Review: Fringe – Season 3 (15) / Created by: JJ Abrams, Alex Kurtzman, Robert Orci / Starring: Anna Torv, Joshua Jackson, Lance Reddick / Release Date: Out Now

It feels as though producer JJ Abrams other science fiction show, Fringe, has never crossed over to mainstream success the way Lost did. It’s probably more to do with the fact that unlike Lost, Fringe never got its start on terrestrial television and made its UK debut in a ten o clock slot on Sky One. As such it has a smaller dedicated audience who will tell anyone who will listen that it is currently the best sci-fi show on TV. Based on much of season three it’s very hard to argue with these claims.

If you don’t know the story by now, Fringe follows the exploits of FBI Fringe division comprised of Olivia Dunham (Anna Torv), Civilian consultant Peter Bishop (Joshua Jackson) and his slightly brain damaged but genius father Walter (John Noble). Fringe division is assigned to investigate ‘The Pattern’, a series of strange occurrences which seem to be caused by otherworldly technology and fringe science. They are aided or hindered by a company called Massive Dynamic and its shady CEO Nina Sharp.

By the time we get to season three, there is a central mythology and conspiracy plot that has almost reached crescendo. It seems that there is an alternate world much like our own which has been plagued by disruptions to the very fabric of reality due to Walter Bishop’s actions years before when he opened a bridge between the two worlds. The inhabitants of the other world, lead by Walter’s doppelganger (or Walternate as he becomes known) who is secretary of state there and driven by revenge, have been making incursions into our world with the use of super soldiers who can change their appearance. At the end of season two, Olivia Dunham had been replaced in our world with her doppelganger and the Olivia we know and love was trapped in the other world.

For a great deal of season one and two of Fringe, it threatened to go into Lost or X-Files territory with its mythology. It seemed like they could be making it up as they went along with the plot getting more and more convoluted and no real answers given. Patience pays off however because about ten episodes into season three all of these concerns have melted away and most things in Fringe make total sense. Apart from the origin and purpose of ‘The Observers’ which remains a fantastic mystery that I’m not sure I want answers to. The plot picks up with the ramifications of the end of season two being felt badly, Peter is still bitter and angry at Walter after discovering he is in fact a kidnapped child from the other world but at the same time he is elated by the development of his relationship with Olivia, or so he thinks. Peter becomes more and more concerned about the discovery of the doomsday device which he seems destined to activate. The fake Olivia or Faux Olivia as she is known, wastes no time worming her way into the affections of the Bishop’s and although she is different in subtle ways, The Bishop’s do not seem to cotton on. In the other world meanwhile, our Olivia has been brainwashed into thinking that she is a permanent resident and sets about taking up her role with the FBI Fringe Division over there. Part of the fun of this set up is that the other world is further explored and its differences are revealed through tiny details as the plot unfolds, things like a picture of JFK as an old man and the Green Lantern being known as the Red Lantern over there. The writers made the smart and brave decision of setting every other episode in the alternate reality (indicated through the colours in the main credits) where the other world Fringe task force are no longer the faceless invaders but become characters that you get to know and care about equally. It’s a major shift in format for a show that has not yet crossed over into the public consciousness but really pays off as the first half of season three is amongst the best television I have seen.

The main trio of actors really run with the ball as well, John Noble is fantastic as Walter Bishop constantly revealing hidden depths through his flashback episodes or his exchanges with Peter. As Alternate, Noble does just as well playing a character you should hate but can’t because everything he does is driven through heartbreak or the desire to save his world. Joshua Jackson is not an actor I have enjoyed previously but he keeps getting better and better in Fringe. The Peter Bishop character is now far from the former conman he was and is now likeable and just as driven as the rest of the team. Anna Torv started the show in season one as a bit of wooden eye candy but really hits her stride in season three playing two different versions of the same character. It’s brilliant to watch because our Olivia is sullen and withdrawn whilst being dedicated and faux Olivia is cocky and bubby with a bit of a sinister streak to her. Torv does most of the heavy lifting in her role and its good to see her open up the character and the relationship with Peter deepen.

Apart from the ongoing and fascinating mythology you also get some great little stories that the show has become known for. Things like men who have a power over probability and become assassins, or weapons that make peoples bones disintegrate. The key strength is that the mythology never feels tacked on or not part of the main thrust of the show and blends in brilliantly with the weekly ‘strange event of the week’ format. Sadly Fringe can’t keep the brilliance up for the whole season and lets itself down at about episode 16 with a contrived body swap storyline (two words: Soul Magnets) that ends in a badly animated Inception rip off. Luckily it recovers from this arc and leaps back into the central story with ease and the stakes get raised to apocalyptic proportions. The ending changes the direction and format of the show yet again and I can’t wait to see how they pull this off in season four which has foolishly been consigned to the Friday night death slot in the states.

It’s rare to see something that puts the Science back in the Science-Fiction, so if you are not watching Fringe yet then you are missing out on one of the best shows around. If you pick it up, stick with it through season one and just enjoy it because by the time you get to season three it will be one of those shows you can’t stop watching and will have taken over your life. And yes, it’s better than Lost…

Extras: Episode 19 Animated making of, Deleted Scenes, Episode Commentaries, Duality of Worlds Featurette, Unconscious Manipulation Featurette, Gag Reel.

 

Review: Panic Button (18) / Directed by: Chris Crow / Screenplay by: Frazer Lee, John Shackleton, David Shillitoe, Chris Crow / Starring: Scarlett Alice Johnston, Jack Gordon, Michael Jibson, Ellen Rhys, Joshua Chambers

Our (ie your) dubious modern obsessions with social networking and reality TV collide with surprisingly-successful results in ‘Panic Button’, a diverting and original new low budget British horror thriller (filmed in sunny Cardiff, fright fans!) which, with its predominantly one-room setting and tiny cast, creates a stiflingly claustrophobic sense of mounting dread and unease which it only manages to lose when the plot contrivances become a little bit too unlikely and the story resolution a little bit too absurd. 

