Three brothers are on the run from the law, after their latest bank raid has gone disastrously wrong. With one of them seriously injured, they head to the one place a good son would – back home to mama! The only problem is that the bank repossessed the family home and mama, along with the boy’s teenage sister, was forced to leave. However due to some confusion over mobile phones (don’t ask – I didn’t really get this point either), the boys didn’t find out about this slight mishap, and arrive at the house to be greeted by the new residents who are in the middle of a party. Understandably upset by this sudden change in the family fortunes, the three misfits hold the unfortunate revellers hostage, and contact the only person whom can help them in their predicament. Enter the mother from hell, who will do literally anything for her boys, and I mean anything!

I can find absolutely nothing to say in favour of this cinematic abomination. Calling it a horror film is, in my opinion, misleading. Even the worst of them (and believe me I’ve seen some bad ones) usually have something in their favour, be that acting, storyline, effects, photography – something (though seldom all together). However anything Mother’s Day might have had going for it, for instance De Mornay puts in a very capable and undeniably chilling turn as the demented mother in question, is lost in the utter gratuitousness of this vile spectacle.

Though I had mixed feelings about going to see the film, I thought I’d give it a go. I was under the misconception that it would be along the lines of some of those 1980’s teenager in peril films, something like Happy Birthday to Me (please don’t ask why that particular slash fest came to mind, as I know it bears no relation whatsoever to mothers or their happy celebration – but there again neither does this film (suffice to say that the horror genre can play funny tricks on the memory). Neither did watching the trailer putt me off 100%. We are all aware that trailers can be misleading – just how bad could the film be? After the recent news that Human Centipede II has been refused a certificate by the British Board of Film Classification, you could be forgiven for thinking that if a film has been deemed viewable, all be it with an 18 rating, it must have some merit? However Mother’s Day proves that even the board can get it wrong. It reminds me of those films of the 1970’s like Last House on the Left and I Spit on Your Grave, where vengeance upon those who wronged them seemed to give the victim carte blanche to take revenge in whatever form they liked no matter how extreme. During that infamous period of cinema history such films were banned as part of the ‘video nasty’ cull. Now similar, if not worse, have found acceptability under the umbrella of ‘torture porn’! But is there really any difference?

Some may say that considering the film is from the director of Saw II, III and IV, you should expect strong, sadistic violence. Indeed, though I’ve only seen a couple of the Saw films, I did recognise similarities. Even so, this did not prepare me for the film’s sheer nastiness. De Mornay’s character has little or no redeeming qualities whatsoever, but comes out even worse than her degenerate children because she hides her viciousness beneath a seemingly sweet exterior, at least initially. That she doesn’t have time or sympathy for her unwitting victims is hardly surprising. But we learn as the film proceeds, that she has been just as bad towards her own unsuspecting offspring. It emerges that she has subjected her children to prolonged, subtle mental abuse (which can be just as damaging as physical, some would say more), over a period of years.

Now I’m no prude where films are concerned. I can, and have, stomached pretty much everything over the years. However I defy even hardcore horror buffs not to be nauseated by the unrelenting violence of this film once it kicks in. What De Mornay’s character and her sons subject the unfortunate new inhabitants of their old house, and their friends, to is sickening – this family makes the inbreds from The Hills Have Eyes look like the Waltons! Rape (though this never actually gets as far as full perpetration), burning, mutilation, shooting, stabbing, beating, scalding with boiling water and that’s just for starters. Add to these atrocities a car crash, more shootings, suffocation with cling film, peppering a victim’s face with a nail gun (eat your heart out ‘Pinhead’), battering unconscious with a wooden chopping board, and burning the house down. The possibility of a redemptive finish to the whole sordid business, though admittedly that would have been out of keeping with the previous two hours, is lost in favour of an open ending and a bit of child abduction thrown in for good measure. Anyone with even a shred of morality should pray that they don’t make a sequel.

The film has what could have been one interesting twist. The male characters are for once, not necessarily the strongest, and almost without exception, none survive, while the women come out on top (excuse the pun!). However even this is overshadowed by the fact that it is a woman, in the shape of the mother, who is the real evil force driving her family to carry out their heinous crimes.

I’m sorry if my review has spoilt the film for you. However a critic’s job is to advise as well as criticise.  As a result I see this as a warning against, as opposed to a recommendation in favour of it, and if reading this has made you think twice about seeing Mother’s Day, so much the better.

