Salt (2009, Michael Angus and Murray Fredericks)

Not to be confused with the 2010, Angelina Jolie, action blockbuster of the same name; the 2009 documentary short, Salt is an altogether different film.

Salt is the story of award winning and universally acclaimed Australian photographer, Murray Fredericks, who makes a yearly pilgrimage to the centre of Lake Eyre's vast, 3,700 square mile area of salt flatland, in the Northern corner of South Australia. After travelling to what can only be described as one of the most featureless landscapes I have seen on film in some time, he sets up his camera, and captures those moments where the land and sky intertwine. This is a trip that Fredericks has made for six years now (at the time when this film was made), and he spends his time there waiting for those moments where the vast abyss of the land and sky create an otherworldly, alien experience. 

For a film which is roughly half-an-hour long, it is fairly well structured and surprisingly well layered. I must admit that, early into the film's running time, I thought this was little more than a travel-doc, puffing up a sensitive "artiste's" self image. My perception of the film changed, and Fredericks himself, changed once we are shown his monotonous and tedious daily routine, like having to constantly avoid storms and keeping his lenses clear. By capturing Fredericks' routine, we are not necessarily getting depth from him, but it does allow us to sympathise with him, since the routine allows him to seem more human. In the last half-an-hour of the film, he reveals that the motivation behind travelling to a part of the world with no civilisation came after receiving a cluster of bad news at the age of 26. Within the span of about a month, he discovered that his parents were getting divorced, not long after his father had recovered from cancer, and, on top of that, his then girlfriend, whom he had a child with, was leaving him. This resulted in him temporarily going blind in one eye and not leaving the house for several months.

By attempting this journey every year, he is searching for himself, and searching for something more profound, all while staring into the wide, open abyss. This is a trope which is familiar in narrative, fictional cinema, but it is just as profound in documentary cinema, such as Werner Herzog's Encounters at the End of the World. Fredericks likens it to "staring into the abyss", which is of course magnified when the particular abyss he is staring into just happens to be a fantastic and beguiling sensory experience which is constantly changing, depending on the weather or time of the day.

Then there are the flats themselves, which, quite frankly, engulf one's vision with their vast beauty; so much so that Fredericks runs the risk of playing second fiddle to the natural beauty he is attempting to capture, which I suppose is fairly fitting, but I doubt it is deliberate. One particular fascination of filmmaking, which has become very popular since the rise of websites such as Youtube or Vimeo, is that time-lapse videos have become very accessible and widespread online, and the film contains several minutes of time-lapse. On one hand, there is really nothing particularly unique or interesting about a time-lapse of a beautiful landscape; especially since a quick search on Vimeo would give me thousands, if not tens of thousands, of time-lapses just as impressive. On the other hand, these are stunning to look at and, as audience members, it is perhaps the only opportunity we are going to get to see these flats in this particular light.

If there is a flaw, it is that, while eventually becoming an interesting piece of work, it does come across like a paid advertisement for Fredericks' photography (which is stunning, judging by the pictures shown during the closing credits). Even as the darker layers are revealed, there is little to the film which has not been better explored by many other filmmakers. It certainly is not bad, it just feels inessential and better suited to television; which is inevitably where it went, after American television channel, PBS made it part of their documentary series, P.O.V. There is also the nagging sense that, had Fredericks' journey taken place anywhere else, there would not really be a film at all, since a lot of the film hangs on the stunning photography and the beauty of the salt flats.

Although, having said all that, if the film is a little shallow, there are a lot worse subjects to centre a short documentary on, as Fredericks is an affable, genuine seeming man. All in all, there are plenty of worse ways to kill half an hour, and we are presented with a good example of a man staring out into the void and finding that the void stared back at him. Other than that, it lacks a uniqueness which could have made something like this truly breathtaking.

7/10

Fargo (1996, Joel Coen)

In attempting to categorise Joel and Ethan Coen's crime-comedy movie, Fargo, one comes up against several pitfalls. On one hand, while it has elements of noir in its structure, its setting, characters and black-humour make it difficult to call it an out and out film noir. On the other hand, it would be hard to call this a straight comedy, since any laughs that come from this only serve to heighten the crime plot. I guess this is what made the Coen brothers come across as such oddballs back in 1996. They were idiosyncratic to the point where their work was undefinable either in genre or tone.

