Cast: John Cusack, Amanda Peet, Danny Glover

Cast: Jim Carrey, Gary Oldman, Colin Firth

Director: Robert Zemeckis

Screenplay: Robert Zemeckis

Running time: 1 hr 35 mins

Genre: Animation



CRITIQUE:


Robert Zemeckis’ A Christmas Carol is like mince pies at Tesco’s – it’s out a tad too early for the season. Whilst it doesn’t hurt to have a rather early festive cheer, we are already reminded of our moralities in this sentimental, virtue-parading Victorian fable. You know, giving some loose change to the homeless, smiling at those even you hate, ticking every single box that makes you a Good Samaritan. One step more and we’d be lectured by some deep-rooted Christian moralising, then you’d probably be harrumphing and walking out of the cinema. Thank goodness Zemeckis does not think of cinema as a church. His version of Dickens’ classic Christmas story sidesteps all that preaching, and pins for the personal rather than the pious rubbing-in. Zemeckis’ third stab at motion-capture animation actually shows decent improvement from his previous mo-cap efforts, the zombie-fied The Polar Express (the one where Tom Hanks was shrunk into a kid) and the faintly inexpressive Beowulf (the one where Ray Winstone was beefed up and Angelina Jolie nude and high-heeled), and his humans here actually resemble real people, and not some George A. Romero’s walking, talking, glass-eyed undead creatures.


Jim Carrey plays not only one but six various characters, the three different ages of protagonist Ebenezer Scrooge – forlorn boy, young man and grouchy old git – and the Ghosts of Christmas Past, Present and Future. It’s a terrific display of versatility, which Carrey lends enormous amounts of facial expressions and tonalities of voice. But it’s his cantankerous old-age Scrooge that he draws a character arc, with a finely detailed craft of the medium, from facial pores to trembling mouth and wizened cheeks, it’s lovingly digitalised. So it’s a jarring surprise then that other characters are given less attention, such as Gary Oldman’s shop-assistant Bob Cratchit, who appears slightly like a dummy, and even much worse Colin Firth’s nephew Fred, who suffers the latest onscreen Botox disaster. Robin Wright-Penn was almost unrecognisable as Scrooge’s former lover. The woodenness of her digital transfer makes her look like a three-dimensional Barbie, until you see her name in the credits.


A Christmas Carol, meanwhile, is at its best in its poignant moments, with Scrooge revisiting his past joys, sorrows and faults, realising what Christmas is really all about. And the splendid aerial expedition around Gothic Victoriana London is spectacular, especially in experienced in IMAX print, making one either squeal in delight or motion-sick. There is indeed a future for motion-capture. All Zemeckis need to do is carry on tinkering with the medium, and he’ll get there eventually.


VERDICT:

Robert Zemeckis’ refines his 3D motion-capture technology by learning the main lesson of his utterly stiff, dreadfully panned The Polar Express – creating plausible humans rather than dummies. Jim Carrey gives a multi-faceted performance, but strangely enough, the film leaves the rest of its cast unattended in the graphics department, with Firth suffering the latest onscreen Botox disaster. Nevertheless, the IMAX 3D leaves one breathless (and motion-sick) soaring over the impressively detailed Gothic Victoriana London.




RATING: B-

Just when you thought cinema is all about escapism. To divert ourselves from the humdrum and trivialities of life by checking out the latest flights and fancies of Pixar film and emerge with wings on our heels and grins as wide as a continent. Cinema is, indeed, a playground of ecstasy and rapturous pleasure, from Gene Kelly’s tap-dancing in the rain to Julie Andrews’ running atop hills in sheer delight. But once in a while, a film arrives to douse all the lights and splash our grinning faces with a bucket-load of freezing cold water, waking us up to the shock of reality.


Enlisted here are films which serve as cinematic treatises to the harsh side of life, that human existence is really futile and that the world is really a ruthless place to live in. These are films which are inherently bleak that you won’t be able to smile for days (or weeks), and no – I’m not talking about High School Musical or Twilight rubbish here (although it makes anyone with an inch of a brain and preferably past adolescence depressed enough watching them) or mere shameless tear-jerkers like Titanic. No. I’m talking about human tragedy of Sisyphean proportions here. Films that expose the incontrovertible frailties of man, the darkness of the human soul and the pointlessness of mankind’s toil. Because nothing lasts and every one does not really live happy ever after, as we’ve all been told.


So stay away from sharp, pointed objects, ropes and chemical weapons if you haven’t seen these. And since Christmas is almost here, if you think you’ve had excessive cheer, pretentious crackers and too much turkey and feel the need to be slapped back to Earth – these are the perfect antidotes to give you the reality check. If otherwise gloomy, watch these and you’d think your life is not the worst case scenario. Honestly.

