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10 Reasons to see Transformers 3: Dark of the Moon


The latest Transformers movie has been critically panned from virtually every corner. Danny Leigh off that BBC show with Claudia Winkleface is even calling for strike action to boycott the movie in The Guardian and thus send a message to studio execs. But outside elite film critics there must still be a demand for Michael Bay’s franchise. And I bet those of you that are glass half full kind of people, are crying out for some positivity. Wail no more optimistic readers.

1)      Transformers 3: Dark of the Moon is based on a pretty sound and promising premise. It draws on one of the most historic moments in human civilization, the 1969 moon landing, to give a story about toys some narrative heft for the adults. The space race, we discover, was not just a competitive dash to the stars but a sprint for the wreckage of an Autobot ship, containing some alien tech with Godlike powers. But hang on the astronauts look round for a bit and then come home again rather uneventfully…

Aside from the idea there’s the title itself. I mean it’s pretty damn cool to make a film with the same name as a legendary Pink Floyd album! Oh wait, there’s a word missing. But they say Dark Side of the Moon in the movie? Maybe Michael Bay (or some lawyers) decided it was snappier to drop a word.

2)      Or perhaps no one wanted to limit this film to just the one “side”. There are at least three sides available because Transformers 3: Dark of the Moon is out in 3D. In fact with the juggernaut of 3D films slowing, its supporters in the industry are said to be pinning their hopes on Bay’s blockbuster because his trademark CGI pyrotechnics look stunning via the magic shades. I saw it in 2D because I wasn’t keen on paying more for a film I didn’t really want to endure. But let’s stick with the positives.

Transformers 2: Revenge of the Fallen makes a case for being one of the worst films of all time. I haven’t even seen it (mostly because of the sheer force of the derision) but you know a film is bad when its director and star use words like “shit” and “crap” just seconds after they are no longer contractually obliged to promote it. The original Transformers was surprisingly good though and critical consensus is that this is substantially better than the sequel. The downside for Michael “Boom-Bang-Bam” Bay is that most reviewers are merely saying Transformers 3 is better to illustrate how atrociously bad the second instalment was.

3)      Damn I said I would stick with the positives didn’t I? Well there are always two big ticks alongside Michael Bay’s name. He is consistent and he always provides plenty of bangs for your buck. I saw the first Transformers by accident all those years ago and I was won over primarily by Bay’s competent handling of stuff frequently exploding into thousands of shards of glass and chunks of concrete. In Transformers 3, if you stick with it for over an hour, you get to see Chicago flattened. In one scene the human characters slide through a skyscraper as it collapses. Then they slide through it again. Then more stuff blows up. Then some more. Then there’s some slow mo. And a bit more. Something else goes bang. You lose interest.

4)      Alright there are some negatives. Like the constantly annoying and yelping Shia LaBeouf.

5)      But surely these are more than outweighed by the presence of Rosie Huntington-Whiteley? It was a big ask to find someone to replace Megan Fox’s assets but British lingerie model Rosie was named FHM’s sexiest woman of 2011. Physically she easily fills the implausibly hot girlfriend role. Bay knows he’s working with a thing of beauty, panning the camera down her body in the middle of action sequences.

Unfortunately her performance has been chewed, swallowed, digested and vomited onto a pile of steaming fresh elephant dung by every single critic. Surprisingly I thought her acting was worse when she was simply required to scream. We see her getting dressed from behind briefly at one point and in a couple of revealing dresses but not sufficiently unclothed to warrant the price of admission. Having said that Bay does his best to reduce every single female extra to eye candy by ordering them to strut about or look scared in something short.

6)      On the plus side! John Malkovich appears in what might be a mildly amusing but pointless cameo in a film that was at least an hour shorter.

7)      Ken Jeong also shows up as essentially his character from The Hangover, minus any of the sometimes funny rudeness. He is vital to one of the many baffling and needless sub plots. Which leads me to reason number eight…

8)      A glorious two and a half hour runtime may make any of the microscopically good things in this film meaningless but it has its beneficial effects as a sedative. You’ll be capable of falling into a sleep so deep that a succession of nuclear wars wouldn’t wake you after Bay has left you numbed and extremely bored by repetitive scenes of endless destruction.

