127 Hours

 

It is little surprise that News broadcasters jumped on Aron Ralston’s story in the way they did. In May 2003, Aron went canyoneering in Utah’s wilderness, only to have his arm irreversibly trapped by a boulder. After five days of struggle his only solution was to take a dull knife and amputate his right arm in order to implement his escape. The story is a testament to the power of the human will. It is also, without doubt a great talking piece. I remember hearing about it on the radio and debating with friends whether they thought they were capable of committing to such feats of human endurance and self-harm.

In short, Aron’s story makes for an excellent 5 minute news story, but does it work when stretched out to feature length?

It works, and it does so with some aplomb, largely thanks to the pairing of director Danny Boyle and lead-actor James Franco. Boyle’s frenetic energy, invention and probing camera are the driving force of the film. Just see, for instance, the camera follow Franco as he dives from a cavern into a pool of water below. 127 Hours has a kind of innovative force at its core that ensures it’s never less than beautiful to look at.

Granted, there are times when Boyle throws everything, including the kitchen sink at the camera (taking this expression to heart, he even shows us three angles of a tap dripping at one stage) in a way that can frustrate rather than animate. Picture a car commercial whose emphasis is on having a rousing soundtrack and fitting as much as it possibly can into its run-time. But as the film’s frantic pacing eases after its first-third to acknowledge Aron’s isolation, I must concede that 127 Hours' off-kilter pace serves a purpose and is worth the payoff.

Aron Ralston has led his life like he’s the star of his own action film. Being trapped in a canyon, miles away from any civilization, is, no doubt something of a wake-up call. He isn’t an invulnerable Jason Bourne type figure; he’s a human-being, all too capable of making mistakes.

Given the nature of the story, 127 Hours is very much a performance piece. It is the story of one man trapped in a canyon desperately trying to engineer his own escape. Yes, Aron does run into a couple of passer-bys and other people do feature in his flashbacks, but it is his presence that dominates the screen. Thankfully, James Franco throws himself with abandon into the role, no doubt aware that the film flies or dies with his performance. He is capable of casting Aron as both an action-hero, adventurer-extraordinaire and a lonely, desolate, hopeless individual.

127 Hours is the story of a man undergoing an epiphany. A young man learns to abandon a sense of independence that often borders on selfishness and accept others into his life. It is, essentially, the story of a man learning to leave a note whenever he goes out. Thanks to James Franco I bought this all the way. Never have the words “I need help”, had such gravitas.

Then, of course, there comes the scene where-in, Aron has to amputate right arm below the elbow with a dull knife. Before he can do this, he has to break his arm so that he can avoid sawing through bone. It’s as uncomfortable as one might expect and only goes to support my overwhelming feeling that if I were placed in Aron’s position, I wouldn’t have the guts or the wherewithal to do what needed to be done.

It’s a testament to Boyle’s directorial prowess that most of the discomfort arising from that scene arises from mere suggestion, rather than any explicit or superfluous focus on the act itself. Despite this, perhaps the biggest compliment I can offer Boyle’s film is that it manages to be both emotionally gripping and physically repulsive – a remarkable achievement.

I have only one question. How on earth did Aron manage to put his wristwatch on with one hand?

THE SORCERER'S APPRENTICE

Alongside Prince of Persia: The Sands of Time (utterly forgettable) The Sorcerer’s Apprentice was one of Disney’s two tent pole releases this summer – both of which flopped. It sees an increasingly bedraggled Nicolas Cage (no, it’s not just the makeup) team up with bombastic producer Jerry Bruckheimer once more. The pair previously worked together on the National Treasure franchise, which unsuccessfully attempted to emulate the Indiana Jones series. Now, however, they’ve narrowed their focus unto the Sorcerer’s Apprentice segment found within Disney’s Fantasia and have expanded it, removed the Mouse and built a world around it. 

That’s the one segment that everybody seems to remember from Fantasia. Many cherish and adore it, but does this expanded version of it work and was Jerry Bruckheimer the right man for the job?

The simple answer to both questions is “no”. The film lacks in the subtly and genuine sense of terror that the original Disney segment mustered so effortlessly. Bruckheimer squeezes the $150 million budget for all it’s worth, but isn’t capable of conjuring anything other than a nice looking mess.

