It’s been a long time since I’ve actually reviewed a film, so I thought, since it’s a new year, I’d have some Kinderly-nerdy fun. Here, in the order that I saw them, are my film experiences from 2005:
The Aviator
Saw it in January. Forgot it by February. The effects were wonderful; the crash scene was stunning; but Scorsese always feels to me like he’s trying to do too much, and this was no exception. The lack of an ending qualifies this.
A Very Long Engagement
Could never, ever live up to Amelie. Still, it didn’t even take it as far as it was able. Farting dogs and chandelier murders? All a bit too zany for a film that was marketed as a sweeping romance, and rather too repetitive for a film that was revealed to be an unfolding mystery.
Closer
Perhaps it worked on the stage; it didn’t work on the screen. A lack of any indication of narrative nor an explanation that we were only present for the beginnings and ends of relationships (something I had to work to find out after seeing the film) made the whole affair terribly confusing, rather like the peculiar was-it-a-twist? reveal at the end that seemed to beg significance without actually having any. It may have been well acted, but the whole thing was thoroughly depressing, thoroughly repetitive, and thoroughly, thoroughly dull.
I promise I will give at least one of this year’s films a good review…
Ocean’s Twelve
But not this one. It gains a low overration factor only because everybody realised it was tosh. What’s stunning is that it was evident that for once a Hollywood sequel had been made because the folks involved wanted to make it; thought they could do something good with it - and still it sucked mighty. It even managed to underwrite the first film by having the team return Benedict’s money - after Danny had stolen it in the first place in part to teach him a lesson.
The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou
Finally! A positive result. And it took until March. The Life Aquatic is one of the sweetest films I’ve ever seen; it’s not raucously funny but it’s far better performed than most of the ’serious’ output of 2005, and if it doesn’t make you smile for the jokes, it’ll make you smile because - well, because that’s the kind of film it is.
Hotel Rwanda
I didn’t come out of the cinema raving about Hotel Rwanda (which is simply to say that I didn’t think it was an instant classic, rather than a subtle way of stating that I dind’t enjoy it; I did), but upon reflection I can’t think of a single thing wrong with it. It made my cry, it made me smile; it was moving without being manipulative and stunning without being exaggerative.
The Interpereter
A disappointment. It’s nice to see a film romance that doesn’t-quite-happen so splendidly, and fascinating to think that the best part of the film was the oh-so-Hollywood bomb-on-the-bus sequence; but the film as a whole is stretched and consequently dull, and the payoff isn’t remotely interesting.
The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy
Given the joyful fuss over each of the previous adaptations of Douglas Adams’ radio play (none of which I’ve experienced), I was expecting this to be something special. It wasn’t, really. There were some nice touches - Bill Nighy showing Martin Freeman the universe under construction was sufficiently awe-inspiring - but, to generalise: it wasn’t particularly funny.
Star Wars Episode III: Revenge of the Sith
Wasn’t much of a vengeance, now, was it? The peculiarly backward title seems symbolic to me of how George Lucas has just done his best to copy elements of the original trilogy in some areas (which, spread over nine years and three films, is a little too much self-indulgence to suffer), and relied on his wallet to sort out the rest. I realise how clichÈ it is to moan about Lucas and his obsession with computer effects, but the criticisms are valid: the characters are non-existent, and without that, there’s nobody to drive the film. It didn’t help that we all knew how it ended.
Mr. and Mrs. Smith
I rather liked Mr. and Mrs. Smith. It was sharp, it was witty; it tried its hardest to not be an action film, and you have to give it maximum credit for that. Hollywood seemed to beat it at the final lap - but the silly gunfight scene at the end can’t ruin what was in fact a delightedly unconventional movie.
Sin City
So here we are. Sin City. My heart pounds with excitement at the prospect of slating this film some more. I detest Sin City. There’s a notion going around that this film is art. It’s not. At best it’s commercial art - which should be a paradox. I can’t deny it points for looking fantastic; I only wish they’d made the content more deserving of the groundbreaking visuals so that I don’t feel nauseous at the thought of sitting through it again.
