Our beloved Maurice Moss (from Channel 4’s The IT Crowd) has only gone and made a film. Possibly jealous of Chris O’ Dowd’s (Roy’s) success in Hollywood films, such as Dinner for Schmucks and Katharine Parkinson’s (Jen’s)…um,  Malteasers ads, Richard Ayoade’s directorial debut, the coming-of-age comedy, Submarine, comes out this March. This is Ayoade’s first foray into directing a full-length feature, his previous directing experience seen in television series Garth Marenghi’s Darkplace and in various music videos for the likes of Vampire Weekend (all of which have been rather excellent). The film was recently screened at Toronto International Film Festival as well as the Dublin International Film Festival, with much praise for the first-time film director. So how will Submarine fare? Well, all indications would suggest magnificently.

The film, based on Joe Dunthorne’s novel of the same name (touted as “the greatest coming-of age story since Catcher in the Rye”), deals with the trials and tribulations of misguided, Max Fischer-esque, fifteen year-old Welshman, Oliver Tate. The primary cast is made up of young newcomers: our hero, Oliver Tate is played by Craig Roberts and his first love, Jordana, portrayed by Yasmin Paige. Other more well known faces from the British film scene also star, including Paddy Considine (In America) as a hippy life coach, who tries to seduce our protagonist’s mother (portrayed by An Education’s Sally Hawkins), and Oliver’s dad is played by Noah Taylor, who not-so-long-ago played the father of Charlie Bucket in Tim Burton’s Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.

The most well known faces tied to the film are behind the camera, with Ben Stiller acting as executive producer (apparently he’s a big Garth Marenghi’s Darkplace fan) and Alex Turner of the Arctic Monkeys writing a number of songs for the film. Though Stiller is apparently confused as to how he came to read the script of Submarine or, indeed, how he became involved at all, he is highly complimentary of Ayoade’s film, describing him as “annoyingly talented.” Alex Turner and Richard Ayoade were already an established collaborative duo, with Ayoade directing Arctic Monkey’s recent live DVD. Turner’s tracks, which happen to be his first solo effort proper, are quite lovely and tie with the whole ambience of the film well. Turner wrote five original tracks for the film, among them Hiding Tonight and Stuck on the Puzzle, all of which seem to match the leisurely, gentle pace of the film.

Recently released clips and trailers promise a pretty unique viewing experience. The trailer, back-dropped by some ambient French music, clearly introduces the core components of Oliver Tate’s world (as well as the offbeat comic nature of the film): a pyromaniac girlfriend, the ‘storm and stress’ of adolescence, the breakdown of his parents’ relationship, with a little aside reminding us of the dignity of the film industry (“It’s really rude to leave a film before its finished” “To who?” “The film makers” “How are they going to know?” “They just do…” “How?” “They do!”).

From what I have seen, promotion around the film has been limited, but has been greatly hyped nonetheless. Comparisons have been made between Ayoade and greats such as Wes Anderson and Jean- Luc Godard, because of his pace, style and attention to detail. It would seem that an air of delightful creepiness seems to come across from all of the promotional material for the film. Ayoade seems to have captured the awkward, humorous self-consciousness of the protagonist excellently.

All things considered, Submarine promises to be an extremely original piece of cinema. Ayoade is one of the most talented British comic writers and actors working today, so anyone who is familiar with his work is well aware of his capacity for brilliance. With any film hyped by the critics, as this film has been, there is some degree of caution among audiences, but I cannot help but be enthusiastic about this film. Considering it has not even got as far as cinema release, hopefully I’m not being premature in saying  Ayoade’s endearing new take on the coming-of-age tale is real reason for excitement.

Welcome to the final installment of the Ents section as presented by myself & Mssr. Murph – it’s been pretty awesome to run a full 6 (!) issues this academic year and it’s been especially awesome to write Ents. In honour of the occasion, and because I’m pretty cheesy, I thought it’d be pretty fitting to wrap up Motley’s Ents Section 2010/11 by recounting some of our favourite movie endings. Warning – this may get teary. Oh, and spoilers ahoy!

