Starring: Gene Hackman, Denzel Washington
Director: Alan Scott
Rating: ***
The fact that the Cold War is well and truly over has not completely dissipated the menace of nuclear weapons from the minds of the general population (and rightly so). Alan Scott's latest film comes close to effectively exploiting the dread of total annihilation, but the resulting product somehow doesn't quite deliver the goods. Like a ski resort that pumps in artificial snow for the benefit of expectant visitors, Crimson Tide offers a good time on the slopes, but lacks the adrenalin-producing punch that only real - and therefore dangerously unpredictable - circumstances can offer.
The bad guys in the film are Russians alright, but are manufactured out of the recently fragmented Soviet states. Rebel forces have overtaken a patch of territory that includes a nuclear missile base in the western portions of the country, and rumours are rife that they have accessed the launch codes and are ready to push the button.
This token setup is mercifully swift, and puts Denzel Washington onboard the USS Alabama, a nuclear submarine captained by Gene Hackman. It is a classic case of Old Guard vs New Kid on the Block, and the impending threat of having to carry out their assignment - thus instigating a true holocaust - causes tensions to simmer from day one. As resentments build and tempers flare, the action is heating up from the outside as well, and before you can say Captain Queeg, the Captain and his Executive Officer are squaring off, dividing the crew against itself, and having a mini-war of their own.
Among the few but crucial saving graces of Crimson Tide are the well-paced action and the fact the two opposing factions within the submarine are not painted in black and white. Both officers are true military men and only want what is right; it is where their consciences stem from that causes the rift in the chain of command. Neither one is wrong, exactly, but neither one will budge, and the stakes are as high as they come.
Lt Hunter (Washington) refuses to complete the launch procedure due to a broken transmission that might indicate the orders to blow the Russians to kingdom come have been aborted, whereas the his captain feels it is his duty to America to carry out the original order.
The situation is further complicated by the fact that the vessel is under attack by an enemy sub and cannot surface to clarify the last transmission, giving Director Alan Scott ample opportunity to exercise his talent for building tension and moving the story along at a remarkably fast rate without losing the humanity of the dilemmas facing the crew of the Alabama. But it's never quite edge-of-your-seat material, as the menace lacks that essential element of truthfulness - again, the main flaw lies in the basic premise of the film.
Ultimately, it is Hackman and Washington's performances that save Crimson Tide from complete mediocrity - the pacing and characterisation alone could not have possibly kept it afloat on it's own without these two talented actors battling it out in style.
BRAVEHEART
Starring: Mel Gibson, Sophie Marceau, Patrick McGoohan
Director: Mel Gibson
Rating: **
Braveheart is a perfect example of the best of intentions gone awry. All the key ingredients for a fine film are present here - an inspirational story of a true-to-life hero, an obviously enormous budget, a solid cast of fresh faces, and a historical setting that inflames the imagination. Enter Mel Gibson.
His transition from grungy free spirit who took the world by storm, a la Mad Max, to slick sell-out film star has been a gradual one, but Braveheart is the final nail in the coffin. Forget the uniquely manic and unforgettable character from the Lethal Weapon series, forget his admirable stab at Hamlet; Gibson held the reins during the making of Braveheart, and the result is nigh on unforgivable.
While Gibson claims that "it was worth every minute" of the year it took to complete Braveheart, viewers may find they resent every minute spent watching this indulgent, three-hour tribute to Scottish hero William Wallace.
Admittedly the politics of early 13th Century Britain are intriguing, and occasionally the fine cast is given a chance to effectively play out the inhuman games of cat-and-mouse instigated by Edward I his attempt to conquer the Scots. But the tension is dissolved repeatedly but Gibson's indulgence in too many pauses to establish True Love (read: slow motion and extended closeups) and True Violence (again, slow motion and extended closeups) ultimately deflate the narrative. What remains is a moderately interesting slice of history punctuated by frequent intervals of bosom-heaving and skull-bashing.
Set in the mud-caked folds of the highlands, Gibson's film does have considerable visual impact. The harsh and dismal terrain makes for some very resilient inhabitants, and Braveheart makes the most of these characters, exploiting their rebel nature to the fullest.
Scotland is still free but it's own royal families remained divided in their loyalties, leaving the country vulnerable to Edward's invading armies. Edward (played with understated evil by Patrick McGoohan) is not above using his homosexual son Edward II (Peter Hanly) and his French bride Princess Isabella (Sophie Marceau) as dispensable puppets in his bid to take Scotland, and had the film spent more time on these dramatic themes and less on the violence, Braveheart would have been a very interesting film indeed. In fact, taking more of the focus off of Wallace would have done the film a world of good, for though he may be an important figure in history, it is as much the circumstances that made him as the man himself that make the story truly interesting.