Four brash young people – mouthy Dave (Jibson), jack-the-lad Max (Gordon), Welsh hippy chick Gwen (Rhys) and single mum Jo (Johnson) – win an online competition on social network site Fac…sorry, All2gethr.com and find themselves boarding a luxury private jet heading out on an all-expenses paid trip of a lifetime to New York. The disembodied voice of their host (appearing on onboard TV screens as an animated alligator) tells them they’ll be passing their time during the flight playing online prize-winning games. But almost immediately the games become uncomfortable when a series of personal questions reveal some truths about the foursome they might have preferred to keep secret. The group quickly decide they don’t want to play any more but the ‘Alligator’ coolly informs them that refusing to co-operate will lead to unfortunate forfeits amongst their online community of friends. Desperation sets in as, 30,000 feet in the air and with no means of escape and no method of reaching the pilot, the group are called into the movie’s own version of ‘Big Brother’s diary room (it’s the plane’s toilet) and given tasks which they must perform if they don’t want to see their family and friends – all shown on the plane’s TV screens as being imprisoned and tortured by off-screen thugs – killed in cold blood.

‘Panic Button’ presses all the right buttons from the off as Jo sets out on her weekend jaunt, leaving her daughter Sophie in the care of her mother. No sooner has Jo driven off in a taxi than her mother is brutally attacked in her own home… Before long we’re at the airport and Jo meets up with her fellow prize-winners, a motley bunch at once slightly-irritating (Dave) and engaging and quite likeable (Gwen and Max). But once we’re aboard the plane itself and the group, captivated by their luxurious (if cramped) environment, settles down for some in-flight entertainment, the mood quickly becomes edgy and unsettling. Not only do our heroes have no idea what’s happening and why they’re being subjected to this subtle, slow-burn torture, neither do we; we’re with them on that plane as ‘Alligator’ holds all the cards and gives out all the orders and it’s not long (in fact, it’s probably really too soon but hey, the movie’s only got ninety minutes to play with) before the foursome are turning on one another as the true nature of their predicament slowly sinks in.

The first hour of ‘Panic Button’ is gripping, fascinating stuff, an intriguing depiction of the human condition collapsing under extreme circumstances. But the film’s downfall is in its need to explain exactly what’s going on and why and, in its haste to wag a disapproving finger at social networking culture, it throws logic and much of its believability out of the porthole and teeters perilously close to becoming a routine mad psycho slasher. Without giving away too much – because ’Panic Button’ is worth a look despite its failings – it does seem a bit of a stretch that Alligator would have singled out these four souls for his special treatment out of the millions out there in cyberspace who have given him reasonable cause to be a bit cheesed off, even if he’s gone to a bit of an elaborate extreme to exact his revenge. The whole subplot about “Max” and his real identity doesn’t really add much to the drama and the motivations and moods of the characters do tend to drift a bit to keep up with the need to hurry the story along.

But ‘Panic Button’, flaws and all, is a commendable effort, a cut above many of the cheap’n’cheerless straight-to-DVD titles we work so hard to warn you about here at Starburst. Well-written, well-acted by its unknown cast and directed with a real flair for tension and heightened drama by Chris Crow in what must have been the most frustratingly-confined circumstances, it’s a brisk and intelligent little psychological horror story and it might even cause a few of us (ie you) to think twice about posting every little trivial detail about our (ie your) lives out onto t’internet for the dubious delectationt of millions upon millions of people we’ve never ever met and will never ever know. Just a thought… 

Special features: Decent 22 minute ‘making of’, out-takes (he swore, ha ha), deleted scenes, trailers.

‘Panic Button’ is out now on DVD in the UK

Review: Rare Exports – A Christmas Tale (15)/ Directed and written by: Jalmari Helander/ Starring: Onni Tommila, Jorma Tommila, Tommi Korpela, Raunu Juvonen

Well, it’s not everyday you get to watch a film which ends with a young Finnish boy hanging off a helicopter and leading 180 furious naked old men wielding axes across the snow towards an empty reindeer enclosure. Yep, that’s a new one even here at Starburst Towers…

This, you’ll hopefully be relieved to hear, is not some outlandish and unlikely late night porn movie but rather ‘Rare Exports: A Christmas Tale’ a charming, entirely insane, quirky little foreign language (gasp!) movie which enjoyed the briefest of theatrical runs last December (no!) and arrives now on DVD in the UK where it’ll scare the living bejeebers out of any unsuspecting kids who chances upon it but may well delight and amuse adults who prefer their Christmas entertainment with a little edge and a lot of bleak black humour. ‘Rare Exports’ is the low budget Christmas movie Tim Burton will never make, combining elements of ‘The Thing’ and  ‘E.T’ (and even, coincidentally, the flavour of this year’s ‘Super 8’) to create something wonderfully left-of-centre and not quite right, a film which manages to deconstruct Christmas like no movie since ‘Bad Santa’ whilst simultaneously being a joyous and almost life-affirming evocation of the core values of the festive season. It’s all very odd. 

‘Rare Exports’ actually has its roots in two internet short movies from the same director and this film is very much a prequel to those efforts. It’s December in Lapland (where else?) and it’s snowing. An excavation team dig up something large and horned from the ice – is this the real-life Santa, a child-devouring beast of a man, or is it something else altogether? In the neighbouring village (little more than a few draughty shacks) strange things start to happen; reindeer are slaughtered, radiators are stolen from the houses and, most disturbingly, local children are snatched and replaced by woven dolls. Chilly local lad Pietari (Onni Tommita) and his father, a reindeer hunter (honestly) come into possession of the frozen creature, a withered old man whom they first assume is dead. But he’s actually far from dead and, as it turns out, he’s far from alone. As Pietari’s father and his friend try to sell the old man (whom they take to be the real Santa) to the leader of the excavation corporation (“What a midget!”), they’re attacked by a very unusual, very specific and very angry army. Santa’s helpful (and elderly) elves are on the march; one of their number has been captured, Santa’s frozen in a block of ice and it looks like it’s going to be a very strange Christmas indeed in Lapland.

