Edge Of Tomorrow

"Smart, exciting, and unexpected" screams the quote emblazoned across the film's poster in a manner suggesting the producers were as surprised as anyone to find themselves with unqualified praise for a new Tom Cruise movie. 

Such astonishment is easy to understand. Since the Scientology bothering superstar's sofa jumping meltdown, the Cruiser's career has been on a steady downwards slide of franchise sequels and middling genre efforts.

At first glance, the Edge Of Tomorrow (2014) appears to be another unappetising entry in the recent Cruise canon, with familiar ingredients from Groundhog Day, Source Code, Starship Troopers and War of the Worlds reheated like some kind of cinematic casserole. But what should have been an indigestible dogs’ breakfast, turns out to be a surprisingly tasty sci-fi action thriller.

Tiny Tom plays Major William Cage, a media spokes-officer for the military who are fighting a war against alien invaders who have taken over much of Europe (true to form, perennial surrender-monkeys France are one of the first nations to fall). Leading the fight-back are General Brigham (Brendan Gleeson) - who is planning to defeat the aliens by launching a D-Day style landing on the continent - and Rita Vrataski (Emily Blunt) a super-soldier whose battlefield heroics have made her the war’s poster-girl.

But this isn't the battle-comfy Cruise character we've seen in the past. The smooth-tongued media man prefers to enjoy a war - as any sensible General does - as far away from actual combat as possible.

Unfortunately for him, Gleeson has other ideas and sends the cowardly Cruise kicking-and-screaming to the front line on the eve of invasion (for an idea think Blackadder’s General Melchett sunnily despatching Captain Darling to the trenches). Cruise is quickly fried alive in the Somme-esque disaster, but gains the ability to replay the same day with each subsequent death - a skill he must use to save the world. 

The Cruiser: as surprised as anyone
that critics liked his new movie

It's in one of these failed attempts that Cruise and Blunt arrive at an abandoned house in the French countryside, which like all Gallic retreats happens to have a small helicopter in the back garden.

Cruise suggests to Blunt that it would be a great idea for them to kick back, enjoy some wine, and see where the evening takes them, rather than flying the chopper to the certain death he's seen on past attempts. Blunt weighs this up, and then considers certain death by chopper crash preferable to a sweaty triste with our perma-grinning friend.

The chopper has barely lifted off the ground before it swoops into the garage. The only thing missing is a smug Cruise standing over the wreckage, arms crossed, head shaking, uttering the line 'what did I just tell you?'

Artistic merit 

In truth, it's a pathetic crash. Cruise's character knows it's coming, we know it's coming, and when it does arrive we are denied a large explosion in favour of several small fires. Mercifully we only see this sequence once in the film, despite Cruise's character telling us he's experienced it multiple times. 

Do passengers survive? 

Emily Blunt chooses death by exploding helicopter
over sex with Tom Cruise

No. Blunt's character survives long enough for some dialogue, before predetermined death. 

Positives 

For anyone that's been annoyed by the recent crop of Cruise films, or for anyone that just wants to slap the perennially perky Cruise in the face, the Edge Of Tomorrow provides a rare treat. Large sections of the film resemble Sean Bean's legendary 'death reel' allowing schadenfreude fans to revel in the sight of Cruise being sliced, crushed, shot, squashed and toasted innumerable times.

There's also one marvellous moment where after tiring of another failed attempt at saving the world Top Gun Tom decides 'oh fuck it, I'm off to the pub' where he boozes it up with the locals.

For a film that's stolen elements from so many different films, Director Doug Liman (of Bourne Identity fame) does an admirable job in making the end result surprisingly intelligent and enjoyable. Cruise's transformation from battle-shy weasel to inadvertent soldier just about works, while Blunt is at her best when coldly opting to take the option to reset the day into her own hands.

Negatives 

However, the ending does seem somewhat implausible. Cruise is able to use his knowledge of the future to convince a group of soldiers that don't know him to go on a suicide mission to Paris, yet at no point can convince anyone in the military command that they need to change their battle plans. The Deus Ex Machina at the end unravels the minute you prod at it. 

Favourite line 

Major William Cage, on hearing his assignment into the battlefield: "While it is an honour General, I am afraid I'm going to have to decline. I can't stand the sight of blood, not so much as a papercut."

Interesting fact 

The film was released during the 70th anniversary of the D-Day landings during World War 2.

Review by: Joe

5 Days Of War

“The first casualty of war is truth,” reads the sombre quotation at the start of this ridiculous movie.

Well, they said it. In 5 Days Of War (2011), truth isn’t just a casualty – it’s punched in the nuts, water-boarded then blasted by a firing-squad before the opening credits have even finished.

Supposedly ‘based on real events’, this war drama tells the tale of plucky Georgia’s heroic resistance in 2008 against a Russian invasion. Most independent commentators reckon the blame for this messy conflict needs to be shared – but you’ll find no such namby-pamby even-handedness here.

The reason why is simple: the film was part-financed by the Georgian government. (Bizarrely, one of its ministers is even listed as a producer.)

The result, unsurprisingly enough, is a gallumphing piece of pro-Georgian propaganda. Swivel-eyed and angry, the movie ramps up the anti-Russian rhetoric so much it’d bring a blush to the cheek of a Fox News presenter.

The ‘story’ centres on Thomas Anders (Rupert Friend), an American journalist in Georgia to report on the war. While helping a Georgian family flee the fighting, he films Russian soldiers cold-bloodedly executing civilians – then has to daringly escape through the frontlines with this damning evidence of evil Russkie war crimes.

Will he make it? Could the truth finally be revealed to the world? Does anyone remotely care? No.

Rupert Friend the star of 5 Days Of Snore

There’s another odd, even schizophrenic, aspect to this movie. Clearly, the Georgian tourist ministry – fearful that two hours of watching the country being reduced to rubble might discourage potential holidaymakers – has insisted on the inclusion of lots of idyllic ‘travelogue’ imagery showing off the region’s beautiful old towns and balmy countryside. In some scenes, you half-expect Judith Chalmers to wander into shot and start extolling the virtues of the unspoilt beaches.

But then the action will suddenly lurch back to a graphic depiction of war-time horror (a wedding celebration ending in a bombed bloodbath, for example). Back and forth it goes, between sunny vistas and blasted buildings, cute pavement cafes and corpse-littered streets. It’s like watching Machete Kills and Wish You Were Here having noisy, confused sex. And not in a good way.

Misfortune seems to be heaped onto this movie. Already staggering under the weight of Georgian governmental expectation, its credibility is further lumbered by two titanically over-the-top performances from a couple of has-been stars: Andy Garcia and Val Kilmer (of which, more later). And then there’s the ultimate death-knell for any film: Renny Harlin.

Ah, Renny. Over the years, the scarecrow-coiffured Finn – a favourite bete noire of this website – has been accused of many things, but subtlety and sophistication are not among them.

The dead hand behind such clunking high-concept fare as Die Hard 2, Deep Blue Sea and Cliffhanger, our Renny deals pretty much exclusively in explosions, car chases and gunfights. Indeed, his Nordic disposition seems almost offended by such quaint cinematic conventions as plot and character development.

Renny Harlin directs 5 Days Of Bore

Harlin’s stylistic peccadilloes are most readily apparent here during a scene in which senior government figures anxiously discuss the country’s fate. Confronted with people doing nothing more than actually speaking to each other, Harlin’s unease is palpable. You can almost sense his panic: ‘What is this? Two people, in a room, talking? Oh my god – there’s pages of this stuff’.

Realising the potential for cinematic catastrophe (ie. three straight minutes without an explosion) Renny solves the problem with admirable simplicity: he just presses the directorial fast-forward button. Suddenly the actors – who’d previously been speaking in measured and actorly tones – start rattling through their dialogue at machine-gun pace. It’s like they’re taking on bets at Ascot.

Complex plot points – whole swathes of story – are hurled back and forth like hand-grenades, just so the Renny-nator can get back to blowing some shit up.

Still, such pyromaniacal intent was always going to pay dividends for readers of this blog. And when a big Russkie Mil-Hind 24 hooves into view, shooting up heroic Georgian soldiers, you can be sure Renny isn’t about to cut away to a quiet scene of contemplative dialogue. Oh, no. It’s chopper fire-ball time.

With his comrades under fire, one of the Georgian grunts whips out a rocket launcher and blasts the helicopter. Damaged, the whirlybird spins into the top of a building, before tumbling to the ground and providing our exploding helicopter ‘money shot’.

Artistic merit

As already mentioned, if there’s one thing old Renny knows about (and we’ve checked: there is only ‘one thing’ he does know about) it’s how to blow things up. Thus, the audience gets to really relish the ailing chopper’s death throes before seeing its final demise – all in lustrous, fiery, CGI.

Exploding helicopter innovation

Nothing to report, sadly. This is a little disappointing, as the Nordic numpty has provided plenty of quirky helicopter explosions in previous films – see Cliffhanger, Deep Blue Sea, or 12 Rounds for examples.

Positives

Andy Garcia's 5 Accents Of War

For schadenfreude enthusiasts, the undoubted highlights of the film are the eccentric cameos from Andy Garcia and Val Kilmer.

Garcia has the juicier role as Georgian President Mikheil Saakashvili. Cast because of his physical resemblance to the great man (and, let’s be frank, because he’s generally ‘available’ these days), his performance comes crashing to the ground as soon he opens his mouth.

Try as he might, our perma-brylcreemed smoothie is simply unable to maintain a Russian growl, and his weird Cuban lilt keeps leaking through. No true film buff has really lived till they’ve witnessed his ‘Nyet! Nyet! What-a are ya doin-a, senor comgrim rade?’ schtick for themselves.

Along with Dick Van Dyke in Mary Poppins and Ray Winstone’s catastrophic ‘American’ in Fool’s Gold, this is one of the worst accents committed to film.

Val Kilmer has a smaller role as a maverick, slightly unhinged journalist: though, in fairness, his role is the only thing about him that is small. The striking, blonde hunk of Top Gun has long since been subsumed into layers of celebrity blubber. Big Val’s famously hearty appetite for drink, drugs and however many burgers are on offer is, in a sense, now literally written all over him in rubbery bands of flesh.

Val Kilmer's 5 Bellies Of War

His entrance to the film is spectacular. With little warning, the shocked viewer is confronted with a paunchy, long-haired Val, luxuriating naked in a bubble bath. It’s like Jabba the Hutt’s bigger brother has slithered into the wrong film. It’s a truly magnificent sight.

In his (successful) day, Val was famous for on-set strops, minion-bullying and ridiculous ‘remove all the red M&Ms’-style diva behaviour, so there’s a certain grim satisfaction in watching the old fool get his gut out for a few paltry shekls. It can comfortably be assumed that the Big Man is these days administering to his own M&M compartmentalisation needs.

Negatives

The movie spends 15 minutes establishing a traumatic back-story for Anders, involving a friend and fellow reporter dying in his arms while in Iraq. Throughout the film, various characters tell Anders he needs to move on from this trauma in a manner that strongly suggests a looming moment of dramatic catharsis. However, nothing ever happens.

One can only guess that Harlin, petrified by the prospect of shooting scenes featuring actual emotions, quietly ripped those pages out of everyone’s script.

Favourite line

“Everything is easy when you wear a mini-skirt.” Thankfully, this line is not uttered by Val Kilmer.

Review by: Jafo

Battledogs

…or World War Werewolf, as this film - for very important legal reasons – is assiduously not called.

That’s because Battledogs (2013) is a ‘mockbuster’, one of those not-so-thinly veiled (but just veiled enough) rip-offs of a mega-budget blockbuster.

So, after zombie extravaganza World War Z staggered into cinemas in the summer of 2013, those masters of the cheap knock-off at The Asylum quickly bashed out Battledogs.

The basic plot of the two films is uncannily similar, with both featuring a world imperilled by a mystery virus that turns people into murderous savages. But to ensure there’s no payday for the copyright lawyers, Battledogs cheekily swaps World War Z’s human-chewing zombies for werewolves. A sort of werewolf in zombie clothing, if you will.

However, there’s always an inherent problem with ripping off a squillion dollar budget movie – namely, the lack of a squillion dollar budget.

So while World War Z saw A-list Hollywood hunk Brad Pitt literally scour the world (and bizarrely Wales) looking for a zombie cure, the made-for-cable Battledogs has acting no-mark Craig Sheffer (who he?) skulking round the inside of a few deserted buildings. Jerusalem, Korea and packed USA city centres are notable by their absence.

Where World War Z gave us Grand Guignol horror as hundreds of innocents were brutally chewed to death, Battledogs’ more modestly staged scenes involve little more than a solitary victim being gently nibbled to death by a wonky CGI dog. There’s more genuine nail-biting suspense in a good episode of Lassie.

Bill Duke: contemplates the fate of mankind, or
possibly just his shopping list

The low grade vibe also extends to the supporting cast, a random assortment of semi-familiar faces who are clearly as bored by the film as the viewer. A near-comatose Bill Duke (Predator, Commando) briefly appears as the President of the United States. All good leaders should display a quiet stoicism, but this performance borders on catatonic depression.

Elsewhere, Ernie Hudson (Ghostbusters) can barely contain the sense of ennui as he ticks off the minutes before his character is gnawed to death. And Ariana Richards (who you’ll dimly remember as the teenage girl terrorised by dinosaurs in Jurassic Park) offers a stark reminder of why it’s been six years since she last appeared in TV or film.

Alone among the cast, Dennis Haysbert (24, Heat) valiantly tries to add a touch of class. Fighting against the ropey dialogue, he delivers his lines with all the pained seriousness of a Shakespearean soliloquy, but the poor lad shouldn’t have bothered. This film is Much Ado About Nothing.

Battledogs is like the suspiciously cheap Gucci bag you bought on holiday, which fell apart the moment the plane landed back home. You knew all along it was a cheap knock-off that would quickly disappoint, but went ahead anyway on the off-chance it might actually pass for the real thing. You really should have known better.

The titular "Battledog" in all its wonky CGI glory

Luckily for this blog, the one authentic pleasure in this film is the helicopter explosion. It occurs when the military are sent in to ‘reclaim the streets’ of New York from the fuzzy (and not at all zombie-like, lawyers!) fiends. A squadron of helicopter gunships flies in to pursue the rampaging werewolves down the streets.

As one whirlybird hovers next to a skyscraper, a werewolf suddenly smashes through one of the building’s upper windows and straight at it. Stunned by the assault, the pilot loses control of the chopper and crashes into the side of the building. Ba-doom!

Artistic merit

The werewolf’s daring assault on the helicopter is filmed in slow motion so we can fully enjoy the improbability of what we’re witnessing. Gloriously, the pilot gets to perform an obligatory “What the...” line, before losing control of his chopper and crashing it.

The classic “What the…” exclamation in films is an interesting phenomena. No matter what the scenario, any expendable extra will always have just enough time to utter those fabled two words, yet never sufficient time to actually complete their sentence.

Deep down, all of us must surely long to meet our maker in a similarly poetic way.

Exploding helicopter innovation

The first lupine-related exploding helicopter.

Positives

Sometimes, all you can do is laugh. Hopeless as the stuff of nightmares, the crap werewolves are capable of raising the odd titter.

Negatives

As the film’s hero, Craig Sheffer is blandly anonymous. Cutting it neither as an action figure nor a top boffin, he has zero screen presence. In his scenes with the Atari-style CGI werewolves, you start to admire their method.

A better actor (and it’s hard at this point to think of a worse one) could perhaps have built an interesting conflict with Dennis Haysbert, the only decent actor in the movie.

Interesting fact

This isn’t the first time Sheffer has come up against werewolves. In the late Eighties, he was involved in a cartoon series spin-off from Teen Wolf.

Review by: Jafo

Machete Kills

Is there a more unlikely action hero than Danny Trejo?

At the coffin-dodging age of 70, the hopes of most actors run no further than a warm cocoa and a nicely paid ‘exposition cameo’. But not our Danny, who’s instead decided to spend his pensionable years carving out (literally in his machete wielding case) a new career in action cinema.

It’s an improbable development, with an incredible story behind it. The two Machete films – Machete (2010) and Machete Kills (2013) – which have catapulted Trejo from bit-part status to leading man fame actually had their as a spoof (yes, spoof) trailer for Quentin Tarantino’s Grindhouse project. It’s now a fully blown franchise.

The story begins with a gang of Mexican revolutionaries threatening to nuke the United States. With the fate of the nation at stake, American President Charlie Sheen (taking a rare day off from getting ‘crack’ed up to the eyeballs and going on TV to talk gibberish) calls in everyone’s favourite oversized-knife-wielding Mexican to save the day. Dangling the prize of a US green card before him (because what else would any Mexican want?), the Prez hires Trejo to infiltrate the gang and stop the plot. But as our crater-faced curmudgeon cuts a steel-edged swathe through the villains, he learns that the nuke threat is just a diversion from another, much more deadly, conspiracy. Yikes.

So, having just celebrated his seventieth birthday, how does Trejo – the only man who can consider Arnold Schwarzenegger and Sylvester Stallone up-and-coming young pretenders - fare as an action movie hero?  For the most part, commendably well. Trejo has an undeniable screen presence, even if it’s in large part due the fact he looks like a tattooed Easter Island statue (only with less emotional range).

Danny Trejo: Like an action movie Leslie Nielsen

Here, that stoicism (or inability to act, take your pick) becomes a useful trait. With an intentionally preposterous plot, and the violence played for laughs (the inventive use of intestines is a series trademark), it’s important that somebody appears to be taking matters seriously and Trejo provides a poker-faced calm at the eye of the storm.

In many ways he’s like an action movie version of Leslie Nielsen who successfully dead-panned his way through 20 years of genre spoof silliness. Just don’t expect Trejo to warn someone not to call him Shirley, when brutally disembowelling them is so much quicker.

Still, it’s not all good. Despite the muscly Mexican’s best endeavours, Machete Kills is an uneven watch, jack-knifing from moments of inspired gonzoid invention to self-indulgent onanism. And there’s only one culprit: Robert Rodriguez.

Not content with writing and directing the film, Rodriguez also edits, photographs, produces and writes the music. Between takes he probably shoved a broom up his arse and swept the floor as well.

While you can’t fault this hands-on enthusiasm, the absence of collaborators or critical voices means the film frequently stalls, as Rodriguez amuses himself with another redundant scene.

Exploding Helicopter couldn’t help thinking the film would’ve benefitted from the involvement of an old-school cigar-chomping Hollywood producer. The film badly needed the kind of artistic philistine who’d happily rip 20 pages out of the script without troubling himself about the integrity of the director’s artistic vision.

Still, there’s one happy by-product of Rodriguez giving full reign to his imagination: a truly inspired and unique exploding helicopter.

After kidnapping Mendes – the Mexican revolutionary holding the USA to ransom – Trejo tries to make his escape in a chopper, but is pursued by machine-gun-firing goons in a speedboat. Simply flying away would be much too straightforward for this film, so Trejo leaps from the helicopter into the speedboat and starts doffing up the henchmen. Having dispatched two of the goons in double-quick fashion, Danny Boy deals with the final baddie in virtuoso fashion.

With the pilot-less chopper still weaving about in the sky, Our pock-marked pensioner grabs hold of a fishing rod that’s handily lying around. He casts the line and hooks the helicopter on the end like it was a prize marlin. Attaching the rod to the troublesome villain, he triggers the spring-loaded reel causing him to be violently wrenched out of the boat. Whizzed towards the chopper, the hapless henchman smashes into the whirlybird which, of course, explodes.

Artistic merit 

Creative, inventive, entertaining, this is the very best kind of exploding helicopter. Watching this scene, celebrating it, it’s why we run this website.

Exploding helicopter innovation 

Only known use of a fishing rod to destroy a helicopter.

Do passengers survive? 

Yes, Trejo and Mendes survive having made a highly improbable leap from the helicopter.

Positives 

Rodriguez provides one of Exploding Helicopter’s favourite supporting artists, William Sadler (Die Hard 2, The Shawshank Redemption), with a juicy little part as a redneck Sheriff out to lynch Machete.

Always a classy presence, Sadler has largely spent his career in middling films and TV work. If you were to draw up a list of actors who deserves to be better used then Sadler would surely have to be on there.

Negatives 

Unfortunately, not every casting decision is as good. Lady Gaga appears briefly as ‘La Chameleon’, an assassin whose nickname comes from her mastery of disguise. The character actually serves little purpose in the film, other than to chew up screen time and provide Rodriguez with the opportunity to crowbar in pointless cameos from all his Hollywood chums, such as Cuba Gooding Jr, Walton Goggins and Antonio Banderas. (Though in fairness, this is probably the biggest acting gig Cuba Gooding Jr has had in about a decade.)

Favourite line 

Danny Trejo strikes a blow for Luddites everywhere: “Machete don’t tweet.”

Interesting fact 

Apparently this is the eleventh time Danny Trejo has appeared in a Robert Rodriguez film. And with the film dangling the prospect of a further sequel - Machete Kills Again – it looks like the partnership isn’t going to end here.

Review by: Jafo

Still want more? Then listen to the Exploding Helicopter podcast episode on Machete Kills. Listen on iTunes, Podomatic, Stitcher, YourListen or right here and now.

Godzilla

Who would have guessed that, in a movie featuring 300-foot tall, fire-breathing monsters, the most unbelievable characters would all be human?

Oh, dear. When promising newcomer Gareth Edwards was handed a £160 million budget for only his second movie – on the strength of his lo-fi (and low budget) debut hit, Monsters – hopes were high. But sadly, the Wunderkind has produced a steaming great pile of dino-plop.

Still, there is at least some good news: the monsters themselves are fabulous. They look sinister, they move convincingly and their guttural, ear-bending shrieks send a shiver down the spine. Besides Big G himself, there’s a couple of black, spindly, bird-like giants (called Mutos) who entertainingly go on a monster-sized ASBO rampage across the globe.

As for the director’s much-criticised decision to do a very slow reveal of the beasts (for the first hour, all you get are snatched half-glimpses or blurred images on TV screens), it actually works a treat. The gradual build-up of tension makes for a spectacular visual treat when the monsters are finally revealed in their full glory.

Equally, much of the disaster-style footage is spot on. A succession of images – ruined, tottering skyscrapers; battleships tossed about like bath toys; wrecked urban landscapes – really stick in the brain.

But then the actors have to go and ruin it all by speaking.

It’s true. The monsters may be levelling entire cities, but the film itself is ultimately brought down by a hokey plot, terrible dialogue and ropey acting. No-one emerges unscathed.

Bryan Cranston, afforded almost demi-god status after his turn in Breaking Bad, looks like a man who’s just realised how terrible the film is. He croaks and whines ineffectually for a bit, then wisely decides to die half an hour in.

Leading buff-boy Aaron Taylor-Johnson utters not a single memorable line, and merely bounces around from one action scene to another.

But it’s in the ‘war room’ that things really take a tumble. David Strathairn joins a bevy of lantern-jawed military types to bark out the usual guff about ‘having a visual’ and ‘needing situational awareness’.

Such scenes are rarely inspiring, but in Godzilla they are comically poor. Even the basic walking-and-talking choreography is noticeably bad. You can actually see actors stepping three paces to the left to find their mark before delivering a line. It’s desperately hammy stuff.

Ken Watanabe praying for his bowels to move

And it gets worse. Ken Watanabe, brought in to be the ‘Japanese’ guy, is little more than a cartoon. Every line he utters is a wise proverb, delivered with a pained look suggestive of constipation worries. His performance makes Cato from the Pink Panther films look nuanced.

By the time he ponderously pulls out an old time-piece (‘It…was…my father’s’) that supposedly froze at the moment Hiroshima struck, you haven’t the heart to point out a wind-up watch wouldn’t actually have stopped.

But, in a crowded field, poor Sally Hawkins carries off the worst actor accolade. Constantly fretting, worrying and semi-sobbing, she’s resembles nothing more than a modern-day Stan Laurel.

The piss-awful weakness of the human story here is strange, because the strength of the central characters’ relationship in Edwards’ Monsters was its defining quality. It all strongly suggests the studio leaned heavily on the young director to make a bland and accessible piece of pap.

All of which begs the question: why does Hollywood keep on giving blockbuster movies to auteurs? Suppose, say, someone was really skilled at flying a model airplane; you wouldn’t sit them in the cockpit of a commercial airliner and tell them to hit the thruster. But Hollywood does this all the time.

The very skills that make Edwards a good small movie-maker – strong personal vision, an ability to improvise, skilful handling of a small cast – make him a terrible fit for a baggy, committee-led blockbuster.

This point was demonstrated last year when the hugely talented visionary Guillermo del Toro managed to make the $190million Pacific Rim one of the most unwatchable films in recent memory.

Godzilla ponders the absence of a heavyweight
acting co-star

The problem is simple. A blockbuster director is a particular kind of beast – usually a high-functioning sociopath – who’s generally mad enough to take on a studio, loudly threaten to resign, Fed-Ex their own doo-doo to the company president etc. Auteurs just can’t achieve such giddy heights.

Put it this way: you probably won’t see a lo-fi indie film about disenchanted shop clerks directed by Michael Bay coming to a cinema anywhere near you soon. So why are the sensitive types taking on such huge projects, especially when the results are so consistently dire?

And be assured, no cliché is left un-mined in this tosh. Cute kid noticing the monster first? Of course. (Twice.) Loved one trapped fatally behind glass door and sharing final moments with lover? Oh, yes. Hero improbably finding himself eye-to-massive-eye with the giant monster? Yes, about five times – it’s almost like they’re dating.

Ultimately, beset by demands to make a film anyone can like, Edwards has produced something that very likely no-one will give a toss about. Ironically, he is gobbled up by his own monster movie.

Artistic merit

It’ll be no surprise to learn the chopper scene is poorly handled. Facing a monster with a reach of around 400-feet, the chopper pilot goes in shooting and flies right under its left nipple. Unsurprisingly, said beastie immediately swats chopper. Duh. What did the pilot think was going to happen?

Exploding helicopter innovation

None. Godzilla has previously destroyed helicopters in Roland Emmerich's risible 1998 franchise offering.

Positives

This scene takes place at an airport, and there’s a nice shot of the nervy airport crowd watching from behind a huge glass wall as the chopper hits a few airplanes and triggers a series of explosions.

Negatives

The short-lived monster and helicopter encounter has zero tension, and makes even less sense. Expensive, pointless, confusing: it could be a metaphor for the film as a whole.

Favourite quote

Ken Watanabe is clearly in the movie purely for the moment when he stagily turns round, panto-style, and declaims: “They call him…GOR-ZIYYA!”

Interesting fact

Despite the galumphing bad reviews for Godzilla, Gareth Edwards has just been handed the reins for the next Star Wars movie. Given the previous Star Wars trilogy featured some of the wonkiest acting on record (Hayden Christensen’s love scene with Natalie Portman regularly tops Worst Scene of All Time lists), they’ve clearly got the right man for the job.

Review by: Chopper

Still want more? Then check out Jafo discussing Godzilla with a bunch of other cool folk on The Large Association of Movie Blogs podcast on the film.

The Marksman

As a child of the eighties, Wesley Snipes has been an oddly curious presence in my life. He’s always been there, but only ever on the margin of things. In many ways, Snipes is like an estranged uncle, one who makes random appearances at birthdays and weddings, before vanishing for years without explanation.

Perhaps the reason for this peripheral existence is that despite a near 30-year career he’s never made an era-defining or life-changing film. Sure, there have been some very good ones (White Men Can’t Jump, Blade, Rising Sun), but never one for which he’ll always be famous. Today, sadly, Wee Wes is probably best known for his sudden bouts of amnesia when his tax bills were due, and for dire DTV fodder like The Marksman (2005).

The plot is straightforward. Snipes plays an out of work actor who has squandered his income and is now facing an upcoming tax bill that he cannot afford to pay. That’s not really the plot, but if it were it would be a darn sight more enjoyable than this tripe.

The actual story is thinner than wet Rizla. After Chechen terrorists take over a nuclear power station and threaten to blow it up, Snipes has to lead a team of special ops soldiers on a mission to infiltrate the complex and stop radioactive Armageddon. But before Wezzer can complete his mission, he must overcome a series of deadly action movie clichés.

First, there’s Snipes himself: a mysterious, but brilliant operative who is haunted by a mission that went tragically wrong. Then there’s the cardboard cut-out villain, a crazed Chechen warlord, who ruthlessly kills without compunction – except when he captures Snipes and his team (at which point he just ties them up so they can escape later and instigate his demise).

And finally there’s the obligatory double-cross. It turns out that the suspiciously helpful Russians are still bitter about losing the Cold War, and have been feeding the Americans false intelligence. It’s all a plot to trick Snipes and his men into blowing up the nuclear power plant. Oh! The Commie swines!

Psychic Snipes guesses the plot twist

Of course, our Wes is the only one who figures this out. Not through a deep understanding of post-Cold War geopolitics, but by repeatedly muttering, “This is too easy” whilst wandering through a forest.

Now, most films would be embarrassed about blatantly pilfering plot devices. Not so The Marksman which, having tired of copying other films, decides to dispense with the charade and just reuse bits from those actual films.

Yes, in one shameless sequence a complete section of DVD actioner Active Stealth is inserted into the film. Together with the liberal use of stock footage of jets, tanks and other heavy weaponry, The Marksman begins to resemble a badly stitched patchwork quilt. Something that roughly resembles a film, but one made of up pieces that clearly don’t go together.

And, so to the reason I endured this film for ninety, retina damaging, minutes: the exploding helicopter. Thinking they have completed the mission, our heroes head to their extraction point where they are to be choppered away to safety.

Snipes realises it’s a double cross, but too late. One of the evacuation team, who is secretly working for the Russians, drops a grenade into the waiting chopper. With only a few seconds to spare, the marines run for cover as the chopper behind them erupts into a dirty black and orange fireball.

A classic 'heroes illuminated by exploding helicopter shot'

Artistic merit

It’s a decent enough explosion. I guess it was a choice between a screenplay and a pyrotechnics expert.

Exploding helicopter innovation 

None at all. We’ve seen helicopters destroyed by grenades as far back From Russia With Love in 1963.

Positives

There is one absolutely priceless moment in the film when the senior General tasked with leading the military response asks: “Do we have any guys with real combat experience?” which is followed by an awkward silence.

Now, you might think that the world’s only military superpower would have no shortage of such experienced veterans. Incredibly, it seems Uncle Sam’s armed forces are a straw man filled with pimply faced teens who’ve never fired a shot in anger and only Wesley Snipes is qualified for the job.

Negatives

Several sequences are shot in the jerky handheld style used so effectively in the Bourne films and NYPD Blue. Unfortunately, director Marcus Adams’ efforts resemble less an edgy, cinema verite than simply a drunk dad trying to film the family barbecue on a cheap camcorder.

Favourite line

“Always bet on black.” Okay, that’s actually a line from Passenger 57, but it’s still our favourite Snipes quip.

Review by: Jindy

You can read other reviews on this film by friends of this website DTV Connoisseur and Comeuppance Reviews.

The Thaw

It’s ironic that, having made his name playing Iceman in Top Gun, Hollywood quickly went very cold on Val Kilmer.

First there was the frosty reception for his lumpen turn in Batman Forever. And when his lame reboot of 60s spy caper The Saint met with an equally chilly response, Tinseltown promptly shoved Kilmer’s career into the deep freeze and forgot about him.

Since then, Val’s attempts to once more bask in the warm glow of cinematic success have resulted only in lukewarm DTV slush. So, could this low budget chiller be the one to finally bring Val Kilmer in from the cold? In a word: no.

The Thaw (2009) sees Kilmer play Dr Kruipen, a scientist investigating the global warming crisis. While working in the Arctic, he’s made a momentous discovery with global implications. So naturally, this being a schlock-horror movie, the first thing he does – before calling the World Health Organisation or the UN – is invite four nubile teen students along to, like, check it out.

And then, after a few early scenes, he pulls a Yeti-like vanishing trick and simply disappears for most of the film. At first you hardly notice. But after a while, as you stifle yet another yawn at the panto-horror antics of the teen-bots, you’ll start questioning whether you really saw Val Kilmer at all.

Was he even in this movie? Have you perhaps confused this with another movie? After all, the only evidence for his existence lies in a few brief, blurred sightings, uncertain third-hand accounts and opening credits that state ‘Starring Val Kilmer’. It’s all a mystery. Truly, Big Val has become the Abominable Actor of Hollywood.

After the brooding one’s exit, we’re left to follow the travails of the regulation issue movie teens (frigid nerd, horny jock, babe-alicious cheerleader, earnest ‘nice’ boy) as they slowly – and witlessly – begin to comprehend the danger they’re facing.

But what is the chilling terror that our young clichés are pitted against? The answer, dear reader, is flesh-eating bugs.

Photographic evidence of Val Kilmer's presence
in this film

Our weirdo doctor has discovered an ancient, deadly parasite while defrosting the remains of a prehistoric woolly mammoth. And once thawed, these pesky critters like nothing more than burrowing under human skin, where they quickly multiply and start feasting on the flesh.

And, horror of horrors, it turns out the doc isn’t quite as nice as he doesn’t seem. Oh, no. Our boffin’s view of humanity has soured after being ignored for years (perhaps this is where Kilmer identified with the role).

His dastardly plan is to deliberately infect the naïve teens and send them back to civilisation, thus unleashing the buggy threat on the world. Although given the sex-ploits of the teens, venereal disease might well kill everyone off long before the bugs get a chance to.

As a way of getting the world’s population to listen to his message about melting ice-caps, it’s unconventional to say the least. Let’s just hope Al Gore doesn’t catch on to this one.

Matters come to a head in the final act, when Big Val finally wanders in from the snow to find his cunning plan has been rumbled.

Not to be foiled, he infects himself with the dangerous parasite and hops into a helicopter to fly back and infect the world. With all the other teens rendered into bug-food, it falls to the frigid nerd (typically the last surviving genre type in cheesy horror films) to stop the deranged doctor.

Grabbing a rifle, she fires inexpertly at the helicopter and ‘luckily’ hits the pilot in the neck, killing him. The chopper spirals out of control and whirlybirds into the Arctic base station. Boom! Both building and helicopter blow up in a massive fireball. Someone get the marshmallows.

Artistic merit

Given this is a low budget film with few frills – or thrills, for that matter – this is a commendable chopper fireball. Having the helicopter crash into the building gives the pyrotechnics boys and girls a perfect excuse to create an impressively large fireball.

Exploding helicopter innovation

Little to report, sadly. Helicopters have been destroyed in similar circumstances countless times before. Perhaps surprisingly, even the polar location of the explosion is fairly common. For previous examples see: John Carpenter’s The Thing (and its remake), TV disaster movie 2012: Ice Age, and the lamentable creature-feature Arctic Predator.

Positives

A gory, improvised, amputation has long been a staple of the horror film, and dismemberment fans will are in for a treat with The Thaw.

After being bitten on the arm, one hapless teen agree to have their arm unceremoniously chopped off to stop the infection spreading. Fortunately, there’s a big meat cleaver handy.

Unfortunately, the wimpy teen wielding it is afraid of blood. They initially bungle the amputation necessitating repeated, gruesome, blows to finally sever the limb. Given a choice, they should probably have left his arm to the bugs. They’d have made a cleaner job.

Negatives

Talking of plot standbys, where would these films be without the scene where one character realises they’ve left something crucial behind? Sure enough, this hoary old plot device here is creaked into dishonourable service once again here.

After trapping the parasites in a laboratory, the gang realise they’ve left vital evidence of the conspiracy in the room. Cue a predictably frantic escapade into the room to retrieve said device.

Tag line

The somewhat meaningless: “Extinction will find you.”

Interesting fact

William B Davis, better known as the ‘smoking man’ from The X-Files, briefly pops up as a talking head in a TV clip.

The truth is out there, but the entertainment certainly isn’t in here.

Review by: Jafo