Letterboxd: Non-Stop

Taken felt like a much needed movement when it first pistol whipped cinemas in the '00s, but on its third iteration by 2014, it had become cliched. I'd well and truly stopped paying attention to anything remotely similar, and still have no recollection of Non-Stop being released the same year. Which may have been the perfect way to discover what is a very pleasant surprise package a year or two later!

Liam Neeson stars (of course) as US Air Marshal Bill Marks. He doesn't particularly enjoy flying, and regards his job with a workman-like attitude. The routines of air security have become familiar more than a decade after 9/11, but as he boards a flight from New York to London, he's about to discover the value of his position.

Non-Stop is a tense thrill ride that immediately begins poking at audience preconceptions as the various players among 150 passengers begin to appear. The movie plays with cultural and cinematic profiling that should keep viewers on their toes. If allowed, it's a movie that will surprise you, both as the mystery of on board threats begins to unfold, and the roles of various characters evolve.

Familiar faces fill the supporting cast, with Julianne Moore holding an affable presence as the passenger seated next to Bill Marks (Neeson). Other recognizable faces include Scoot McNairy (Monsters), Linus Roache (Law & Order), Lupita Nyong'o (The Force Awakens), and Corey Stoll (Ant-Man). It would be a mistake to regard this as any kind of Agatha Christie style ensemble mystery, but depending on what you know, their presence may enhance the experience of questioning their characters.

The tension begins quickly when Marks receives a text message demanding the transfer of $150 million to a specific account or passengers will start dying every 20 minutes. He breaks protocol to consult the second air marshal, beginning an unraveling situation that makes everyone a suspect -- including Bill!

Routine developments ratchet up the paranoia, and although the final reveal may not be everything you'd hoped for, it fulfills the subtext of profiling used earlier in the film. It also comes with genuinely earned concern for the passengers, and an injection of action that goes to the edge of being over-the-top, but doesn't go too far.

Non-Stop is a well written film, anchored by a strong performance by Neeson, who's relieved of any attempt at a bad accent by a backstory benefitting from his origins in Northern Ireland. It's a detail that not only keeps Neeson's acting loose, but also enhances the paranoid subtext, playing upon that region's troubled history. Just one of the many effective examples of social and political subtext offered to a savvy audience.

Low expectations were rewarded as I found myself quickly sucked in to a movie that had quality in every facet. The blue-hued plane interior looks consistent and aesthetically pleasing throughout. It's the right balance of reality and quality filmmaking.

Despite every indication otherwise - this is much more than 'Taken on a plane'. Mystery and surprise is part of the appeal of that first watch, but Non-Stop holds up on repeat viewings as an above average thriller. It's a movie that will inevitably become a relic of its time, but a diamond in the rough of this era of mediocre action cinema. That there's been no sequel can be considered a blessing. A great done-in-one viewing with just enough originality to keep the genre aspects fresh.

Originally Posted: https://letterboxd.com/dialmformicker/film/non-stop-2014/

Letterboxd: The Horror of Frankenstein

The Horror of Frankenstein seemingly announces a return to macabre basics for the storied franchise, resurrecting a classic plot inspired by Universal Pictures' Frankenstein, and Mary Shelley's original literary Modern Prometheus. It should have been a fresh take for a new decade, but instead assembles used parts from previous efforts, creating a shambling retelling, lacking the passion or horror of Hammer's own 1957 production.

The Curse of Frankenstein had given a grim new face to the monster made famous by Universal Pictures in 1931. Christopher Lee was far less glamorous as the pallid sum of decayed corpse parts. His very appearance evoked horror -- a glaring contrast to the lacking creature of the 1970 retelling!

David Prowse is physically gifted as a 6'6" bodybuilder, and commits to the role with deliberate plodding, and a brain-damaged lack of expression. He has a curious charisma, but lacks tactile menace, or visual appeal as The Monster. He's unaided, wearing only the most basic makeup effects to distort the top of his head, suggesting a split cranium. A few symmetrically drawn-on pink scars do little to sell the concept of a patchwork body. Even wardrobe underwhelms, as he at first shuffles into the woods in "bandages" that look like tight, white, lopsided sports wear. This improves somewhat once a dark tunic is thrown over his metal neck-brace, enhancing his size and medieval facade.

