Dallas Buyers Club (15)

The problem with a film that comes along with a lot of hype, buzz and awards broo-ha-ha is that, by the time you come to watching them, you're already figuring it just can't be THAT good.

We've seen it already this year with The Wolf Of Wall Street and Inside Llewyn Davis - good films, sure, but falling some way of the hype.

And now we have Dallas Buyers Club - a film I was itching to see the minute I heard the story.

Because it's a story that needs to be told.

Also, Matthew McConaughey was reportedly giving the performance of his life - which is no small claim given his recent work.

So it was with no small sense of trepidation that I took my seat.

And within minutes I knew all would be well.

The key to this film is McConaughey - and not just because he's playing Ron Woodruff, the homophobic bigot who formed the titular Club back in the 80s as a way of circumnavigating American drug laws to ensure those dealing with HIV and Aids could get treatment that would actually help.

Woodruff is not a nice guy. A rampant womaniser, he's almost leader of the militant wing of the heterosexual brigade - something which makes it all the harder for him to understand and accept his diagnosis.

HIV? That's a gay disease, right?

And yet, despite his deplorable character traits, you kinda don't hate him - and as you go on this journey with him, you warm to him all the more as he grows and changes as a human being.

And I know that sounds sappy, but trust me - it's not.

Key to Woodruff's personal development is Rayon, a drug addict transsexual (played sublimely by Jared Leto of 30 Seconds To Mars fame) who delights in putting up pictures of Marc Bolan all round the office.

The friendship that grows between these two is at the heart of the movie, and as the political commentary about the issues surrounding a business-led health service develops, so two does the strength of Ron and Rayon's relationship.

But this is no Broke Back Bromance. There's no changing teams here - that's not the point of the film. This is an underdog story, the little guy trying to do the right thing even if the system says it's wrong.

The fact this is a true story adds weight to the grit and realism that director Jean-Marc Vallee has brought to the screen. No sugar coating here.

Much has been made about how 'funny' Dallas Buyers Club is, and while it does have it's lighter moments this is in no way a light movie.

Along with Ron we have to face his condition, along with Rayon we have to face a world he doesn't fit in to, with Dr Eve (a strong performance by Jennifer Garner) we have to navigate murky moral waters - and we also have to face up to our own views and prejudices.

Like Ron, you may think HIV and Aids is limited to one small section of society, like me you may not react well to a life-changing diagnosis (well, extremely life limiting in Ron's case), but what this film tells you is that people can change and people can over-come just about anything.

Strangely, one of the things that really impressed me was just how determined a previously lazy bigot can be as Ron investigates and then tracks down alternative treatments.

It's no surprise that Dallas Buyers Club is bothering this year's Oscar nominations - the subject matter alone made it a shoe-in - but the two central performances of McConaughey and Leto are just so sublime that you almost want them to just hand over the gongs now.

And if we're really lucky, that may be enough to stop Leto making music...

This isn't to say Dallas Buyers Club is perfect, it's not. It's a tad too long and drags it's heels a bit in the final third almost as if Vallee decided two hours was the required Oscar length.

But that really is the only negative.

This is a challenging, thought-provoking film that manages to put heart and emotion first and in so doing take the edge off what could have been quite a bleak tale (Out Of The Furnace take note).

It also manages to cover the seedier, sleazier elements of the story with far more subtlety and finesse than The Wolf Of Wall Street. Not that that would have been tricky.

This film will make you sad, it will make you cry, it should make you angry - but above all that, it will re-affirm your belief in Hollywood's ability to tell a tale so well that you're still thinking about it days after.

Out Of The Furnace (15)

Life can, as many a country and western song will tell you, be tough. Sometimes very tough.

Other times, it's Out Of The Furnace tough. And it doesn't get tougher than that.

And that's just watching it.

If you've missed the Oscar-hype and blurbing, Out Of The Furnace tells the tale of Christian Bale's Russell - a man with much to live for and a younger brother with a few problems.

Unfortunately, Russell finds himself behind bars after a fatal car crash where one final drink may have been a factor.

He returns to the outside world to find his father dead, his girl shacked up with the local cop and his brother - fresh from a final tour of duty in Iraq - engaging in illegal fights just to pay off his debts.

