Transformers: Age Of Extinction (2014)

Years after the Battle of Chicago, the Autobots have been forced into hiding by CIA officer Harold Attinger (Kelsey Grammer), while sister organisation the KSI are using Megatron’s decapitated head to create their own robot army, to be lead by prototype Galvatron (Frank Welker). Attinger has enlisted the help of alien bounty hunter Lockdown (Mark Ryan), and together they trace Optimus Prime (Peter Cullen) to Texas, where he is being rebuilt by inventor Cade Yeager (Mark Wahlberg) and his daughter Tessa (Nicola Peltz). The three escape thanks to Tessa’s boyfriend Shane (Jack Reynor), and soon reunite with Bumblebee, Hound (John Goodman), Drift (Ken Watanabe) and Crosshairs (John DiMaggio). They are each called upon by Prime to help storm the government facility and put an end to scientist Joshua Joyce’s (Stanley Tucci) work.

Of course, running in at a truly astonishing 165 minutes this only begins to scratch the surface of Transformers: Age Of Extinction‘s plot. The film opens during the Cretaceous Period, where The Creators put a premature end to dinosaur life with the aid of Seeds, devices which “cyberform” planets by exposing them to “Transformium”. One botched jump cut later and all that remains of this extinction event is a metal T-Rex skeleton, unearthed by a character who we will not meet again for hours. You see, Attinger is helping Lockdown track down Prime in exchange for one such Seed, for unknown reasons. Everything in this film happens for unknown reasons.

Instead, we meet Cade Yeager, a character who is even more preposterous than his name might have you believe. He’s an inventor who specialises in crap, and who seems to think that a world populated by futuristic alien robots will be interested in a beer-retrieval machine that only occasionally works. After all, it’s not like advanced synthetic life has literally only just been shown to have predated humankind by 65 million years. He is father to Tessa, who is only notable for wearing a skirt that is so short you can see the lining of her pockets against her naked legs — often that is all you can see. It’s a relationship that fails to convince on just about every level possible, particularly with the introduction of Shane, an Irish racer who is hilariously dubbed Lucky Charms by Wade.

If the human characters are insufferable then the Transformers are just plain inexplicable. Despite having now directed four feature films on the subject (four very, very long feature films), Michael Bay still doesn’t seem to understand his titular aliens. We’ve already had girl robots, urban robots and even robot testicles, but Age Of Extinction only confuses things further by introducing robot cigarettes, techno-organic space wolves and prehistoric robots that transform into dinosaurs — you know, just in case they had to blend in with those animals their forebears had already eradicated. Most baffling of all is Drift, a Japanese alien robot who refers to Optimus Prime as sensei and wears a robot cloak into robot battle. Despite being aliens who spend most of their time as automobiles, their exchanges make regular references to chess, ballet and fortune cookies. For unknown reasons.

There really are an astonishing number of characters vying — unsuccessfully — for the audience’s attention. The first film involved a handful or Autobots fighting a handful of Decepticons, while a handful of humans avoided being squashed underfoot. It too was awful, but while the visual effects were completely incomprehensible the story at least made some sort of sense. This latest film boasts Autobots, Decepticons, a new handful of human characters (including a second Hong Kong-set ensemble during the last act), human-made Transformers, The Creators, inter-galactic bounty hunters, a car which seems to exist for the sole purpose of giving the Transformers paint jobs and Dinobots, which may star in the promotional material but in reality only play a pitiful role in proceedings. Even with nearly three hours at his disposal, Bay can’t even begin to make sense of his own story. That said, given how terrible Ehren Kruger’s script is (“I know you have a conscience because you’re an inventor like me”) you can’t help but wonder if he ever even tried.

Nobody makes a film as bad as Transformers: Age Of Extinction by accident; Bay has spent the last seven years honing his craft, methodically weeding out every redeeming feature the first few films may have had until he is left exclusively with the worst aspects of contemporary feature filmmaking. Transformers: Age Of Extinction, with its interminable action scenes, cynical product placement and overwhelming contempt for its audience, doesn’t refer to the end of prehistoric or modern life, but the death of cinema as we know it.