Cage plays Balthazar Blake a sorcerer who shuns the red cloak, blue hat look for something approaching Hobo-chic. After being imprisoned inside an urn for 1250 years, he awakens in modern-day New York to find himself re-embroiled in a battle between good and evil that has been raging throughout time. His arch-nemesis Maxim Horvath (Alfred Molina – who channels Oscar Wilde at his most menacing) is attempting to reawaken the Sorceress Morgana le Fay (Alice Krige) who in turn hopes to use her powers to destroy the world. At no point does the film attempt to establish why she’d want to do this. It’s clunky, tab A into slot B stuff.

Blake’s only ally in this battle is Mickey Mouse’s human avatar, Dave Stutler (played by Knocked Up’s Jay Baruchel) who he believes to be a descendent of Merlin himself – or a ‘prime Merlinian’, as he’s referred to at one point. Baruchel does a good job injecting his character with a kind of nerdy eagerness but is unable to create any real chemistry with co-star Nic Cage.

The money that was thrown at this film is evident. It looks good, the CGI is great (apart from a questionable looking CGI dragon) and the action whizzes by nicely. Unfortunately, there’s little to support the impressive visuals. The story manages to be both convoluted and predictable. There’s no sense of impending doom or catastrophe and none of these characters ever appear to be under real threat. It never once summons the sense of dread that the original Disney segment did within moments.

Then there’s the soppy romance between Baruchel and Teresa Palmer, who plays Rebecca Barnes, an icy blonde who Dave has had his eyes on ever since he was a little nipper. The film opens with a sequence where ten year old Dave hands Rebecca a piece of paper asking whether she wants to be his girlfriend, she hands the paper back, but alas! It’s caught by the wind and Dave is forced to give chase. Thus begins an overly elaborate chase sequence which ends with young Dave humiliating himself in front of the girl of his dreams (he pees his pants – there’s no coming back from that). The sequence occurs only because it’s necessary to move the plot forward. Most normal human-beings would choose to simply interact with their loved ones using their vocal chords and not put so much stock in a piece of paper, but there you are.

It’s endemic of the lengths that this film will go to crowbar in one action sequence after another instead of developing character. When Rebecca reveals what she wrote on that little slip of paper towards the end of the film, did director Jon Turteltaub really expect us to care? Palmer’s character is allowed to utter only clichés and she does so with all the conviction of a bored call-centre worker.

If the actors aren’t invested in this little money-spinner how are we supposed to be? The Sorcerer’s Apprentice got the kicking it deserved in the box office and I hope Bruckheimer scurried away with his tail between his legs. I hold out little hope for Pirates of the Caribbean 4.

LAST TRAIN HOME

The pace of economic change in China is nothing short of astonishing. Economic reforms began some 30 years ago, triggering a period of sustained growth that many consider to be a ‘miracle’. This surge of capital is unlike anything any nation state has been subject to for the last 50 years and it’s clear that it’s going to continue. Here’s a fun fact: every month China produces so much excess cash that they could easily use such money to head out into the international market and buy two or three of Britain’s biggest companies and corporations. This month they could easily snap up British Petroleum, Vodafone and Tesco, next month they could go for Barclays, British Telecom and J Sainsbury. Remember the fuss that was generated when American-owned Kraft purchased our beloved Cadburys? China could have produced the surplus cash needed for such an investment in the space of about a week; indeed, the purchase would have amounted to them spending a small amount of pocket change.

Whether China goes the way of Japan, who some twenty years ago had their own economic growth spurt brought to an abrupt end after a serious and fatal asset bubble (whereby the price of Japanese assets saw themselves seriously over-inflated due to surplus-demand) or if it continues along the path towards being an economic superpower remains to be seen. One thing we do know for sure is that any growth of this nature is sure to increase the gap between the rich and the poor significantly. These monetary changes have effected a period of rapid urbanization, which has seen millions of farmers and rural workers move to the cities, bringing about environmental retrogression, a large amount of unemployment and a gap in income that is growing unthinkably large. This is the story of Last Train Home, director Lixin Fan’s documentary film that gives life and character to the detrimental effects of China’s rapid, uncontrolled growth. It throws light on the dark heart of China’s economic miracle.