Expected rating: 6 out of 10

Actual:

Three brothers are on the run from the law, after their latest bank raid has gone disastrously wrong. With one of them seriously injured, they head to the one place a good son would – back home to mama! The only problem is that the bank repossessed the family home and mama, along with the boy’s teenage sister, was forced to leave. However due to some confusion over mobile phones (don’t ask – I didn’t really get this point either), the boys didn’t find out about this slight mishap, and arrive at the house to be greeted by the new residents who are in the middle of a party. Understandably upset by this sudden change in the family fortunes, the three misfits hold the unfortunate revellers hostage, and contact the only person whom can help them in their predicament. Enter the mother from hell, who will do literally anything for her boys, and I mean anything!

I can find absolutely nothing to say in favour of this cinematic abomination. Calling it a horror film is, in my opinion, misleading. Even the worst of them (and believe me I’ve seen some bad ones) usually have something in their favour, be that acting, storyline, effects, photography – something (though seldom all together). However anything Mother’s Day might have had going for it, for instance De Mornay puts in a very capable and undeniably chilling turn as the demented mother in question, is lost in the utter gratuitousness of this vile spectacle.

Though I had mixed feelings about going to see the film, I thought I’d give it a go. I was under the misconception that it would be along the lines of some of those 1980’s teenager in peril films, something like Happy Birthday to Me (please don’t ask why that particular slash fest came to mind, as I know it bears no relation whatsoever to mothers or their happy celebration – but there again neither does this film (suffice to say that the horror genre can play funny tricks on the memory). Neither did watching the trailer putt me off 100%. We are all aware that trailers can be misleading – just how bad could the film be? After the recent news that Human Centipede II has been refused a certificate by the British Board of Film Classification, you could be forgiven for thinking that if a film has been deemed viewable, all be it with an 18 rating, it must have some merit? However Mother’s Day proves that even the board can get it wrong. It reminds me of those films of the 1970’s like Last House on the Left and I Spit on Your Grave, where vengeance upon those who wronged them seemed to give the victim carte blanche to take revenge in whatever form they liked no matter how extreme. During that infamous period of cinema history such films were banned as part of the ‘video nasty’ cull. Now similar, if not worse, have found acceptability under the umbrella of ‘torture porn’! But is there really any difference?

Some may say that considering the film is from the director of Saw II, III and IV, you should expect strong, sadistic violence. Indeed, though I’ve only seen a couple of the Saw films, I did recognise similarities. Even so, this did not prepare me for the film’s sheer nastiness. De Mornay’s character has little or no redeeming qualities whatsoever, but comes out even worse than her degenerate children because she hides her viciousness beneath a seemingly sweet exterior, at least initially. That she doesn’t have time or sympathy for her unwitting victims is hardly surprising. But we learn as the film proceeds, that she has been just as bad towards her own unsuspecting offspring. It emerges that she has subjected her children to prolonged, subtle mental abuse (which can be just as damaging as physical, some would say more), over a period of years.

Now I’m no prude where films are concerned. I can, and have, stomached pretty much everything over the years. However I defy even hardcore horror buffs not to be nauseated by the unrelenting violence of this film once it kicks in. What De Mornay’s character and her sons subject the unfortunate new inhabitants of their old house, and their friends, to is sickening – this family makes the inbreds from The Hills Have Eyes look like the Waltons! Rape (though this never actually gets as far as full perpetration), burning, mutilation, shooting, stabbing, beating, scalding with boiling water and that’s just for starters. Add to these atrocities a car crash, more shootings, suffocation with cling film, peppering a victim’s face with a nail gun (eat your heart out ‘Pinhead’), battering unconscious with a wooden chopping board, and burning the house down. The possibility of a redemptive finish to the whole sordid business, though admittedly that would have been out of keeping with the previous two hours, is lost in favour of an open ending and a bit of child abduction thrown in for good measure. Anyone with even a shred of morality should pray that they don’t make a sequel.

The film has what could have been one interesting twist. The male characters are for once, not necessarily the strongest, and almost without exception, none survive, while the women come out on top (excuse the pun!). However even this is overshadowed by the fact that it is a woman, in the shape of the mother, who is the real evil force driving her family to carry out their heinous crimes.

