Film Review | Django Unchained (2013)

Promoting Django Unchained in an interview with Playboy Magazine at the end of last year, Quentin Tarantino was quoted as saying that "directors don't get better as they get older. Usually the worst films in their filmography are those last four at the end. I'm all about my filmography, and one bad film fucks up three good ones". Ironically, if there is any contemporary director whose output disproves this theory, it's Tarantino himself. And if Django Unchained ended up being his last hurrah, then what a spectacular way it would be to sew up Tarantino's beloved filmography.

Django Unchained in many ways feels like the spiritual and natural successor to Tarantino's most recent previous work, Inglourious Basterds, with the two films in conjunction feeling as though they hail a renaissance in the director's career. Tarantino is no longer the young upstart on the scene, the indie filmmaker who reshaped 1990s cinema with the one-two combo of Reservoir Dogs and Pulp Fiction. That's not to say that his films no longer have the impact they once did. Quite the contrary in fact: Inglourious Basterds was so bold in its execution, so finely mastered by the man behind the camera, that it couldn't help but redefine war films for the modern era. Django Unchained does the same for the western genre, arguably with even greater success.

This is hands down Tarantino's finest story yet. From the opening scenes to the final moments, Tarantino the writer knows exactly where he's taking Django as well as every other character involved; Tarantino the director assuredly takes you along with them every step. This is intoxicating cinema, both brutal and beautiful - Django Unchained shows that the jawdropping cinematography of Inglourious Basterds was no one-off. Tarantino may beg, steal and borrow from his encyclopaedic passion for cinema when crafting his tales, but nobody can deny that he is one of the most artistically proficient filmmakers making movies today.

Tarantino's skill for drawing out the very best work from his actors is as robust as ever here. Jamie Foxx as Django is intense and immeasurably cool, developing the character over the film's effortless 165 minutes without putting a foot wrong. Alongside him is Christoph Waltz's dentist-turned-bounty-hunter Dr. King Schultz. It's almost unfair to compare Waltz's performance here to his enigmatic turn as Hans Landa in Inglourious Basterds, so I simply won't. Waltz is once again superb, immediately creating a captivating curiosity of a character who you can't help but warm to. Waltz regularly makes Schultz a genuinely funny character too, relieving some of Django Unchained's inherent heaviness with a perfectly timed quip or a charming demonstration of the Schultz's gift of the gab. The chemistry between Foxx and Waltz is palpable and rich, two fine actors on top of their game brilliantly glancing off one another wonderfully throughout.

If the film's first half belongs to Waltz and Foxx, then its second is firmly in the joint possession of Leonardo DiCaprio and Samuel L. Jackson. DiCaprio's incomparably vile plantation owner Calvin Candie is a villain for the ages, with the actor imbuing his creation with a heady mix of Southern hospitality and monstrous cruelty. Matching DiCaprio in detestabilty is Jackson as Stephen, Candie's aging Uncle Tom of a house slave. His is a performance as captivating as it is ire-inducing, the actor's finest since his last major role in a Tarantino film as Ordell Robbie in 1997's Jackie Brown.

Django Unchained comes together brilliantly as Tarantino's most mature work yet. The director strides assuredly and masterfully into his third decade of filmmaking with fresh ideas and increasingly impressive cinematic style and craft, whilst at the same time making clear that same burning desire and unbridled passion for every element of every moment of his films seen since his earliest work. During the same interview referenced earlier, Tarantino suggested that he may stop directing after his tenth film. If he follows through with this plan, it means we've got three more films to see from him yet. And if Django Unchained is anything to go by, we've potentially got some of the finest cinema ever created to look forward to.

10/10

Fuzz Five | Hollywood Superstars Selling Out And Making It Cool

TV adverts can be short films bringing works of art into your home through your television set. They can also be the bane of your televisual life that drive you from your warm, comfortable sofa or armchair to another room in the house: the kitchen, the bathroom, the shed - any room will do as long as there isn't a nauseating opera singer or an anthropomorphic meerkat being projected into it. When the people we usually expect to be entertaining us on a much bigger screen venture into the world of advertising, it can be a cringeworthy disappointment that they've had to stoop as low as selling us things to keep their career afloat. But, occasionally, the marriage of Hollywood A-listers and TV ads can produce something memorable that brings a smile to your face. Here are five of the best...