Yep, you got it right; ‘Rare Exports’ is barking mad and yet that’s what makes it so enchanting and so damned different. In some ways Helander’s movie absolutely takes its cues from the crème of Hollywood – there’s more than a little Spielberg and Joe Dante running through this one’s celluloid veins – but it’s also got a distinct European vibe about it with its silent, crunching snowy locations and its cast of characters all wrapped up against the winter chill and living in what appear to be barely subsistence level conditions. Against these odds it’s a warm and embracing film, playing up to old, largely-forgotten Finnish folk tales which depicted Santa Claus as a ghoulish night-prowler who, far from rewarding kids with Xboxes and Wiis (I’m up with the kids), crept about and punished them for being naughty, not nice. ‘Rare Exports’, with its startling imagery of dozens of naked geriatrics raging through the snow, also answers the age-old question of just how Santa manages to visit every child in the world in the space of just one night…

‘Rare Exports’ won’t be to everyone’s tastes but it was certainly to mine. Across its brief, seventy-odd minute running time, it manages to be nightmarish, grotesque, funny, surprising and ultimately really rather magical. As a Christmas movie it’s  like nothing you’ll have seen before and it’s absolutely the perfect antidote to the saccharine sweetness of modern perennial festive faves like ‘Shrek the Halls.’ If you’re looking for something wild and off-the-wall and yet with a heart of gold lurking in its darkness, or if you just fancy something not churned out by Hollywood’s fantasy factory, ‘Rare Exports’ is very highly recommended. Drop a line to Santa right now and put it at the top of your Christmas list…

Special features: Piisakkaa (that’s Finnish for ‘absolutely nothing’….do keep up!)

 

‘Rare Exports: A Christmas Tale’ is out on DVD in the UK now

Review: Mimic – Director’s Cut / Directed by: Guillermo Del Toro / Written by: Matthew Robbins, Guillermo Del Toro, Donald A. Wollheim / Starring: Mira Sorvino, Jeremy Northam, Charles S. Dutton, Josh Brolin 

Mimic is something of an anomaly in Guillermo Del Toro’s otherwise stellar career thus far. Originally conceived as an epic Man vs. giant bugs film with serious religious overtones about natural selection, the film had half its budget cut and ended up not representing the original vision of the director. The film then faced further trials and tribulations in the editing suite as the Weinstein brothers kept asking Del Toro to cut segments of the film. At that point Del Toro was only on his second directorial job so had little in the way of clout to combat a producer powerhouse like the Weinstein’s.  Apparently they were especially nervous about a scene where some kids get brutally slaughtered which must have shocked people back in the 90s. The film came out summer 1997 and quickly disappeared despite mostly positive reviews. Del Toro moved on to The Devils Backbone and Blade 2 and the rest is history.

I have always liked Mimic, when I first saw it on Laserdisc (remember that?) it was a brilliantly tense little film with giant bugs and the awfully attractive Mira Sorvino (what happened to her?). I would show it to all my friends and they tended to agree. It’s a film I watched a lot and even bought the DVD copy when my laserdisc player packed up. It’s only in recent years as Del Toro has become a more and more verbose voice in genre circles that I learned of the hardship he faced getting the film made and of his original vision. With that in mind it is now hard to enjoy Mimic without wondering what could have been. I was heartened to hear that a Director’s Cut was on the way earlier this year and awaited it with baited breath.

For those of you who don’t know, Mimic tells the story of a New York City that is under the thrall of a disease epidemic which is killing children in the hundreds. The CDC traces the cause of the disease back to cockroaches in the sewer and joins forces with a scientist to wipe them out by introducing a genetic hybrid known as ‘The Judas Breed’ whose secretions will kill off the existing cockroach population. Three years later and the disease has all but disappeared but mysterious people in long overcoats are hanging around and people are disappearing. Peter (Jeremy Northam) a CDC doctor discovers an abandoned church which is full of filth and disease where someone or something has hung crap on the walls. At the same time his wife Susan (Mira Sorvino) is brought a strange new insect by some neighbourhood kids and discovers it shares the genetic make up of the Judas which was bred to die out after 6 months. Together they venture down into the subways under the city to discover the horrifying truth about what their creation has become and are locked in a fight for survival.

The first thing you should know about this Director’s Cut of Mimic is that there is no additional material with the bugs. You do not get the bugs that attack New Yorkers or that form perfect human replicas that Del Toro speaks of in the special features. The additional seven minutes of footage is all in the first hour and mostly makes up character development and fleshes out the pregnancy subplot nicely. Somehow because of the additions the film feels better paced and less rushed than before, taking its time to get to its memorable set pieces with good character work and writing. Mysteriously one scene is excised completely from the original cut and doesn’t even show up on the deleted scenes. The scene is missing but something that relates to it is added with the almost cave painting like drawings of the homeless living underground appearing and showing the mysterious creatures that dwell there. Sadly the cop out ending is still present and correct along with the CGI flaws that the lower budget caused with the compromised vision. The Director’s Cut also does nothing for Jeremy Northam’s awful performance. Northam was once tipped to be a James Bond shoo-in you know, but here he seems really miscast, stiff and awkward. Charles S. Dutton and Giancarlo Giannini and a young Josh Brolin make up the supporting cast and are all really good in their respective roles. Dutton especially has a world weary charm that has sadly been underused in cinema since the 90s when he also appeared in Alien 3.

Happily Mimic looks and sounds the business on Blu-ray. The picture quality is really amazing and reveals little details in the production design that were not obvious from the previous formats. The sound mix is also given a major boost and sounds perfect pumped through your home cinema system. It’s a shame that with the additional popularity he now has that Del Toro wasn’t able to do a George Lucas and go back and create some additional effects work to give Mimic the epic quality that he originally envisioned. This so called Director’s Cut feels a lot like a cash-in effort and not at all what was intended from a real director’s cut that truly would have been marvellous.

Mimic remains a solid B-movie with plenty to recommend it. It’s fun, it’s scary and it’s wonderfully gothic and icky. This version of the film though is perhaps best for Guillermo Del Toro completists only.

Extras: Directors Introduction, Directors Commentary, Deleted Scenes, Reclaiming Mimic featurette, Back into the tunnels; Shooting Mimic featurette, Storyboard Animatics, The creatures of Mimic featurette, Gag reel.

