Rampart tells the story of “Date Rape” Dave Brown (Woody Harrleson), a wiry corrupt cop in LA. Looking noticeably veiny, Harrleson reportedly lost 25lb for the role. Set during the fallout from the Rampart scandal in 1999, which was one of the most widespread cases of police misconduct in the history of the US with more than 70 police officers implicated, Dave Brown’s actions and methods are called into question. Not unjustly so, as after a driver crashes into his car he is filmed beating him mercilessly.

Shot in a grainy, handycam style, Harrleson is on fine form from the get go, bullying a female colleague and driving his car straight at a gang on the street. After a strong start though, the film rapidly loses steam, getting bogged down in showing him as corrupt but strangely never condemning him. It feels like an attempt to leave him as a potential ambiguous anti-hero, but the only real ground for such a claim would be his conviction. Yet, while this is steadfast to begin with, it does eventually begin to wane, leading to affecting and moving scenes, be it all too briefly. Largely though, the attempt at ambiguity leads to an overall lack of closure, and while this may be intentional, as co-scriptwriter, crime novelist James Ellroy has often remarked “Closure is bullshit”, it still leads to an end that feels unsatisfying.

Still, given what he has, Harrleson does what he can. His interactions with his his ex-wives (both of whom he lives with, and they happen to be sisters) and his children appear believably awkward and stilted, and yet despite all this he still manages to be a convincing womaniser, picking up women whenever the two he lives with refuse to sleep with him. He’s an immature child living in a world of his own creation, and thus it’s hard not to gain some enjoyment from his downfall. While briefly entertaining when he attempts to use his brain to talk his way out of trouble, the film as a whole is too downbeat to really get you on his side.

The main problem with “dirty cop” movies however, is there’s just so damn many of them. It’s a character stereotype that’s as old as “the girl next door” or the “lovable rogue”. In such a crowded field, Rampart needs to do more than average to stand out, and despite some valiant work from Harrleson, average is exactly where this film lies.

5/10

This Means War follows FDR (Chris Pine, Star Trek) and Tuck (Tom Hardy, Inception, Warrior), two CIA agents that find themselves at loggerheads after they both begin dating the same woman, Lauren (Reese Witherspoon, Legally Blonde, Walk the Line), while at the same time being pursued by Heinrich (Til Schweiger, Inglourious Basterds) a terrorist from a covert mission gone wrong.

If that all sounds remarkably simple, that’s because it is. Yet whether it’s a bad or good thing is still completely up in the air, as while we’re just told Heinrich is a bad guy and expected to believe it, it also means that the film can keep up a speedy pace without getting needlessly bogged down in details. In fact, when it tries to develop a more emotional and serious side the pace and writing seem to suffer, going from stylish and light to lumbering and heavy. Also, with the plot set up in such a way that there’s two “good guys” competing for the same prize, there’s no satisfying way to resolve both character’s plot strands without making one of them seem clearly superior to the other . There’s an attempt to create a happy ending but it appears somewhat tacked on as an afterthought.

There is a lot of good here though; those familiar with the American TV series Chuck that director McG worked on as an executive producer will find this particular blend of action, comedy and romance incredibly familiar. Pine and Hardy, trading insults like old friends, form a believable partnership, at times more so than either manages with Witherspoon. The transformation of Pine from playboy to husband material seems a little instantaneous, but in a film that’s only 90 minutes sacrifices must be made.

It’s interesting to note that throughout the advertising and marketing for This Means War there’s very little mention of the word romance, if not an out and out attempt to avoid it. It’s Marketing 101 of course, boys like explosions, not feelings, but this is still a rom-com, no matter how hard they try to act like they haven’t noticed. While much of the story is entertaining and amusing, it’s somewhat spoilt by a belated attempt to add depth needlessly and an unsatisfying conclusion.  

Understanding American youth (or at least, attempting to) seems to be an ever popular and fruitful inspiration for indie filmmakers, and Gus Van Sant’s indie flick Paranoid Park seems to be yet another examination of the disaffected, tracking the life of Alex before and after he causes the accidental death of a security guard.

Sharing many similarities Van Sant’s earlier and much lauded 2003 film Elephant, a cast of mainly unknowns and local skaters from Van Sant’s native Portland, Oregon stumble their way through a indolently paced tale. While some of the acting is exceptional from such inexperienced acting, particularly Gabe Nevins as the lead, Alex, others show their inexperience with stunted or wooden lines. It’s a shame because when it happens, it can knock the rhythm of an otherwise excellent scene off balance. 

