The Wild Robot (2024)

 "I do not have the programming to be a mother."

"No one does. We just make it up."

Little Miss Llamastrangler and I toddled off to the cinema so very pleasingly nearby to watch this film today, and a good time was had by both nine year old and forty-seven year old, the main thing. It is, of course, quite the time-jerker. but it's also interesting in more than the obviousways.

The quote sums up the main subtext, of course: the conceit of a robot accidentally ending up as mother to a little gosling allows it to be a metaphor for the reality of parenting- there's n manual, every child is different and not what the books say, you do a lot of improvising and hoping for the best.

And yet... for all the anthromorphism of robots and animals here, the humans, decadent in their robotised sci-fi society, are not shown as "people". We see them only as a decadent other, surrendering their agency to the robots who live their lives for them. For slavery- and that's what this is- is fundamentally decadent. history shows us this. Slave societies have no further reason to advance, or progress. Sooner or later, they will be out-competed.

Yet the animals of the island are free... and they do progress. To them, the robot is not a slave but a beloved friend and member of their community. And so they seem to slowly learn to live together and forswear rugged, predatory individualism.

But, pretension aside, this is a wonderfully animated, richly emotional film... and yes, I cried when she told him that she loved him. Wonderful stuff.

Valkyrie (2008)

“We have to show the world that not all of us are like him.”

This is an extremely exciting, entertaining and dramatic film full of tension and suspense as (in spite of inevitably knowing that the plot doesn’t succeed) we follow through the workings of the plot to assassinate Hitler in July 1944 by Count Claus Von Stauffenberg, Ludwig Beck and various other members of the German (in many cases Prussian) conservative establishment who feel that Hitler and Nazism have gone too far.

And the result is gripping. This is a film that had me on the edge of the seat. In a sense it could hardly have been otherwise, as the historical events are pretty bloody cinematic in the first place. But the whole thing is well executed. Yes, Tom Cruise is pretty wooden, but there’s a magnificent cast of mainly British character actors, with Bill Nighy standing out in particular, but we also get Kenneth Branagh, Terence Stamp, Eddie Izzard in a straight role, Danny Webb, Ian McNiece, Tom Hollander and more. As a Hollywood war film with loads of suspense the film certainly succeeds.

And yet... does the film not whitewash Von Stauffenberg, Beck and the other members of the plot? Historians seem to disagree on Von Stauffenberg’s views- was he an anti-Semite but one who felt that the Holocsust was going too far? He was certainly no liberal, or democrat; he believed in German dominance over Poland; and he wanted a Germany with its 1914 borders plus Germany and the Sudetenland. This is, perhaps, the best we could have expected given where the Overton window was in Nazi Germany, but it’s a shame these shades of grey were washed over and the plotters were portrayed simply as heroes. They deserve respect and remembrance for what they did, but they fought for Nazi Germany. I think I shall let Roger Bartlett from The Great Escape have the last word here:

“Look, sir, you talk about the High Command and the Luftwaffe, and then you talk about the Gestapo and the SS. To me, they're the same! We're fighting the bloody lot! There's only one way to put it, sir: they are the common enemies of everyone who believes in freedom. If the High Command didn't approve of Hitler, then why didn't they throw him out?”

The July 1944 plot was too little, too late.

Shaun of the Dead (2004)

“I’ve got to do a wee first.”

It’s hard to write objectively about a film you’ve seen as many times as I’ve seen this one. I saw it at the pictures back in the day and make no bones about the fact that I love everything about it. It’s funny, it’s brilliant and I’m two years younger than Shaun; this is my generation.

Obviously the whole thing is a tribute to George Romero, with zombies standing for both consumerism and the autopilot nature of the rat race; several times Shaun gets up and gives a zombie-like yawn, and in the background of the early scenes there are many instances of blatant zombie behaviour that look normal in the context of the morning commute. This is at once very funny and making an effective point. This sort of thing punctuates the film.