1. Kevin Bacon advertising Everything Everywhere (2012)
Gracing tellies across the country at the time of writing to advertise new mobile phone network EE, Kevin Bacon puts in a brilliant self-parodying performance, even playing a loosely-regulated version of "Six Degrees Of Kevin Bacon" with himself and a dog. This could have been awful, but thankfully it's anything but. It's worth seeing just to hear Bacon talking about Tom Hanks and Frank Carson in the same breath.




2. Ray Liotta advertising Heineken (2004)
I've never understood why Ray Liotta never seems to have made it as a genuinely big name in cinema. His CV includes major roles in films such as Goodfellas and Hannibal, but they share space with credits in Operation Dumbo Drop and Wild Hogs. For me, Liotta has proven himself as a talented actor, and his turn as a humorously menacing Heineken representative in these adverts from 2004 just goes even further in proving that. If I thought disgruntled Liotta could be knocking on my door, I'd make sure I finished my pint too.




3. Samuel L. Jackson advertising Barclays Bank (2002)
There's no question that Samuel L. Jackson is one of the consummate talents of modern cinema with two decades worth of fantastic films under his belt. And in these adverts for Barclays from 2002, Jackson shows that he can make everything  from nonsensical stories about buying shoes to quotes from Shakespeare as cool as a Tarantino monologue. "If a dollar was a chicken, would a chicken be evil?" Jackson asks making you feel like Brett in Pulp Fiction. Go on, disagree with him. I dare you, I double dare you.










4. Willem Dafoe advertising Birds Eye (2010 to present)
This article's most surreal entry (which considering Samuel L. Jackson's effort is pretty impressive in itself) sees Willem Dafoe lending his voice to a polar bear puppet who apparently lives in people's freezers. Dafoe as Clarence (the polar bear's name, according to Birds Eye) is arguably the most surprising actor and role to appear on this list - a glance down Dafoe's IMDb page shows only a handful of TV credits to his name, most of which are one-off appearances and cameos - but the sinister, unsettling quality he brings to Clarence is something to relish. It's an advertising stroke of genius. When a creepy animal puppet says "I'm watching you" in Norman Osborn's voice, you take notice.




5. Christopher Lloyd advertising Nike Air Mag trainers (2011)
Okay, when Nike launched a limited run of the shoes Marty McFly wears in 2015 Hill Valley, how else could they sell them without a Back To The Future tribute ad? Everything about this advert is brilliant, from the Lone Pine Mall setting, to NBA player Kevin Durant spouting line after line from the incomparable trilogy, to the date the trainers will be available with "power laces". It's even directed by Frank Marshall, producer of the original films. But the highlight of the whole thing is undoubtedly Christopher Lloyd returning to the iconic role of "Doc" Brown. So sit back, click play, enjoy, and repeat. In (almost) the words of Huey Lewis, that's the power of Lloyd.

Film Review | Jackie Brown (1997)

Jackie Brown is arguably Tarantino's least celebrated film. It was never going to have an easy time, following on from the overwhelming mainstream and critical success of Pulp Fiction which in turn had generated greater attention in the director's first film, Reservoir Dogs. Tarantino had set himself up to incredibly high - maybe even impossibly high - expectations, so no matter how he attempted to meet them there was inevitably going to be at least some of his audience who would be underwhelmed by his third film.

Jackie Brown tells the story of the title character (Pam Grier), an air hostess who helps weapons dealer and gangster Ordell Robbie (Samuel L. Jackson) smuggle money in and out of the USA. After ATF agent Ray Nicolette (Michael Keaton) catches Jackie in the act, she becomes further embroiled in Ordell's business and a sting operation for Nicolette to arrest the gangster, whilst at the same time striking up a relationship with bail bondsman Max Cherry (Robert Forster).

In all honesty, I cannot understand the negative criticism levelled at Jackie Brown. It's almost certainly Tarantino's most "un-Tarantino-esque" film, not containing as many of the director's hallmarks (at least not as overtly). The narrative is by and large linear, and the dialogue is less flagrantly audacious than that heard throughout Tarantino's earlier works. It may be the absence of these features that lead fans of the director to be overly critical of the film; you don't have to scratch the surface too deep to see that Tarantino has created cinematic gold once again.

That Jackie Brown isn't as endlessly quotable as either of the writer and director's previous films doesn't mean that this isn't another stellar script from Tarantino. The intricate story builds perfectly throughout the two-and-a-half hour running time towards a gripping finale and a tense and emotional epilogue. The script is imbued with a subtle pizazz that often rings truer than the poetic style heard in Tarantino's previous films. This is potentially the director's most mature and balanced work.

