The dialogue sparkles and there are some very funny lines. Gable, perpetually smoking, is charming but perhaps not quite as charming as the film believes he is.
Where The Hucksters really excels is with its quirky, witty outlook. At one point Victor goes to buy a “sincere” necktie. At another point, he throws money out of the window. And Deborah Kerr’s cute daughter is hilarious.
Trying to come to terms with her bizarre new reality, she spends a few days in her childhood world, with her family and school friends, and faces some fundamental dilemmas. Can she change her life and avoid the mistakes she knows she is destined to make? Should she break up with Charlie, who seems to love her so much but who will later betray her? What can she do differently now that she has all the knowledge and wisdom of her 1985 self and perspective on what really matters? The film explores these questions in a way that’s always humorous and often profound.
The 1980s-to-1950s/60s time-travel plot gives this plenty in common with Back to the Future (1985), but I like the fact that this film doesn’t bother with the technical “rules” about changing the future by interfering with the past. Quite the opposite: at one point, Peggy Sue gives Charlie the lyrics to a song she says she wrote. It turns out to be “She Loves You” by The Beatles (which would be a hit in 1963).
Given such a warm and intelligent script, Kathleen Turner gives the performance of a lifetime, perfectly conveying all the excitement and confusion of what she’s going through. Nicolas Cage is extremely charming, as the role demands, and he has a strange, goofy appeal that’s a result of his huge charisma.
It’s incredibly romantic, but that romance is all the deeper and more affecting because of the interwoven threads of hope and regret that run through it.
Sam Riley plays Sal Paradise (Kerouac’s semi-fictionalised version of himself), chasing experiences, intensity and worldly wisdom as he travels back and forth across the USA in the late 1940s. Like everyone else in the story, he’s obsessed with Dean Moriarty (played by Garrett Hedlund and a fictional version of Neal Cassady), who seems to live wilder and more freely than anyone.
The film has some – but perhaps not enough – of the book’s restless energy. The character of Carlo Marx (played by Tom Sturridge and a fictional version of Allen Ginsberg) may be the best representation of Kerouac’s endless hunger for life.
Kristen Stewart is excellent as Marylou, given more prominence here than in the book. Kirsten Dunst is always strong and she’s believable as Dean’s neglected wife Camille. Amy Adams has a cameo as Jane, wife of Old Bull Lee (fictionalised version of William Burroughs), and Bull Lee himself is played by Viggo Mortensen. These are all wise casting decisions.
Despite lots of impressive elements I found this adaptation somehow unsatisfying, perhaps because the book meant a lot to me. Ultimately, it just made me want to read the book again.
As the drama unfolds and the crisis rapidly accelerates within the claustrophobic interiors of the craft, the two captains have to navigate their own prickly relationship as well as the relationships they have with their men, who clearly favour Polenin’s way of doing things.
It’s an intelligent film that continually surprises. There are disturbing scenes that change the dynamic from intense Cold War thriller to compassionate human drama.
The two leads are excellent and exude charisma, even if their Russian accents sometimes come and go.
It’s a taut drama that steadily builds tension. We know that disaster is on the way, so there’s added suspense in waiting for that moment. I especially liked the Mission Control sections, which showed how much of an ingenious team effort the rescue attempt was.
The casting and acting is spot-on, and makes this film stand out:
• Tom Hanks plays Jim Lovell, from whose memoir this was adapted. Hanks does his usual thing, but it works. His almost bland demeanour seems to match the highly sought after brave-but-calm profile of that of a well-adjusted astronaut.
• Kevin Bacon is perfectly acceptable as backup Command Module pilot Jack Swigert even though this actor is often now seen as a figure of fun.
• Bill Paxton is solid as Lunar Module pilot Fred Haise.
• Kathleen Quinlan is Lovell’s wife, trying to hold it together at home with the kids. The “worried wife” role can’t be a rewarding one for any actor, and too often that part is underwritten (see Deepwater Horizon or The Untouchables), but Quinlan convincingly portrays someone whose personal nightmare becomes a drama watched by the entire world.