His reunion with his childhood love turns out to be simply a vehicle, beginning a chain of violence that recurs throughout Braveheart to a disconcerting degree. These battle scenes, at first compelling and intense, become progressively more graphic and gory, displaying more blood and eviscera than an all-night marathon of the Halloween series. Throughout it all, Gibson struts, shouts, and makes the odd joke, never quite reaching the heart of his character but making quite a noise in the trying. Though Gibson's heart may have been in the right place, his enthusiasm and long-term exposure to commercialism turns Braveheart into an over-produced and underwritten epic that fails to do justice to a heart-wrenching true story of freedom, honour, and justice.
TANKGIRL
Starring Lori Petty, Malcolm McDowell, Ice-T
Director: Rachel Talalay
Rating: *
Tankgirl deserves points for attempting the nigh-impossible - translating a comic strip to a live-action movie. Unfortunately, there is little else to redeem the film, save for its unrelentingly fast pace high spirits. It's 2033 AD, and the Earth suffers a from drastic lack of water, thanks to one well-aimed meteor that found its mark. The Golden Gate bridge lies buried in dunes, the land is a parched wasteland, and it's inhabitants have degenerated for the most part into self-sufficient packs of parched desperados.
And the hippest of them all is Rebecca Buck, AKA Tank Girl (Lori Petty)- a gun totin', hard-lovin' desert punk princess who dresses in post-apocalyptic hip garb and tosses off one-liners in the face of mortal danger. Evading the grasp of the ominous Water and Power Company, Tankgirl and her mob manage to eke out a sufficiently cool existence by filching water from W & P, a situation that ends in disaster and leaves Tankgirl stranded... and pissed off. Tracking down Kesslee (Malcolm Mcdowell), the sociopathic and thoroughly despicable head of W&P is foremost on her mind, and nothing - including torture, forced labour, and a pack of mutant kangaroo men - gets in the way of Tankgirl when her mind is made up.
This film tries not to take itself too seriously, but the violence, frenzied pace and overdone performance of McDowell leave it hovering in a no-man's land, as if the comic strip element was abandoned somewhere along the way in favor of Mad Max angst and fervour, cropping up again when Tankgirl and her mousy-turned-feisty cohort, Jet Girl (Naomi Watts) enter the den of the mutant Rippers.
These half-men, half-roo killers are frankly best forgotten, and even better - never seen at all. Resembling rejects from the Gremlin films and forced to speak unspeakable dialogue, the fact that they are based on cartoon characters is no excuse - they are not scary and they are definitely not funny. Predictably, Tankgirl and Co blast their way to a showdown with Kesslee, leaving a trail of good times and mangled wreckage behind. The live action alternates with cartoon interludes set to ear-scouring, bad-assed music, so Tankgirl may find a home with the younger crowd, particularly of the rebel sort. It's a film that is far too violent and dirty-mouthed for pre-teens, and is most likely classed as "for mature audiences only" - a classic case of Catch 22, as Tankgirl will hold no charms whatsoever for anyone over 21.
CARO DIARIO (Dear Diary)
Starring: Nanni Moretti,
Director: Nanni Moretti
Rating: ***
A film that sneaks up quietly and completely overtakes the unsuspecting viewer, Caro Diario hold a rare and thoughtful charm that is a tribute to subtlety and intelligence.
Shot in three parts, the film begins as Moretti tools through the streets of Rome on his Vespa, meandering through near-deserted streets in the languid quiet of an Italian summer. His narration, at first sparse and erratic, is filled in by extended musical interludes that reflect his varying moods as he observes his city from atop his motorbike. His recollections of the idealistic '60's merge with poignant memories of Pasolini's assassination and his wry observations on modern architecture, creating a gentle portrait of the inner world of a man reaching middle age and not quite knowing how he feels about it. The pace quickens, moving into the most amusing segment of the film, Islands, in which Moretti journeys with a friend who, after thirty years without television, becomes hooked on The Bold and the Beautiful almost overnight, and flees the most beautiful and remote of the islands where they have come to work because there is no TV.
Moretti spends the latter half of this middle segment satirising parents of the 90's, sending up over-indulgent parents, all of whom have only one child because the children run the show. "Each year we ask Pietro if he wants a baby brother or sister," says one parent, "but he keeps saying No, so what can we do?" Children who are allowed to answer the telephone also fall prey to Moretti's wry insights, and the trials of trying to get an adult to pick up the phone are hilarious, if painfully familiar.