I’m sorry if my review has spoilt the film for you. However a critic’s job is to advise as well as criticise.  As a result I see this as a warning against, as opposed to a recommendation in favour of it, and if reading this has made you think twice about seeing Mother’s Day, so much the better.

Expected rating: 6 out of 10

Actual:

Is there a more iconic figure in cult cinema than Franco Nero as Django? He’s a character so cool even with mashed up, bloodied hands, he finds a way to gun down his enemies and claim victory.

Sergio Corbucci’s ultra-violent western has proved an influential work (Quentin Tarantino adores it) and delivers a seemingly revenge-driven tale caked in mud as much as the red stuff. With the advent of Cine-Excess V screening of the 1966 classic and the publication of Any Gun Can Play: A Guide to the Euro Western (FAB Press, 2011)*, Franco Nero came to London on May 27th and proclaimed: “Django was made for the worker.” Indeed, its cult appeal these days belies the fact the movie was a popular hit and sparked numerous cash-ins back then. Further movies with ‘Django’ in the title often had nothing to do with the original movie beyond exploitation of the name.

The opening credit sequence, complete with a wonderful theme song, alters the usual idea of a stranger riding into town on his horse. In fact, there are no horses to be seen for a good fifteen minutes. Django, a former soldier who fought on the Yankee side, appears in a near-ghost town dragging a mysterious coffin.

Corbucci delivers a clever narrative implying Django is out for revenge on the film’s chief villain, Major Jackson (Eduardo Fajardo). It sets itself up A Fistful of Dollars style with a character making a play – divide and conquer – between rival outfits: Mexican revolutionaries versus Southern, Ku Klux Klan-style gangsters. Akira Kurosawa’s samurai classic Yojimbo has proved a major influence on western cinema and Franco Nero admitted as such in the Q&A before the screening.

Django is a screen classic in its own right. It is super-stylish and gives us a morally ambiguous character to root for. This is a clear mark of exploitation cinema. Nothing is ever black and white. Django displays good and bad qualities. He spins us a tale about lost love but seems way more interested in the gold at the fort and riding off into the sunset with the riches. Perhaps Django is telling the truth when he tells hooker-with-a-heart-of-gold María (Loredana Nusciak) he can never love again. But there’s the sense he uses people when he needs to and will cast them aside once they served their purpose.

Corbucci shot his western outside Madrid, in presumably, very bad weather. Yet the film’s barren, dirty, muddy environment gives Django a fatalistic, rotten edge. It reeks of death and decay; and that’s exactly what the lone stranger brings to town: death. Django is rather cocksure about his ability to see out his scheme. He’s got a Gatling gun hiding in the coffin and when he sprays lead into Major Jackson’s gang everybody is impressed.

There are lashes of cinema style from crash zooms, grand wide shots and whip pans: all with precision editing. The saloon fight is noticeable, too, for using handheld camera techniques and rapid montage, lending it an immediacy not often seen in westerns. The famous ear-slicing scene re-appeared just as famously in Reservoir Dogs.

Unlike more laconic Spaghetti Western heroes Django is a talkative chap. Franco Nero plays the character as a romantic figure. Women love him and men want to be him, and that surely is what echoed with the audience. With his electric blue eyes and cool as a cucumber swagger, Django cemented his place in cult film history.

*Any Gun Can Play: The Essential Guide To Euro Westerns by FAB Press is on sale now.

Please meet Adele Blanc-Sec, adventurer, travel writer and, let’s be honest here, general trouble maker. Her publishers have sent her to South America for her latest assignment. However the ever wilful Adele has other ideas, and is now in Egypt, looking for the mummy of a famous doctor who was physician to the pharaohs. She hopes to take the mummy back to Paris, where an eminent scientist has discovered the secret of life. Adele wants to use the secret to bring the mummy back to life so that he can heal her twin sister, who has been paralysed in an accident for which Adele blames herself.

All this would be fine, except that reports are coming in that Paris is being terrorised by a strange bird like creature of prehistoric proportions. When Adele returns to the city she soon discovers that resurrected mummies and angry publishers are the least of her worries!