• Ed Harris is impressive as the tough but compassionate Flight Director Gene Kranz.
• Gary Sinise is excellent as pilot Ken Mattingly, who misses out on the mission itself but helps the crew by mirroring their predicament in a NASA flight simulator.
I liked the fact that in the film, as in real life, it wasn’t about luck or heroism or faith or fate. It was science that saved them – a triumph of knowledge and rational thought. A lesson to be learned there for all of us.
What “plot” there is focuses on the interconnected stories of several characters, but primarily on a retired composer (Michael Caine) and his film director friend of 60 years (Harvey Keitel), who is attempting to write a final masterpiece. Rachel Weisz is the composer’s daughter and assistant, while Jane Fonda plays an elderly actress and Paul Dano is an actor only known for a novelty role as a robot.
The film is a sort of meditation on growing old and what that process does to relationships of various sorts. Fittingly, the pace is glacially slow and that aspect means it certainly isn’t going to be to everyone’s taste. Likewise, the fairly bleak outlook has little good news to offer about reaching the age of 80. The ugly aesthetic doesn’t help much, either.
There are surreal, whimsical moments and flashes of humour. When Rachel Weisz’s husband leaves her for singer Paloma Faith (played by herself), we see the latter in a pop video sequence that turns out to be a dream. Another scene depicts a vision in which Harvey Keitel sees all the actresses he’s ever worked with, standing in a field.
As the film progresses, at its own particular rate, the threads begin to knit together and greater depths are revealed. “Emotions are all we’ve got,” says Keitel at one point.
Impressive, but difficult to love.
Huge snake creatures appear and terrorise the city, as do high-tech warriors, flying dragons and magical balls of light. None of it is really explained, but it keeps moving so quickly that your questions are quickly replaced by new questions. It would probably seem like a masterpiece if you were a nine-year-old boy. Occasionally the monsters recall the silly creatures shown in the Battle of Naboo in Star Wars Episode I, which is distracting, but the CGI effects are fairly sophisticated and worth seeing if you enjoy that sort of thing.
The script goes beyond cliché into a surreal world of its own. The plot certainly doesn’t bother with logic. Anything can happen – and it does. The acting is merely functional. There’s no suspense whatsoever. Eventually you give up asking “What?!” and just enjoy the mildly engaging monsters-vs.-copters showdown in the knowledge that it will all be over soon enough.
It’s not a bad premise at all, but the problem is that it’s simply not very funny for the first half. It improves considerably in the second half as the surreal ghost story resolves into a romantic comedy. But throughout the story, Gervais seems somewhat miscast and he’s far less funny when he’s reading other people’s lines.
Kristen Wiig is entertaining as a surgeon who’s preoccupied with her fake tan, and the brief scenes with her tend to come alive.
The film works round to a satisfying conclusion despite some annoying music (romantic scenes are more affecting with instrumental tracks than with someone singing “earnestly”), but it’s uneven and could have been so much better.
Period detail of the 1970s is handled well. There’s a colour filter applied that cleverly makes it look how we seem to remember that decade. Fast edits and low angles bring out the maximum drama in a sport that was often surprisingly dull to watch on TV. Howard has the luxury of cramming in all the good bits and omitting all the tedium.
The two leads are both excellent. Hemsworth’s posh English accent is remarkably convincing given that he later came unstuck with his Nantucket accent for In the Heart of the Sea (also directed by Ron Howard). Especially strong is Alexandra Maria Lara as Lauda’s wife. Rarely has a face been so expressive.
I always enjoy biopics. Even when they don't work, they are usually interesting, but this one really does work – and for both protagonists. That said, a decent documentary of the same events would probably be more fascinating. Only one criticism: James Hunt’s wife, played by Olivia Wilde, has a storyline that just peters out – almost as if a scene was cut by mistake.