The film opens in 1987, and Jerry Lundegaard (William H. Macy), a Minneapolis based auto salesmen, has travelled to Fargo, North Dakota, to hire two criminals to kidnap his wife, in exchange for a brand-new car and half of $80,000 ransom. Although, Jerry is not shooting straight dice, as he intends to demand a much higher sum from his wealthy father-in-law, hoping to keep most of the money for himself. Carl (Steve Buscemi) and Gaear (Peter Stormare), the two hired goons, successfully kidnap Jerry's wife, but things go awry as they are pulled over by a cop while passing through Brainerd (home of Paul Bunyan and Babe the Blue Ox). Carl's attempt to bribe the cop fails, which prompts Gaear to shoot the police officer in the head. As Carl is clearing the now deceased officer off the side of the road, he is seen by a couple passing by in a car. Gaear gives chase, until the couple swerve off the road, enabling him to kill them both. The investigation now falls into the hands of Brainerd based police officer, Marge Gunderson (Frances McDormand), a quick witted, highly competent police officer who happens to be several months pregnant. 

To watch Fargo is to experience two filmmakers who, not only understand genre, but also understand how people in Minneapolis behave. Of course, Joel and Ethan Coen grew up in Minneapolis, so they clearly understand the attitudes and the speech of the people who live there; from their lilting "Minnesota Nice" accents to something as simple as their reaction towards bad weather. One might call it a risk to set it somewhere like this, with these people, but the film, and indeed the filmmakers, have an overwhelming confidence in their work which sees it through to the end. We can take Marge seriously as a police officer, despite her saying things like, "Mind if I take a seat, I'm carrying quite a load here." Or, "By the look of his footprint he looks like a big fella'". Although, regardless of the Coens' familiarity with the people and place, it is the originality of the crime story which cements it all together. 

That is not to say that there has never been a film about a botched crime job before this, but it is handled tremendously. For example, Jerry's incompetence as a criminal can be seen when he tries to stop the kidnapping going ahead, since he may not need the ransom money after all, but cannot cancel because he does not have the kidnappers' phone number. In fact, his incompetence as a criminal is only surpassed by his greed and selfishness. He only has himself to blame for getting himself further into hot water. His attempts to scam his father-in-law, the criminals and the General Motors Acceptance Corporation (which he uses to take out loans on cars he does not own), is hilarious, since he is so blind to the consequences of his actions. Of course, William H. Macy specialises in these kinds of bumbling fools, but nothing he has done before or since this have come close to the excellence of this performance.

Through the Coens' use of banal dialogue and small town sensibilities, even characters like Jerry and the two kidnappers come across as recognisable; which is  perhaps why this is their best screenplay to date. The characters do not talk in exposition, they talk, as you or I would, and the film is all the better for it. Jerry is a monster and a creep, but his mounting debt does make him a human being - if not a decent human being - if only because we recognise his cluelessness. Carl is a lowlife, small time hood, but the more things go wrong, the more his paranoia continues to mount, until the things he does no longer seem to be in his, or indeed anyone's, control. Although, his biggest source of paranoia comes from the sluggish, "big fella", partner of his, Gaear. Since he is a psychopath who has no qualms murdering anyone he chooses. In any case, even if they are not at all sympathetic, they are endlessly endearing to watch, if only so we can see how badly they mess up.

 Marge Gunderson  is clearly the moral compass of the film. She trusts people implicitly, to the point where she comes across as a little naive, and her demeanour is unwaveringly friendly. She just wants to do her job — at which she excels — and go back home to her husband and watch a little television before bed. She is perhaps the Coen brothers' greatest character, and the fact that she does not appear until half way through the film only strengthens the fact that she is such a good contrast to the rest of the characters in the film, who are for the most part, scumbags. 

Perhaps the most crucial part of Marge's development is a subplot that comes fairly late in the film, where she meets Mike Yanagita (Steve Park), an old high school friend who has long since harboured a crush on Marge. After a little small talk, she asks him whether or not he ever got married or had kids and he replies by telling her that he was married, but he is now a widower. It is not until later that Marge finds out from an acquaintance that Mike was never married, and the woman to whom he claimed to have been married is still alive. Until now, Marge had never considered that people could be so cruelly manipulative or underhanded to attempt to get something they wanted (in this case, Mike wanted to sleep with Marge). This characterisation is what is so marvellous about Fargo and that meeting with Mike allows Marge to see through people who are willing to be so banally evil to get what they want. The fact that she manages to come through the events of the film with her soul and heart intact is marvellous, and when she tells her husband, Norm (John Carroll Lynch) that they are "doin' pretty well", she really means it.