Tarantino again garners a wealth of top-notch performances from his ensemble cast. Once again, it's hard to pick out one actor above the rest. Grier brings confidence and authenticity to the title role, with Forster's turn opposite her imbued brilliantly with introversion and subtlety. The attraction that builds between Jackie and Max is incredibly well-handled; theirs is a genuine and covert affection that only rises to the surface once or twice throughout, and is the most real romantic relationship seen in any of Tarantino's films. Robert De Niro is reliably excellent as Ordell's criminal associate Louis Gara, again bringing an understated feel to the role. In contrast to Forster's Max, De Niro constantly lets you know that there is fire burning beneath Louis' sometimes bumbling character making his performance captivating yet at times superbly uncomfortable.

Jackson is perfect throughout, giving his best performance of any of his films. Jules Winnfield may be Jackson's most iconic and quotable role, but it is through Ordell Robbie that Jackson truly shows his undeniable brilliance as an actor. Watching Ordell calmly and precisely pull on his leather gloves before preparing to do away with whomever he has deemed necessary to dispatch sends chills down your spine, which is testament to both Jackson's acting and Tarantino's direction. Ordell is  simultaneously calculating and cold-hearted, charismatic and despicable, but always feels completely authentic.

Simply put, Jackie Brown is a film of quality and maturity through and through. If Reservoir Dogs is a shot of tequila and Pulp Fiction a strong, carefully mixed cocktail, then Jackie Brown is a smooth sipping whiskey over ice to be enjoyed slowly. It's Tarantino at his most restrained, but also his most refined. An exercise in subtlety and expertly crafted cinema. The film stands incredibly well on its own, but it also rounds off Tarantino's opening trilogy of works superbly; together with his first two films, Jackie Brown eloquently argues for Tarantino to be considered as one of the greatest cinematic writers and directors of all time.

10/10

Film Review | Pulp Fiction (1994)

In Reservoir Dogs, his feature debut, Quentin Tarantino laid down in raw, unbridled fashion what he is about as a film-maker. Pulp Fiction was his chance to refine this style and prove his first film was not just a fluke. History shows that he more than managed this: Pulp Fiction received seven Oscar nominations, with a win for Best Screenplay, and is regularly hailed as both a cinematic milestone and Tarantino's defining work. Eighteen years on, it's still not hard to see why.

The film relates, in nonlinear style, several different stories set in Los Angeles linked by the characters appearing within them, most prominently mob hitmen Vincent Vega (John Travolta) and Jules Winnfield (Samuel L. Jackson), their gangster boss Marcellus Wallace (Ving Rhames), his wife Mia (Uma Thurman) and boxer Butch Coolidge (Bruce Willis).

Pulp Fiction is such a comprehensive success, first and foremost, because of the talent on show here. There  isn't a performance within the film which isn't excellent, and the cast play off each other superbly. It's unfair to single out any individual turn over the others, but there are a few which are so iconic that it's hard not to: this is the film that revitalised Travolta's deteriorating career and that made Jackson a renowned and respected Hollywood star; it also allowed Willis to truly prove he was capable of more than just action roles, his turn as Coolidge being one of the most varied and multi-layered he has ever given, and potentially his best performance in any film. Ironically, the only performance that truly sticks out (although not enough to spoil proceedings) is Tarantino's cameo as Jimmy - his n-word laden speech to Jules and Vincent when we first see him is still cringeworthy, and mainly serves as a reminder as to why Tarantino moved behind the camera in the first place. Thankfully, Harvey Keitel soon shows up to undo any damage with a performance that desperately begs the question as to why the man never made it as a genuinely big star.

The rest of Tarantino's work here is so exemplary that even his dodgy bit part can be wholly forgiven. Part of the charm of Reservoir Dogs is the rough-and-ready feel to much of it; Tarantino showed what he could do with a relatively small budget. With Pulp Fiction, Tarantino had the chance to show off a lot more with a studio behind him. The cinematography here is superb, with every shot considered and crafted to perfection. The director also shows ambition in using more abstract elements in his work - watch Mia draw a square in the air when describing Vincent's attitude, only for it to appear in front of her then disappear with a cartoonish pop. It's kitsch, it's unexpected, it's brilliant.

Tarantino's script fizzes and crackles throughout, his characters speaking in a poetry which oozes cool and perfectly fits the world Tarantino creates within the film. From Jackson's Bible-quoting mobster to Thurman's character saying "disco" where most would use the word "bingo", Pulp Fiction offers some of the finest, coolest writing ever heard in a film. Tarantino imbues his scripts with both contemporary fire and retro ice, making his films simultaneously modern and nostalgic. Pulp Fiction balances this effortlessly, arguably better than any of his other works, giving the film a timeless quality and allowing it to age beautifully.