If ever a film lived up to it’s name it this wonderfully witty period fantasy by the French director Luc Besson (if you remember that he is the genius behind The Fifth Element you will get some idea of what you are in for). Translated literally the title means Adele ‘Dry White’, and like a good French white wine that’s what you have, something dry and sharp but with a pleasant aftertaste.

Imagine Indiana Jones, transported back thirty years, with the main action taking place in ‘gay’ Paris, a female Jones, and you have this enchanting film. The whole thing is simply gorgeous, running like one long, extravagant cartoon (which given that the story is based on the comic book heroine created by Jacques Tardi, is hardly surprising). From the palette of muted browns and dusty oranges which colour Egypt and the rich gem like hues of Edwardian Paris, to the cavalcade of grotesque characters that people the plot, this is a two hour feast for the senses, both visually and mentally.

Though, by the very nature of the plot, there are monsters (human, both alive and dead, and animal), none of them would be likely to give you sleepless nights. There is really very little that would scare anyone – even the pterodactyl is a sweetie once Adele harnesses him up with her feather boa. If i was nitpicking, it is the pterodactyl however which causes the only real problem in the film. It is the melding of real life, animatronics and animation involving this creature, which at one point doesn’t quite gel. However this small fault is excusable when you consider how seamlessly the rest of film comes together. Rest assured after watching this you really will believe in prehistoric creatures. There is also one incident towards the end during which those of a squeamish disposition should look away, but as this is intrinsic to the understanding of the plot, we will allow it. Neither should the thought of marauding mummies put you off. Forget all those brainless, bandage wrapped corpses that have gone before, from Karloff and Lee, to the more recent ones that Brendan Fraser had to deal with. These guys are in a class of their own, and the pharaoh himself gets one of the film’s best lines, when he suggests a use for the large empty courtyard in front of one of Paris’s museums – clearly as architects and innovators the Egyptians were away ahead of their time.

Basically though, to scare, is really not the reason for this film. It is, like so many French films of the fantastic (who can forget classics like Amelie and Belleville Rendez-Vous?), simply there to enjoy. Indeed I found the whole thing utterly charming, in a way that modern Hollywood, with their high octane superhero extravaganzas, or shipwrecked star vehicles, couldn’t hope to emulate. Oh that they would take a look at European cinema (from Britain and the continent) – they might actually learn something. Namely that if the story is strong, and the acting good, the rest follows naturally. There again style, in whatever art form, has always been effortless for the French.

Expected rating: 7 out of 10

Actual rating:

Renai and Josh Lambert (Rose Byrne and Patrick Wilson), move into a new house with their three kids. For a while everything seems perfect, until one of their sons, Dalton (Ty Simpkins), has an accident whilst exploring the attic. As a result the child falls into a coma, and the couple, particularly Renai, find it increasingly difficult to to deal with the pressures of their new home, young family, and a son who is now in a virtual vegetative state, permanently confined to his bed.

 

Things however are about to take a turn for the worse. Renai begins to see and hear things, when she is alone in the house, and as the strange happenings increase she becomes convinced that the house is haunted. Eventually, though still not sure that the problems are supernatural, Josh agrees to move into a rented house, in the hope that a change of environment will help his wife. However, after only a few days in their new house the supernatural occurrences begin again, with even more unsettling manifestations. At the recommendation of Josh’s mother Lorraine (Barbara Hershey), they call in a group of psychic investigators, who have some disturbing news. It’s not their houses which are haunted, but their son Dalton, who is acting as a gateway for a particularly unpleasant demon to enter our world, which he intends to do at all costs.

 

I believe as a critic you should as far as possible do just that, criticise. No film is flawless, and there will always be something to find that lets it down (and believe me, with some modern films that isn’t difficult to do). As a result, I looked desperately for a fault in Insidious. But to no avail. It is quite simply one of the most nerve shredding, edge of your seat, shockers I have seen for… well, ever!

 

There are so many sharp, original and hauntingly beautiful things about this film, that I’m at a loss as to where to begin. I also don’t want to say too much, as to do so would be to spoil the sinister air which the film sets up so effectively. One thing I will highlight though is the clever method it uses to achieve the sense of menace that permeates the film. You never see the same ‘ghost’ twice (except at the end), which helps unnerve the viewer even more. You come to the point that you literally don’t know what to expect next.