 

Percy Jackson: Sea Of Monsters (2013)

It’s been a fair old while since Percy Jackson’s (Logan Lerman) quest to stop the lightning thief, and the demigod son of Poseidon is beginning to wonder if it ever actually happened. He’s hardly heard from the heavens since his return, and when he is introduced to a fire-proof cyclops sibling (Douglas Smith) and beaten at a Camp Half-Blood competition by a fervent rival (Leven Rambin) he begins to doubt his own abilities too. That is, however, until he discovers that he is the subject of an ancient prophecy, and sets off with friends Grover Underwood (Brandon T. Jackson) and Annabeth Chase (Alexandra Daddario) to find the Golden Fleece.

When it was released back in 2010, Percy Jackson and the Olympians may have been subtitled The Lightning Thief, but it was fellow Greek epic Clash Of The Titans that stole all of the thunder. Admittedly, Louis Leterrier’s film attracted nothing but bad press, but for months you couldn’t open a newspaper or load up a computer without seeing an article ridiculing its performances, lamenting the dreadful effects or attacking its terrible 3D conversion. Perhaps unsurprisingly, Clash Of The Titans made over twice as much at the box office.

Not only is it surprising that a Percy Jackson sequel was made (many other contenders for Harry Potter‘s throne fell at the first hurdle), but it’s a surprise to actually find it in cinemas, so quiet and unobtrusive has the marketing campaign been. I think I remember seeing a trailer at some point, but until the posters started appearing on buses earlier this week I could have sworn it wasn’t due out for months. Even if Sea Of Monsters turned out to be a great movie — and 20th Century Fox certainly seems to have its doubts — it’s unlikely enough people will see it to make a third film viable.

But Percy Jackson: Sea Of Monsters is not a great movie; it’s barely even a satisfactory one. The budding franchise has taken a pay cut since the previous movie, and the inevitable compromises can be felt in nearly every scene; the big names are out, with Pierce Brosnan unceremoniously replaced with the more affordable Anthony Head as centaur Chiron, and the heavens (pretty important, you’d imagine, for a film about the gods) all but cut from the script. Instead, then, of conversing with father Perseus, Percy is left to emote at a lake or weep into his sword, while a stain-glass animation is used to plug the various gaps in the story. Money obviously isn’t everything, but the narrative often feels as though it is serving the budget rather than telling the full story.

That said, director Thor Freudenthal — quite possibly a demigod himself — does his best to keep the story trundling along, and, like Chris Columbus’ original, Percy Jackson: Sea Of Monsters is at least watchable. Logan Lerman once again makes for a solid lead, even if his performance is more competent than compelling. Brandon T. Jackson and Alexandra Daddario similarly give it their all, but to substantially lesser effect.  Only Nathan Fillion makes any sort of impression as Hermes — he replaces Dylan Neal as the god of messengers (he works at UPS) — by bringing his usual levity to a film that is often more inclined towards unintentional humour. He even gets to make a joke about Firefly‘s premature cancellation.

Ultimately, the biggest problem has nothing to do with insufficient funds or the filmmaking in general. The main issue is a conceptual one; despite the best efforts of all involved it is impossible to invest in the characters or plot as written. Rick Riordan’s book series of the same name lifts Greek mythology wholesale and transplants it to modern-day America, and the results are a little too familiar (Wrath Of The Titans used essentially the same story last year) and incredibly incongruous. At one point the characters read ancient scripture from an iPad with an archaic cover. They later order “nectar” from legendary creatures working in some sort of supernatural Starbucks, while the final battle for Earth takes place in an abandoned fairground. It’s not exactly Rowling.