So here’s why I hated Sin City. Sin City so desperately wants to be a film noir; it acts like one, but, like a fantasising child, however much it may fool itself, the rest of us can see its gaping holes. For starters, Sin City is unreservedly unsubtle where noir holds back; it goes too far where noir knows to push it almost as far as it can go. This complete lack of subtlety extends to all three main protagonists being led to their actions by love. Not only are these catalysts totally unbelievably portrayed in the film, they are unacceptably forward about it. “I love you Goldie.” This is supposed to be film noir. Characters should act out of personal vengeance, out of spite, out of sheer sadism. They should be selfish and cold; if love is used as motivation, it should be nothing more than an excuse.
And then it goes and defecates on that most beautiful of film transitions, the very goddess of editing techniques: the Cut to black. Shoot me for being picky, but there’s nothing more detrimental to a film than a bad edit; and Rodriguez does it over and over and over again throughout Sin City, cutting in the middle of scenes and then pathetically taking us back in. It looked like the projector was faulty. Any atomspheric tension that was intended is totally ruined by the fact that we just return to the same scene a moment later: like telling a joke and forgetting the punchline.
Sin City is the film that my parents want to believe every film is: made only for the sake of sex and violence. Sin City isn’t art, it’s pornography. It is base titillation masquerading as high art, and that’s what I hate most about it: that people believe that it’s worth something.
Those folks at the Guardian said it far better than I can - so read what they had to say.
Batman Begins
Saw it in June. Forgot it a few days later. What I remember about Batman Begins is that at the end, Bruce Wayne and Insert name of love interest here came to the decision that they couldn’t be lovers because it was too dangerous, or some such. It worked in Spider-man, but the “sacrifice your relationship for the greater good” ethos (that was so perfectly blasted in The Incredibles - “I am your wife! I’m the greatest good you’re ever gonna get!”) has become so hackneyed now that it’s a boring clichÈ and for once I’d like to see the superhero get the girl. Mind you, that’s what happened in Spider-man 2, so I supposed that’ll be the way Batman Returns Again and all those other sequels go as well. Christopher Nolan should go back to making grungy films about people again and stay the hell away from Hollywood.
War of the Worlds
War of the Worlds earns a great big maximum overration factor for sake of just four words: A Steven Spielberg film. What is it that makes fans and critics alike sweat with glee at the mention of Spielberg’s name? He’s barely made anything decent since E.T. and Close Encounters, but still he’s treated as film royalty. Don’t give me that look; Jurassic Park may have had groundbreaking effects but good effects do not a good film make (see also: Sin City); it was just another Hollywood action movie, nothing special. The cherry on the Spielberg’s-not-so-great cake is his revolting attraction to happy endings; I have nothing against happy endings, but please reference AI, Minority Report, The Terminal (which was one big bloody happy ending), War of the Worlds and tell me he doesn’t ruin potentially neat ideas with his absurd jollity.
Wow. I’m really getting into slating all these films now.
Kung Fu Hustle
Well, this was something different. Something like a live action Asterix adventure - performed like it was actually a comic book - and for that reason, a little hard to get into. Better than most of the contenders above, though.
Crash
At last, a film I can really rave about. Crash is the only film I saw this year that had the balls to say anything - and something films just don’t dare to say: we’re all racist, it’s normal, and we put up with it and we put with ourselves being that way. There are moments that felt a little too invented - Matt Dillon’s heroics, while brilliantly performed, just seemed like too much of a storytelling trick - but you can’t put down a film that’s so finely written, performed and shot, and so incredibly honest too.
Charlie and the Chocolate Factory
I read several articles wherein Tim Burton, poo-pooing Gene Wilder’s Charlie… claimed that Tim Burton’s film would be much “closer to the book”. What? Roald Dahl’s Chocolate Factory managed to espouse the value of family without a dumb tacked on ending during which Willy Wonka finds redemptoin with his father - a dentist, for Chrissakes. Willy Wonka was never that sadistic. How much more wrong could you make this? The songs are annoying, too. Burton is so good at loveable characters that I would have enjoyed the film if it had been ninety minutes in the Bucket household, but - however much you love Tim Burton’s inventiveness and visual flair - this one left its heart back in that ramshackle old building.
