Mamma Mia! Here We Go Again - Film Review

July 11^th, 2008. Going into the cinema to watch Mamma Mia with my dad, I had no idea what to expect. Upon leaving, I had just gone through one of my best cinema-going experiences. Ten years later, I feel the same way. I know Mamma Mia is necessarily ‘good’ film-making. I knew that back in 2008; Mamma Mia came out in the same month as The Dark Knight and Wall-E (in the UK, anyway, which I think are vastly superior films. Mamma Mia was simply meant to be a cheerily cheesy love letter to the music of ABBA, performed by actors (particularly the more experienced cast members) who knew exactly what tone to go for. And, from the enthused response from both my cinema viewings of the film (the former with my dad and the latter with my grandma), I’d say that it wildly succeeded. Cinema, much like life itself, has a vast fluidity and variety which enables different people to find satisfaction. Mamma Mia delivered that for many people, becoming a worldwide hit in the process. That makes a sequel both understandable and slightly worrying; after all, Mamma Mia! Here We Go Again could have easily been nothing more than a cash-grab. Thankfully, that’s not the case. Now I’m sure the studio executives are hoping for this to be a huge hit. But Here We Go Again doesn’t feel designed solely for that purpose. From early on, the film introduces an unexpected layer of pathos and, aside from another giddily cheerful trip through ABBA’s oeuvre, has a beautiful message about the passage of time (and both the pain and joy inherent in that) which makes the existence of this sequel both earnt and welcome.

Picking up five years after the original, Sophie (Amanda Seyfried) is having a crisis. Trying to honour her absent mother Donna (Meryl Streep), she finds her relationship with her husband Sky (Dominic Cooper) under strain while struggling to decide which direction to take. Intercut with Sophie’s story is the tale of young Donna (Lily James) as she decides to travel the world for new exciting experiences. Her journey leads her to the Greek Island of Kalokairi, as well as encounters with Sophie’s three potential fathers; Harry (Hugh Skinner in flashbacks, Colin Firth in present), Sam (Jeremy Irvine in flashbacks, Pierce Brosnan in present) and Bill (Josh Dylan in flashbacks, Stellan Skarsgard in present).

Writer-director Ol Parker, taking over from original director Phyllida Lloyd and writer Catherine Johnson, seems to be making his own mark on the material. This is sometimes detrimental to the events of the original; the encounters Donna has with her three suitors don’t match up to the order as established in the first film, and the timeline for both films is made even more difficult to decipher (the flashbacks take place in 1979, but if Here We Go Again is set in the very present, that would make Sophie 38 years old, which doesn’t quite add up). However, with those noticeable flaws set aside, Parker shows much more confidence and welcome self-awareness in both his dialogue and choreography than his predecessors. This immensely helps his actors, all of whom imbue their performances with either cheerful abandon and/or surprising poignancy. Firth and Skarsgard especially embrace the silliness and make wonderful fools of themselves; their entrance into the ‘Dancing Queen’ number, despite being a gesture parodied multiple times, still got a huge laugh from the audience. Both Skinner and Dylan do a terrific job playing the younger versions of those characters, too; Skinner captures Firth’s upper-class charm and almost-panicked energy to a tee (his duet of ‘Waterloo’ with Lily James is a highlight), and Dylan is a dead-ringer for Skarsgard’s self-assurance and down-to-earth likeability.

Other show-stealing turns come from Julie Walters and Christine Baranski, both offering warmly hilarious support as Donna’s friends Rosie and Tanya; their shared rendition of Angel Eyes is a thing of comic beauty, especially Walters’ somewhat unsure choreography. Alexa Davies and Jessica Keenan Wynn are just as good in playing younger Rosie and Tanya respectively; it’s almost uncanny how much Wynn, in particular, resembles Baranski in both appearance, speech and behaviour. Jeremy Irvine is also solid in capturing younger Pierce Brosnan, even though his performance doesn’t leave quite as big an impression as his flashback co-stars. Speaking of Brosnan, he’s surprisingly effective here. After the original Mamma Mia, Brosnan was criticized (rather brutally, actually) for his limited singing abilities. Parker, recognizing this limitation, strips Brosnan of any big, belt-‘em-out numbers and instead makes him sing mainly as part of the ensemble. The only time Brosnan sings solo is very restrained and sorrowful, and even if his voice isn’t great on its own, the emotion he puts into the song creates an unforced sadness. Seyfried delivers an improved performance over her work in the original, coming across as more mature and uncertain. It doesn’t hurt that her singing voice is still very nice to listen to. Joining the original cast in the present-day scenes are Andy Garcia as the new manager of Donna’s hotel and Cher as Sophie’s elusive grandmother. Both these actors lend a professional grace and confidence to their scenes, and when Cher starts to belt out ‘Fernando’, you’re reminded why she’s truly one of the greats with that booming yet tender and gorgeous voice. Brilliantly judged comic turns from Omid Djalili as a perplexingly ageless customs officer and Panos Mouzourakis as an energized singer on Kalokairi round out the fantastic cast. Even the weakest of the principal cast, Dominic Cooper, is passable enough to avoid too much scrutiny. 

