My Thoughts on Doctor Strange

Doctor Strange was just released in Japan, three months after its US release. However it’s the first Marvel film of the last couple of years that I haven’t rushed to the cinema to watch. In fact, I didn’t necessarily want to see it in the first place because of my lack of interest in the character. 

Until now Marvel had avoided the concept of magic in its cinematic universe. Scarlet Witch’s lack of “chaos magic” being a clear example. Instead Doctor Strange immediately showcases the unique approach to sorcery and wizardry during the opening scenes as The Ancient One battles Kaecilius and his forces. Put simply, the film looks and sounds fantastic. Strange’s introduction into the astral plane and dimensional shifts is a dazzling acid trip of colours, shapes and animations. The dizzying New York fight sequence between Strange, Mordo and Kaecilius is almost too hectic. I actually found myself briefly looking away from the screen in order to refocus. It’s an impressive set of action sequences that contrasts well with the franchise’s typical use of explosions and fistfights. My only issue is that while the environments and the effects are spectacular, the character models dancing around these kaleidoscopic set-pieces aren’t as polished. 

Story-wise, for the Marvel Universe to include Doctor Strange it was definitely justified in creating an origin film for such a unique character. We see Strange’s progression and transformation from the arrogant neurosurgeon to “Master of the Mystic Arts”. In fact the film wastes little time in showing Strange’s growth as an individual. One minute he’s struggling to use his hands, the next he’s surpassing his mentors and teachers. The film also does a good job at hinting at the grander scale and scope of Strange’s world. A multitude of dimensions, time manipulation, and the global nature of the Sanctums create a character, property and the basis for a plethora of interesting opportunities and situations in the future. 

But for all the film tries to differentiate itself from it’s Marvel counterparts, it still follows the typical narrative progression of any traditional superhero film. And with that comes a lot of the same, reoccurring problems. The most disappointing being the villain. Marvel yet again squanders the opportunity to present a villain of note. Mads Mikkelsen is one of my favourite actors and very capable of playing captivating foes. The problem lies in creating a balance between developing the protagonist and the antagonist, which the very nature of an “origin story” restricts. The story’s focus is purely on Strange, and Mikkelsen’s motivations and character are thus largely relegated to exposition and incoherent babble. In fact by the end of the film, his character withers away in the background in order to introduce the real villain Dormammu, who is equally trivialised in the last 10 minutes. With a wealth of villains in it’s universe, its frustrating and worrying that Marvel can’t seem to forge a character with any lingering danger or presence. 

In regards to the titular character, Benedict Cumberbatch certainly looks the part and he can wave his arms in a convincing manner. At times while the script falters and so too does his accent, his charisma proves just enough to create an engaging character. But I’m still not convinced that he is an actor worthy of his popularity or high esteem.  Meanwhile, Tilda Swinton and Chiwetel Ejiofor are great in their supporting roles, but Rachel McAdams is left by the wayside to question her own function in the film.

For me, Dr Strange wasn’t the evolutionary step in the Marvel franchise many critics have deemed it to be. Don’t get me wrong, it’s an enjoyable film with fantastic visuals. But it lacks a certain narrative charm or individualism that feels necessary with the character and the property. If Strange is indeed part of the next Avengers instalment, then I’ll be interested to see how they frame him with the likes of Hawkeye and Captain America. With a character so omnipotent, it seems pretty laughable to have him levitating next to a purple-dressed archer.

Favourites of 2016: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story

After re-watching Star Wars: The Force Awakens recently, I decided to go back and read my article  exclaiming it to be one of my favourite films of 2015. After reading it numerous times and disagreeing with around sixty percent of what I had written, I feel I was too hasty in giving such glowing praise to what was essentially a soft reboot with little originality. 2016 saw the release of the franchise’s first “stand alone” film, Rogue One. And as per usual, the hype and marketing was omnipresent. The trailers looked great, the cast was amazing and director Gareth Edwards was an interesting pick. However I was still sceptical about the Disney’s attempts to revisit old ground, especially with the direct connections to my beloved original trilogy. 

