from the second volume, which (along with his writing on Flash) brought him to mainstream attention. So he knows the cast of characters and their world inside out.
I’m sure there must have been a good movie in there somewhere. The story of Wild Bill Hickok hunting down the wild white buffalo from his nightmares through the Old West could have been a compelling one, even if it’s hard to imagine it ever being a classic. Instead, the movie is hackneyed cheese-fest that seems uncertain what to do with itself. It doesn’t help that Charles Bronson, sleepwalking his way through the production, gives the best performance of the film. If that’s not a bad omen, I don’t know what is.
I have a confession to make. I am actually kinda looking forward to Ghost Rider: Spirit of Vengeance. The trailer looks like it could be either off-the-wall over-the-top brilliant, or mind-numbingly terrifying, but promises to be interesting either way. Still, the taint of the original Ghost Rider, perhaps the weakest comic book adaptation of the past decade (and there have been some weak adaptations), hangs around the title, and I can’t help but wonder if my dislike of the original film should somehow mute my anticipation for the sequel. After all, I’ve seen the concept fail on screen before, so why should I feel even a hint of excitement for a follow-up to a ridiculously crap film? Appropriately enough, with sequels, is it once burnt and twice shy?
Ronan from Swear I’m Not Paul (he’s not) sent on the final instalment in the Relentless Short Films competition, and I’ve enjoyed the other entries so far, so I thought I’d share this last video with you. It’s an interesting look at the world of crowd surfing, and you can see it below.
For more details of the Relentless Short Films competition, click here.
It feels like something of a backhanded compliment to describe Shaft as John Singleton’s best movie since Boyz n the Hood. Singleton has been one of those directors who has found himself living in the shadow a tremendously influential and successful debut, struggling to find a way to match or surpass it. I think that his take on the most famous blaxploitation hero of all time, while deeply flawed, works so well because it seems intentionally light. It’s not attempting to be big or epic, or even especially socially conscious, it’s just trying to be a decently entertaining – if slightly cheesy – little thriller.
Who's the cat who won't cop out when there's danger all about?
You know, just once I’d like to see a play about a functional American family living within their means and completely satisfied with their circumstances. Still, Sam Shepard’s Curse of the Starving Class is a fairly solid deconstruction of the American Dream, a play that was – when produced – a prescient condemnation of a society living well beyond their means. Indeed, there are more than a few uncomfortable laughs during the play that suggest it’s just as relevant today (especially when certain characters trumpet land as a solid investment which only increases in value). Curse of the Starving Class is a solid production from the Abbey that handles a well-respected play in competent manner, but isn’t necessarily exceptional.