Frances McDormand's performance, as Marge, is nothing short of brilliance, and will go down in history as being one of the best ever by a female lead.  She is helped by a fantastic supporting cast, who work hard to make their dishonest, shady characters seem human; which is quite a feat, considering just how awful they are. 

I am unsure if this is my favourite film by Joel and Ethan Coen, but it is certainly up there with their best films, and, alongside The Dude from The Big Lebowski, it contains their best leading character. Also, it would be remiss of me not to mention the score by Carter Burwell, who uses a Norwegian folk song, The Lost Sheep, as the basis of his score. This is especially clever, since the way characters speak portrays their Scandinavian-American origins. There is really little else I can say about the film without overpraising it, so I will end by imploring anyone who has not seen this, to go out and find a copy.

10/10

Mother (2009, Joon-ho Bong)

In the past twenty years or so, it has become abundantly clear that South Korea has become one of the finest countries in the world for producing and making original film content. Perhaps the best known director is Chan-Wook Park who, along with being the director of Oldboy, also seems to have made the most impact on Western audiences. Less well known, but no less talented, is  Joon-ho Bong who, since directing  Godzilla inspired monster movie, Host, in 2006, has become somewhat of a cult figure for East Asian cinema.

Kim Hye-ja plays an unnamed widow who lives alone with her son, Do-joon (Wan Bin); a shy young man who has learning difficulties. She makes a living performing unlicensed acupuncture therapy to the town's women and selling medicinal herbs. She dotes on her son, to the point where she allows him to sleep in the same bed as her, and scolds him when he hangs around with local near-do well Jin Tae (Ku Jin). One night, Do-joon, after an evening of heavy drinking, follows a teenage girl home, who, the next morning, is found dead on the roof of her house, with a wound that suggests she was bludgeoned. As far as the police are concerned, there is no question that Go-joon is guilty, as there is fair bit of circumstantial evidence to pin him to the murder. However, the mother has other ideas, and goes to drastic measures, some quite horrific, to prove him innocent.

What is so magnificent about this piece of work is that director, Joon-ho Bong, and his screenwriters Eun-kyo Park and Wun-kyo Park, manage not to make either victims or monsters out of their characters. There is some debate over whether Do-joon killed that young girl, especially given his difficulty comprehending situations and his quickness to anger when people call him a "retard". The mother, too, in her quest to free her son, does some monstrous things, which occasionally confounds comprehension. For example, one particularly strong moment of ignorance on the mother's part is when she goes to the murdered girl’s funeral. Of course, the girl's parents see her very presence in their home to be an insult. In that moment, even if we are to believe that Do-joon was not the murderer, one can see the extent of the mother's fractured psyche; that she thinks it is simply okay just to waltz into their home as if nothing had happened. It is such masterful characterisation like this which prevents the characters from being merely black or white. They are momentarily sympathetic and in the next moment they act horrifically, or ignorantly. 

Perhaps what is best about the film, is that nothing is quite what it seems, and the narrative drifts between each scene, almost like a madman's dream of a police procedure; not unlike the first season of Twin Peaks. As in Bong's 2003 film, Memories of a Murder, police incompetence is often a source for black humour, and the mother's general distrust for both the police, and her son's defence attorney, are what spur on her investigation. Due to her son's conditions, moments of stress cause him to become forgetful, and the narrative feels as if the world is being seen from his point-of-view. Although, rest assured I am speaking metaphorically. What I mean is that the film has mischievous sense of anarchy, and scenes become more thrilling when one realises that this is a world seen in Bong's mad mind. Some scenes which happen towards the start of the film tend to drift off, as if forgotten by the filmmakers, only to come back later; told at such points in the film that their inclusion adds the maximum amount of tension for the viewer. 