And that’s the other thing, it’s impossible to watch Percy Jackson without seeing Harry Potter, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger in the central trio. Cirque du Freak can also be seen in Camp Half-Blood, and Twilight in the Forks-esque setting. There is almost nothing in Percy Jackson: Sea Of Monsters that we haven’t seen before, and yet every time the filmmakers strive for some novelty value you can’t help but wish they’d steer back into more familiar waters. After all, this is a film that has characters traversing America — in a dingy propelled by an enchanted thermos-flask — in search of a magic, regenerative rug.

There will inevitably be an audience for Sea Of Monsters (people did buy the book after all) but it’s unlikely to win many new fans. It’s not just ancient Greece and modern America that make for awkward bedfellows; almost every single element seems to jar with another, not least the fact that residents of Camp Half-Blood, which is home to demigods, satyrs and centaurs, might be so prejudiced towards a cyclops. Or that the titular Sea Of Monsters should only contain one single specimen.

Jack The Giant Slayer (2013)

While trading in the Kingdom Of Cloisters, Jack (Nicholas Hoult) sells his uncle’s horse to a monk in exchange for a small bag of beans, having been assured that should he transports them to a particular monastery he will be rewarded handsomely. Jack returns home, unaware that the beans had been stolen from Lord Roderick (Stanley Tucci), the king’s favourite advisor. During a heavy storm, Jack receives a visit from the princess (Eleanor Tomlinson), who has flown the kingdom as she doesn’t wish to marry Roderick. When a bean becomes wet, however, it produces an enormous beanstalk which knocks Jack unconscious and carries Isabelle into the clouds, to a distant world ruled by giants. Aided by elite guardsmen Elmont (Ewan McGregor) and Crawe (Eddie Marsan), he heads up in pursuit.

The Hunger Games (2012)

Katniss Everdeen (Jennifer Lawrence), a fatherless hunter-gatherer from the twelfth outlying district of Panem, is forced to volunteer her life when her sister is picked as tribute for the Capitol’s nefarious Hunger Games. Devised both as penance for a past uprising and a deterrence from future rebellion, the Games pit a boy and girl from each of the nation’s districts against one another in a battle to the death from which only one victor can emerge, an event which is broadcast for the enjoyment or torment of the programme’s various viewers. Mentored by past victor Haymitch Abernathy (Woody Harrelson) and represented by Effie Trinket (Elizabeth Banks), Katniss and Peeta Mellark (Josh Hutcherson) must fight for survival against 46 other competitors, including 12 year-old Rue (Amandla Stenberg) and the formidable Cato (Alexander Ludwig).

It’s difficult, when it comes to things so close to the heart, or whichever obscure area of the brain is tasked with regulating such rampant faboyism, to take a step back and evaluate something as already subjective as the predicted enjoyability of a motion picture. There is, however, a certain level of detachment that can be maintained, a narrative investment that can facilitate the illusion that you are watching something – or at least this one, specific version of that thing – for the very first time. Suzanne Collins’ The Hunger Games is still its own beast, forever preserved in her source novel, but in this instance director Gary Ross has created something different, something more.

Told entirely from Katniss’ perspective, one of the first things to hit you about Collins’ storytelling is its immediacy. From the first page we are in Katniss’ world, her Panem, and from there we view the nation, in all its murky glory, through her scrutinising eyes in relentless real-time. Ross continues this intimacy, utilising an impressive arsenal of close-ups and fraught shaky-cam to immerse his 3D glasses-less audience in a dangerous and unstable environment. Unlike first person narrative, however, Ross does not seek to exclude the rest of his characters, instead using this new medium to explore Katniss’ surroundings and relationships without ever jeopardising her own agency and importance to the story.

Ross’ Panem is worlds away from that broadly sketched by Collins in a child-friendly font. Whilst the books only alluded to the reality faced by those ostracised by the Capitol – at least until the subsequent instalments – the film doesn’t shy away from the destitution and degradation endured by the denizens of the outlying Districts. Washed out and mired in filth, District 12 resembles at best a neglected shanty town and at worst a disturbing parallel with the concentration camps of Nazi Germany. This bleakness is only exaggerated with the arrival of Effie Trinket and her entourage of Peacekeepers, before she remorselessly tears two families apart and whisks the District’s teenage tributes away to a Neverland of excess, a cross between Willy Wonka’s Chocolate Factory and Whoville, where they will most likely end their young lives.