‘Mimic: Director’s Cut’ is out now on Blu-ray

Review: Evil Things (15) / Directed by: Dominic Perez / Written by: Dominic Perez / Starring: Gail Cadden, Laurel Casillo, Morgan Hooper, Ryan Maslyn, Elyssa Mersdorf, Cynthia Shaw, Torrey Weiss

I have a theory about ‘found footage’ movies. The more annoying the main cast, then the more authentic the film. On this facet, no budget found footage horror film Evil Things is to be commended. The cast of characters here are amongst the most annoying in any film ever, not to mention the fact that they are also complete and utter idiots. Logic mostly takes a back seat in Evil Things and it’s a testament to the fact that no matter how bad a writer or director you may be, you can still sell any piece of crap with the found footage label on it.

The film starts with our small gathering of imbeciles, three girls, two boys, their names escape me but I seem to think one of them was called Chad or something equally idiotic, driving to their home for the weekend out in the wilderness. It’s snowing, the roads are treacherous, one of them is the obligatory documentary maker, and you get the gist. Despite travelling at a speed akin to a tortoise with some heavy shopping due to the snow and ice, one of the girls keeps getting car sick so they end up pulling over every five minutes. They keep getting overtaken by a large van with dark windows which may as well have ‘Serial Killer’ pasted on the side. Every time they stop they see this van but try and put it out of their mind so as not to spoil the weekend. At this point it would have been a good idea to write down the number plate of the van but nobody thinks about that. Eventually they get to the house in the middle of nowhere and after much hilarity concerning the power being off they start drinking and doing increasingly inane impressions into the camera. This scene seems to last about half an hour and makes up much of the 74 endless minutes of torture that this film represents. The next day they reluctantly wake up and head off to explore the wilderness in the snow. Suddenly the camera cuts off and when it comes back on it’s dark and our heroes are all at each others throats because they are lost in the woods. They start to hear noise, the girls start to scream very loudly, they all run for about 2 minutes and then hey presto they are back on their front door step. This scene has to be seen to be believed and is almost worth the price of a rental alone. There they are in the dark, hopelessly lost in the woods and ready to eat the weakest member. They do a brisk jog and end up right back on their front porch. Back at the house the contemplation of cannibalism is swiftly forgotten and they start joking and drinking again. Then the phone starts ringing with nobody there, there is a knock at the door and nobody there and a mysterious package containing a video tape is left on the doorstep. They play the video and it shows footage, taken from inside the menacing van from previously, of the crew driving to the house, partying the first night, wandering uselessly through the woods and finally and most alarmingly of all footage of them asleep inside. Needless to say, there are tears and tantrums, a plan is hatched to leave but their car has gone and the menacing van is back outside. What exactly happens next is anyone’s guess but it’s made up of night vision footage, footage from inside the serial killer van and god knows what else. As far as I can tell, one kid disappeared, two ran off into the woods, one is unaccounted for and one dies horribly. It makes no sense and frankly, you hope they’re all dead…

The problem with Evil Things is obvious from the first ten minutes. Writer and director Dominic Perez has no clue what he is doing. The film starts with one of those evidence logging cards as if it is a piece of evidence found in the FBI archives. Ten minutes later and suddenly a score of incidental stock horror music kicks in. So what are we supposed to believe that in his spare time, some rogue FBI agent sneaks out evidence footage and puts musical scores to them as a lark? I can just see it in the court room, interrogation footage giving the jury extra entertainment with a dramatic ‘Dum Dum DERRR!!!’ as the suspect confesses on tape.  Perhaps even worse and more illogical is the fact that the later footage is made up of film that the apparent killer is filming. So he edited it and turned it in himself? It makes sense that the authorities would find the kids’ camera as they are all missing but why would the killer turn in his video which he obviously filmed as a kinky thrill? Why then would the Philip Glass of the FBI edit into existing footage to make a whole complete film? Suspension of disbelief only goes so far when you are striving for realism with your film.

Evil Things also chops and changes between which films it’s ripping off. The beginning is a lot like Jeepers Creepers or Duel. Then it’s Paranormal Activity in the house. Then for five hilarious minutes it’s the Blair Witch Project before becoming Lost Highway and back to Paranormal Activity again. A coherent through line to what narrative there was would have made all the difference.

I didn’t think it would be possible for me to see a worse film than The Wicker Tree in 2011 but Evil Things is that film. Dominic Perez should never be allowed camera or editing equipment again!

Extras: Trailer, More evidence footage found, Video appeals from the characters family members (!?)

‘Evil Things’ is out now on DVD

Review: Batman: Year One (12) / Directed by: Sam Liu, Lauren Montgomery / Written by: Tab Murphy, Frank Miller / Starring: Ben McKenzie, Bryan Cranston, Eliza Dushku, Katee Sackhoff, Jon Polito, Alex Rocco

Funny story: back at the turn of the century, before Batman Begins and The Dark Knight bought back the caped crusader’s cinematic credibility – much reduced after Joel Schumacher’s sordid shenanigans – Warner Brothers approached writer/director Darren Aronofsky, fresh from Requiem For A Dream, with a mind to having him steer a reboot of the Batman movies. Aronofsky, in his turn, came a-calling on Frank Miller, the co-creative force (with artist David Mazzucchelli) behind the seminal modern-day origin story of DC’s definitive vigilante. Batman: Year One was to be the basis for Aronofsky’s ill-fated reimagining, and a perfect basis it would have been, particularly in tandem with the talent involved in every corner… that is, had the project escaped development hell unscathed.

Needless to say, it did not. But there’s no sense in crying over spilt milk, especially considering the creative team Warner Brothers dropped Darren Aronofsky to pave the way for. The Nolans have done wonders for the franchise in the decade since that time; indeed, they too incorporated elements of Frank Miller’s seminal study of the Batman’s black beginnings into their films, going so far as to borrow a couple of characters wholesale, including mob boss Carmine Falcone, the jock cop Detective Flass, and of course Commissioner Loeb, the corrupt chief of Gotham City’s police force. To a one, then, the antagonists of Batman: Year One. The Nolans, however, found the conflict at the core of their reboot elsewhere.