Corbin Allred is compelling as the shellshocked, sleep-deprived soldier kept going by faith alone. What makes the film more intriguing is learning that it was funded (and even acted) by members of the Church of Latter-day Saints (a.k.a. the Mormons) in order to put across their message. Impressively, it does this without that message becoming overbearing. Plus, the basic idea that belief in God will help you through dire situations doesn’t tie it to any one religion. It could just as well be promoting Catholicism or C of E Christianity.
Two things reduce the impact a little. Firstly, the excessive use of colour filters becomes distracting – especially when the greyish tones turn to a sepia shade and then back again. Secondly, the Englishman (awkwardly played by an American, Kirby Heyborne) has a silly accent and his slightly shifty, antagonistic manner is never explained. Why not give him a personality that they (and we, the audience) could relate to?
Those points aside, there’s plenty of dramatic tension and the character development between the four main soldiers is entirely believable. The winter storms look convincingly cold and the bleak, barely survivable conditions are expertly evoked.
It’s formulaic in the extreme. Britney seems natural enough as an actor, but the script has no sparkle and the plot offers no surprises. I hoped they’d rob a bank or encounter a zombie apocalypse or something, but no such excitement occurs. Also, her dreary companions Kit (Zoe Saldana) and Mimi (Taryn Manning) are presumably there to make her look better. Her parents are played by Kim Cattrall and Dan Aykroyd, but it’s a struggle to believe they are the actual mum and dad of Ms. Spears.
Crossroads tries to deal with issues such as teen pregnancy, the pressures of gender roles and the value of family, but the abundance of cliché means that it does so only superficially. It’s designed as fan fodder (you can almost hear the focus groups behind it), and in that sense it achieves everything it sets out to.
The remainder of the film details the couple’s quest to be together despite the hugely powerful efforts of these remarkable controllers of destiny. It sounds complicated, but it’s not. You just have to accept certain elements:
• The men of the Bureau can effortlessly travel between locations by opening certain doors that act as inter-dimensional portals.
• These men gain their power by wearing hats.
• Their powers are diminished by the presence of water.
• It’s all overseen by “the Chairman”.
Based on a Philip K. Dick story, the premise is terrific but I knew from the outset that it would be almost impossible to resolve the plot in a satisfactory way. How could anyone live in opposition to such formidable forces of control? Sure enough, the ending did seem a bit of a cop-out, but I can’t see how else it could have concluded.
It works as an exciting thriller with sci-fi and conspiracy-theorist elements. The idea that you can glimpse behind the curtain of reality and see what’s really going on is a hugely appealing one. I loved the electronic “books” that showed the various paths of reality evolving and redrawing themselves in real time.
Damon and Blunt have great chemistry and the film works primarily because the story details their romance – meeting, being separated, coming together again and facing the future as a couple. In fact, Blunt is so charming that I wished there was more of the pair simply chatting, flirting and getting to know each other. This would have made for an entertaining and touching narrative in its own right.
Anthony Mackie is easy to like as Harry Mitchell, the most sympathetic member of the mystery organisation. Terence Stamp is appropriately creepy as Thompson, a senior official of the Bureau.
The film tackles big themes of freewill vs. determinism, and whether there is any higher power looking over us. The Bureau is presented as a God-like force, and this is meant to be sinister. But then the idea of an all-powerful deity able to control everything we do is surely just as alarming, yet this is accepted as normal by millions of people worldwide.
It gives you a lot to think about, even if it ultimately cannot completely deliver on its own brilliance.
It’s an engaging story, but a few flaws stop it being remarkable:
1. The very “1980s” music by Ennio Morricone is impressive in places, but is sometimes used jarringly. For example, a crucial encounter at the Canadian border is accompanied by “adventure” music that completely undercuts any dramatic tension that has been built up. I think of this as “Steven Spielberg syndrome” – see Jaws.
2. There are points at which it seems like an episode of The A-Team in the slightly sentimental way it assembles a gang of diverse “good guys against the world” – even though this apparently really did happen, albeit with a slightly larger gang. The fact that one of them is a nerdy accountant who conveniently happens to be handy with a shotgun makes it a little harder to take seriously.
