Chris Hemsworth

Furiosa: a Mad Max Saga

25/05/24

Cineworld, Edinburgh

Furiosa is my most anticipated film of the year but to fully explain why, it’s necessary to briefly look back at the career of writer/director George Miller. I saw the first film in the Mad Max franchise way back in 1979, a modest, low-budget revenge thriller starring a young Mel Gibson. It was perfectly watchable but gave no idea of the wonders that were to follow. 

In 1983, The Road Warrior brought back the titular character with a bigger budget and an iconic look that depicted Australia in the years following a nuclear war. It was louder, more ambitious and gloriously inventive, an unstoppable thrill ride. In 1985, Beyond Thunderdome brought in Tina Turner for a guest appearance and appeared to round off the franchise in grand style. 

In normal circumstances, that would probably have been the end of it. So when Miller resurfaced nearly thirty years later with Fury Road, I had very low expectations. Tom Hardy stepped into the scuffed boots of Max and Charlize Theron played a new character, Furiosa. The film was an extraordinary, foot-to-the-metal, adrenaline-powered masterpiece, one that left me stunned at its conclusion. I saw it a second time in 3D and, two years later, was one of the first in the queue for the special Black and Chrome edition. How was Miller ever going to follow such a powerful creation?

He took his time. I was astonished to realise just the other day that it’s a full nine years since Fury Road’s release. The worst thing that could happen, I thought, would be if he tried to replicate the previous film’s simple, propulsive structure – and happily he’s gone in an entirely different direction. Of course he has. He’s George Miller.

Furiosa is a prequel, a much more episodic affair than its predecessor, divided into five chapters (each with a portentous title) and, unlike Fury Road’s three and a half day timeline, this is set over something like eighteen years. We first meet the young Furiosa (Alyla Browne) in ‘The Green Place,’ the childhood home she spent most of Fury Road trying to get back to, and it’s clear at a glance why she was missing this verdant ‘place of abundance’ in the midst of a desert. But her tranquil life is rudely disrupted when she is kidnapped by a gang of bikers from the wasteland and taken to the kingdom of Dementus (Chris Hemsworth), a motor-mouthed, self-aggrandising ruler, who is used to taking whatever he wants whenever he wants it. Furiosa is merely his latest acquisition. But the girl’s mother, Mary (Charlee Fraser), follows her, intent on taking her home again at any cost…

What immediately hits me about this film is the glorious world-building that’s going on. This is an eye-popping spectacle. Every shot caught by cinematographer Simon Duggan is ravishing and Jenny Beavan’s costume design is endlessly inventive. Add the powerful sound design and you have a film that literally shakes you in your seat. It’s a full hour before Alyla Browne mutates into Anya Taylor-Joy in one of the most accomplished on-screen transformations I’ve ever witnessed. Given only thirty lines of dialogue in the entire film, Taylor-Joy has to convey her character mostly using her eyes. She somehow manages to show Furiosa’s inner turmoil, only briefly finding solace in the affection of rig-driver Praetorian Jack (Tom Burke). Her most powerful motivator – a desire for revenge – is ever present and often propels her into rage. It’s fascinating to watch her. Hemsworth is also wonderful as Dementus, so much more than a cardboard cut-out villain. Here is a man with his own inner turmoil and awareness of his failings. He really should play bad guys more often.

Motor lovers shouldn’t despair because Miller’s trademark behemoth vehicles are in evidence – including a chariot pulled by three motorbikes – and there’s an extended chase sequence that pulls out all the stops, particularly in the part where Praetoran Jack’s rig is attacked by paragliders. As ever, hats off to the stunt performers who make this such a thrill ride. 

But Furiosa is more – much more – than just another action flick. It’s also about the power of mythology, the ways in which stories of epic odysseys perpetuate and endure across the centuries. It’s about the desire of humanity to survive against overwhelming odds and the ways in which religions are shaped by those who invent them. But mostly, it’s about a 79-year-old director at the height of his powers, being unleashed into the world’s biggest sandbox and invited to play. And here, Miller shows more unbridled invention than I’ve seen in a very long time. 