Pulp Fiction is an incredibly ambitious work and succeeds comprehensively at everything it attempts. It's a film which can be endlessly analysed, interpreted and critiqued, but just taken as a piece of cinema it is purely and simply a masterclass in film-making. There is not a part of this film that doesn't work. Not only that, it cemented Tarantino as one of the defining cinematic talents of the 1990s and showcased both the scope and imagination of his talent.

10/10

Film Review | Soul Men (2008)

Soul Men is precisely the sum of its parts, and in that respect it's really quite lucky, as without Samuel L. Jackson and Bernie Mac in the lead roles this would undoubtedly have sunk without a trace. Would it have deserved to? Possibly not. But whilst the rest of the film isn't awful by any means, it regularly feels no more than ordinary.

Jackson and Mac are Louis Hinds and Floyd Henderson respectively, two retired soul musicians who haven't spoken to each other in over twenty years. When Marcus Hooks (John Legend), the former lead singer of their group, dies, the two uncomfortably reunite to take part in a memorial concert for him, travelling cross-country together by car to do so.

Jackson and Mac pretty much make the film what it is, with performances which are solid if not exactly challenging for them in many respects - Jackson is essentially a toned down version of Ordell Robbie, his character from 1997's Jackie Brown, and Mac is for the most part his own stand-up persona. There is chemistry between the two, with Floyd and Louis' banter going back and forth pleasingly throughout the film. The soul music performances are also enjoyable, and an impromptu number by the pair stranded by the side of a desert highway with the car radio turned up is one of the film's highlights.

The music used throughout the film is also a strength, with the original compositions pleasingly faithful to the soul and Motown era and the other songs on the film's soundtrack selected with care.

Story-wise, the film is pretty simple, lacking depth in a number of areas. There are a couple of poor choices - an attempt to develop one character into a more credible villain, for example, falls flat on its face. Things feel like they run out of steam as we head into the final act, with some muddled plotting and actions that seem either out of character or just plain stupid.

The key issue is that of character depth and development, in that both are woefully lacking. Floyd and Louis are supposed to have ignored each other through hatred for over two decades, and yet the transition to them cooperating feels far too simplistic. Both characters don't really go anywhere from start to finish either; they're both pretty much the same at the end of the film as they were are the start, just in a different geographical location. 

Characters in the supporting cast are about as deep as a paddling pool with a leak, receiving even less development than the two leads. When Cleo (Sharon Leal) joins the two men on their journey after they rescue her from a life of spousal abuse, her transition to backing singer is almost insulting in its ease. Others, such as Adam Herschman's Phillip, just feel one-note and lazy.

Despite these faults, the film is still enjoyable and entertaining, thanks mostly to the natural ability of Jackson and Mac. Ironically for a film entitled Soul Men, it's a fundamental lack of soul in the story and the characters that ultimately drag it down.

6/10

Film Review | Avengers Assemble (2012)

Definitely a candidate for "film with most prequels", Avengers Assemble (or simply The Avengers if you don't live in the UK, apparently retitled to distinguish it from the less-than-reviled unrelated 1998 film starring Ralph Fiennes and Uma Thurman) had an awful lot of build-up, anticipation and hype to live up to. There were any number of ways the film could have misfired, and should it do so it could have been a fatal blow for Marvel Studios, as pretty much all of their recent output has been building up to this one film. Thankfully, AA manages to just about live up to those incredibly high expectations.

The film sees Tony Stark (Robert Downey Jr.), Steve Rogers (Chris Evans), Dr. Bruce Banner (Mark Ruffalo) and Thor (Chris Hemsworth), a.k.a. Iron Man, Captain America, The Incredible Hulk and, er, Thor, come together for the first time as superhero team The Avengers to take on Asgardian baddie (and Thor's brother) Loki (Tom Hiddleston) as he leads the other-dimensional Chitauri in an invasion of Earth.

