We Need To Talk (And Talk And Talk) About Oscar

Why am I doing this? There was once a time I would dazzle all those around me as I applied an almost precognitive talent for award prediction to numerous hastily organized Oscar ballots. Oh how I was feted, carried high on the shoulders of friends and enemies alike, given ambrosial liquor to sup on from jewel-encrusted golden goblets. They were glorious times, my friends, and those efforts were the stuff of legend. But since making my predictions via this blog, my hit rate has dropped into the low fuckalls. Once Shades of Caruso was described as “usually fairly reliable“. Well, not in terms of Oscar predictions. So why put myself through this ordeal again? Why humiliate myself when my former predictive talents as a modern-day Cassandra have suddenly and inexplicably morphed into those of just some random lass called Sandra?

To be honest it’s only to justify having sat through the combined clusterfuck-a-thon of War Horse, The Iron Lady and Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close; three movies so wretched they should be investigated as hate crimes against my very soul. And yet here they are, given baffling nominational attention from the various elders who constitute the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences. The anguish caused by this triumvirate of terribleness, and their baffling inclusion on the Oscar shortlist, is the fuel that powered this epic post, so if you get bored to extinction by the time you get halfway down the page, blame Stephen Daldry, Eric Roth, Abi Morgan, Phyllida Lloyd, Lee Hall and Richard Curtis (Spielberg gets a free pass for Tintin, which was aceballs).

Performance by an Actor in a Leading Role

Who Will Win: George Clooney – The Descendants

Jean Dujardin may have been winning awards by smiling a smile that honestly looks like it could melt through steel like Superman’s heat vision, but I think the Academy members are ready to give Gorgeous George the big prize at last, mostly just to get it out of the way. There are worse things that could happen; though I’d be more than happy to see the thoroughly handsome Dujardin win and do a little tap-dance or something, Clooney was the best thing about The Descendants (other than Shailene Woodley, who was also very good). It’s odd to look at the mostly quiet work he does here, the way he balances light comedy and heavy tragedy, and think back to the way his performances were merely an amalgamation of irksome tics when he was on E.R. and not-massively-popular action extravaganza The Peacemaker. Now look at him. He’s really very good. And still handsome. An Oscar win here is no bad thing.

Who Should Win: Gary Oldman – Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy

But of these five candidates, surely it’s Oldman’s prize. He’s survived the fallow years caused — I’m sure — by appearances in two Luc Besson movies with only Airforce One and Lost in Space to separate them, and has proved cynics (such as myself) wrong time and again. By now even his shaky appearances in crap like Red Riding Hood are usually worth watching. It’s enough to make me think he will take over from Sir Anthony Hopkins in the Endlessly-Entertaining-Actor-Shaped extra chamber in my heart once the great Welshman has sadly entered the Odinsleep. Tinker Tailor was an impeccably performed movie; picking out individual acting highlights is hard, but pretty much every moment Oldman is onscreen, like a shade sucking all of the light from the room, it’s as if everyone else has faded into the awful period-appropriate wallpaper. His voicework in Kung Fu Panda 2 was good too. We take Oldman for granted; time we stopped doing that.

Who Should Have Been Nominated: Michael Fassbender – Shame

Maybe it’s a good thing Fassbender didn’t get nominated. The outrage generated by that stupid-but-expected decision will power his career for a while longer as he comes to work on projects to be filed under the heading True Quality, as opposed to the gilded, establishment-approved version of art represented by the Academy’s often-mystifying choices. It also means that the inevitable dirty tricks campaign could dig up some pretty unpleasant stuff about Fassbender, and at this point in his career (or at any point, really) that’s not a good thing. Best he sits this one out until a year when a very driven producer doesn’t have a dog in this fight.

Performance by an Actor in a Supporting Role

Who Will Win: Christopher Plummer – Beginners

Beginners was a good enough movie, one that made it okay to like Ewan McGregor again, but without the storming performance from Plummer I think it would be forgotten fairly quickly. His energy levels here are remarkable, and make an average movie unmissable. Hopefully people won’t go on about how he’s bound to win because he plays a terminally ill gay man who finds a new lease of life in his final years, thus completing some kind of Oscar-Worthiness Bingo card. He deserves to win because he deserves to win. It’s that simple.

Who Should Win: Christopher Plummer – Beginners

Though a spanner was thrown into the works when Max Von Sydow got nominated as “The Renter” in Stephen Daldry and Eric Roth’s monumentally awful Extremely Insensitive and Incredibly Corny. The great man has been acting for nearly 700 years now and has never won an Oscar, so surely he’s due one. Hell, make it a retroactive award for The Virgin Spring. Despite this, and despite the fact that he’s the only good thing to come of Daldry and Roth’s wretched miasma of relentless sentiment, it has to be Plummer who wins this. He’s been cranking out great performances for the past few years (he should’ve won for The Insider, to be honest), and if he gets this, he’ll have a BEGOT (not just your Emmy, Grammy, Oscar and Tony quadfecta, but also a Bafta as well). If you don’t want to root for such an achievement, please fill out the order form below to request a new, fully-functional soul.

Who Should Have Been Nominated: Sir Ben Kingsley – Hugo

Lots of folks complained about the numerous snubs in this nomination list, with much of the justifiable frustration directed at the miserable lack of Albert Brooks, but I’ve only seen a couple of people point out that leaving Sir Ben off the list for his superb work in Hugo was an egregious omission. Maybe Best Supporting Actor is the wrong category, as Uncle Georges is arguably the protagonist of this movie, but there’s more room for him here than in the crowded Best Actor slot (ahem Jonah Hill ahem). Sir Ben is in the same category as Sir Anthony Hopkins; he’s usually the most interesting thing in whatever movie he appears in, and Hugo is no exception. If it works at all, it’s because of his skill in bringing to life the sweet-and-sour mystery at the heart of the film.

Performance by an Actress in a Leading Role

Who Will Win: Meryl Streep – The Iron Lady

A horrible inevitability has descended upon this category. Many are talking up the relative lack of Oscars Meryl has received despite being in the list of top twenty most awesome people in the history of the world, and I’m sure many people are aggrieved that she didn’t win anything for her impersonation of Dan Aykroyd in Julie and Julia, but even so, the thought of her playing a real live actual person is just too much. The Academy must have written this winner on their scorecards without even seeing the movie. She truly embodied the pluck and lovability of Margaret Thatcher completely (i.e. it was correctly completely absent from the movie). Plus there was a lot of make-up on her face. The assorted critics of the Daily Telegraph plumped for Viola Davis en masse, but I still think this is Meryl’s to win.

Who Should Win: Michelle Williams – My Week With Marilyn

And it would be the worst crime of the night. Don’t get me wrong; I genuinely adore Meryl Streep. She might even be my favourite actor, if not vying for joint fave with Jeff Bridges. Nevertheless, the obnoxious fractured editing by Phyllida Lloyd — which is obviously meant to mirror Mrs. Thatcher’s current unfortunate medical situation — means the movie never settles down long enough for us to have any idea what Meryl’s performance is like. As I tweeted after the godawful mess finally came to a close, it feels like a 100 minute trailer for a 17-hour-long movie, mostly made up of stock footage. It makes W.E. look like a coherent film, which I thought would be impossible. The glimpses we get of Meryl in excelsis suggest she did good work but I honestly can’t attest to that. So I say it should have gone to Michelle Williams. Cheeky of me, as I haven’t seen My Week With Marilyn; I’m burned out on such things thanks to The King’s Speech. But MW was unfortunate to have given a performance of such brilliance in Blue Valentine in the same year that Natalie Portman brought her A-game in Black Swan. Williams deserves to unlock the Reversal of Fortune Achievement for that. (1000 Gamerpoints)

Who Should Have Been Nominated: Tilda Swinton – We Need To Talk About Kevin

What else do I need to say? Excise the horrible cartoonish display by the otherwise excellent Jessica Chastain in The Help, and put Tilda in where she belongs. She’s said she’s happy to avoid going to the ceremony, but what about her fans, who look forward too seeing her appear in white dresses before being described as “androgynous” by every fashion expert? An essential part of the award season is now sadly missing. Plus she was phenomenal in WNTTAK. That too.

Performance by an Actress in a Supporting Role

Who Will Win: Octavia Spencer – The Help

This was a movie that made me very uncomfortable, much as The Blind Side did a couple of years ago, but at least The Help had great performances (and not-so-great, Jessica Chastain and Bryce Dallas Howard) on its side. Octavia Spencer managed to out-act Viola Davis without having to do that snotty nose thing Davis does in so many movies; Davis even managed it again in Extremely Long and Incredibly Offensive, probably because she knew that disappointing us by not featuring it would have ruined hundreds of Extremely Twee and Incredibly Pretentious drinking games. This is another of the most predictable wins of the ceremony, and one I back almost 100%.

Who Should Win: Melissa McCarthy – Bridesmaids

Except that it would be so nice for a comedic performance to get an Oscar nod, and Melissa McCarthy’s much-loved work is the most likely possibility for many a year. Admittedly if she won over the other candidates there’s a possibility that in time she would be given the same treatment Marisa Tomei got when she won for My Cousin Vinny, but as someone who likes Marisa Tomei and My Cousin Vinny, and who has done a complete 180° on McCarthy now that I know she has more about her than was shown in Gilmore Girls (shudder), I’d back this win also. Not gonna happen, though.

Who Should Have Been Nominated: Charlotte Gainsbourg – Melancholia

Fair to say that Uncle Lars’ Bedtime For Hitler storytelling at the Cannes Film Festival sank any chance that either Kirsten Dunst and Charlotte Gainsbourg would get a nomination. I suspect the screeners for this sat unwatched on many an Academy member’s coffee table. A pity, as it was one of the highlights of the year. Gainsbourg was just as good in Antichrist, but maybe this kind of soul-baring work isn’t ever going to find favour with the assorted old white men who vote for these things. “Why, she’s just got the vapours,” they would say into their mug of restorative potions made from the tears of discarded Hollywood dreamers. “Just buy her an ironing board and be done with it.” And that, my friends, is why the Oscars mean jack shit.

Best Animated Feature Film of the Year

What Will Win: Rango

Ha ha ha ha ha ha Cars 2 didn’t get nominated ha ha ha ha ha. Reap the merchandising whirlwind, Pixar, and thanks for pissing on your legacy (until your next incredible film comes along and makes me forgive you for temporarily misplacing your soul). Anyway, Rango was the frontrunner over a year ago and nothing has changed since.

What Should Win: Rango

Seriously, why are we even talking about this? Rango‘s a masterpiece. End of.

What Should Have Been Nominated: The Adventures of Tintin: The Secret of the Unicorn

Of course, there was the amusing upset during the Golden Globes when Spielberg’s much-maligned performance-capture movie won the animation award, but then it didn’t get in here. There are lots of theories why, from “is it animation?” to “it’s not animation“, to “it wasn’t good enough”. Whatever the reason, its omission here is pretty bizarre, made all the worse by the nominations dropped into War Horse‘s trough. This vibrant, manic blast of imagination gets nothing while that risible failure gets a bunch of nods? Shocking. But it still wouldn’t deserve to win. Why? Because Rango. Like I just said a paragraph ago.

Achievement in Cinematography

Who Will Win: Robert Richardson – Hugo

I have a theory, for which I have absolutely no proof, that if the movie with the most nominations doesn’t win Best Picture, it will be given Best Cinematography as a consolation prize. The Artist might or might not not win many awards this year but I believe it’ll win Best Picture at the very least, which would leave Hugo wanting. As a result, I think Robert Richardson’s 3D cinematography will win out. Or Ludovic Bource will win for The Artist because he isn’t using that new-fangled technology? No, it’ll definitely be Richardson. Unless that lovely, clear, monochrome photography persuades the oldsters. ::is utterly undecided::

Who Should Win: Emmanuel Lubezki – The Tree of Life

If there is one word I could use to describe Malick’s meditation on cosmic gubbins and personal strife — other than pretentious, or powerful, or intricate, or unsubtle, or preposterous, or profound, or overlong, or ambitious, or breathtaking, etc. etc. — it would be luminous. Thanks to Emmanuel Lubezki’s work, this film glowed. It throbbed with the very life its titular tree is full of. Maybe it was just that we saw this on a good screen, brightly lit and digitally projected (a rarity nowadays), but it was so gloriously shot that I felt I was looking straight through a window into another world, or at least into the mind of Malick, and it was as beautiful a place as I had hoped.

Who Should Have Been Nominated: Sean Bobbitt – Shame

In the past Bobbitt filmed a lot of Ye Olde Worlde settings for some of the seemingly infinite number of period adaptations made by the BBC, so it must have been a nice change for him to capture the most memorable images of New York in recent memory. Not that that mattered to the Academy, who don’t care about his ability to paint the city with terrifying reds, soft golds, and rainy greys. All they think is, “But he pointed the camera at a dong”, and that’s your lot. Sorry Sean. Maybe some day you’ll make a movie set during the first quarter of the 20th Century and the Academy members will be falling out of their bath chairs to give you a nod. Fingers crossed, eh?

Achievement in Art Direction

Who Will Win: Laurence Bennett and Robert Gould - The Artist

It’s in these technical categories that the two love letters to silent cinema will fight their most fraught battles, where the majority winner will be decided. As a result it’s hard to deduct who will win using my usual scientific rigour. Instead I have to rely on guesswork, and the thought that last year the Weinsteins managed to strongarm the Academy into giving Tom Hooper — TOM HOOPER — the award for Best Director. I’m sure Harvey has been going door-to-door this year, telling more anecdotes about how clever he was to acquire the rights to this, buying bunches of grapes for the voters and promising to give them back-rubs and what-not. Even though half of my brain is convinced the voters will be more charmed by the charming charming super super charming charm of Hugo (an excellent read, that), I think Harvey’s carpet-bombing techniques will win again. Plus the art direction on The Artist was very nice.

Who Should Win: Dante Ferretti and Francesca Lo Schiavo - Hugo

That said, the art direction on Hugo was even better. Dante Ferretti’s collaborations with Scorsese are always a feast for the eyes and his interpretation of what a semi-fantastical Parisian railway station would look like — with toy shops, overstocked bookshops and clockwork labyrinths included — is some of the best work he’s done. Plus he’s on a roll, having won his last two nominations for Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street and The Aviator. So I could well be wrong here.

Who Should Have Been Nominated: Maria Djurkovic, Tom Brown and Zsuzsa Kismarty-Lechner – Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy

Friend-of-the-blog Beggar So’s Hat wisely noted that the shockingly grim production design of this was horribly snubbed. I hadn’t even noticed that. I think I tried to blot the miserable look of the film from my brain rather than be reminded once more of the horrors within. It made me think of my childhood, which now feels like it happened in the 50s and not the 70s like it actually was. It’s as if England was frozen in time for fifty years, and Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy was just a snapshot of that. Which is to say, Mr. Hat was right. The production design on TTSS was worthy of many awards, especially this one, but also Grimmest Evocation of the Cigarette-Smoke-Stained Dilapidation of 20th Century Britain.

Achievement in Costume Design

Who Will Win: Mark Bridges – The Artist

Again, it’s all down to who will be the overall winner. If it’s going to be The Artist I have to go all in and give it to Mr. Bridges…

Who Should Win: Sandy Powell – Hugo

…while thinking that Sandy Powell’s work is more deserving. By now I must seem like a guy who hated The Artist, but I didn’t. I adored it. Hugo was the movie that left me cold, even though it’s obviously a thing of great precision, as intricate and lovely as the clockwork contraptions that litter it. But all that effort from Scorsese was futilely expended trying to shift the enormous rock that is my heart, and it wasn’t going to work. ::hands in film buff card::

Who Should Have Been Nominated: Eiko Ishioka – Immortals

Nevertheless, that’s not as big a crime as neglecting Eiko Ishioka’s brain-maddening work which so dominated Tarsem’s latest empty trinket. It’s especially frustrating as the world is now bereft of her singular genius. Creating works of art for ill-received genre movies directed by someone with… shall we say, a questionable grasp of narrative… means her work wasn’t really seen enough. When we see Mirror, Mirror later this year, it’ll be a bittersweet experience. And not just because it’ll almost certainly be desperately boring crap. #Uncharitable

Best Documentary Feature

What Will Win: Paradise Lost 3: Purgatory

As usual I haven’t seen any documentaries this year, not even depressing ones about how the economy is about to explode with the force of a million megaprolapses, so I can’t really talk with any authority here, but I’d wager Joe Berlinger and Bruce Sinofsky will get the nod for campaigning successfully for the West Memphis Three. Unless the Academy is still mad at Berlinger for Blair Witch 2, which is understandable.