Amadeus

Milos Forman’s 1984 adaptation of Peter Shaffer’s play is probably one of the more beautiful, entertaining and generally good films of all time: it tells the (mostly fictionalised) story of how Mozart (here portrayed by Tom Hulce as childish, vulgar and incredibly talented – with a very annoying laugh) was (indirectly) murdered by a musical rival at the time, the scheming and insanely jealous Salieri (F. Murray Abraham). The final scene opens with the conclusion of Salieri’s story – he is now infirm and confined to an asylum long after Mozart’s death. The young priest to whom he confessed is visibly shaken, disturbed and clinging to his crucifix – as Salieri is wheeled out of the room, he pauses to speak to the priest. Mozart’s Piano Concerto in D Minor creeps into the background. “I will speak for you, Father,” he says. “I speak for all mediocrities in the world. I am their champion. I am their patron saint.” The final shots are of the ancient Salieri, once a great composer, being wheeled down the corridor of the asylum, crying out to the madmen he’s surrounded with – “Mediocrities of the world – I absolve you!” – before leaning back. He closes his eyes, folds his hand, and opens his mouth. Mozart’s laugh emerges. Fade to black. The scene gave me goosebumps the first time I watched it – a disturbing end to an incredible film.

Midnight Cowboy

Midnight Cowboy is an odd one. It’s the story of Joe (Jon Voight), a young Texan who comes to New York to make it as a male prostitute. He meets Ratso (Dustin Hoffman), who initially scams him out of money before the two make friends in the face of extreme poverty, unemployment and a harsh winter. Ratso, while a shady character, is also sick: he wants to make it out of New York and with worsening health, the two attempt to hire Joe out as a stud. Increasingly desperate and after a string of disturbing sexual encounters, Joe beats and robs a customer, and the two depart for Miami on a bus. However, Ratso is incredibly ill, and just as Joe wonders aloud about their new life in Miami, he realises Ratso has died beside him. Joe alerts the bus driver, who replies there is nothing left to do but continue to Miami, and Joe sits beside his dead friend, watching the landscape change outside. Seriously sombre stuff after an hour and a half of gritty drama, but highly recommended.

Being There

“Life is a state of mind” are the last lines of this brilliant film, starring Peter Sellers as Chance the Gardener, a simple-minded middle-aged man who, after years of peaceful isolation tending the garden of a wealthy townhouse in Washington DC, is turned out on the streets when its owner dies. Chance, dressed well but old-fashioned, wanders aimlessly until he is hit by the car of Ben Rand, a wealthy businessman and close aide to the President. Mistaking Chance the Gardener for “Chauncey Gardiner” (a mispronunciation), Rand and his wife (Shirley Maclaine) also mistake Chance’s simple musings about gardening (“As long as the roots are not severed, all is well. And all will be well in the garden”) for sage comments on the economy. He becomes an advisor to the President, appears on television and is offered book deals – all the while oblivious to what occurs around him. Finally, the terminally ill Rand dies: the final scene is his funeral. Chance wanders away once more, tends to a sapling and continues to stroll across the surface of a small lake. A few strides in, he pauses, pushes his umbrella down through the water as if to test its depth, and continues on his way. Is any interpretation sufficient? Roger Ebert says this of Being There: “The movie presents us with an image, and while you may discuss the meaning of the image, it is not permitted to devise explanations for it. Since Ashby does not show a pier, there is no pier – a movie is exactly what it shows us, and nothing more.”

Kids

I don’t like Kids. I’m pretty hard to shock when it comes to movies, but there’s something really ugly about this one – also, the early 90s clothes and jargon make it a hard one to relate to, whatever your socioeconomic status. That said, however, its ending is really something -  it’s the story of Telly, a 17 year old skater from New York who really likes sex but only deflowers virgins on the premise that this will protect him from STDs. Telly’s friends are cinema’s stereotypical teenaged sex, booze and drug addicts: all except Jenny (Chloe Sevigny), who has only ever had sex with Telly and has just discovered that she has HIV. For the rest of the movie, she attempts to find the also-HIV positive Telly, who has since had sex with many young girls, eventually finding him at a house party, having sex with a 13 year old girl. Exhausted and under the influence of party drugs, she passes out only for Telly’s friend Casper (Justin Pierce) to rape her, thus exposing himself to HIV. The final shot opens on a naked Casper, who wakes up, looks around in disbelief and asks the camera, “Jesus Christ, what happened?” It’s shocking and a little viewer-exploitative, but it works.