#10 – 21 GRAMS [2003]

Three interlinked stories. Three humans seeking redemption – but barely gets any. Sean Penn’s character faces mortality with his heart-transplant, Benicio del Toro’s ex-convict discovers faith from being a drug-addict and alcoholic, and Naomi Watt’s mother suffers grief and returns to drug relief. This is Alejandro Gonzales-Innaritu’s dissertation on misery, mortality and the worthlessness of the human body. He claims that death has the equivalent of 21 grams, the weight of our entire lives lost.

#9 – SOPHIE’S CHOICE [1982]

Meryl Streep’s Polish woman is ridden with a past torment, a horrible choice she had to make, that even when she tries to live in a present America, her past overshadows every relationship she makes. Clue: she unwittingly gives up a child to be killed in a Nazi concentration camp. She lives with her lover, Kevin Kline’s Nathan, but even he is suffering a mental turmoil – so in the end, they’re better of drinking cyanide and go to sleep without ever waking up again.

#8 – SCHINDLER’S LIST [1993]

Okay, it’s a hopeful story of one man who knew he could make a difference and save the lives 1,100 Jews. But let’s not forget the 6 million Jews who perished during the Holocaust. In Steven Spielberg’s uncompromising, uncommonly bleak portrayal of the indescribable Holocaust, we witness few of cinema’s most heartwrenching moments, humans being killed like chickens – with Ralph Fiennes’ Amon Goeth remorselessly shooting people from his veranda. Even the shower scene alone, despite devoid of onscreen gassing, has enough terror to make our skin crawl.

#7 – LILYA 4-EVER [2002]

This grim Swedish piece of miserablism is more despairing than the harshest of Swedish winters. Young Lilya is abandoned by a selfish mother, living off in a shithole apartment and forced to descend into prostitution. There’s a silver lining in the dark cloud, meanwhile, as she is swept by a hunk stranger who promises her a better future, only to be sent off to a sex-market of peopled with miserable old men wanting that quick, young-flesh fuck. Hope is sorely absent in this story.

#6 – LEAVING LAS VEGAS [1995]

Nicholas Cage’s failed writer faces failed marriage and escapes to Las Vegas. And no, he’s not there to play some casino. He aims to drink himself to death. Meanwhile, he meets Elizabeth Shue’s good-hearted prostitute who wants to save him. He says no, and that nothing could ever change his intentions. They have sex while he is dying – and that is perhaps one of the most anguishing acts a person can ever do, to perform the last act of pleasure with a dying lover.

#5 – IRREVERSIBLE [2002]

Frenchman Gaspar Noe tells this revenge tale backwards, Memento-like, showcasing a grim depiction of the doomed fates of his characters. The violence portrayed here is almost unwatchable, as are the lives involved, with an initially given knowledge that they all suffer tragic consequences. If that is not enough, the camera sits down for the entire 20-minutes with Monica Belluci being raped and beaten to death without any sign of mercy. The conclusion is the film’s beginning with Belluci discovering she’s pregnant – but we, the audience, know that nothing will ever be the same for the lives of these human beings. "Time destroys everything."

#4 – GRAVE OF THE FIREFLIES [1988]

Crafted by the Japanese animation studio that gave us Spirited Away, one could assume that this is another Studio Ghibli childrens’ fairy tale. How very wrong. Perhaps the most depressing animated film ever made, Grave of the Fireflies tells the suffering of two war-ravaged Japanese children, with parents who perished during the war, and left to fend themselves hunt for food and solace. A spoiler: the cute younger sister dies first, and then the older brother follows suit by becoming a beggar first and then dies of starvation. This is one of most powerful testaments against war, with children as victims – and this will have you shaking uncontrollably with angry tears streaming down your face.

#3 – THEY SHOOT HORSES, DON’T THEY? [1969]

Shot during the Great American Depression, there’s not a more suitable era to be glum than this period of skint existence and desperation that humans who badly need to survive enlist themselves in a marathon dance that could cost their health, or worse their lives. The contestants dance endlessly, whilst the showmaster makes sure the audience are entertained. Each one begins to deteriorate from health and slowly slips into near-death. But Jane Fonda’s cynical Gloria Beatty fights to survive in the contest, even harrowingly outlasting the film’s most shocking scenes, the “Derby” run, yet only to discover the cold-blooded ethos of the entire showbusiness. So she ends her suffering once and for all.