What Should Win: IDK SMDH

As I can’t say anything authoritative here, I’ll keep my fat mouth shut.

What Should Have Been Nominated: Tabloid

Yep, I didn’t even see Senna, the most critically acclaimed documentary of the year, but everyone I know who has seen it adores it. Nevertheless, I would’ve loved to have seen Errol Morris’ crazily entertaining Tabloid get some recognition. Perhaps because it’s so much fun it never stood a chance of getting any Oscar love; that old “comedy is too frivolous to be worthy of recognition” thing again. Which is a shame, because I’d say Tabloid has some pretty hefty points to make about news cycles, journalistic arrogance and human venality. It just also happens to be very amusing while it makes those points.

Best Documentary Short Subject

What Will Win: God Is The Bigger Elvis

Best Animated Short Film

What Will Win: La Luna

Best Live Action Short Film

What Will Win: The Shore

Okay, I’ll come clean. I haven’t got a clue about any of the nominees in any of the three categories clustered here, as was the case last year, so I’m just going to pick for the stupidest reasons. I just read about God Is The Bigger Elvis a few hours ago, La Luna because I like the name of the director (Enrico Casarosa), and The Shore because it’s made by Terry and Oorlagh George, and I always get annoyed that I confuse Terry George and Terry Southern even though their surnames and careers are completely different so I guess that’s an omen or something. Sorry to all of the nominees in these categories; I should give you respect, and instead I give you this excrement-soaked corsage. You deserve so much better.

Achievement in Film Editing

Who Will Win: Thelma Schoonmaker – Hugo

It’s arguable that Hugo was a bit slack, to be honest, and could have done with a bit of tidying up, but you’re a fool if you bet against Schoonmaker, who has won three of the six Academy Awards she has previously been nominated for (can you believe she didn’t win for Goodfellas? WT actual F?).

Who Should Win: Kirk Baxter and Angus Wall – The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo

As I said last year, David Fincher’s editing team on The Social Network did a fantastic job of wrestling a ton of footage and talking to the ground and making it work as a narrative. they’re here again with a movie that’s less talky but just as complex (if not more so) than that. Dragon Tattoo may not have blown my socks off the way Fincher’s best work does, but it’s a great thriller, perfectly paced and seemingly effortlessly compelling. Baxter and Wall deserve this win twice over now.

Who Should Have Been Nominated: Paul Hirsch – Mission Impossible: Ghost Protocol / Hank Corwin, Jay Rabinowitz, Daniel Rezende, Billy Weber and Mark Yoshikawa – The Tree of Life / Joe Bini – We Need To Talk About Kevin

Quick run through of my reasons here. 1) The best action movie of the year deserves a nod, especially when the action scenes are so clearly drawn and beautifully constructed. It was a joy to watch, and much of that was down to veteran Hirsch’s command of the AVID. 2) A team of five head editors wrestling with what was probably 65,000,000 miles of footage featuring kids running down alleys or Brad Pitt standing on a lawn, and in the end we get an impressionistic collage of mood and image as powerful as this? I may complain that Hugo was slack but any flabbiness here was probably intentional. The longueurs are as important as the moments of emotion, and the superb judgement of this team — and Malick — will probably become more apparent with each rewatch. 3) It’s as if Nicolas Roeg is making major motion pictures again, and Bini is as important as Lynne Ramsay in creating a fractured but exhaustingly scary like Kevin. Again, a major omission for this exceptional artistic accomplishment.

Best Foreign Language Film of the Year

What Will Win: A Separation

Of course the Academy has a talent for arsing this category up, which could be good news for Agnieszka Holland — I’d think of it as an award given in honour of her stunning Treme pilot; one of the best episodes of TV ever made – but honestly, how on earth could anything beat Asghar Farhadi’s magnificent family drama? I would’ve like to have seen it do a Crouching Tiger and get a Best Picture nomination as well, it’s that good (yes, Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon was nominated for both Best Foreign Language Film and Best Picture, a fact that seems to elude many professional Oscar prognosticators each year).

What Should Win: A Separation

Time spent thinking about this masterpiece since seeing it right at the end of last year has made it seem even more profound, even more exciting. I may not have seen any of the other films nominated here but still it seems only right that this wins.

What Should Have Been Nominated: The Skin I Live In

To be honest, though I enjoyed Pedro Almodovar’s macabre thriller, it still left me a little cold. I’m sure there’s some arcane reason why this wasn’t included (that’s usually the case; did Spain even offer it as a nominee?), but if that’s not the case then I guess its omission here is pretty surprising. Other than that, the majority of the foreign language movies I saw last year just weren’t good enough to warrant inclusion here. Even Peter Chan’s Wu Xia — a film which made it onto my best-of-2011 list — would seem out of place. The closest thing I can think of for inclusion would be Andrea Molaioli’s Il Gioiellino, the fictionalised dramatisation of the Parmalat fraud scandal, but even that’s too dry to really pass muster. ::shrug::

Achievement in Makeup

Who Will Win: Mark Coulier and J. Roy Helland – The Iron Lady

I almost feel like I’m saying this because it had the most make-up, mostly on Meryl’s chin for Thatcher’s later years…

Who Should Win: Mark Coulier and J. Roy Helland – The Iron Lady

…but as Daisyhellcakes said when we tried to stay awake during this possibly endless collision of stock footage and poorly shot comedic shenanigans, “That’s a really convincing wattle”. And she’s right. It’s a really convincing wattle.

Who Should Have Been Nominated: Contagion

The most startling physical transformation of the year was a digital effect; the enfeeblenising of Chris Evans in the first third of Captain America: The First Avenger is a baffling, seamless effect that convinces so completely that post-super-serum Evans looks somehow more wrong than the wimp. I’m tempted to say this should have been nominated just for the wicked Red Skull make-up on Hugo Weaving, but I think Contagion may be a more worthy nominee, for the nasty sweaty death pallor on the victims of MEV-1, Jude Law’s pasty face and rotten tooth, and one very fun autopsy scene.

Achievement in Music Written for Motion Pictures (Original Score)

Who Will Win: Howard Shore – Hugo

I can’t actually remember a single note of it, even though I’m a big fan of Mr. Shore (his score for A Dangerous Method was particularly lovely; he does his best work for Maestro Cronenberg), but I doubt either of Williams’ scores will win (vote splitting), and there’s the possibility that Kim Novak really does have some insider information about how the soundtrack to The Artist did something unspeakable and illegal to Bernard Hermann’s Vertigo score. That leaves Shore’s score.

Who Should Win: Alberto Iglesias - Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy

Of course, this wonderful score by Alberto Iglesias should be the frontrunner here for anyone who has ears. It’s an absolute corker, sinister and peppered with smokey-jazz moments; perfect for the film and powerful in its own right. And yes, I know this won’t be a consideration for the Academy, but the inclusion of this great, nerd-funky version of La Mer just shows how much care was put into the music. It’s such a great choice for the scene it accompanies that I did a joy-pirouette without leaving my super-comfy Odeon-Swiss-Cottage seat.

Who Should Have Been Nominated: Michael Giacchino – Super 8

My favourite soundtrack of last year was Cecile Corbel’s delicate score for Arrietty, but as the movie wasn’t released in the US until this year, it wasn’t eligible. I’d like to say Hans Zimmer’s score for Rango should’ve got in, but considering the fuss over Ludovic Bource’s The Artist soundtrack, Zimmer’s re-appropriation of The Blue Danube and Ride of the Valkyries — not to mention similarities with Carter Burwell’s Raising Arizona score — mean it’s better off out of it. Giacchino’s Super 8 score managed to conjure up memories of some of John Williams’ work with Spielberg while remaining recognisably his own work. It might not be the best thing he’s done, but it played an important part in conjuring up the air of nostalgia that made J.J. Abrams’ homage work.

Achievement in Music Written for Motion Pictures (Original Song)

What Will Win: Man or Muppet (Bret McKenzie) – The Muppets

I’ve not heard the Rio song, but is there any doubt?

What Should Win: Man or Muppet (Bret McKenzie) – The Muppets

It’s just what a musical number should be. It’s thematically relevant, perfectly judged on a tonal level, it signals a big plot moment, it’s full of clever lyrical tricks, and it’s a proper showstopping earworm. It brought the house down at the BFI a month ago and I reckon this happens everywhere this movie plays. Is this the most assured winner of the night?

What Should Have Been Nominated: Star Spangled Man (Alan Menken / David Zippel) – Captain America: The First Avenger

Still, the feeble number of nominees here means there’s no real reason why Menken and Zippel’s entertaining pastiche of WWII propaganda songs didn’t get a nod. It’s not as good as Bret McKenzie’s song, but it’s still a witty and catchy tune. I guess the Academy members didn’t want to be reminded of the war that took place during their middle age. Yeah, I went there!

Achievement in Sound Editing

Who Will Win: Richard Hymns and Gary Rydstrom – War Horse

It might be a load of old chuff but I think War Horse will get at least one Oscar just because Spielberg and the rest strained so damn hard to make something timeless and noble that I bet someone will feel sorry for him. That’s not to say the work of Hymns and Rydstrom isn’t worthy of an award. The movie has a wide array of excellent whinnies, clip-clops, and gunfire.

Who Should Win: Ren Klyce – The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo

Normally I’d pick Transformers: Dark of the Moon for two reasons: 1) to annoy everyone by continuing to not crap all over Bay’s carnage-laden doomfuck, and 2) because there were about one zillion sound effects in this movie, and I’m sure there was a small army of sound recorders trying to find the material for this movie’s sonic tapestry of boom. Nevertheless, I’ll pick Ren Klyce’s work on Fincher’s bleak midwinter tale for two different reasons: 1) I always tend to pick Ren Klyce because Ren Klyce is ace, and 2) the sound of Lisbeth Salander’s steel-toed boot clanging noisily against a very large metallic anus-seeking dildo has haunted me for two months. That counts for something.

Who Should Have Been Nominated: Oliver Tarney and Mark Taylor – Sherlock Holmes: A Game of Shadows

My two picks here (Nicholas Becker for Andrea Arnold’s glorious Wuthering Heights and Koji Kasamatsu for Arrietty) are again not eligible because of US release dates. Instead I’ll pick the team behind the sound effects in Sherlock Holmes: A Game of Shadows. There’s some lovely work done during the action scenes, but also the thrum of Victorian London is captured as well as in the first movie, which was also deserving of a nomination.

Achievement in Sound Mixing

Who Will Win: Tom Fleischman and John Midgley – Hugo

Big noisy setpieces in a train station where every individual, important noise is clearly picked out? It’s a lock.

Who Should Win: Greg P. Russell, Gary Summers, Jeffrey J. Haboush and Peter J. Devlin – Transformers: Dark of the Moon

The soundscapes of Michael Bay’s noisiest movies are widely loathed as merely a wash of explosions and screaming, but when blasted at with a good THX sound-system, it’s likely that the volume will deafen you to the amount of intricate work done here. It’s not just queueing up a bunch of banging and sticking it all in a blender; there’s more layering of sound than you’d think. Then again, I’ve always been a fan of percussion, so I’m more likely to enjoy an extended drum solo than the finely-picked notes of a symphony. Make of that what you will.

What Should Have Been Nominated: Peter Miller, Adam Kopald, J.R. Grubbs and Addison Teague - Rango

Among the many joys of this astounding triumph of animation is the lovely audio track, evoking the eerie silences of Sergio Leone’s classics while changing gears for some huge, complicated action scenes. Truly a feast for the ears as well as the eyes.

Achievement in Visual Effects

Who Will Win: Joe Letteri, Dan Lemmon, R. Christopher White and Daniel Barrett - Rise of the Planet of the Apes

I’m tempted to say Hugo will win this too, but the furore over Andy Serkis’ performance and the technology used to capture it means this might have a shot, as a sop to the campaigners.

Who Should Win: Scott Farrar, Scott Benza, Matthew Butler and John Frazier - Transformers: Dark of the Moon

Once more I’m picking complexity and logistical madness over subtlety or beauty, but the scale of the FX work in this movie is simply breathtaking. It’s also seamlessly integrated with reality; you’ll really believe Chicago had its arse kicked by robotic dickwads. The only caveat here is that they’re not really breaking new ground; we’ve seen this kind of thing before, just not on this scale. Nevertheless, my eyes boggled at the monumental mechanical madness, and I really appreciate that.

Who Should Have Been Nominated: Douglas Trumbull, Dan Glass, Peter and Chris Parks – The Tree of Life

What a lovely welcome back for the legendary Doug Trumbull; a snub by his peers that probably would have stung if he had even noticed them, bearing in mind he is a colossus who bestrides the discipline of visual effects and probably thinks Digital Domain is little more than an interesting ant-farm. Bear in mind, this is a man who, while everyone else in the FX business was learning how to use a mouse, was either working on IMAX and Showscan technologies or trying to fix the BP oil-spill. Does he need an Oscar? If the FX industry members of the Academy can’t find it in their hearts to give this visionary the award he deserves, he can get over the insignificant pain by inventing another world-changing doohickey. Trumbull does not need your baubles.

Adapted Screenplay

Who Will Win: Alexander Payne and Nat Faxon & Jim Rash – The Descendants

Hugo should win this considering the overwhelming critical praise for it in the US, but I have a feeling the sentimental Academy members will be more drawn to The Descendants, which is a very writerly movie with big dramatic beats, terminally ill people, confrontations that play out in unexpected ways, and speeches that run on for perhaps a bit too long. It also has a terrible voiceover in the first half of the movie that should make invalidate it, but I doubt that that’s a dealbreaker. Or maybe this is just wishful thinking because I want to see Dean Pelton win an Oscar? If so, can Magnitude come on stage for a celebratory “Pop pop!“?

Who Should Win: Bridget O’Connor & Peter Straughan – Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy

Much as I enjoyed Moneyball, mostly because Sorkin’s worst excesses were curtailed by the low-key performances and direction, I don’t think it’s the best script here. I also don’t think that honour belongs to The Ides of March; yet another Clooney / Heslov disappointment that feels four drafts away from completion. Surely Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy is the only logical choice here. It’s a labyrinth of words and actions and information but there’s emotion here, real aching pain. It’s a magnificent achievement.

Who Should Have Been Nominated: Christopher Hampton – A Dangerous Method

As is Christopher Hampton’s expansion of his play The Talking Cure. Its absorption and translation of the ideas and theories of Freud, Jung and Spielrein into dramatic forms is breathtaking, made all the more memorable for its puckish wit and satisfying emotional charge. Though I’d resigned myself to seeing this underrated movie get little Oscar love I held out hope for this screenplay as the sole nominee, but no. What a pity.

Original Screenplay

Who Will Win: Woody Allen – Midnight in Paris

Remember all those days ago when The Artist won the Bafta for best screenplay and amateur comedians and film critics said, “How can it win best screenplay when there’s no words in it duhhhhh duuuuuuh a-duuuuuhhhhhhh?” Well I guess that won’t happen here, but only because the truly sentimental choice is to give Woody another Oscar for his latest self-indulgent wallow in nostalgia. Usually that yearning for simpler times is a subtext to his usual light middle-class semi-intellectual drama, but here it’s right at the fore-front. Who was the Twitter wag who said that this movie was like Woody’s “Things I like” list made celluloid flesh? Because well done, that person, you got it in one.

Who Should Win: Asghar Farhadi – A Separation

That victory for a second-rate script would be a crime when Asghar Farhadi’s brilliantly constructed, humane, intelligent, complex, multi-faceted screenplay has also been given a nod. In a perfect world this would’ve been the only nominee. If ever anyone asks me what screenplay I would pick as an example of brilliant screenwriting, I’ll pick George Gallo’s script for Midnight Run. If they couldn’t find that, I’ll pick this.

Who Should Have Been Nominated: Kenneth Lonergan – Margaret / Scott Z. Burns – Contagion

That said, I would’ve liked it if Kenneth Lonergan had received any kind of recognition for his notorious movie, but I guess there was no chance of that happening with the lawsuits flying back and forth like flaming buzzards of doom. Also, we’ve not even seen the full movie; I long for the director’s cut of this challenging and audacious movie. I also would’ve liked it if Scott Z. Burns got nominated for Contagion, but that’s because I’m a big Scott Z. Burns fan and I think he’s great so there.