Some Like it Hot

It’s hard not to love Some Like it Hot: if you’ve not seen it, get out and get it, now – even if you don’t like older movies, SLiH is a treat. Mostly because it’s aged extremely well – you’ll get every one of the jokes, all the laughs are still intact and man, Marilyn Monroe is very sexy here. It’s the story of two musicians, Jerry (Jack Lemmon) and Joe (Tony Curtis) who witness a gangster shooting and flee the scene, disguising themselves as Josephine (Curtis) and Daphne (Lemmon) and joining a woman’s touring band. There they meet Sugar Kane (Monroe), whom Curtis falls in love with. He proceeds to disguise himself as a millionaire to win her over, while Daphne is unwillingly romanced by Osgood, another millionaire. It’s very zany, very clever, wonderfully witty – and its final scene is its best. Joe reveals himself to Sugar, who loves him anyway, while Osgood and the still-disguised Jerry escape in a boat. Jerry reveals “herself” to Osgood -

Jerry: Osgood, I’m gonna level with you. We can’t get married at all.

Osgood: Why not?

Jerry: Well, in the first place, I’m not a natural blonde.

Osgood: Doesn’t matter.

Jerry: I smoke! I smoke all the time!

Osgood: I don’t care.

Jerry: Well, I have a terrible past. For three years now, I’ve been living with a saxophone player.

Osgood: I forgive you.

Jerry: [Tragically] I can never have children!

Osgood: We can adopt some.

Jerry: But you don’t understand, Osgood!

[Pulls off wig]

Jerry: I’m a man!

Osgood: Well, nobody’s perfect!

And they ride off into the sunset. End scene. What a perfect close.

The best way to describe the reaction to the truly execrable film that is Inception is to compare it to a self fulfilling prophecy. When the Soviet Army crossed the Vistula in 1945, many ethnic Germans living in areas east of Germany desperately fled their homes in hopes of reaching mainland Germany before the Russians. Their desperate scramble was fuelled by their own fear of actual atrocities committed by the advancing Red Army, but also by their own Nazi government’s propaganda which was actually intended to stiffen these Germans’ resolve to resist the invasion. Alas, the horrific nature of these atrocities used as a propaganda tool merely induced panic and many of these retreating ethnic Germans became subject to these atrocities themselves when the fast moving Red Army units caught up with these refugees.

In this case the atrocity is merely a Hollywood film. The groundwork for this self fulfilling prophecy was laid months before the film’s release, with a trailer that genuinely suggested something intelligent and challenging would be forthcoming from the director of Memento and The Prestige. Instead, we got a monumentally simple and dull film which looked as though it had been directed by Michael Bay. The teaser trailer was specifically designed to echo or evoke the complex and labyrinthine structure of both Memento and The Prestige. This theory was re-enforced by a visit to the film’s official website in search of more information which only showed a constantly spinning top. This provocative and mysterious approach could easily be construed as pretentious or hollow unless the film itself delivered on its rather arch notions.

Another trope employed by the director/film executives was to ‘keep the plot secret’ and reveal as little as possible in the trailer. It would seem film goers’ expectations for summer releases has reached an all time low if they are receptive to equating secrecy with brilliant film-making. Proof that substantiates this theory is steeped in the aforementioned marketing tactics of the film, whereby they convinced most people that showing little amounted to a lot even though the actual film turned out to be the trailer itself; it was an inspired if insidious marketing strategy.

By constantly re-enforcing the idea that this film is special and unlike 90% of movies, which are merely their trailers, the audience believed Inception was a great film before entering the cinema. How else could a film get away with a few cheap looking action set pieces glued together with insipid dialogue such as ‘this is my last job’ or ‘we must stop Cillian Murphy before he or his company becomes an energy super-power’ or some other such drivel?

