Wreck-It Ralph (PG)

It is a truth universally acknowledged that a family film in need of an audience must be in want of something that appeals to the adults as well as the children.

That Jane Austen was ahead of her time.

And she was spot on, because this is one of Wreck-It Ralph's strengths.

For the intended audience, there's the sweet, smiley, fast-paced action.

For those paying for everyone to attend, there's enough geeky game references to make you chuckle (keep an eye out for the original gamer tennis stars...), as well as a healthy smattering of wise-cracks and one liners for the less game-savvy.

Essentially, the story is about a game character (Wreck-It Ralph - voiced by the brilliant John C Reilly) who becomes disenchanted with being 'the baddy' and sets off to another game in search of recognition and reward.

One thing leads to another, friends are made, villains unearthed, cars made of sweets are raced and all's well that ends well.

It's all pretty standard fare.

What makes it stand out from the crowd is the gaming knowledge it carries with it, and the voice talent brought on board.

As with all animations these days, it's the voices that maketh the movie - and along with Mr Reilly, we have the effervescent Sarah Silverman, the stern Jane Lynch and the crazy Alan Tudyk.

The interaction between the characters is brilliant, and each actor brings their pixels to life in fine style. And the pixels are also wonderful. Created with clear and understood knowledge of the gaming world Ralph, Vanellope (Silverman), Felix (the charmingly sweet Jack McBrayer), Calhoun (Lynch) and King Candy (Tudyk) are allowed to go about their adventure in a universe that is both believable (if you can have believable make-believe) and knowledgeable.

The use of music, too, is 'on message', with Rhianna - clearly an artist the target audience will be aware of - being used to good effect during the car race.

If there are any negatives about the film, it's that it's a tad sugary. It won't trouble the diabetic community in the way, say, a Puss In Boots or a Tinkerbell might, but watching it too often will rot your eyeballs.

But there are laughs in here, there are knowing smiles and the odd mental round of applause for the creators.

It's bright, it's loud, and kids will love it - just like all good arcade games.


POST CREDITS EXTRA:
Well, kinda - what else was I gonna call this bit? DVD extra? Extra Popcorn? Rewind?
Actually I like the Popcorn one.
Anyway, that's not the point. Having had time to think about this review a bit more, I began to wonder - was it too glib? Did it just gloss over the film? Did I fail to dig beneath the surface?
So I thought about this.

And I read a laughable Guardian Blog (forget who wrote it, I was too busy shaking my head - lets call him Bungo) bemoaning the fact that Ralph (the implied bad guy here, according to Bungo, only he's not - someone else is) wants to be a good guy. Where have all the bad guys gone in kiddies' animation, he wails.

Sorry, but if this is what's bothering you right now, get out more. Have a sweetie and go for a paddle in the sea. The world is too big and scary for you.

Ralph may be the 'bad guy' in his game, as are the other game characters he meets at the support group, but that's just part of the film.

And the film has its own bad guy, like as what ol' Bungo was a crying for.

And then, the more I thought about it, I realised that you don't always have to look beneath the surface. Sometimes there's not even anything below there anyway.

And that's not always a bad thing.

Take Wreck-It Ralph. Might as well, it was the cause of Bungo's Blog and my review, so makes sense. There are themes of friendship, helping each other, that we all have our role to play but that role doesn't have to define us (who knew zombies could be so wise). And there's a teeny twist at the end that, I suspect, will make the wee ones grin with glee.

And that's it.

And that's fine.

The world's a baffling place at the best of times. Sometimes it's nice for a film - and a KIDS film at that, lest we forget - to just be a film.
Oh, and should Bungo ever happen upon this - RALPH IS NOT THE BAD GUY! Remember that bit at the end? Where the guy who was the guy suddenly starts showing himself to be not that guy? HE'S THE BAD GUY!
(This will make sense when you've seen the film. Sadly it'll be lost on ol' Bungo Blogger, 'cos he either didn't watch the film that far or didn't get it.)
Oh, and there are no monsters in Scooby Doo either. It's always the caretaker in a wig.
Right, time for some Coco Pops.