Achievement in Directing

Who Will Win: Martin Scorsese – Hugo

Okay, hear me out. Yes, I think The Artist will win Best Picture. Yes, I know that Michel Hazanavicius won the Director’s Guild Outstanding Directorial Achievement in Feature Film Award, and that’s usually a pretty reliable marker of who will win the Academy Award, but I think Scorsese has played a blinder here; making a homage to the birth of cinema, eoo-goog-alising one of the earliest pioneers of the medium, and passionately campaigning for the virtues of film preservation within the film itself. A pretty ballsy move, to turn a children’s movie into a two-hour lecture about archiving and storage technology. The Artist might be a love letter to silent cinema, but Hugo is a billet-doux attached to a heart-shaped box of chocolate cherries with a bit of sexy lingerie hidden under the crepe-paper tray. There’s no way the assorted dodecagenarians of the Academy will be able to resist giving Scorsese his second director’s gong for this.

Who Should Win: Terrence Malick – The Tree of Life

Even though I really loved The Artist (I did! Honest!), and thought Scorsese did a good job of methodically stripped the magic from his children’s film by the time the final reel arrived just so he could prove a point, this category belongs to Malick. Alexander Payne served up a curiously listless dramedy, and Woody Allen woke up for a little while; not really work worth lauding. But Malick’s bold vision was even more daring than his usual work, happily comparing the travails of a family to the beginning and end of life. What brass balls. It’s the best thing he’s done since Days of Heaven, and more than deserving of some Oscar love. If they don’t do it now, they’ll only regret it in future when he suddenly starts making action movies starring Channing Tatum (mark my words, this will happen).

Who Should Have Been Nominated: David Cronenberg – A Dangerous Method

The great man can’t win. When he makes a genre movie — albeit a genre movie with an intellectual ambition that dwarfs almost everything else around — clueless critics proclaim that he’s little more than a provocateur debasing his better instincts. When he makes a movie that’s sober and thought-provoking, everyone whines that there’s not enough parasites or inappropriate vaginal images in it. So when he makes something as crystalline as this, so perfectly hewn and formally precise, critics say it’s too dry. “It’s too dry,” they say, drawing attention to what they think is an excessive dryness. Seriously, that’s all anyone could say. Well bollocks to that. It’s exactly what it needs to be, and Cronenberg is the only filmmaker in the world smart enough to get that right. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again; one day critical opinion will swing back Cronenberg’s way. Sadly, not before voting ended.

Best Motion Picture of the Year

What Will Win: The Artist

Critical mass has been reached for The Artist. I don’t think anyone on the planet expects another movie to win, except Stephen Daldry, probably; a conclusion I’ve reached after enduring Extremely Bad And Just Generally Incredibly Incredibly Dire And Awful Jesus What A Stinker, which seems to have been directed by someone who has absolutely no self-awareness whatsoever. I was tempted to predict a Hugo surprise here, but I think we all know that’s not happening. Harvey Weinstein has been prowling the streets of Hollywood like a cross between Batman, Wilson Fisk and P.T. Barnum, pimping out that movie for all he’s worth. It’s a foregone conclusion.

What Should Win: The Artist

And I’m absolutely fine with that. Not just because it’s the best movie of the nine nominees, but because I still think so fondly of it a victory in this category would make my night. I’m sure in time the numerous haters will multiply like mogwai under a waterfall, but for now a big win would almost feel like an extension of the movie’s deliriously happy vibe. Like a 4D experience for its fans. Plus it’s a last chance to see Jean Dujardin charm us with another impromptu dance. Vous dansez comme un nuage enthousiaste, vous bel homme!

What Should Have Been Nominated: Take Shelter / A Dangerous Method

If that vile… vile… thing with the obnoxiously precious title can get nominated, then surely anything can. Two of my favourites of last year are more than good enough to get in here, usurping Daldry’s slimy ode to sub-sub-sub-sub-sub-sub-sub-McSweeney’s-style precocity and Spielberg’s admittedly hilarious and Dadaesque World War One comedy The Adventures of War Horse: The Siren-Centaur Hybrid of Death, not to mention The (Wonderful Way White People) Help(ed Those Relatively Unimportant Black Folks). Put these two brilliant movies in there, dammit, and why not add Fast Five while you’re at it. That movie was better than at least seven, arguably eight of the movies in that list, even if only for the moment when The Rock and Vin Diesel crash through a wall during a fight. Better than Malick’s dinosaurs, I reckon.

That”s enough making a fool of myself in front of the entire internet. See you on the other side of the award ceremony, and what will likely be a really cozy opening monologue from Billy Crystal featuring at least one — maybe five — jokes about the lacklustre box office takings of Mr. Saturday Night. Mazel tov!

Listmania ’11: Crew Contributions Of The Year

Ever more aware that this is taking way too long, I shall keep this short but sweet, and note that yes, I am indeed posting something while websites with far fewer hits than me (such as Wikipedia and Google) are protesting the evils of SOPA/PIPA with a blackout. Part of me feels like a scab crossing a picket line but then I think to myself no, I have to do this. I have to tell the world just how much I loved the costume design on Conan the Barbarian. The world needs this information. Without it, however would our civilisation cope? This is the kind of thing that the internet was invented for. Seriously! Tim Berners-Lee was just saying the other day how glad he was that he had the chance to read what I said about Green Lantern, though he seemed disappointed that I wasn’t as enthusiastic as he  was about Mark Strong’s interpretation of Sinestro.*

Besides, if Congress goes ahead with its plan to give itself the power to censor great swathes of the internet in order to prevent citizen activism during times of social strife which are probably around the corner… erm, I mean, combat the ev0l of piracy, obvs… then I’d better get this shit up now because most of this post is made up of publicity photos and clips from YouTube and I’ll have to “police” myself in future to make sure none of this stuff ever appears again. Thanks for ruining the best thing in the world, Overlords. Like you haven’t done enough damage already.

DOWN WITH SOPA! DOWN WITH PIPA!

* This is a lie. He wasn’t crazy about Strong really.

Best Director: David Cronenberg – A Dangerous Method

Honorable Mentions:

Andrea Arnold – Wuthering Heights

Steve McQueen – Shame

Lars Von Trier – Melancholia

Jeff Nichols – Take Shelter

Asghar Farhadi - A Separation

Best Directorial Debut: Joe Cornish – Attack The Block

Honorable Mention: Sean Durkin – Martha Marcy May Marlene

Best Screenplay: Asghar Farhadi – A Separation

Honorable Mentions:

Kenneth Lonergan – Margaret

Christopher Hampton – A Dangerous Method

Scott Z. Burns – Contagion

Bridget O’Connor / Peter Straughan - Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy

John Logan / Gore Verbinski / James Ward Byrkit – Rango

Best Cinematography: Emmanuel Lubezki – The Tree of Life

Honorable Mentions:

Robbie Ryan – Wuthering Heights

Anthony Dod Mantle - The Eagle

Sean Bobbitt – Shame

Amelia Vincent – Footloose

Rodrigo Prieto – Water For Elephants

Best Digital Photography: Roger Deakins – Rango

Best 3D Photography: Robert Richardson – Hugo

Best Editing: Paul Hirsch – Mission Impossible: Ghost Protocol

Best Soundtrack: Cécile Corbel – Arrietty

Honorable Mentions:

Hans Zimmer - Rango

Harry Escott – Shame

John Powell / Hans Zimmer – Kung Fu Panda 2

Cliff Martinez – Drive

Michael Giacchino – Super 8

Best Original Song: Star Spangled Man (Alan Menken / David Zippel) – Captain America: The First Avenger

Best Costume Design: Eiko Ishioka – Immortals

Honorable Mentions:

Alexandra Byrne – Thor

Wendy Partridge - Conan The Barbarian

Anna B. Sheppard - Captain America: The First Avenger

Paco Delgado / Jean Paul Gaultier – The Skin I Live In

Trish Summerville – The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo

Best Visual Effects: Digital Domain, ILM, Legend 3D and many many more - Transformers: Dark of the Moon

Honorable Mentions:

Modus FX, Tippett Studio, Scanline VFX and again, many more – Immortals

Prime Focus, Animal Logic, Pixomondo and… you know what I’m going to say – Sucker Punch

ILM, Hammerhead, Entity FX, and dear God, how many FX houses are there in the world? - I Am Number Four

Digital Domain, Buf Studios, Stereo D, etc. etc. etc. sorry guys – Thor

Douglas Trumbull, Prime Focus, Double Negative, but mostly hey check it out, it’s Doug Trumbull! – The Tree of Life

Best Sound Design: Nicolas Becker – Wuthering Heights

Honorable Mentions:

Erik Aahdahl / Ethan Van der Ryn – Transformers: Dark of the Moon

Koji Kasamatsu – Arrietty

Oliver Tarney / Mark Taylor – Sherlock Homes: A Game of Shadows

Ren Klyce - The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo

Peter Miller / Adam Kopald – J.R. Grubbs / Addison Teague – Rango

Best Production Design / Art Direction: Dante FerrettiHugo

Honorable Mentions:

Mark “Crash” McCreery – Rango

Bo Welch / Maya Shimoguchi – Thor

Chris August – Conan The Barbarian

Scott Chambliss / Christopher Burian-Mohr / Daniel T. Dorrance - Cowboys and Aliens

Tom Foden / Michele Laliberte - Immortals

Worst Director: Paul Johansson - Atlas Shrugged: Part I

Dishonorable Mentions:

Madonna – W.E.

Rob Marshall – Pirates of the Caribbean: On Stranger Tides

Lone Scherfig - One Day

Paul W.S. Anderson – The Three Musketeers

Ivan Reitman – No Strings Attached

Worst Screenplay: Madonna and Alex Keshishian – W.E.

Dishonorable Mentions:

John Aglioloro / Brian Patrick O’Toole – Atlas Shrugged Part I

David Nicholls – One Day

Elizabeth Meriweather / Michael Samonek - No Strings Attached

Jason Lew - Restless

Tom Hanks / Nia Vardalos – Larry Crowne

Worst Cinematography: Dion Beebe – Green Lantern

Dishonorable Mentions:

Hagen Bogdanski – W.E.

John Mathieson – X-Men: First Class

Masanobu Takayanagi – Warrior

Adriano Goldman – 360

Ross Berryman – Atlas Shrugged Part 1

Worst Editing: Danny Tull – W.E.

Still more to come even after all of this excessive listmaking. Hey, I can’t help it if I don’t get a chance to write for the rest of the year. There was a huge build-up of opinion inside me and this is the slow release, like air leaking out of a zeppelin.

Can Someone Please Buy Kenny Branagh A Spirit Level?

Apparently, according to professional troll and tired-shtick-purveyor Joe Queenan and mysteriously grouchy former colleague Stephen Evans,  British acting-giant Kenneth Branagh is suffering from terrible career-doldrums, and has seemingly consigned himself to the dumpster. They have a point. Once on track to becoming a national institution a la Emma Thompson and Stephen Fry, Branagh has gone from making a few energetic but clumsy Shakespeare adaptations (Henry V, Much Ado About Nothing), to the craziest reincarnation-murder-mystery imaginable (Dead Again).

From there he made what is unarguably the most deliriously awful adaptation of Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein (Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein), to a supporting role in a derided Nazi-riffic thriller with a pre-spoiled finale (Valkyrie), to what is surely, if his critics are to be believed, absolutely the worst thing that could happen to anyone; directing a massive-budget tentpole release at the start of summer, a huge logistical project which stands a good chance of making a shedload of money and is arguably the best thing he has made by a country mile, kicking off the blockbuster season with such a burst of surprisingly confident film-making, crowd-pleasing fun and franchise-ensuring success that he can basically write his own ticket for years to come. Won’t you join me in laughing at the dreadful hubristic failure of that poor loser Branagh?

Of course, there is a chance that it won’t actually make that much money; it has already opened in Australia where it was beaten at the box office by The Fast Five and The Furious Five. Audiences probably won’t recognise the character Thor, and many of them don’t know who Chris Hemsworth is unless they have a special ability to see through the obfuscatory lens flares in JJ Abrams’ Star Trek. However, the reviews are rightly positive and this could end up with great word-of-mouth. I await its US opening figures like a child waiting to see how high White Lines by Grandmaster Flash and Melle Mel will appear in the UK top 40 on a Sunday afternoon in 1983 (true story).

N.B. I would wait to see what the UK figures are like but the damn thing is opening in the same week as some wedding or other; I think Jordan’s marrying Andrew Marr or something. Means it might be worth my while to go see it again on Friday, hopefully in a cinema that is only sparsely attended and where my enjoyment won’t be interrupted by numerous incontinent men, wailing vomity babies, and important people checking for the arrival of important emails on their super-bright phones; three hypothetical irritants that in no way pissed me off this morning, no not at all.

So why is Thor a success, above and beyond any financial concerns? Mostly because it continues Marvel Studios’ streak of good-to-great superhero adaptations, and yes, in that list I do indeed place Iron Man 2 despite the considerable backlash against it for not being explodey enough or whatever the hell crime it committed against humanity. As I said in my end of year poll last year, that loose structure and air of genial knowingness was something that I considered a plus, and having Hott Sam Rockwell along for the ride was even better news.

The complaints about it being nothing more than a set-up for the wider Marvel Film Universe (MFU) concern me not a jot, as that’s something that I want to see, and get actively excited about. I didn’t find it annoying in the slightest, and the same goes for Thor, even though the major Avengers set-up in the middle of the movie – featuring a damp Jeremy Renner on a crane getting cramp in his fingers – looks like it was filmed last week and spliced in during the drive to the big factory where they replicate all of the prints (I don’t know how these things work; I assume it’s done using a big hard-drive and a shitload of memory sticks).

Thor isn’t as smart-arse as Iron Man 2, but then it doesn’t feature Robert Downey Jr., and I doubt Branagh has a sarcastic bone in his body. He’s hyper-sincere, which turns out to be exactly the kind of thing Thor needs. The previous Marvel movies featured a couple of big set-pieces but were mostly conversation-and-character-based; being a bit more of an universe-spanning epic about “gods”, Thor’s big chats take place in gargantuan golden rooms, vast crumbling ice cities, and in a town built (especially for the movie) on the side of a hill looking down at a desert. It has something the other movies lacked; a sense of grandeur.

That’s helped by the use of 3D – a smarter choice than expected, as there are hardly ever more than two planes in the movie; the foreground where everyone is talking, and something else about a mile away. It’s a nifty post-production conversion, and does add a bit to the sense of scale, though the majority of the heavy lifting is done by the amazing FX guys at Buf Compagnie and Digital Domain, and eye-massaging work from ace production designer Bo Welch (who also directed The Cat in the Hat, but let’s just forget about that for today).

Which is not to say Thor isn’t funny. One of the best things about the Marvel Film Universe is that fun is not a dirty word. I’m quite happy to watch a “gritty” superhero tale if the tone fits the character and the movie is good, but too many filmmakers are not willing to expend an effort in making the characters likeable, or their adventures appealing. Iron Man was a perfect opening act for the Marvel Film Universe for a lot of reasons, but most importantly for making sure the audience is having a good time, which has thankfully become the template for the other movies.

I suspect that was originally the plan with The Incredible Hulk but sadly Edward Norton is a weirdly alienating actor at the best of times and much of the light stuff happened between him and Liv Tyler, who was wearing her customary “Did the director just say action?” look of incomprehension. Those jokes landed with an uncomfortable thud. Thor features a number of big laugh-out-loud moments, happily puncturing the pomposity of the genre / the epic scope of the tweaked Norse mythology without mocking it. When you hear critics or film buffs lamenting the passing of the adventure movies that cropped up at the beginning of the summer blockbuster era, the Marvel Studios movies are the kind of movies they’re talking about. Bit of romance (but not too much, and must be untragically unrequited), bit of swagger (but with eventual humility), plenty of derring-do, and a smattering of hearty jokes based around character.

They’re not quite as good yet, but I honestly think of the Marvel Studios movies as being the spiritual descendants of Raiders of the Lost Ark and Back to the Future. The studio has become the 21st Century Amblin. In fact, I’ll go even further, and I expect this will make people think I’ve taken a leap into the crazy abyss: Marvel Studios is the only large, big-budget film-making production company currently making movies with a similar level of consistency and care as Pixar. Now, that’s not to say I think any of the Marvel Studios movies released so far are as satisfying, finely-wrought, or intellectually satisfying as Pixar’s big successes, and I doubt they could ever make a superhero movie as perfect as The Incredibles (or any of their non-superhero movies). However, I honestly believe they’re as safe a pair of hands as we’ve seen in a long time.

Even The Incredible Hulk, which was an entertaining movie but certainly not a great one, was made with care and attention and didn’t feel half-arsed in any way. Iron Man 2 is harder to argue for in that respect, but that supposed demerit – the hints and set-ups for The Avengers – show that it was conceptualised and made as part of a much greater whole. This wasn’t like the G.I. Joe movie, where so many choices seemed to be the easiest options, or the various adaptations of popular YA novels, which are often hamstrung by weak source material (e.g. Twilight). People sweated over those decisions in Iron Man 2, whether the audience liked them or not, and these choices were okayed by the creative collective at the heart of the studio – people who love and understand the Marvel Universe better than anyone, and are making an effort to create an enormous, consistent world filled with thrilling detail.