The story, which stems from a sentence in the opening crawl of A New Hope, isn’t one of complex narrative twists and turns: There’s a group of ragtag, good guys. Meanwhile the bad guys have made a destructive weapon that threatens the galaxy. So the good guys have to get the weapon’s secret plans. It’s a safe film that uses the chronological setting to tell an engaging story while introducing characters both old and new. The film fortunately refrains from leaving an abundance of open questions and chooses it’s lasting “franchise significance” in a sensible and intelligent manner. The film finishes, and so too does the tale being told. 

What particularly stands out are the visuals and cinematography. The costly CGI “resurrection” of Peter Cushing’s character Grand Moff Tarkin is astonishing and I personally felt that it was justified in the narrative. But I hope that this doesn’t become a future trend of the film industry. The concept of seeing lost stars such as Robin Williams and Alan Rickman in new projects isn’t one that feels humble or progressive. Elsewhere, one thing that really stuck me was the sense of scale. Gareth Edwards has been notable for his prowess at showcasing scope and perspective. His directorial debut Monsters and reboot of Godzilla managed to successfully convey the magnitude of the events depicted on screen. In Rogue One, the new variation of AT-AT Walkers, Imperial Star Destroyers and especially the Death Star are presented in a way that gives a visual resonance which matches their intimidating presence throughout the film. The Death Star isn’t simply a matte painting, but a looming and ever-present force of terror. From the guerrilla warfare on Jedha to the rebels storming the beaches of Scarif, its hard to deny that Rogue One feels forceful and visceral in its presentation, which is helped by some excellent sound design. 

While I wouldn’t join the masses and exclaim that its a “dark, violent and grim film”, I will emphasis it’s overly-serious approach. Though I quite enjoyed the change of tone, the lighthearted banter and the occasionally quips aren’t enough to give a sense of humanity to the story’s characters, which is a major problem with Rogue One. I’m in complete agreement with the many criticisms surrounding the lack of character development. I’ve mentioned countless times that building engaging and deep characters is an important part of any film, especially one reliant on their motivations to the narrative cause. In a film where the majority of the audience already knows the fate of most of these individuals, it didn’t really do much to encourage any lasting sympathy towards their predictable demise. 

In the end, Rogue One was thoroughly enjoyable. However I’d be lying if my delight didn’t stem from my nostalgia for the franchise, especially seeing the Death Star and Imperial Walkers from the original trilogy. But even with a straightforward story and merely serviceable characters, I think it was definitely one of the best cinema experiences of 2016. 

Noteworthy Films of 2014: The Grand Budapest Hotel

Wes Anderson’s last film, Moonrise Kingdom, was a rather laborious affair that, while maintained the quirks of his previous work and was helped by some fantastic supporting performances, offered little in the way of narrative engagement. While I wouldn’t describe myself as a diehard fan of Anderson’s work, he has created some of the most visually charming films of the last two decades. The Fantastic Mr Fox, Rushmore and The Royal Tenenbaums are filled to the brim with personality, vitality and humour, and The Grand Budapest Hotel is no different.  

Blending comedy, drama, action and a hint of romance, the film isn’t one to simply loiter in it’s splendid visuals and Alexandre Desplat’s magnificent soundtrack. Split between three different time frames, The Grand Budapest Hotel travels from monasteries atop snowy mountains to the confines of a prison, exploring an array of colourful personalities from murderers to bakers. What always amazes me about Wes Anderson’s direction and writing, is that he manages to retain the energy and momentum throughout the entire film, yet still convey the depth and emotion of each scene and character. Ralph Fiennes is superb as the shrewd and rapid-firing concierge Monsieur Gustave H, a role that truly showcases the breadth of his talent. Meanwhile relative newcomer Tony Revolori offers a endearing performance as Zero, the hotel’s lobby boy and Gustave’s loyal sidekick. Jeff Goldblum, Edward Norton, William Dafoe and F. Murray Abraham are a few names from an overwhelming cast of incredible talent who all manage to leave a lasting impression even when they occasionally amount to little more than cameo. 

While visually and thematically The Grand Budapest Hotel doesn’t stray too far from Anderson’s usual artistic style, it’s still gorgeous to watch. Miniature sets and clever shifts in aspect ratios harken back to the “Golden Age” of cinema and give further personality to the film. An abundance of colour, careful set design and intelligent camerawork gives a distinct look that outshines the grit and murk that modern cinema has become all too obsessed with. 

With a smart and funny story, great performances all round, a beautiful visual tone and fantastic soundtrack, The Grand Budapest Hotel is easily one of Wes Anderson’s best. 