The 2013 EE BAFTAs

And so this year's EE Bafta awards have come to a close - what did we learn?
Well, for one, London this year belongs to Ben Affleck, with three well-deserved BAFTAs for the stunning Argo.
Elsewhere, Amour picked up a couple, Skyfall finally got recognised, and Django Unchained was garnished with some well deserved praise.
Of course, the night would have been nothing without the glorious Stephen Fry - and watching him at work once again, one is left wondering how the hell Ricky Gervais ever got asked to present so much as a sports day runners-up cup, never mind a premier awards show across the pond.
On a separate note, I know Orange (and T-Mobile) is now EE, but did they have to change the name of the awards? It just sounds like someone on Emerdale or The Archers has just got excited about Anne Hathaway...

Anyhoo, here are this year's runners and riders:
 
Best Animation
Brave

Outstanding British Film
Skyfall

Best Original Screenplay
Django Unchained

Best Supporting Actor
Christoph Waltz

Outstanding British Debut
Bart Layton/Dimitri Doganis for The Imposter

Special Visual Effects
Life Of Pi

Best Supporting Actress
Anne Hathaway

Best Adapted Screenplay
David O. Russell for The Silver Linings Playbook

The Outstanding Contribution To British Cinema
Tessa Ross of Film 4

Film Not In The English Language
Amour

Rising Star Award
Juno Temple (off of Killer Joe)

Best Documentary
Searching For Sugar Man

Best Director
Ben Affleck for Argo

Best Actress
Emmanuelle Riva

Best Actor
Daniel Day-Lewis

Best Film
Argo

BAFTA Fellowship
Alan Parker

Hitchcock (12A)

Biopics are tricky waters to go paddling in. Whoever you choose as your subject, someone somewhere will love that person and be distraught at your portrayal.

The best you can hope for is to capture a moment in your subject's life that encapsulates what they were known for and go from there.

Which is what Sacha Gervasi has done with Hitchcock.

Focusing on the making of Psycho, Hitchcock tells us how the great Alfred and Alma mortgaged themselves to the hilt to make a film that no one wanted them to make, from a book that shocked Hollywood, while Alma flirted with a screen writer and Hitch fixated on his latest star.

We also learn that Alma directed some scenes of Psycho while Hitch was laid up in bed. Or that could be all made up.

Writer John J Mclaughlin seems to have played a tad fast and loose with the facts surrounding one of the legendary man's defining films, but does this really matter? After all, according to some reviewers, this is a fitting portrayal - a film the good man would have been proud of.

Granted, while his ego would be massaged at the thought of being the focal point of a movie, I'm not sure he'd have approved of the way the whole thing is put together.

For a start, no one dies.

For seconds, it's as suspenseful and thrilling as Mary Poppins.

Which is not to say it's a bad film per se. It's not. It's just not great. Which is a shame. You can't fault the performances. Anthony Hopkins as Hitch is good, delivering a surprisingly measured - if a bit 'panto villainy' - performance, capturing Hitchcock's more sleazy side alongside his drive and ambition.

But it's the women who steal the show here. Scarlett Johansson is wonderful as Janet Leigh, the woman behind the shower curtain, while Jessica Biel more than holds her own as the somewhat jilted Vera Miles (who, if the film is to be believed, had the audacity to put family first, thus snubbing Hitch film desires). Then there's Toni Collette (playing the much put-upon Peggy Robertson), who's rigidity and icy calm could hold up buildings.

Helen Mirren, meanwhile, IS the film. As Alma, she is waspish, bitter, loving, supportive... everything you'd want from your real-life leading lady.

Which is one of the problems with the film. Yes, it's called Hitchcock - but he's in third place here.

The film is about the making of Psycho (appreciate you can't call the film that...), and it's about how much Alma had to go through (either real or made-up for dramatic effect here). It really should have been called Alma. It's her film. She takes centre stage in every scene she's in, showing more style and personality than Hopkins manages throughout the film (and, as I said, his is a fine performance).