But the star of this film, without a doubt in my mind, is Lily James. While I’ve been impressed with her work before (most recently in last year’s Baby Driver), she takes this starring role and knocks it out of the park. She is a force of nature, both in her portrayal of the care-free and vivacious Donna and in her song numbers. She gets the most song/dance time out of all the cast, and James is mesmerizing to watch and to listen to. All of her numbers are strong, but the stand-outs are her introduction number ‘When I Kissed the Teacher’, that aforementioned ‘Waterloo’ duet, her teasing duet of ‘Why Did It Have to Be Me’ with Josh Dylan and her serenely vulnerable performance of ‘Andante, Andante’; I have been listening to the latter as much as possible over the past couple of days. Donna is the thorough-line for the film, and James’s star presence is nothing less than a gift.

Technically, the choreography of the numbers is much-improved over the original. Also, the settings are more unique; the ‘Dancing Queen’ sequence in this film eclipses that in the first mainly for how and where the sequence plays out, and the framing of the lovelorn duet ‘One of Us’ uses simple but effective framing to emphasise how close yet how far Sophie and Sky are from each other. Meanwhile, the Croatian Island of Vis makes a stunning stand-in for the Island of Kalokairi, and the cinematography once again basks in the glorious sunshine as much as possible.            

Time... It is a beautiful yet terrible thing, offering us the chance to grow, live and create new lives in the process all with the knowledge that our own moments are fleeting. It is a cyclical process, with every ending coming in close proximity to a new beginning. In the ten years between the original and the sequel, I personally have learnt both great and harsh lessons about life, and I have lost loved ones along the way. For all of the bubbly energy and fun on display here (the older members of the cast have an amusing yet relatable reaction to a certain lyric from ‘Dancing Queen’), the acknowledgement of life’s pleasures, pains and their impending closure lends the film a bitterly poignant sting. Proving an underlying fixture for much of the run-time, the emotional punch comes full circle in an epilogue which had me fighting back tears.

Mamma Mia! Here We Go Again has stronger production values, a more on-point cast, a slew of hilarious moments and a much more defined sense of confidence when compared to its predecessor. But it’s in the painfully identifiable acknowledgement of life’s fallibility, and the drive to live as passionately fulfilling an existence as possible until the day our time has been spent, that this initially-thought unnecessary project becomes one of the most surprisingly delightful and moving sequels for quite some time.  

On a final note, stay until after the credits. There’s a small but priceless moment which is worth catching.

Final Rating: 4 out of 5

Super Troopers 2

The original Super Troopers, despite making a relatively small impact during its theatrical run back in 2002, gathered a cult audience on home media. It will be interesting to see if Super Troopers 2 gains the same cult appeal, but I wouldn't be surprised; despite its often amateurish, low-brow and unfocused approach, there is a certain chemistry between the lead actors which makes the film intermittently entertaining to watch, despite the lack of laugh-out-loud moments and the occasional jokes which fall flat.










The Vermont Highway Patrol - Arcot "Thorny" Ramathorn (Jay Chandrasekhar, who also directs), Jeff Foster (Paul Soter), MacIntyre "Mac" Womack (Steve Lemme), Robert "Rabbit" Rota (Eric Stolhanske), Rodney "Rod" Farva (Kevin Heffernan) and Captain John O'Hagen (Brian Cox) - return from forced retirement when a border dispute results in Canadian land possibly being on American soil. Being chosen as the border force to phase out the current Canadian Mounties, the troopers try to adjust to the Canadian way of life... With typically unprofessional results.









Let's make one thing clear; the majority of the humour in Super Troopers 2 goes for one level and stays there. There is a lot of broad stereo-typing when it comes to both the Americans and the Canadians; the jokes aimed at the Canadians, in particular, can't help but feel a little tried and tired (if you've never heard a joke about Canadian pronunciation or their love of hockey, get ready to have your mind blown). There are more than a few moments when the lack of variation on these old stereotypes gets irritating, but the goofy camaraderie of Hayes MacArthur, Tyler Labine and Will Sasso as the Canadian Mounties, along with Rob Lowe's scenery-devouring turn as local mayor Guy Le Franc and Emmanuelle Chriqui's game support as cultural attaché Genevieve Aubois, paradoxically lends some charm to their scenes no matter how long in the tooth their characterisation may be.










The actors portraying the Vermont Highway Patrol (this group of actors are also known as the 'Broken Lizard' comedy group) have solid interplay between each other; you can tell that they're worked together for a while, which actually helps to inform their characters and their relationships. This history makes certain scenes work better, and comes across more effectively through the cast's on-screen antics than through the lazy screenplay (the group wrote the script together; when five comedians come together to write a script, you'd hope for better and more consistent jokes). Out of all the Troopers, though, easily the stand-out is Brian Cox. Cox is often seen as such a serious, Shakespearean actor that it's a real joy to watch him cut loose like this, and whether the Captain is berating his men or joining in on their wacky antics, Cox is a very funny screen presence.