9)      Actually there aren’t even 10 fake reasons to see it.

I have completely failed to live up to my nickname of Optimist Prime…

Lets do Something Different – Weird and Wonderful Places to Watch Films


 “Shall we do something different?”

Yes please. Different is good. Different is a much needed break in routine, a relief from the crushing weight of the same-old-same-old cycle and an antidote to incoming insanity. Different is the much missed friend putting an end to the loneliness, at least for a while. Different is a reminder that life is full of innumerable things to make your heart leap and your mind spin excitedly.

Most of the time though I’m a useless person to ask for something different to do. It might be because I’ll be perfectly content in your company doing something mundane. Or it might be that no matter what we find to do, I’ll be unmoved by your presence and wishing you into someone else.

I’d like to think it’s because I think and dream too big. “Different” whisks my imagination off to alternative, culture rich lives in majestic European cities, seedy exploring and wandering in the downtown sprawl of Tokyo or star gazing from the core of the Big Apple. “Different” means a totally new me, another identity in another world; sitting in sleek sci-fi surroundings or standing at the corner of a glamorous Hollywood set from yesteryear. Maybe a different me would be knuckling down to a novel, screenplay or acclaimed biography.

Whilst I do spend too much time conjuring these far from feasible fantasy scenarios in my head, in reality I am narrow minded and imprisoned by the familiar. We all know what it’s like to be bound to the events of a set cycle and the trick to fulfilling lives is packing your itinerary with interesting and varied activities. Or perhaps it’s not. Perhaps it’s all about character and personality.

Everyone has a carefree friend and they’ll probably tell you to be spontaneous. They’re the ones who come up with the different ideas. My organisation fetish is perhaps incompatible with this zest for life and ability to not just put on a brave face or forget your worries, but forget you have the capacity to worry. These are the people that will pluck two random and achievable everyday things out of the air to create an enjoyable, “different” experience.

And so I come to the point: last night I watched a film with a friend on a laptop on a rural hill. She won’t be offended if I say that she’s not exactly carefree and laidback, so we were both rather surprised when she suggested such a random idea. It was a regular local beauty spot “with a twist”. It was different. Wonderfully and refreshingly different.

It some ways it hardly matters what the film was. The novelty was the important thing. Even having a laptop in my car, combining two things that I use everyday for the first time, provided inexplicable satisfaction. It might have been simply that a portable computer was truly mobile and that in theory we could watch a film or play solitaire anywhere my petrol tank could take us. I think I overcame most of the technological thrills to be gained from a laptop a while ago now though, so all I can really say, once again, is that it was different, it was new, and that this is what was so pleasing.

We watched Flight 93, a drama about the fourth plane to crash on the 11th September 2001 and the only one not to hit its target, due to the bravery of the passengers onboard. It was a rather heavy and “emotionally harrowing” thing to watch in the dead of night on a blustery hilltop. But we’d been meaning to watch it for AGES and maybe the delay deserved a grand, a different, setting.

I’m not going to review Flight 93. It has its faults, from dodgy CGI to flimsy characterisation, and felt like very melodramatic TV drama, but its aims in telling such a story were admirable. If this is a review it’s a review of a location.

So transforming a sweeping vista of a countryside valley into a personal cinema experience was easy – but was it worth the relatively minimal effort?

Well the “wow factor” of having stunning scenery casually in the background to the action of the story, was almost non-existent, because it was pitch black. We both agreed, obviously, that it was a more beautiful and stunning sight in daylight. However the dots of light twinkling below, decreasing in number as the film progressed, were a more interesting backdrop than the usual living room picture or bedroom clock.

What about the atmosphere? I think this was definitely enhanced in some ways by our elevated location. Given the film’s subject matter, the height of our position went a tiny way to making us feel in the air on a plane, certainly more than sitting at home. I guess we were also in a vehicle and the handbrake groaned a couple of times, so we may have felt a fraction of that helpless dependency on machinery.

The most atmospheric thing was probably the howling wind. Wrapped in darkness, I could feel the isolation of the people on Flight 93, separated from their families and loved ones by deadly danger. I felt I could imagine their intense loneliness a little better, filtering it through my own memories and the solitary surroundings of my car. And the sound of that wind rocking us was just a hint of the noises that would have terrified them.