So this year’s adaptation of Batman: Year One, courtesy DC Universe Animated Original Movies and MOI Animation, Korea’s pseudo-anime studio for hire, has been a long time coming. Depending on how you look at things, it’s been either an 11 year wait, or fully 24, because the original comic book was a late 80s affair… though it told a timeless tale if ever there was one to tell. Charting the rise of The Dark Knight over the course of a single year, its narrative began and ended – as does that of this mostly faithful feature – not with Batman, as you might expect, but Commissioner-to-be James Gordon, just arrived in Gotham City, with a wife, a baby in the making, and a mission from on high to root out corruption in the rank and file of GCPD. Bullied – beaten, even – by his fellow officers, chief amongst them the aforementioned Detective Flass, when they realise this new recruit won’t sit idly by while they use the law to advance their own standings at the expense of the safety of others, and tormented by the prospect of bringing an innocent life into “a city without hope,” as he sees it, Batman: Year One introduces us to James Gordon at a low point in his life. So far has this fundamentally decent man descended that he seeks refuge in the arms of Katee Sackhoff’s Detective Sarah Essen, never mind that there’s an infant in the offing.

The counterpoint to Gordon’s fall is of course the rise of The Dark Knight, who after years of intense training in lands far and distant finally puts into action his plan to go from zero to hero, by way of an attitude and some handy spandex. But Breaking Bad’s wry Bryan Cranston gets top billing in the credits as the principled future Commissioner for good reason, because for all intents and purposes, Batman: Year One is his story, as opposed to the caped crusader’s. Truth be told, that’s a real relief, because Benjamin McKenzie out of Southland as Bruce Wayne – and to a lesser extent his crime-fighting alter ego – is an absolute disaster; a bona fide sore thumb sticking out of what is otherwise a top-tier production. The art of voice acting is the essential sublimation of the voice actor, after all, and Benjamin McKenzie’s inexcusably stilted delivery only foregrounds the fact that he’s a dude sat in a sound booth somewhere, reading from a script to match the lip flaps of some pretty pictures. I can certainly understand the desire to bring in new blood to embody a younger iteration of everyone’s favourite caped crusader, but the casting of Benjamin McKenzie over fan favourite Kevin Conroy, for instance, only works against Batman: Year One. Had the focus of this hour-long animated movie demanded more than the bare minimum from McKenzie’s despondent detective, I dare say it would have been gone down very differently indeed.

But all is not lost. All is very far from lost, as a matter of fact, because virtually every other aspect of the latest in this line of shockingly competent comic book adaptations comes off. Eliza Dushku’s hooker-come-Catwoman is a little sidelined, I suppose – though the bonus short film starring none other than she on the DVD makes up multitudinously for that lack – and admittedly, the animation is rather more fluid and clean-cut than I’d have imagined of a cartoon based on Miller and Mazzucchelli’s distinctly dirty rendering of Gotham City and the ne’er-do-wells who call its seedier streets home. But otherwise? Batman: Year One is a treat. The script takes its cues straight from Miller’s spare storytelling, paring the dialogue down still more if anything; the pacing is so forth spot on; meanwhile the music by DC Universe cartoon composer Christopher Drake is appropriately ominous and intermittently bombastic, very much in the mode of Hans Zimmer’s superlative scores for Batman Begins and The Dark Knight; and Bryan Cranston does a brilliant Bryan Cranston, which is to say, as a down-on-his-luck James Gordon, he makes for an excellent anti-hero.

Would that Batman: Year One were a pilot for the next Batman animated series… one more focused on the GCPD than The Animated Series, and more adult in tone than any of the cartoons that have come and invariably gone since. If wishes were horses, I’d ride this one into the ground! As it stands, it’s still a terrific little film, not nearly so broken by an at-best bland Batman as you might think, and in a few years’ time, the animated adaptation of another Frank Miller classic – namely The Dark Knight Returns – will be along to fill the void Batman: Year One leaves in its persuasive wake. That day can’t come soon enough.

‘Batman: Year One’ is out now on DVD/Blu-ray

Review: Batman: Year One (12) / Directed by: Sam Liu, Lauren Montgomery / Written by: Tab Murphy, Frank Miller / Starring: Ben McKenzie, Bryan Cranston, Eliza Dushku, Katee Sackhoff, Jon Polito, Alex Rocco

Funny story: back at the turn of the century, before Batman Begins and The Dark Knight bought back the caped crusader’s cinematic credibility – much reduced after Joel Schumacher’s sordid shenanigans – Warner Brothers approached writer/director Darren Aronofsky, fresh from Requiem For A Dream, with a mind to having him steer a reboot of the Batman movies. Aronofsky, in his turn, came a-calling on Frank Miller, the co-creative force (with artist David Mazzucchelli) behind the seminal modern-day origin story of DC’s definitive vigilante. Batman: Year One was to be the basis for Aronofsky’s ill-fated reimagining, and a perfect basis it would have been, particularly in tandem with the talent involved in every corner… that is, had the project escaped development hell unscathed.

Needless to say, it did not. But there’s no sense in crying over spilt milk, especially considering the creative team Warner Brothers dropped Darren Aronofsky to pave the way for. The Nolans have done wonders for the franchise in the decade since that time; indeed, they too incorporated elements of Frank Miller’s seminal study of the Batman’s black beginnings into their films, going so far as to borrow a couple of characters wholesale, including mob boss Carmine Falcone, the jock cop Detective Flass, and of course Commissioner Loeb, the corrupt chief of Gotham City’s police force. To a one, then, the antagonists of Batman: Year One. The Nolans, however, found the conflict at the core of their reboot elsewhere.

