FATALITY ATTRACTION

MOVIE
Mortal Kombat
Lewis Tan, Jessica McNamee, Josh Lawson
Director Simon McQuoid
Review Ray Chan

You’d be surprised to learn that for every person who has played Mortal Kombat – considered one of the best fighting video games of all time – there’s an equal number, or indeed more, who’ve never even heard of it.
    So let’s briefly recap for the uninitiated. At the heart of the game is the tussle between the player and an opponent of his choice in a one-on-one match, involving various combat moves and attacks. The  trademark feature is the Fatality, a finishing move executed against a defeated rival to kill them in a gruesome fashion, some of which have become almost iconic. Indeed, it is often the prime reward for many victorious players, who take macabre pleasure in seeing what form the Fatalities take.
    In the single-player game, the player faces each of the seven playable characters in a series of battles, after which he must then fight in three endurance matches, each of which involves two opponents. After the third endurance match, the player fights the four-armed Goro, followed by a final match against Shang Tsung, the main villain of the piece.
    The challenge for any moviemaker then is to take the simplicity of this fighting platform, and build any sort of storyline around it, incorporating all the various characters, elements, and yes, even the Fatalities. Especially the Fatalities, in fact.
    This 2021 cinematic version of Mortal Kombat follows on from two previous efforts, the second of which was universally panned for its low budget effects, poor plot and endless fight scenes. So this time round, screenwriters Greg Russo and Dave Callaham, director Simon McQuoid and producer James Wan have been careful to learn from previous misjudgments,  pulling out all the stops with the aim of making it the necessary reboot this title required. 
    Here, the lore of the series is brought to a grand and epic scale, showing off the crowded roster of individuals.
    Backed up by some beautiful cinematography, stellar fight choreography and physical stunts that defy logic and gravity, the impressive action sequences brim with energy and excitement, with many based on those found in the video game, such as bicycle kicks and juggling maneouvres.
    It’s replete with lashings of gore, violence, and blood to echo everything that’s a staple of the enduring legacy of this brutal series. There are enough scenes of exploding heads, severed limbs, people split in two, gored bodies and entrail displacements to warrant the extreme R rating, but really, these days the shock effect is minimal because almost everyone has been accustomed to the wizardry that special effects creators can generate.  
    There’s a stronger attempt than in the previous movies to tie up the settings into a cohesive story, although as might be expected, personal development is light and the premise slightly stilted.
    But there’s one definite character improvement which stands out, which truly sets this apart from other video game adaptations where the cast consists of humdrum individuals.
    The scoundrel Kano, played brilliantly by Josh Lawson, has been transformed into a dinky-di Ocker with wisecracking one-liners and a foul mouth that would make a sailor blush.
    The interpretation completely steals the show, bringing pure, unadulterated joy and injecting some much-needed levity at every turn, so much so that when Kano is not on screen, he is genuinely missed. 
    Essentially though, Mortal Kombat is a film crafted almost exclusively for diehard fans, but this time arguably done correctly.
    Despite McQuoid’s claim of taking one step at a time, this movie is clearly planned as a new franchise for Warner Bros, with many Easter egg references and enough bait to set up a sequel should this entry perform well at the box office. 
    And if the wait for a follow-up is too long, surely an interim one-off featuring Lawson as Kano would be worth considering.

*The Australian force is strong in this production. Lawson, McQuoid and Wan all hail from the big country, with most of the movie also shot in South Australia.*

#mortalkombat #universal

NOBODY DOES IT BETTER

MOVIE
Nobody
Bob Odenkirk, Christopher Lloyd
Director Ilya Naishuller
Review Ray Chan

The older moviegoers may recall the 1973 comedy spaghetti western My Name Is Nobody, starring Terence Hill as an unkempt simpleton without a name, but whose façade hid an unerring ability with a gun.
    The premise of an anonymous law enforcer appears to have now been modernised in Derek Kolstad’s Nobody, in which comedy writer Bob Odenkirk trades farce for force, playing a loser who ends up punching above his weight.
    The movie begins by focusing on the humdrum routine of the lead character Hutch, a former feared secret agent who is painted as a failure. His disinterested wife sleeps with several pillows between them, and his son is disillusioned after he refuses to put up a fight against a pair of home intruders.
    When Hutch does finally come out of retirement, it's not because of some profound epiphany nor violent consequence. It’s just because the house robbers took his daughter's kitty cat bracelet, and he doesn't want to let her down.
    And therein lies part of the charm of the film, which has some whimsical undertones to give it warmth. When a bunch of drunken gangsters get on the same bus as a frustrated Hutch and start harassing a girl, he beats them up in a wonderfully choreographed sequence which is all fast, furious and funny, causing the audience to guffaw and recoil in disgust at the same time. 

    Unfortunately for Hutch, one of the injured ruffians is the brother of a Russian mobster named Yulian (Alexey Serebryakov), a crime boss who just likes partying and having fun but isn’t above killing a dude at the smallest provocation. As the film continues, those character quirks fade away until he’s just a routine antagonist dispatching waves of killers to enact revenge on Hutch.
    Watching Odenkirk using all his skills to defend himself – while calling himself just “a nobody” – and gleefully killing Russian gangsters with various forms of firearms is a guilty joy. An unexpectedly amusing recurring theme is Hutch repeatedly giving his backstory to people only to look up and realise they died halfway through the narration.
    Christopher Lloyd is delightful in a supporting role, smuggling in his darker capabilities as Hutch’s father, while a late appearance by RZA as Hutch’s brother is engaging, even though it feels like more could have been done with his character.
    Nobody contains many inspired set pieces and enough bits of vim, verve and viciousness to make it an entertaining experience. Still, the fact that the characters are pretty typical and unsurprising limits the film’s staying power, while the casting of an actor more known for his comedic roles makes every scene feel like it will end with a knowing wink at the camera.
    The film is really kind of ridiculous: but it knows it, which makes it all the more enjoyable.
    *Reviewer's tip: stay for the mid-credits scene.