As a director, Jay Chandrasekhar doesn't really do much; his choice of camera techniques are fairly standard, and he fails to lend much flair to proceedings. Granted, Super Troopers 2 isn't the kind of film where you might expect to see top-tier filmmaking, but I still like to see directors do something interesting with their material. Chandrasekhar makes two wise moves, though. The first is to give everyone in the cast a chance to put their own spin on proceedings; if he hadn't done this, the film might have been downright insufferable. The second is not to make audiences feel like they must have seen the first film. I'm not saying that he doesn't copy jokes from the first film (there's a cameo which focuses on highlighting one of the first film's signature jokes), but Chandrasekhar doesn't go the route of, say, The Hangover Part 2, where so many of the jokes and story beats hang on the audience's experience with the first film ("it happened again").










There isn't much to make Super Troopers 2 a worthwhile trek to the cinema. The jokes are mostly tired, the technical credits are pretty basic in quality and neither the script or direction do much to add any flavour. But, as I said before, the cast all have a likeability and an enjoyable way of playing off each other, which makes some of the jokes land and even makes the ones that don't a little more bearable. There are also a few colourful cameos (easily the best comes during the end credits). My advice: Wait 'til the film comes out on home media, get a few friends together, have a couple of drinks and lower your expectations. Those are probably the best conditions under which to watch Super Troopers 2.










My Final Rating - 2.5 out of 5 

Mini-Reviews: Tomb Raider and Pacific Rim: Uprising

Seeing as these are two films which have been out for a while now and are probably either on the way out or already out of most cinemas, I thought I’d do quick mini-reviews for both. So, here we go…

Tomb Raider

Alicia Vikander brilliantly takes on the famous role of Lara Croft in this franchise reboot. While I do have more affection for the 2001 film featuring Angelina Jolie at her bad-ass best, this iteration is still an intermittently entertaining, albeit grittier, take on the character. Director Roar Uthaug starts off strong with an exciting and surprisingly interesting opening act before things become more standard with the introduction of the villain (portrayed by a disappointingly lacklustre Walton Goggins). The action following the introduction, while competently constructed, pales in comparison to similar adventure films. Throughout it all, though, Vikander shines. She makes Lara into a fun and authentic character, aided by engaging support from Dominic West as Lara’s father and Daniel Wu as her travel companion Lu Ren, with fun appearances from the likes of Kristen Scott Thomas, Derek Jacobi and Nick Frost. This is likely one of the better video game adaptations, even though that isn’t saying much. While I love Vikander and hope to see more of her as this character, there’ll hopefully be something more fresh and energised to further emphasise and reward the efforts of its leading lady in any possible future instalments. 

Rating: 2.5 out of 5

Pacific Rim: Uprising

Giant robots once again fight giant monsters in this fitfully enjoyable, but mostly uninspired, sequel to 2013’s Pacific Rim. John Boyega (better known as Finn from Star Wars) proves to be a quirkily enjoyable lead, and his chemistry with the equally interesting Cailee Spaeny leads to some likeable banter. It’s a shame that none of the other characters go beyond either thinly-written, pure stereotype or both; Tian Jing (who made such a strong impression in last year’s The Great Wall) continues to be under-used, Scott Eastwood still fails to leave much of an impact as an actor and the returning trio of Rinko Kikuchi, Charlie Day and Burn Gorman are either treated poorly, given too prominent a role or left to struggle with the tone (I really can’t emphasise how misjudged Day’s expanded role is here). The bread and butter of the film, the visual effects and the action, are still colourful enough to offer some eye candy. Director Steven S. DeKnight does adequate work in his feature debut, but he seems like more of a man-for-hire when compared with the affection and giddy attention to detail apparent in Guillermo del Toro’s direction of the original. del Toro seemed to genuinely care about making a visually memorable and exciting film the first time around. Here, it overbearingly feels like a studio-mandated affair. There’s also the baggage of too much exposition, one of the most awkwardly half-baked romantic triangles in recent memory (if you could even call it that) and an ending which screams of sequel begging. Altogether, Pacific Rim: Uprising feels like a forced imitation of everything that made the original such an energetically large-scale yet oddly personal affair. 

Rating: 2 out of 5

Despicable Me 3

Gru and the Minions are back for more colourful havoc in Despicable Me 3...

Now working for the AVL (Anti-Villain League) alongside his new wife Lucy (voiced by Kristin Wiig), Gru (voiced by Steve Carell) encounters a new enemy; 80’s-obsessed villain Balthazar Bratt (voiced by Trey Parker). After a botched encounter with Bratt, Gru receives word from his long-lost brother Dru (also voiced by Carell). Gru, Lucy and Gru’s adopted daughters Margo (voiced by Miranda Cosgrave), Agnes (voiced by Nev Scharrel) and Edith (voiced by Dana Gaier) travel to meet Dru, who has an proposition for Gru. And, of course, the Minions are getting up to their usual mischief.