Like so many Hammer sequels, Horror of Frankenstein is an endurance test for the audience. The majority is languid period drama, holding back the monster for the majority of the film. This wouldn't be so bad if the drama were more engaging, and the eventual reward more satisfying. The Monster just isn't worth the hour it takes.

To this point, the star of Hammer's Frankenstein franchise had been Peter Cushing. He was seen as recently as 1969 in Frankenstein Must Be Destroyed, and was particularly arresting as the driven mad scientist of the first film. With performance and natural character, he carried the first half of the original entry, emerging as its true monster. It's no surprise Cushing would be brought back for Frankenstein and The Monster From Hell - the final installment.

Ralph Bates repeats many of the same beats of murder and malice as Cushing, but is a much less dynamic Baron Frankenstein. He proves to be a villain through action, rather than unflinching conviction. Bates brings an unusual screen energy, playing the role with wry removal, and a distanced calculating that only dabbles in arrogance.

The peak of the movie is its third act, when the monster is unleashed, and various forces begin to converge on Frankenstein's castle, where the body count has steadily risen. The film sadly shies away from ratcheting up the tension of these disparate threats, playing them out one at a time, rather than all on top of each other. Even as the Monster escapes his dungeon cell and Frankenstein's control, the Baron keeps one step ahead of every threat.

Any hope for a big finish is utterly dashed when the Monster, tamed with an injection, meets his accidental demise in Frankenstein's lab. The death occurs right under the nose of ineffective law enforcement, but is only known to the Baron himself. This gives way to the laughable moment when Frankenstein's unwitting killer -- a small girl he'd frightened, but spared, initiating the manhunt -- declares he was actually a nice monster. Sentiments of pathos borrowed from better versions of the story, but unearned in this one!

The Horror of Frankenstein isn't completely without charm, but like so many remakes, you're better off just seeing the original. Colour and grit at least give the 1957 version a point of difference to Universal's classic black & white horror. Thirteen years on, little has changed in the Hammer approach, and nothing has improved.

Originally Posted: https://letterboxd.com/dialmformicker/film/the-horror-of-frankenstein/

Letterboxd: Commando

Commando represents the moment the Austrian body-builder famous for Conan The Barbarian finally said it's time to start talking!

Schwarzenegger must've been emboldened by the success of The Terminator, where stilted line readings enhanced his android assassin, but somebody was clearly nervous, as Commando frequently plays like a concept album set to an incidental film.

Composer James Horner seemingly scrambles to fill run time, mixing genres in a madcap flurry of Caribbean steel drums, Asian flutes, and classic eighties neo-noir sax. The soundtrack rarely lets up.
Each musical style takes turns stomping on a conventional score, occasionally double-teaming a puny bass line, or snapping the neck of something that may or may not have been orchestral. The unusual soundtrack succeeds in relieving pressure from simple scenes that won't otherwise be rescued by snappy dialogue. Occasionally, it gets a little too nutty for its own good, pulling focus in a flurry of horns and percussion. Think sax man Bill Pullman in Lost Highway.

I've found myself revisiting much of the Schwarzenegger oeuvre over the last couple of years, and I've started to see past the inflections of beloved impersonation, to notice his performance has evolved far less than I'd imagined.

In the case of Commando, it becomes increasingly clear pieces of this script will follow Arnold throughout the rest of his career. The one-liners aren't as sharp or frequent as they'll eventually become, but the catchphrases are all here, from "I'll be back" to liberal utterings of "DO IT". Scenes of mall rage and the recruitment of a hapless female cohort will be reprised to greater effect in movies like The Running Man, True Lies, and Jingle All The Way.

The story of a South American dictator's effort to blackmail uber-soldier John Matrix is almost irrelevant. Familiar face Alyssa Milano (Who's The Boss?) survives a barrage of cackling, creating enough of a father-daughter dynamic in opening scenes to keep things rolling with the sub-plot of her kidnapping. The first act twist is merely a means to beginning Arnold's rampage of crazed revenge, urban destruction, and inflicted Stockholm syndrome.