However, Bong is really in his element when examining the psychology of a particular situation. For example, Do-joon's condition, which has undoubtedly been with him since birth, has not been helped by a mother who hovers over him and dotes on him. Their relationship is, to put it lightly, Oedipal, and scenes of them in bed can only confirm this. So, one can hardly blame Do-joon for the way he is, especially since he has been barred from living his life and growing up healthily. Although, in the same breath, one can hardly blame the mother either, since she clearly is not much healthier than Do-joon. While, whatever psychological cracks  she may be containing are not as overtly obvious as her son's.

In keeping with the film's fractured, unusual narrative, the mise-en-scéne has a wonderfully inky, graphic art-esque, colour palette. Deep blues, greens and greys saturate the screen, which compliments the film's content; by which I mean that it is brooding, but fantastically so. However, one should note, this has been a very popular visual style that has often been used by South Korean filmmakers. Chan-Wook Park, for example, frequently uses a similar aesthetic for his films, and can be seen most recently in his last film, Thirst.

While, having said all that, it is Kim Hye-ja's performance which makes the film stand out. Her performance is simply mesmerising, especially when showcasing her character's frailty and dependence on her son. Had this been made in the United States or Britain, this would be considered a star making performance, and she would never be out of work. Regrettably, this is only one of two acting credits Hye-ja has had in the last 13 years, and one hopes that, based on her performance here, we will see much more of her in years to come.

8/10

Deception (2008, Marcel Langenegger)

During the late 80s and early 90s, erotic cinema such as Basic Instinct and Fatal Attraction were riding a brief wave of popularity, which vanished as quickly as it began; much to the joy of cinema goers the world over. So, it is with a heavy heart that I review Deception, which is a risible erotic thriller from 2008 starring Ewan McGregor and Hugh Jackman, who also acts as one of the films producer. Quite how such an appalling potboiler could attract such A-list stars is beyond me, but I imagine in Jackman's case, it was so he could play a bad guy for once.

McGregor plays Jonathan McQuarry, an auditor, working temporarily at a New York lawfirm, who finds that life is passing him by. He has no friends, no family, and worst of all, he has not had sex for a long time (oh, the horror). One night, he meets a lawyer named Wyatt (Hugh Jackman), who is everything that Jonathan is not. He is witty, charming, rich, and best of all, he knows how to attract women, much to the envy of Jonathan. The day before Wyatt is to go on a business trip to London, Jonathan and Wyatt accidentally pick up each other's phones, due to the contrivance that they have the same brand of phone. So, with Jonathan having Wyatt's phone, and vice versa, Jonathan starts getting calls from anonymous women who are part of a sex club known as "The List", in which Jonathan gleefully indulges himself. Unfortunately, trouble starts brewing when Jonathan falls in love with one of the girls, known only as "S" (Michelle Williams), who disappears without a trace only a few days after their first meeting. The next evening, Jonathan gets a call from Wyatt who reveals his true intentions are much more sinister than he first revealed.

As a fan of McGregor's, I remember following this film briefly throughout its pre-production, and I can say with some certainty that 20^th Century Fox, the film’s production company tried to bury this piece of work. Firstly, it was titled "The Tourist", later it was re-titled "The List", only to eventually settle on the completely generic title, Deception, which goes to show the studios lack of trust in the film. Other than that, it was originally not press screened for critics, only to be eventually given a screening less than half a week before it was due to open. Rumour has it that Hugh Jackman's production company, "Seed Productions" insisted that this be widely released in cinemas, and that at least $10 million was to be put into the film's marketing budget. 

So, if its own studio had no faith in it, then how bad must it be? Well, let us start by dissecting the characters, shall we? Firstly, our protagonist, Jonathan, who is meant to be sympathetic, as his bashfulness makes him easy prey for someone like Wyatt. However, it is hard to sympathise with a character that spends the majority of a film stalking his “dream” girl, played by Michelle Williams, while taking advantage of a friend's membership of a sex club. He is also a fairly wet blanket of a character, with little actual characterisation or personality. For example, we only know he is geeky simply because he has a side parting and wears glasses. Ewan McGregor's performance is also uncharacteristically awful, which is a shame, since he is usually a very engaging screen presence. This weak characterisation can also be applied to Wyatt, as he is nothing more than a cluster of clichés posing as a character. As I previously mentioned, he is charming, successful with women and has a sharp dress sense. In short, everything you would expect from a smug, villainous lawyer. Michelle Williams is sorely miscast as "S", yet she does attempt to make what she can with such a weak character. It is a testament to her skills as an actor that she make a role, which is meant to be nothing more than a sexpot, make any sort of impact at all.

