The Grand Budapest Hotel (2014)

A young girl (Léa Seydoux) is seen clutching a memoir written by an author (Tom Wilkinson; Jude Law) who visited The Grand Budapest Hotel in the 1960s, where he spoke with Zero Mustafa (F. Murray Abraham), a retired page boy and then the hotel’s reclusive owner. Zero relates the story of M. Gustave H (Ralph Fiennes), who, along with a young Zero (Tony Revolori), was once implicated in the murder of an elderly guest named Madame D (Tilda Swinton). Her heirs, spurned by their mother’s decision to leave Boy With Apple to Gustave H, seek revenge on The Grand Budapest Hotel. With his employer in prison, Zero must plan an escape with the help of baker and girlfriend Agatha (Saoirse Ronan).

Fans rejoice and detractors dispair, for Wes Anderson has made another movie. Bill Murray, Tilda Swinton, Edward Norton, Jason Schwartzman and co. are all back for yet another glorified encore, as audiences are served the director’s latest succession of colourful characters, symmetrical scenery and contrived coincidences. Taking centre stage this time are Tony Revolori, Ralph Fiennes and Saoirse Ronan; though new to the director’s style each has received a Wes Anderson make-over and been suitably indoctrinated into learning the stage directions to a level of proficiency usually saved for the script alone.

Anderson doesn’t make films, he makes frames; as such, watching the latest Wes Anderson movie is akin to watching someone else’s holiday slideshow, narrated with all the extraneous detail and self-satisfied in jokes of someone completely unwilling to let the images speak for themselves. Every screenshot seems to demand study, appreciation and its own standing ovation, so that by the time the credits finally roll you are fed up and exhausted. As narrative voice is passed from one pointless character to another, title cards announce chapter headings ever more preposterous than the last and the plot takes endless detours (he even messes with the aspect ratio), it becomes increasingly difficult to invest in anything taking place on screen.

You begin to wonder why Andreson even bothers to film in live-action, but then you remember Fantastic Mr Fox and are suddenly relieved that he doesn’t indulge in animation more often. It doesn’t even seem to be about perfection — as fastidiously placed and positioned as every set, costume and actor might be (you imagine the director patrols the set with a spirit measure and iron) — as, in true Anderson tradition, the performances are anything but. There is a distracting air of amateurishness about The Grand Budapest Hotel, as characters race through the halls of the pristine set as though late for their cue, stomping loudly up the stairs and delivering lines as though they’ve never before experienced human conversation in the wild. It’s supposed to be slapstick, but comes across more like organised fun.

It would be insincere to write The Grand Budapest Hotel off completely; there is a humour to its whimsy that stands it apart from the tedious melancholy of much of Anderson’s other work. That said, the artifice and emotional distance created by the auteur’s absurd attention to detail and complete and utter disregard for logic and reality remains, and it remains as inaccessible, implausible and infuriating as ever.

Guest Post: Skyfall (2012)

For fifty years now, 007 has entertained us with his antics, action and not just a little bit of skirt-wrangling. Skyfall sees Daniel Craig take on the role of Bond for the third time and promises to deliver another hefty dose of explosions, breath-taking locations, strong Bond-trademarked musical scores, suspense and crazy villains. All the reasons we keep coming back for more!

But did the much anticipated (and much delayed) Bond number 23 live up to my high expectations? Read on to find out.

FILM NEWS: Mendes shows off Skyfall while Craig shows off his issues

While this blog’s dealings with 007 are usually limited to last minute, end-of-month contributions to Incredible Suit‘s franchise-spanning BlogalongaBond, I could’t help taking to the keyboard with news that the first teaser for twenty-third instalment Skyfall is now online.

The film, which already looks infinitely better than 2008’s unintelligible Quantum of Solace, sees aspersions cast on James Bond’s (Daniel Craig) loyalty to M (Dame Judi Dench) when secrets from her past come to light. The footage itself can be seen below:

Taking in Turkey (the setting of the film’s pre-titles sequence), Japan, the highlands of Scotland and MI6’s headquarters in London, Sam Mendes’ Skyfall also stars Ralph Fiennes as Mallory, Naomie Harris as Moneypenny Eve and Javier Bardem as the film’s primary antagonist, “more than a villain” Raoul Silva.

Anyway, you didn’t bring your eyes all the way here for words; no, you’re here to watch the back of Bond and M’s heads as they stare at a hill. All yours!

I suppose this means that the end is sight. With 16 Bond films down and only the Brosnan and Craig eras to go, it really doesn’t feel as though we have long to wait at all. In the meantime, however, you can expect my Golden Eye review in the next few days.

Skyfall is scheduled for release on 26 October, 2012.

Wrath of the Titans (2012)

In exile with his son as anonymous fishermen after defeating the Kraken, Perseus (Sam Worthington) refuses to aid his father Zeus (Liam Neeson) in the Godly battle to keep the escaping prisoners of Tartarus at bay. When a mutiny at the hands of Ares (Édgar Ramírez), God of War, sees the Gods either killed or imprisoned, however, Perseus has no choice but to travel to the underworld in order to free his father and prevent Hades (Ralph Fiennes) from releasing the nigh-unstoppable Kronos from his dormancy. Knowing that only the combined might of Zeus’ Thunderbolt, Hades’ Pitchfork, and Poseidon’s Trident – combined to make the Spear of Triam – has ever proved effective in stopping Kronos, Perseus seeks the weapons’ creator, Hephaestus (Bill Nighy), along with Queen Andromeda (Rosamund Pike, for pity’s sake) and Agenor (Toby Kebbell), the demigod son of Poseidon.