3. There’s something awkward and not-quite-right about Patricia Clarkson as Kevin Costner’s wife. Or maybe her role is just underwritten. Plus, the way the script (by David Mamet) focuses on Eliot’s loyalty to his wife and daughter leads you to think they will end up playing a greater part in the story (kidnapped or murdered) than they ever do.
4. The motivation of Jimmy Malone (Connery) is unclear. Why does he risk everything to help Costner? Why is he so morally upstanding when all the other policemen are crooked? And what’s going on with his Irish-Scottish-American accent?
These points aside, it’s highly enjoyable. De Niro is reassuringly nasty as Capone, gaining weight especially for the role, and Kevin Costner surprises by being highly watchable. Plus, there’s a particularly dynamic scene set in Union Station that involves a mother with a pram being caught in a crossfire.
Like I, Tonya, it explores how a desperate, manipulative mother can push to have her child succeed in sport – whatever the personal cost. Unlike that film, it doesn’t employ tricksy narrative devices or self-conscious fourth-walling and so it’s much more affecting as a result.
Mark Wahlberg and Christian Bale are tremendous as the half-brothers driven apart, with the latter giving the intense, twitchy performance of a lifetime. His eyes say so much, and you never doubt that you’re seeing a real drug addict. Amy Adams is hugely sympathetic as the girlfriend who seems like Micky’s only hope and who wants to save him from his overbearing mother, terrifyingly brought to life by Melissa Leo. His horrible gang of catty sisters will also unfortunately stay with me.
In some ways it’s a terribly sad story, but it’s also a rousing one owing to the way it charts Micky’s rise to prominence within the boxing world. The fight sequences are difficult to watch, but then I could never understand a “sport” that involves punching someone in the head and causing brain damage.
This sci-fi thriller has similarities with 1984, The Hunger Games, Elysium and countless other dystopian stories. Its lack of originality wouldn’t have been a problem, though, if it had probed deeper into exploring the ethical issues it merely touches on. Unfortunately, it never feels very substantial.
Ewan McGregor is as bland as ever as “Lincoln Six-Echo”. He can read his lines as well as anyone, but what else does he bring to the role? I found it bizarre to see him once again looking at a cloning facility, as he did in Star Wars Episode II. Scarlett Johansson (“Jordan Two-Delta”) isn’t given much of an opportunity to act, since most of the film involves the pair of them running around or being shot at. Sean Bean is OK as the supposedly sinister Dr. Merrick, while Steve Buscemi is likewise passable as a friend who helps the protagonists escape.
The relationships in the film aren’t developed satisfactorily. A couple of scenes have fun with the clones’ naivety (they’ve only been educated to the level of 15-year-olds and know nothing of human society), but others allow them to be improbably worldly when the narrative demands it. As such, the plot only works if you don’t ask too many questions.
The back of the DVD box warns: “Contains strong language, moderate violence and intense action”. It doesn’t warn about the excessive product placement. It’s intriguing that viewers needed to be warned about “intense action”, which surely is a selling point – especially since those sequences are expertly done. But maybe that’s how they justified the “12” certificate – action as a substitute for violence, or as a way of concealing it.
Visually, it’s striking – the colour has been ramped up and there’s a hyper-reality about the look of it. Yet there’s something missing. The Island hints at making wider points about social control but ends up sidestepping moral complexities to focus on exciting chase scenes instead.
Jack Nicholson is as fascinating to watch as always, and expertly portrays the bemused, slightly shell-shocked widower. Kathy Bates is excellent as the rather scary mother of his future son-in-law.
It’s a fairly depressing film, and deliberately so. It’s to be respected for not offering any trite or easy resolutions to this lonely 66-year-old’s predicament in the way that a more obvious narrative might have done. But a few more laughs would have helped since a lot of it is genuinely painful to sit through.