Above all this trash, above the mind numbingly boring and simple storyline, the laughable dialogue, Ellen Page, and prosaic action set pieces, spins that incessant top – like some over-wound toy ballerina tossed atop the flotsam of some wrecked garbage scow with the goddamn seagulls following close behind in the hope of some sardines.

Clint Eastwood’s Hereafter is an understated film about a delicate topic. In fact, it is so understated that it risks misleading much of the audience as to its intentions and implications, and frustrating the rest of us in the process. The central theme, unsurprisingly, is that of the eponymous afterlife. Eastwood threads a set of stories based around the primal desire for the great beyond and the human longing to communicate with those who have passed away. Everything we see is wholly suggestive and ambiguous, never committing to the reality (or lack thereof) of the characters’ observations, instead assuming that it is enough for us not to know or care whether an underlying truth is to be found in the characters’ shared sufferings and experiences.

Following in the vein of multi-stranded movies such as 2004’s Crash, the disparate subplots in Hereafter are brought together by a combination of chance and necessity (read: destiny?). Marie (Cecile de France) is a French television journalist who suffers a near-death experience as she almost drowns during a devastating tsunami, before being resuscitated; George (Matt Damon) is a middle-aged man who, so far as we can tell, genuinely considers himself able to communicate with the dead; and Marcus (Frankie McLaren) loses his twin brother Jason (George McLaren) to a car accident. Despite what we might expect given the overarching theme, there are hardly any remarkable events depicted for which we would have to lose our preconceptions. Near death experiences commonly result in reports of white light and a sense of peacefulness, and presumably there are at least some psychics who sincerely believe in their claims. We don’t have to accept anything out of the ordinary to buy into this story.

Equally, there is no major plot resolution to which we are led; the characters move slowly and inexorably towards one another without any real drama or event beyond the mundane reality of having to deal with the consequences of human mortality. Nothing is forced upon us, it is enough that the characters have genuine motivations and emotions. Peter Morgan, who wrote the screenplay, has stated that he does not believe in life after death. He didn’t need to in order to pen this story, because it’s irrelevant. The film doesn’t purport to demonstrate the otherworldly; instead impressing the view that the here-and-now is remarkable in its own right. In this sense Eastwood has made a subtly intelligent—if deceiving—picture. But in its lack of definite rhyme or reason, it fails to captivate us by committing itself, and it fails to excite us with a narrative that poses few questions and delivers even fewer answers. There is such a thing as too subtle.

Like every kid of the ’90s, my childhood comprised three things: Pokémon, penny sweets and Disney. While the former two are still decidedly awesome, the latter has declined so far into sheer crappiness that I just have to ask: what the hell happened?

The Lion King (1994) was the first film I ever saw in the cinema. I had just turned 5, and, although I was too much of a youngling to understand what was going on, I still recall being mesmerised by the whole thing. Looking back, all I can really remember are the bright colours and the fact that my sister was bawling. But damn, that movie was amazing.

The Lion King was my first foray into the Disney empire and succeeded in cementing my love for the studio forever more. It had everything Disney is famous for: an epic story, fully realised characters, comedy, horror, and sentiment. Not to mention a killer soundtrack, much of which today resides in my iTunes collection.

The aforementioned film is part of what is now termed The Disney Renaissance, a period of time when Disney could do no wrong. Running from the late 1980s to the late 1990s, releases included classics like Beauty and the Beast (1991), Aladdin (1992), and Pocahontas (1995). Every one of these films are widely regarded as Disney’s finest. In particular, Beauty and the Beast, which many believe to be the best thing Disney has ever done, was the first animated film ever to be nominated the Best Picture at the Oscars.

The Disney Renaissance came to an end in 1999 with the release of Tarzan. This was the moment when Disney began its long-lasting decline; when it turned from sacred to shit. Sure, Tarzan was great, but nothing beyond this has really wowed me since. Well, one has, but we’ll get to that later.

The 2000s, as far as I’m concerned, is when Disney lost the respect it took all those years to instil. Atlantis: The Lost Empire? Crap. Treasure Planet? Crap. Home on the Range? Crap! To add insult to injury, the company tried to save its own ass in 2006 by buying the perpetually awesome Pixar. When I learned of the acquisition I was terrified: how could Pixar, a studio with a perfect track record, allow itself to be tainted by Disney, a studio that hadn’t released anything worth watching since ten years before? Alas, it was ok: while Disney would oversee all projects, creative control would remain in the hands of Pixar.