#2 – REQUIEM FOR A DREAM [2000]

The title says it all. Darren Aronofsky’s bitter, unpleasant cinematic experience will leave a vitriolic aftertaste at the back of your mouth. The characters personal agonies here are all self-inflicted, it makes it all the more disturbing. Ellen Burstyn’s old-aged mother Sara aspired to be on television, and hopes to fit in her red dress, so she takes slimming pills. Turns out they’re slowly embalming her from within. On the other strand of the narrative is Jared Leto and Jennifer Connelly’s relationship deteriorating due to drug abuse, leading them to a downward spiral to drug hell, with Leto’s arm rotting off and Connelly ending up in an underground sex orgy – told with a climactic background of operatic, diabolical musical score. If there’s one positive thing that comes out of this film, it’s that you’d never want to touch drugs in your entire life.

#1 – DANCER IN THE DARK [2000]

Imagine Gene Kelly singing in the rain. And then Julie Andrews warbling that the hills are alive. Good, because you need to envision them when you finish watching Lars von Trier’s gruelling anti-musical Dancer in the Dark. You’ll need much lighter musicals to serenade you to sleep after this. For this is not just a film - it's a an experience to brave through, and Von Trier does not push easy buttons here. The Danish provocateur slams an indictment to the corruption of society, the American legal system and the fallibility of human beings. Icelandic pop queen Björk squeals her lungs out, torments and personal hell in this tale of a woman-going-blind whilst being wronged by her own fellow neighbours. She’s a Czech immigrant, a factory worker in America, who suffers a rare genetic disease that slowly claims her sight. She saves up her stash of earnings for the operation of her young boy who inherits her sickly genes, but only to be stolen by a local policeman. All of this happens while she pretends that everything is a Hollywood musical, a fantastical projection of a world where nothing can go wrong. Nevertheless, in the real world, everything can go wrong. She unintentionally kills the corrupt policeman and gets sentenced to death. You’ll never see a more devastating interpretation of Sound of Music’s My Favourite Things given the film’s context, with the doomed heroine singing this piece as a diversion from the ghastly circumstance she’s in. You will find yourself unable to smile after viewing Dancer in the Dark. No joke.

Cast: Ingrid Thulin, Gunnar Björnstrand

Director: Ingmar Bergman

Screenplay: Ingmar Bergman

Running time: 1 hr 21 mins

Genre: Drama/Foreign Film



CRITIQUE:


Aside from drab seashores and gloomy cloaked men playing chess, we seem to have forgotten what Ingmar Bergman was really best in cinema: his unrelenting, unforgiving use of close-ups. His later masterpiece Persona is crucially incomplete without them. To Bergman, the human face is the greatest subject of study. And this is exemplified here in his utterly bleak drama Winter Light, where the camera closes in to the actors’ faces, confronting them with unflinching attention with barely a director’s cut, and then strips away every layer of character reserve to bare something that is human and very raw. This story of a priest’s crisis of faith is told in a very minimalist style of cinematography; mostly static shots of church interiors and wintry exterior landscapes, but these settings are comparably insignificant to the panorama of emotions in display of the film’s human faces. The pastor, Tomas Ericsson’s expression transforms from solemnity to turmoil-ridden, a man suffering from religious doubt and existentialist riddle. His unreciprocated lover, the schoolteacher Marta, gives an onscreen confession so powerful that even without the words pouring out from her lips, we can discern the emotional anguish from this woman’s face. These two central characters are both exquisitely performed, culminating in a battle of self-esteem, as Tomas spews revulsion and rebuff whilst we witness Marta's painful deterioration.


VERDICT:

This is not a film to enjoy. This is Ingmar Bergman’s cinema-essay on faith, human existentialism and sorrow – big, bold issues told in a minimalist, unfussy style. Winter Light’s bleak atmosphere and religious freezing might put you in gloom, but this is undoubtedly powerful, moving cinema.




RATING: B+

Cast: Kang-ho Song, Ok-vin Kim

Director: Park Chan-Wook

Screenplay: Park Chan-Wook

Running time: 2 hrs 13 mins

Genre: Foreign Film



CRITIQUE:


One has to be either dull-witted or living off as a recluse in underground not to notice that the world is currently being run over by vampires. From American emo franchise Twilight, worshipped by a horde of starry-eyed girlie teenagers (and their mums, too) to American TV series, modern trend of vampirism involves immaculate cheekbones, dreamy gazes and lots of men eagerly de-shirting for millions of disillusioned girl with jaws dropping to the floor and swooning in the process. For most of us with some shred of sensibilities left, this recent cultural take-over is smothering us and makes us want to vomit. Thank goodness, there was a breath of fresh air all the way from Sweden earlier this year, as Thomas Alfredson’s extraordinary Let The Right One In revitalised the bloodless genre. Now, arriving from South Korea is Park Chan-Wook’s Thirst, an oddly surreal yet engagingly inventive that would make Twilight utterly toothless. This is – in pure simple terms – a vampire film for cinema-conscious adults.