My advice? Get thee to the biggest IMAX screen available, buckle in and enjoy the ride. Oh, and Max? He’s there… but you’ll need to keep your eyes peeled to spot him.

5 stars

Philip Caveney

Extraction

30/04/20

Netflix

Written by Joe Russo (one half of the world’s most successful filmmaking duo) and directed by former Avengers stunt coordinator, Sam Hargrave, Extraction is a brutal action flick that once might have found an audience amongst undemanding cinema-goers, but is now plying its muscular swagger on Netflix. Chris Hemsworth stars as hard-bitten mercenary, Tyler Rake – a name that sounds more like a useful instruction for a gardener than an actual person – and, when we first meet him, he’s already taking bullets on a bridge in Dhaka, whilst being haunted by blurred memories of a happier, earlier lifestyle.

When Ovi Maharjan (Rudhraksh Jaiswal), the teenage son of a powerful Indian drug lord, is kidnapped by a rival gangster, Rake is handed the unenviable task of rescuing him and bringing him back alive. At first the mission goes surprisingly smoothly but, of course, things quickly go awry when Rake finds himself double-crossed  by Ovi’s father. What first seems like a straightforward extraction becomes ever more complicated, as armed drug dealers and a corrupt police force team up to recapture Ovi.

This is based on a graphic novel, but for much of the time feels more like it’s trying to emulate a video game, as Rake guns down, stabs, and punches what appears to be an interminable number of adversaries. At one point, he even takes out a troublesome opponent with the very gardening implement from which his name derives. For the first ten minutes or so, the action set pieces are suitably thrilling, but since all the fight scenes seem to go on forever, they soon start to become tedious.

Ironically, the film works best during its (admittedly brief) quieter stretches, though Rake is such a monosyllabic character, I find myself longing for him to utter more than the occasional grunts he emits whenever his teenage ward asks him pertinent questions. On the plus side, it’s great to see a mainstream film that employs so many subtitles, and the settings are beautifully presented, even if Rake appears to be doing his level best to eradicate most of the local population.

This is an unabashedly amoral tale. Our ‘hero’ is a man who will do pretty much anything for the right amount of money, the other major players all equally repugnant. There’s also a cameo by David Harbour as Rake’s ‘oldest friend,’ another mercenary, ready to sell poor Ovi to the highest bidder. Of course, Ovi is the only character here we can really root for, but, since he spends the entire film running frantically for safety, he never gets the opportunity to connect as he might do – and it’s hard to understand exactly why a deep bond seems to flourish between him and Rake, when they’ve barely exchanged a dozen words.

This isn’t awful, but somebody should have told the writers that less is more, and that a couple of beautifully executed, brief action sequences would have connected a lot more effectively than the endlessly protracted mayhem that’s on offer here.

3 stars

Philip Caveney

 

Avengers: Endgame

Marvel Studios’ AVENGERS: ENDGAME..Nebula (Karen Gillan)..Photo: Film Frame..©Marvel Studios 2019

30/04/19

It’s pointless to try and give this one a body swerve. It lumbers over the cinematic horizon like a behemoth, gobbling up viewers and crushing box office records beneath its massive feet. Resistance is futile.

As one of the few reviewers who was distinctly underwhelmed by Infinity Wars, I still need to see how the Russo Brothers are going to extricate themselves from the corner they’ve seemingly painted themselves into. Oh, right… like that. Well, I guess it was the only way possible…

By the way, those of you who like to cry ‘plot spoiler!’ every time a tiny detail is revealed may want to think twice about reading the following two paragraphs. Just saying.