The film brilliantly balances a standard thriller with a full-on study of another culture within the USA. It does this with real empathy. There’s a lengthy sequence in which you see a traditional “barn raising”, a custom demonstrating how the community chooses to work collectively to assist its members.
Ford is his usual charming self, effortlessly watchable as ever, but Kelly McGillis (later in the woeful Top Gun) is the real revelation. She manages to seem simultaneously innocent, naive, frightened and smoulderingly passionate. Her very expressive face conveys so much. There’s a hugely romantic scene in which she and Ford dance to Sam Cooke’s “(What a) Wonderful World”. It expresses her joy, delight and nervousness so well.
There’s also a timeless quality to the film (it doesn’t seem “1980s” at all) that means it holds up extremely well today.
Ultimately, it’s touching and even profound. A treasure.
Robert Redford and Debra Winger are New York lawyers investigating the case of an artist’s work that may or may not have been destroyed in a fire. Terence Stamp is the shifty art dealer mixed up in a fraudulent insurance scheme. And Daryl Hannah is the artist’s daughter who wants the painting her dad dedicated to her – if indeed it even survived.
There’s something remarkable about the way the film sprawls all over the place and yet still works. Redford and Winger have real chemistry and build up a lot of good-natured warmth as their relationship develops. Both are hugely appealing. The former never seems to age. The latter has a lovely voice and an irresistible smile. Maybe they should have made more films together.
Daryl Hannah is a little troubling. She’s meant to be an edgy performance artist, but she’s so sleepy and noncommittal that she seems barely present. You’d expect some dynamism or passion in someone who’s trying to push boundaries. But when you see her “performing” her “art”, it’s a ludicrous and unintentionally amusing affair involving light projections, photos of herself, objects bursting into flame and tape recordings of her voice. A clunky mess. Laurie Anderson she is not. The film would have worked better if this character was just a regular person wanting what was rightfully hers rather than an “enigma”. Or maybe they just had the wrong actor for the part.
Another oddity is the chirpy music, which sometimes seems misjudged for certain scenes. But because the mood and tone keep changing as we race from one genre to another, it’s possibly just struggling to keep up. At the very least, you can see that the soundtrack had to be varied.
But these are minor flaws. I really liked the fact that it’s so unusual. Plus, the climax is genuinely exciting and the comedy never eclipses the drama. Quirky, rewarding and somehow fascinating.
The drama is fairly compelling. On a couple of occasions it lapses into sensationalism – most notably when a lift plunges in its shaft and animated drops of blood superimposed on the screen indicate that everyone in it died. But the film is generally impressive in terms of the special effects of the time (a bursting dam, burning buildings, semi-collapsed structures) and it successfully conveys the huge scale of the disaster. It feels “real” in a way that The Poseidon Adventure never does.
Charlton Heston is the former sporting hero who has to save work colleagues and his father-in-law. Geneviève Bujold is the young mum who Heston has fallen for. Will he save her or his semi-estranged wife (an oddly unconvincing Ava Gardner)? George Kennedy plays a tough, cynical cop who proves decent enough to do the right thing. Richard Roundtree is a motorcycle stunt driver whose potential is never quite realised in the plot. (I kept expecting him to have to leap across a crack in the ground or cycle through a ring of fire, but his story just peters out.) There are also roles for Victoria Principal (of Dallas fame), who is nearly the victim of a machine-gunning predator, and Walther Matthau, who gets to be a comedy drunk. It’s not clear why they felt the need for comedy in a fairly serious film.
Gripping and suspenseful, this is well worth seeing.
The film is poignant and touching. There are glimmers of romance between the pair, but it’s to the film’s huge credit that it resists that obvious option and instead focuses on the two characters and their far less predictable kind of relationship. Murray and Johansson each give the performance of a lifetime, perfectly handling the empathy and restraint evident in the sensitive script.
Coppola creates a strange and lovely atmosphere, understanding that what goes unsaid can be more potent than the words actually uttered, and each successive scene builds upon that. By the end, you feel profoundly engaged with these characters in a way that doesn’t usually happen when you watch a film.