We’ve seen the angst and tenderness in other vampire films already, so Thirst takes out the genre’s balls, slams it to your face and wipes its glorious gore unapologetically. After its protagonist, a good-hearted Catholic priest, survives a skin epidemic, he discovers he is infected with a leper-like disease that is only curable with blood refreshments. Cue bloodlusting and clandestine slurping of haemoglobin under comatose patients. But for all its bloodbath and violence galore, there’s a beautifully orchestrated central tale of erotic awakening between the conflicted hero Sang-Hyun and oppressed housewife Tae-ju. Vampirism here is employed as an excuse to symbolise intense eroticism and penetrative sex, unlike the many pretentious, shallow dictums of the genre’s competitors. The romance between the lovers is unabashedly feral, needy, veering from unrestrained wantonness to tempestuous, fatal quarrels. Imagine a domestic fight, but only with fewer words and more teeth.


There are also many strands of storyline being woven here; Sang-Hyun’s spiritual dilemma, Tae-Ju’s sexual perversity, and a spousal betrayal as both murder Tae-Ju’s husband only to haunt them in return. It starts strong, but becomes a little loose in the middle, and then redeemed by a brilliant final act, where Sang-Hyun’s pacifism clashes with Tae-Ju’s predatory philosophy. That final scene in the coast where the two confront their own doomed existence is both beautifully conceived and realised.


VERDICT:

From the overpopulated genre of vampire flicks, we have to thank for Park Chan-Wook’s pitch-black humour, bizzaro approach and endless visual inventiveness to make Thirst a standout from the throng. This is such an engrossing watch. Its gore, blood, sarcasm and ribald sex will make the sanitised, squeaky clean vampire-camper Twilight blush.




RATING: B+

Cast: Christopher Reeves, Marlon Brando, Margot Kidder, Gene Hackman

Director: Richard Donner

Screenplay: Mario Puzo

Running time: 2 hrs 31 mins

Genre: Action/Adventure



CRITIQUE:


There are three things in common between The Godfather and Superman: the Movie. For one, it has Marlon Brando in it. Second, it’s written for the screen by Mario Puzo. And third (here’s the clinch), Superman is, without a doubt, the godfather of all superhero movies created in Hollywood cinema history. Anyone who is unfamiliar with either the ludicrously ubiquitous ‘S’ emblem or the red-caped Man of Steel himself should really pack their bags, abandon the planet and go live in Pluto. For every web-slinging, rubber-masked hero with tight, mojo-hugging pants, there’s the immortal, saviour-figure of Superman ready to take bullets in the chest, catch terrorists, stop train-wrecks, hurl up falling helicopters, swim through magma, restrain tectonic quakes, and even reverse the world’s spinning to put everything back to place once again. Suffice to say, not even Spiderman, Batman and Iron Man, individually or altogether, can carry out such humongous tasks. So what the world needed is a beefy, colossally chested Jesus-Christ-figure that can defy all the laws of physics, and Hollywood gives it to us. Hell, imagine if Superman goes to Afghanistan and get things done and dusted. Easy peasy, wouldn't it?


It is easy to get cynical and be dismissive of this film’s utterly unreal premise, but let us sit back and formulate what Hollywood really stands for: maximum entertainment equals maximum profit. Realism is not this industry’s business – leave the gritty social-dramas to the Europeans. This is a comic book, for Chrissake. So once you get through that fact, Superman is easier to gulp down. And it’s a rather joyous piece of entertainment, an amorous homage to pop culture’s most iconic hero. It’s all very palpable with the film’s craft. From the disarmingly effective opening credits to the superb frame-by-frame composition, Richard Donner knows to how operate his camera to capture stunning shots that perfectly enhance the film’s epic scope. Here he gives an otherworldly feel to the opener’s planet Krypton scenes and shifts to a natural tone as soon as Superbaby lands on Earth. The countryside wide-angle panoramic shots almost have a Malickian aesthetic to them.