Generally though, it’s an interesting piece set to an authentic soundtrack, well shot and for the most part, well acted. Momsen adds a touch more authenticity as the girlfriend, Jennifer but is woefully underused. All in all, the choice of film and lenses help contribute to it feeling like a skating documentary with a story attached, and this is no bad thing.

Going by cinemas alone, the end of awards season is rarely a clear cut line. Often, films that would appear to be clear contenders are released weeks later, while successful films can occasionally find themselves still showing and there’s always a simple looking action movie or two sneaking in between the tearjerkers and the pretentious. Safe House, it would appear, seeks to end that ambiguity.

This film doesn’t want to make you think, or leave you heartbroken. Rattling along a cocktail of adrenaline soaked action, it catapults you from car-chase to gunfight to brawl without breaking a sweat, leaving the plot, little that there is, dragging behind. Tobias Frost (Denzel Washington) is an ex-CIA agent that’s been missing for several years. When he finds himself pursued after a deal, he hands himself into the nearby US embassy and CIA custody, where he’s transferred to the nearby safehouse, maintained by Matt Weston (Ryan Reynolds), who then takes responsibility for Frost. Suffice to say they don’t just sit around telling stories and bonding. The plot has a childish simplicity which serves almost exclusively as a background on which to place yet more fist-fights shot by cocaine-addled shaky-cam. Despite the camerawork’s apparent developing drug addiction, the action here is still easy enough to follow and not destroyed by the rapid cuts that can often obscure what’s happening in similar films.

Washington delivers a calm and confident performance seeming charismatic as ever. Early on you see him tell the CIA agents they’ve got the wrong towels to waterboard him with, while in the observation room Reynolds is looking nervous and anxious. The concern of mine going in was that Reynolds would suffer in comparison to two-time Oscar winner Washington, but this seems to have been unfounded, if not largely because there isn’t really that much serious acting to compare the two in, with most scenes not involving explosions, guns or fistfights seeming to exist purely for you to catch your breath before the next one. Despite this, the two leads manage to maintain some form of rapport, bouncing off each other’s characters and also real life positions as teacher and student.

All in all, Safe House is the kind of film that feels like the cinematic equivalent of ice cream. It’s not the best thing you could have, nor the smartest. However, it’s perfect after the more meaty awards season, and its bloody good fun.

 Like Crazy follows two students Jacob (Anton Yelchin) and Anna (Felicity Jones) as they finish studying at university in America, and the difficulties they face when Anna is banned from the US for staying longer than the time allowed by her visa.

As a romantic lead, Felicity Jones finds herself on fairly familiar ground and as such it’s no surprise to see she largely excels in her role. It may be a somewhat generic role she’s been given to work with, but she acts with heart and sensitivity. Those more familiar with Anton Yelchin from films such as Star Trek or Terminator Salvation may not instantly see him as a romantic figure, but as an introspective thinker he performs admirably, but without the emasculated romanticism of many other such figures. He’s prone to romantic actions, but he’s also capable of ignoring the phone when Anna rings, one of many little things that seem to make him exist as a character in more dimensions than a typical leading man, or a “flawed character”. Both suffer from a slight case of university pretension and almost self professed genius, but in some ways this just helps make them more believable.

Jacob and Anna share an easy chemistry through mutual awkwardness, probably largely due to the fact much of their scenes are improvised. There’s a believability from their realistic performance, aided by simple direction. Within five minutes, I found myself in love with them. There’s a childishness that seems both infuriating and yet completely endearing. The happiness they share is so contagious, and such when things start to go wrong, you naturally empathise with them.

The problem that exists with this is it’s not like Anna wasn’t warned about the risks of her actions. While you can empathise with her pain, it’s a pain of her own making. As the film then moves on to deal with the many problems associated with long distance relationships, tackling them more seriously than recent lighter fare such as “Going The Distance”, it finds itself in predictable and well worn territory, attempting to add some dramatic gravitas.

Anna’s parents, Bernard & Jackie (Oliver Muirhead and Alex Kingston, respectively) bring some heart to proceedings, giving Anna support throughout, but like Sam (Jennifer Lawrence) Jacob’s secretary and Simon (Charlie Bewley), Anna’s neighbour, they’re all largely underused. This isn’t entirely a fault though, as the film finds itself struggling to keep the slightly more unique voice it has when Jacob and Anna aren’t sharing the screen.