Now, let us, move on from weak characterisation, to the film’s questionable sexual politics. While this is marketed as an "erotic thriller", there is really nothing erotic about watching Ewan McGregor writhe with models dressed in the most ridiculous underwear you have ever seen. It is not as if I am expecting much from the genre, yet the women here are completely disposable, both literally and metaphorically. In one scene, Wyatt is able to threaten Jonathan by slitting the throat of a girl named Simone (Natasha Henstridge), who was the first “list” member that Jonathan slept with. Knowing that Marcel Langenegger was, before directing this, most prolific as a director of perfume adverts is unsurprising, since the entire film has a metallic, hollow feeling to it, with little understanding of how humans actually interact. Everyone on "The List" is an urban professional who has no time for relationships during the day, and uses the sex club as release. Even in the realms of erotic fiction, this is silly, and feels less like a movie and more like something you would find on a bookshelf next to Fifty Shades of Grey.

Although, regardless of its many flaws, Dante Spinotti’s photography is appropriately steely and he puts New York’s subway stations and skyline to good use. What works less well is when the film shifts gears and uproots the story to Milan, and suddenly the Italian streets look very much like a tourist promotion. Other than the photography, there is not a whole lot which is recommendable about this film, and it is frankly embarrassing to see such a talented cast wasted in piffle like this. Perhaps the worst piece of casting is Charlotte Rampling, playing a character known only as “Wall Street Belle”, whose main goal in the film is to introduce Jonathan to the rules of the sex club. Never has the phrase, “you deserve better than this” been shouted so loudly as when she first appears on the screen.

In conclusion, this is a silly movie, with a plot recycled from a dozen “erotic” movies that were released between 1985 and 1995; except without the benefit that this particular genre was profitable then. This is a film that was used as a stepping stone for Jackman, who cynically uses his first producing credit to play the villain, and as a mere paycheque for McGregor, Williams and Rampling. Not the worst film ever made, by any stretch of the imagination, but the notion anyone would want to see an erotic film which lacks heat, passion or even sexuality, is beyond me.

3/10

The Amazing Spider-Man (2012, Marc Webb)

Five years ago, director Sam Raimi brought us Spider-Man 3, the last film in a trilogy which, unlike its predecessors, garnered mixed to negative audience and critical notices. Despite the towering critical and commercial success of Spider-Man and Spider-Man 2, the negative reactions for the third film were enough to destroy the franchise. Now, only five years after the last Spider-Man film and just a decade after the first film, director Marc Webb brings us The Amazing Spider-Man; a new film based on the comic book series created by Stan Lee and Steve Ditko.

If the story is familiar, it is because Peter Parker's transformation from geeky high school student to superhero has never changed; unlike Batman's, whose origin story can be told in a number of different styles. Peter Parker (Andrew Garfield) spends his life in near-anonymity, being ignored by his dream girl, Gwen Stacy (Emma Stone) and beat up by the school bully, Flash (Chris Zylka). When he was a child, his parents (played by Campbell Scott and Embeth Davidtz) left him with Uncle Ben (Martin Sheen) and Aunt May (Sally Field). One day, Peter finds out that his father was partners with a man called Dr. Curt Conners (Rhys Ifans), so he heads to Conner's lab in OsCorp, gaining access by pretending to be an intern. It is here that he sneaks into a lab where a "biocable" is being performed by genetically engineered spiders, one of which bites him and it is then when he begins to change into the titular superhero.

This review may come across as slightly biased, if only because of the importance that the character of Spider-Man holds on my, and I am guessing many other's lives. First of all, for those who do not already know, one should realise that the mythos of Spider-Man deals with a teenager who is dealing with puberty. He straddles childhood and manhood and he learns that the special powers he has been given force him to become wise beyond his years, and speed up the process to becoming a man. I saw Sam Raimi's Spider-Man a mere week before my twelfth birthday, and as far as I was concerned, I was Peter Parker. His challenges were mine, and everything he went through seemed to symbolise what I was going through; making the road to becoming a man less rocky. I remember, as I left the cinema in 2002, I began bouncing back to my house in an attempt to jump and swing through the streets like Spider-Man. These films (well, the first two at least), and later, the comics, were my guidebook to adult hood, especially as I was going through secondary school and university. Since then, I have become a self confessed, unashamed geek, and the more I think about it, the more I realise how the first two Spider-Man films and the comic books should be a requirement for young boys going through puberty. 