 

Having said this, I will admit to a couple of small niggles (well it is as I said my job, as a critic, to find some fault, somewhere). Firstly, from the outset, the character of Renai is irritating. She appears to be rather highly strung, a trait which makes it hard for you as the viewer, to have sympathy for her plight as the story progresses. You almost feel it would be a relief to be spirited away, if just to get a break from her. However I guess being left at home with a screaming baby and a new house, whilst trying to concentrate on your day job as a composer and song writer, would be enough to test the patience of a saint.

 

Then there is the fact that the film as a whole doesn’t quite manage to sustain until the end, the promise of its first two thirds. The problem is that it falls into the trap that so many promising horror movies do, by showing too much. It is much more effective at the beginning, when all you see are fleeting shadows, or the suspicion of something just out of view. One of the most unsettling scenes involves a record player that starts to play an old period song, when Renai knows the house is empty. There’s always a sinister air about empty, sunlit rooms, and old gramophone records, which even the most terrifying monster can’t achieve, and the demon which Josh and Dalton eventually confront doesn’t quite hack it, being reminiscent of the winged protagonist from Jeepers Creepers. The film also loses some of the wonderful tension it has built, when the characters cross to the other world. Poltergeist did a similar parallel dimension thing, but much more effectively because it didn’t show as much, leaving it up to the viewer’s imagination. Finally the twist at the end is a little limp, as I saw it coming a mile off. And believe me, if I can see a twist coming, then it must be weak.

 

If I’m honest though, I’m just fishing for failure. There is really nothing bad to say about this film. I loved every minute of it, and am green with envy that I can’t enjoy it again for the first time.

Expected Rating 7

 

Actual Rating

by Martin Unsworth

The Tunnel is a new Australian horror movie from first time director Carlo Ledesma. It is also the first film made under “The 135k Project” which basically means that if 135,000 people bought a digital frame of the movie for $1 each, they will have covered the budget. The film was also released to DVD (in Oz, but available worldwide through the website), shown on Australian Showtime TV, and in a surprisingly trusting move, onto bit torrents for free. The theory being that if you download the film for nothing, and enjoy it you will at least go and buy a frame. Or tell a friend, and they might. Well, I’ll be honest, it worked for me.

The film tells the story, documentary style, of a reporter who wants to discover why the Sydney authorities have suddenly pulled the plug on a project to recycle the excess water in Sydney’s disused underground wells, thus helping the drought problems. She is convinced it’s because homeless people are living down there but the MPs all refuse to talk and want the story to go away.

So she takes her film crew down into the dark maze of tunnels in search of an answer, or at least proof of people living there which has been denied.

It is through talking heads, and the crew’s footage we discover the horrors within. OK, so the technique of hand held and character POV filming is nothing new, The Blair Witch Project opened that can of worms up. But this at least has a film quality to it for the most part, a great compliment to the filmmakers especially due to the budget restrictions. Where other films have left you feeling like you’ve been spun round in a washing machine for an hour and still expect you to keep watching, The Tunnel mixes the hand held infra red camcorder with the high definition TV camera well enough to avoid this. You get a lot of running feet but thankfully they avoid having snot dripping into the lens.

The underground locations lend themselves to a wonderful claustrophobic atmosphere, and bring to mind the London Undergound as used in Gary Sherman’s Death Line (1973) Who has not tried to peer into those dark tunnels and wonder what is beyond?

One thing I would say with the free download, the low bit-rate does cause some pixelation to the very dark scenes, but it is still very watchable, and if you enjoyed it, why would you not want to own the proper DVD to watch it in its proper resolution on your big flat TV screen?

Times are hard, and none more so for young directors wanting to film their vision, so I applaud Carlo for the way he is doing this. He is not asking for thousands of pounds upfront for the chance to be an extra, or have your name in the end credits like some have in the past. $1 from each person who watches the film would easily cover the cost. And should the film end up making money you are promised 1% back of that profit too. It is independent film making the way it should be. Outside the studio system, and as such should be supported as much as possible.

For more information, and to download the film go to http://www.thetunnelmovie.net/ and do not forget to go back afterwards and buy a frame. Just don’t be surprised if its just black, it is a film set in a tunnel remember?

(Idea: 10 out of 10!)

After the disappointment of the last two offerings in the X-Men franchise – X-Men Origins: Wolverine and The Last Stand – Director Vaughan raises the level back to Singer’s standards.  The Vaughan and Jane Goldman screenplay collaboration team are together again after their successful run of films, Kick-Ass and Stardust and they deliver on character and cool yet again.