Perhaps the best thing was the privacy. It’s great to watch films as part of an audience, each person reacting in their own individual way and passing on part of their experience to those around them, but films like Flight 93 are built on the personal. Our very different auditorium allowed us to digest our own reactions to Flight 93 in comfortable darkness, whilst also sharing our thoughts with the very best company, not just strangers or any old popcorn muncher.

I live in England and the drive-in cinema is an American phenomenon but even stateside it’s something that has largely become cultural heritage. What I learnt this weekend though is that getting out there to watch films definitely has its merits, particularly with the right friends.

Forgive me if I got overexcited about this. I’d love to hear the best and strangest places you’ve watched films. I know it’s possible to take the cinema anywhere these days, so go on, surprise me. Or surprise yourselves with a cinematic excursion.

Torchwood to return in summer 2011 with Miracle Day


Captain Jack Sparrow has recently returned to swashbuckling action at sea in Pirates 4. Not to be outdone, John Barrowman’s Captain Jack Harkness of Torchwood is soon set to burst back onto our screens. But the Americans will be getting the first look.

Just as the latest series of Doctor Who began in the US, its spinoff is going stateside. And judging by the trailer (see bottom), in a very big way. The last series of Torchwood, Children of Earth, took it away  from both its ties to Doctor Who and its naff storylines in favour of one epic plot. The fruits of the BBC’s colloboration with American company Starz appears to be vastly higher production standards and cinematic scale to realise such scripts.

Once again there seems to be just the one key plot with more adult sci-fi themes. Last time it was governments bribing an alien with children to avoid an attack. This series has the big idea of – what would happen if everybody stopped dying? 

This is an interesting theme, given that, as fans of the show will know, Captain Jack cannot die because after he was killed by the Daleks in the first series of modern Doctor Who, Billie Piper’s Rose Tyler brought him back to life using the energy of the TARDIS. Which yeah makes him immortal somehow, don’t ask me watch the show.

After series 2 of Torchwood I had given up on it. The idea of an adult sci-fi show, Spooks meets Doctor Who, was an immensely exciting one. The first ever episode, about a sex crazed alien, was pleasing enough for teens but hardly satisfying sci-fi storytelling, a waste of the premise and a taste of most of what was to come. Children of Earth restored my faith and now the trailer for Miracle Day looks mindblowing.

It will benefit from discarding most of the original cast in favour of better known and probably more capable Americans. And hopefully, with Russell T. Davies also now free of Doctor Who duties, he can give it his best rather than his disappointing worst. The differences between the RTD era and Moffat’s reign, coupled with the new direction of both series, makes the dream combination of Torchwood and Doctor Who unlikely for fans in the near future though.

Anway enough waffling teasing. Here’s that trailer. A really pleasant surprise. WARNING: British viewers, a helicopter actually realistically blows up!

http://bit.ly/mnvAoR

Torchwood: Miracle Day lands in America in July. And if the BBC know what’s good for them it will air here shortly after.

The Disappearance of Alice Creed


The Disappearance of Alice Creed is the sort of film that it’s almost impossible to talk about or review without puncturing and spoiling the drama for those yet to experience it. And an experience is what the film provides; even if some berk lets slip a key plot detail there are more than enough twists, turns and unforeseen, sudden plunges on this tense rollercoaster ride to keep you entertained and constantly clueless. It’s the sort of film that has you on the edge of your seat, scanning every scene for minute details that might seem insignificant but will later prove to be vital hinges around which the hyper plot will pivot. Just when you reckon you’ve cracked where things are heading, something totally unexpected will grab you by the lapels and catapult you back to square one. Here you’ll lie briefly, dazed in the dust, before picking yourself up eager for more.

That’s not to say that every swerve woven into the script is a surprise, as in most films some will loom obviously in the distance, with the audience merely asking themselves “when” and “how” as opposed to “what” will happen next. This is a largely original thriller that also loses much of its unique edge at the end as all the indecipherable good work that has gone before must somehow be wrapped up. But on the whole this is an accomplished directorial debut from J.Blakeson, who also wrote the ambitious and resourcefully realised script. Not only is this a movie that delivers as a thriller but working with limited possibilities and an enclosed space it also develops fascinating characters that are for the most part captivating enigmas impossible to unravel.