2010’s Despicable Me was a genuine surprise. Over-the-top and gleefully silly, the film was a cheerful and very enjoyable family animation. While nothing game-changing, it had enough charm and humour to stick with audiences. The unexpected success of the film in both cinema and home entertainment led to a still-entertaining, if slightly rambling, sequel in 2013’s Despicable Me 2, which was the third highest-grossing film at the worldwide box office that year (behind Iron Man 3 and Frozen). And considering that 2015 spin-off Minions broke $1 billion at the worldwide box office, Despicable Me 3 really wasn’t a surprising prospect. While the formula is starting to become slightly rote, there is still enough frenetic energy, visual wit and appealing voice-work here to make Despicable Me 3 an amusing, if familiar, summer pastime.

Steve Carell once again vanishes into the role of Gru with spirited abandon, blending his goofy villainy with a warm-hearted likability. Carell also gets a bit more work to do here voicing Dru, and he excels at portraying Gru’s more giddily excitable and unpolished twin. The scenes between Gru and Dru mark the most interesting new dynamic of the series, watching these two different yet similar brothers getting to know each other. Kristin Wiig is delightfully eccentric as Lucy, and the trio of Miranda Cosgrove, Nev Scharrel and Dana Gaier again breathe eclectic, bubbly life into the roles of Margo, Agnes and Edith respectively. In supporting roles, Steve Coogan is nigh-on un-recognisable as Dru’s butler Fritz (he also briefly voices the head of the AVL, Silas Ramsbottom), while there is a amusing return from one of the original film’s cast members. And, as Balthazar Bratt. Trey Parker (South Park’s Eric Cartman) brings a manical pep to every scene he’s in. Bratt is an inspired comical invention; his backstory and reason for being a villain, as well as his fascination with the 80’s, is hilarious. Parker’s vocal stamina enlivens every moment when Bratt’s on screen, but I wish he had more moments. I understand that Gru’s opponents have never been a pivotal focus in prior films, but with a creation as delightful as Bratt, I wish they’d changed the formula slightly (we’ll get back to the formula later).

While I have no issues with the cast, the writing and story (both by Cinco Paul and Ken Daurio) leave something to be desired. The narrative is alternatively over-stuffed and flimsy, giving too much screen-time to pointless subplots whilst lacking enough creative juice to support a feature-length run-time. While entertaining (the Minions get into some amusingly out-there situations), some of this material feels more like a Minion short film than part of a feature length film. In all honesty, these subplots take away time I would rather be spending with Gru and Dru, or with Bratt. Also, while the scenes between Gru and Dru are fun, Lucy’s sub-plot is thoroughly predictable. Wiig is still a lovable presence and the moments between Lucy and Gru do have an endearing sweetness, but I wish they had given both Wiig and her character a story which didn’t feel so cliched for a family film.

Technically, DM3 falls in line with the other entries from the series. The soundtrack is full of enjoyable pop songs which only implement the film’s light-heartedness. The animation is consistently lively and vibrant, although it sometimes feels a bit hectic. Directors Kyle Balda, Eric Guillon and Pierre Coffin (the latter of whom also provides the ticklish vocals for the Minions) hit the beats efficiently, providing exactly what audiences have come to expect.

‘Providing exactly what audiences have come to expect’ can be either a good thing or a bad thing. I won’t say that Despicable Me 3 is bad, but there’s a growing sense of the obviously formulaic. Another recent third entry in a family series, Cars 3, showed elements of the formula for that series whilst also taking things in a new, interesting and surprisingly soulful direction. Despicable Me 3 is content with keeping things (mostly) the same, and while some will love it, I’m starting to find it a bit tiresome and hollow. Again, I don’t hate the film. There’s sufficient zest, silliness, bright animation and inspired vocal work to make DM3 an entertaining watch, and there’s an admittedly interesting set-up which might bring some of the audience back for a fourth instalment. But, if there aren’t a few new ingredients to the established recipe, I don’t think I’ll be a part of that audience.        

Final Rating: 3 out of 5

Dunkirk

1940, France. 400,000 soldiers are trapped on the beach of Dunkirk awaiting evacuation, the German forces getting closer by the minute. German planes rain terrible destruction from the skies, the shrieking of their engines filling the air with eerie dread. U-Boats punch holes in the vast British destroyers, plunging many soldiers and nurses into watery graves. And, despite the best efforts of the French forces, the German soldiers on land push forward with vicious determination…

It is a nigh-on impossible task to re-create the terror and desperation going through the minds and souls of those soldiers who are just trying to survive and escape (not to mention the RAF men tasked with fending off the Luftwaffe), but writer-director Christopher Nolan has taken on many nigh-on impossible tasks throughout his career thus far. Most of these endeavours have paid off spectacularly; Nolan’s filmography is peppered with astounding achievements, some of which have arguably changed the ways in which film are constructed and marketed. How many superhero films since 2008 have tried to replicate the ‘dark and gritty’ feel of 2008’s The Dark Knight and how many films/trailers have used the signature ‘bwaam’ sound from the score for 2010’s Inception? And I’m going to cut right to the chase, here; Dunkirk not only joins Nolan’s list of monumental film achievements, but it’s also one of the best war films I’ve ever seen. From frame one to the moment Hans Zimmer’s mournful score cues the end credits, Dunkirk is a supremely harrowing accomplishment.