But of course this is a comedy, and a very good one, the first of Edgar Wright’s trilogy featuring Simon Pegg and Nick Frost and the last one of the three that I’ve blogged. It’s not so long, this being 2004, since Spaced, so it’s good that Jessica Hynes makes an appearance and indeed is the hero of another film- a nice touch; Shaun and co don’t save the world; other people do. They just want safety,  comfort and a pint until this all blows over.

The British TV comedy cast is uniformly brilliant, and both Pegg and Frost are superb. Kate Ashfield deserves praise for her performance as Kate; the straight role is often underappreciated in a comedy. There’s lots of visual comedy for which Wright deserves much credit. And the script is bloody genius- I love the moment when they’re choosing what records to throw at the zombie. And, of course, there’s the heartwarming ending. I’ve seen this film about half a dozen times and, yes, I will see it several times more.

Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest (2006)

"This is a jar of dirt."

Sometimes conventional wisdom is correct and sequels are a bit rubbish. This isn't the worst film ever made (that would be There's Something About Mary), but it's a bit pants. 

It's too damn long, for a start. But this film, unlike the last, is utterly devoid of charm, relying on special effects and spectacle at the expense of charismatic characters or a decently structured script. The previous film had all of these faults to an extent, but this time they are all much worse. So much so, in fact, that even Johnny Depp can't save the film.

So, is there anything interesting to say about a film that offers very little but the worst of Jerry Bruckheimer bangs and noises? I suppose the vaguely racist scenes with the tribe on Tortuga are slightly entertaining. And we have a mythology fleshed out for Davy Jones and the Flying Dutchman, albeit one with very little basis in actual folklore. At least the kraken scenes look good.

But nothing can save this film; even Jack's death is muted in its impact due to the general rubbishness. Worse still, the film ends by threatening a sequel. God help us...

Hot Fuzz (2007)

“Well, I see you’ve arrested the whole village.”

Obviously I love this film. That won’t surprise you; I’m exactly the sort of person who would. I’m a huge fan of Simon Pegg, Nick Frost and Edgar Wright, I loved Spaced, and I’ve seen enough action films to get the metatextual nods. Plus, more generally, I’m a geek.

I’ve been in more than my share of sleepy English villages like the one in this film- pretty, genuinely nice, but also rather stultifyingly conservative (and, indeed, generally Conservative) and not good for one’s privacy what with all the gossip. Still, I may prefer cities these days (though I actually live in a village at the mo, albeit not one like this), but I remember the relaxed attitude to underage drinking back when I was a lad. Halcyon days. Still, I can’t really quibble with the film’s broad suggestion that there’s something potentially rather dark lying beneath the close-knit conformity of village life. And this is a perfect depiction of this sort of village, so much so that I can even forgive the use of The Kinks’ The Village Green Preservation Society.

The main thing is, though, that this is a brilliant comedy, and Simon Pegg puts in a typically superb performance as Nick Angel, the perfect cop who annoys everyone with his smartass ways but slowly and gradually lightens up a bit. It’s very noticeable that this isn’t the sort of part you’d usually associate with Pegg; he’s a much more versatile actor than one might assume.

Pegg aside, Nick Frost is also excellent, albeit in the sort of role he usually plays; Timothy Dalton twirls his moustache gleefully while also attempting a West Country accent, and there are roles for such British comedy luminaries as (deep breath) Steve Coogan, Bill Nighy, Bill Bailey (whose character is at one point seen reading Iain Banks’ excellently weird and suitably dark and rural The Wasp Factory!!!), Jim Broadbent, etc. For a geeky actor spotter like me this is Heaven indeed.

The conceit of this film is, of course, to take the tropes of the Hollywood buddy buddy cop movie and transplant them to a leafy little village in the West Country, which cannot fail to be funny. The climax to the film absolutely delivers on this score, and throws in a weird cowled cult into the bargain. We get a very, very funny angle on the cliché that is the montage (see the next blog post!!!) and scenes that look uncannily like Operation Wolf (late ‘80s shoot ‘em up game, for all you non-thirtysomethings out there).

See Hot Fuzz. It’s well good.

