Film
Tony Scott has grown up. With films like Enemy of the State and Crimson Tide to his name, you'd expect the director's latest film to be all 'flash-bang-good-guy-smirks-ever-after'. While Man on Fire has the 'flash-bang', beneath it all is a disturbing and irresistible maturity.
Washington pulls off a demanding role as a troubled bodyguard in Mexico City. Kidnappings and corruption cast terror into the hearts of the city's wealthy and Scott perfectly captures their anxiety. Every bit of your seat will be put to use throughout this film: there's comfortable man-meets-girl cosiness, which is overplayed to Mrs Doubtfire proportions, edge-of-the-seat thrills, and rocking back with shock at some brutal violence - most memorably in the form of explosive suppositories.
Scott's main success however is that your brain, as well as your arse, gets a work out. Man on Fire reckons with some extreme reactions to a world where children are kidnapped and mutilated for money, and corruption drives honesty away. While you'd have to be a couple of brain cells short of a beetroot to lose the thread of the plot, woven into the story are the kind of colourful political and ethical issues that this vile purgatory throws up. We see the full gamut of reactions to the Hobbesian nightmare - from revolting cowardice to brave revolution - but the film remains uneasily poised between them: there's no space for Puritanism in this world. Making all the right - and real - points, the director plays with some cracking uber-Powerpoint subtitles as well as intelligent symbolism to tickle the audience's buttons in a truly innovative way - this ain't no Crimson Tide, kids.
With the frighteningly prolific ten year old Dakota Fanning as the central female character, this film does get tooth achingingly sweet at times. When the cutesy scamp gives big ol' Washington a toy bear, it's almost possible to hear the studio execs at Fox crying. But while the script does make her slap-ably twee at times ("I think he's a sad man, mommy"), Fanning's performance is nothing short of remarkable: to sparkle in a movie when Denzel Washington's got a right strop on is no mean feat; for a ten year old just out of the ordeals of The Cat in the Hat to do it is magic.
Even throughout the film's Mrs Doubtfire phase Scott keeps reminding the audience of the inexorable horror to be faced in this terrorised world. The balance is good, the action is ace. Scott's latest is a triumph.
Connoisseurs of video games will already be familiar with the Resident Evil series, which created the genre of computer survival horror, with its nail-biting suspense and excellent graphics. Filmgoers unfortunate enough to have seen the first Resident Evil film will have realised that these qualities fail to translate onto the silver screen.
The feature directorial debut of former DOP Alexander Witt, and written by notorious sci-fi director, Paul W S Anderson (who scripted and directed the first RE) Apocalypse continues the story of the omnipresent Umbrella Corporation's attempts to develop a bio-weapon using a genetic virus. The virus is accidentally released bringing about the reanimation of the dead as ravenous zombies. As the film begins the virus is spreading amongst the inhabitants of 'Racoon City' and soon the city is quarantined by Umbrella's mercenaries, leaving a handful of survivors looking for a way of escape.
Expecting more than a modicum of acting ability in a zombie computer game adaptation is as realistic as the control Umbrella appears to exert (a city full of people and not one person manages to contact government officials in the outside world).
But director Witt fails to even deliver the staples of the genre: suspense, action or even any tongue in cheek humour. The attempts are there with flimsy excuses for separating characters as they search through buildings, but the shocks are lost in worn out clichés and signposting of danger.
Redemption could have arrived through gratuitous violence, blood and guts, but one suspects the 15 certificate was due to the bad language as there is little to entertain the bloodthirsty.
Avoid this film like a genetically-modified plague.
Inside I'm Dancing tells the story of cerebral palsy sufferer Michael (Robertson), who decides to leave his care home and live independently after meeting rebellious Rory (McAvoy), also confined to a wheelchair due to muscular dystrophy.
To many cinema enthusiasts, films concerning disability leave an unpleasant taste in the mouth. Usually such films are biography pictures, telling the story of an 'extraordinary' personality who overcomes disability to some great result. Despite their worthy content most of these films are exercises in exploitation, coldly pressing audiences' emotional buttons to wring easy tears from their eyes. However, director O'Donnell and a strong cast have removed these clichés and created a witty look at disabled life.
What is so extraordinary in O'Donnell's portrayal of disabled characters is just how ordinary they are. These are living creations, full of anger and not without their faults. As Rory, McAvoy shows us that disabled people can be unpleasant and lewd, and in the context of what has come before cinematically, this is a brave move.
The film only falters in moments of clichéd prejudice against the disabled protagonists, but this prejudice is often met with far fouler retaliation from Rory that ultimately helps keep the film fresh.
Much must be said for the film's humour. Rory's motor-mouth offers brilliant one-liners, whilst Robertson's subtle physical performance offers many humorous moments. One scene concerning interviews for a carer is one of the funniest film moments in recent memory.
While some might be put off by the subject matter, this is a different and witty take on a stale genre, and is one of the most surprising movies you will see all year.
Here's a chance to own the controversial work of the man conservatives love to hate and the highest grossing documentary of all time. Though highly biased, it is packed with information and argument, making repeat viewings satisfying as you begin to sift through the good and the bad, the true and the false. Scenes such as the exploitation of Richard Clarke to attack the administration, while not letting on that it was he who authorized the Bin Laden families' evacuation are telling of the film's variable quality. Yet it is the extras which make this DVD worth having. A second disc is packed with background material from Iraq and Washington, and Dr Rice's 9/11 Commission testimony is not to be missed. Go and buy it, if only to watch that infamous golf scene again and again: "Now watch this drive."
Soundbite of the Week
"Michael Moore wishes he'd videoed his last 200 visits to McDonald's."
The Onion on Supersize Me
14th Oct 2004