For the last few years I had entirely forgotten about Disney. An endless string of disappointment had left me with little faith in the company, and I moved on to bigger and better things, namely the studio mentioned five or six times in the previous paragraph.

And then 2011 came. And with it, a movie so brilliant it has undone much of the irritation brought on in the noughties: Tangled. Based on Rapunzel, Tangled retells the classic tale in a witty and exciting way. But it’s not just that. I can’t quite put my finger on it, but Tangled has succeeded in recapturing the magic classic Disney features boast. That may be down to the fact that the movie cost a staggering $260 million to make, but perhaps the people at Disney have rediscovered something they had for such a long time lost. Maybe, just maybe, the Disney we all know and once loved is back. Hopefully, the studio’s next release doesn’t prove Tangled to be nothing more than a diamond in the roughest of the rough.

The holiest of Holy Days is upon us once again.  Now I know most of you will be celebrating with a good ole session at mass, but spare a moment this coming St. Patrick’s Day to reflect on some of the cinematic gifts that have bestowed stereotypes upon our nation and countrymen for about a century now.  Hollywood, like Americans in general, loves a good Celt.  Anyone who is anyone craves a bit of Irish ancestry.

The Irish have featured in many a film.  I am not simply speaking of a fellow Paddy who has experienced a breakthrough role in the latest mega blockbuster.  The concern of today is to celebrate the Oirish representations that both engage and plague our screens.

The Good:

Fergus ‘Fergie’ Colm in The Town

For those without sense and have not seen Ben Affleck’s The Town, I can assure you that this character has in no way been modelled on Fergie from the Black Eyed Peas. The late Pete Postlethwaite takes on the fighting Irish persona with a subtle charm rather than reverting to exaggerated pugilism.

Veronica Guerin

As if one needed further proof that Cate Blanchett is one of the great actors of our generation, she not only perfected the accent to boot, but she portrayed the deceased journalist with incredible integrity.

Roux in Chocolat

It is impossible to criticise Depp for lacking versatility.  The one true chameleon acting today, Pirates of the Caribbean endowed him with a lease of creative recognition.  Before Pirates, there was Chocolat.  Any crime against ethnic representation can be forgiven.  Depp plays the affable gypsy Roux who woos Juliette Binoche into his boat even with that struggling lilt of his.

The Bad and the Ugly:

Kitty Kiernan in Michael Collins

Her performance begs me to query; “Why the fuck couldn’t they have just hired a native?”  Considering Julia Roberts was by 1996 the queen of the rom-com genre it was difficult and a little unnerving to see her in a role as a lover of a tragic Irish revolutionary hero.

Sean Connery

Though he is guilty of two offences of slaughtering the Irish accent in both Disney’s Darby O’Gill and the Little People and The Untouchables, Charlie Sheen would probably call him a winner.  Scotland is just over the there.  How on earth did he get it so horrendously wrong?

Matthew Goode – Leap Year

Judging purely from the trailer alone, shame on you Matthew Goode!  Yet another instance of a British neighbour mauling the accent.  As well as that he betrayed us by consigning to a Yankee-tinted Ireland.  In a world where if the potato crop suffered blight, we would see the Famine 2.0 and Amy Adams’ Blackberry short circuits an entire village… Begorrah begosh.

Seamus O’Grady in Charlie’s Angels:  Full Throttle

As if the first Charlie’s Angels failed to produce enough cringe for the world, Full Throttle brought Cameron and co back for more mundane frolics.  This time they were armed with Justin Theroux as Seamus O’Grady, presumably some sort of warped hybrid of a 70s punk-rocker and a ‘RA vigilante.

Jenny Everdeane in Gangs of New York

Cameron Diaz is the most overpaid swindler in Hollywood, just throwing that out there.  Martin Scorsese has a bit of an Irish-infatuation going on this last decade or so.  As an avid enthusiast he should have known better when casting his spunky pickpocket.  Red hair doth not an Irish woman make.