The reason that the characters hold our attention so intensely and for so long is the steadily racked up tension, combined with only a meagre drip of information about who they might be. Crucially there are also only three characters in the entire film. The first five minutes are completely dialogue and mostly noise free, with only the soundtrack beginning to wind up the intrigue. We watch as two men methodically and meticulously transform a dilapidated flat into a prison, with some slow and beautifully shot scenes at a DIY store and car park contrasting impressively with more frenetic scenes later on. Then the near silence explodes into noise, with the Alice Creed of the title bundled into the back of a van, squirming and screaming. She is then stripped naked, still screaming, on a bed back at the newly fortified containment cell. The sound of her tearing clothes and panicked breathing dominates.

Gemma Arterton, as the title character, gets considerable opportunities to show off her acting chops, despite most of the dialogue going to her kidnappers, Eddie Marsan and Martin Compston. Marsan is often called upon for minor roles in big Hollywood productions, such as his recent Inspector Lestrade in Guy Ritchie’s Sherlock Holmes, and it’s refreshing to see his full impressive range on show here as the key kidnapper Vic. Arterton too has been confined to generic female roles in big budget movies, with a brief and comic turn in Bond movie Quantum of Solace perhaps her most famous appearance so far. In the BBC’s latest adaptation of Thomas Hardy’s Tess of the d’Urbevilles she took the lead role and had the space to prove her ability but in many ways her performance here is more convincing, as we watch her do so much with so little. With only three characters for the complex story to work with none is really more important than the other, but if anything Compston’s Danny is the most central figure, and like his fellow cast members he produces a superb and powerful performance.

The Disappearance of Alice Creed is a reassuring tribute to the raw power of narrative when all the luxurious additions of blockbusters are peeled away, leaving the bare essentials of storytelling: character and plot. These are the only ingredients talented directors and writers like J.Blakeson really need.

Doctor Who Series 5: The Verdict


I feel guilty that after airing my views on that early teaser trailer on this blog, warning that this series may fall short, it is only now that I have found the time to correct myself. However that is largely due to the fact that I have enjoyed this series so much that to sit down and analyse both its successes and failings after each individual episode would have spoilt the experience. In truth though the vast majority of my doubts for the future of the nation’s beloved Timelord had been dispelled following Moffat’s first episode, The Eleventh Hour. This extended adventure abandoned the repetitive London setting of the Russell T. Davies era and brilliantly ushered in a whole new set of characters and relationships, along with a regenerated Doctor. My greatest concern, the ability of Matt Smith to replace Tennant in the role, was also mostly alleviated by his first performance alone.

That is not to say this series has not had its disappointments. When Moffat has personally penned an episode there have been no problems with quality or balance, but other writers struggled to successfully tick all the Whovian boxes. The first episode to disappoint was The Victory of the Daleks, although to be fair this may have been because expectations were disproportionately raised by the sight of Churchill and the pepper pot villains in the trailer and were impossible to live up to in a single episode. Perhaps the worst episodes of the series were the Silurian double bill set somewhat unbelievably in a Welsh mining town undergoing a globally ambitious drilling project, staffed by the odd local. I think it was a mistake to follow the rurally set Amy’s Choice, one of those brilliant low budget, idea heavy episodes stuffed with terrific acting performances, humour and insight into the Doctor’s character, with another village location and casually brush aside the glaring lack of funds by having the Doctor insist he had been aiming for Rio. This two part story also felt thin and unable to properly engage for two whole weeks. A promising start, of Amy being sucked into the earth, gave way to a predictable storyline of culture clash and negotiation, with crudely drawn Silurian and human characters.