So this year’s adaptation of Batman: Year One, courtesy DC Universe Animated Original Movies and MOI Animation, Korea’s pseudo-anime studio for hire, has been a long time coming. Depending on how you look at things, it’s been either an 11 year wait, or fully 24, because the original comic book was a late 80s affair… though it told a timeless tale if ever there was one to tell. Charting the rise of The Dark Knight over the course of a single year, its narrative began and ended – as does that of this mostly faithful feature – not with Batman, as you might expect, but Commissioner-to-be James Gordon, just arrived in Gotham City, with a wife, a baby in the making, and a mission from on high to root out corruption in the rank and file of GCPD. Bullied – beaten, even – by his fellow officers, chief amongst them the aforementioned Detective Flass, when they realise this new recruit won’t sit idly by while they use the law to advance their own standings at the expense of the safety of others, and tormented by the prospect of bringing an innocent life into “a city without hope,” as he sees it, Batman: Year One introduces us to James Gordon at a low point in his life. So far has this fundamentally decent man descended that he seeks refuge in the arms of Katee Sackhoff’s Detective Sarah Essen, never mind that there’s an infant in the offing.

The counterpoint to Gordon’s fall is of course the rise of The Dark Knight, who after years of intense training in lands far and distant finally puts into action his plan to go from zero to hero, by way of an attitude and some handy spandex. But Breaking Bad’s wry Bryan Cranston gets top billing in the credits as the principled future Commissioner for good reason, because for all intents and purposes, Batman: Year One is his story, as opposed to the caped crusader’s. Truth be told, that’s a real relief, because Benjamin McKenzie out of Southland as Bruce Wayne – and to a lesser extent his crime-fighting alter ego – is an absolute disaster; a bona fide sore thumb sticking out of what is otherwise a top-tier production. The art of voice acting is the essential sublimation of the voice actor, after all, and Benjamin McKenzie’s inexcusably stilted delivery only foregrounds the fact that he’s a dude sat in a sound booth somewhere, reading from a script to match the lip flaps of some pretty pictures. I can certainly understand the desire to bring in new blood to embody a younger iteration of everyone’s favourite caped crusader, but the casting of Benjamin McKenzie over fan favourite Kevin Conroy, for instance, only works against Batman: Year One. Had the focus of this hour-long animated movie demanded more than the bare minimum from McKenzie’s despondent detective, I dare say it would have been gone down very differently indeed.

But all is not lost. All is very far from lost, as a matter of fact, because virtually every other aspect of the latest in this line of shockingly competent comic book adaptations comes off. Eliza Dushku’s hooker-come-Catwoman is a little sidelined, I suppose – though the bonus short film starring none other than she on the DVD makes up multitudinously for that lack – and admittedly, the animation is rather more fluid and clean-cut than I’d have imagined of a cartoon based on Miller and Mazzucchelli’s distinctly dirty rendering of Gotham City and the ne’er-do-wells who call its seedier streets home. But otherwise? Batman: Year One is a treat. The script takes its cues straight from Miller’s spare storytelling, paring the dialogue down still more if anything; the pacing is so forth spot on; meanwhile the music by DC Universe cartoon composer Christopher Drake is appropriately ominous and intermittently bombastic, very much in the mode of Hans Zimmer’s superlative scores for Batman Begins and The Dark Knight; and Bryan Cranston does a brilliant Bryan Cranston, which is to say, as a down-on-his-luck James Gordon, he makes for an excellent anti-hero.

Would that Batman: Year One were a pilot for the next Batman animated series… one more focused on the GCPD than The Animated Series, and more adult in tone than any of the cartoons that have come and invariably gone since. If wishes were horses, I’d ride this one into the ground! As it stands, it’s still a terrific little film, not nearly so broken by an at-best bland Batman as you might think, and in a few years’ time, the animated adaptation of another Frank Miller classic – namely The Dark Knight Returns – will be along to fill the void Batman: Year One leaves in its persuasive wake. That day can’t come soon enough.

‘Batman: Year One’ is out now on DVD/Blu-ray

Review: X-Men: First Class (12) / Directed by: Matthew Vaughn / Screenplay by: Ashley Edward Miller, Zack Stentz, Jane Goldman, Matthew Vaughn / Starring: James McAvoy, Michael Fassbender, Rose Byrne, January Jones, Jason Flemyng, Nicholas Hoult, Kevin Bacon

As the Spring/Summer blockbusters continue their Christmas market DVD/Blu-ray roll-out, no other title deserves a reappraisal more than Matthew Vaughn’s ambitious and explosive reboot of the ‘X-Men’ franchise which appeared to have worn out its welcome after two well-received Bryan Singer movies (’The X-Men’ and ‘X2’), Brett Ratner’s much more derided ‘Last Stand’ and Hugh Jackman’s misfiring vanity project ‘X-Men Origins: Wolverine.’ Vaughn, who so nearly helmed ‘Last Stand’ finally gets to play in the mutant sandbox in this slick, clever and atmospheric movie which picks up on the ‘origins’ theme of Jackman’s movie but absolutely nails the story, the relationships and the ethos of the comic strip to create a film which is as likely to satisfy the demands of the aficionados as it’s likely to entertain a less comic book savvy audience who just like watching people in costumes flying about and beating each other up.

‘First Class’ kicks off by recreating the first moments of the first ‘X-Men’ movie as a young Erik Lehnsherr first demonstrates his metal-bending tendencies in a German concentration camp during World War 2. The camp commandant (Kevin Bacon) kills Erik’s mother as he tries to persuade the boy to demonstrate his powers again but escapes when the boy finally lashes out in anger. Erik grows up determined to track down and destroy the man who killed his mother – by the early 1960s the commandant has reinvented himself as a louche Bond-villain type calling himself Sebastian Shaw – while halfway across the world a telepathic young Oxford academic named Charles Xavier (James McAvoy) has identified the mutant gene which is developing in young people around the world and sets about trying to gather them together in the face of increasing public and official distrust in this new breed of super humanity. Xavier meets up with Erik during one of his attempts to kill Shaw (who escapes in his submarine with her off ‘Mad Men’ (January Jones) and Xavier and Erik form what’s clearly an uneasy friendship as together they collect and train a wildly-disparate and undisciplined bunch of young mutants (Hugh Jackman‘s cameo is a hoot). But trouble’s brewing as Sebastian Shaw is scheming to rid the world of troublesome human types once and for all, paving the way for the next stage of humanity to take control… 