Every year 130 million or so migrant Chinese workers make a living in dank, soulless, and de-humanising factories producing the goods which power the Chinese economy. In most cases this requires the worker to be away from their family for the space of an entire year – returning home only during the Chinese New Year. It is by this mass human exodus of Chinese migrant workers that the film receives its title – these individuals have to scrabble on board a train that is too compact and too slow and suffer through the largest human migration in the world.

By choosing to focus on this journey, on the separation of families and on the distance and differences between China’s rural past and industrial future, Last Train Home can be seen as document regarding the gaps of all shapes and sizes that have been formed in Chinese society by their economic miracle. Not just the gap that has formed between the rich and the poor, or between industry and agriculture, but also the gap that such economic toils create between individuals that love each other. Perhaps this is why Last Train Home is such an affecting film – it operates on a uniquely human level. We take it for granted that what matters most is not money, but the human relationships that we form over the course of our lives and yet for many in China it is an economic necessity that these relationships be waylaid.

Lixin Fan smartly chose to detail this struggle by focusing on the story of one family trapped in these demoralizing and soul-crushingly glum circumstances. It follows the Zhang family, the mother and father of which left their two children to be raised by their Grandma for 16 years, as they followed a seemingly endless cycle whereby they would work for a year, return for the New Year and head back out to work soon after. Such sacrifices were made in the name of seeing their children through school and hopefully onwards to a life. However, their teenage daughter Qin does not see things this way. She is wracked with a sense of abandonment and rejection which soon manifests into an unerring desire to escape from both her parent’s expectations (that she goes to school, makes a living for herself and doesn’t have to suffer in the same manner that they have to) and from a future that she has no control over. Some of her decisions may appear at first to be disarmingly selfish, but deeper thought reveals them to be entirely natural. There are no bad people in this film; there are only people who are trapped by their own dependence on a broken, manipulative system that throws lives into disrepute. Even when the father, Mr Yang Zhang loses his way and lashes out brutally at his daughter, it’s easy to see it as the consequence of his own tragic embroilment within this system that has left him beleaguered and emotionally insecure.

Lixin Fan’s film went down pretty well with the critics at Sundance this year (it still has 100% on rottentomatoes) and you can see why. This is an undeniably powerful and gently forceful film. It gets its point across without being shouty, pointy or polemical. It is all the more affective for being a simple but effective story about one family’s misfortunes set against the background of a much wider tragedy. Whilst not exactly pleasant or feel-good viewing, Last Train Home remains essential viewing for anyone with any interest in the workings of the economy, cultural anthropology and the manner in which human beings relate to one another.

THE SECRET OF KELLS

Whoever pitched The Secret of Kells as an animated children’s movie must have received a few stony-faces. The film re-imagines the creation of the Book of Kells, an illuminated Gospel manuscript created by Celtic Monks around 800 A.D., and still considered to be the zenith of western calligraphy. Of course a movie about calligraphy wouldn’t sit too well with groups of hyper-active kids, so The Secret of Kells combines the historical with a sense of imagination and adventure. Taking its cues from Irish folklore and the likes, the movie plays like an amalgamation of a number of different fairy tales. It hops along at a giddy pace, bouncing ideas around and looking beautiful all the while.

The story is set in an isolated Irish Abbey community which is trying desperately to improve its defences against viking attack.  However, the Abbot’s nephew, 12-year-old Brandon isn’t interested in aiding his uncle’s attempt to build a huge wall around the abbey, preferring instead to illustrate manuscripts with a gang of monks in the scriptorium. Soon Brother Aidan, a master illuminator, joins the community after being forced out of his home by the vikings, and he soon takes Brandon under his wing. He brings with him a book which he hopes to complete during his stay at the Abbey of Kells. Soon enough, in order to help Brother Aidan, Brandon is forced to venture outside the abbey walls into a world of forest spirits, mythical creatures and deadly vikings.

The visuals are something to behold. The animators must have studied the look and aesthetic of the Book of Kells and attempted to mimic a similar yet contemporary style. It has an antique, decorative feeling unnatural amongst most animated movies. There’s a particularly stunning sequence when the vikings finally break through the defences at the Abbey of Kells, where the animators limit themselves to a palette of red, black and white, with brilliantly striking effect. As for the vikings themselves, they are represented by fearsome, shadowlike, horned spectres that drift across the scenery with a regal ease.