Endgame opens briefly on events shortly after Thanos (Josh Brolin) has made the most calamitous finger-snap in history. It then moves on five years to show the remaining Avengers trying to come to terms with what has happened to the world. Hawkeye (Jeremy Renner) is now a ruthless swordsmen, carving up Japanese gangsters with relish, whilst sporting a disastrous new haircut that makes him look like a disgruntled cockapoo. Captain America (Chris Evans) is attending therapy classes, but is still impossibly clean and healthy. Thor (Chris Hemsworth), on the other hand, has really let himself go and now sports hippie dreadlocks and a fearsome beer belly. Bruce Banner (Mark Ruffalo) has learned to manage his anger issues and is permanently trapped in his green, oversized alter ego, Hulk. And… well, so on.

Then, up pops Scott Lang (Paul Rudd) recently returned from imprisonment in the quantum realm. He brings along an idea that might just undo the Infinity Curse and return the world to where it was five years ago. So the Avengers assemble for one more mission.

OK, so my main beef with this is the same as it was with Infinity Wars, only even more so. There are just too many superheroes for comfort. The way things stand here, they seem to outnumber ordinary people, which can’t be right, surely? And you know, I, for one, am happier with those movies (like Shazam!, for instance) that know they are essentially kids’ film’s and feel no shame about it. Endgame, however, is for the most part so serious it hurts – it’s a great lumbering leviathan, creaking beneath the weight of its own self-importance. Happily, the po-faced stuff is leavened every so often by some much-needed humour, most of it coming from Hemsworth’s corner. (I love the fact that Thor never has to apologise for losing that gym-ready look and Hemsworth always has a cheeky glint in his eye that suggests he knows how ridiculous it all is but couldn’t care less.)

To give the Russo Brothers their due, this doesn’t really feel like a bum-numbing three-hour marathon. It’s action packed enough to allow the time to zip by and, if the script occasionally feels ridiculously over-complicated, well that’s just par for the course when you have an audience that picks so avidly over every little detail. And pick they will. Reports are that people are going back to watch the film over and over again.

Of course, as ever, we are presented with a great big climactic battle, made even more of an endurance test by the fact that the scriptwriters feel duty bound to include every single lead character from the preceding twenty-one movies in the Marvel EU. That’s an awful lot of spandex to take in. And then of course, once the punch up’s done and the dust has settled, there’s the little matter of tying up all those loose ends…

Look, the cinema going public has made its mind up on this, and who am I to say that they’re wrong? I can only speak for myself when I repeat the old mantra ‘less is more.’ Give me one superhero and one villain, and I’m a relatively happy bunny.

Endgame is undoubtedly a big movie, but maybe not in the way it thinks it is.

3.8 stars

Philip Caveney

 

 

Bad Times at the El Royale

22/10/18

Drew Goddard has made his name mostly as a writer on various projects over the years with only 2012’s The Cabin in the Woods under his directorial hand. With Bad Times at the El Royale, he finally goes the full Orson Welles: writing, producing, directing – and no doubt making the tea whenever he has a spare moment.

It’s clear from the get go that this is a true labour of love and, what’s more, a considerable cinematic achievement. The film looks absolutely stunning and its multilayered characterisations and linking narratives recall Paul Thomas Anderson’s work on the equally labyrinthine Magnolia. Praise indeed.

The story opens in 1959 in a room of the titular hotel, where something mysterious and very film noir kicks off the proceedings with a loud gunshot. We then cut to the same location, ten years later. The El Royale is situated slap bang on the border between sunny California and dusty Nevada – indeed, a red line runs through the lobby and guests can choose to stay in their preferred state, so long as they agree to abide by its rules. A disparate group of travellers book themselves in for the night. They comprise shambolic priest, Father Flynn (Jeff Bridges), angel-voiced pop singer, Darlene Sweet (Cynthia Erivo), loud-mouthed vacuum cleaner salesman, Laramie Seymour (John Hamm), and the mysterious and sullen Emily Summerspring (Dakota Johnson). They are greeted by the hotel’s lone employee, Miles Miller (Lewis Pullman), who, after delivering a well-rehearsed introduction, assigns them to their various rooms.