However, this is where the drawback for The Amazing Spider-Man comes. It could never have the same importance to me, which makes looking at this subjectively a little tricky. In terms of overall quality, it is on par with the first Spider-Man film, and Webb wisely avoids repeating things that Raimi had already achieved with his trilogy. For example, a back story is given for Parker's parents, which Raimi never even attempted to tell, and a longer setup is given before Parker is bitten. Also, and perhaps the biggest change in the film, is that Uncle Ben never utters the phrase: "With great power, comes great responsibility". Although, Ben still gives Peter a lecture on responsibility and adulthood. While these are all very wise decisions, when retelling the same story, there is only so much one can change. 

So, at its worst, the film manages to give one a sense of deja-vu whenever something is even remotely similar between this film and Raimi's. Everything here which is done well has been done before and, forgive the referencing of the film's title, The Amazing Spider-Man, comes across not so much "amazing" but as "unessential". Still, there is plenty to like here. Andrew Garfield is the best onscreen Spider-Man yet, juggling the heroic and the mundane sides to Parker's life admirably. Emma Stone as Gwen Stacy is also very charming, but a little underwritten. Martin Sheen as Uncle Ben manages to do so much with so little screen time, which is no surprise, considering just how talented he is as a performer. It is a shame he never utters Uncle Ben's most famous line from the comic books ("with great power, comes great responsibility"), but he still manages to play a decent father figure.

Perhaps the only piece of characterisation which is not better in this film, is the villain, Curt Conners, who later turns into The Lizard. Firstly, the computer generated effects in this film are appalling, which, when considering your villain is a man who turns into a giant lizard creature, is fairly inexcusable. Also, Rhys Ifans plays both Conners and The Lizard as a moustache twirler, spouting pointless exposition and whose climactic, villainous plot is weak and unthreatening. (He plans to turn the city of New York into 8-foot lizard creatures like himself. Please, stop giggling).

As I previously mentioned, the visual effects here are bad, and look closer to something you would see in a video game than a multi-million dollar comic book franchise starter. As these scenes played out in the cinema, I did think that there was no excuse for visual effects to be this dreadful. This is especially bad when one considers that filmmakers such as Neill Blomkamp (District 9) and Danny Boyle (Sunshine) can make visual effect heavy films with budgets as low as $30-40 million.

Fortunately, the first film in a franchise often has an easily defeated, unmemorable villain, because the bad guy is of little interest to an audience the first time out. The first film is all about setting up how Peter Parker becomes Spider-Man, and rather wisely devotes a good portion of the first third of the film to Parker's school and home life. Here is where the film triumphs, and I imagine that many young girls and boys (mostly boys) entering adolescence, who were only children when Raimi's Spider-Man was released in 2002, will get a lot out of these scenes. This is partly due to Andrew Garfield's performance, which is equally geeky and sincere, and a script which has few cliches. For example, Flash, the school bully, may make Parker's life hell, but he also manages to show a little kindness after tragedy strikes the Parker household. 

However, it is a pity that when Parker finally does don the red and blue tights, most of the scenes set at school are pushed to one side in favour of heroic acrobatics. It is also a pity that the subplot involving Uncle Ben, which motivates Peter to fight crime in the first place (I am trying hard not to spoil things here), is mostly forgotten once it is done.

Regardless of these flaws, my hope would be that a new group of preteens will seek this out, and I hope that Parker's struggles through adolescence will mirror those  of young men who are just entering secondary school. In 2002, young girls had Buffy the Vampire Slayer and boys had Spider-Man. Let us hope that this starts a new trend for well written teenagers in science-fiction and fantasy. 

7/10

Welcome to Collinwood (2002, Joe Russo and Anthony Russo)

No amount of goodwill that I have towards the filmmakers and cast of Welcome to Collinwood can spare it from the review I am about to give it. I say that, not because it is bad, nor because I think it deserves to be given an especially harsh review, but because it is disappointingly mediocre. Given just how talented those in front of and behind the camera are, one would not expect the film to be so forgettable, yet it is. Although, that is not to say it is not enjoyable, and its old-fashioned "heist-gone-wrong-hijinks" is delightfully fluffy, but forgettably so.