There are too many perfect scenes to mention, but my favourite is the karaoke episode. Charlotte sings “Brass in Pocket” (The Pretenders) and Bob sings “More Than This” (Roxy Music). In each case, they seem to be using the song to communicate something to each other.
A really special film. One of the very best.
Harry Tasker (Arnold Schwarzenegger) works as a secret agent for the Omega Sector intelligence agency. His wife Helen (Jamie Lee Curtis) knows nothing about this and believes he’s a dull computer salesman. When Harry suspects her of having an affair, he contrives an elaborate scheme to fulfil her desperate desire for adventure and excitement but ends up accidentally dragging her into a dangerous terrorist plot led by Salim Abu Aziz (Art Malik).
The film balances witty observation with genuinely exciting action. Discussing the villain, one of the teams says “They call him the Sand Spider.” “Why?” asks the head of Omega Sector (played by Charlton Heaton). “Probably because it sounds scary,” is the response.
The ending is one of the most spectacular action sequences I have seen (Cameron is incredibly skilled at this), and the Harrier jump-jet sequence at the climax is absolutely heart-stopping.
Coppola also brings subtle, dry wit into the story, which is impressive given the macabre subject matter. One scene has the strict religious mother trying to burn the girls’ vinyl records (Kiss, Aerosmith, etc) only to nearly choke everyone with the toxic fumes they produce.
There are clever, tricksy moments that shouldn’t work but somehow do anyway. At one point, an eye “twinkle” is added when Lux (Kirsten Dunst) smiles. At another point, we see “through” Lux’s dress to reveal that she’s written her new boyfriend’s name on her underwear.
It also works as a teen story, and scenes such as the Homecoming ball – or the romantic moments when the boys and girls play each other records down the phone – would have been compelling as a youth drama in their own right, even without the disturbing undercurrents.
James Woods and Kathleen Turner are excellent as the parents struggling to comprehend the nightmarish situation that grips their family, while Kirsten Dunst is especially strong as the most outgoing of the daughters.
At the heart of the film is a mystery: the five girls are an enigma that the film wisely doesn’t even try to explain. And the eerie ambience is perfectly captured by Air’s original soundtrack.
Trivia: it’s set in Grosse Pointe, Michigan, just like Grosse Pointe Blank.
Drama directed by Sofia Coppola, the brilliant talent behind Lost in Translation, Marie Antoinette and The Virgin Suicides.
Johnny Marco (Stephen Dorff) is a famous actor living at Los Angeles hotel the Chateau Marmont. Recovering from an injury, he seems detached and numb. Plus, he’s receiving aggressive texts and it seems that his car is being followed. When he unexpectedly has to look after his 11-year-old daughter Cleo (Elle Fanning) for several days, his world begins to change.
Like Coppola’s other modern classics, this is all about the characters and their relationships rather than the plot. She’s not afraid to let silences stretch, or to let scenes unfold at their own pace, and the film feels much more “real” as a result.
Music once again plays a big part, with expertly chosen tracks often playing out in full because they fit the mood or tone so well.
I like the fact that Somewhere is of no recognisable genre. It hints at evolving into a sort of thriller, but cleverly dismisses those elements and keeps the focus on the evolving father-and-daughter dynamics. A real treat.
David Lean’s adaptation of Boris Pasternak’s 1957 novel is a lavish but disjointed epic that grinds on for 200 minutes. Omar Sharif stars as the doctor of the title, who falls in love with young Lara Antipova (Julie Christie). The film takes in World War I, the Russian revolution of 1917 and the Russian Civil War with a plot that’s too meandering to summarise neatly. Sometimes it races through events briskly, while at other times it appears to linger on scenes that don’t warrant being stretched out – a problem with pacing.
On the plus side, the colours are rich and the all-star cast is uniformly excellent. It’s nice to see Julie Christie and Tom Courtenay back together again two years after Billy Liar, even if they don’t have much chemistry this time around. Omar Sharif is charismatic, with twinkling eyes and an undeniable presence, while Alec Guinness has a certain authority as the doctor’s brother. Geraldine Chaplin, Rod Steiger and Ralph Richardson are all compelling, too.