It soon becomes clear that hardly any of the guests are quite what they seem – and that the hotel too has many dark secrets to be uncovered. Indeed, the story has so many fascinating twists and turns, it makes it difficult to relate much in the way of plot without risking major spoilers. Suffice to say that Goddard’s masterful script is packed full of genuine surprises. Just when I think I know where I am, he gleefully pulls the rug from under me, again and again. And each time I fall for it. Every occupied room number is assigned a title header – think of them, if you will, as chapters – and there is much about this film that makes me think of great books rather than films.

At two hours and twenty one minutes, Goddard is clearly happy to take his own sweet time to let his characters fully develop; indeed, it’s a good forty minutes before we even get so much as a glimpse of  the Charles Manson-esque, Billy Lee (Chris Hemsworth), and it’s only in the film’s final stretches that he comes swaggering into the action, dispensing violent retribution to whoever is unlucky enough to cross his path.

This is simply glorious filmmaking and if there’s a more intelligent thriller this year, I’d love to have it pointed out to me. Bridges is terrific (let’s face it, he always is) but it’s Erivo as the quietly determined Darlene who is the true revelation here, her presence absolutely illuminating every frame she’s in. There’s a superb soundtrack of Motown classics (with a little Deep Purple to emphasise Billy Lee’s satanic connections) and, despite the complexity of those interweaving stories, complete with various flashbacks to earlier days, I never have any questions left unanswered.

There aren’t many people in the viewing I attend and that’s a real shame. Sadly, films of this quality don’t come around too often.

My advice? See it now, before it’s gone. That gorgeous cinematography won’t look half as ravishing on the small screen.

4.8 stars

Philip Caveney

 

Thor: Ragnarok

27/10/17

Regular readers of this blog will already know that I usually tend to steer clear of superhero movies – and of all of Marvel’s extensive franchise, the Thor movies have long been anathema to me. So why did I make an exception this time? Two words. Taika Waititi. The New Zealander helmed two of my favourite films of last year, The Hunt For The Wilderpeople and What We Do In the Shadows. Surely, if anyone can put a rocket up the Norse God’s backside, he’s the one?

The good news is, he’s been pretty successful on that score. Thor: Ragnarok is played mostly for laughs and, once you get used to the idea, it really works. Chris Hemsworth is clearly enjoying himself as Thor takes on a whole new persona – clumsy, vainglorious and full of witty one-liners. I actually find myself enjoying large sections of this film, which I really didn’t expect. Waititi even has Stan Lee give Thor a haircut, lopping those infamous blonde locks off once and for all and you know what? It’s an improvement. Waititi makes an appearance himself, supplying the voice for a character called Korg, and he’s one of the film’s ace cards, supplying the kind of much-needed comic relief that Baby Groot delivered in Guardians of the Galaxy Volume 2.

After some adventures on Earth, Thor (Hemsworth) returns to Asgard to find that things have changed drastically in the land of the Gods. His father, Odin (Anthony Hopkins), has gone missing and his brother, Loki (Tom Hiddleston), has installed himself as ruler in the old man’s absence. Thor insists that Loki takes him to find his father, who has been unceremoniously dumped in a retirement home on Earth but, when they do eventually locate him, he announces that his time has come and that he is about to shuffle off the old immortal coil (apparently even gods can go past their sell-by date). Then Loki somehow manages to unleash Hela (Cate Blanchett) the evil sister that he and Thor didn’t even know they had. Turns out she’s the goddess of Death and she’s intent on ruling Asgard and… ah, you know what? It’s pointless recounting the plot, because it’s basically the usual old nonsense, but this time out it’s nicely written, beautifully presented nonsense, which really helps. It’s interesting to note that a lot of fans have objected to Waititi’s modifications. It’s as though they think that a story about a buff Norse god with a magic hammer needs to be approached with po-faced gravity. Really? Trust me, this works a whole lot better.