At a lean and decidedly mean 106 minutes, Dunkirk is one of Nolan’s shortest films (over an hour shorter than 2014’s Interstellar), and Nolan makes every minute count. From the very opening, I felt as if I was there alongside the soldiers, and when the first bullet pierced the silence, I felt a jolt of adrenaline and fear. That terror is present for almost the entire running time, overwhelming in its unrelenting verisimilitude.

The eerily visceral sound design is instrumental in the terror for both the audience and the men trying to escape; the banshee-like howl of the enemy planes as they slowly get closer and louder is almost numbing in the encroaching dread. For the men on the ground, the sound of those planes is death; all that matters is getting out of the way in time before the bombs drop. For the limited Royal Air Force fighters as embodied by Farrier (an electric Tom Hardy) and Collins (the unflappably likable Jack Lowden), it’s an unforgiving challenge of out-manoeuvring and out-witting their German counterparts in the skies above the sea. The aerial sequences are nothing less than staggering; the ways in which cinematographer Hoyte van Hoytema captures the various, swooping angles of these planes as they duel across the breath-takingly vast panorama leaves the mind in utter disbelief, and the suspense is nerve-shredding. The use of real WW2-era vehicles (both air and sea, and including some used in the actual Dunkirk evacuations) only makes it that much easier to become mentally and physically entrenched in the situation, and again the impact of the bullets being fired and colliding against both the Allied and German aircraft comes with a resounding and merciless force.

Soldiers Tommy (Fionn Whitehead), Gibson (Aneurin Bernard) and Alex (Harry Styles) embody the men urgently trying to get off the beach. From the almost-nauseating apprehension of the opening scene, we immediately understand their drive to get out by any means necessary, and that investment is there throughout the run-time. We don’t know much about these characters, but I think that any way of giving these characters ‘moments’, like sitting down and talking or showing their worried families at home, would puncture the increasingly wrought bubble of unease that Nolan has so carefully and expertly crafted here. These are men fleeing to survive at any cost, and you feel that through Nolan’s faultless story-telling, the remarkably vital technical values and the focussed potency of the actors. Out of those on land, Styles is a stand-out, shedding his pop-star persona and essaying this role with skilled nuance. Whitehead and Bernard are both strong, while Kenneth Branagh and James D’Arcy also bring stressed poise and presence to their roles as Commander Bolton and Colonel Winant respectively, the highest-ranking men on the beach trying to get as many of their soldiers off the beach as possible. On the sea, Mr. Dawson (Mark Rylance), his son Peter (Tom Glynn-Carney) and their hand George (Barry Keoghan) venture towards the battle to help as many soldiers as possible. Rylance delivers perhaps the film’s most powerful performance as a man so motivated by his convictions that he’s willing to do anything to extricate all the men he can. Glynn-Carney is solid, while Barry Keoghan delivers a heartfelt portrayal which lends the film a touching poignancy. Cillian Murphy also does typically excellent work as a ‘shivering soldier’ the boat crew rescue on their way to Dunkirk, showing the raw distress of someone suffering from the effects of war.

The way in which Nolan presents these story threads is unconventional for a war film, but it works for several reasons. The first is that it adds a decisively Nolan-esque stamp to a genre which has been explored multiple times; the theme of time is one which plays a significant part in most of Nolan’s filmography, and that’s the case here once again. The second is that it amplifies the confusion of the soldiers fighting for survival and the fortitude of those coming to their aid, giving each of the individual strands perspective and purpose; the ticking clock prevalent in the critically intoxicating score from Zimmer (with contributions from both Lorne Balfe and Benjamin Wallfisch) confronts the theme of mortality with immeasurable urgency. Secondly, through Lee Smith’s extraordinary editing, the ways in which these individual narratives are welded together only enhances the tautness of the story-telling, lending each vista an interweaving power which serves to magnify the epic scope whilst giving the intimate moments even more weight.

From van Hoytema’s earthy yet gorgeous lensing to the piercingly compelling sound design, from the snare-drum tight editing to the flawless performances across the board, Dunkirk stuns with how meticulously it plunges the viewer into this terrifying part of history. I haven’t even mentioned the supremely pain-staking production design by Nathan Crowley or the exemplary costume design by Jeffrey Kurland, which add to the realism and therefore anxious fervour. The thousands of real-life extras and the use of practical effects wherever possible only further implement the frightening punch of the situation; I’ve discussed the breath-taking aerial battles, but the assaults on the sea are just as hair-raising. Seeing real ships being sunk with real extras clambering in and around them is incredible, with the lack of evident CGI only enhancing the anguish of those soldiers. And again, the camera angles are astonishing as we follow men scrambling across the shifting surfaces and clinging to whatever they can.  