The other problem I have with Hitchcock is the way it's presented. While I quite enjoyed the 'Alfred Hitchcock Presents' approach at the start, it actually takes away from the dramatic intent of the film, giving it a Sunday afternoon feel it never quite manages to shake off. And the less said about Hitch's chats with the ghost of the killer Ed Gein (the inspiration behind Norman Bates) the better.

Presumably these scenes were meant to be haunting or a quick psychological thrill - instead, they show Hitchcock as a man who gets spooked easily and talks to the wall...

As a tribute to the great man, Hitchcock falls some way short. As a harmless piece of cinematic fun, it fits the bill.

Pretty sure that's not what he would have wanted.

I Give It A Year (15)

There's a real art to making a movie trailer, you know. It's like magic.

You take the best bits of a movie, chop 'em up, shuffle 'em about, and - like an estate agent's particulars - you order them in such a way as to make the film shine while hiding the dodgy guttering and damp patch in the kitchen.

Even Movie 43 looks passable condensed down to a minute...

And it was precisely because of the aforementioned shit-fest that was Movie 43 that I was apprehensive about I Give It A Year. You see, I'd rather enjoyed the trailer. It made me laugh.

And recent experience has taught me that this can't end well.

It helped enormously that I'd missed the fact it was written and directed by Dan Mazer - the man who penned Borat. And Bruno. And Ali G Indahouse - as this would have only served to dampen expectations to subterranean levels.

But I needn't have worried. I Give It A Year is a funny film.

It's not brilliant. It won't change your life. But there's enough here to make you chuckle away. The premise is simple. Two people (Rose Byrne's Nat and Rafe Spall's Josh) get hitched after a whirlwind romance, and promptly discover how ill-suited they are together.

Through plot contrivances that stretch credibility to breaking point (do people REALLY seek marriage guidance months after saying 'I do'?), they seek help from the excellent film-stealing Olivia Colman. These bits are great.

They also seek advice from friends, and in Josh's case the girl he was with before Nat. What you get are a series of sketches, each with their own plot line and joke. Some go on a bit long, sure, but overall there are chuckles aplenty.

Which is why it was somewhat baffling to walk away from the screening feeling I'd had an empty experience.

To paraphrase, all the bits are there - just not in the right order.

Part of the problem is in the editing. I suspect that the set-up of the film is supposed to be the couple looking back over their time together from the perspective of their therapy sessions. But this isn't made fully clear at the right time.

Instead, what you end up with is a couple of bits with Ms Colman around other bits that show how the pair are ill-suited. It all just feels a bit off-kilter.

The cast are great. Everyone is on top form - even if Rafe doesn't seem fully at ease playing the romantic lead. Stephen Merchant as the best mate, Minnie Driver as Nat's sister, Anna Faris as the ex, Simon Baker as the rich client - they're all on top form. Tim Key beats them all as the solicitor, mind, but hey-ho. 

The writing is also a slight problem.  It is clear that Mr Mazer has watched a LOT of romantic comedies. And the good ones, too. He knows which bits are needed, and as painting-by-numbers go he's ended up with a cute puppy.

Unfortunately he's painted outside the lines.

In an effort to 'push' the comedy, he's added more swearing and nudity than Richard Curtis would deem necessary, resulting in a kind of Four Weddings And An American Pie mash-up.

Where as in Pie you expected crudity and vulgarity by the bra-full, it jars when put up against the more sedate, gentile Four Weddings. You can have one or the other no problems, they just don't mix that well.

And there are moments when bits of dialogue just leap out at you, clearly having been lifted from real life (Mazer himself has said he's taken inspiration from his own life) - and it's frankly bizarre that these bits (I won't spoil them for you - have some fun and try spotting them) jar so drastically with the bits that have bubbled up from his imagination.

Normally, writers manage to blend the two seamlessly - but then, blending and mixing is clearly something Mr M has a problem with.