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part II (2011)

Bloody Hell, as Ron Weasley might have said. Ten years, eight movies, four directors and a worldwide box-office gross of over six billion dollars and look where it’s taken us: full circle.

So, without further ado, now the conclusion…

With three Horcruxes down and just four to go, Harry Potter (Daniel Radcliffe) must pick up where he left off if he is to defeat Lord Voldemort (Ralph Fiennes) once and for all. Bartering with the goblin Griphook (Warwick Davis) – entry into Bellatrix Lestrange’s (Helena Bonham Carter) vault at Gringotts for the sword of Griffindor – Harry, Ron (Rupert Grint) and Hermione (Emma Watson) must utilise all they have learnt in order to make it past the extensive security. Recognising Voldemort’s presence in the cup of Hufflepuff, the trio are betrayed and left to make their own way out of the wizarding bank – swordless. Cue: dragon.

Parting ways with the Ukrainian Ironbelly, Harry’s connection with Voldemort indicates that the next Horcrux lies within the walls of Hogwarts. Assisted by Dumbledore’s brother, Aberforth, Harry, Ron and Hermione are shown the way back into the castle, lead through the secret passageway by none other than Neville Longbottom (Matthew Lewis). Identifying the remaining two Horcruxes as Rowena Ravenclaw’s Diadem and the Dark Lord’s pet snake Nagini as the remaining Horcruxes, the trio split up in search of both the diadem and a means to destroy it while the school’s staff, students and the Order of the Phoenix prepare Hogwarts for battle.

There will be some, the odd soul as yet uninitiated with J. K. Rowling’s celebrated source material, to whom the above might as well be conveyed in Parseltongue. All this talk of Horcruxes and Hogwarts, Hallows and Hufflepuff, must read like utter Gobbledegook. Should that be the case, and it is certainly no fault of mine or director David Yates’, I offer this series of retrospectives, links to the rentable film series and the novels before them. One decade on this is our world, just as you wouldn’t tune into the last episode of Lost and expect it to play like the first.

If you’ve stuck with the series, literary or cinematic, endured the duff notes on and off the big screen and embraced the wizarding world, this is the movie you’ve been waiting for. Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part I did all the leg work, getting us just where we needed to be. My reservations regarding the previous film’s end-point proved ill-conceived, a quick session of plot 101 and we’re good to go, the momentum left to build until we’re veritably hurtling towards the finale. This is the shortest Potter movie of the lot and it certainly feels it, with little water left to tread we all too soon find ourselves back in Hogwarts, the end achingly nigh.

To say I cried at Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part II would be an understatement of towering proportions. The biggest compliment I can bestow on this final chapter is that it hit me like a bat-bogey hex. It is testament to not only the work of Yates and his team of filmmakers – Alexandre Desplat, I love you – but the underestimated talents of Radcliffe, Watson and Grint that a story so high on silly should deliver an emotional punch of such ruthless affect. Both in its epic grandiosity and its treatment of reconciliation and tragedy, the film positively brims with emotional resonance.

If you are devastated at the sight of death, touched by the respect of what came before – CORNISH PIXIES! – or humoured by the richness of character (Helena Bonham Carter was born to do Emma Watson impressions), it is unlikely you will enjoy a more fulfilling experience this year. Already likable presences, Harry, Ron and Hermione now have complete dominion over your affections, whether you have read the books are aware of their fates or have simply followed the actors this far, the bond of their friendship is one of the most moving fictional relationships imaginable. While some characters might not achieve the life – or death – that they deserve, the treatment of the central trio is nothing short of perfection.

This is ultimately Harry’s story, however, and while a certain kiss might warm the cockles of your heart it is Radcliffe’s journey that will set them on fire. The depth of character is simply astounding, Rowling’s creation brought to life by an actor who – once upon a time – could barely rub his scarred forehead with much conviction. That he even survives the appallingly misjudged prologue – every bit as cringeworthy as it is in the novel – with his dignity intact just goes to show what majesty Radcliffe has over his character.

That this much nuance and character development is achieved in the shadow of a bombastic pyrotechnic or rampaging giant just serves to illustrate the richness of texture. This is a war movie and it delivers incredible bang for its buck. As a camera tracks our heroes’ movements around the castle, in and out of crumbling corridors and over bloodied corpses, the background detail truly astonishes. The escape from Gringotts – already a impressive spectacle in its own right – pales in comparison to the battle of Hogwarts, so awash is it with familiar faces, breathtaking action and proclivity for surprise. While J. K. Rowling’s blueprints serve the story well, Yates’ eye for an arresting set piece works the material beautifully, finding a new – but forever faithful – alchemy of his own.

I honestly couldn’t have asked for more – well, I suppose I could have but that would just be ungrateful – Yates delivering a movie which honours the past, respects the books and finally gives Alan Rickman something to do other than spout elocution lessons.  As we leave Hogwarts for the last time – awash with rubble and barely recognisable – it is with the utmost closure on what really has been the motion picture event of a generation.