SPY-JINKS

MOVIE
Kingsman: The Secret Service
Taron Egerton, Colin Firth 
Director Matthew Vaughn
Review Ray Chan

The best parodies are the ones done with the right amount of homage and humour, and you’ll find no better example than Kingsman: The Secret Service.
   Based on The Secret Service comic book created by Dave Gibbons and Mark Millar, and directed by Matthew Vaughn (Kick-Ass, X-Men First Class), the movie is a pastiche of the secret agent franchise done with deliberate comedy, élan and obvious affection.
    It centres on a British spy organisation staffed by Savile Row-suited toffs, including the impeccably mannered Harry Hart (Colin Firth), who recruits the young son of an ex-colleague for whose death in a Middle East conflict he feels responsible.
    The curiously-named Eggsy (Taron Egerton) is initially rough at the edges and on the cusp of criminality in his London council estate, where he lives with his mum and her violent boyfriend.
    The first part of the movie deals with Eggsy's induction and training, where he's constantly pranked by the typical ineffectual bravado-filled Kingsmen recruits; of course they turn out to be more faint of heart than hardened when the chips are down, while Eggsy shows he has the right stuff.

    Once his mettle is proven and he is signed on, the clichés abound as Eggsy enters an ultra-secret underground world through a false door in a tailor's shop, filled with gizmos and weaponry that any self-respecting espionage emissary  would be proud to own – a deathly signet ring, shoes with a killer blade, a bulletproof umbrella – overseen by Mark Strong as the techie overlord Merlin, the equivalent of James Bond’s Q.

    The villain of the piece is madman billionaire businessman Richmond Valentine (Samuel L Jackson with a comical lisp), whose megalomaniacal vision is to control the world's population through mobile phones, abetted by his martial arts mistress Gazelle (Sofia Boutella), who bears  Oscar Pistorius-style lower limbs with ultra-sharp blades that she uses to great effect in several bloody action sequences.

    There are some great cameos as well. Mark Hamill (yes, him) shows up as a genius scientist, while Michael Caine plays the spy agency’s chief, as opposed to a spy itself, a role he has portrayed many times.
    Harry and Eggsy have to stop Valentine's dastardly plan, involving a blitz of explosions, shoot-outs, thrilling stunts and the rescue of a Scandinavian princess who, by intent or otherwise, resembles a certain Danish queen of Australian descent.

    All in all, Kingsman is dashing fun, what-ho. Every character, every frame, and nearly every line of dialogue is delivered with glee, turning every spy thriller cliche on its head, milking them for maximum amusement.
    Silly and cartoonish, the movie has its tongue firmly and delightfully in its cheek, and will delight as a well-executed mash-up of espionage and true cinematic excitement.


#kingsman

DOCTOR IN THE HOUSE

This review appeared in The West Australian dated February 2, 2015.

CONCERT
Doctor Who Symphonic Spectacular
West Australian Symphony Orchestra
REVIEW RAY CHAN

Suitably for a Doctor Who tribute, the majestic blue-hued Perth Arena gives the impression of being smaller than it looks from the outside.
    Fans who flocked into the tesseract-like structure on Saturday evening could be forgiven for thinking they'd wandered into their own personal Tardis, to be swept into a musical wonderland inhabited by the greatest hits from the good Doctor's TV shows.
    Perth was the second stop of the current Dr Who spectaculars, the shows featuring the music of composer Murray Gold and conducted by Ben Foster, and soprano Antoinette Halloran adding her voice on a few of the pieces.
    Each state supplies its own orchestra and WA is certainly fortunate to be served by the WASO ensemble, one of our busiest performing arts organisations, with a well-justified reputation for excellence, engagement and innovation, and who played throughout without missing a beat.
    In a sign of the playfulness to come, the performance began with a warning from the feared Cybermen for viewers to stay in their seats and to turn off mobile phones.
    Augmented by videos on the massive screens, the dramatic opening score of A Good Man introduced Halloran to the audience, as well as Peter Capaldi, the latest regeneration of The Doctor.
    Appearing through the ensuing mist, the affable Peter Davison, who played the fifth Doctor, narrated with moxie and mirth as he provided information about each piece, while injecting some humour into the proceedings, often at the expense of the sixth Doctor, Colin Baker, who has gained a bit of weight since his appearances in the role.
    The seating arrangement on the floor did seem unusual, with chairs ordered in blocks with generous gaps in between. But it was soon revealed why.
    A multitude of monsters and aliens appeared at various stages throughout the show, meandering between seats and mingling with the guests: my Whovian companion pointed out a Silurian, The Foretold, The Teller, a couple of Ood, Whisper Men, an Ice Warrior and, of course, the Daleks.
    Most of the works represented the grandiose nature of the modern series, enhanced by smartly choreographed lighting routines.
    The Doctor’s Theme spotlighted the first glimpses of the new breed, Christopher Eccleston and David Tennant, only adding to the fans’ elation, while Song Of Freedom allowed the beautiful voices of the WASO choir to shine.
    A tribute suite to those who travelled with the Doctor, The Companions, again featuring Halloran, was well-received, particularly as the screens gave air time to many old friends from throughout the decades.
    Foster, now clad in Davison's Dr Who coat, led a rousing interpretation of The Pandorica Suite, while Fifty-This Is Gallifrey and the Death In Heaven Suite provided an anthemic end to the proceedings.
    Of course, the show wouldn’t be complete without a rendition of, as Davison rightly claimed, the best science-fiction theme of all time.
    Theremins are rarely used instruments but surely their presence has never been more strongly felt than in the introduction of this classic piece, which in fact was written by an Australian composer, Ron Grainger.
    Whoever was picked from WASO to play the sound generator did it well, culminating in a roaring version of the refrain by the whole orchestra and sending fans and followers into raptures, no doubt wishing the Arena was indeed a time box that could whizz them to the future when the next spectacular comes round again.