What was initially planned as a low-key, low-budget ‘Twilight’ style ‘X-Men’ focussing on high school hi-jinks and teen romances quickly and thankfully became, with the involvement of Vaughn (and his co-screenwriters including Mrs Jonathan Ross Jane Goldman – and I’m sure she’d thank me for that description), a massive spectacular superhero period piece, a movie which purposefully evokes the spirit of early Bond in its retro fashions and big, spacious sets (the Blu-ray documentary goes to great pains to point out how influential the first couple of Connery Bonds were on the look of ‘First Class’) and yet remains true to the timeline and chronology of the comic books. Whilst the simmering relationship between Xavier and Lehnsherr is the heart and soul of the movie, there’s time and room enough for other characters to get a decent chunk of the action, specifically nervy young mutant Hank McCoy (Hoult) and his fumbling romance with shape-shifting Mystique (Jennifer Lawrence). Hank’s got big outsized hairy hands for feet and whilst it makes him pretty athletic it’s not a look he’s especially happy with but the vaccine he develops to subliminate the mutant gene just turn him blue and furry, into a creature quickly dubbed Beast by his fellow X-Men.

It’s a brave movie that utilises for its tense climax a real-life historical event which the audience all knows the outcome of – in this case it’s the Cuban missile crisis from 1962, manufactured here by the mind-bending machinations of Seb Shaw – but ‘First Class’ cleverly turns a crisis we’re familiar with into a lavish and breath-taking face-off between two bands of mutants, with the might of the US and Russian navies stuck in the middle. This is where ‘First Class’ is pure, glorious comic strip – the scenes of Russian and American missiles heading towards the beached mutants being manipulated by Erik (who’s now turned to the dark side, having finally offed Shaw) and spun back towards the warships could have been torn from the pages of a 1960s comic book. Even those with only a passing interest in previous ‘X’ antics could scarcely failed to be thrilled by the ending of the film, when Xavier suffers a famous injury and Erik finally turns away from the hand of friendship and disappears into the ether with his own band of mutants, appearing later on to spring the dreary diamond-skinned Emma Frost (Jones) from the slammer, declaring himself now to be known only as ‘Magneto.’

‘X’ fatigue did ‘First Class’ no favours during its cinema release; maybe audiences expected another disappointment and decided not to bother. Much as I enjoyed the film in the cinema it’s only when viewing it again on Blu-ray that I was able to appreciate what an intricate, beautifully-detailed film Vaughn and his conspirators have crafted, a film that’s thoughtful and elegant and yet dynamic and exciting. Packed with great performances (McAvoy is charming and witty as Xavier but this is Fassbender’s movie), a terrific score by Henry (not Hugh) Jackman and astonishing action set pieces, ‘First Class’ lifts ‘X-Men’ from the bottom of the superhero pecking order they’d fallen to and kicks them right back to the top of the tree again. A brilliant and horribly underrated film which deserves to find a proper appreciative audience on this sparkling, diamond-sharp Blu-ray release.

Special features: DVD buyers beware… you just get some deleted scenes. The Blu-ray edition (which includes the DVD version and that always-handy ‘digital copy’) offers more bang for your buck with a fascinating nearly warts-and-all ‘Children of the Atom’ ‘making of’, a composer’s isolated score (whatever that is) and an interactive mutant tracker which is probably a delight left for some other day.

‘X Men: First Class’ is available now on Blu-ray and DVD

Review: Silent Running (U) / Directed by: Douglas Trumbull/ Screenplay by: Deric Washburn, Michael Cimino, Steven Bochco / Starring: Bruce Dern, Cliff Potts, Ron Rifkin, Jesse Vint

‘Silent Running’ is one of the most famous and influential science-fiction movies of all time and while that influence is still being felt nearly 40 years after its release in recent movies like ‘Moon’ and ‘Wall-E’ it generally bears about as much resemblance to a modern sci-fi movie as a chocolate teapot does to the CERN particle accelerator. Whereas yer modern sci-fi blockbuster is crawling with CGI aliens and/or giant robots belting seven bells out of one another, ‘Silent Running’ is a quiet, mannered, majestic and rather stately piece of work, a science-fiction film made by and for adults rather than by committee and aimed at drooling hormonal teenagers with action figure fixations.

Douglas Trumbull, the 29 year-old director who had created most of the stunning visuals for ‘2001’ just a few years earlier, directed ‘Silent Running’ and gave the world its first ecologically-aware science-fiction movie, a film aching with the post-Vietnam angst so often associated with early 1970’s American cinema, introducing new fears – Earth’s resources running down and Mankind abusing Nature’s own provender – into the lexicon of things cinema audiences needed to worry about in the new decade. ‘Silent Running’ is set in the near future aboard a phalanx of giant space greenhouses tended over by a bunch of bored astronauts and the rather more intense and passionate Lowell Freeman (Dern). Apparently there’s no more greenery or vegetation back on Earth – which does tend to make you wonder how we’re all breathing at all on Earth in the near future – so Freeman (free man – see what they did there?) tends the plants in his great geodesic space domes with an almost religious fervour and he’s not particularly pleased when the order comes through that the domes are to be destroyed (for reasons never specified) and the crew recalled. His comrades aren’t bothered so Freeman has no option but to kill them and head off into space with only his plants and three cute box-like drone robots – he names them Huey, Duey and Luey – for company.

And that’s about it. No space battles, no big-faced alien predators, no time travel paradoxes; ‘Silent Running’ is about one man’s obsession and his belief that, whatever the consequences, he’s doing the right thing because he just can’t bear to do what he perceives to be the wrong thing. Adrift in space with only his obedient drones for company (and ironically, whatever ‘message’ the movie has, it’s those three waddling drones with which the film is most associated), Freeman’s life descends into a routine of plant maintenance, boredom and eventually a sort of terrified frustration when he discovers that his beloved forests are dying despite his best ministrations. Before long the authorities on Earth re-establish contact and a rescue mission is on the way. Realising his rescuers will discover what he’s done to preserve the forests Freeman, who deduces that lack of light is killing the forests, separates the dome and sends it out into space, whilst staying aboard the freighter to which the dome was attached and setting nuclear charges. The dome drifts off into space, blazing with life, lovingly maintained by Duey, the last remaining drone.