Politician David Norris (Matt Damon) is a front runner in the upcoming election for the United States Senate. Once praised for being one of the youngest ever candidates, Norris’s campaign goes the way of Fianna Fáil when a childish prank of his hits the papers. Norris loses the election, but on the night of his concession speech he happens upon a woman in a bathroom which will change his life for, you guessed it, ever. Norris finds dancer Elise (Emily Blunt) immediately captivating, but what he doesn’t know is that their relationship, if they are to ever have one, is doomed.

Here’s the good news: director George Nolfi must be a trained carpenter, because when it comes to Damon and Blunt, he pretty much hit the nail on the head. The chemistry between these two is so good it could only have happened by mistake. That, or first timer Nolfi is more talented than I gave him credit for.

The bad comprises pretty much everything else. The Adjustment Bureau is made up of a group of radicals who go around ensuring things go according to ‘The Plan’. In the case of David and Elise, The Plan is to keep them apart. If the two become an item, David will never succeed in politics and Elise’s destiny of becoming a world-renowned dancer will never be fulfilled. David, however, decides to ignore all of this and fight off the group at every turn, all in the name of new found love. Aww.

I wasn’t surprised to learn that The Adjustment Bureau is based on a short story. The idea, while admittedly fun, isn’t meaty enough to handle the conversion to screen. The result isn’t a proper sci-fi movie, but rather a “light” version that everyday cinema-goers can enjoy.

Not only is the idea too sparse to handle the full 98 minutes of run time, but many elements of the plot are simply too ridiculous to believe. Now, I know sci-fi isn’t believable by its intent, but when you give top hats the power to open teleporting doorways you’re going to invite some questions about the reasoning behind it, which of course leads way to the plot holes.

If these hats give The Bureau the power to chase Norris through these doorways, why doesn’t Norris find some way to steal them? More importantly, if The Adjustment Bureau has the power to do all they say they can, how come they can’t get Norris to spill a cup of coffee on himself? How come they fail time and time again to keep him and Elise apart, despite their apparent brilliance?

It’s a shame to see such good actors put to such bad use. David and Elise are immediately and forever fathomable. Their relationship is so intriguing that it saves the movie, turning it from a downright silly excuse for a piece of cinematography to an enjoyable – and sometimes exciting – thrill ride. I am adamant that if the producers hadn’t scored them for the parts, there is no way this movie would be getting the critical acclaim it is currently enjoying. Many members of the Bureau – Harry (Anthony Mackie, Night Catches Us) and Thompson (Terence Stamp, Smallville) – are also spectacular in their role which adds further insult to injury.

Ultimately, you’ll enjoy The Adjustment Bureau if firstly, you don’t watch many sci-fi movies or secondly, you’re a big fan of Matt Damon or Emily Blunt. If neither of these are the case, you’ll be haunted from start to finish by the nagging feeling that this is trying to be something it isn’t. It tries to be as intelligent as Inception but what we end up with is a good thriller-come-romance with a bit of sci-fi tacked on here and there.

Oh, and one more thing: why the hell did they give the main character the same name as that jolly gay senator from the Seanad?

Looking for a good date movie or just something to take your mind off things for an hour or two? One word: Disney.

With all the great Oscar movies out lately, us movie buffs have been spoiled for choice. Black Swan, The King’s Speech, The Fighter; all great films, but this week I decided to go see something a little less award hungry. Disney’s latest foray into CGI, fairytales and princesses offers us Tangled.

I’m not ashamed to admit that I’m a Disney junkie. I’m a connoisseur of the House of Mouse. So whenever a new Disney movie comes out, I desperately want to like it. Unfortunately, the last few years have given us such tripe as High School Musical and Hannah Montana so my opinion is tainted. Having said that I went to see Tangled with an open mind, after all Toy Story 3 proved awesome! Turned out, so is Tangled. Glory days, Disney is coming back.

Tangled tells the story of Rapunzel which, as everyone knows, is about a girl who gets locked in a tower and her hair grows to an enormous length, allowing a prince to climb up and rescue her. Tangled thankfully brings a slight change to that story in that Rapunzel is a princess with magic, healing hair and is kidnapped to keep our villain looking young and beautiful.