Who else is stepping up to the plate in an attempt to make a bigger impact on the popular consciousness than a quick first-weekend burst of goodwill? Bruckheimer Productions? Much as I love my boy Jerry, right now he’s in danger of becoming The Guy Who Produces the Pirate Movies, after last year’s failed franchise attempts. Bad Robot? I liked them, but Morning Glory was such a lazy and apocalyptically awful failure that they’ve lost all of my good will in one fell swoop. Di Bonaventura Pictures? Any production company that has made a movie with a first draft script written in a couple of weeks does not deserve to be mentioned in the same breath as Pixar, no matter how many times Michael Bay says he knows that was a bad idea.

This admittedly crazy comparison came to me about twenty minutes into Thor, as our hero (at this point basically a bit of a dick) ignores his father’s advice and zips off from Asgard to Jotenheim alongside his companions – Sif, Hogun, Fandral and fan-favourite Volstagg – via the Bifrost, also known as the Rainbow Bridge. I have no idea what that looked like on the page, but here it is a propulsive and emotionally satisfying thread from Thor’s arrogant dismissal of Odin (perfectly set up in the previous scenes showing him as a brash child) to the manipulation of his friends, and then to an incredible FX blow-out; a sequence of crazed imagination and exquisitely detailed visualisation culminating in an enormous ruck.

For a while there – and at other points throughout the movie – Thor operates for maximum efficiency and effect on every level, adapting the original source material with as much respect and imagination as Peter Jackson brought to Lord of the Rings. If a movie is going to be a big-screen success aimed at a large crowd of people, it needs to wow, and Thor does just that. The clever casting, the narrative confidence, the appealing dynamics between the characters, and the conceptual boldness of the frankly beautiful Bifrost (like a huge golden railgun creating Einstein-Rosen Bridges that propel Asgardians through the cosmos at a terrifying velocity); it was more than I could have hoped for. I was, at that moment, Thor‘s bitch.

Much of the praise for Thor‘s success goes to every writer who has ever tried to bring this larger-than-life character to the screen, a list that includes J. Michael Straczynski, Mark Protosevich and credited screenwriters Ashley Miller & Zack Stentz (from Fringe), and Don Payne (er, My Super Ex-Girlfriend and Fantastic Four: Rise of the Silver Surfer). While many superhero adaptations have featured characters that I’m familiar with, Thor is a bit of an unknown quantity to me, mostly because his world often has so little to do with anything else going on in the Marvel Comic Universe (MCU). Much as Green Lantern has his own thing going on in the DC Universe, Thor has the Nine Realms (from the Nine Worlds of Norse mythology) to explore, and that, along with the large cast of characters, made jumping in seem like a fool’s errand.

My most notable exposure to him came during Kurt Busiek and George Perez’ run on the Avengers (arguably the definitive run), with special mention to his Nuff Said issue in the middle of the Kang Dynasty epic (issue #49, volume three, fact fans!), where Thor screams in horror and pain as his efforts to save Washington fail. Powerful stuff. Bearing my ignorance in mind, the various writers have done a magnificent job in getting the audience up to speed quickly, with information about Thor’s world cleverly parcelled out during the movie’s running time (the mention of Yggdrasill late in the movie, and its depiction in terms of science, is very pleasing).

Even better, any fears that Thor will sit apart from the “realistic” movies in the rest of the MFU are quickly removed; though the comics are filled with magic and castles and suchlike, the Asgard of Thor is a technologically advanced world populated by what is likely an alien civilisation that resembles humanity living in an inter-dimensional city with floating buildings, vast waterfalls, and lots and lots and lots of gold. It’s not said outright that this alien origin is the case, but there is more than enough wiggle-room for any possible interpretation. The result is a surprisingly consistent vision across the MFU, in which we can have a “Norse God” hanging out in a small town and getting pestered by the same vaguely-sinister SHIELD agents that keep bugging Tony Stark and not have this seem like a contradiction or a leap of logic. A small miracle in itself.

Thor‘s most successful stroke of genius might be in the casting; another example of Marvel Studios really taking care to make sure every aspect of their universe works. Just about every character is cast right, with special praise to Chris Hemsworth and Tom Hiddleston as Thor and Loki. Their disintegrating relationship is the heart of the movie, even more than that of Thor and Odin, and Hiddleston does incredibly effective work as the “betrayed” son who lets his sense of pride ruin his life. He is scarily good in every scene, and promises to be one of the best things about all of the forthcoming stories told in the MFU from this point on.

Also great are Ray Stephenson, here escaping the terrible dark pull of that last, execrable Punisher movie by embodying the burly and voracious Volstagg, and Jaime Alexander as brave Sif – a fearsome warrior who doesn’t need a schoolgirl’s outfit when she fights, cough Zack Snyder cough cough. As for DJ Big Driis, aka Idris Elba, in the role of Heimdall, all I can say is I forgive you for Loofah OMG you are a fucking badass to the max OMG you need a spin-off movie stat holy shit that golden armour and massive sword really look good on you. Sadly, the much-missed Rene Russo gets little to do, but at least she swings a sword at one point. I guess. ::sadface:: Anthony Hopkins makes up for that; he does his traditional Hopkins thing, but for some of us (i.e. me) that’s more than enough. Especially as Asgard doesn’t have as many objects for him to do his trademark lean on, so he has to improve his posture for once.

The human characters are also well-cast, with Kat Dennings being more charming than usual as Comedy Relief Girl (she has a name, but she’s pretty much just Designated Clown Who Mentions Facebook And Abs; luckily she does it well), and Stellan Skarsgård thankfully eradicating the memory of Mamma Mia by being generally funny (and, it seems, playing a more important character in the MFU than I thought; he’s in The Avengers too). Natalie Portman is less noticeable, but then Jane Foster is not the most interesting of characters anyway. Sadly that flatness is a big problem for the final act; some of the choices Thor makes don’t have the impact they should, as it’s hard to really care for his relationship with this earthwoman after just an hour in their presence.

The filmmakers and actors attempt to make the relationship work by taking a few shortcuts, meaning they kind of leap into each other’s arms by the middle of the third act, but the unfortunate side-effect of this is that, as some tetchy Tweeters have already complained, Foster suddenly seems to go all “HE’S SUCH A DREAMBOAT!”, thus eliminating her as a recognisable human being. I’d argue that this weird post-post-post-post-feminist “He’s such a hunk!” swooning is necessary in terms of plot, and is kinda played for laughs anyway (“Look! This guy is just so impossibly hot and heroic that the strong woman lost her cool!”), but yeah, it seemed like a bit of a stretch.

There are other flaws here too. The finale is really hectic, with lots of “Let me explain what the terrible outcome of this action will be if you do that thing!” exposition delivered while various characters hurtle through walls. Loki’s motivation is explained in a single exhale just seconds before everything kicks off, which robs the final showdown of its power. Many of the characters are underused, but that’s inevitable, and just makes me want many sequels so we can see Sif and the Warriors Three at full power. Some of the action sequences are garbled and confusingly edited, which is nothing new, sadly. Many of the scenes on the Rainbow Bridge sadly look like what they are; a bunch of folks arguing in front of a green screen. Things pick up considerably when those incredible sets are used.

Much has been made of Thor’s jump from brat to hero, which does seem to skip a few steps, but it struck me that his initial petulance upon turning up on Earth had more to do with him not really understanding how serious Odin is. His “WHYYYYYYYYY??!!??” of horror wasn’t just Branagh over-egging the drama; it’s the moment Thor realises his pops really did just cast him out of the family home. His immediate reaction is to finally doubt himself, and the subsequent scene is what pushes him over the edge. It’s speedy, but it’s not inconsistent.

Worst of all is Branagh being his own worst enemy, as usual. Though he thankfully allows much of Thor to play out relatively calmly, dialling down the Branaghnian shouting and running until the relevant dramatic scene, he still can’t resist using the most obnoxious Dutch tilts ever committed to film. Much of the movie appears to take place on a severe incline; audiences will more likely suffer neck pains than headaches from the 3D conversion. Still, I’ll take that over his usual style; Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein is the first movie ever made where all of the actors were required to sprint around the set while screaming at each other. Less is more, Kenny.

Flaws aside, this is an immensely entertaining movie, made with love and ready to give the audience the good time for its very very many pounds / dollars / shekels. This is something that is done so rarely nowadays that it’s easy to forget how much fun it can be to sit in a cinema watching a couple of hundred million dollars get squandered just to make you believe a big hollow robot can shoot fire out of its retractable face like Gort from The Day The Earth Stood Still (except this time he’s ribbed for our pleasure). The naysayers and haters can back off for now; 2011 summer blowout has arrived with a big, colourful splash. Thank you to Branagh, Hemsworth, and the rest of the cast and crew on this good-time epic because, against all of the odds, it has made a believer out of me, and turned me into a fan of the God of Thunder. HAVE AT THEE!

P.S. Advice for those who have yet to see it; keep an eye out for what I think might be the Eye of Agamotto in one scene, and do stay for the post-credits scene. Instead of just being a tiny hint about the next MFU installment, this actually seems to be a key plot-point for The Avengers. I doubt it’s crucial, but it does give an idea of what is in store.

Listmania ‘10! Crew Contributions Of The Year

It’s weird how Black Swan and Inception completely took over 2010, to the extent that I’ve barely thought about any other movies. In the Best Movies list I finished last week, I intended to make a comment about how the enjoyment-gap between them was almost non-existent: my memory of both of them is that they were like really very loud out-of-body experiences, but with trains, lesbian sex, nail-clipping, Winona Ryder clutching a glass of some expensive drink and looking very angry, and Joseph Gordon-Levitt’s tight buns (a pair of buttocks I didn’t actually notice, what with him running across the ceiling in his most memorable scene, but I have since found out from some of his lady-fans that his bum was very nice). I liked everything in the Best Movies list (obvs), but the leap from number three to number two was pretty large.

As you can see from these categories, Black Swan and Inception keep cropping up. It’s hard to exaggerate how impressive they both were on a technical level. The pleasure I derived from seeing two films as well crafted as this make me wonder if I’m really just a sucker for pretty things onscreen: certainly a conversation I had about Tron: Legacy just a couple of hours ago — which saw me make an unconvincing case for it by just pointing out how much my eyes and ears enjoyed it — makes me think I’m shallow.

But balls to it. Black Swan and Inception moved my heart as well as my two primary face-sensors. They’re near-perfect film experiences that left me breathless with joy in their final moments, and deserve all the praise I can throw at them. In the meantime, see below for some compliments for other films as well. They are not intended to be scraps from the table: all the work mentioned below is exemplary.

Best Director: Darren Aronofsky – Black Swan

Honorable Mentions:

Christopher Nolan – Inception

David Fincher – The Social Network

Lisa Cholodenko – The Kids Are All Right

Lee Unkrich – Toy Story 3

Takashi Miike – 13 Assassins

Best Screenplay: Lisa Cholodenko & Stuart Blumberg – The Kids Are All Right

Honorable Mentions:

Christopher Nolan – Inception

Nicole Holofcener – Please Give

Aaron Sorkin – The Social Network

Noah Baumbach and Jennifer Jason Leigh – Greenberg

Michael Arndt – Toy Story 3

“Where Have You Been?” Director of the Year: Joe Dante – The Hole

Best Visual Effects: Digital Domain / Prana Studios Inc. / Ollin Studio / Mr. X Inc. / Prime Focus Vancouver – Tron: Legacy


Honorable Mentions:

Double Negative / Asylum Visual Effects / Method / Rising Sun Pictures / Ghost VFX - The Sorceror’s Apprentice

SPI / CafeFX / Matte World Digital / In-Three Inc. - Alice in Wonderland

Hydraulx – Skyline

C.O.R.E. Digital Pictures / Buf / Image Metrics - Splice

Double Negative – Inception

Best Cinematography - Shelly Johnson - The Wolfman

Honorable Mentions:

Matthew Libatique – Black Swan

Robert Richardson – Shutter Island

Wally Pfister – Inception

Christopher Doyle – Ondine

Martin Ruhe – The American

Best Editing: Lee Smith – Inception

Best Sound Design – Craig Henigan – Black Swan

Honorable Mentions:

Ren Klyce - The Social Network

Leslie Shatz – Meek’s Cutoff

Eugene Gearty and Philip Stockton - Shutter Island

Richard King – Inception

Akritchalerm Kalayanamittr and Koichi Shimizu – Uncle Boonmee Who Can Recall His Past Lives

Best Soundtrack (of the century, let’s face it) – Hans Zimmer – Inception


Honorable Mentions:

Clint Mansell – Black Swan

Daft Punk – Tron: Legacy

Alexandre Desplat – The Ghost Writer

Anton Sanko – Rabbit Hole

Kjartan Sveinsson – Ondine

Best Individual Song: Derezzed by Daft Punk - Tron: Legacy

Best Production Design: Kevin Ishioka – Tron: Legacy

(Image taken from Steve Jung’s lovely website.)

Honorable Mentions:

Dante Ferretti – Shutter Island

Thérèse DePrez – Black Swan

Albrecht Konrad - The Ghost Writer

Guy Hendrix Dyas – Inception

Robert Stromberg – Alice in Wonderland

Best Costume Design: Penny Rose - Prince of Persia: The Sands of Time

Honorable Mentions:

Lindy Hemming - Clash of the Titans

Michael Wilkinson / Quantum Creation FX - Tron: Legacy

Bruce Yu – Detective Dee and the Mystery of the Phantom Flame

Janty Yates – Robin Hood

Michael Kaplan – The Sorcerer’s Apprentice

Worst Director: Paul W.S. Anderson - Resident Evil: Afterlife

Dishonorable Mentions:

Kevin Smith – Cop Out

Alexandre Aja – Piranha 3D

Tim Burton – Alice in Wonderland

Tom Vaughan – Extraordinary Measures

Chris Columbus – Percy Jackson and the Lightning Thief

Worst Screenplay: Linda Woolverton - Alice in Wonderland

Dishonorable Mentions:

Paul W.S. Anderson - Resident Evil: Afterlife

Robert Nelson Jacobs – Extraordinary Measures

Rob and Mark Cullen – Cop Out

M. Night Shyamalan – The Last Airbender

Pete Goldfinger and Josh Stolberg – Piranha 3D

Worst Cinematography – Andrew Dunn – Extraordinary Measures

Dishonorable Mentions:

Michael Watson – Skyline

Robert Richardson – Eat, Pray, Love

David Klein – Cop Out

Oliver Bokelberg – The Bounty Hunter

Michel Abramowicz - From Paris With Love

Worst Editing: Kevin Smith – Cop Out

One more to go: miscellaneous gubbins of the year, where I pick the best hair, creepiest poster, and most debonair badass, among other things.

Listmania ‘09! Crew Contributions Of The Year

Time to praise (and not-praise) crew contributions to cinema in 2009. A quick caveat: though it probably renders these “awards” moot, I’d like to give a shout-out to all of the crewmembers and professionals who are about to win Worst whatever awards or dishonorable mentions. For the most part, I know that these men and women are very talented people whose contributions to other movies have been worthy of praise. It’s very rare that I think someone who worked on a film is completely beyond hope, and that’s certainly the case here. I just think that their work has been compromised by some bad choices or decisions by those higher up, and have only attached their names to the ignominious Worst awards for clarity.

Case in point: last year I selected Anthony Dod Mantle’s work on Slumdog Millionaire as the Worst Cinematography of the year, knowing full well that he is a remarkable cinematographer with a long list of great projects behind him. However, I thought his work on Slumdog was hideous. That was either because of choices he made, or because of decisions made by director Danny Boyle. Saying someone’s work represented the worst cinematography or editing of the year is not meant as a diss against them personally. It’s just a way of saying that their work here was not up-to-scratch, for any number of reasons. I’m sure this little Get-Out Clause will make everyone feel so much better about what I say. [/delusion]

Another thing. Some of the technical categories such as Production Design and FX are there to praise more than one person or FX company, but for brevity’s sake, I’ve chosen to mention just the most prominent names responsible. Certainly, big FX movies feature work from dozens of different FX houses, and I feel really bad for just choosing to mention the one or two biggest names involved. If the movie is on the FX list or the Production Design list, rest assured I liked all of the work done on those movies, and everyone who worked on them deserve praise. My apologies for not going through every name. Just know that I am filled with respect and gratitude for all of the work done on those movies.