The key to AA's success is not just in bringing together four well-known superheroes with their own discrete franchises - films such as Alien vs. Predator and Freddy vs. Jason have proven that simply throwing successful characters together does not automatically a successful movie make - but that it brings them together in such a comprehensively successful way. The way in which writer and director Joss Whedon has woven a seamless tapestry of the Old World stylings of Thor, the World War Two era characteristics of Captain America, and the modern day bearings of Iron Man and The Hulk (the last two also coming with their own idiosyncrasies) is impressive in itself. The whole thing just works, and all the better because Whedon is acutely aware of the ridiculousness of some of the concepts with which he is working. Steve Rogers' outfit is always going look the silliest, Thor is never going to slip unnoticed into 21st Century America, and Hulk can't help but be a not-so-jolly green giant. But Whedon works this to his advantage, gleaning some of the film's funniest moments from it. "You don't know what you're dealing with" says Thor to Iron Man when they first meet. "Shakespeare In The Park?" Stark quips back faster than a lightning bolt from Mjolnir.

Whedon's script isn't light on comedy, with moments throughout which aren't just amusing, but downright laugh-out-loud funny. The exchanges between the four superheroes and their conflicting mentalities produces some incredibly human humour, perfectly crafted by Whedon's razor-sharp writing. The director also knows his way around physical humour, equally well-crafted and perfectly placed within the film. One exchange of blows between Hulk and Loki is especially memorable for all the right reasons.

The performances from the whole cast are a delight. Downey Jr., Evans and Hemsworth slip back into their already established characters pleasingly well. Ruffalo deserves huge credit for making Bruce Banner/Hulk his own character after two misfired attempts at bringing the rage monster to the big screen in the last decade. Ruffalo largely ignores the character created by Edward Norton in the most recent 2008 film, and to good effect; his Banner is a paranoid genius haunted by the alter-ego he refers to only as "the other guy", and that Ruffalo establishes a character of depth and sympathy so quickly within the film reaffirms him as a genuine cinematic talent who has until recently often gone overlooked.

It's also important that Avengers Assemble never becomes about one superhero and his sidekicks. It would have been very easy to make this "Iron Man 3 (featuring Thor, Hulk and Cap)" considering Downey Jr.'s popularity and Iron Man having had two films to the other members' one (or in the case of Ruffalo's version of the Hulk, arguably none). But each plays an equal part, feeling as though each has not only their own strengths, but also shortcomings. Each character also feels as though they develop throughout the film, with each becoming more rounded as they develop as a team.

The supporting cast cannot be overlooked here either. Samuel L. Jackson is predictably excellent as Nick Fury, fleshing out a character who has been limited largely to cameos in Marvel Studios' output thusfar. Tom Hiddleston brings menace and insanity to Loki, transforming him into a genuine evil force to be reckoned with, something I feel he fell short of when introduced in 2011's Thor. Clark Gregg returning as Agent Phil Coulson is a joy in all his scenes, a wonderfully human counterpoint to the superpowered multi-dimensional larger-than-life characters surrounding him. Black Widow is surely one of the most well-developed female characters in a superhero film, making her introduction in Iron Man 2 feel somewhat one-note, thanks here to Scarlett Johansson's pleasing performance and Whedon's smart scripting and direction. Her relationship with S.H.I.E.L.D. agent Clint Barton (Jeremy Renner) is established well and is hopefully something that will be developed further in future Marvel Studios outings.

Avengers Assemble is not without a handful of imperfections. The good versus evil story is a little too by-the-numbers, and the Chitauri led by Loki feel somewhat generic at times. But these are minor niggles in what is a superbly crafted superhero action film. With a run time of nearly two-and-a-half hours the film could have become a real slog, but I enjoyed every minute. The action sequences are brilliantly realised, never feeling overly busy or confusing (take note, Michael Bay) - one particular unbroken tracking shot within the final battle taking in all four superheroes battling against Loki's invading forces is truly breathtaking.

Avengers Assemble is ultimately as good as anyone could have hoped the film would realistically be, and deserves to go down in cinematic history as one of the best comic book films ever made. It's equal to the sum of its parts, and the parts within it are pretty damn awesome. It takes the best parts of the films which led up to it and combines them together in a genuinely wonderful way.

But perhaps, most of all, the film is a success because it doesn't try to be something it's not. Giving the characters here a gritty and realistic reboot would most likely produce a film of pretension and silliness. The closest we've seen to that in the Marvel Universe is 2008's Incredible Hulk, which for the most part just didn't work. Christopher Nolan proved in 2008's The Dark Knight that taking a comic book character, his allies and adversaries, into a quasi-real-world setting can produce something truly outstanding; Whedon in 2012 has proven that it's possible to come very close to that level of success whilst at the same time wearing your fantastical comic book credentials as proudly as Captain America wears his star-spangled suit.

9/10