This isn’t the only example of the film taking Collins’ Young Adult novel and turning it into something undoubtedly fit for all ages. President Snow (Donald Sutherland), originally effectively relegated to the sequels, is introduced early, his dealings with the head Games Master Seneca Crane (Wes Bently) reorganised as a surprisingly effective framing device that speaks of a politically-charged world beyond Katniss’ immediate understanding. The first contemporary uprising is also brought forward, adding to the already charged atmosphere as we watch human beings refusing to cheer the death of their friends and family, a haunting impression no amount of juvenile talk about jibber-jabbers and mockingjays can seek to undo.

Thematically, this is a much stronger telling of the story, as an ever-present and ominous unrest asks serious and important questions not only about the running of a fictional future dystopia but of our own lives and society as well. Collins’ issues with reality television and other forms of distraction that aim to mask oppression, poverty and war as they happen, unchallenged, elsewhere remain intact, emphasised here by the parallels that are drawn visually. As a pruned and preened child chases his sister with a facsimile sword, desensitised to the genocide that such an act ultimately endorses, it is difficult not to shudder in ghostly apprehension of its near-inevitability.

Other improvements include a certain narrative efficacy; surprising, perhaps, as Collins’ source novel was already pretty trim, and all the more compelling for it. While some characters might have been omitted they are rarely missed, the newly reshaped relationships and causality also proving more satisfying and economical than their original configuration. The endowment of the mockingjay pin, for instance, has much more resonance coming from Prim (who was herself given it as a gift) than it would have done had it come from a cameoing mayor’s daughter, while the omission of Peeta’s father and numerous hunting sequences come as somewhat of a relief.

Perhaps the most obvious benefits offered by the medium of film, however, are the sensory aids of picture and sound, and both are used to optimum effect. In addition to the naturalistic cinematography, the bleakness of the opening segment and the unreality of the Capitol itself, Ross’ direction facilitates a number of other stand-out scenes and sequences. Inside the arena, the effects of a powerful hallucinogen on an injured Katniss and the dying sight of one particular tribute prove particularly memorable. The sound design, on the other hand, is even more effective, its expert use generating a reality – and, in some instances, subtle horror – that the images alone could not possibly convey. The soundtrack in general is one of the strongest so far this year.

But that is to seriously short-change The Hunger Games‘ biggest asset: it’s characters, brought to life by Ross’ faultless cast. The consistently compelling Jennifer Lawrence leads an outstanding cast, yet outshines them all with her interpretation of Katniss. Strong, stubborn and yet exuding a reluctant vulnerability, Lawrence breathes independence and integrity into a character who could have easily been squandered at the head of a thankless love triangle. Along with Josh Hutcherson’s dependable Peeta, they bring a nuance and dignity to a relationship which rarely delivered as construed on the page. Liam Hemsworth, meanwhile, does his best with a difficult part as boy-at-home Gale.

There are issues, however, and not all of them originate from deviations from the source material. At 142 minutes, it is debatable whether or not the already considerable running time is used to the best effect. While the initial focus on peripheral characters and interactions undoubtedly helped to establish the world and ultimately served the various themes, it also leads to an unfortunate side-lining of the arena-set action. With many of the film’s subplots already due to come into play later down the line, it is entirely possible that they blurring of the other tributes, the undermining of certain hardships and the underdevelopment of a few key relationships was not entirely necessary.

Aside from this narrative imbalance and a few precarious effects (it’s a shame the filmmakers should have such an issue with CGI fire – given the subject matter), however, there is very little that is actually wrong with Ross’ film. Harrowing, intelligent and startlingly relevant, The Hunger Games is both an entertaining film and a strong cinematic adaptation. With the second instalment – Catching Fire – offering much more in terms of action and social commentary, this should be the franchise to watch. See, a whole review and I didn’t have to mention Battle Royale once. Well, twice.