Right, on with the show, and I start with a completely unsurprising choice…

Best Director: Quentin Tarantino (Inglourious Basterds)

Honorable Mentions:

Gaspar Noe (Enter The Void)
Kathryn Bigelow (The Hurt Locker)
Armando Iannucci (In The Loop)
Sam Raimi (Drag Me To Hell)
Jacques Audiard (A Prophet)

Best Screenplay: Jesse Armstrong, Simon Blackwell, Armando Iannucci, Ian Martin, Tony Roche (In The Loop)

Honorable Mentions:

Quentin Tarantino (Inglourious Basterds)
Scott Z. Burns (The Informant!)
Greg Mottola (Adventureland)
Pete Docter, Bob Peterson, Thomas McCarthy (Up)
Wes Anderson, Noah Baumbach (Fantastic Mr. Fox)

Best Editing: Jeffrey Ford, Paul Rubell (Public Enemies)

Best Soundtrack: Joe Hisaishi – Ponyo on the Cliff by the Sea

Honorable Mentions:

Elliot Goldenthal (Public Enemies)
Alexandre Desplat (A Prophet)
Michael Giacchino (Star Trek)
Michael Giacchino (Up)
Mark Mothersbaugh (Cloudy With A Chance Of Meatballs)

Best Use of Music: Street Fighting Man - Rolling Stones (During the Terrible Tractors segment of Fantastic Mr. Fox)

Best Visual Effects: WETA / ILM (Avatar)

Honorable Mentions:

Uncharted Territory / Digital Domain / Many many many other FX workshops (2012)
BUF (Enter The Void)
Digital Domain / ILM (Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen)
ILM / Digital Domain (Star Trek)
Image Engine / The Embassy Visual Effects / Zoic Studios (District 9)

Best Production Design: Rick Carter / Robert Stromberg (Avatar)

Honorable Mentions:

Scott Chambliss (Star Trek)
Jess Gonchor (A Serious Man)
David Wasco (Inglourious Basterds)
Alex McDowell (Watchmen)
Denise Pizzini (Black Dynamite)

Best Cinematography: Anthony Dod Mantle (Antichrist)

Honorable Mentions:

Dante Spinotti (Public Enemies)
Robbie Ryan (Fish Tank)
Benoît Debie (Enter The Void)
Morten Søborg (Valhalla Rising)
Steve Yedlin (The Brothers Bloom)

Funniest Cinematography: Shawn Maurer (Black Dynamite)

Most Gimmicky Cinematography: Dan Mindel (Star Trek)

I’m not sure whether I liked or disliked Mindel and Abrams’ insistence on using lens flares in about 89% of the movie. All I know is nothing else looked like it this year, for better or worse.

Best Cinematography Wasted On A Terrible, Uncinematic Movie: Caleb Deschanel (My Sister’s Keeper)

Best Sound Design: Ben Burtt (Star Trek)

Burtt, who last year excelled himself with his incredible work on Wall-E, did another great job this year in redesigning the sound effects from the original series of Star Trek. At once retro and futuristic, familiar and new, his work here was a joy to listen to. Here’s a fascinating interview with the great man.

Runner-Up: Ken Yasumoto / Thomas Bangalter (Enter The Void)

Immersive, ambient, constantly in flux. Yasumoto and Bangalter’s audio work here is as impressive as the visual work done by the rest of the crew.

Worst Director: Phil Claydon (Lesbian Vampire Killers) (The rest of the movie is exactly like this except more blue, to denote night-time.)

Dishonorable Mentions:

Lee Daniels (Precious: Based On The Novel Push By Sapphire)
Steve Carr (Paul Blart: Mall Cop)
Robert Luketic (The Ugly Truth)
Chris Columbus (I Love You, Beth Cooper)
Richard Curtis (The Boat That Rocked)

Worst Screenplay: David Benioff / Skip Woods (X-Men Origins: Wolverine)

Dishonorable Mentions:

Paul Hupfield / Stewart Williams (Lesbian Vampire Killers)
Justin Marks (Street Fighter: The Legend of Chun Li)
Brandon Camp / Mike Thompson (Love Happens)
Brian Helgeland (The Taking of Pelham 123)
Richard Curtis (The Boat That Rocked)

Worst Editing: Jeff Freeman (Paul Blart: Mall Cop)

Worst Use of Music: Sabotage – Beastie Boys (Star Trek)

Worst Cinematography: Russell Carpenter (The Ugly Truth)

Dishonorable Mentions:

David Higgs (Lesbian Vampire Killers)
Ken Seng (Obsessed)
Tim Suhrstedt (All About Steve)
Robert McLachlan (Dragonball Evolution)
Danny Cohen (The Boat That Rocked)

Most Annoying Sound Design: Chang-seop Kim and Suk-won Kim (Thirst)

No offense to either sound designer. They did exactly what was asked of them by director Chan-park Wook. Unfortunately that meant two hours of slurping sounds. After about five minutes it became unbearable. Then came the gristly snapping sounds. ::feels ill remembering it::

Worst Directorial Decision: The Nigerian Gangsters – Neill Blomkamp (District 9)

Blomkamp and co-screenwriter Terri Tatchell hobbled their movie with the controversial decision to depict the Nigerian gangs ruling the District 9 slum as cannibalistic criminals. The Nigerian government took steps to ban the movie in their country, and debate over the potentially racist overtones of this depiction detracted from Blomkamp and Tatchell’s message about the venality of all humans no matter what their race. Certainly the cannibalism of Nigerian gangs is meant to be equated with the white South African’s fondness for vivisection, and Wikus’ treatment by both his white compatriots and the dreadful gang leader Obesandjo is similar, but did Blomkamp have to make them specifically Nigerian? Wouldn’t he have managed to make the same point if he had just had a generic gang in District 9? Or is that just a mealy-mouthed way for me to feel a bit better about this depiction, by making it diffuse instead of specific?

When I left the cinema my overall positive experience of the movie was tempered by this one directorial decision. Though Blomkamp has been bluff about it (to this blogger’s disgust), his choice — whether wrong in my eyes or right in his — has lingered in my mind ever since. I don’t think I’ll ever be comfortable with it. Maybe that was the point, to shock this liberal out of his complacency instead of just giving me an easy, toothless fix of self-congratulatory righteous anger against the evils of racism, as the utterly empty Blind Side did. Nevertheless, it left a bad taste in my mouth. He got so much else right, but I can’t help but fear he went too far on this one point.

Runner-Up: Endless Starfuckery, Nepotism, and Navel-Gazing – Judd Apatow (Funny People)

There’s a really good 105-minute-long movie hidden inside Funny People. A really good movie that manages to capture the exact James-L.-Brooksian aura that Judd Apatow was trying for. Sadly it’s buried under endless, pointless cameos, home videos, and poorly edited introspection. Some critics complained that the movie changes tone and direction too drastically once Adam Sandler and Seth Rogen turn up on Leslie Mann’s doorstep, and Apatow should therefore cut a lot out of those scenes, but to be honest there is more interesting and funny material in the final hour than there is in the previous six months or however long that shit is. If Apatow had tightened the first part of the movie up, he could still have retained the observations about the uncertain and insecure life of the comedian and still have that entertaining plot about chasing your past. It was a movie we liked a lot, but damn if it wasn’t a frustrating experience.

Best Poster:

Runner-Up:

Worst Poster:

Most Sexist Poster:

Runner-Up:

Best Response To Said Sexist Poster: From The Frisky

Strangest And Worst Poster Change: First poster for Moon

…and the second, uglier poster for Moon

Nastiest But Most Accurate Poster That Reduces A Complex Work Of Art Down To A Single Controversial Moment: The Australian poster for Antichrist

Best Promotional Campaign: District 9

Now lauded as the movie launched by Twitter, it was a perfectly judged idea to screen the entire movie to fans and journalists at the San Diego Comic-Con. Journalists were forced to observe an embargo on full reviews, but the word spread via Twitter and Facebook, and it wasn’t long before the film rolled into theatres on a tidal wave of viewer-generated hype and enthusiasm. Paramount did a similar thing by showing Star Trek at the Alamo Drafthouse to an audience primed for a screening of Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan, but that was a film that owed much of its success to a typical PR blitz on top of a bunch of very enthusiastic reviews. Sony Pictures used a smaller promotional budget with greater skill, building word of mouth through that first screening, creating funny teaser posters (a necessity considering how the movie had no name recognition and no well-known stars), and airing thrilling and mysterious TV spots. District 9 is a good enough movie to deserve its high box-office take, but it was the beautifully judged PR campaign that really pushed it over the edge.

Worst Promotional Campaign: Inglourious Basterds

Hey look everyone! Quentin Tarantino has made another of his mad pastiches of genre cinema from the past! There’s a comedy Hitler and Brad Pitt’s all silly and there’s gonna be a ton of violence of action all the way through! It’ll do for WWII movies what Kill Bill Vol. 1 did for martial arts movies! Yeeeeeeeee-hah! Except not. Tarantino’s maturity has been hidden behind some entertainingly silly post-modern pyrotechnics for a while now, but his intellectualism has been bubbling up to the surface. The most dramatic example of this is the difference between the Grindhouse and non-Grindhouse cuts of Death Proof. While the former moves faster and works well enough as an exploitation piece with a nifty sting in the tale, the longer version features much subtext about both groups of women targeted by Stuntman Mike and their relationship to him. It’s a slower movie but a much richer one.

Inglourious Basterds is richer still, and looks and feels nothing like the action-packed diversion the trailers and posters make it seem. The PR campaign also plays up the Basterds as the main characters when in fact they’re mostly secondary to the main plots involving Landa, Dreyfus, Hicox, and Zoller. Though enough people liked it enough to make it a reasonably sized hit, who knows whether it might have made even more money if it had pre-empted the oft-heard complaint that Brad Pitt wasn’t in it enough. Or maybe it worked perfectly in getting bums on seats? What do I know? I’m just a shlub with a blog.

Okay. If there is any more list-making to be done, it’ll be haphazard, even more trivial, and will arrive whenever I can get around to it. I’d forget about it but the world must know what I considered to be the best insult of the year.

Listmania ‘09! The Best Movies Of The Year

For the longest time it seemed like 2009 would be a truly dreadful year in film, perhaps as a consequence of the writers’ strike last year. By the end of it I felt like we’d had a pretty good run, once the summer was over. The early months were a desert with only Coraline making a dent in my memory, but by the time December rolled around with the release of Avatar, it felt like a more rounded experience. Even better, though we had a few horribly delayed releases (such as Up, which was disgracefully held back from UK release for six months), there are only a few movies that have yet to be released over here that have attracted our attention, and even then we’re not that bothered. The most frustrating omissions were our own fault. Jane Campion’s Bright Star came and went so quickly we missed out on seeing it, as did Lone Scherfig’s An Education. Sherlock Holmes came out this week but illness and schedule clashes mean we will be seeing it in 2010. It’s frustrating, but compared to last year’s maddening delays in seeing Rachel Getting Married and Synecdoche, New York, it’s nowhere near as bad.

So anyway, here are my top 25 movies of 2009, in order. Hopefully soon I will get to post my bottom 25. It was depressingly easy to complete that list.

Best Movies of the Year:

25. Adventureland

Greg Mottola’s coming-of-age story is good enough to make me forgive it for being a coming-of-age story (a sub-genre I have little time for). Sensitive performances and a perfectly judged tone set it apart, and I expect second and third viewings will cement it as a favourite in the future.

24. A Christmas Carol

Though Charles Dickens’ novel suffers from being adapted too many times, this version was loyal enough to the source material to stand above the rest. Robert Zemeckis cleverly used his performance capture technology to create a world that looks like a living painting, and — for the most part — his thoughtful direction and stately command of pace are refreshingly old-fashioned.

23. Red Cliff: Part Two

A crushing disappointment after the genius of the first installment, John Woo’s epic finale to the Three Kingdoms story was hobbled by tedious subplots about the horrors of war, as well as an unsatisfying final confrontation with evil Prime Minister Cao Cao. Still, there were enough superb moments to save it, including an enormous conflagration, hardcore badassery from the heroes, and entertaining cunning from Zhuge Liang.

22. White Material

Working as a comment on racial identity, colonialism, and the guilt that attends it, Claire Denis’ movie is a fascinating and thought-provoking experience. It also serves as a fantastic thriller, with its air of imminent collapse building to a nerve-wracking conclusion. Isabelle Huppert is mesmerising as the plantation owner who dooms all around her with her arrogance.

21. Zombieland

While vampires became a singularly obnoxious cinematic plague, zombies went from flavour-of-the-month to pariahs. Nevertheless, Ruben Fleischer’s apocalyptic comedy was a delightful surprise, perfectly cast and thoroughly entertaining. It also featured the cameo appearance of the year, and one best left unspoiled.

20. The Brothers Bloom

For a few minutes Rian Johnson’s con-trick drama seems like a precious and finicky conglomeration of obnoxious post-Anderson tricks and tics, but thankfully it becomes a warm and humane antidote to David Mamet’s cerebral dominance of the sub-genre. The key to its appeal is an endearing central performance from Rachel Weisz, whose enthusiastic embrace of the brothers’ tricksiness grounds the film even while the plot spirals off in unexpected directions and Johnson’s camera flies around with such exuberant unpredictability. Despite faltering slightly in the final act, its ambition and seriousness of purpose were a resounding success.

19. A Serious Man

The Coens excel at taking on unorthodox projects and surprising their fans, but they also rely on a set of narrative tricks that repeat from movie to movie. A Serious Man was no different, with their familiar exploration of our cosmic insignificance coming into play again. Nevertheless, here their tricks felt fresh again, matched as they were to a plot revolving around morality and heavenly punishment. Casting unknown actors was possibly the masterstroke: it certainly made the movie feel like nothing else out there. It ranks as their most entertaining and most challenging film since The Big Lebowski.

18. Ponyo on a Cliff by the Sea

Remarkable to think that Hayao Miyazaki is capable of making movies even lighter and more whimsical than anything he has previously offered us. At times Ponyo can feel too fluffy, and longueurs plague the second half of the film, but these minor errors are easily forgiven in the rush of incredible images. Ponyo’s mid-movie escape from the clutches of her misguided father is among the most visionary and exhilarating setpieces of recent times, aided by the Wagnerian stings of Joe Hisaishi’s beautiful score.

17. Coraline

Henry Selick’s stunning adaptation of Neil Gaiman’s book is a feast for the eyes, as technically impressive as anything committed to film this year by Digital Domain, ILM or BUF. It’s also one of the scariest films of the year, one of those rare childrens’ movies that is unafraid to terrify its audience. Some of the imagery lingers in the memory with the upsetting persistence of the worst nightmares. Also great was the delicate use of Digital 3D. In the year of Avatar, it’s worth remembering that Selick and his team figured out how to use the technology to subtly enhance the viewing experience before anyone else.

16. The Hurt Locker

By the midpoint of 2009, it honestly felt as if the writers’ strike of 2008 had left us in the middle of a drought. Nothing truly exceptional had been released, and so when Kathryn Bigelow’s superb war thriller came out it was leapt upon as if it were a fusion of Paths of Glory and Apocalypse Now. Third act problems drain some of the energy from it, but even so, no other movie about the Iraq war has done so much to capture the futile stupidity of it, nor made such a pointed comment about the deranging effect it has had on our psyche. That it is also a nerve-wracking thriller is a welcome bonus.

15. Bad Lieutenant: Port of Call New Orleans

Expectations for Werner Herzog’s crime thriller were low, with only those few of us who revel in the unpredictability of Nicolas Cage holding out any hope. Thankfully Herzog surprised everyone with this demented triumph. Though it could have been turned into a conventional tale of depravity and redemption, Herzog, Cage, and writer William Finkelstein have little interest in following a traditional path, sketching all kinds of entertaining madness in the margins. It helps that Cage was let off the leash. His intense level of commitment to the project is the key to Bad Lieutenant: POCNO‘s success. Welcome back, you mad bastard.

14. Drag Me To Hell

While Sam Raimi’s gleeful homage to EC Comics-style moralising concerned one young woman’s efforts to avoid being sent to hell, this felt like Raimi had escaped from the kind of big-budget purgatory that he had once railed against. Though still obviously made with more money than he had once had at his disposal, Drag Me To Hell was a return to Raimi’s anything-goes ethos. No other movie made this year tried so hard to generate a response in the audience, and it was almost entirely successful. A regression for the genre, maybe, but an incredibly entertaining one.