By the by, in a recent interview Mazer said he wanted to make an 'edgy' romantic comedy. It's as edgy as Hush Puppies.

Still, despite all that, this film does what it sets out to do. It's a comedy that makes you laugh. And in my case, laugh a lot.

Sure there are problems with it, but no one's perfect. You might not want a long-term relationship with I Give It A Year, but you'll have a fun night together.

Chained (18)

Amazingly, this film is billed as a "film from Jennifer Lynch", as if this is a huge selling point.

Yes, she may be David's daughter, but she's still some way off having the same standing as the man who gave us Mulholland Drive, The Elephant Man, Blue Velvet and Twin Peaks.

What she does have is a CV that contains the words Boxing Helena, and while forewarned is forearmed, nothing prepares you for what unfolds during Unchained.

The plot sounds interesting enough - a serial killer abducts a nine-year-old boy and his mother, kills the mother and then raises the lad as his 'son', training him in the ways of the family business as he grows up.

And it's beautifully shot. There's no arguing with the fact Jennifer knows how a film should look.
And the use of sound is great. No crashing score here, there's a sparseness to the sound which is reminiscent of The Texas Chainsaw Massacre.

And the performances are good. Vincent D'Onfrio is a convincing psychopath as Bob, while Eamon Farren is hauntingly fragile as the unfortunate Rabbit.

But somehow it all fails to come together.

After the initial flurry of suspense and terror, it all settles down to a crashing snore fest. There are times you should be scared, but you're not. You should be afraid, but you're not. You should care about what's happening to Rabbit, but you don't.

The bulk of the film is played out in a strangely detached manner, leaving the audience disengaged from what should be a tortuous, harrowing experience.

By the time Rabbit has to carry out his first kill, you're not remotely arsed what he's going through or what happens to his victim.

And the final twist just feels like Jennifer bottled it and went for a safe option.

You'll find yourself asking questions as the plot unfolds. Questions such as "why haven't the police cottoned on to this bloke yet? It's been at least ten years".

The fact this question gets answered with a handy line of dialogue suggests Jennifer was asking the very same questions, but couldn't find any dramatic or convincing answers.

This could have been a great film. The parts are all there. But even having Julia Ormond in it briefly (as Rabbit's mum) doesn't save it.

Released on Friday and already out on DVD, something tells me Chained won't be troubling the 'best seller' lists anytime soon.

Flight (15)

A new film by Robert Zemeckis? The bloke what did Forrest Gump, Death Becomes Her and the Back To The Future trilogy? Oh this should be a bit of frothy fun...

Or not.

Even knowing Denzil Washington plays a pilot who saves a planeful of lives only for it to transpire that he may have had a drinkie or two the night before, nothing prepared me for just how tense and gripping a film this was going to be. Nothing.

I'm still in a slight state of shock now.

It all starts off innocently enough - Denzil's Whip Whittaker is naked, rowing with his ex-wife on the phone, doing a couple of lines to help wake up... All the stuff you'd be happy your pilot doing before he flew you on a short hop across a couple of States.

Meanwhile, in another part of the country, Kelly Reilly's hapless character Nicole is doing her best to clean up her act by shooting up a quick overdose of heroin.

And STILL nothing prepares you for what happens next.

You know there's a crash. The trailer shows you the crash crashing. All the film blurb mentions the crash. There's definitely a plane crash.

And this is a Zemeckis film. OK, there was a plane crash in Cast Away, but he's Zemeckis - there's no way this is going to be a tough... WOAH!

As soon as things start going wrong, you're transfixed, mesmerised. You're holding your breath, your holding your seat, you're probably holding the hand of the person next to you.

The plane is spinning, people are screaming, stowed luggage is unstowed, buckled passengers become unbuckled, breath is still being held.

And then Whip gets it on the ground.

And you can breathe again.

Only you can't. Because no longer has Zemeckis allowed you to relax, he starts turning the screw again as we watch Whip's life unravel as the truth starts to emerge. And this is where Denzil really shines.