And then things get worse...

Infused with the DNA of Clint Eastwood (although he's not actually anything to do with it), Out Of The Furnace has things to say about life in a small town, soldiers who aren't cared for when they come home and people who have nothing to lose after losing everything.

And it does it slowly, thoughtfully, and with lots of gravelly voices mumbling. So you know it's serious,

On the upside, and it's a huge up, the film looks amazing, and the cast (also featuring Woody Harrelson, Casey Affleck, Willem Dafoe, Sam Shepherd, Zoe Saldana and Forest Whitaker) are all excellent.

The film forces you to confront truths certain parts of America would probably rather ignore - that in certain parts of the country, people are being left with nothing. And soldiers are coming home to less than that.

And it's not subtle in making these points.

Sadly, after an initial flurry and gripping moments and a couple of jumps, Furnace cools to a steady pace - and it's not quick.

That's not to say the film drags - and at two hours, it's not exactly long - but the pace is so consistent that moments of tension and drama kind of wander by before you've spotted their coming.

But that's the only real negative. Apart from the ending.

It's not a light watch - not by any stretch - but it does make you think. To the extent you feel like you've lived it alongside Bale (who should be up for this at the Oscars, not American Hustle).

There are no light touches here - it's dark, heavy, gritty and grinds on relentlessly, with the soundtrack capturing the working man done wrong ethos.

But that's no reason to avoid it.

Well, probably not.

My only major issue was the ending. There's no rousing conclusion, no sense of justice, of wrongs being righted - just that everything is final. Stuff ends. And so does this.

Which is a shame, because after two hours of this, you kinda need a lift. And a drink. But certainly a lift.

Lone Survivor (15)

Here at Unsalted Popcorn, we have one hard and fast rule - no spoilers.

We have other rules, of course, like no talking when the film is on, no diving in the shallow end, all the usual - but the biggie is no spoilers.

Which makes reviewing Lone Survivor a tad tricky. The clue's in the title.

And just in case you missed that fact, the opening scene has them fighting to save Mark Wahlberg's life. The opening scenes.

This is the one time I'd suggest you go in five minutes after the film has started.

Such issues aside, however, and even though you know what's coming and who comes out of it all at the end, Lone Survivor is a surprisingly tense film.

Telling the true story of Operation Red Wing, one of the less successful operations in Afghanistan, Lone Survivor is both a recruitment campaign for Navy Seals and an anti-war film.

Which is a neat trick to pull off.

Opening and closing with real-life footage and photographs of real-life Navy Seals, including the men who died during the operation, the film is basically a Western in the middle section as our heroes are trapped in a ravine fighting against the odds.

And it's this main section of the film that is the winner.

Putting you right in the heart of the action, you'll find yourself edging forward in your seat long before the gang of four leap to safety for the first time - hitting just about every rock on the way down.

Peter Berg's direction has you feeling every bullet whizz past, every rocket that lands just feet away, and as the situation gets more and more impossible, your heart rate will start accelerating.

In fact, you'll get so caught up in the fighting, that you almost forget who it is who survives.

Which makes it such a shame that both the opening 20 minutes (Seals at play, if you will) and the final 20 minutes (Wahlberg continues to fight against all the odds) are almost surplus to requirements.

We don't need to spend time getting to know the four Seals, as we do all that when they're under fire - and we don't need to see Wahlberg's Marcus Luttrel fighting yet again for his life, because by now we've remembered the one who's left and we know he survives.

But in the middle there...

The performances are good, that's for sure - with Taylor Kitsch, Emile Hirsch and Ben Foster all holding their own alongside Wahlberg.

The stand-out performance, however, has to be Eric Banner's.

Already known for being a great actor, with ease he outclasses Wahlberg with his subtle strength and poise. Which either highlights his skills, or Wahlberg's limitations.

But, and I keep coming back to this, the actual operation is brilliant.

You wince as the soldiers leap, dive and fall down mountain sides, you squirm as they treat their wounds, you gasp when the cavalry arrives - it's a brilliant mini-war film sandwiched amongst the propaganda.