The film’s ace also comes in its perfect casting. And it’s all in spades. Back in the day, who would expect the then-unknown Reeves to nail a role like this, but his chiselled looks, sculpted edges and ridiculously square jawline won him over Robert Redford, Clint Eastwood, James Caan and John Voigt in what must be the most top-billing audition process in Hollywood history. He brings an effortless charm married with gravitas to the role that has always been revered by adoring fans. Notwithstanding his unknown name in the business, to cash in big bucks, Donner needed big names: Brando and Hackman. Both names were billed atop Reeves’ own, even they were only supporting acts, Brando in particular, whose appearance is no more than the film’s ten-minute prologue, costing Warner Bros. an alleged $4 million talent fee and was given a rather poor costume from the wardrobe department, but his all-knowing, God-like Daddy Jor-El brings enough seriousness to the otherwise awkward sci-fi-themed beginning. Hackman seems to have had the time of his life playing bald villain Lex Luthor, the psycho-cum-academic who threatens to destroy civilisation – but the lads are very nearly eclipsed by one Margot Kidder, whose Lois Lane is a wonderful template to comic-book leading ladies; subtly attractive, funny and a bit of a smart-arse with a softy core. Her character interplay with the Superman ego on the rooftop scene is wittily observed; something that displays charm and knowing altogether. This is a relationship that glues the entire film together.


VERDICT:

In Hollywood’s hall of caped crusaders and masked heroes, Superman lords over every single comic-book-turned-silverscreen superhero movie. Nevertheless flawed just like the Man of Steel himself, one doesn’t really associate realism and logic with Superman, in the same way as expecting your nerdy newspaper neighbour can really fly and reverse-spin the Earth – but this has enough spectacle, humour, wit and most of all, heart to make this an enduring, unabashed piece of old-fashioned entertainment.



RATING: A

Cast: Meryl Streep, Amy Adams, Stanley Tucci

Director: Nora Ephron

Screenplay: Nora Ephron

Running time: 1 hr 35 mins

Genre: Romance/Comedy



CRITIQUE:


Nora Ephron is one contented woman. We have to give her that. Whereas other contemporary directors flit from one genre to the next, Ephron remains comfortably perched on her snug and cosy romantic-comedy couch. On her table, she serves up a cinematic banquet teeming with romcom dishes, the appetising and generally pleasing When Harry Met Sally, Sleepless in Seattle and You’ve Got Mail, albeit with one flavourless course that was Bewitched, arguably the spoiler of what should be an entertaining menu for anyone who craves for some metropolitan romance. Now she concocts a culinary comedy spiced up with her key ingredient of adult relationships (surprise, surprise!), with added whimsy and yes, food porn. Julie & Julia’s grub shots are so ludicrously gratuitous that one can’t help feeling a little peckish throughout the film.


But despite the orgy of food here, Julie & Julia is surprisingly delectable, even for an Ephron standard. She interweaves two true-to-life stories, an American culinary icon Julia Child circa postwar Paris on one hand and a recent day civil servant Julie Powell on the other. Both are given The Hours treatment where two narrative strands at both ends of a timeline overlap through each other; Child as a Cordon Bleu student, chopping and chirruping her way in the kitchen, and her subsequent achievement with her Mastering the Art of French Cooking publication, as Powell cooks more than 500 recipes of the same book and blogs her way through 365 days in the internet. But the message here is not really learning how to cook a delightful beouf borguignon, but the understanding of the vicissitudes of love, the real food for life.


Amy Adams accommodates what she can with the material she’s been given as Julia Powell, who, in purely technical terms, actually a self-absorbed, ambitious attention-seeker hiding beneath a winsome face who talks and grins to herself like a demented version of Carrie Bradshaw typing in front of her PC. Nonetheless, Adams brings enough charm and sensibility to sidestep a rather irritating character. But it’s the Athena of the American movie Industry, Meryl Streep who steals the entire show with her capacious, wonderfully drawn Julia Child. For every high-pitched cackle and siphoning titillating French verbs, there’s an equivalent poignancy to her Child, a personally unfulfilled, childless woman. It’s this other half of the film that’s more interesting and shall we say, with more meat, as Streep’s Child and Stanley Tucci’s brilliantly portrayed husband Paul doesn’t have to deal with storming, unstable relationships. Theirs is a more mature, sophisticated cooking to revel in, two adults who are clearly made for each other and accepts the inadequacies of both parties.


VERDICT:

If Nora Ephron were to run a restaurant, her menu would be filled with comfort food. Her latest addition to her cinematic canon Julie & Julia is thematically undemanding to tuck in, like a dish you’re familiar of eating, although it’s far from being tasteless. Anyone with a joie de vivre about Meryl Streep and food porn will find this lip-smackingly delectable.




RATING: B+