13. Where The Wild Things Are

It looked like we would never get to see Spike Jonze’s unconventional adaptation of Maurice Sendak’s book. When it finally arrived, critical and popular opinion seemed to split right down the middle. Post-release discussion seemed to focus on subjective accounts of how the movie resurrected very specific memories of childhood, with those who were unmoved by the movie stating that it just didn’t speak to them personally. The vision of Jonze and Dave Eggers is certainly gloomy, repetitive, unfocused and pretty unappealing, but I cannot lie: early scenes brought back horrible memories from my youth, and the unflinching depiction of Max’s confused rage rocked me to my core.

12. District 9

Viewed as an allegory about apartheid-era South Africa, Neill Blomkamp’s low-budget SF action film gets tangled up in clumsy metaphorical dead-ends and ill-judged racial stereotyping that blunts the message. Seen as a misanthropic denunciation of venality across all races and species, it becomes far more palatable. Blomkamp’s exciting and imaginative tale takes the audience down unexpected paths, skillfully building to a finale of surprising emotional resonance. I won’t lie: the final sacrifice of one character made me sob.

11. Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs

The most pleasant surprise of 2009. Clone High creators Phil Lord and Chris Miller did the same as Spike Jonze — take a beloved but slight children’s book and adapt it into a new format with a drastic change of tone — but veered off in a different direction. Perhaps Cloudy With A Chance Of Meatballs accomplished less than Where The Wild Things Are in terms of illuminating the mental turmoil of childhood, but while it “merely” sets out to entertain, it did that with amazing success. Gleefully irreverent, pro-nerd, and willing to poke fun at every awful convention of lazy cookie-cutter filmmaking, it is also arguably the funniest comedy of the year.

10. Up

It’s tempting to leave Up off the list as punishment for manipulating adult audiences into crying miserable tears of mourning for an adorable animated couple and, by extension, ourselves. Nothing else this year moved us as much as that magnificently rendered and utterly devastating opening montage. The level of storytelling talent on display was humbling. The rest of the movie was wonderful too, building on that resonant set-up to deliver a winning adventure, featuring the funniest animal characters of the year. An emotionally exhausting film, but a life-affirming one.

9. Fish Tank

Avoiding the tawdry cultural voyeurism of the works of overrated ghouls such as Mike Leigh or Lee Daniels is the least of Fish Tank‘s many achievements, though one we can be most grateful for. It is also a compelling exploration of youth culture as seen through the eyes of a confused child on the cusp of adulthood. Katie Jarvis’ Mia is a fascinating and sympathetic character, aware that she is trapped in a life that offers her nothing, but eager to escape with her dignity intact. Unfortunately, she’s incapable of avoiding making some terrible mistakes along the way. It also has the grip of a thriller, cleverly changing tone in the final act without sacrificing believability. Yet another classic from Andrea Arnold.

8. Public Enemies

It’s possible to reduce Michael Mann’s adaptation of Bryan Burrough’s exploration of the 1930′s crimewave to just a period retelling of Heat, with Johnny Depp’s Dillinger and Christian Bale’s Melvin Purvis as dapper versions of McCauley and Hanna, but that would miss out on his deft commentary on the narcissism of these criminals and how new technologies increased popular fascination with the outlaw. Mann marks the moment where demand for titillation grew to the extent that public attention began to fuel the events that it demanded, and this fine, exciting crime thriller ends on a memorable moment where popular culture begins to eat itself.

7. Antichrist

Lars Von Trier has finally appeared to let his obnoxious mask of superiority drop long enough to tell a tale informed by his recent nervous breakdown, and the result is one of the most affecting and disturbing horror films of recent times. Conjuring an atmosphere of dread even more upsetting than anything that master of mood Hideo Nakata could create, Von Trier pits man against woman, and humanity against nature. No one wins, except anyone brave enough to endure this remarkable and starkly beautiful nightmare vision of a world — and a grief-stricken mother — gone mad.

6. Fantastic Mr. Fox

How bold of Wes Anderson to take the work of a respected author and bolt his own style of preppy, fussy humour onto it, and your acceptance of this depends fully on your acceptance of his shtick. To those of us in love with that viewpoint — and that obsessive attention to amusing detail — Fantastic Mr. Fox was yet another success, playing with the same themes of redemption and forgiveness as his previous movies while being just as sassy and fleet-of-foot as his non-animated work. It also works as a satire on the habitual anthropomorphism of the usual animated fare, with these characters being both more human and more bestial than anything populating the movies of Disney and Dreamworks.

5. A Prophet

No matter how much Jacques Audiard maintains he was not making a political statement with this movie, his rousing prison thriller proved to be as multi-layered as the best crime movies of recent times. Malik El Djebena’s growth from callow youth to crime kingpin is fascinating and weirdly inspirational, while the world he lives in is filled with detail about identity politics, French correctional failings, and racial tensions in Europe. It’s also nail-biting, beautifully judged, and performed to perfection.

4. Avatar

While armchair critics fall over themselves to dismiss this movie for being too predictable  – a criticism that is being applied with more force than with any other movie released this year – the story is told with enough energy to forgive its clunkiness. James Cameron has always been a master with pace, and here he succeeds in manipulating the audience with a magician’s touch, delivering a groundbreaking visual tour de force into the bargain. Viewing it in Digital 3D IMAX is an unforgettable and thrilling experience.

3. Enter The Void

What James Cameron aimed to do in 3D, Gaspar Noé managed in 2D just months before. His tale of one man’s journey through death is the joint most immersive movie experience of the year, a terrifying and exhilarating cinematic experiment of enormous emotional power, and a technical marvel to boot. Any reservations about its pacing problems are swept away as Noé brings an obsessive rigour to his visual template: a first-person viewpoint that doesn’t falter at any point. That this brave experiment still has no distributor is criminal. If it ever becomes the Midnight Movie phenomenon it deserves to be, make every effort to see it on the biggest screen possible.

2. In The Loop

Armando Iannucci and the Thick of It gang brought their wonderful TV show to the big screen in style, expanding its scope to include the bureaucrats and fools of America, complete with the same venality, paranoia, and incompetence. Funnier even than the original series, it was also densely plotted but lighter than air: a feat of screenwriting to match that of Martin McDonagh with In Bruges last year. None of that would matter if the new cast members were not as talented as the original crew, but the US contingent adapts to the semi-improvisational style with aplomb. A triumph that rewards repeated viewings.

1. Inglourious Basterds

More than any other movie made this year, Inglourious Basterds surprised us all with its piercing intelligence, seriousness of purpose, and deft gameplaying, all of which are applied to an emotionally complex revenge plot that confounds the viewer at every turn. Much has been made of Tarantino’s effort to make a movie in which cinema has the last laugh and reality is forced to bow to its power, but less has been said about his continued facility with character. To the immaculate roll-call that includes Jules Winnfield, Vincent Vega, Jackie Brown, Mr. White, The Bride and Stuntman Mike can be added Shosanna Dreyfus and Hans Landa, the most compelling and haunting characters of the year. Tarantino has every right to be proud of this movie: it is, quite simply, his masterpiece.

Best Documentary: Soul Power

Considered as a sister project to Leon Gast’s When We Were Kings, Jeffrey Levy-Hinte’s documentary about the music festival that ran alongside the Rumble in the Jungle offers up yet more fascinating footage of Muhammad Ali in his prime, sparring with mouthy opportunists and talking about the potential impact of the forthcoming event. It also shows how the festival almost sinks under a tide of ego and bureaucracy. The worst thing that can be said about the movie is that it doesn’t show enough of the festival itself, but even then you still get to see thrilling performances by The Spinners, BB King, Miriam Makeba, and James Brown at the height of his powers. Stingy though the amount of concert footage is, it’s still some of the best music you will ever hear.

Most Embarrassing Admission of the Year: Okay, Soul Power was actually the only documentary I saw this year. Nevertheless, don’t let that put you off seeing it. Even if I’d seen a dozen documentaries this year, I doubt any of them would have been as fun or fulfilling as that one.

No time to dally with small talk: on with the listmaking! More to come when I get the time…

Here Comes The Sun (To Destroy The Earth With Mutated Neutrinos in 2012)

HERE BE SPOILERS! YE HAVE BEEN WARNED!

Last year Roland Emmerich took a break from making movies about demolishing civilisation so he could make a movie about the birth of civilisation. It seems Emmerich and co-writer Harald Kloser realised just how unbelievably boring it is to watch ancient Caucasian Rasta wannabes trek dozens of miles from icy tundra to scorching desert, and has returned to super-demolish civilisation as a weirdly nihilistic apology for the stultifying 10,000 BC. 2012 is possibly the last word in disaster movies, offering cataclysmic disaster porn on a scale even Emmerich has never been able to achieve before, and for that perverse dedication to kicking Earth in the ass as often as possible it’s tempting to respect the man. Just like Irwin Allen and Cecil B. DeMille before him, Emmerich thinks he knows what audiences want, and he’ll bend over backwards to give it to you.

This time the threat to Earth is not aliens or global warming but the sun, which magically becomes supercharged due to galactic alignment and begins firing mutated super-neutrinos at our planet, causing the core to heat up, thus melting the Earth’s crust and causing the tectonic plates that make up the surface to shift around like cards being shuffled on a table by a six year old. You have no idea how much fun it is to write that ridiculous unscientific sentence. Even better, a news report early in the movie refers to this as a Solar Climax, which means we’re going to be killed off by Mutated Neutrino Bukkake. For this moment, and for keeping the Mayan Calendar/New Age Nonsense to a pleasing minimum, 2012 will be kept off this year’s Shades of Caruso Worst Films List, despite the numerous flaws and annoyances that pop up through the rest of the film.

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This imminent disaster is partially discovered by geologist Adrian Helmsley, played by Chiwetel Ejiofor, who — after exclaiming “My God!” for the first of many times — convinces grubby politician Carl Anheuser (Oliver Platt) to begin plans to save humanity. These involve building Arks to house humans, animals (mostly giraffes, for some reason), and works of art, but as America doesn’t seem up to the job, they outsource the work to China. This is not a joke. It actually happens. To make matters worse, the Arks are actually located in Tibet, but Tibet is not mentioned once in the movie, even though there are a bunch of Tibetan characters included. Those shots in the trailers and posters of a Tibetan monk? He’s Chinese, okay? For god’s sake, don’t tell Richard Gere.

As Emmerich knows that his disaster epics require a cast of characters comprising normal folks alongside the frowning politicians and scientists, we are also introduced to Jackson Curtis (John Cusack), a failed SF writer and divorcee forced to drive a limo for a living. Through a series of insanely improbable coincidences that beggar belief, he finds out about the imminent destruction of the Earth after encounters with both Helmsley (who is his biggest fan) and Charlie Frost (Woody Harrelson), a high-larious pickle-eating conspiracy theorist broadcasting from Yellowstone.

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Curtis goes from sceptic to believer just in time to evacuate his wife Kate (Amanda Peet, given nothing to do except fret about her kids), children Lilly and Noah (geddit!?!?), and wife’s new boyfriend Gordon, who all but wears an expiry date on his forehead. In a bravura effects sequence our protagonists drive through LA as an earthquake sends the entire city into the ocean, and Emmerich at first treats it like a fun park ride. As this scene is showing the deaths of millions of people this seems rather distasteful, but by the end of it we get to see faceless virtual people falling out of crumbling buildings, and tears are momentarily shed. This surface level grief for the billions soon to die features prominently through much of the film, though this promotional clip has excised almost every hint of the tragedy unfolding.

After this lucky escape via plane, complete with a race down a collapsing runway and some nifty flying past obstacles, our heroes go back to Yellowstone, which promptly explodes with what appears to be nuclear force, requiring another lucky escape via plane, complete with almost identical race down a collapsing runway and some nifty flying past obstacles. From there they progress to Las Vegas to hook up with a caricature from Russia (crooked billionaire Yuri Karpov, played with zero subtlety and maximum sterotyping by Zlatko Buric) and his two children, a bimbo trophy wife and a bodyguard/pilot. It’s not long before our expanded group of heroes get another lucky escape via plane, complete with yet another race down a collapsing runway and some nifty flying past obstacles. By this time we’re about an hour and thirty into the movie, and I figured the worst case scenario was another half an hour with two or three more races down collapsing runways. Well, I have good and bad news. After Las Vegas crumbles into an enormous chasm, there is only one more plane-based drama scene involving a glacier. The bad news is that the film is 160 minutes long, so there’s another 70 odd minutes of people looking at screens with ominous graphics and then exclaiming “My God!”

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While all this is happening, we also get to meet the President (a shaky Danny Glover) and his daughter Laura (yet another weak performance from Thandie Newton), Helmsley’s dad Harry (Blu Mankuma) and his jazz partner Tony (a sadly underused George Segal), the occasional bunch of nameless bystanders who will act as catastrophe-fodder, and a group of Tibetans Chinese who just seem to be hanging around to be utilised in the final (fifth) act. This portion of the movie prominently features the other big theme of the movie: characters giving other characters permission to leave them to die so we can keep the plot moving without getting too worried about the majority of the human race dying in terror and agony.

Noble President Danny Glover decides to stay behind for no apparent reason, as does the Italian president. Unusually for a mainstream movie, both men make a point of praying for salvation, and then die. At least one other character makes a sign of the cross and then dies two seconds later. This approach to the effect of belief in the face of disaster is far more entertaining than the rampant symbolism and mealy-mouthed anti-reason bullshit of Alex Proyas’ Knowing which, as one AV Club commenter said, showed “God” destroying the world just so he could convert one atheist into a believer. 2012 seems to have none of that, with man’s will and science prevailing in the face of cosmically delivered oblivion, which is a message Proyas’ sappy movie was not even slightly interested in conveying. In 2012 the only other characters who even broach the subject of faith are the Tibetans Chinese, but they survive. Hours after seeing the movie I’m still trying to parse what this means, other than that the movie likes to point out that these guys live on a mountain, are obviously not as advanced as the rest of us, are super-honourable and spiritual, and killing them would be very mean.

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In the film’s final hour we see the epic scale of humanity’s plans for survival, with huge ships poking out of the side of a mountain, ready to cut through the rising oceans after the crust of the Earth breaks apart and sinks. For a movie with such an ambivalent relationship with religion, it lays on the Ark stuff pretty thick, though Emmerich is mostly concerned with dramatising poorly written debates about the morality of leaving people behind to die. Ponderous and cyclical debates litter the last two acts of the movie, even after the symbolic parting-permission granted by President Danny Glover. Helmsley is one of the chosen few, and his disgust at the sight of rich men and women, aristocrats, royalty, and the slimy upper classes who have bought their way onto the Arks boils over. He even gets to throw a goblet across the room as if he was Jesus the Geologist. I’m still getting over the fact that the guys who organised this project to save humanity thought goblets were the preferred drinking vessels of the last vestiges of humanity.

Already sickened by Anheuser’s ruthless extermination of anyone who threatened to blow the whistle on the Mutated Neutrino Bukkake, things get worse when — for the third or fourth time in the movie — Helmsley’s calculations are proved to be wrong and the submergence of Tibet China is closer than he thinks. With thousands of potential survivors about to be stranded due to time constraints, Helmsley rebels and makes a plea for the heads of state to open their gates and let the people on, using the writings of Jackson Curtis to teach our leaders to show their humanity by saving others. To the horror of super-meanie Platt, the leaders do this, and everyone else — including the nasty Russian businessman — gets to have a hero moment.

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The amount of fake drama flying around by this point is quite staggering, what with the act of getting the survivors onboard taking a couple of minutes (making the previous excuses for their abandonment inexplicable), but there is more to come. Our original band of heroes — who have flown from Las Vegas to the mountain base with the help of a fortuitous tectonic shift — have made their way to the same ark containing our other main characters (a 33% chance of getting it right, I guess), and in their haste to sneak on board cause a hydraulic meltdown that kills Gordon (long overdue) and stops the big door at the back of the boat from closing. With a tidal wave minutes away, can John Cusack fix the hydraulics and save the day? After 15 very very hectic minutes featuring a runaway Airforce One, Mount Everest, and a hint of comedy giraffe poo, he does, miraculously surviving drowning and a grievous head wound thanks to what seems like the intervention of a squeamish focus group. Does this mean he will appear in the proposed TV series sequel with the survivors pitching up in Africa? Our survey says no.

It might sound like I hated the movie, but as with almost all of Emmerich’s movies, it has enough bombastic energy and commitment to spectacle to make the first viewing seem like an absolute blast. There is so much madness here, so much effort expended to keep topping itself with senses-battering set-pieces that the silliness is easily ignored. With your forebrain melted by the visual and aural onslaught, it’s easy to give up your critical faculties, and more than once I found myself anxiously wringing my hands as one character or another found themselves in grave danger. It’s only once the movie is over that you realise the exhausting  fifteen minute suspense sequence at the end revolves around closing a door. Kudos to Emmerich for generating so much tension out of such a small thing, but still, they’re just closing a door. Two people die doing it. It’s a bit of overkill.