On the down side, sometimes the narrative signposting is muddled. For example, when Lara cannot find her husband after the battle, we assume he’s dead but she neither mourns him nor asks about him. It’s simply not clear how she feels or how we’re meant to respond. I wondered if this was because the plot had to be condensed to work as a film, but if that’s the case maybe it could have added some simple explanatory sentences to bridge chunks of narrative that had to be cut. And if that is the reason, it’s ironic that they still ended up with such an incredibly long film (it takes up both sides of a DVD) that often feels slow and cumbersome.
The film begins with a road trip and I would have liked more of that, but ultimately it’s not about their travels. The focus is primarily on the mother-daughter relationship and how that develops under increasingly strained circumstances. There are a few laughs, too, which emerge from a strong, character-driven script.
Sarandon sparkles as the maddening but hugely appealing Adele. Portman gives a performance that unlike other films (Star Wars prequels, Garden State), suggests she’s a pretty solid actor who hasn’t always chosen the right roles.
The conclusion is satisfying and emotional without being mawkish.
The SS Poseidon is sailing from New York to Athens when an underwater earthquake creates a huge wave that turns the ship over. A small group of passengers do their best to survive, despite the water coming in and the fires breaking out.
I was curious to see this film, which I had often heard about. It’s trashier than I expected. There’s a shabby made-for-TV quality to it, and it has none of the big-budget grandeur of disaster classics such as The Towering Inferno. The characters are absurdly diverse “types”, including:
• a rogue preacher (Gene Hackman)
• an angry, bad-tempered cop (Ernest Borgnine) and his ex-prostitute wife (Stella Stevens)
• a gee-whiz American kid (Eric Shea) and his older sister (Pamela Sue Martin)
• a woman given no other function than to be “a fat lady” (Shelley Winters) and her thinner husband Jack Albertson (Grandpa Joe in Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory)
• a nervous singer (Carol Lynley) whose band of beardy blokes doesn’t make it
• a kindly, injured waiter (Roddy McDowall)
• an absurd-looking runner (he jogs like a parody of a Carry On character), who’s too shy to have any luck with women (Red Buttons)
Meanwhile, Leslie Nielsen plays the captain. After seeing him in Airplane! and The Naked Gun, it’s strange to see him in a straight role: I kept waiting for the gags that never arrived.
The concept is good, but it’s poorly executed and poorly written. There’s a lack of dramatic tension. Too much of the film becomes a logistical challenge of getting a group of people past an obstacle or from one room to another. The ship is meant to be upside down most of the time, but it rarely looks that way. You only see it in close-up, and the lack of contextual shots mean that what you do see looks like a set. It made me respect the action sequences in James Cameron’s Titanic even more than I did already.
Character-wise, there are sections that are unintentionally comical – ridiculous, even. Often, one person is speaking and everyone else is holding a strange facial expression, such is the lack of dynamism in the group scenes. There’s a lot of unnecessary shouting, too. And you can tell when someone’s about to die because of the conversation they have beforehand.
Gene Hackman makes the most of the sub-standard material, but he can only do so much.
All these points aside, it’s entertaining enough.
The danger is that such a stylised approach might limit the film’s emotional impact, but if anything it works the other way, elevating simple scenes into works of art that magnify the characters’ situations. It would presumably have been so much easier to make the film as a standard costumer, but instead it operates on a higher level.
Keira Knightley is appealing and convincing in the title role. Jude Law looks nothing like himself as her rigidly controlling husband. Aaron Taylor-Johnson plays the dangerous, icily charming Count Vronsky, who Anna has a devastating affair with. The love story is expertly told. There’s a parallel tale of what happens when passion and freedom conflict with social conformity. Should you follow your heart or do what’s expected of you by your peers and your class? For Anna, of course, neither option works out well.