But Moretti's serious side is ever-present, and the final sequence, Doctors, finally reveals a side of life feared by all and faced (in real life) by Moretti: cancer. His battle with Hodgkinson's Disease is not so much the focus here as is the chain of events that led to the diagnosis. As the camera pans the dozens of mis- prescribed cures and potions, he recounts his visits to specialist after specialist, all of whom offered different reasons for his illness and none of whom got it right. Moretti's resentment never boils over onscreen, but the anger is there, and even the humorous portions of Doctors have the edgy quality of a man at the end of his tether.
Watching Caro Diario is rather like eavedropping on someone who has nothing to hide; Moretti's unmannered style and laconic wit blend well with his casual direction, making it all seem effortlessly real. It's a gentle gem of a film for this very reason, and though bound to go unappreciated by the general public, Caro Diario should not be missed.
ROB ROY
Director: Michael Caton-Jones
Starring: Liam Neeson, Jessica Lange, John Hurt
Now Playing at: Hoyts Cinema Centre, Balwyn Cinemas, and various theatre
complexes throughout Melbourne
Rating: **
It is difficult, if not impossible, for the heavy hand of the producers of big-budget films to paint (or is that taint?) the screen with anything but overblown and obvious storylines aimed at the emotional buttons of the lowest common denominator of audiences. Recent releases such as Forrest Gump, Disclosure, and even the well-intentioned but over-garnished Nell have suffered from the producers stepping in and simplifying the characterisation to comic book level, as if they believe modern movie-goers are incapable of picking up on the subtitles for themselves.
It's not a new argument, and it certainly seems a fruitless one, but this problem becomes all the more obvious when films like Rob Roy manage to rise above this tripe-saturated market - if only just. Suffering from a case of Mills and Boon stylisation and rife with bodice ripperisms, Rob Roy is still a fairly gripping tale, thanks to some stunning cinematography and the outstanding performances of Jessica Lange, John Hurt, and Tim Roth. Filmed entirely on location, the breathtaking scenery of the Scottish highlands sets the stage for the adaptation of the true story of Rob Roy MacGregor, heroic patriarch of the dwindling MacGregor clan whose sense of honour led him to defy the Marquis of Montrose in a celtic-style David and Goliath tale that has become an enduring legend.
As the film's namesake, Liam Neeson does a fair job of bringing the 18th-century hero back to life. The script allows little depth to his character, however, other than shunting him from one scene to another as he bares first his soul to his wife, Mary (Jessica Lange), then his honour and his body in rapid succession as a setup for his confrontation with the Marquis of Montrose (played with deliciously restrained wickedness by John Hurt).
Enter the true villain, and the saving grace of the film: Tim Roth as the utterly despicable Archibald Cunniham, the best-written character in Rob Roy. His wheedling foppishness, at first laughable, is revealed to be a mere front for a truly sociopathic nature as well as a rat-cunning mind and a deadly hand with the sword. Once Cunningham joins the action, the tense business agreement between the Marquis and Rob Roy is shattered, deteriorating into a complex series of crosses and double-crosses, with the honourable Rob Roy playing wronged pawn as his wife and kin are drawn into the deadly game.
Nearly every trick in the cinematic book is employed to keep the viewer gasping and guessing, a feat that results in a case of emotional overkill and erodes the authenticity so carefully established by the production design and the skilled acting of the cast. Still, if you don't mind your haggis a bit overdone, Rob Roy is a ripping yarn indeed, serving up Highland adventure of epic proportions.
HOTEL SORRENTO
Director: Richard Franklin
Starring: Caroline Goodall, Caroline Gillmer, Tara Morice, Joan Plowright
Now playing at: Village City Centre and various theatre complexes throughout
Melbourne
Rating: **
This screen adaptation of Melbourne author Hannie Rayson's play of the same name has some shining moments that reveal director Richard Franklin's talent for bringing out the warmth and naturalness of his stable of actors. Though the film does suffer from some unrealistic dialogue and technically stilted camera work, most audiences will probably find it more moving and accessible than most of the big-budget films on the market at the moment.
Set in the Victorian coastal town of Sorrento, the film brings together three sisters whose lives have briefly come together again under circumstances that force them to examine the unspoken sibling rivalry present in the bonds of love that tie them together.
The catalyst for this familial soul-searching is middle sister Meg's (Caroline Goodall) best-selling novel, Melancholy, a thinly disguised autobiography which reveals a bit more of the Moynihan sisters' lives than Hilary (beautifully acted by Caroline Gillmer) or the younger Pippa (Tara Morice) would care to bare. Both the book and the reunion - which also brings together the males in the Moynihan women's lives - are marked with events that serve to change the fabric of the family, for better or worse but most certainly (and in some cases tragically) forever.