The prince is turned into a thief who tries to hide out in Rapunzel’s tower after stealing a crown from the royal castle. He meets his match in the young and most naïve Rapunzel who hides his crown and promises only to give it back if he brings her into the real world and away from her tower for a day.

The thing about Tangled that differs from Disney’s usual fairytales is that the emphasis is on the male lead just as much as the princess. Flynn gets as much screen time as Rapunzel and its well deserved. Voiced by Chuck’s Zachary Levi, the character is probably the highlight of the movie. He is, in a word, hilarious. The character of Rapunzel is not really anything new. Charming, beautiful, ambitious but so what? That’s what a Disney princess is!

Tangled also gives us one of the best Disney villains in a long time in Mother Gothel. Not only is she wickedly funny, her strength lies in that she is not very obviously evil. Any Disney fan worth their salt can see that she is definitely homage to Ursula from The Little Mermaid. Even her song, ‘Mother Knows Best’ is the stamp off ‘Poor Unfortunate Souls.’

The visuals of the film are astonishing. The makers planted CGI characters onto painted backgrounds so even though the film looks hand drawn, thanks to CGI, every wisp of hair and blade of grass is stunningly visible. It’s definitely something art students will want to take a look at.

The music is helmed by Oscar winner Alan Menken who has written music for films like Beauty and the Beast and Aladdin so you know it’s good. There’s a lot of humour in the movie, mainly from Flynn and it’s the typical ‘it’ll go over the kids’ heads but adults will get it’ style that Disney is expert at.

But overall, the movie has a heart that we haven’t seen from Disney in a very long time. We got it from Toy Story 3 and we got it from Tangled. All I can say is keep going the way you’re going, Disney, and we might just forgive you for setting Miley Cyrus on us.

As you’d expect, Gnomeo and Juliet is essentially Romeo and Juliet, but with gnomes. However, there’s a little more to it than that. While still set somewhere in Verona, Italy, the gnomes reside in the gardens of two neighbouring houses; the Montagues and the Capulets. For no apparent reason, the gnomes in each garden – the Montagues in blue hats, the Capulets in red – despise one another. They regularly administer pranks on each other and hold lawnmower races in the alleyway between the two houses.

In the opening scenes we’re introduced to our protagonist, Gnomeo of the Montagues, and the apple of his eye, Juliet of the Capulets. Gnomeo, characterised flawlessly by the wonderful James McAvoy, is your typical awkward yet ultimately loveable main character, and Juliet, voiced by Emily Blunt, is your classic rebellious teenager who wants nothing more than to escape the ties of a caring yet overbearing father. Nothing new here, then.

Gnomeo and Juliet, much like their original counterparts, meet entirely by chance. Here, it’s during an illegal escapade into the others’ back garden. The two immediately fall for one another, and spend the rest of the movie trying to hide their forbidden love from the rest of the blue and red-hat clad gnomes.

Are the little gnomes relatable and endearing? Sure, but they’re one-dimensional, sterile, and as predictable as they come. And this is where the movie’s problems begin. It is faithful to the original and should be commended on that fact, but it fails to break the mould and try something new. Really, it is too self-referential for its own good.

Another deal breaker is the lack of comedy. It is entertaining, but about as funny as a mundane, inanimate garden gnome. There are too many romantic montages and too little laughs. The visuals, whilst being nice to look at, are far from spectacular. That said, the environment is detailed enough that it doesn’t impeach on one’s enjoyment of the movie. The soundtrack is similarly mediocre, consisting of nothing more than a mismatch of classic love songs.

Gnomeo and Juliet could have been brilliant. In an effort to remain family friendly, it ignored the best parts of the story to which it alludes – namely, the comedy and the shock tragic ending – and instead cops out and gives the viewer a predictable and decidedly witless finale, one that not even a talking statue of William Shakespeare can save. While it can be rightfully argued that such an ending is essential for younger views, it makes the movie less entertaining for the rest of us.

Romeo and Juliet may be a tragedy, but the only tragic thing about this movie is that it fails, despite its vibrancy, to achieve the level of brilliance it could have so very easily achieved.