Sadly, though, it is the film's main agenda that takes the shine off what could have been a stunning war drama.

By going down the 'our brave boys' route, the film actually dampens the admiration you have for what our soldiers have been going through out there.

We know it's been tough, we know they've been doing some amazing things in horrendous conditions, but by yanking on the heart strings you're left feeling manipulated rather than having your own, genuine feelings.

But the fight scenes. Wow.

August: Osage County (15)

There is, occasionally, a problem in transferring a play from the stage to celluloid.

Carnage back in 2011 suffered from this, feeling exactly like you were watching a play rather than watching a film.

August: Osage County at least feels like it is a film, but there are other aspects of the production that leap out and remind you that this was previously on the boards and came with an interval and ice cream.

But I'm getting ahead of myself. Let's start at the start. Or scene one, if you will.

Written by Tracy Letts (who also handled screenplay duties), August tells the story of a family brought together by tragedy, who then have to face some home truths and get airs cleared.

Starring, among others, Meryl Streep, Julia Roberts, Juliette Lewis, Sam Shepard, Chris Cooper and the wonderful Margo Martindale, the action basically takes place in a house - with the odd break for a toddle in the garden.

And the performances are stunning.

Dermot Mulrooney aside (he's essentially playing Dermot Mulrooney), there's not a bad apple in the whole barrel, and as laughter and tears flow freely you're enrapatured and convinced.

And in places it is very funny - in particular Chris Cooper saying Grace; Elsewhere, heartbreaking and poignant.

But it's clear very early on that Letts likes a Tennessee Williams play or three - and this becomes more apparant as the film goes on.

Along with many a mention of the heat, there are sections of dialogue that just seem to leap from a Williams text.

I'm not suggesting plagarism, but the tone, rhythm and style all have his DNA in them.

Now, this may work well on the stage (and the success of the play suggests it certainly does), but it's a step too far to try and shoe-horn such word-heavy passages into a more contemporary format.

It may not bother everyone, of course.

A bigger issue is the direction.

Handled by John Wells (whose only other film was the disappointing The Company Men), you are left with a feeling that you get the over-view but no detail.

There are times when you really want to be in close - especially when Roberts and Streep and going at it hammer and tongs - but you are kept at a distance. The same distance from which you watch three sisters trying to reconnect.

What should be passionate, touching scenes are left feeling slightly cold. Which is a shame.

I also have an issue with the continuity (watch this and keep an eye on Streep's disappearing ciggies), but I fear this is starting to get a bit negative.

While there are problems with this film, the look of it is great and the performances - as I may have mentioned - are excellent.

Roberts as the elder sister, Lewis and Julianne Nicholson as her siblings, Benedict Cumberbatch as the cousin, Ewan McGregor as Roberts' estranged hubbie - they are all brilliant and faultless.

But for every high, there seems to be a low, which takes the edge off a tad and leave you wishing you'd seen this lot performing August: Osage County on the stage.

Inside Llewyn Davis (15)

No matter what it is they do, a Cohen brothers' film is always going to garner interest and attention.

Like Neil Young, you might not like everything they produce, but you sure want to see what it is they've done this time round.

From the sublime (No Country For Old Men) to the misjudged (The Ladykillers) to the audience-splitters (The Big Lebowski is either loved or hated), the Cohens never fail to garner a reaction.

Inside Llewyn Davis, it seems, falls in the third camp. At least for the rest of the world.

Sitting here now, writing this, I'm still not sure what I think about it - which is not a reaction I'm used to when watching something these two have produced.

The story of a down-at-heel folk singer (played by Oscar Isaac), struggling to come to terms with the death of his band partner and his failing solo career is at times darkly funny, but overall feels shallow and insignificant.

Which is probably the one thing I wasn't expecting to feel.

A lot has been written about how unlikeable Davis is, but that's not something I had an issue with - there are clear reasons for his behaviour, and while he may be an unmitigated arse you can kind of cut him some slack.

A lot has also been written about the cat - with some claiming it's symbolic of the life Davis is struggling to cope without and the career he is trying to make on his own.

On the surface at least, it's a handy comic device which also serves to garner sympathy for a man who pisses everyone off as he moves from couch to couch. A sympathy the Cohens do away with two-thirds of the way through the film.

