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The Meg ★★★★

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Released: 10th August 2018

Directed By: Jon Turteltaub

Starring: Jason Statham, Rainn Wilson

Reviewed By: Van Connor

Hey, remember way back in 2009, when the marketing campaign for Joe Carnahan’s The Grey began promising a badass action flick with Liam Neeson shard-punching wolves in the snow, only for the movie itself to turn out to be a badass existential character drama instead? Well, The Meg ain’t that. Jason Statham fights a shark.

It’s actually fair to say that The Meg has a weight of concept heaped upon it matched only by perhaps Snakes on a Plane more than a decade ago. Jason Statham fights a shark. It’s a concept you can fit in a tweet with room leftover to cram in some end credits to boot. It may, in fact, not quite be as fun – or, indeed, rewatchable – as Samuel L. Jackson taking on cobras on a passenger jet, but don’t think it’s a damp squib – The Meg’s got more than enough bite all of its own.

The knowingly mindless fun of National Treasure director Jon Turteltaub’s latest begins with The Stathe’s underwater rescue expert Jonas surviving an underwater encounter with an unseen creature nobody believes he saw, choosing instead to pin the death of a colleague on pressure-induced insanity. Five years later (the magic buffer period for these kinds of things), Jonas finds himself drafted back into service when a deep sea research vessel finds itself stranded at a previously-unheard of depth in the Mariana Trench – a depth from which a long-extinct megalodon soon emerges to threaten anyone and everything in sight.

Impressively enough, the entire rescue element – serving rather efficiently as not only its own self-contained mini-movie, but also rather stealthily introducing what’ll later seem like potential sequel elements – makes up only the first act of this rather polished and slick comedic creature feature. That structure holds firm for the bulk of The Meg, each act paced with a distinct sense of urgency and knowing prowess, yet singularly self-contained. If Chapter 1 is “Cliffhanger underwater”, Chapters 2 and 3 would best be described as “meta-Jaws” and “the action you showed up for.”

True to form, Statham certainly doesn’t disappoint in the action stakes, and his quippy one-liner driven shtick gets taken for a full-blown joyride here. He’s aided, of course, by a cheekily self-aware screenplay by Dean Georgaris and Jon Hoeber that nails that shtick perfectly, but still finds room to deftly handle some truly bonkers exposition and gift a likeable set of supporting players their opportunity to take centre stage.

Make no mistake, everyone in The Meg – Statham included – is absolutely playing to type. Rainn Wilson’s a smarmy billionaire, Ruby Rose plays her stock badass, and Cliff Curtis may “just” be playing the well-worn “Cliff Curtis character” he’s adopted numerous times throughout his career, but, as with everyone present, the script’s so knowing about who’s playing whom that there’s something downright celebratory about it.

The Meg periodically threatens to slide into increasingly goofy terrain, but there’s a strong tonal balance at play both in front of and behind the camera that keeps any such mishaps at bay – presumably the reason why it’s so much funnier than it should be that Statham, at one point, simply begins referring to a prehistoric shark as “The Meg” as if that’s not only a thing, but something so common you’d say it down the pub when you and your friends are just casually talking about megalodons. As you do.

The tongue in cheek nature of it all just adds to the fun when The Meg jumps heavily into its high-octane set pieces. Some minor CGI quibbles aside, it’s a wild ride. One you can’t boil down to anything more complex than “So. Much. Fun.” admittedly, but The Meg has no designs on being anything other than an action-packed, lighthearted summer thrill ride. Admirable enough ambition, to be sure, and, in a summer in which The Rock’s fought a giant wolf and a giant alligator, The Meg still stands out to prove itself the meanest monster flick on the block.

Keeper of Lola M. Bear. Film critic for Movie Marker, TalkRADIO, and others. Producer of podcasts. Skechers enthusiast and blazer aficionado. All opinions my own.

Movie Reviews

Bad Times at the El Royale ★★★★

Bad Times at the El Royale feels like a throwback to Tarantino in all his 90’s pomp.

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Director: Drew Goddard

Stars: Dakota Johnson, Cynthia Erivo, Jeff Bridges, Jon Hamm, Chris Hemsworth, Lewis Pullman

Released: 12th October 2018 (UK)

Bad Times at the El Royale has seemingly fallen foul of the particularly hectic October release schedule in the U.K. As Venom and A Star is Born dominate the box-office and with the London Film Festival in full swing, El Royale has not received the recognition it deserves.

Boasting an impressive cast, Bad Times at the El Royale follows seven strangers whose stories intertwine at the El Royale hotel in Lake Tahoe. As each person’s agenda for being at the El Royale is revealed, tensions inevitably rises and the characters collide.

From the get-go, El Royale feels like a throwback to Tarantino in all his 90’s pomp. Director Drew Goddard, no stranger to managing madness following his debut A Cabin in the Woods, has crafted an immersive, intricately linked murder-mystery that feels like a grindhouse version of Cluedo. The violence is garish but necessary, the dialogue is short and snappy and the characters are most importantly, interesting. The hardest part of any film with so many moving parts, is making the audience actually bond with those involved. Goddard, who also wrote the screenplay, has nailed this – giving enough back-story for each, whilst holding enough back to keep us learning more.

Between Jeff Bridge’s bad-ass priest, Dakota Johnson’s kill-happy hippy and Chris Hemsworth’s dancing cult-leader, the wider cast have somehow managed to create a credible on-screen dynamic, despite the stark character contrasts. Cynthia Erivo’s soulful singer Darlene is the obvious standout and her interactions with Bridge’s Father Flynn provide some of the most film’s most satisfying scenes. Lewis Pullman’s unassuming concierge Miles is another strong performance deserving of a mention.