While this is not a perfect film, there’s a lot to like here. As a couple, Jacob and Anna are largely lovable, and the way the film explores the compromises they must make to stay together seems both realistic and interesting, climaxing with a suitably ambiguous ending. While the pacing is occasionally off-putting, this film manages to defy a lot of convention to capture the essence of young romance.

7/10

2011 was a bit of a weird year for young actor-comedians. James Franco starred in Oscar-nominated 127 Hours and blockbuster Rise of the Planet of the Apes, Seth Rogan shocked everyone by starring in a cancer comedy that wasn’t just exploitative, and Jonah Hill turned his hand, not entirely unsuccessfully to more serious acting in baseball drama Moneyball. After taking a risk on Moneyball though, The Sitter looks to sit Hill firmly back in his comfort zone. While on suspension Noah Griffith (Hill) is coaxed into babysitting a neighbours kids so his mum can go on a hot date, hence becoming the titular Sitter of the title and making the phrase “hijinks ensue” both predictable and as redundant as a Russell Brand marriage councillor.

In it’s defence, this is a film that never claims to be anything besides simplistic, but besides that it does seem unsure of what exactly it wants to be. The attempts at comedy often seem uncomfortable with the children alongside for the ride; while under other circumstances it’d feel fine to laugh at Noah’s misfortune, now the fates of three largely innocent children are also tied in. Speaking of the children, they feel like they’re there mainly to add a sense of dramatic gravitas – a stereotypical spoilt girl, Blithe (Landry Bender) and two boys; one the generic adopted troublemaker Ricardo (Kevin Hernandez), the other an effeminate guy, Slater (Max Records) dealing with being gay. Shockingly, this is one of the few times the film actually seems entertaining, dealing with it with tact, without becoming overly sentimental or cloying.

However, watching this you can’t get the feeling you’ve seen it all before. Hill’s character is supposedly a nice guy deep down, and we’re supposed to root for him to get treated better than his current on-again, off again girlfriend Marissa (Ari Graynor) treats him, but they seem almost like mirror images. Both seem self absorbed, lazy and just using the other to get something, but because he looks like an underdog and says a few words of wisdom to the children, we’re supposed to root for Noah and boo Marissa. While Hill clearly has “the likeability factor”, this film stretches it until it snaps, with nearly everyone he meets seeming to view him as a lovable but misunderstood misanthrope despite the fact he’s actually neither lovable or all that misunderstood.

The clichés keep coming after this, as there’s even a typical impossibly attractive nerdy girl who was into him all along, Roxanne (Kylie Bunbury), and yet somehow this comes across as the most believable part of the movie. Not that believability was the way it should have gone necessarily, as Sam Rockwell as drug dealer Karl pays no attention to anything that’s come before and plays his own brand of crazed villain, not dissimilar from his role in Iron Man 2. Like Iron Man 2 however, you can’t help put feel that Rockwell’s potential gets a little wasted here, even if it was him who got most of the laughs out of me.

All in all, while The Sitter provided a few laughs, the characters are largely recycled or unsympathetic and there’s nothing much here that you won’t have already seen. This brand of crass comedy has been done before, and much better.

4/10

Setting itself up as the biopic to beat this awards season, J. Edgar follows the life of the titular J. Edgar Hoover (Leonardo Dicaprio), widely regarded as one of the most influential Americans of the 20^th Century. Starting (chronologically at least) with his beginnings in the Bureau of Investigation in his mid-twenties, it then progresses to his appointment as the first Director of the Federal Bureau of Investigation, a position he held until his death by heart attack on May 2^nd, 1972.

A controversial figure, Hoover is credited with building the FBI into the task-force it is today and instituting many of the technological advances of the time that we now view as standard, such as a centralized database of fingerprinting; in contrast he is critiqued for using blackmail to stay in power, exceeding the jurisdiction of the Bureau and collecting evidence using illegal methods. Rumours have long circulated that Hoover was homosexual, and this is touched on also, alongside the praise and criticism I’ve mentioned.

Issues are dealt with sensitively and without bias, and where there isn’t a definitive answer, the film doesn’t feel the need to create one. For the vast majority of the film, the nature of Hoover’s relationship with Clyde Tolson (Armie Hammer, in a career best) is left affectionate but still suitably ambiguous. After things come to head, with the much publicised kiss, again no attempt to label or clarify the issue is made. This sounds like a criticism, but it’s far from it; it’s refreshing to see human relationships dealt with without the broad brush-strokes they normally receive. His relationship with secretary and occasional confidant Helen Gandy (Naomi Watts) is treated similarly. While it’s clear there’s an initial attraction there, again other factors interfere.