Rae Dawn Chong is surprisingly convincing as Cindy, a petite off duty stewardess with a junior pilot's license. Her flip from fear to affection for the troubled one-man army (Matrix) is a little abrupt, but her arc to becoming a rocket launching badass in-the-making lends fun to the mayhem. David Patrick Kelly (The Warriors) is a uniquely effective foil as the sleazy merc' who sexually harasses Cindy all the way to the parking garage. His comeuppance initiates the action and brings our heroes together.

Australian Vernon Wells is much less convincing as the ex-army buddy gone mercenary, and John Matrix' ultimate arch-rival. The tough talk falls short of wide-eyed menace, mincing ineffectively in a chainmail tank top he must've borrowed from Mad Max 2. The inadequacies of the character may very well be by design, signalling a countdown to his inevitable death. It all gets a little Home Alone when he's reduced to chasing an escaped Jenny (Milano). His final fight delivers more bite than the silly talk might have led you to expect.

For fans of eighties explosions and Arnold's less sci-fi fare - Commando will hold a special place in the canon. Otherwise, it's a mostly middling effort, playing catch-up with Rambo, and destined to be outmoded by future refinements of the Schwarzenegger formula. Franchise fans may have fun imagining it somehow fits into the backstory of Predator.

Originally Posted: https://letterboxd.com/dialmformicker/film/commando/

Letterboxd: Dracula: Prince of Darkness

I always approach Hammer Horror with the best of intentions, but I'm not sure Hammer Horror does the same for me. Watching Dracula: Prince of Darkness some fifty years on- it's pleasing to see the classic vampire mythos played straight, but difficult to bridge the advances of pace and production in the half-century of filmmaking since.

The late Christopher Lee remains as grand a draw as ever, but his characterization is uneven in this second outing, oscillating between the commanding icon of Dracula you might imagine in your mind, and a devastatingly camp parody.

Though widely disputed; Lee credited a poor script with his decision to play the role completely without speaking. Whether by design of penny pinching producers, or the creative vision of actor or writer, its a decision that elevates a performance at its very best when minimal and still. Of course, don't be fooled by trivia: Dracula is not silent throughout the movie!

The titular Prince of Darkness lowers himself when shooing a rival vampire from fresh meat. He uses the kind of vamping hiss that must've inspired Sho'nuff. When the villain finally meets his demise, he does so with flailing slapstick and over the top yelps. An undignified end to the arch-villain, redeemed only by the strength of its concept.

The Dracula sequel, set ten years after Christopher Lee's first outing, deserves to be seen in its full context, but could best be captured by a montage of its conceptually driven horror. Its greatest point of difference to earlier visions is the vivid colour of its picture and imagination.

The occult constraints of invitation and sunlight are familiar tropes to the vampire genre, but the power of running water is one of the less common tricks that lend some surprise to the tried and true formula found throughout. Indeed, much of Prince of Darkness and its basic structure will be familiar to anyone aware of the classics, or the many dozens of imitators that have paid homage. Personal thresholds will determine whether you buy in to one of the better examples of the power of the holy cross - mythology later films freqeuntly subvert, or discard.

The first forty-or-so minutes of recap and foreboding is the greatest barrier to entry. A tale of hapless travelers is most tedious, but those who endure will be rewarded with Dracula's resurrection scene. When lurching minion Klove clobbers beloved Australian actor Charles "Bud" Tingwell - the movie really begins! Simple transitions, and generous helpings of "kensington gore", work wonders in turning an open coffin filled with ash into a memorable movie moment!

The supporting cast lacks the inherent presence of a Peter Cushing, but Andrew Keir attacks the expository role of Father Sandor with conviction. Barbara Shelley brings an energetic menace to the film's second vampiric threat. Their roles aren't big enough to elevate an otherwise middle of the road picture, but compensate for a dull heroic lead, and give context to the threat of Dracula himself.