The film swaggers along accompanied by its killer soundtrack, which plays a crucial part in the films tonal change from chapter to chapter. It’s dark and violent, yet at times it’s engaging and even emotional. The sharp edits that mash-up the timeline don’t over-complicate the plot, but accentuate the frenzied feeling that Goddard is creating as we head towards the plot’s crescendo.

As expected there are some areas where a film with so much going on inevitably suffers. Jon Hamm’s Seymour is arguably the biggest victim of this, with his character perhaps not utilised as much as it could have been. The film also feels a little too fleshed out in parts, lingering on some of the less necessary aspects and leaving one or two plotlines unexplored as a result.

Bad Times at the El Royale really does feel like a Tarantino movie and that’s no mean feat, Goddard has taken his own style and applied tried and tested techniques to create a compelling, genuinely exciting movie and one that deserves to be enjoyed by a wider audience.

 

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Movie Reviews

LFF 2018 Review – Arctic ★★★★

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Released: 5 December 2018

Directed by: Joe Penna

Starring: Mads Mikkelsen, Maria Thelma Smáradóttir

Reviewed by: Lauren Tina Brady

An expanse of white as far as the eye can see, gently sloping mountains in the horizon, a polar bear pads silently across the snow, pausing briefly to gaze back at the watching man across the valley.

At first Arctic reads as a classic survival narrative; the basic man vs. nature conundrum. I’d recently seen The Mountain Between Us, which draws some very obvious similarities; plane crash, hostile snowy environment, a great expanse needing to be crossed for a chance of survival. However, unlike relying on the pairing of Kate Winslet and Idris Elba for context,  Arctic’s dialogue is bare. This is largely due to the fact that there is only the protagonist for the first third of the film, played by Mads Mikkelsen.

At first it appears to lull you into that false sense of security of knowing exactly how this works out; he sticks to a routine of catching fish, laying out black rocks spelling ‘help’ against the snow and signalling for nearby aircraft. However, crucially, we don’t know who he is. He speaks very little, in both Danish and English. He offers no information to help us piece together a backstory and remains an enigma throughout, which feels fresh. The character becomes more than a person; he becomes the flicker of hope for survival, the spectrum of emotions that occur in the darkest of hours.

There is plenty of drama to keep us on the edge of our seats; he has a chance of escape quite early on – a small helicopter has spotted him and attempts to make it’s way towards him in strong winds leading to a crash. There are two people on board; one is killed with the other, a woman (Maria Thelma Smáradóttir), who survives but is badly hurt and must be cared for. Suddenly the odds of both surviving are halved; the danger is intensified.

Here is a tale of endurance over survival. This is where Mikkelsen excels; he digs deep to portray every possible emotion through a gruelling and ice-cold journey. He is silent but his face says everything. I laughed in delight, I wept quietly. It’s hard to imagine anyone else playing this role.

It’s a feat for Joe Penna, directing his feature film debut. See it for Mikkelsen, stay for the sensitive direction and the stunning cinematography.

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Movie Reviews

LFF 2018 Review – Museum ★★★★

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Director: Alonso Ruizpalacios

Stars: Gael García Bernal, Leonardo Ortizgris, Alfredo Castro

Released: London Film Festival 2018

It’s Christmas Day, 1985. College dropouts Juan Nunez and Benjamin Wilson are ready to pull off an audacious heist that will have authorities searching for professional art thieves for years. Based on a true story, Alonso Ruizpalacios’ film sees the duo attempt to steal 140 priceless artefacts from the National Museum of Anthropology in Mexico City. Winner of the Silver Bear for Best Screenplay at Berlin International Film Festival earlier this year, Museum explores the mindsets of two would be criminals with nothing to lose.

The tale is narrated by Wilson, played with subtle compassion by Leonardo Ortizgris. Wilson’s role is much like Nick’s in The Great Gatsby, an opinionated and somewhat loyally biased eye through which Juan is diluted. Played by Gael Garcia Bernal, Juan is the film’s focus, a Mexican Cool Hand Luke drifting through his young adulthood. In the hands of another actor, Juan may have come off as entitled, lazy even, but Bernal’s performance layers the character with sympathetic naivety and relatable desire. A perennially youthful, multifaceted actor, Bernal paints buckets of emotion into every micro-expression.

The crime takes place after Christmas dinner, a lively family affair that sees Juan alienated and berated. At first, the silence is reminiscent of the hanging scene from Mission: Impossible; the tension equally palpable. But soon the action changes, pared back to a static style similar to the panels of a comic book. It is a technique repeated throughout the film, the continuity broken up into freeze frames that are not quite motionless, still alive with a touch of movement. Reducing these scenes to a childlike fantasy, Ruizpalacios succeeds in creating the ultimate sense of idyllic, youthful adventure.

Something often ignored in heist films is the aftermath, when the thieves must deal with the fallout of their decisions. Museum’s second act focuses on this aspect, allowing the introduction of an English art dealer, played by the superb Simon Russell Beale. Uncertainty builds from the start of their meeting, as the camera endlessly pans until Juan’s misguided perceptions come crashing down around him. In a script littered with intelligence and comedy, it is a pleasant surprise to see the characters’ raw emotion become the focal point.

Ruizpalacios seems content to pose questions that hang wispily in the air, unanswered: questions of cultural ownership, of morality and greed. He is more interested in the character study at the heart of this story, of a man who commits a crime out of boredom, a sense of nihilism or a desire for adventure, or perhaps a little of all three. It is a fresh idea in a crowded genre, making for a film that is impressive but never quite brilliant, a wonderful adventure that doesn’t aim to blow minds. But does that matter? As Juan says and Wilson relays: “Why let the truth ruin a good story?”, a sentiment Ruizpalacios takes quite literally. Luckily for him, Museum is without a doubt a good story.

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