It’s a shame that the film wasn’t longer as there are so many areas that could have benefited from more time, but it already clocks in at over two hours. Having so much story and details to tell within the time however makes the film seem more deliberate; the issues raised here are the key issues. Clever directing and a tightly focused script mean that rather than just lumbering through a history lesson, we get an attempt to pin down what defines a man. Unfortunately while the script may be tightly focused on it’s subject, the narrative suffers somewhat. Many supporting characters don’t get a chance to develop, and flashbacks within flashbacks might help understand the character, but make placing many events on a chronological line other than how they relate to the previous event tricky. To his credit, Eastwood senses this and gives earlier scenes a more washed out, monochrome look while using more colour in those scenes closest to the present day. This also works as a metaphor for Hoover’s life and career; as he builds the FBI into what he wants it to be, institutes the changes he wants and gains companionship, his life becomes more complete, compared to the lonely boy at the beginning who works in an office with ideas that go ignored. In contrast, when his mother (a woefully underused Judi Dench) dies, the colours again seem muted and dulled.

Shadows are also used cleverly – while their very presence can be seen as a reference to the nature of much of Hoover’s work, it’s somewhat telling that the only sex scene that takes place is observed through sound and shadows. This is a man who is much more used to listening to sex than participating in it, and displays the voyeuristic nature of his work. Even early on in his career he is seen having spent much of his time recording how others have spent theirs. It seems typical Eastwood to take something simple, and make it a little more unusual. Dicaprio manages to balance these many sides of the man, portraying the many complexities, going from repressed to proud to cantankerous within seconds, often within the same scene. Hammer has less of a range to work with but with what he has he shows he can act on the same level, keeping pace with three-time Oscar nominee Dicaprio, and deserves at least an Oscar nomination.

In short, wonderful performances and simple but polished direction manage to shine despite an occasionally limited and narratively confusing script. This attempts neither to condemn nor praise this controversial figure and thus may manage to alienate both bases, but at it’s core lies a solid movie executed well.

8/10

 While a dramatization of events at a bank during the recent financial crisis was inevitable, the post-Christmas timing feels a little cruel. However, featuring a cast so acclaimed you could probably base a drinking game around how many Oscars or Oscar-nominations they have, an awards season release was inevitable and sets Margin Call as a film which has a lot of potential to deliver.

Opening with mass unemployment, it’s not long after being introduced to Stanley Tucci’s risk assessment executive Eric Dale before he too is shown the door. From their use of specific language and cold indifference, it’s clear he is neither the first nor the last to go, but before he leaves he hands a flash drive with his current work on over to young employee Peter Sullivan (Zachary Quinto). While Seth Bregman (Penn Badgley) tries to convince him to go out, he stays in the office to work on Eric’s old project, and discovers something that ends up getting passed along a lengthy chain until eventually they get their boss to decide what to do, starting with Will Emerson (Paul Bettany), then Sam Rogers (Kevin Spacey), following on to Jared Cohen (Simon Baker) and eventually John Tuld (Jeremy Irons). It sounds like a recipe for a confusing mess of a film. Surprisingly, it’s Bettany, one of the few older men in this without an Oscar nod who ties the piece together. His character could be criticised of being a little too stereotypical of the reckless banker, but he manages to make himself a charismatic presence, balancing existing as a figure of admiration to the younger bankers while still keeping up a rapport with Spacey. It’s a shame the film is only an hour fifty, as while Spacey’s performance is no American Beauty, he manages to make his co-star shine in nearly all of his scenes, particularly when sparring with Irons’ indifferent CEO John Tuld, in contrast to a forgettable Demi Moore performance.

JC Chandor’s directing clearly displays a lot of faith in his cast, using a large amount of close-ups to catch every movement of their face. At times, the younger stars seem to struggle here, slightly less convincing than their senior co-stars, yet few actors their age could compare favourably to such Oscar winners. While Penn’s character Seth is not a million miles away from his normal bookish roles, the touch of a playboy side he gets to show makes for interesting and entertaining viewing. Often he successfully inserts a hint of a dry or dark sense of humour to his scenes that provides a touch of much needed levity when dealing with what could be dull subject matter. When things get tougher however, his calm façade is broken to show deeper emotion. In contrast, Quinto’s banker is a much more restrained, sensible and moral kind of fellow, suffering slightly from the limited range in which he’s given to work. While it’s one of the oldest tricks to pair two contrasting characters to allow them to bounce broader contrasting ideas off each other, it’s still used because it’s still effective. Their naivety however, can get a little grating, but it does help display their youth, albeit in a ham-fisted kind of manner.