It could, of course, just be a cat.

But it's not the cat, or the story, that causes me problems with this film - both are great and work well. It's the other characters.

Carey Mulligan (playing Jean, who has a complicated relationship with Davis) and Jon Goodman (playing a jazz musician) both do well with the little they're given - the characters are just not well drawn enough.

Carey's angry character gives us no reason to like her, and her dialogue is staggeringly unconvincing, while Goodman's Roland Turner just seems to be an overblown cliche.

Both of which chip away at your connection to the film.

The one character who seems well-conceived is Davis himself, with everyone else merely window dressing.

But I'm beginning to think this is a deliberate conceit rather than poor storytelling.

One huge plus for this film, of course, is the music - with Please Mr Kennedy a particular highlight - and it's the use of the music, and the setting of all this in the blossoming New York folk scene of the early 60s, that makes me think the Cohens might be up to something.

Like folk songs themselves, this film feels flimsy, almost overtly whimsical, with first impressions not always favourable.

But like any good song - folk or otherwise - the more you think about it, or even re-visit it, the more you get out of it.

I started writing this review still unsure as to what I thought of Inside Llewyn Davis, yet as I've been hamming at the ol' keyboard more thoughts and views have come to mind.

I think I like it a lot more than I first thought.

I know I want to watch it again.

And I like the cat.

It's not a Cohen classic by any means, but I think there's more going on here than appears on the surface (again, much like a really good folk song).

Of course, that could all be cobblers and the Cohens are just having a laugh at everyone else's expense. Let's not rule that out.

But I'll be watching it again. Just to double check.

The Wolf Of Wall Street (18)

There's two things that need saying about The Wolf Of Wall Street before we start - first, no wolves are featured; second, it's three hours long.

Three hours. Three. Whole. Hours.

And it feels it two. Suddenly The Hobbitsis could qualify for a short film award.

And the length of the film is an important factor here - and not just because of what else you could do in that time (drive to Scotland from my house for example).

It's because - at twice the length of a 'normal' film - there is a point in Wolf where it suddenly feels like another movie. And it comes half way through.

The shift in tone is so marked, I actually sat up. And I kept waiting for it to return to the brash, loud, busy glorious mess of the first half.

Only it didn't.

Which was a shame, because the first half is a blast.

Telling the story (based on the swindler's own book) of Jordan Belfort, a man who found a way to make a lot of money selling crap stocks, Wolf lifts the lid on how money was being made.

And he made a LOT before the Feds caught up with him.

And that's really what the first half of the film is all about - Belfort's rise up the greasy Wall Street pole.

And even though you know he's a shyster, you kinda like him - which is entirely down to Leonardo DiCaprio's performance.

Mixing laughter with humanity, the corruption of an innocent young man with a dream is both believable and emotional.

Yes, he screws up. Yes, he screws other people. Yes, he snorts and swallows everything he can get his hands on, but because the film is basically shouting PARTY at you, you go with it.

And the tone and feel of the film is great during the first half - it races along, it's loud, everyone shouts, shags, sniffs and snorts their way to making millions at other people's expense.

And then (without giving too much away), a conversation happens on a boat.

And immediately, it all changes.

Scenes are longer, conversations are longer, the pace is slower, and you start to shift in your chair.

The party is over it seems.

While the first half of Wolf is about how to become rich, the second half is about how to stay rich and not get sent to jail.

And here's where the problems arise.

Having warmed to Belfort (even though you know you shouldn't), he becomes unlikeable (again, all credit to Leo for this) - his arrogance coming to the fore.

Which wouldn't be a problem if you were given more to work with on the side of those trying to bring the self-appointed wolf down.

But you aren't.

They're just The Man doing His Job. Yes, you get a glimpse into the character of Agent Denham (played well by Kyle Chandler), but not enough to really root for him.

But then, he's not really in it enough either.

By hanging the whole story on Belfort's exploits, the film is going to stand and fall on how the audience deal with his exploits - and as he never thinks he's doing anything wrong, it gets harder and harder to root for him as the film goes on.

Case in point - there's an accident late on, and I didn't give a monkey's who survived. I was past caring.