Dracula: Prince of Darkness sits early enough in the vampire canon to warrant at least one viewing, but its place in film history is challenged by the breadth of its weakest moments. It's a legend sustained by still shots of Dracula's bloodshot red eyes, and Christopher Lee's looming, rather than the full ninety minutes of human struggle.

Originally Posted: https://letterboxd.com/dialmformicker/film/dracula-prince-of-darkness/

Letterboxd: Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice

Up to this point I've made very little effort to see Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice. I've been a fan of Superman and Batman on the page (and screen) for most of my conscious life, but it was clear from previews this wasn't going to be for me. What I failed to grasp was how totally and utterly terrible the experience would be.

It's difficult to think of any arena where this film doesn't meet with failure. At times it barely functions as a narrative film, shuffling from one sequence to the next, clumsily delivering pieces of information for future reference. I wouldn't like to say too many negative things about wardrobe or extras in the film, but nobody is spared the wrath of an ever-present layer of computer-rendered muting, damning almost all facets to condemnation.

The visual hue is evident to announce this as a Zack Snyder film, but it still stuns me the same director who so lovingly adapted Frank Miller's 300 is responsible for this! Sprinkled references to The Dark Knight Returns recall Snyder's previous passions, but the source material is so completely failed, it raises questions about how much blame the director should be allocated. The sense of a compromised vision is here. It's just a question of whether or not Snyder should've been here at all, bending to interests that weren't his.

As Warner Bros play catch-up with Marvel's superhero universe, someone probably thought it would be clever to organically sew the seeds of a Justice League sequel into the plot of Dawn of Justice. If only that were something they actually did! Commerce enters the room every time Gal Gadot is on screen, serving a sub-plot that has nothing to do with the rest of this film! It culminates in an interlude of Quicktime trailers for future DC players who are so utterly tainted by the bad taste of this film - I don't even want to think about seeing more!

No one is more soiled by the whole experience than Superman and Batman themselves. They plod and grimace their way through a film, barely motivated or engaged, full of sound & fury signifying nothing. They enter the movie idiots, long before the war is settled with a very obtuse reference to the ubiquitous "Martha": mother of macguffins.

The biggest shock of the film comes in the final act, when the obligatory rampaging CG monstrosity manages to focus the film toward something more enjoyable. Which is to say, everything in the preceding acts was so utterly miserable. This vision of Doomsday, like every other DC Comics character featured in the film, is only vaguely reminiscent of the comic book original. They managed to make a fairly shallow character even less remarkable.

Wonder Woman doesn't quite steal the show, but comes damn near close, arriving in full costume to cut a car in half, and smack the beast around without the baggage now dragging the title heroes down. Its enough to qualify as one of the three positive things I counted, but the commercial for his spin-off -- a photo -- wasn't necessary.

What were the other two positives? Laurence Fishburne isn't the Perry White of comics fame, but he's always a pleasant presence, and had a nice enough Wizard of Oz joke about Clark Kent disappearing back to Kansas. The other was the music cue for Lex Luthor. Presumably from JunkieXL's contribution, it's deliciously over the top, and could've been very fun had it been in contrast to a more crisp villain. Instead, it trips and smashes its face, accompanying an excruciatingly lame attempt to update an all-time classic.

The rest of the film is miserable. Utterly miserable. I'm stunned just how bad it is. Top to bottom: no good. During the movie I noticed I had a thorn caught in the back of my trousers and accidentally pushed it into my finger tip. That wasn't the worst thing that happened to me! The only benefit to having seen it is that there is absolutely no reason I ever need to think about it again. Except, perhaps, in my nightmares. Not to be confused with a "Knightmare", which probably should've been excised all together. Yeesh!

Originally Posted: https://letterboxd.com/dialmformicker/film/batman-v-superman-dawn-of-justice/

Letterboxd: Hunt for the Wilderpeople

Find the local fat kid and go on an unannounced hike in the nearest area of nature. Local authorities, to say nothing of casual observers, probably won't find your adventure in kidnapping terribly exotic, or charming.