‘Silent Running’ clearly isn’t an action-packed sci-fi extravaganza because cinema didn’t go in for those sorts of movies in the early 1970s so it’d be unfair to criticise it for being something it could never have been. Whilst the pace is admittedly sluggish and the tone resolutely early 1970s hippie (Joan Baez screeches the end title song), it remains a moving and affecting film, well-directed by Trumbull (who never really got the chance to develop his craft in feature films in the following years) and with effective, if never showy, visual effects which still look good today. Cleaned up to within an inch of its life, ‘Silent Running’ looks the business on Blu-ray and whilst, as a film, it won’t be to everyone’s taste and it’ll certainly frustrate modern movie-goers who are used to films where something actually happens, it’s very much the connoisseur’s science-fiction movie, a product of its time and very probably a film to be savoured and admired rather than genuinely enjoyed.

Special features: Commemorative booklet, a surprisingly in-depth contemporary ‘making of’, interview with Bruce Dern, short featurette on Douglas Trumbull.

‘Silent Running’ makes a noise on Blu-ray in the UK on 14th November.

Review: The House on the Edge of the Park (18) / Directed by: Ruggero Deodato / Written by: Gianfranco Clerici, Vincenzo Mannino / Starring: David Hess, Annie Belle, Christian Borromeo 

Ruggero Deodato’s career as a filmmaker is overshadowed by the colossus known as Cannibal Holocaust (1979). Thirty-two years on it still polarises opinion, remains a cult classic and one of the most powerful uses of the found footage aesthetic.

Yet his 1980 effort, The House on the Edge of the Park, is equally controversial. Back during the Video Nasties era it was banned outright and added to the Director of Public Prosecutions List.

In 2002, the film, re-submitted for the DVD market, passed with a staggering 11 minutes worth of cuts. Nine years on and it’s still not completely out of the woods because this new Shameless Screen Entertainment release is missing thirty-seven seconds. What is most remarkable about Deodato’s film is how tame in comparison the material is to some features passed in recent times. So what’s the beef?

The major point of contention is the use of a cutthroat razorblade brushing against a victim’s breasts, nipples and in individual shots removed – pubic hair. This sort of sadomasochistic-tinged terror, according to the BBFC, is beyond the pale and not fit for the eyes of the masses.

It is quite clear, too, the length of the assault on poor Cindy (Brigitte Petronio) sits uncomfortably. There’s a similar scene, in a different context however, in Lamberto Bava’s Demons, where a woman has cocaine scrapped off her breasts by a thug using a razorblade. He touches her nipple several times and it looks like she’s getting off on it too. What hurts Deodato’s picture, in contrast, is the everyday world setting.

In many ways it is very easy to dismiss House for being a cynical, nihilistic portrayal of humanity wrapped around a flimsy notion of class conflict. This is no Marxist tract.

Where House really draws the viewer into its lurid set up is the unrelenting psychological horror. This is eventually scuttled by an awful third act plot twist that doesn’t make the blindest bit of sense.

Alex (David Hess) and Ricky (Giovanni Lombardo Radice) are two disco-loving psychos invited to the home of rich youngsters after they fix their broken down car. Given we’ve already seen Alex rape a young girl in the pre-opening credits sequence we know where the story is headed.

Hess is brilliant as the utterly cold lead villain. Alex stands next to Krug in Wes Craven’s The Last House on the Left (1972) as the actor’s most famous screen role. He’s a smooth-talker and Ricky is the slightly dim-witted sidekick. Radice over acts horrendously at times, but it’s an entertaining performance nonetheless.

Deodato shot the picture in a mere three weeks and it might be testament to his ability as a craftsman that the movie works so well. The script by Gianfranco Clerici and Vincenzo Mannino is the major weakness and the director, in the past, has claimed he doesn’t even remember making the movie at all. What’s three weeks out of a lifetime?

Over the years, given its troubles with the BBFC and cult status, the Italian cult icon has understood he’s made another flick which has entered the canon of cinematic controversy. It’s a great one-two punch. 

Punctuated through the rather play-like narrative are stylistic devices which appear unsettling and off-kilter. Jump cuts, lullaby melodies and intense suspense. The pared-back tone and near-solitary location setting further help things to constrict around the viewer.

Much like Professor Monroe’s pat observation at the end of Cannibal Holocaust, Deodato posits a similar note here and we’re left to wonder who the real monsters are. It’s a laughable conclusion given what has occurred actually makes a mockery of several characters’ ordeals. Are these rich kids completely insane like Alex? They’d have to be to undergo what they’ve been through. Sadistic or what?!

The rich characters make fun of Ricky and fix a card game to fleece the guy of his money. Alex cottons on to this and that’s the turning point for things getting nasty. 

The moments of discomfort include the dodgy rape-turned-sex scene between Alex and Lisa and the torture of Cindy whilst her captor sings a lullaby. This juxtaposition is horrible yet one of the film’s more memorable parts. Riz Ortolani does a fantastic job with the score and creepy theme. Indeed, it is a stylistic continuation from Cannibal Holocaust where the most transgressive horrors are accompanied to Ortolani’s romantic music.

The new DVD features solid video interviews with David Hess (who suddenly passed away on 8th October) and Ruggero Deodato. There’s also a transcript of the BBFC decision and the thirteen individual cuts it wanted made before re-release.

An original theatrical trailer and filmed introduction, again by Hess, are complimented by a fantastic filmed discussion between the BBFC, Professor Martin Barker, Prof. Julian Petley, Deodato and Giovanni Lombardo Radice. The quality of the recording, made during this year’s Cine Excess conference, isn’t great but this is fascinating stuff.

The House on the Edge of the Park is total, unabashed exploitation cinema. The transfer looks grubby and clearly taken from an old beat up print. Cynical, despicable and utterly horrid from start to finish yet also well constructed and effective, like Deodato’s 1979 cannibal movie, this one is a mass of contradictions.

 ‘The House on the Edge of the Park’ is re-released on DVD Oct 31st