I kinda get why it's as long as it is - the excess of the period, the 'gotta have it all - gotta do it all' attitude that went unregulated is mirrored in a film that aims to show you everything without any sense of being edited.

But that doesn't make it a great film (the Oscar nod is baffling when All Is Lost has been ignored).

It's brilliantly performed (the main cast is brilliant, and Joanna Lumley's in it), and well filmed, but in trying to capture the excesses of one man, something is lost.

There are judgements on Wall Street and officials, but these are handled so lightly as to not really trouble the overall themes - which are, that with money, you can do what you want.

Which may be the point director Martin Scorsese was trying to make - but it would have felt less grubby if he'd made it clear that was a negative rather than a positive.

All Is Lost (12A)

Occasionally, Cineworld do a good thing. Something so good you could almost hug the manager.

Late last year, All Is Lost popped up and then, ironically, seemed to sink without trace. Then, low and behold, there it is in Sheffield.

And this is something that, at the end of a pretty crappy week, has put a spring back in my step.

Now I know a film about one man in a boat isn't going to be everybody's cup of desalinated sea water, but when that man is Robert Redford, and the writer director is J.C. "Margin Call' Chandor...

I know some people have said All Is Lost is Life Of Pi without Richard Parker, but it's not. It's so much more than that.

If it's going to be likened to anything, it should be likened to Gravity. Only in a boat, obviously.

Also, before I start waxing lyrical, let's be clear from the outset - while short, this film is slow paced, and some people (podcast listeners will know who I mean) will claim nothing happens.

Cobblers is my considered response.

I'll be honest, cast anyone other than Redford as Our Man and this film could easily have slipped into nothingness.

Instead, from the opening scenes of water lapping around his cabin bed, Redford just owns the screen.

There's no competition, no acting off anyone, no reacting to lines being delivered - there's just Redford, a boat, a life raft and the open sea.

And it's mesmerising.

He is so believable, so entrancing, that when Our Man stumbles or falls you find yourself going to catch him. When he's struggling to light a flare, it's all you can do NOT to shout at the screen.

The filming of All Is Lost is as equally as good as Redford's performance (another ball dropped by the Oscar numpties), shifting effortlessly between the darkened cabin, the airy deck and the sun-baked life raft (we know it's a life raft, because when it's dropped down it says so in big letters).

But the piece de resistance is the sound.

Subtle orchestration keeps you afloat during the more peaceful moments, but when the drama starts increasing everything is left to the ambient sound - the creak of a boat, the distant rumble of a storm.

This works so well, you'll find your heart skipping a beat before you've twigged what's happening. And just because some wood creaked.

Now, as I said earlier, All Is Lost has been likened to Life Of Pi - which is wrong on many levels.

For a start, All Is Lost works sublimely in 2D. No need for oars to poke out at the audience here.

Also, the level of believability is so high, adding tigers (real or imaginary) would capsize the whole thing. There's no need for stripy metaphors or people in Our Man's head. He's too busy trying to stay afloat after hitting a stray container.

And that's why this film has far more in common with Gravity - one person fighting for survival following events beyond their control.

Only on water, obviously.

And if nothing else, the water is the reason Redford should be up for a gong. By the end of the film, he's been soaked so often it's a miracle he hasn't shrunk.

Given that he's no spring chicken, to see him thrown into the drink on so many occasions just gives more respect for this performance.

I'd even go as far as to suggest it could be his finest.

Remember, there's just him. No one else. Yet, through subtle touches and even subtler actions, you feel you know exactly who Our Man is from the off.

Which is why you are rooting for him.

While Bullock was given the time (and space, eh? Eh? Really? No one?) to explain her character's back story, Redford has just wardrobe, props and his face. That's it.

And he bloody nails it.

So often you chase a film down, desperate to see something you believe to be special, only to find it was a bit 'meh'.

With All Is Lost, high expectations were exceeded to such an extent I may move into Sheffield's Cineworld for the next few days just to watch it endlessly on repeat.

My one regret is not seeing it before the end of 2013 because THIS would have been my film of the year.

(PS - just watched the trailer again. My heart is now racing. Again.)