Providing a gentle counterpoint to the Moynihan's troubles is Marge Morrisey, played with warmth and subtlety by veteran actress Joan Plowright. She softens the bitterness felt by Hilary - the one sister who never left Sorrento - and adds an element of gentle resignation and humour to some of the harsher circumstances that rise to meet the Moynihans during what may turn out to be their last summer in Sorrento.
Even the generally fine performances, however, cannot overcome some awkward moments in Hotel Sorrento; too often the dialogue resembles bits of clever dinner party conversations strung together, making the characters seem two-dimensional and utterly lacking sufficient development to justify some of their behavior. Technically the film suffers as well - at times the camera seems to lurch around the set, giving the film an overly-staged feel and distracting the viewer to the point of irritation.
In it's favour, Hotel Sorrento does not opt out for easy resolutions or over-obvious conclusions to the Moynihan's problems. The trouble with the film is that the people and the problems never quite seem real, making Hotel Sorrento a warm but skewed film that never quite settles within the bounds of reality.
EVERYNIGHT... EVERYNIGHT
Director: Alkinos Tsilimidos
Starring: David Field, Bill Hunter, Robert Morgan
Opens May 11 at: The George Cinemas
Rating: ***
This first-time effort by Melbourne director Alkinos Tsilimidos is shocking, horrifically surreal, and very, very good. Shot entirely in black-and-white, Everynight... Everynight chronicles the brutality of Pentridge prison's H-division inmates - the no-hope offenders banished to one of the most inhumane confinement facilities in Australia which only last year shut its doors forever. Based on actual characters and true-to-life events, the film focuses on Dale (David Field), an inmate tossed in H-Division while still on remand. His treatment at the hands of the prison guards is the sort of story one doesn't want to believe can happen in a civilised western country, but unfortunately Ray Mooney - who wrote the original stageplay - was there himself, and although the film is fictionalised, the violence, humiliation and neglect were all used as methods of controlling the behavior of the real-life H-Division inmates. The fact that the film was shot in the now-closed H-Division itself helps to steep the film in this sense of reality, and it's virtually impossible not to feel a creeping shiver run up the spine as the story unfolds. Dale's last attempt to save his crumbling sanity by "resigning from the human race" sparks a chain of events that actually did occur in 1972. The results of these events - which run before the credits at the end of the film - further reflect the tragic price paid for "justice" by some individuals - all in the name of law and order..
While a difficult film to watch at times, Everynight... Everynight is not graphically brutal; rather it implies menace and the threat of explosive violence with it's lack of colour, eerily lit closeups, and the intense, masterful acting of the cast. Tsilimidos has successfully given his first film a texture and intelligence that eludes many an established director, and it will be worth keeping an eye out for him in the future.
DEADLY ADVICE
Director: Mandie Fletcher
Starring: Jane Horrocks, Brenda Fricker, Imelda Staunton
Now playing at: Lumiere Cinema and Trakk Cinema
Rating: **
This black comedy takes on the notion of serial killing in a bemused and very English fashion, delivering a few laughs but none of the belly-sort one would expect from the director of the brilliantly funny Black Adder series. The meek and limp Jodie (Jane Horrocks) cannot overcome the hold her dreadful mother, Iris (Brenda Fricker) has over her bland and colourless life. Her attempts at a love affair with the good Dr Ted (Jonathan Pryce), her desire to join her sister Beth (Imelda Staunton) in a bit of fun and even a rebellious lunchtime sherry at the local pub are all thwarted by the meddlings of her mum-from-hell... until Jodie has some unlikely but enthusiastically helpful visitors from the past - namely a gaggle of assorted famous murderers from the past who arrive on the scene to give a little "deadly advice" to solve Jodie's problems. You can imagine what sort of advice you'd get from a pack of poisoners, bathtub drowners and axe-murderers and sure enough, when mum goes too far one more time, she's pushing up daisies in no time flat.
Things get sticky when Beth arrives home, but since she too despised Iris she agrees to go along for the time being, carting home a male stripper from Bristol as a sort of a celebration and inviting him to stay a while. Jealousies erupt, threats are made, and soon Jodie finds she needs more advice from her new- found mentors, pulling her into a tangle that is quite amusing at times but never quite breaks the barrier between funny and the truly hilarious.
Fletcher's direction is adroit and clever, but ultimately the film suffers from a case of chronically average writing which allows the actors little room to move within their roles. Still, there are a few giggles lurking about with the murderers in Deadly Advice, and fans of English-style comedy might find it worth a look.