After attempting to steal a car, Cosimo (Luis Guzman) is caught by the police and sentenced to spend time in jail. While there, he meets an old man who tells him of the perfect heist which he himself cannot pull off because he is serving a life sentence. After hearing this, Cosimo tells his fiance Rosalind (Patricia Clarkson) to find a "Mullinski" (which, in the film, refers to a first time offender willing to take the heat for his attempted car theft) so that he can get out and pull off the heist. Rosalind talks to Toto (Michael Jeter), Basil (Andrew Davoli), Leon (Isiah Whitlock, Jr.) and Riley (William H. Macy), all of whom like the idea of the planned heist, but not the jail time. Eventually, the gang of hapless criminals come across Pero (Sam Rockwell), who takes up the task of taking the heat for Cosimo, under the condition that he is given $16,000 as compensation. Things do not go as planned and Pero is thrown in jail with Cosimo who, in a fit of rage, tells Pero the entire harebrained heist scheme. Through a set of high convoluted circumstances it is revealed that Pero will not be in jail long, as his sentence was suspended, and Cosimo has been left to rot in jail while Pero and the rest of the gang of petty crooks attempt to pull off the heist that was entrusted to Cosimo.

Did you follow all that? Really, it is okay to admit that trying to make sense of that synopsis is like trying to untangle a pair of knotted headphones. However, when the film works, this is what is so delightfully silly about the film. One won't remember the film five-minutes after watching it, but that is not to say that its silliness is not infectious. It seems the most obvious comparison to make to this film would be to Steven Soderbergh's Ocean's Eleven. Not only because they are both heist movies, but because Soderbergh acted as executive producer here, along with Ocean's Eleven star, George Clooney (who makes an amusing cameo as a wheelchair bound safecracker). Regrettably, while both films are parody heist movies from the 1950s and 60s, Welcome to Collinwood simply does not have the same charm or energy, and peters out before it ends.

Perhaps this is due to the fact that the cast, likeable though they are, are never allowed to get a handle on the material, since the script is so dull. They all give their respective roles gusto and verve, but the script throws uninteresting curve balls and story arcs that go nowhere, seemingly in an attempt to fill out the rather thin plot to feature length. For example Carmelo (Jennifer Esposito), the girl Pero is courting who lives in the apartment next to the one where the heist is meant to take place, is utterly superfluous and is there only for Pero's development rather than her own. Other arcs, including Basil falling for Leon's sister, Michelle (Gabrielle Union), go absolutely nowhere and just serve to fill out time. 

One wonders how much better this would have been as a half-an-hour TV pilot, or a short film, since sibling writers and directors, Anthony and Joe Russo have had their greatest successes on television and have won an Emmy for their work on cult TV show, Arrested Development. Although, I should make it clear that the reason I believe the shortcomings of the material falls on the directors' respective shoulders and not he cast's are because, well, look at that talent on display here! Perhaps this is a bias, but when a film has this many character actors in one film, the film's shortcomings will never be because of the cast. If anything they are the ones who turn something unessential and dull into something fun; especially William H. Macy as Riley and Sam Rockwell as Pero, who are both broad, charismatic comedic actors. Although, as good as they are, Patricia Clarkson and Luis Guzman are both very underused and Michael Jeter, as Toto, the bumbling old man of the team, is amusingly melancholic. For example, a scene where the gang has to cross from one rooftop to another is perked by the fact that he is petrified of heights. As any character actor worth their salt would, he does not play it for laughs and the scene is amusing because of how seriously he plays it.

Although, regardless of the hard work put in by the cast, Welcome to Collinwood is just a damp squib of a film, which has more promise than it could deliver. Everything about it has been done before and better, and while there is fun to be had here, there is nothing to get excited about. One could sit down with a DVD copy of either Soderbergh's 2001 remake of Ocean's Eleven, or Lewis Milestone's original, which was released in 1960, and starring every member of the Brat Pack and have a better time.