The Coen brothers have staked their claim for 2011 Oscar glory with an ambitious Western remake, True Grit (first adapted in 1969 with the illustrious John Wayne in its lead role). Starring Hailee Steinfield as Mattie Ross, Jeff Bridges as Marshal Rooster Cogburn, and Matt Damon as Texas Ranger LeBoeuf, it tells the story of a young girl determined to exact revenge for the murder of her father.

Together with the drunken but accomplished General Cogburn, she strikes off into lawless Choctaw country, where her father’s murderer is said to have fled to. The Texan LeBoeuf also hunts this outlaw, but on a wholly different pretext. Much hype has surrounded this film ever since its release earlier this year at the 61st Berlin International Film Festival.

Once the rather drawn-out exposition passes, three core elements of the film become apparent: the gritty dialogue, the robustly determined acting style and the wonderfully eccentric cinematography. There are many scenes of lengthy duration that consist of two characters discussing, arguing and negotiating various points of view. As can be expected, the Coen’s idiosyncratic dialogue is always on show.

The staccato style dominates, with quick-fire rapid response conversation becoming the order of the day. Jeff Bridges is particularly proficient in this respect. His performance is precise and controlled, while at the same time not failing to elicit comic laughter from the audience. This kind of adept execution is what made Bridges a forerunner in the Best Actor category at the Oscars.

Applause has to go to Hailee Steinfield for her courageous depiction of protagonist Mattie Ross. Barely 14 years of age, she was picked from a list of 15,000 applicants to play Mattie, and boy is this one inspired lead actress choice by the Coen brothers. She plays a tough frontier girl with carefully braided hair, severe eyebrows, and a firm sense of right and wrong.

We sense her earnestness right from the off. The fact that she somehow manages to command the screen, despite the potentially overwhelming presence of two greats in Bridges and Damon alongside her, is testament to her character and also her promising future as a significant Hollywood actress.

In many ways her character is similar to the headstrong heroine played by Claudia Cardinale in Sergio Leone’s classic Once Upon A Time In The West. Weighty comparisons like this are floating around in critic circles, and can only propel her chances of future success. As Yoda might announce: there is much hope for this one!

By now, Roger Deakins has become somewhat of a cinematic legend in his approach to capturing memorable images on film. In True Grit he doesn’t dream of letting up. Throughout the 110 minutes of viewing, a myriad of breathtaking images is brought to our eyes. One such depiction is that of a dead man hanging from an arching tree in the midst of an utterly empty forest.

Deakin’s skilful manipulation of light and the space is on full display here as in other parts of the movie. There is a stunning twilight panorama also (which is nearly worth the admission ticket on its own), where we see the dark silhouette of Cogburn, Mattie and her horse against a perfect velvet-blue sky.

The film is symbolically rich, but only in a directly explicit sense. There is a sense of ‘what you see is what you get’ in True Grit, in contrast to the multi-layered subtleties of flicks such as Darren Aronofsky’s Black Swan. It is very much a funny film, yet never inviting the description ‘comic western’. The villains were less colourful than expected. Carter Burwell has given a conservative soundtrack to the film. Dominated by 19th century Church music, piano numbers abound, many being repetitively unimaginative.

Surprisingly, the Coens (hitherto noted for their uniquely satirical approach to film-making) have largely adhered to Western genre convention. Deakins’ cinematography provides for a sombre movie-going experience, giving the film a darker and more modern feel. But somehow I sense that the Coens could have injected this film with much more verve. Their usual film-making panache is lamentably missing, providing for at times quite a bland cinema-going experience.

The Golden Globes snubbed this film, incredibly so. The Oscars didn’t however, awarding True Grit with ten nominations, including Best Motion Picture. In the film, Cogburn proclaims “we have entered a wild place”: but their dangerous journey is never cast in as threatening a light as it should be. Something is being repressed. In the end, what we are left with is an enthralling, albeit lean, spare and unadorned production. That extra verve that lends films the status of ‘classic’ is missing. What we really have here is, essentially, a film made up of grit. True grit.

3.5 / 5