Doctor Who: Vincent and the Doctor

“The way I see it, every life is a pile of good things and bad things. The good things don’t always soften the bad things. But, vice versa, the bad things don’t necessarily spoil the good things. Or make them unimportant.”

Very awkward to review, this one. Tony Curran is magnificent, as are the regulars, and indeed Bill Nighy. It’s brilliantly made and I can admire the construction of the script hugely. It’s clearly moved a lot of people. I want to like it a lot more than I do, but I feel awkwardly equivocal about it, as I do a lot of post- Four Weddings and a Funeral Richard Curtis stuff. Well-constructed this may be, but the emotional heart of it all just misfires for me.

The cinematography (is that an appropriate tern for television?) is unremittingly fantastic, though. There’s nothing like a few famous paintings on which to base things for us to get some absolutely astounding scenes. From the opening in the Provencal (well, Croatian) fields of wheat, to the café, to the evocation of “Starlight on the Rhone, to Vincent’s use of a certain famous chair to beat back the monster, this episode looks gorgeous and amazing.

The first thirty minutes are just a little dull, though. It looks great and it’s well-performed but there’s little in the way of action or dramatic oomph, nor is there any particularly clever or subtle quiet moment. It’s fun to hear the Mummerset accents of Provence, but much of the build-up feels like a re-run of The Shakespeare Code, with Amy making similar jokes about paintings as the earlier Doctor did about plays. This starts out as rather celebrity-historical-by-numbers. Oh, and Vincent Van Gogh died less than two months after this is set, and would not have had both ears. Probably reasons not to show that, though…

This all pretty much pays off once we see Van Gogh’s first depressive episode, though; weeping on his bed, he just wants the Doctor and Amy to go away and leave him alone. And the words “I know how it will end. And it will not end well”, have a horrible depth to them. Suddenly, the script and Curran are evoking real despair.

It’s right that we see this, but it’s equally right that we should see only a glimpse; Curran’s performance is subtle and admirable, portraying Van Gogh’s depression while still allowing him to be likeable. There’s a balance to be struck here in portraying serious mental illness in a programme watched by children and it’s struck perfectly.

There’s comedy, too: the Doctor’s impatience as they wait for the Krafayis, “I had an excellent, if smelly, godmother”- but there’s tragedy for Amy, too, though she remembers nothing. The Doctor’s been strangely nice to her of late, and Van Gogh can “hear the song” of her sadness, which causes her to cry real tears even though she can’t remember their cause. Her bond with Van Gogh is interesting; he seems to be genuinely besotted and is brave for her sake. She’s “not the marrying kind”, though.

It’s as well we see only glimpses of the Krafayis in the church; it has some slight Myrka-like tendencies. It would be churlish to dwell on this, though. It’s a genuinely scary moment, and it’s great that the brave Vincent should both save the day and feel real remorse at accidentally killing a frightened, blind creature. This creates a genuine bond between the three of them, and the subsequent scene on the grass is wonderful.

The final sequence- in which the Doctor and Amy take Vincent to the future, he’s overwhelmed by a wonderful speech from Dr Black about what a great artist he is, but upon returning he still takes his own life- just doesn’t work for me, though. It’s not the whole “hang on, aren’t they trying to change history” thing: I think there’s more than enough artistic justification here. It’s just that I really, really don’t like having my emotions manipulated in a crude way by montages overlaid by music which tells me how to feel, least of all some bloody landfill indie rubbish like Athlete! I don’t like it in Spielberg, and I don’t like it in Richard Curtis. To me, using this sort of sentimental schmaltz to convey deep emotion is distasteful. And it’s didactic; I like to feel emotions naturally, not have them dictated to me. And that’s what really alienates me. It’s all very well-constructed, and the Doctor’s speech about good things and bad things is amazing, but it does nothing for me.

So, this looks really great, is very well-performed indeed, has fantastic dialogue, and its handling of difficult themes for an audience including many children is genuinely brilliant, but the script fails in its emotional mission for the same sort of reason as, well, Love Actually. Still, a very high 4/5.