(Sean Burns: “…other Depp performances were internalized in ways this one isn’t. There’s nothing organic about Wonka’s freaky flourishes - we always remain stubbornly aware we’re just watching Johnny being all weird again.”)
Howl’s Moving Castle
I’m not a diehard fan of Hiyao Miyazaki, like so many others are, and I wasn’t as enraptured by this or by Spirited Away as most people. But I must say it’s worth it just for Billy Crystal’s performance as Calcifer: it’s that good.
Serenity
Ah, Serenity. A sci-fi with no aliens and nary a gadget in site; an action film with characters instead of clichÈs; only a film like Serenity could end with part of the hero’s spaceship falling off in mid-flight and the line, “what was that?” And I rather enjoyed it. The lack of extra-terrestrials showed, because this one was actually pretty human.
Wallace and Gromit in the Curse of the Were-Rabbit
I don’t need to say anything more than three words to justify giving this film full marks for quality and a good dose of originality, too. Those three are words are Wallace and Gromit.
Tim Burton’s Corpse Bride
As forgettable as those others films I saw some time. Poor Johnny and Tim seem to be wearing as thin as their plasticine inventions.
Nanny McPhee
It may have sold out for sake of a food fight at the end, the staple of every awful children’s film, but the ninety minutes leading up to it are wonderful. Jonathan Ross suggested it might be “a new classic of its kind”, and I rather hope he’s proved to be right.
The Constant Gardener
This film actually gave me motion sickness - no, really, it did - but I can’t deny that it was spot-on in all areas: the writing, the direction, the acting. Ralph Fiennes pulls off that most difficult of achievements and introduces a character for the audience to be ambivalent towards in the beginning and grow to empathise with before the end. Even the payoff - which delves into plot device territory - just about gets away with it.
The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe
I counted a total of eight characters in this film (Aslan was excluded for not having any), which seemed to me to go against the heavily marketed idea that Narnia is a “fantasy epic”. It’s those little kid’s-television-show coincidences - like Mr. Tumnus being the only other live prisoner we encounter in the White Witch’s palace - that make the whole thing feel so fake. Then, with Aslan’s barmy resurrection (apparently, if somebody innocent is sacrificed in place of somebody who betrayed somebody, they will come back to life approximately ten hours later. Groovy) and his “breath of life”, Lucy’s healing potion and the lack of a drop of blood spilled throughout the entire film, any suggestion of mortality is rendered laughably redundant - which kind of spoils a battle scene, doesn’t it? The childstars were, in fact, very well performed; and, for the most part, the adults weren’t such a letdown either (although the White Witch was pathetically powerless): it was the story and its execution that brought the whole thing down. As for those Christian leanings that director Andrew Adamson claimed he didn’t explicitly intentionally include in the film: what exactly was the “it is finished” at the close of battle? Or Aslan’s (second) exit on the beach? It’s not going to poison my children but for those of us who were aware of the allegory, it really stank.
King Kong
Brilliant. It’s always great when a film comes out with stunning special effects and nobody wants to talk about the computer work. Credit for that this time around goes principally to Andy Serkis, Naomi Watts and Adrien Brody. What can I say? Serkis makes Kong human. The overlong middle section needs highlighting - the bug attack just pushes it too far when the far more fascinating relationship between Ann and Kong has already been established - and a few of those aforementioned effects look really unfinished, but all is forgiven for a film that can make you exit the cinema in love with a big ape.
Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire
Opened better than any of the previous films, then finished rather unspectacularly. Goblet of Fire showed a lot of promise in the early stages: it was moody, fast, aware of itself, and then it fell prey to the same curse that blighted the other three Harry Potter films: being an adaptation of a Harry Potter book. Or perhaps it would be more fitting to call it an “unadaptation”: the only significant changes to be made were the emissions of plot details that might actually explain what went on. But the Potter films seem to be made explicitly for those have read the books - which seems a little redundant, when the celluloid versions are about as close to moving photocopies of the novels as film adaptations can get.
Thus endeth my film year, 2005. Sucked, didn’t it?