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However, if you’re trying to make the ultimate disaster movie — as I suspect Emmerich is trying to do — overkill is the name of the game. Bad news for actors who spend 65% of their screentime on some gimballed set screaming at exploding mountains off camera, but good news for anyone who takes pleasure from seeing extravagantly rendered visions of enormous peril. Believe me, this movie features some of the most impressively detailed and imaginative effects sequences of all time. It’s much easier to be swept away by Emmerich’s fantasies of global doom when they are so beautiful. Ghastly and kind of pornographic, yes, but overwhelming to look at. The LA earthquake scene above might be the most impressive sequence in the film (a shame that it comes so early), but the Yellowstone eruption comes close to topping it. Some of the visuals are truly the stuff of nightmares, and I doff my cap to Digital Domain, Sony Pictures Imageworks, Double Negative, Scanline, and Uncharted Territory for knocking it out of the park. If you’re going to see this, it’s best you see it on the biggest screen possible, just to drink in the complexity of those FX blowouts.

His debt to the rest of the disaster movie genre is obvious. Throughout 2012 we’re reminded of Dante’s Peak, Volcano, Earthquake, Meteor, When Worlds CollideWhen Time Ran Out and The Poseidon Adventure. All we needed were a burning building and a swarm of killer bees drunk on mutated neutrinos and we’d have the full set. The similarities to his own movies are numerous too, from the cutesy old people (Segal and Mankuma in this, Judd Hirsch in Independence Day), to the nefarious politicians or soldiers  (Platt in this, James Rebhorn in Independence Day, Kevin Dunn in Godzilla, and Kenneth Welsh in The Day After Tomorrow), to the redneck eccentrics driving around in camper vans (Harrelson in this, Randy Quaid in Independence Day), to the dog that almost gets killed but is saved at the last minute in a display of simply astounding manipulative excess. The dog rescue in 2012 will very probably dwarf your memory of the dog rescue in Independence Day, it’s so contrived.

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But then contrivance is the lifeblood of Emmerich’s films, with tight plotting replaced by clunkily convenient narrative steps needed to get characters from one hazardous and spectacular situation to another. Part of the fun to be had with 2012 is guessing how our heroes will get from America to the Ark base on the other side of the world, and then seeing Emmerich provide the easiest and silliest answers possible. Jackson just happens to know a Russian billionaire getting on an Ark, and just happens to meet a conspiracy theorist who knew some scientists who have been killed by the government, and Jackson just happened to know one of those scientists, and he just happens to meet Helmsley, who just happens to love his terrible SF novel, and Jackson just happens to have lost his wife to a plastic surgeon who can fly and who once operated on the trophy wife of the Russian billionaire who is getting on the Ark… No wonder Emmerich is not too concerned with the deaths of billions. He seems to think there’s only about twenty people on the planet.

That said, 2012 spends far more time pondering the unpleasant logistics of selecting survivors than I thought it would, considering how Emmerich usually skates over difficult emotions as quickly as he can. There’s an argument that Emmerich and Kloser were only adding this plot thread in because they love having self-serving bureaucrats as villains in their movies, and seeing a creep like Anheuser beaten by the non-more-inspirational Helmsley will make audiences cheer. Take that, pencil-pusher who doesn’t understand what it is to be human! Maybe I could swallow this because even when addressing the themes of extinction, this is a lighter movie than another movie about the end of the world: Mimi Leder’s Doomsday fantasy Deep Impact. That had similar subject matter, but used the conventions of the disaster movie genre to explore the emotional cost of surviving an impending cataclysm, with much less voyeuristic sadism on display.

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That movie was written by death-obsessed Buddhist Bruce Joel Rubin (whom I have talked about before), and with its seemingly endless parade of tearful farewells and last minute reconciliations is one of cinema’s great downers. Emmerich is not about to let that happen, so while we get hints of reflection on the fate of billions, once the White House has been destroyed and the older fathers (Glover, Mankuma and Segal) have been killed, he pretty much acts as if there are only the survivors left to think about, and all further talk of saving humanity refers only to the Ark passengers. Easier to hit an upbeat tone at the end as “everyone” got saved. Does it make me a bad person that I preferred this shameless emotional whitewash to Deep Impact‘s po-faced and pessimistic treatise on extinction and mortality?

Without that deeply reflective and enquiring approach — to his credit Emmerich asks the questions, but he doesn’t seem to want to hear the answers — we’re left with BOOM-gasm setpieces, shameless emotional exploitation and a cavalcade of trite dialogue. There’s no line too obvious or cliched for Emmerich, but even though it is perfectly right to rail against the lack of imagination shown by him and his collaborator Kloser, you have to give him props for yet again gathering a cast of entertaining character actors to give those weak words some life, or even selling clangingly obvious Emmerich conventions such as having a character say “There’s nothing to worry about,” and then having a building fall on them or their mode of transport malfunction horribly (this happens numerous times). Though the female characters have almost nothing to do, at least we get to see Cusack, Platt (operating at approximately 68% Platt-ocity), Harrelson (channeling Dennis Hopper in Apocalypse Now), and Glover doing their best to breathe life into this word-stodge. It even has a late appearance by Stephen McHattie as the captain of one of the Arks, which means the movie scores 10 bonus McHattie points.

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Best of all is Chiwetel Ejiofor, who steals the movie in the first couple of scenes and then runs away at warp speed, leaving everyone else in the dust. He’s always been an impressive figure on screen, but here he makes you believe in very nearly everything that is going on. Only the final speech about humanity and honour and compassion and big fucking BLAH defeats him, but then it would defeat anyone. It’s a monolith of banal sentiment, but Ejiofor still gives it all he has. Though Cusack is ostensibly the lead in the film, it’s Ejiofor’s conviction and commitment to the project that will have the biggest impact on audiences. Maybe this will be the movie to make people sit up and notice his immense talent. If so, then all of this expensive and ghoulish guilty-pleasure death-pr0n will not have been made in vain.

some of the most impressively detailed and imaginative effects sequences of all time. It’s much easier to be swept away by Emmerich’s fantasies of global doom when they are so beautiful. Ghastly and kind of pornographic, yes, but so stunning to look at. The LA earthquake seen above might be the most impressive sequence in the film (a shame that it comes so early), but the Yellowstone eruption comes close to topping it. Some of the visuals are truly the stuff of nightmares, and I doff my cap to Digital Domain, Sony Pictures Imageworks, Double Negative, Scanline, and Uncharted Territory for knocking it out of the park. If you’re going to see this, it’s best you see it on the biggest screen possible, just to drink in the complexity of those FX blowouts.

It’s Burke’s Law!

Last Friday, while attempting to write yet another lengthy post about the London Film Festival, I was repeatedly distracted by Twitter. This is nothing new. However, one of the people I follow whose name escapes me now (sorry) linked to an article posted on the film discussion site The Auteurs. I’d heard of it before but stayed away as I thought it had something to do with the dreary Luke Haines band, but in fact it’s a nice way to completely waste hours of your time, rating and “favouriting” movies to create a Profile for yourself, complete with representative movie still selection so you can have an iconic image next to your name (I went with Gene Hackman in The Conversation). It was pleasantly pointless, though I did take enormous pleasure in giving Slumdog Millionaire and Happy-Go-Lucky one star each, and Kung Fu Panda the five stars it so richly deserves. Take that, Sight and Sound subscribers.

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The article that directed me to this site via Twitter was this lovely little prose poem half-heartedly giving Michael Bay some credit while referring to “fascism” and suchlike. This is possibly the only even vaguely positive critique of Bay’s work I’ve seen on the Internet that hasn’t been written by a teenager with an apostrophe allergy, and as such deserves to be preserved in amber. It might never happen again. As I said earlier this year, my opinion of Bay is torn between fascination and revulsion, the latter becoming more pronounced after the casual (but no less odious) racial insensitivity of Transformers — with the breakdancing jive-talking African-American parody known as Jazz getting killed in the final act, as is sadly the norm in movies — “transformed” into the full-on indefensible racial stereotyping of Skids and Mudflap. Shades of Caruso reader and former Transformers fan Lindywasp (one of her noms de Net) once sent me a very passionate disavowal of the sequel after an upsetting experience at a screening where the audience went from excited to silence once the extent of the caricature settled in. I was concerned by Bay’s decision before, but after reading her heartfelt condemnation, I became furious.

Though I’ll not be able to think of Bay without thinking about that incredible cloth-eared arrogance, I have still long been fascinated — as Daisyhellcakes can attest, having listened to me go on about it at length — by his public persona as the Fratboy DeMille, a man who stomps around like an over-excited teenager while making canny backroom deals for profit points, keeping the cost of his (sill expensive) movies down with obnoxious product placement, and buying effects houses such as Digital Domain. This bravado is ripe for parody, most brilliantly by the faux-Twitterer Fake Michael Bay (sample tweet: “Dammit, if I had a dollar for every time I dropped my iphone out of a helicopter doing a barrel roll…”), though I suspect he’s in on the joke.

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Even more fascinating to me than Bay the Man/Douchebag is that signature style of his. Like haphazardly edited two-hour-long trailers, his films are plot-light endurance tests; a relentless swarm of images that he hurls at the audience, seemingly not caring why image B must follow image A. As long as the barrage of glowing, flashing, swirling pictures and the cacophony of multi-tracked sound effects keeps audiences pinned to their seats, Bay seems to think “Job done!” and then returns to his swanky Bay-Cave to drink Crystal and watch Total Wipeout. Is this good filmmaking? Hell no, and as I’ve attempted to explain before, I would never be able to argue that it was (though Danny Boyle’s similar everything-but-the-kitchen-sink approach wins critical approval and Oscars). However, he does create an experience that no one else has the studio backing, the technical know-how, and the obnoxious confidence to be able to pull off.

Examples: Transformers ends with a city being pulverised, complete with epic firefights on a main street that totals buildings and blows up cars. The destruction-gasm setpiece in Pearl Harbor — a wretched film of enormous ethical dubiousness — contains the single most expensive shot caught on film, which is ghoulish, wasteful, and logistically impressive all at the same time. Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen is capped off with a huge scene where an Egyptian village gets mashed into the ground, pretty much (I’m sure it was not a real village, but if it’s fake he still managed to get it built before blowing bits of it up). He shows aircraft carriers getting split in half as if it ain’t no thing. These are stereotypically big and dumb crowd-pleasing moments that I’m sure Eric Rohmer’s fanbase would consider utterly vulgar, but they look impressive in slices. It’s not in Bay’s interest to coral these images into a coherent narrative other than “Man go from point A to point B while the world explodes.” It’s enough for him to hint that there is a goal that his heroes are trying to achieve, and as long as it seems there is some kind of forward momentum while he stages bravura visual orgasms containing complicated visual and physical effects, that’s enough for him.

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Again, I’m aware that this is not technically artistically valid on a large-scale level, but on a micro-level, I cannot look away. Every dumb populist miscalculation like his nasty treatment of women, or his blindness to the wrongness of using racial stereotypes for stupid lowest-common denominator jokes, or his infantile reliance on slapstick and screaming instead of nuance and character growth, or any number of other admittedly dreadful habits, run parallel to his facility with composition. There are so many shots he has created that make my eyes wobble with pleasure that I cannot forget them. His reliance on patriotic button-pushing aside, he can create stirring moments just through imagery in a way that would probably make propagandists salivate. That ability to capture an emotion through manipulative visuals, aided by the pounding music of Hans Zimmer or Steve Jablonsky, is unparalleled. He truly is Leni Riefenstahl with a baseball cap and a collection of sports-cars in his Beverly Hills mansion.

And yet, despite this facility with imagery — perhaps the one thing I think even his detractors should accept, even if really really really grudgingly — he is treated like the Boogeyman. Numerous people accuse Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen of being the worst film of the year. Granted, it’s not very good, but I’ve seen far far far worse movies released this year. Just a cursory flick through the Auteurs site sees a number of forum threads based around hating him, including Why is Michael Bay on Criterion?, Is Michael Bay the worst director of all time?, and Reasons to *HATE* Michael Bay. The thread NAME THE FILM MAKERS YOU THINK SHOULD RETIRED OR SHOULD NOT BELONG TO THIS INDUSTRY AT ALL is filled with calls for Bay’s immediate withdrawal from the film industry. I get the feeling that this is a running joke, though it is borne of genuine frustration at his movies and his success.

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They’re not the only ones who dislike him, of course. Mainstream critics are revolted by his movies, and even on a site oft-visited by the people you would think comprise his most ardent fanbase (Ain’t It Cool News), Bay is treated like a pariah. “Damn You Michael Bay” is a long-running Internet joke that has become a mantra. Bay hatred appears to be reflexive, the last word in an argument. Why accuse any other filmmakers of crimes against decency? Isn’t it obvious that Bay is the worst of the worst, representing everything that is debased and evil about modern cinema? He’s an unpleasant man with poor taste who appeals to the slack-jawed yokels and the hoodies and the youths with their popcorn and their knives and their mobile phones and suchlike and so on and so on etc. ad infinitum.

He’s the Hitler of films. Mike Godwin postulated that the overuse of mentioning Hitler in online arguments was sadly inevitable (“As a Usenet discussion grows longer, the probability of a comparison involving Nazis or Hitler approaches 1.”) Well, I reckon that there is another law we can accept as fact by now. “As an online discussion about film or culture grows longer, the probability of a comparison involving Michael Bay approaches 1.” I don’t think this law should be associated with my real life name, which doesn’t have the Ooomph that “Godwin” has (that’s the kind of name that belongs in front of the word “law”). Therefore I propose we refer to this as Burke’s Law, named after the TV series from the 60s that was revived in the 90s. Why Burke’s Law? Because I always hear that phrase said in the same way as in the 90s title sequence, i.e. with this voice…

…and there is nothing more awesome than that. Sex up that show title, Sexy-Voiced Lady. (Here’s the first part of a full episode, just to show it in amazing context.)

So yeah, whenever a discussion about sucky film directors inevitably begins to focus almost exclusively on the vapidity of Bay’s destructo-porn epics, feel free to mention Burke’s Law. If Bay is what people think represents the true nadir of modern filmmaking, that’s up to them, but if they’re not willing to expand their search to other far less talented individuals out there, then I just can’t take them seriously. I see Dr. Uwe Boll get mentioned a lot, and he’s certainly a candidate. He’s made a shit-ton of laughably awful movies in the past — many more than Bay — and he has now tried to make himself seem classier by making a film about Darfur. However, he’s filming real rape victims re-enacting their own rape for his camera. Making fun of his shitty output suddenly doesn’t seem so funny.

If we’re going to talk about directors who create deafening, poorly storyboarded and edited action scenes that substitute crashing, clashing cacophony for flow and plot momentum, how about Stephen Sommers? He combines Bay’s inability to understand the clear, unambiguous narrative progression of a movie or an action scene with a flat eye for visuals, as evidenced by the busy but tedious G.I. Joe: The Rise of Cobra? Or Rob Cohen, a man who has yet to make even a half-way decent action movie? Though I’ve not seen his most recent movie — Fast and Furious — I did endure Stealth (where some of the best visual effects ever committed to film were wasted on a farrago of galactic proportions) and The Mummy: Tomb of the Dragon Emperor, which actually managed to be the worst film in the Mummy franchise. It takes a special kind of witless hack to out-Stephen-Sommers Stephen Sommers. I’d rather watch a Bay action scene than something by either of these guys any day of the week and twice on Sunday.

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I’d also like to make the case for Robert Luketic, who keeps pumping out the most artless dreck, seemingly with no understanding of what cinema can do. His last three films were lifeless committee-borne crowd-pleasers that couldn’t even be bothered to do anything pleasurable, rendered even more unbearable by being presented in a lifeless cavalcade of wretchedly awful compositions. As a bonus they also featured either reductive, retrograde gender-politics (Monster-In-Law and The Ugly Truth) or ethnic white-washing (the utterly worthless 21). Or what about Jon Avnet, aka the modern day Ed Wood? His last two movies — Righteous Kill and the incredible 88 Minutes — were among the most catastrophically misjudged movies I have ever seen, made by someone without a single artistic bone in his body. It’s so bad that I suspect he doesn’t even understand the scripts he adapts. No matter how hard he tries, he will never be able to come up with a single memorable or inspiring image in his entire career. Not counting this one with Leelee Sobieski taking aim, that is.