On paper, Margin Call sounds like it should be a slow and sleep-inducing type of film, a cynical cash-in on a financial crisis or just designed to be Oscar-bait, but thanks to a reasonable length, an excellent cast and a tight script creates an entertaining thriller.

7/10

Remakes, love them or hate them, they sell. And while technically a prequel and not a remake, at times you wonder if the message got passed on to anyone on set. Chronicling the events leading up to the 1982 film of the same name, we get to see the titular Thing extracted from the Antarctica ice before, and I don’t think it’s a spoiler to say, chaos ensues. Bloody, messy chaos.

Mary Elizabeth Winstead is on familiar ground here, as when she tries to convince her crewmates that they are in trouble with a capital T, the indifference she’s met with until blood starts flying is all too similar to her role in Final Destination 3. However, she manages to pull of a fairly convincing scientist, even if the writing or dialogue doesn’t always help, occasionally making large jumps based on relatively little evidence. It’s also nice to see Norwegians on film being played by actual Norwegians, even if some seem there just to raise the body count and others just to ensure continuity with the original material.

The biggest surprise though is probably just how well continuity matches up, with so many subtle nods to the original material and several scenes seemingly lifted straight from it. Dialogue modernised, sets and effects polished up and then boxed off and sent to cinemas. If you remember much of the first film, you’ll find little new here to surprise you. Not unusual for a prequel, but the extent to which some elements are copied seems a little excessive. It’s like the same film, but with more exposition in the beginning, more modern special effects and less ambiguity, which to me was one of the best features of the original.

That’s not to say there’s nothing new here. There’s more beautiful cinematography, especially of the frequent flames shown throughout, more exposition on the discovery of the alien and as mentioned the effects have been shined up nice for the 21^st century. A scene around the spaceship we could have done without, but it was something new. The question is whether these updates were worth the lack of ambiguity in the original and the more defined characters, and I’d have to say no. So while this was an entertaining film and something a little different in a saccharine filled Christmas film season, it could have been so much more.

6/10

“How can you not be romantic about baseball?” asks Brad Pitt’s Billy Beane, and during Moneyball’s two hours, director Bennett Miller sure does his best to ensure the audience leaves feeling the same. Based on a literary account of a true story, Billy is the general manager of the Oakland A’s, and with the approaching departure of key players combined with not enough money to replenish his squad effectively, he is desperate for a different way of looking at the game so that he can still compete with the big teams on his limited budget. While visiting the Cleveland Indians, he happens to bump into Peter Brand (Jonah Hill, playing a supposed amalgamation of characters) who has recently graduated from Yale and has a new, statistics based approach to valuing players. The film then deals mainly with the conflict between tradition and this new method, and the success it does or does not entail.

The film has quite a documentary feel, with a subtle soundtrack heavily featuring radio broadcast or commentary and crowd noise, and the editing often allowing for longer takes between shots, helping to make you feel as if you really are behind the scenes at Oakland Athletic.

Jonah Hill is also a surprising dramatic presence, and while his role is still mainly light, any humour is not overplayed, he excels at his usual social awkwardness and his acting is a lot more restrained and subtle than expected. Him and Pitt fire off the traditional Sorkin dialogue with ease and it helps to build some chemistry between the two early on.

Most of all though, this film belongs to Brad Pitt, and while at times his character can seem a little one-dimensional, his frustration with his working conditions is almost palpable. The command he takes of the lesser characters is also clearly visible, having no time for nonsense or disrespect from the team coach, played by Philip Seymour Hoffman. This contrasts nicely with the dramatic release from the scenes he has with his daughter and adds a much needed extra something to the character of Beane, which unfortunately is where this film is lacking. To me, great sports movies get inside the minds and motivations of the protagonists. While I feel that there are similarities between this and something like Rocky, this felt more like watching a expensive and well made documentary than a Hollywood film. Maybe that was the intention, but it caused a disconnect that I didn’t feel with Rocky or another Sorkin-scripted true story, The Social Network. The result is a film that is without a doubt good, but came so close to being great.

7/10