Captain America: The First Avenger (2011)

Turned down by the United States Army as a result of his numerous health troubles and miniature stature, Steve Rogers is left behind when his best friend Sgt. James “Bucky” Barnes (Sebastian Stan) goes to war. Scouted by Dr. Abraham Erskine (Stanley Tucci) at the World War II Modern Marvels of Tomorrow exhibition in New York City, Rogers signs up to a super-soldier programme that might be his only chance to serve his country. Under Colonel Chester Phillips (Tommy Lee Jones) and SSR officer Peggy Carter (Hayley Atwell), he is subjected to Erskine’s serum and transformed into Captain America.

When an act of sabotage ends the programme prematurely, killing Erskine and destroying Howard Stark’s (Dominic Cooper) equipment, Rogers is left behind once more as his superiors return to war. Left to serve his country as part of a star-spangled USO show, Rogers ultimately revokes his celebrity status when he learns of Bucky’s capture and sets off in pursuit of his friend. Aided by Carter and Stark, and tooled up with superior kit, Captain America will have to face off against a powerful new enemy if he is to save Bucky – and the rest of the world – from destruction. Hitler’s Hydra organisation, lead by one Johann Schmidt (Hugo Weaving), has a powerful new weapon, one which might just be a bygone relic of the Gods.

Darkest day, blackest night; just when you thought Green Lantern had served the death blow to a superhero genre buckling under pressure, Marvel returns to cinemas with its propensity for saving the day. Following the excesses of X-Men: First Class, the madness of Thor and the, well, the offensiveness of The Green Hornet, director Joe Johnson successfully brings the genre back to Earth (or as close as it’s ever likely to get) for a pulse-pounding dose of period adventure.

Captain America‘s biggest strength is how much damn fun it is, the setting encouraging comparisons to the very best of Indiana Jones. Though some of the effects smack a little unfortunately of Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow, the film’s zeal more than compensates for a few unfinished pixels. Indeed, like with most of Marvel’s output most of the highlights lie outside the realm of green sceen, with a series of likeable characters giving the film a moral centre of winning dynamic. Tommy Lee Jones in particular steals the show with his quick-witted Colonel, always on hand to temper the inevitable corn with a scathing retort.

When taking a break from the steampunk air-battles, however, the CGI is perfectly apt. Evans convinces as a regular human being as much as he does a shield-wielding super-soldier, the digital muscle-ectamy proving nowhere near as distracting as it might have. Weaving too does a lot with his comic-book Nazi, even if he only truly makes an impression when the gloves – and mask – are off. His Red Skull is a thing of beauty, short-lived but extremely effective. It is just a pity that their relationship, or rather their antagonism, is not further explored. I doubt, however, that this is the last we will ever see of it.

Where Captain America stumbles, however, is in its structuring. Bookended by scenes set in the modern world, and intermittently flitting between states, characters and body masses, Captain America struggles to maintain momentum as it attempts to consolidate several decades worth of comic book narrative into a single movie. While many have praised the final line as surprisingly moving, particularly given the genre, the conclusions (of which there are at least two) lack the dramatic weight of Marvel’s other outings. Though broaching greatness on a number of occasions, Captain America simply isn’t as streamlined – and therefore isn’t as quite as engaging – as Marvel’s other features.

While Captain America might not be able to hold a torch/hammer/repulsor to his superhero peers – Thor is quite simply the better film – it is still a movie of undeniable quality. More fun than Green Lantern and The Dark Knight combined, Captain America: The First Avenger is yet more proof that Marvel still has the monopoly on not only compelling superheroes but quality superhero movies too. With the post-credits Avengers teaser oozing spectacle, potential and – most importantly of all – character, 2012 truly cannot come quickly enough.