Noteworthy Films of 2014: Her

Spike Jonze has been a director that I’ve never been terribly fond of. I didn’t share the same admiration for Magnolia as many critics did, yet Being John Malkovich did strike a cord. His latest film, Her, was one that felt all too relevant in modern day society’s inseparable relationship to technology. While the concept of an over-intelligent A.I. is one that often churns up unsavoury predictions of Judgement Day or the Apocalypse, Her builds its premise around the melancholy of failed love and the resulting vulnerability. From a glance, it could be taken as a soppy, artsy piece of schlock, but with some fantastic writing and magnificent performances Her is radiant and poignant in its unique approach to the romance genre. 

The notion of A.I/ Human intimacy is one that is often frowned upon or joked at, yet Spike Jonze’s direction strangely translates the “man and software” premise into a degree of normality. Samantha, the film’s A.I., never becomes a physical entity as so often happens in this types of films. Yet the entire relationship feels somewhat grounded and surprisingly believable. Skipping the “child-like discovery” filler, Her presents Samantha as a sophisticated personality that quickly experiences the progression and imperfections of humanity, and the complexity of emotion. 

But it’s the pair’s comforting conversations and mannerisms that manages to project this as reminiscent of two actual loved ones communicating just through voice. The unavoidable awkwardness is present and on display in some of the film’s more emotionally intense moment, but Jonze plays it as the fragility of any human relationship. Additionally there’s a vulnerability through the entire picture and within each character that all stem from collapsed romances. From Joaquin Phoenix’s timid and introverted personality after his divorce, to Amy Adam’s own struggles with her partner, the film never glosses over or belittles this sympathetic theme. 

Key to the entire film’s success is its performances. Scarlett Johansson’s vocal work is fabulous, managing to convey a range of emotions and experiences through subtle intonations and changes in intensity. Meanwhile Phoenix does a terrific job playing the overly melancholy lead, maybe a bit too well. It’s the believability of the two’s interactions and exchanges that really sells this “unnatural” relationship and the film’s premise. With a supporting cast of Amy Adams and Rooney Mara, Her is awash with fine talent and it shows.

I’ve never been a fan of romantic dramas, but Her acts as a distinct and thought-provoking study into the labyrinth of “love”, meanwhile exploring the notions of human and technology’s connections. With a vividness and radiancy to the cinematography which uses ambient lighting and the abundance of colour, and a soundtrack that similarly offers emotional texture to the entire drama, Her is a beautiful film that undoubtably left an impression on me. 

Noteworthy Films of 2014: The Wind Rises

2014 proved to be a turbulent and worrying time for Studio Ghibli. Miyazaki’s “official” retirement,  and the studio’s announcement of radical in-house changes prompted fans to fear the worst. Yet it was a relatively busy period for Ghibli with the releases of The Tale of Princess Kaguya and The Wind Rises in the west and the unfortunately disappointing When Marnie Was Here in Japan. Being a massive fan of their work, it was slightly shocking to read the headlines so soon after their recent accession to the global limelight. It’s therefore fortunate that Miyazaki’s long, acclaimed career ends on a distinguished high with The Wind Rises. 

A story of perseverance, drama and romance amidst pre-war Japan, The Wind Rises continues Ghibli’s more realistic and grounded approach to it’s narratives. While definitely more light-hearted than Grave of the Fireflies, The Wind Rises still touches on some very mature themes even with it’s undercurrent of humour and tenderness. While it avoids to really delve into the heavy themes of war as Japanese cinema tends to do (my article), and constitutes more of a fictionalised version of Jiro Horikoshi’ s career in Japanese military aviation, the story is a thought-provoking and genuinely poignant one. 

The flowing and dynamic nature of the studio’s iconic animation style is present as always. With the aeronautical nature of the story, the sense of speed and fragility as prototype aircraft tear the skies is exhilarating and gorgeous to watch. Body language and interactions are intricately depicted giving vast amounts of personality to the characters and film in general. As with all their previous films it’s the small details that really add uniqueness to Ghibli’s work. Whether it’s their careful attention to a bookcase in the background or the light glistening off the sea, their pursuit for perfection is evident. As too is Joe Hisaishi’s impassioned score. 