With Dunkirk, Nolan has delivered a consummately masterful piece of cinematic audacity. Few war films have immersed the audience into the fearfulness of conflict with the same exactitude, and Nolan’s commitment to detail and using as little CGI as possible aids immensely. As has been highlighted in much of the advertisements, Nolan chose to shoot this film with IMAX cameras. And, as far as formats go, I couldn’t recommend seeing Dunkirk in IMAX highly enough. The film is designed to be seen on the biggest possible screen with the best possible sound system. The raptness of the experience is stunning, augmenting every resounding crack of a bullet and every striking image with greater visual and aural depth. Nolan’s verve as a director makes it worth paying the extra money for the IMAX experience. And that’s the best way to describe Dunkirk; an experience, one of innate force and impact. Nolan, his cast and crew pay stalwart tribute to the survivors, the fallen and heroes of the event, and Dunkirk is nothing less than an ascendant triumph.

Final Rating: 5 out of 5  

War for the Planet of the Apes

As Caesar solemnly proclaimed at the end of Dawn, ‘war has already begun’. Now the pay-off to that portent of doom has arrived in War for the Planet of the Apes.

We pick up two years after the conclusion of Dawn. Caesar (portrayed once again through motion-capture performance by Andy Serkis) and his colony of apes have been fighting to survive the violent assaults of the human forces led by the merciless Colonel McCullough (Woody Harrelson). After a vicious skirmish, Caesar decides to end the fight once and for all. As he and his comrades Maurice (Karin Konoval), Luca (Michael Adamthwaite) and Rocket (Terry Notary) approach their goal, Caesar must contemplate the best way to protect his kind whilst also trying not to succumb to the darkness brewing within…

If you were to believe the marketing for War for the Planet of the Apes, you might go into the cinema expecting an epic war film. Well, for the first and last 15 minutes, that’s exactly what you get. Director/co-writer Matt Reeves and his technical crew craft some masterful, edge-of-the-seat battles which showcase the requisite fire-power for a summer blockbuster whilst also remaining coherently choreographed and never losing sight of the high stakes at hand. However, the rest of the film is an entirely different beast. War for the Planet of the Apes is a bleak, beautiful and gut-wrenching character study which uses its near-peerless technological poise to tell a thematically riveting and intensely moving tale.

It also doesn’t hurt that, in his third go-round in the role of Caesar, Andy Serkis deserves not only one of the most powerful performances of the year thus far, but one of the most accomplished turns of his career thus far. That’s not to say that the other cast members don’t deserve praise. Harrelson’s unrepentantly intense work makes the Colonel a chillingly striking foe, a man who would appear downright demonic if not for his twistedly understandable motivations. Notary and Adamthwaite are both superb as Caesar’s comrades, while Konoval is once again magnetically lovable and wise as Maurice. Ty Olssen delivers noteworthy work as Red, a gorilla who has an intriguing role in the human-ape conflict. New to the series, Amiah Miller is wonderfully sweet as a human child the apes find on their journey and Steve Zahn is a charming, quirky delight as ‘Bad Ape’, a lonely ape discovered by the group. The introduction of Miller’s character and ‘Bad Ape’ brings much-needed warmth and humour to a film which has plenty of darkness brewing in its heart, much like Caesar. And, circling back to Serkis, he flat-out owns this film. This prequel/reboot trilogy is ultimately Caesar’s story, and Serkis has been spectacular from the very beginning. However, he raises the bar here yet again for motion-capture performance. There are scenes where Serkis’ emotional power had me on the verge of tears. We have never seen the character this conflicted, and we feel all of the emotions through Serkis’ incredible expressiveness and raw reactions. The physicality brought to the roles by the motion-capture actors is exceptional, and Serkis brings a world-weary strength and determination to Caesar which marks him as a great leader with an edge. Serkis’ portrayal here is nothing short of faultless, staggeringly powerful to the point where he and the character meld together. Regardless of whether he receives the much-deserved award consideration, Serkis still delivers some of the best work that any actor is likely to give this year.

As much as the actors deserve a multitude of superlatives, the same should be said of the sensational animators and VFX artists who make these apes look so damn real. It’s the smaller details which impress the most, from the prominent blood vessel in an eye or the water-drenched fur of one ape glistening in the moonlight. The various individuals working on the apes have done something truly game-changing here. These don’t feel like constructs; they feel present in a way which only a few other CGI characters ever have, which is critical for the film in allowing the audience to successfully connect with them on an emotional level. As far as VFX go, it also doesn’t hurt that the digital implementations made to Michael Seresin’s breath-taking cinematography all feel rich and organic in adding further depth to the post-apocalyptic world on display.

Director Matt Reeves and his co-writer Mark Bomback aren’t afraid to explore some disturbing ideas here, and as such this is easily the grimmest entry in a trilogy which was never that light-hearted to begin with. The film pushes its rating (12A in the UK, PG-13 in the US) to the limit, but in doing so, it makes the tension more palpable and the threat more vicious. Reeves’ direction is confident and patient enough to allow the film’s themes to breathe and percolate throughout, while maintaining a purposeful pace (courtesy of unhurried yet constantly attentive editing from William Hoy and Stan Halfas) which never lets the menace dissipate. What’s more, Reeves proves that he knows how to capture some breath-taking imagery. Whether in a thunderous and fire-ridden ambush or a peaceful moment in the snow under a tree with blooming flowers, Reeves and Seresin make this a film of profound visual power and texture. Reeves and Bomback also tell a captivating story, one which works to great effect as both a final chapter in a trilogy and as its own tale. While there are ties back to Rise of the Planet of the Apes and over-arching themes and scenery (not to mention forged emotional connections from prior films which become pivotal in how the characters and events evolve here), the story here is clearly laid out in the opening act before progressing in ways which are not always expected and yet constantly enthralling. What’s more, War ties into the original 1968 Planet of the Apes beautifully with many clever nods, with one particular move being downright inspired.