A character driven X-Men film that focuses on the back stories of Erik Lehnsherr (Michael Fassbender) and Professor Charles Xavier (James McAvoy), their friendship, and how they end up on opposing sides.  Set in the 1960s against the backdrop of the civil rights movement, the JFK presidency and the Cuban missile crisis, the story cleverly interweaves the revolutionary feel and socio-political issues of the time into the dawning of the X-Men’s existence.

With an opening sequence that delves into the contrasting childhoods of Lehnsherr and Xavier and introduces the villainous Sebastian Shaw (Kevin Bacon) in a brutal sequence that leads on from the original X-Men movie where Lehnsherr is torn away from his parents at a concentration camp, the dark nature of the violence sets it apart from the rest of the X-Men franchise.  With no Wolverine in this one, cool fight sequences are kept to a minimum, with spectacle and special effects taking over.

Fassbender brings pure class and conviction to the table in his portrayal of Erik Lehnsherr, who in essence is a man (albeit with superpowers) dead set on revenge. His intensity and sheer screen presence twinned with the story behind his anger is compelling viewing.  The level of graphic violence that Vaughan is willing to use becomes pretty obvious early on from a scene involving Lehnsherr, some barbed wire and metal manipulation, ouch!

McAvoy takes the role of Charles Xavier and makes it his own; no Patrick Stewart impressions present here, rather a portrayal of a recent Oxford Graduate who happens to be a mutant growing up in a sheltered existence. He is not the older and wiser version we are used to seeing, more a flirtatious fool whose integrity grows with each challenge he is faced with. His only friend is Raven Darkholme, better known as Mystique (Jennifer Lawrence), whose blue skin is perfectly presented with special effects and flawless makeup. Whilst on the subject of makeup, I am afraid to say Nicholas Hoult’s transformation into Beast is more cowardly lion than magnificent mutant.  Hoult’s performance was stellar from the very moment he appeared and the building friendship between Beast and Mystique is wonderful to watch, but the makeup failed to frighten in the big reveal scene.

In the same way that Forrest Gump references moments in history, Goldman and Vaughan use the Cuban missile crisis as a plot element that heavily features the character of Sebastian Shaw and his scheme to gain world domination. Bacon plays the role of this malevolent mutant who can absorb power and use it as he wishes with aplomb, never hamming it up, in this self assured and perfectly pitched performance.

With so many characters and powers to introduce the film does, at times, become a special effects showcase.  Azazel, whose power of teleportation is depicted with swooshes’ of black mist, and Riptide act as silent henchmen for Sebastian Shaw.  Some of the younger mutants are overlooked when it comes to development and back-story but with such strong performances from McAvoy and Fassbender to focus on this is easily forgivable. Featuring a couple of cameos for the fans of the previous X-Men movies, with some razor sharp comic timing their appearance lightens the mood of the film and delivers some of the biggest laughs.

Stylish settings with technology and design from the 1960s are used to great effect with an array of sharp suits and turtlenecks to boot for the men. Not faring so well are the lingerie laden women draping off men that look like they have walked straight in from the opening credits of a Bond film.  With cleavage galore from Mad Men’s January Jones in her role as Emma Frost and Rose Byrne down to her knickers within minutes of appearing on screen the nod to a bygone era may be offensive to some, but it does add to the overall feel and authenticity . Add a split screen montage sequence that uses solid black lines for separation in true 60s style, saucy banter and some self referential wit and you have a solid piece of stylish filmmaking.

Expected rating: 9 out of 10

Actual rating: 

Some franchises just don’t know when to lay down and die. The first Pirates of the Caribbean movie, starring Johnny Depp as semi-soused pirate cap’n Jack Sparrow and based on a Disney theme park ride, was a breath of fresh, salty sea air when it arrived on our screens back in 2003. Two bloated, convoluted sequels later and, despite big Box Office bucks, we’d all had just about enough of Sparrow’s increasingly irritating antics and would have been more than happy to see him walk the plank for good. But Hollywood’s never one to leave a cash cow unmilked for long so here he trundles again, in what’s threatened to be the first of a new Jack Sparrow trilogy, this time with director Rob Marshall at the tiller. Sadly  On Stranger Tides runs aground almost immediately and at the end of a long and often very dreary 135 minutes we’re left with a character who’s now little more than a caricature and a film which, by virtue of a clearly-reduced budget, is considerably less than the sum of its parts.