Apart from a rather rushed conclusion, The Wind Rises is a touching and beautiful piece of cinema.   With a career spanning 5 decades, Hayao Miyazaki has continued to deliver heart-warming and enchanting stories and characters to fans of animation and general cinema. I have a sneaky suspicion that this won’t necessarily be the last we see from him, but looking back it’s been an esteemed career that will entertain and captivate children and audiences forever. 

Under The Skin Review

Released back in March, Jonathan Glazer’s latest film Under the Skin is one that has been praised by critics but panned by “cinema-goers”. I’m not a big fan of overly-pretentious crap that tries too hard. Either I lack the patience or the capacity to read into ambiguous shots of nothing and drawn out sequences that revolve around random imagery and convoluted editing. So Under the Skin’s theatrical trailer didn’t especially sell me. That being said, the premise of an alien “succubus” prowling and luring the simple-minded folk of Glasgow to be processed into a delicacy back home, is one that is hard to overlook. And then there’s the whole “never judge a book by…..” proverb which I’ve unfortunately forgotten to abide by a few times. 

Originally a book written by Michel Faber, Under The Skin had a rather turbulent pre-production span. The screenplay changed hands between numerous writers and underwent constant tweaking too. Taking a step back from the uncomfortable detail and ferocity of the book, Jonathan Glazer and screenwriter Walter Campbell have maintained the shocking and unsettled nature of the novel, but have used the visual essence of the film to create a “dreamscape” exploring the realms of surrealism, ambience and ambiguity. This might sound pretentious enough, but Under The Skin remains an “experience” above all else. Yes there’s a narrative and a basic three act structure, but to categorise it would be a challenge. Loosely blending elements from horror, sci-fi, thriller and drama, even after watching it twice I still can’t determine it’s genre.  

Scarlett Johansson’s performance is one of subtly. While I wouldn’t go as far as saying it’s “iconic”, as some have commended, she proves to be an enchanting temptress, managing to convey the alien’s changing temperament towards humanity and “her” occupation. While her blank expressions, and failed concept of human interaction can be slightly awkward at times, she strangely builds a sympathetic angle towards her situation. That being said, there really isn’t a true “character” in the film. The supporting cast, which consists of a mixture of professional actors and the actual “hapless victims“ from the streets of Glasgow, don’t leave a lasting impression. But that’s to be expected with a plot of an extraterrestrial stalking young males to their cold and isolated doom. 

Glazer has employed both atmosphere and tension to create a production that’s captivating and engaging. Under The Skin presents this through both its soundtrack and imagery. Mica Levi’s soundtrack is one that further adds to the general unease of the film. The three note melody of long stringed notes and altered pitch, mixed with plodding percussion provides a hypnotic trance that sends chills down the spine. The entire soundtrack for that matter, creates a surreal and rather uncomfortable atmosphere that matches perfectly with the film’s dreamy cinematography and the actual events that take place. The track “Love” perfectly demonstrates the flowing and transforming nature of the story and personality, with a blend of drawn out inflections in tone and intensity. 

The overriding aura of pretentious filmmaking is one that the film narrowly avoids.  The use of overly long, panning and random wide shots are still here, but a wise level of restraint has been employed. The varied and beautiful landscapes of Scotland are tinted into a dreary haze that conceals the hidden disposition and dangers in each location. And the visual styling towards the actual “harvesting-process” is simply stunning. My only issue is the lack of explanation. We easily comprehend the basic story the film presents, but it becomes overly difficult and cryptic to fully understand the events, especially in the third act. I like a film with ambiguity, but there’s a certain point where it can cause a loss in focus or purpose and Under The Skin’s ambiguity is near fatal. While I myself was still able to produce a smile as the credits rolled, I’m not sure others will share the same admiration and sentiment. 

Under The Skin will undoubtably be on my favourites list of 2014. While I can understand many’s frustration towards the film’s pretentiousness, I feel that it just about avoids “flying up its own arse”. A strong performance by Scarlett Johansson, and the film’s hypnotic shifts to the senses, Under The Skin is an experience that left me deeply satisfied but slightly traumatised. There are easy ways to turn this concept into an action film or an X-Files episode (I’m sure there’s probably been one). But Glazer has crafted something that looks and sounds distinct and entrancing. With an unnerving soundtrack and some gorgeous cinematography, Under The Skin isn’t one to take lightly.