Guided by an elegantly bittersweet and haunting score from Michael Giacchino which might rank amongst the finest of his work, War for the Planet of the Apes delivers an unapologetically intimate finale to the trilogy. I’ve read many online complaints that, for a film with ‘war’ in the title, there really isn’t much war. Well, to counter that, I’d say that not all war is gun-fire and flying fists. Wars can be both physical and psychological, taking the fight to the enemy by force or by challenging the enemy with your beliefs in simple yet charged conversation. Wars can be both external and internal, looking for someone to battle whilst becoming aware of the monster inside that you might have to confront with just as much ferocity. One of War’s greatest achievements is in exploring the depravity which is borne from a desperate conflict, a disconnected drive for victory which can corrupt your moral compass even as you tell yourself that your worst actions support your best hopes. To find this level of committed thoughtfulness in a summer blockbuster is a rarity, and War for the Planet of the Apes staggers with its unrelenting courage and depth. There are only a few moments where the thought-process can be found lacking, some smaller moments where things seem to fall into place too easily or conveniently. But I found those moments to be rare and, on top of that, there are two things I contemplate as both a critic and a film-goer; can I find a viable explanation for events and does my emotional investment allow me to overlook those where I can’t? Given how much intense dread I felt while watching those ‘too-easy’ moments, fearing that they could just as easily become ‘too-bad’ scenarios, I’m willing to accept them as very minor missteps. 

War for the Planet of the Apes is a sensational conclusion to one of the most surprisingly excellent trilogies in recent memory, a film which isn’t afraid to choose a quiet character moment over a loud action set-piece. Sure, those are present and they’re handled terrifically, but as the final scene plays out with richly poignant closure, you realise that the action has always been but a piece of what makes this trilogy so powerful. Everyone involved from Reeves to every single crew member (as well as Rise director Rupert Wyatt, who started this trilogy on a strong note) deserves immense credit, but what really makes this trilogy stick is the characters, both through the stunningly organic visual effects and through the unerringly compelling performances. And at the head of the pack is both Serkis and Caesar, a combination of performance and character which will go down as one of the most magnificently captivating accomplishments in film for quite some time. For that alone, the film earns high praise. For that and everything else surrounding it, I feel that War for the Planet of the Apes earns my highest praise and recommendation.  

Final Rating: 5 out of 5

Baby Driver

There’s a certain buzz you have after watching a great film, an electric feeling of having seen something so vibrant and indelible that it feels like something you’ll cherish for a long time and which makes many other films pale in comparison. I was awash in that feeling after walking out of Edgar Wright’s latest film, Baby Driver.

Baby (Ansel Elgort) is a getaway driver working for crime boss Doc (Kevin Spacey). While Doc continually switches his teams of bank robbers including criminals like Darlin’ (Elza Gonzalez), Buddy (Jon Hamm) and Griff (Jon Bernthal), Baby is so good at driving that Doc has kept him on for every job. An accident from Baby’s past left him suffering from tinnitus, meaning that he almost constantly plays music to drown out the painful “hum in the drum”; in, fact, he’s so reliant on music that he times both his getaway driving and his normal life to the songs he’s listening to. His life changes significantly when he meets Deborah (Lily James), a girl with just as great a love for music. Baby and Deborah immediately hit it off, but any hopes of a romantic future are put in peril by Baby’s continuing involvement with Doc and a new threat in Bats (Jamie Foxx), a psychopathic criminal who takes instant issue with Baby.

Baby Driver is a film which strives on its musical soundtrack, with many sequences often edited to fit in with the songs being played. Happily, every song is chosen perfectly; from the very beginning, where The Jon Spencer Blues Explosion’s Bellbottoms both elevates the wonderful charm and exhilaration of proceedings, the musical selections feel inspired and wildly cool. Perhaps the most ingenious use of a song here is that of Barry White’s Never, Never Gonna Give You Up; the introduction of the song, and the scene in which it is played, gives the song a completely unexpected context which really works for the events on display. As you can tell from the pictured ticket, it’s been a while since I saw Baby Driver, but I purchased the soundtrack as soon as I could after the showing and I’ve been listening to it almost non-stop ever since.

While there are some dialogue scenes where the music takes a back-seat, it’s always there riding shotgun during the action sequences. These action sequences are some of the most edge-of-the-seat affairs to have graced the screen this year. Aided by outstanding practical stunts (there appeared to be very little CGI used, and if any was used, I didn’t notice it for a second) and the fluid verve of Bill Pope’s cinematography, every action set-piece is a marvel to behold. The contents of the action is nothing we haven’t seen before, but as presented both visually and aurally, it’s a dazzling musical blast of creative camerawork and magnificent, rat-a-tat editing courtesy of Jonathan Amos and Paul Machliss. For those looking for a thrill-ride, the action here is stellar and puts many other films with larger budgets to shame.