In lesser hands, it would be hard to care for a man whose arrogance and denial are pretty much his only personality traits - but Denzil captures perfectly a man falling apart, forcing a surprising amount of sympathy from the audience (without giving anything away, there is a moment where you will almost want to stand and applaud).

But this isn't purely the Denzil show (although he more than deserves his Oscar nod).

Ms Reilly is wonderful as Whip's fallen angel who fell a bit too hard, John Goodman seems to be channelling his inner Dude - bringing brief light relief with a sinister undertone as Whip's 'friend' - and Don Cheadle is at his cool, aloof best as the lawyer who'll do what is needed to save the arse that's paying him.

That's not to say Flight is a flawless piece of work - it's not. God seems to be heavily invoked with no real sense of purpose or conclusion, it could have been a tad shorter, and the final scenes seem almost to deliberately add the schmaltz for the Oscar judges - but you find yourself forgiving all this as your emotions soar and plummet with Whip's turmoil-fuelled life.

I can't be sure I'll be getting on a plane anytime soon, but I know I'll be drawn back to watch Flight again.

Hyde Park On Hudson (12A)

And so, following hot on the heels of President Lincoln, Franklin D Roosevelt is brought to life in Hyde Park On Hudson - or, King's Speech II: Driving Miss Daisy, if you will.

Billed as the previously untold story of FDR with his mistress/cousin (at least fifth, so that's OK), and culled from letters found after Daisy died, Hyde Park On Hudson is weirdly both more AND less than that.

Because, while the "love" story is there, lurking in the shadows like a fifth cousin no one is supposed to know gave the president a hand job in his car, we also have Bertie and Queenie visiting the presidential homestead ahead of the outbreak of World War II.

And this is where things get complicated.

First, let's look at the positives. The performances can't be faulted. Bill Murray is great as FDR - acting with his eyes and face, given the president was unable to walk following a bout of polio. Olivia Colman and Samuel West take their turn as the royal couple, and manage to step out of the hefty shadows cast by Helena Bonham Carter and Colin Firth in The King's Speech. Olivia Williams is good as Eleanor (the woman the president is supposed to be legally sleeping with), and Laura Linney is fine as Daisy, the other other other woman.

It just all feels muddled and a bit light-weight.

Given the story came about from Daisy's stash of love letters and diaries, it seems odd that we don't actually get a clear picture of who she is, or why she decided to stick around as one of FDR's harem. She's portrayed as being shy, socially awkward, a bit wet and unsure of her place in the entourage, and FDR is certainly not a man to issue gushing sentiments of love and desire, so already the relationship seems off kilter.

Equally, FDR isn't painted as a man who commands sexual attraction - especially as his mother seems to be doing the matchmaking.

The relationship seems to be one of convenience - as in, it's convenient for everyone else.

And all of this is played out over the weekend of the royal visit. And not just any visit. Bertie was charged with getting America on side as that Hitler chap set his sights on taking over Europe.

And this, for me, is the actual story here.

It's got a clearer identity, it's better portrayed, and garners better performances from those involved (Murray's late-night chat with West is a great moment).

Questions of how Daisy knew anything about any of these events, given she was either at home with aged aunt or mooning about in the woods at night, are best left unasked. Presumably writer Richard Nelson did some research away from Daisy's scribblings, but one is still left thinking the rows in the royal quarters are the figment of his imagination.

It's almost as if he purposefully took the Queen's character in the opposite direction from HBC's portrayal just for the sake of being different rather than any actual historical accuracy.

And as the film progresses, we still don't know what the story is here - a love story or a political drama? Neither gets enough clarity or weight, and so we are left looking at the scenery.

It's as if Mr Nelson figured we knew who these famous people were, so there was no need to flesh out their characters. A simple sketch was deemed sufficient.

He was wrong.

Like I said, you can't fault the actors - they've done a good job with what they were given. They just needed more.

And so do the audience.