What’s most disappointing about On Stranger Tides is that, presented with the opportunity to wipe the slate clean and start afresh, freed from the clutter of the first three films and with Orlando Bloom and Keira Knightly out of the way, writers Ted Elliott  and  Terry Rossio  have found nothing new to bring to the Captain’s table; they’ve just replaced like with like. So instead of drippy Orlando we get drippy Sam Claflin (he’s in love with a fish) and instead of Keira we get the ghastly, barely-coherent Penelope Cruz (big hair, big mouth, big deal). The story remains pretty much the same, too. After a rattling escape from London (one of a number of admittedly well-executed if perfunctory action set pieces) Jack meets up with his ex-squeeze Angelica (Cruz) who’s been impersonating him in order to recruit a crew for her ship. Jack finds himself enlisted on a quest to find the legendary ‘Fountain of Youth’ in the company of his old sparring partner Barbossa (Geoffrey Rush) and, for added (rather obvious) menace, the grizzled Blackbeard (Ian McShane). In the course of their travels this motley crew appear to find themselves stranded in locations from Lost, indulge in the odd bit of swashbuckling and, in the film’s only really energised sequence, fight off hordes of vampiric mermaids. Elsewhere it’s pretty much business as usual with Depp mugging and flapping and wailing, and that joke’s just not very funny any more.

Not only is On Stranger Tides bereft of any new ideas it also looks a bit cash-strapped. Largely gone are the glorious Caribbean vistas and seascapes of the first trilogy, much of this takes place at night on board one ship with little or no attempt at creating a sense of cinematic scale despite the bluster and bombast and the final climactic battle scene just looks cluttered and clumsy. The film’s main problem is that it seems to think that Captain Jack alone is enough to justify our time and our pennies and On Stranger Tides offers nothing for any of its other characters. Rush’s Barbossa has been emasculated beyond belief, McShane’s Blackbeard is back-of-a-fag-packet pantomime pirate who does little but make empty threats and the rest of the attendant scurvy pirate knaves are just there to make up the numbers and bulk up the crowd scenes.

On Stranger Tides signs off as the first blockbuster disappointment of the summer (and likely not the last). I’m su

re there’s more mileage to be had from the ‘Pirates’ saga but unless there’s some new blood injected into the mix next time around, it’s going to be less ‘Yo Ho Ho’ and more ‘Yawn Yawn Yawn’. My sincere apologies…

Expected rating 6

Actual…

Oh Dear God. Someone gave  director Scott Stewart (not enough) money to make another fantasy film. They let him put British blandie Paul Bettany in it. Did no-one in Hollywood actually see last year’s pitilessly-poor Legion where Stewart cast Bettany as some sort of angel sent down to earth to ward off the apocalypse from a low-budget diner somewhere in the middle of American nowhere? Does no-one think of the audience?

But I’m being disingenuous for the sake of a few cheap shots. Priest is nothing like as bad as Legion (it’d be difficult) but it’s really not especially good and it’s certainly not particularly memorable. But at least it appears to be making an effort and Stewart clearly has a vision he wants to put on the screen, even if his budget won’t quite let him. I’m always wary of films which info-dump by way of long, tedious voiceovers but Priest gets away with it by virtue of a clever and atmospheric animated sequence depicting the ages-long struggle between man and vampires which forms the spine of the movie. It seems that the vampire scourge was ultimately wiped out by a bunch of super-powered priests (honestly) who themselves fell into disrepute when the vampires were beaten. But not everyone believes the vampires have been exterminated and when our nameless priestly hero’s niece is captured, he sets off to either rescue her or kill her if she’s been infected by the undead.

Priest quickly abandons its effective and rather-impressive walled-city environment (where humanity has retreated post-vampire) for a more budget-friendly featureless desert landscape across which the priest can race on his super-bike (the only high-tech concession on display) before pitching into battle with ugly, balletic and all-too-obviously CGI vampires.