5/10

McCabe and Mrs. Miller (1971, Robert Altman)

In the early days of what we now refer to as "New Hollywood", studios, such as United Artists and MGM began to hire young filmmakers to direct films with high budgets and high expectations to return a profit. At this time, directors such as Francis Ford Coppola and Robert Altman, the auteur who made the film I am reviewing today, McCabe and Mrs. Miller, managed to make a mark in Hollywood which, arguably at least, has yet to be topped. Altman, whose best known work at the time had been the war film, M*A*S*H, was beginning to make a name for himself, and was known for working well with large ensemble casts.

Our story begins with McCabe (Warren Beatty), a gambler who has recently arrived in the town of Presbyterian Church (named after its only substantial building). He quickly finds himself in a dominant position in the hierarchy of the camp, partly due to a rumour surrounding him that he is a famous gunslinger also named McCabe, and partly due to his forceful nature. When he arrives, he brings with him three prostitutes, bought from a pimp in a nearby town, to entertain the simple miners of the town, and builds them a makeshift brothel. One day, an opium addicted "madam" called Constance Miller (Julie Christie) arrives and manages to convince McCabe that she would do a much better job of managing the brothel than he would. Eventually, they become partners and the camp becomes richer than it ever has been before. 

What is interesting about McCabe and Mrs. Miller, is seeing just how much Altman developed as a filmmaker between the early to mid seventies. One can see that between M*A*S*H (1970) and Nashville (1975), a very distinct, personal style of filmmaking began to form. For example, if we are looking at the film merely from a technical point-of-view, one will notice that Altman has several tricks up his sleeve which make filming and recording the dialogue of an ensemble cast easier. He would often multitrack the dialogue of every actor on screen, so that regardless of how many characters were interacting at once, one could hear all of them clearly. He favoured panning, tracking shots and using wide camera lenses to catch all the action at any one time. Of course, that is not to say that Altman was the first filmmaker to use such devices, but at the time this was seen as being quite revolutionary. 

Altman shot most of the film in sequence, and dressed up the carpenters working on the film in early twentieth century costumes, so that as the camp was being built, so was the film's set. Perhaps it has something to do with the fact that Altman was already in his mid-forties by the time he started making films, making him fairly mature and adult minded, and working on television prepared him to make films in a fast, efficient way. Such a style of filmmaking, while not unheard of today, is still rare.

Altman, like many filmmakers at the time, was interested in deconstructing some of the myths of frontier life. His films are not particularly dramatic, or even very exciting, traditionally speaking, but their rambling, loose style gives his work an authenticity. Altman, has never wanted his films to be about a particular thing, instead, he tries to encapsulate everything that would happen in a Western camp; from the contraction of the buildings, to the organisation of the camp's power structure. I suppose one could call these types of films "Revisionist Westerns", which attempt to encapsulate the dirtier, grubbier side of the West. However, I think that is too easy and simple to write off a film like this by simply calling it "revisionist", simply because of how influential a film like this is. One can see the muddier, dirtier settings and see where Dances With Wolves, Unforgiven or Deadwood came from.

As it is set in the early twentieth century, the myth of the West was beginning to fade away into non-existence, allowing Altman to magnify many things that we may take for granted in Westerns and look at them more judgementally, rather than romantically. We can see that a man like McCabe is a dinosaur - a relic long since forgotten — yet we can still look upon him with some pity. Best of all, in its deconstruction, the gunfight at the end of the film is remarkably low-key, with no score or soundtrack to accompany the gun shots.

What is perhaps most interesting about the film, partly due to the large ensemble cast, is how affable and likeable the characters are, even when their very profession should make their actions reprehensible. By which I mean, both McCabe and Mrs. Miller are involved with selling and buying women to whore them out to everyone in the camp. McCabe lies about who he is, pretending to be a gunslinger (or, at least, not contradicting anyone when someone tells him he is) yet they are still somewhat likeable. Eventually, as McCabe gets himself in trouble by refusing to sell the camp to some dangerous men, he finds he will have to put his persona to the test, as people come to challenge him. Mrs. Miller too, has a lot of redeemable qualities, as we see her soften towards the end of the film. Both Warren Beatty and Julie Christie are charming, likeable screen actors, bouncing off each other with well delivered one liners and asides.  

The film is aided by the Leonard Cohen soundtrack, which, while dated, is atmospheric and brooding, complimenting the film's darker, dirtier look on Western archetypes. While Robert Altman would make better films towards the end of his career, such as Gosford Park and The Player, this is still well worth seeking out.

8/10