The story’s imaginative, if a little convoluted. One criticism that I might level towards the film is that it attempts to get too much into its short 75 minute running time. Regardless of this, there’s a reason why the film was nominated for the 2009 Oscar for Best Animated Feature. It’s a true original, in terms of style and attitude. Children are sure to be entertained and adults will be glad that it’s something a little different from the usual family fare they are forced to take their kids to. Even if the story leaves you a little cold, the visuals give you more than a little to hang on to.

IRON MAN 2

The original Iron Man film, released in back in 2008, formed a pretty solid one-two punch with The Dark Knight. Together they reasserted the Superhero movie as a critically viable and commercially successful enterprise. Yet, Iron Man differed significantly in terms of mood from Nolan’s Batman offering.  The Dark Knight was about as broody as a fertility clinic and as cheerful as a morgue, Favreau’s Iron Man attempted to capture the comic’s sense of fun. In terms of mood, it’s much closer to Raimi’s Spiderman films. This was a breath of fresh air for critics who were growing tired of these grandiose and ‘worthy’ Superhero origin stories that lock onto a serious mood from the very first scene and rarely relent for a smile throughout.

The film had a naturalistic feel uncommon to superhero flicks and the dialogue was zippy and spontaneous. The whole production felt as fresh as a squirt of Febreeze. It was also a fantastic and deserved success which, of course, necessitated a sequel. As is often the case with follow-up efforts, Iron Man 2 aims for the sky, but is weighed down by a lack of focus, a cocktail of contrary moods and a general lack of bonhomie. If I could ask Iron Man 2 one question, it would be this: Why so serious?

The film begins with Tony Stark (Robert Downey Jr.) announcing his identity as Iron Man to the press. Across the world in Russia, Ivan Vanko (Mickey Rourke) mourning the recent death of his father regards the announcement with interest and begins work on constructing similar technology. His plan is to use the technology to destroy Tony Stark – the son of the man he holds directly responsible for his father’s undeserved life of abject poverty. You may think that the whole father-son dichotomy that underlies Tony’s Russian rivalry would be meaty enough to fill a film. Unfortunately, Iron Man 2 has sequelitus and chooses instead to pull in about 3-4 different directions.

Where do you start? There’s the complicated relationship between Tony Stark and the long suffering Pepper Potts (Gwyneth Paltrow) which isn't ever granted any great importance. Whilst the first film was a good showcase for the chemistry between Downey Jr. and Paltrow, the flair and energy that once existed between them seems spent. Sure there’s still the snappy dialogue, but it seems less witty and dynamic than before. Tony Stark also has to contend with his own mortality – the palladium core in his chest that keeps him alive is slowly poisoning his body and there is seemingly nothing he can do to stop it. Such realisations can be difficult on a man, and Stark is led down a dark path for much of the film – he starts drinking, alienating his friends and self-sabotaging his business. It’s a far-cry from the self-aware, it’s-nonsense-but-you-love-it tone of the first film. It’s a shame that this path doesn’t really go anywhere and that all these different strands are resolved with such ease. Iron Man 2 is a bit of a mood roulette – you’re never quite sure what you’re going to get next.

Tony also has to contend with a rivalry between himself and a rival defence contractor Justin Hammer (Sam Rockwell – who looks like he’s having a good time throughout – at least someone is) that is threatening to bubble over into violence. All this and I haven’t even mentioned Samuel L. Jackson and Scarlett Johansson’s roles in the film. I do so for good reason – they are almost entirely superfluous – they are here to service The Avengers, Marvel’s next big superhero project. It’s almost as though Favreau were told that he had to include these two characters and made no real effort to ingratiate them into Iron Man 2’s wider story. Despite this, Scarlett Johansson is responsible for one of the films better scenes. Late on in the film, she dons a skin-tight black catsuit, infiltrates Justin Hammer’s compound and in doing so kicks all kinds of ass. It’s a stand-out scene because for once, it’s action that doesn’t merely involve robots hitting each other.