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If you’ve thought long and hard about it and have come to the conclusion that Bay is less talented than these directors, or that he represents something far greater than just bad filmmaking (i.e. he’s a mascot for the debasement of the culture at large), or that his Platinum Dunes production company is committing a terrible crime by making bland remakes of great horror movies, or that the compositions I love are just ugly but shiny commercialised parodies of actual art, or that he’s the worst kind of patriotism-spouting pro-military arrested adolescent, or even that he’s just an obnoxious douchebag (James Cameron without the brains or the talent), that’s perfectly understandable. I’m cool with that, if you show me your calculations. But don’t just say, “Michael Bay is the worst director ever” because that’s the accepted wisdom. That’s not film criticism. That’s letting someone else do your thinking for you.

…Where I Try To Defend Michael Bay, And Can’t Even Convince Myself

Daisyhellcakes once asked me if I defend Michael Bay just to be difficult and controversial, and I admitted that the most all-caps-boldiest exclamations that I trot out are just nonsense. If I were to rank directors in a huge list from good to bad (don’t tempt me to do that. I probably would if prompted), he’d be nowhere near the top, but more importantly he’d be nowhere near the bottom either. He’s lazily blamed for everything that is stupid and awful about spectacular Hollywood product, and for tainting the cultural well so much that the whole world suffers. The hatred aimed at him is startling. I halfheartedly defended him on the AV Club once, and was told by another commenter that I obviously knew nothing about cinema, and should keep my opinion about everything else to myself. I’ll admit I’m no Bordwell or Thompson, but my opinion on Bay is a little more nuanced than, “Me like when hot broads dance and the house blow up”.


Any filmmaker who becomes successful enough to achieve name recognition status is bound to attract critical dismissal, and that will intensify if the filmmaker has annoying quirks that are overused. For example, Paul Haggis’ inability to keep subtext subtextual, instead making his characters voice motivation or revelation out loud, drives me up the wall. Even his rewrite work on Casino Royale and Quantum of Solace makes that mistake. Tarantino’s magpie tendencies irk a lot of critics, especially when he steals from disreputable pop culture artifacts that they already dislike. Spielberg has had his knocks many times in the past. I can imagine he’s never going to invite Henry Jaglom around for dinner, as the guy has been bitching about him being a poor filmmaker for decades now.


Bay is a different beast altogether. He’s directing movies by a set of rules he has made up for himself, and that style bears only a passing resemblance to the work of others. As if brought up watching nothing but early Tony Scott movies, he seemingly has no idea of how the big picture will flow, choosing instead to focus on each individual shot, making them pop as much as he can. As a result, it’s not just the whole movie that doesn’t flow. Even relatively short scenes are haphazardly paced. This car chase from The Rock has great individual moments, but stops and starts with no understanding of how jarring that must be for the viewer.

I would never think to defend Bay as a man who makes great films in entirety. Even my favourite Bay movie, Armageddon, is full of embarrassing, and indefensible, flaws. Even so, he’s no Robert Luketic, or Shawn Levy, or Jon Avnet, three directors right off the top of my head who have never been responsible for even a single memorable shot, let alone scene or film. Of course, he’s also not James Cameron (I make this point because True Lies is on ITV2 right now, and, as shaky as that film is, the action scenes are almost perfection). I think Bay’s movies are fascinating, and with regards to the criticism he draws, Drew McWeeny brilliantly (and, obviously, accidentally) summed up how I feel about him in a Tweet I just spotted.

[To another Twitterer] How can you rail against the excess? Bay is what we have PAID Hollywood to evolve into. We reward the escalation of the absurd, then cry about it when it reaches its logical conclusion.

In the interest of not misrepresenting McWeeny, I’ll point out that he later adds that he doesn’t think he’s the best action director in Hollywood. Neither do I, but he is the most spectacular director in the whole world, a Cecil B. DeMille with subscriptions to Guns & Ammo and FHM. When Bay gets to do his thing right, you are getting to see something that no other filmmaker on Earth would or can do. He shoots fast and loose and spends his money on the outrageous stuff, and can conjure up images that sear themselves into your brain.


As McWeeny says, this is not the same as saying he’s a good filmmaker. He’s just a unique one, and I feel an obligation to articulate my conflicted feelings, especially considering almost all critics are dismissing his movies with such kneejerk vehemence that they’re not even bothering to fact-check, which is often a sign that the reviewer considers the movie beneath contempt. I’ve reviewed films in an almost professional capacity before, and I’ve had press packs, so I know most of these errors can be avoided*. (Though being annoyed by overly complex plots that make little sense are another thing: see below for my own problems with T:ROTF.)


So I was desperate to see Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen, mostly because I was hoping he would get right the things he got wrong in the first one. As those flaws were the usual things (pacing mistakes, clunky humour, Jazz being a terrible racial stereotype, etc.), I was basically hoping that this would be Bay’s best movie, removing some of the clutter but keeping the crazy. That’s the key: keeping the stuff that he does better than anyone. Even though I want other filmmakers to create coherent movies with a steady, escalating pace, I want Bay to do what Bay does best. The worst thing he could do would be to play into the hands of those critics who say his movies are all BOOM and no plot, racing from one scene to another without a pause, doing nothing more than amping up every moment with no concern for character development. Sadly, that’s exactly what he has done with T:ROTF, and the result is a deeply frustrating experience.


For the first ninety minutes, I was absolutely amazed at what I was seeing. Even more so than the shocking and ramshackle Bad Boys II, Bay is throwing the kitchen sink at the audience (and then shooting it with a sabot round). The first scene in the movie features a tribe of Cro-Magnon fighting early Cybertronians, for crying out loud. Okay, so they look more like they should be hanging out with Zoolander than hunting bison, but still, kudos to the man. For the next section of the movie, the film throws so many peculiar and outrageous visuals and concepts, that I drove Canyon crazy with my various quiet exclamations of joy. By the time Megatron and Starscream hang out on one of the moons of Saturn (seriously), I was convinced that this was going to be my favourite movie of the summer.


And then it all goes horribly wrong. The moment that the action abruptly shifts to Egypt, the movie slams into neutral, with scene after scene falling flat. The novelty of the early scenes disappears, replaced by a tedious crawl across numerous deserts, seemingly to showcase the cars that have been mostly missing by this point. Several scenes could be excised completely, and should have. It was nice to see Deep Roy as the ha ha ha so tiny border guard, but the movie would have been so much better without it. This is not the first time he’s made this mistake, but usually he doesn’t put so many of these extraneous and excruciating scenes in the final hour.


In fact, the endless trek from Egypt to Jordan and back again (I think that was the route) seems to only be there because, for some baffling reason, Bay and the writers thought that having the characters just appear at the Pyramids for the big finish would somehow be unbelievable, so we have to see their full trip. Why is he getting squeamish about this now? I don’t care how they get there, especially if the trip seems to have been filmed in real time. If I want a travelogue, I’ll watch a Michael Palin show. This is a Bay movie. If you’re going to use a “Space Bridge” to teleport the main characters to Egypt, then teleport them to the exact spot needed to maximise the action. And yet no. Because audiences have been clamouring to see National Lampoon’s Egyptian Vacation.


The desert setting also steps on the toes of the earlier film. Transformers had a perfectly fine and short action scene set in a desert, as the survivors of the opening base attack fight against Scorponok. It was about five minutes long, had Tyrese bellowing “BRING THE RAIN!” into a walkie-talkie, and featured a bunch of exploding buildings. Those wide open spaces worked well for a mid-movie action scene, and made the final city scenes even more exciting, as we got to see a bunch of robots fighting in contrasted dark and cramped streets with no respite. That scene remains one of my all-time favourites.


The finale of Transformers 2 just looks like a bigger version of that desert scene, with little of the original’s intensity, though it does have some fun stuff involving the Pyramids¹. Sam and Mikaela make their way very slowly through a village, with intercutting of Josh Duhamel looking frustrated. No one says BRING THE RAIN!, though it does crop up on a napkin or something earlier on. Everything seems to move at normal film speed, which is like half Bay-speed. At this point in the movie my ass was really hurting from sitting in the crappy Waterloo IMAX seats, and instead of being riveted I just kept fidgeting. Yes, I use my ass as a guide to how exciting a movie is.


More exasperating than the inappropriate locale, even though Bay’s movies have not been known for their well sketched character arcs, the finale is littered with momentum-robbing scenes such as the whole “I love you” thing between Sam and Mikaela (really? This is a big deal?), Kevin Dunn telling his son to go and do the right thing (an emotional beat that makes no sense as Dunn, at the start of the film, couldn’t care less about his son leaving), and Sam’s “death”, which reflects the big “death” midway through the movie (I won’t spoil it). Why does Bay suddenly care about these things? I can barely remember The Island, and maybe there was an arc in that, but I don’t even think there was one in Pearl Harbor, the most conventional movie he has made. I expect tonal errors from Bay, but this was worse than usual.


Only after leaving the cinema with a deflated heart (it sounds like a deadly condition, but the only symptom is whining on the internet) did I realise that there was a lot more wrong with the movie than just the broken finale. McWeeny recently hinted that the first sentence in his forthcoming HitFix Motion/Captured review would be, “I have never felt more like a third nipple than I did, as a screenwriter, while watching Transformers: Revenge Of The Fallen.” I can’t wait to find out what he means by that, though I think it might have something to do with how the excessive plot — and I do mean excessive — is crammed into about three five minute-long scenes filled beyond breaking point with insane amounts of exposition, while huge stretches of the movie would probably, on paper, look like a list of fight scenes. It’s that rare kind of movie that is simultaneously overcomplicated and embarrassingly simplistic.


Instead of just trying to come up with a simple way to orchestrate some robot fighting, we get tons of backstory. Cybertronians have visited Earth before, and one of them was going to destroy us in order to harvest energy, but a civil war broke out and then there were a bunch of Primes, and they are magic or something, and the All-Spark is in Sam’s head, or it’s something else, and there is a key, and a cipher, and a Matrix of Awesomeness, and an afterlife, and probably a bunch of elves, and… It’s absurdly complicated stuff, with one very silly plot-thread (Megatron demanding the world hand over Sam so he can extract his brain, or something) that takes over the latter half of the movie. For every quirky moment and fun concept, there’s ten stupid complications that mean nothing. By the time Jetfire turned up for his shot at the Exposition Of The Year award, I had completely lost the plot, not helped by my efforts to guess the identity of the British actor playing the elderly robot².


To me, these are big problems, even when taking Bay’s singular style into account. However, it’s becoming clear that the biggest problem people are going to have with the movie are Mudflap and Skids, the comedy relief duo who shuck and jive through much of the finale. Why am I using this outdated African-American phrase? It seems apt considering that these two robots are the most startling racial stereotypes I’ve seen on the big screen since Crash, only this time they’re meant to be funny and not “educational”.


While sitting in the cinema I had huge difficulty reconciling what I was seeing with what I thought Bay was trying to do (have a couple of affable idiots break up the tedium of the cross-country trek with their wacky exploits), and for a while after I wondered if they were meant to be a spoof of Will Smith and Martin Lawrence from Bad Boys (a Bad Boys II poster is on display in one character’s room, and their banter is as forced as that between Smith and Lawrence). Now, with hindsight, that I realise that’s even worse than just two racist caricatures. Is he personally attacking two people he has worked with before? And the guy doing the voices for them is white? We’re talking about Jar-Jar Binks-esque wrongness on an epic scale.

The disconnect I suffered during the movie was similar to the shock I felt during Star Wars: The Clone Wars when Ziro the Hutt appeared, but my overall opinion of that character is astonishment that Lucas could have thought that was all right. With Mudflap and Skids, I was uncomfortable during the movie, and now I’m outright pissed off. It’s made the dreadful caricaturing of Jazz in the first movie (a black Transformer that breakdances and then gets ignominiously killed in the final act) seem even more glaring. Bay deserves the shitstorm that’s heading his way.


I mean, it’s becoming fairly obvious that he has a real problem with women, so much so that you could almost forget it’s happening until the camera shoots so far up plastic “hottie” Alice‘s skirt that it qualifies as a proctological exam. Megan Fox does little more than pout and get dragged around the desert by LaBeouf and Duhamel, not even getting a hero moment like she did in the first film³. Other than Fox and Isabel Lucas, the only other female characters with any dialogue are the holographic women on the transforming motorbikes (ZOMG is Bay saying women are bikes?), and Sam’s mother, played by Julie White.


Being the only non-simpering non-hottie in the film, she has to do several unglamorous things, usually involving pratfalls. One scene with her getting high on hash brownies is particularly uncalled-for. Nevertheless, she deserves all the credit in the world for managing to make these stupid moments work. She might give the best performance in the film. Maybe, in future, Bay should consider giving more roles to women who have talents beyond looking orange and pouty.


So, it was a washout, right? Except that for a while, as I said earlier, the film flies. Even with the inclusion of the awful Alice subplot, and lots of shenanigans involving kitchenbots, there is a lot to enjoy. The new set-up for the Autobots, working in conjunction with the humans to fight rogue Decepticons, is hugely promising, and the opening in Shanghai is astonishing and ambitious. Even better, the forest fight between Optimus and three Decepticons is one of the film highlights of the year, especially as it is filmed in full IMAX.


Seeing Optimus to actual scale is something I won’t forget any time soon. Much is made of Bay’s direction of action, and how the rapidly moving camera and quick cuts serve to render all of his scenes incomprehensible, but there are many worse action directors out there. Considering how overwhelmed I was by the terrible action in Eagle Eye, or by the much better but still swooshy Star Trek (both of which I saw on IMAX), this didn’t upset me at all. That was something I was not expecting.


There is even some evidence of playfulness from the notoriously grouchy man. Considering his parodic sense of patriotism, it amuses me greatly that he manages to destroy Paris again (the first time was at the end of Armageddon, a scene that got a cheer here in England each time I saw it on the big screen), and I can imagine all sorts of noses being put out of joint by his destruction of a library about an hour in. If you’re responsible for some of the most successful movies of the past fifteen years, you can afford to poke fun at your image like that.


As I’ve said, I did like a lot of it. I saw one person lazily Tweeting this morning that they thought this was as bad as Batman and Robin. Don’t believe it for a second: this has much much more to recommend it, even if just as an occasionally exhilarating aural and visual assault. Also great: Glenn Morshower returning, this time as General Morshower (seriously); Tony Todd doing some great voicework as The Fallen, a robot with a fantastic gangly design; trying to catch sight of the cast on poor Shia’s hand in early scenes; terrific sound editing, far better than critics are saying; a greater sense of the robots as actual characters, especially Starscream and Megatron. Plus, even if the finale is not perfect, it does feature some mind-boggling moments. I’m really hoping that the previous Academy snub of the Transformers effects team is not repeated. They’ve topped themselves this time out, especially as they’re operating in IMAX for some of the most complicated moments.


Even so, it’s a movie that wouldn’t let me like it as much as I wanted to. If I’m going to defend Bay in future, the guy has got to meet me halfway. The awful Ebonicbots and the Auton women have got to go. Right now, I’d rather he tried to make another movie in the more sober style of The Island than keep this lower-than-lowest common denominator stuff going. It’s becoming hard work waiting for him to grow up, but then, if we lose the racism and misogyny (which I’m sure he doesn’t see as such), will we lose the rest? And is “the rest” worth keeping if the man is going out of his way to perpetuate bullshit jock philosophy like this? All of a sudden those Bay films in my collection look a little less appealing. Let’s hope his next movie is either an adaptation of The Beauty Myth or a remake of Amistad.

* In fact, one of the first movies I ever saw at a press screening was Bad Boys. Maybe that’s why I’m forgiving of Bay’s films.

¹ Full disclosure. As soon as I saw the first trailer with shots of the Pyramids, my heart sank. A project I have been working on for some time had a big finale in the shadow of the Pyramids, and so I guess I have to scrap all of that. A shame, as it would have been so awesome that brains would have melted while watching it, even though the project involved a C-list comic character that no one likes. Nevertheless, my disappointment with the finale was not rooted in this, as I got over that frustration a long time ago.

² Amazingly, it’s Jon Turturro.


This means he spends a lot of his screentime arguing with himself.

³ Though, to be honest, LaBeouf gets little more to do other than run into danger and get blown up. Another flaw of the film: adding human characters and not really knowing what to do with them, which particularly irks when you like LaBeouf, as I do.

ETA: Here is McWeeny’s review of T:ROTF. Of all the reviews I have read in the past few days, this might be the only one that actually addressed specifics of what the film is like. Trust someone as perceptive and fair as McWeeny to watch the movie and review what he is seeing instead of just scribbling “Michael Bay is a douchebag” in his Moleskine a thousand times.