As well as the skill invested in every beat, the action in Baby Driver simply wouldn’t be as enthralling without the great characters that are involved. As Baby, Ansel Elgort makes a compelling bid for film stardom. Firstly, the guy has the ‘look’; from his first scene, he has undeniable screen presence. But, more so than that, he’s able to suggest so much without saying anything. Baby can just sit idly, and yet you get the feeling he’s always assessing and contemplating his surroundings, whether it be the music or the criminals he often accompanies. Elgort never plays it too cool for school, though; there’s always a warmth and effortless likeability to him that makes Baby a character you can easily root for, not to mention a vulnerability which adds extra humanity and intrigue. Baby’s romance with Deborah is the heart of the film, and the chemistry between Elgort and James simply lights up the screen. James is a beautiful screen presence in every way possible; her smile is heart-melting, and she makes Deborah such a gorgeously magnetic presence that it’s no surprise Baby falls for her. The conversations between the two show a longing for love and a life far away, and I found that connection to be portrayed beautifully. The supporting cast here is nothing short of superb. Kevin Spacey, one of my favourite actors, sinks his teeth into the role of Doc with clear relish. This is the kind of role Spacey aces, one laced with a wicked sense of humour and a no-nonsense menace, and ace it Spacey does. What’s more, the relationship between Baby and Doc has a surprising undercurrent which only lends their interactions more dimension and human interest. As criminal couple Buddy and Darling, Jon Hamm and Elza Gonzalez are both terrific. While I haven’t seen much for Gonzalez before, it’s safe to say that I’m excited to see what she does next after her work here. Darling is a character who knows how to use her sultriness to her advantage, and Gonzalez excellently plays that ‘femme fatale’ element of the character. But Gonzalez also adds shades of caring and grit which make her so much more than eye candy. Hamm likewise lends layers to Buddy which make him much more than he initially appears. While Hamm can do charismatic in his sleep, he also portrays Buddy as someone who has reserves of both compassion and rage. When those burst to the surface, Hamm delivers a gleefully against-type turn which is electrifying to watch. Against-type could also apply to Jamie Foxx; while Foxx’s natural charm is present here, he delivers it in such slithery style that there’s almost uncomfortable tension every time Bats is present. This character is easily one of the nastiest Foxx has ever portrayed, and he revels in the edgy ruthlessness. You’re never sure how events will play out when Bats is involved, and Foxx’s unsettling presence personifies that uneasiness with great assurance. The unexpected depth and uncertainty in the relationships between characters is one of Baby Driver’s biggest strengths, and only helps to make the narrative more invigorating. Jon Bernthal, CJ Jones, Lanny Joon, Paul Williams and Flea of Red Hot Chilli Peppers fame all do strong work in smaller roles, making memorable impressions in often limited screen time.  

The main person to thank for such a compelling narrative is writer-director Edgar Wright. Out of his previous cinematic writer-director credits (2004’s Shaun of the Dead, 2007’s Hot Fuzz, 2010’s Scott Pilgrim Vs. The World and 2013’s The World’s End), I’ve loved them all without fail. However, Baby Driver may be my new favourite film of his. Wright brings his usual vitality and keen wit for dialogue (every character, even the minor ones, gets smart, hilarious and magnetically entertaining dialogue), but he feels like he’s honed his skills more as a director. That’s not just true for the incredible action, but also for the sheer style on display here. The dynamic colours, the great camera work, the command of the musical soundtrack… Every breath-taking moment of Baby Driver feels like an escalation of Wright’s craft. Baby Driver feels fittingly like a mix-tape of different genres without any of them taking away from the impact of the others. Comedy, action, thriller, musical, romance… The film blends all genres near-faultlessly to create a sensation all its own. Wright’s writing and direction are effortless; proceedings often have a Tarantino-esque style and tension, but there’s no denying that this is Wright’s voice shining through every step of the way. No writer-director working today possesses the same energetic panache as Wright, and I can’t wait to see what he does next.

Simply put, Baby Driver is a cinematic thrill-ride. While there are some fantastical elements at play here, the film still feels grounded enough that the stakes are intensely real. The Atlanta location and practical stunts add further authenticity to events. The magnificently fleet-footed cinematography and editing result in the film being paced to perfection; every scene feels like it’s building to something, and when the frantic final third kicks into high gear, all that build-up is paid off beautifully. Every cast member delivers top-notch work which is in perfect step with the material. Orchestrating every crunching car swerve and every spot-on musical choice with a pronounced mastery, Edgar Wright has cemented his place as one of the stand-out film-makers of his generation. At the heart of the film is the hopeful, longing connection between Baby and Deborah, two people looking for an escape from the lives they’re trapped in. A love letter to the excitement of unadulterated cinema, Baby Driver is a shining gem which will likely be remembered and loved for years to come.

Final Rating: 5 out of 5