Following this Richard Curtis’ Van Gogh episode was also weak, despite some nice flourishes. The gaping hole in the strength of Curtis’ tale was the fact that the monster of “pure evil” only Van Gogh could see turned out to be an irrelevance, easily dealt with and disconnected from the heart of the story. In many ways it may have been better to dispense with the monster completely and simply have the Doctor indulge in a spot of emotional time travel, as this is clearly all Curtis wanted to do and in the final scene he did it wonderfully movingly. I was also not enthused by The Lodger despite generally positive reviews of it elsewhere. For me the basic premise of the plot could have been much more satisfactorily explored (I mean something was building a TARDIS??? What?) and the sight of James Corden on television is beginning to verge on repulsive.

Having said this that episode did offer an unblemished close up of the eleventh Doctor’s character, charisma and performance. For me the most pleasantly surprising thing about this series has been the ease with which Matt Smith has become a Timelord and banished nostalgic longing for Tennant. His interpretation of the character has seen a refreshing return to a more detached, alien figure, as by the end of RTD’s tenure Tennant’s Timelord was still lamenting the loss of Rose and envying his duplicate’s mortal existence with her. It’s clear that each actor playing the Doctor draws heavily on his predecessor however, and Smith clearly embraces much of Tennant’s lunacy, whilst also reviving the arrogance embodied in Eccleston’s leather swagger. For me it seems only fitting that the last of the Timelord’s should have such a high minded view of himself and Smith plays the Doctor brimming with a quirky, bumbling confidence of his own. Karen Gillan also brings assurance and feisty fire to the role of redhead Amy Pond. The actress has been at her best when not trundling out generic whiny phrases in a thickening Scottish accent, but in rare glimpses of emotion such as during the scene when she could not open her eyes, surrounded by Weeping Angels. The return of these stealthy statues from critically acclaimed Blink was a gamble for Moffat but one he pulled off spectacularly. He must also gain much credit for Smith’s fresh take on the Doctor, as his writing emphasises both the marvellous methodical detective and mad professor in him.

Indeed there seems to be no doubt that most of what is good about this new look Doctor Who is down to new head writer Steven Moffat. Previous contributions to the RTD series made his talent for exploiting childhood fears evident, but given creative control over the show he has shown an aptitude for the perfect two part episode and a gripping narrative arc. I have already praised the opening episode but the second, The Beast Below, thrilled me. It had a chilling cocktail of scares, “smilers”, floors sliding away in lifts, a shadowy government (led by the demon headmaster!), and also established Amy’s competence as a companion in a unique, imaginative way (Britain floating on a space whale!) that said something about the Doctor. The return of the Weeping Angels managed to capture the brilliance of the original by acknowledging the need for a different type of story, with Moffat himself comparing it to the greater scale of Aliens 2 following Aliens. And after all the teasing about cracks in time, what a finale last weekend!

Episode 12, The Pandorica Opens, was fantastically bold in scale and again the setting of Roman Britain was a refreshing departure from the RTD trend of grand finales unravelling in present day London. After several twists and turns the Doctor was imprisoned within the Pandorica by an alliance of his foes, as the TARDIS began to explode and destroy the universe itself. It was difficult to predict the direction of episode 13, but one would have guessed some sort of reckoning for the Doctor with his formidable coalition of villains and an explanation as to who, or what, was manipulating the TARDIS and causing it to explode. Certainly what sounded like the voice of Davros could be heard in episode 12, cackling that “silence will fall”.

However much to my relief Moffat continued to surprise, as Davros would have been a tired end to such a fresh new series. Moffat seems to recognise the key to successful double episodes is contrast, and so the Doctor went from facing a horde of enemies to a solitary, ailing Dalek and the little problem of a “total event collapse”. Cue some gloriously fun time hopping involving a fez and a mop and a performance ranging from daft brilliance to retrained pain from Smith that confirms his evolution into the last Timelord. The significance of the wedding was at last explained and Rory and Amy restored to the TARDIS, all set for new adventures, with the huge questions of River Song and who caused that explosion still to be answered.

All in all Moffat has rebooted the show, just as the Doctor hit refresh on the universe  with the “Big Bang 2”, and restored a sense of the magical and fairytale by always surprising and sometimes replacing the blockbuster scale of RTD’s tenure with classic, intimate scares (e.g. the headless Cyberman in episode 12 vs. the hordes of them in RTD stories). Best of all as this fairytale series comes to an end it feels as if it is only the set up for something greater to come.