Taika Waititi's episode of life in country New Zealand is ready for export, but may be too mundane for anyone living, or familiar with, similar semi-rural areas.

The regional characters all ring true, risking becoming unremarkable, if not for the charismatic personalities of its performing cast, and the availability of tongues in cheeks. Rachel House goes particularly big as the bombastically concerned child welfare worker, who seems as interested in filling the farthest conceivable corners of her job listing, as she is actually doing good for children.

Waititi, like many of his countrymen, keeps an eye on the unimpressive, dwelling self-deprecatingly on coveted mod-cons usually taken for granted in American cinema. It can be stretched a little thin, as with the director's cameo as a junkfood obsessed priest, but it creates a consistent and authentic vibe to the picture.

Hunt for the Wilderpeople is predominantly a two-man show that could work on stage, with a little more writing, and the right cast.

Sam Neill keeps a stiff upper lip as the lovably cantankerous countryman ill at ease with his feelings, but full with emotion. Julian Dennison stands out as motormouthed Ricky Baker, a foster kid just trying to come to terms with a series of bad situations that are out of his control. It will be fascinating to see if Dennison keeps this screen energy into maturity, and how he will use it in the future. Both elicit genuine affection as they do an odd couple's dance toward friendship.

Survival and genuine action help keep the movie rolling, punctuating the chase with subdued comedy. Like other Waititi films, the laughs aren't as frequent as they could be. It wilfully stops short of being a great film, settling for good.

Originally Posted: https://letterboxd.com/dialmformicker/film/hunt-for-the-wilderpeople/

Letterboxd: John Wick

The memory of John Wick is simultaneously vague, yet vivid. Static, in hues of blue, existing successfully as a mascot-driven proof of concept, but lacking any lasting impression to go beyond the poster, or stills.

The franchise-starter thrives in a reasonably barren market, but can only masquerade as a cult favourite, underachieving in most of the categories that mint genuine, high-concept action classics.
Keanu Reeves anchors the film as its stoic, uber-capable protagonist, at last returning to the man-in-black action heroes he made famous at the turn of the millennium. The cache of The Matrix is self-evident, but fans will see strands of his Constantine, if so inclined, as he navigates the secret world of this movie's cartoon New York City.

Unlike earlier examples in Reeve's oeuvre, John Wick can only muster an impersonation of style.
A decade of bland, pseudo-realism in corporate blockbusters has clearly bludgeoned the audience if this is celebrated at all. Digital photography is clean and crisp, but there's no real vision behind the design or cinematography, relying on Instagram filters to elevate it above the high-contrast of contemporaries, like The Expendables.

The greatest disappointment of John Wick lies in its failure to utilize a strong supporting cast.
Its one-note attempt at style carries over to the creation of utterly forgettable friends and foes. Indeed, the movie plays almost like a well connected student film, puzzled together over a series of improvised weekends shared with famous friends paid in barbecue. It may not be worth watching if not for its cult of participating personalities.

Ian McShane stands out as a hotel owner savvy to the goings on of his clientele, who just happen to include criminals and assassins. The riff of clear conditions applies Highlander's church neutrality to creating some semblance of a character around McShane's natural charisma. Under different circumstances, he could function as the franchise centre, rendering Wick a recurring presence in his world, rather than vice versa.

Willem Dafoe is under utilized as a seasoned vet of the killing game. It's hard to remember if his allegiances are unclear, or if his character is just poorly realized. His presence invites the mind to wander to a better like-minded movie, where his wader-wearing gang leader was unforgettable in Streets of Fire.

Matrix alum Daniel Bernhardt had more to contribute. Pro-wrestler turned actor Kevin Nash at least brings a natural physicality to his cameo role. All of these characters would've been better had they received any of the creative attention the Continental Hotel received.

Gimmick is not a dirty word, and in the case of John Wick, it's really what's missing. The action is too lowkey, and the story too shallow, to allow a character as minimal as John Wick to carry an entire picture. Everything about the movie suggests this should be a world populated with colourful, memorable characters. The choice to deny that only makes it underwhelming.

Originally Posted: https://letterboxd.com/dialmformicker/film/john-wick/