Okay, so as I said earlier, Waititi is only partially successful with his approach. The usual tropes that I have come to dread still apply: there are overlong cosmic punch ups, the insertion of as many Marvel characters as possible to trade in on the ‘Marvel Extended Universe’ – here it’s The Hulk (Mark Ruffalo) and Doctor Strange (Benedict Cumberbatch) who make guest appearances – and, as ever, the feeling that the storyline is utter nonsense. It’s almost as though… well, as though the whole thing’s been based on a comic book.

Hardcore fans will want to know that there are a couple of post-credit sequences here but the second of them, after you’ve waited patiently through what seems like an eternity of scrolling text, barely seems worth the wait.

Good – but not Marvellous.

4 stars

Philip Caveney

Ghostbusters

ghostbusters

15/07/16

The 2016 Ghostbusters reboot is an interesting phenomenon, having caused something of a storm with its supposedly controversial recasting of the phantom-fighters as women. The predictable misogyny that followed threatened to overshadow a film that surely never purported to be a political vehicle of any kind: it’s a goofy, spoofy comedy, all slime and silliness.

And those who protested must feel foolish now, because the all-female team works really well. The film is about four people; their gender is never an issue here. It’s refreshing, too, to see larger women on screen without a focus on their size. There are no fat jokes. And this is good. The performances are uniformly strong, the bold, cartoonish characters brought wonderfully to life. Melissa McCarthy, Kate McKinnon, Leslie Jones, and Kristen Wiig make a great ensemble, and Chris Hemsworth’s nice-but-dim receptionist is a neat little role-reversal that simply shows how poorly women have been served in film.

It’s a shame, then, that the story isn’t stronger, that there’s never any sense of peril or tension. In fairness, this could equally be said of the 1984 original, but it was something I hoped they’d improve upon. It all feels very safe indeed. Maybe I’m fussy, but I like my ghosts to be scary – even if they’re funny too. It’s much more of a kids’ movie than I expected, with little in the way of extra layers or subtlety to elevate it from its central premise.

It’s fun though, and worth seeing.

3.5 stars

Susan Singfield

In the Heart of the Sea

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30/12/15

Around a year ago, searching for a new story to write, I pitched an idea to my editor. Why not, I suggested, rewrite Moby Dick – or rather, base it around the true story of The Essex, the ship that inspired Herman Melville’s classic tale? And just to make it more relevant to younger readers, why not present it from the POV of the cabin boy?

For a variety of reasons, my editor said no and it  would now seem fortunate that she did, because this is exactly what In the Heart of the Sea is and I’d probably have found myself the author of an unreleasable book (or at the very least open to accusations of plagiarism). Ron Howard’s take on the story is a big, sprawling epic of a film, a gorgeous evocation of a lost era and I loved every minute of it.

The story starts some fifty years after the main event, when Melville (Ben Whishaw) visits the grown-up Tom Nickerson (Brendan Gleeson) in Nantucket to research the true story of the Essex. Nickerson grudgingly obliges and we flash back in time to meet Owen Chase (Chris Hemsworth) who despite being promised a captaincy for his next voyage is appointed first mate to the rather better connected George Pollard (Benjamin Walker). The Essex sets sail in search of sperm whale and the crew experience a series of disasters that would try the patience of Job, not least the malevolent intentions of a giant white whale, who seems intent on exacting a terrible revenge on the men who have dared to take him on. The whale itself is an incredibly convincing CGI creation and while the killing of such creatures will not sit easily with contemporary audiences, this is an issue that is addressed (albeit obliquely) in the film – and the truth is that men really did go after these marine giants in tiny rowing boats in search of the precious oil to light their lamps and you have to marvel at their courage and endurance in the face of such danger.

This is ultimately a story of survival against incredible odds and one, moreover that is based on real events. The word is that Howard’s film has failed at the box office and it’s certainly not for everyone, but I thought it a remarkable achievement that kept me enthralled from start to finish – a perfect choice for my birthday.

4.5 stars

Philip Caveney