Priest, inspired by a Korean comic book, apparently, rips off…sorry, pays homage to all sorts of better source material from Blade Runner to The Searchers and while it’s fitfully enjoyable and there are some decent high-powered action sequences (Bettany is starting to take to the ‘action hero’ role a bit better now) its brief running time (just under ninety minutes) means it never really gets into high gear. There isn’t enough time to develop any plot or decent characterisation and the final face-off between the priest and the bad guy Black Hat is over and done with before it’s even started.  At the end of the movie the priest tries to convince the city elders that the vampire threat still exist but they’re having none of it. The priest roars off on his big bike, heading towards further exciting adventures; I’m willing to bet we don’t get to see any of them on screen because this looks suspiciously like yet another still-born would-be franchise with ideas above its potential. Oh, it’s in 3D too which, of course, means things appear to be flying out of the screen or look as if they’re going to poke you in the eye. Tired of this gimmick now, thanks; if you can’t use the technology to improve the actual story-telling can we just have our normal 2D pictures back now please?

Expected rating  5

Actual…

Director Joe Cornish’s debut feature, Attack the Block, does for alien invasion movies what Shaun of the Dead did for zombie films. With Hollywood still demolishing planet Earth in big, brash blockbusters like Skyline and Battle: Los Angeles Cornish’s film is a little more intimate and a lot more enjoyable. The idea is so thunderingly simple – voracious carnivorous aliens descend upon a Sarf London tower block defended by a motley gang of hoodies and druggies – it’s hard to believe no-one’s done it before. But where Shaun of the Dead was a resolutely white, middle-class fantasy, Attack the Block is a harder sell with its predominantly young black cast, its sometimes baffling urban patois and the simple fact that the main protagonists are introduced to the audience as a bunch of nasty, knife-wielding thugs who carry out a terrifying mugging at the very start of the film. Incredibly, Cornish somehow manages to subvert our expectations and our prejudices and over the course of the film the gang become likable heroes as we begin to realise that they’re really just a bunch of deprived kids acting big and grown-up and doing a pretty decent job of saving the world (or at least their grim little bit of it).

The gang are mid-mugging when an alien drops from the sky and demolishes a car. Recently-qualified nurse Sam (Whittaker), the ertswhile mugging victim, does a runner and the gang investigate and finds a ferocious furry alien complete with fluorescent gnashers; Moses (Boyego) quickly dispatches the creature, straps its corpse to his back and parades around the estate with his kill. But before long the estate is bombarded with more and more ferocious aliens dropping out of the sky. The gang retreat to their tower block and prepare to do battle armed only with a few fireworks and their street savvy.

Attack the Block isn’t exactly a comedy – even though there are some cracking one-liners which raise a chuckle if never a belly-laugh – and it’s not exactly a horror film. There’s a bit of discrete gore here and there but the film’s more concerned with exciting its audience in a number of pulsating chase sequences with the kids biking and rushing around the corridors of the tower and walkways of the estate, with the genuinely scary aliens – a sort of a cross between an ape and a werewolf – in very hot pursuit. Cornish handles the action sequences with enormous confidence; he’s clearly steeped in this sort of stuff and he’s relishing every minute of bringing his quirky, pacey story to life. He’s helped enormously, of course, by decent production values which bely the film’s modest budget; the aliens really are something a bit different, worlds away and worlds more effective than the unreal CGI creations the Hollywood machine churns out. One particular sequence, showing the aliens swarming along the outside of the tower block as they lay seige to its baffled occupants, is stunningly-realised and oddly breath-taking.

Considering they’re the backbone of the movie’s narrative, the cast of largely-unknown and untested kids acquit themselves well and the charismatic Boyega is particularly impressive as the moody, brooding Moses. Jodie Whittaker as Sam is our identification figure – ‘hey, these kids really aren’t all that bad’ – and while it’s always good to see Nick Frost his stoned slacker character is getting a bit tired now.

Attack the Block marks Joe Cornish (previously best-known for his ongoing comedy partnership with Adam Buxton) as a name to watch out for in British cinema, the most exciting new director since Edgar Wright made the leap from TV with Shaun. Whilst Attack the Block isn’t quite as accomplished and downright joyous as Shaun, it’s certainly the best and most inventive British genre movie since Simon Pegg and co battled against  the Finsbury Park zombie invasion. Attack the Block is a breath of fresh air and is hugely recommended.

Expected rating: 7 out of 10

Actual rating: