Tales of Frankenstein

One of the good things about running this blog is sometimes, just sometimes, someone you know knows someone really cool and helps to make the introductions.

Take Donald F Glut, for example. The man who wrote, not that he'll thank me for mentioning this, the novelisation of The Empire Strikes Back – a book I loved reading when less old than I am now.

Turns out, he also wrote episodes for Spider-Man, Transformers and Captain Caveman And The Teen Angels (plus loads of others, but I'm seriously and joyously cherrypicking).

Anyhoo, turns out I know someone who knows him.

Also turns out he's produced a new film – Tales of Frankenstein. Four short stories about that Victor fellow (kinda, in one way or another).

Which is why I got to spend a rather lovely Bank Holiday Monday morning watching a screener of said film.

Sometimes, just sometimes, the universe doesn't totally suck...

And, thankfully, nor does the film.

It could have been easy to lose the thread as Donald weaves his four tales, helped by a simply wonderful ensemble cast, but this guy knows his bolts (he's been very busy in the horror genre over the past few years).

Essentially what we have here is a love letter to Hammer House Of Horror.

Not just with the subject matter, but in the periods and locations chosen (Bavaria, Transylvania) and the other genres that get roped in for good measure (Sam Spade-esque film noir was a nice touch).

Each tale has its own style and tone, while still being shot through the Hammer lens — lending a warm familiarity to each story.

And the way the whole thing subtlety wraps back round itself just leaves you grinning and nodding.

In between all that, heads are surgically hacked open, hands come to life, the male fantasy of wanting a younger model is put through the wringer and Dracula... no no, that would be a spoiler.

There is an attention to detail here that is quite wonderful to see, and it's one of the things that helps bring the whole film to life, as it were.

Of course, as mentioned above, the cast more than play their part.

John Blyth Barrymore as Vincent, Buddy Daniels Friedman as Dr. Gregore, the sublimely sinister Jim Tavaré as Dr. Karnstein, Tatiana DeKhtyar as Lenore Frankenstein, Len Wein as Helmut and Jamisin Matthews as the hard-chewing Jack Anvil all buy in to what Glut is after and deliver.

Boy do they deliver.

And they're clearly having as much fun being in this as the audience will have watching it.

In an age of reboots, prequels and sequels, it's nothing short of amazing to find indie film makers still trying to put something new out there.

And yes, we know that Frankenstein isn't a 'new' story, but this is a fresh look at an old classic.

Fingers crossed it finds the audience it deserves.

Fast And Furious: Hobbs & Shaw (12A)

And so, after the overblown wotsits of Mr Tarantino, it was time for something a bit more cerebral, sedate, down to earth...

....or we could let Mrs Popcorn choose...

You know how this ended, don't you...?

Now, through no fault of our own, we have never actually sat down and watched a Fast And Furious film.

We've meant to, sure, always been keen – but then something happened (holiday, bins need putting out, the cinema is too far away, it's a Thursday) and the chance went begging.

So diving in at volume nine (NINE? REALLY????) seemed like a bit of a stretch. What if we weren't up to speed on the overall narrative arc? What if there were lot of in-jokes? What about all the symbolism and subtext built up over the previous eight (EIGHT????) films?

Oh well, dive in eh? What's the worst that can happen?

Turns out, we hadn't bargained for actually enjoying ourselves.

Who knew?

For those who actually care about plot, this is a simple one – world-killing virus is now in body of one person, so she is wanted by the bad guys, so Hobbs & Shaw have to stop bickering and save her. And the world, obvs.

The woman in question, Hattie, is played by Vanessa Kirby – who proceeds to act the two blocks of testosterone off the screen. Three if you count Idris Elba.

Kirby is sharp, funny, a thoroughly engaging screen presence and can hold her own in a fight. Frankly she should have had this film to herself.

Especially as the two "stars" (Dwayne Johnson and Jason Statham, you may have heard of them) are so busy ensuring they get exactly the same amount of dialogue and screen time they forget to actually get on with the action.

OK, that's a tad harsh, but the dialogue thing becomes really annoying about half way through the film.

Although, that's nothing on Elba. He's either a wooden muscle oaf or acting like his Oscar depends on it. It all depends on if he's acting opposite proper thespian Eddie Marsan.

Seriously, it's like he's in two different films.

We'd love to pick more holes in this crash n smash blockbuster, but in truth... we can't.

No, this isn't highbrow entertainment. Yes, John Wick is a better action film. Yes, Bond and Bourne are better spy films (although Statham does his best early on) – but damn it this film is fun.

The car chases, of which there are as many as you would expect, are stupendous and ludicrous in equal measure. The fights are solid, the dialogue fills in the gaps in the plot just as you'd expect.

And from about 10 minutes in, you'll find yourself just grinning like an idiot.

It may be at an actual joke (and there are quite a few), it might be at just how dumb some bits are – but the fact is, you're smiling and enjoying yourself.

And on at least two occasions we found ourselves tensing up and almost holding our breath as epic stunts unfolded.

All of which was not expected as we took our seats.

Yes, there are more plot-laden films out there. There are arguably better action films. But when The Rock and The Other Rock saddle up and give it their all, you just have to strap in and enjoy the ride.

You can't over think these films, they're just fun – and in this case, have the added bonus of some surprise cameos and a stunning performance from Kirby.

Oscar season looms large on the horizon, so take the summer off and just have some petrol-fuelled fun.

Once Upon A Time... In Hollywood (18)

There can be any number of reasons why a film review gets delayed around here — sometimes life gets in the way, sometimes it's the film.

On this occasion, it is definitely the film.

A week on, and we still have no idea what to make of Tarantino's latest outburst.

It's not that it's terrible — far from it, he's made worse — or that it's weird.

It's just... well...

Well, for a start it's long. Like arse-numbingly, eye-meltingly long. You'd be seen quicker in A&E on a wet Tuesday.

But let's not start off on a negative footing - Tarantino is one of those directors who commands respect thanks to his body of work.

Which is just as well, looking back at Once Upon A Time...

For the uninitiated, this is the story of fading 50s TV star Rick Dalton (Leonardo DiCaprio) and his stunt man/buddy/gopher Cliff Booth (Brad Pitt).

So it's a a buddy western. Very in keeping with his recent output.

Only it's also about Charles Manson, The Family and Sharon Tate (played brilliantly by Margot Robbie).

So it's actually a thriller.

Only it's about the Hollywood machine, film making, life through a lens, life behind the lens, life in miniature, life in a mirror.

So it's Tarantino indulging himself and pontificating on his first love.

Only...

It's all of these things. With some added scenes thrown in just so we can all see how he imagines it would have been if he had got to direct some of his heroes.

Genuinely, at one point it struck us that if Steve McQueen hadn't died back in 1980 this film would not need to exist because Tarantino would have cast him in something and got it out of his system.

As you can probably tell already, this is an epic film. Tarantino has basically taken everything he loves and thrown it at the screen. With some added bits for... well... reasons...

But we'll come back to that. (Don't you hate it when they do that in books?)

While the story is epic, so is the whole feel of the film. This is another monster Western from the maker of The Hateful Eight and Django Unchained — and this is actually a huge positive.

This film looks stunning. It's beautiful. We'd almost go as far as to call it a visual masterpiece.

It's just so huge. And not just from some of the panoramic shots. Even the close-up scenes feel larger than life. On this front, Tarantino has nailed it.

And the performances of the central three are great. Robbie is stunning, weaving silk purses from the various sow's ears she gets handed, while Pitt and Leo are clearly having a blast just hanging out together.

It's just a shame there is no functioning narrative.

Even the most shonky of films (let's take 47 Meters Down as an example here) tends to know what the destination is, where the story is heading — and that feeling is captured and transmitted despite the appalling acting, horrendous special effects and plot holes you could swim a shark through.

But Once Upon A Time? Not so much...

Now, the fact it doesn't take you where you think it is going is fine. That's a delight in a movie.

It's just not quite as delightful when you can't shake the feeling that the director doesn't have a clue either.

As we've already said, Robbie is superb here — but a week down the line we still have no idea why that story line was included.

It is genuinely baffling.

That's not to say there aren't clues. And here, we have to deal with a couple of the trickier areas of the movie.

Obviously, if you have Sharon Tate in your film set in 1969 then you 'have' to have Roman Polanski.

And this is where things get awkward.

The suggestion that Tate liked her men young leaps off the screen like a pre-emptive defence, while the mixed #MeToo messages after Cliff picks up a hitchhiker are enough to make your head spin (yes, good men ask for ID - but it's also, at the same time, not their fault because the woman are such teases...)

In other news, Harvey Weinstein used to produce Tarantino's films. Just, you know, FYI.

And all this is before we get to the final scenes, which is where the film earns its 18 certificate (here in the UK) and the audience loses a little more respect for Tarantino and the treatment of women in movies.

Once Upon A Time should have been the epic pinnacle of Tarantino's Western Trilogy.

Instead, it feels like he threw his whole notebook in the blender just to clear the decks ahead of Star Trek.

As a result, we're left with a mess of a film with questionable sexual politics but one that looks fantastic and has three great central performances.

But man is it long.

Blinded By The Light (12A)

When the world is quietly residing in the crapper, the arts react in one of two ways — reflecting the horror of it all, or large doses of feelgood smush to counteract the gloom.

And, as a rule of thumb, the worse the world is the bigger the dose of smush.

Be grateful, then, for Blinded By The Light — a bright beaming, er, yes, light in the gloom.

On the face of it, Blinded is a simple film about a young lad discovering the songs of Bruce Springsteen while growing up in Luton.

But there's far more going on beneath the surface.

This is also a film about finding your place in the world, standing up for what you believe in and how some people are not all they seem.

While also being about The Boss, obvs.

And while the narrative arc is a tad flimsy at times, and the film itself isn't really sure where it is going, the main cast have enough about them to make this work.

In Viveik Kalra the film has a young star (in his first film no less) who is engaging and captivating — you feel and share all the angst and joy he rollercoasters through as life throws him lemons and Bruce tapes in equal measure.

In Nell Williams and Aaron Phagura the film also has two brilliant young co-stars who help to capture the energy of those early Bruce songs.

Now, yes, this is a particularly saccharin piece of fluff at times, but as the film goes on you realise just how necessary this is as the grim reality of life under Thatcher in the late 80s — and the accompanying rise of racism — is brought to bear.

Growing up in this era, we remember some of how bad it was — but it seems, racist abuse aside, we got off lightly compared to towns like Luton which were hit with massive job losses.

And that's something this film captures well — the sad beigeness of the times.

Which is why song and dance numbers at the market, running about montages and impossibly-taken photos overseas just make you grin so much.

While this film has its problems, the one thing that writer/director Gurinder Chadha has got spot on is the feel of this film.

This can happily sit alongside Gregory's Girl (made in 1980) thanks to the look of this piece — and it can also hold it's head up alongside the likes of Pride for balancing social and political messages with outright fun.

Now, as we said, this isn't a perfect film — the story has no real sense of a destination, there are continuity issues and characters get shoe-horned into scenes for no reason.

But it's to the credit of the cast and overall script that these things fail to make a dent in your grin.

There may come a time when we don't need films like this, even though we'll still want them.

But for now, as the world burns and tilts to the far right, we're glad we have them.

Sometimes you just need to sit down, wallow in smush and grin like an idiot.

(Oh, and if you're wondering — and some of you will be — the answer is six. We bought six Springsteen albums after watching this)