#nobody #universal

MONSTER OF A GOOD TIME

MOVIE
Godzilla Vs. Kong
Rebecca Hall, Alexander Skarsgard, Kaylee Hottle
Director Adam Wingard
Review Ray Chan

Everyone’s favourite gargantuan reptile, Godzilla, long seen as a friend of humanity, has started to attack the puny homo sapiens and destroy their towns and cities, seemingly without provocation.
    So what’s up with that? In their desperation, the military and scientists call upon help from the supersized simian Kong – who has been held captive in an artificial simulacrum of his homeland, Skull Island.
    And therein lies the basic premise of this epic monster mash, with Godzilla taking on gorilla, the two creatures squaring off for the alpha title.
    Indeed, it’s not long into the film before the commotion starts, as director Adam Wingard takes the audience up close to the encounters: every punch, every growl, every movement taken in anger, quite unlike previous instalments in which action is obscured behind dust, debris and deluge. There’s even a nod to the original King Kong movie as the oversized ape jumps from skyscraper to skyscraper, in scenes shot in Queensland, no less.
    This the fourth film in this monster universe (after 2019's Godzilla: King Of The Monsters, 2017's Kong: Skull Island and 2014's Godzilla), and one in which the primordial protagonists get the most screen time.
    As such, personal human relationships and characterisation take a back seat, unlike the initial chapters of the franchise when there was an underlying moral conundrum of whether the kaijus should be kept alive to balance the forces of nature.
    That being said, the standout performer is undoubtedly Kaylee Hottle as Jia, a little girl who can communicate with her primate pal, which gives this movie the right amount of heart. The young actress comes from an all-deaf family in real life and steals the show with her charm, innocence and genuine use of sign language.
    While the story won’t win any Oscars, the movie definitely lives up to its title in every way - monster-size entertainment worth catching on the biggest screen possible.


#godzillavskong  #universal 

LABOURED LABOUR OF LOVE

MOVIE
Wonder Woman 84
Gal Gadot, Chris Pine, Kristin Wiig, Pedro Pascal
Director Patti Jenkins
Review Ray Chan

This year of living dangerously has been sparse in terms of major superheroes gracing the big screen. Even Birds of Prey focussed on minor league characters battling common criminals who were certainly not in the cosmos-shaking leagues of Thanos and Darkseid.
    Ironically, after a golden period of box-office dominance, the one thing DC and Marvel’s greatest heroes couldn’t defeat was a pandemic.
    But now, as the gruelling past 12 months close, one comic book character has emerged like a true hero to defy the odds to make it to the big screen and rescue 2020 from total misery: Wonder Woman.
    Director Patty Jenkins embraces the same essence of innocence and optimism that she harnessed for the 2017 predecessor, illuminating the DC Extended Universe that was once so mired in morally grim seriousness and visually murky settings.
    Although much of the material seems over the top in its preachiness, it’s essentially lifted from the original comics that first enthralled a generation of young readers, embracing the inherent goodness, naivety and sincerity of its central hero. Also thrown in are some nuggets to excite the fanboys, such as the heroine’s invisible jet and the employment of her golden lasso as a true weapon.
    In the midst of political unrest in the US and COVID-induced chaos, it’s clear that Jenkins feels even more empowered this time around to hold firm to Wonder Woman’s intrinsic spirit: that she is a bulwark of truth and honesty, whose physical strength is complemented by the warmth, love and generosity that she radiates.
    Jenkins’ understanding of Diana Prince’s true power is woven firmly into the DNA of Wonder Woman 1984, shining through in its subtle revolutionary imagery and the themes that pit her against Pedro Pascal's shady Maxwell Lord.
    The sequel fast-forwards Diana several decades to the mid-80s, with the immortal character looking as hale and hearty as ever, but still mourning the loss of Steve Trevor (Chris Pine), who died many years before during the war in which the first movie took place.
    But somehow Steve is resurrected, and it all ties in with a magical artifact that is the focus of the story. To reveal more would spoil the movie, but suffice to say it throws up a moral conundrum that is not extrapolated upon.
    Nevertheless, combined with the film’s Washington DC setting, there’s a clear allegory and reference to the present day Trumpian regime, with the smarmy Lord even proclaiming “I’m not a con man… I’m a television personality”.
    The movie also snares in Kristin Wiig's Barbara Minerva — a nerdish geologist who eventually transforms into the Cheetah, one of Diane’s arch-nemeses from the comics.
    The encounter with the villainous vamp results in some well-choreographed battle scenes, but coming as it does after an intense confrontation with Lord, seems anticlimactic, and really serves only to extend the film by several lengthy, and perhaps unneeded, minutes.
    And wait, there’s more: just as the more restless viewers feel the film is nearing its end after more than two hours, it drags on further with image after image of Diana riding the air currents, flitting through the skies and riding lightning. Perhaps the warrior’s ascension skyward is a symbol of her pursuit of changing the world for the better, but too much is too much.
    That being said, it’s apparent Jenkins recognises the power of the imagery she’s committing to the screen, exemplified by the theme of watching a young girl transformed into action hero, impressively telegraphed by a jubilant opening sequence in which a young Diana competes in an Olympic-style Amazonian contest.
    Undeniably though, the heart and soul of Wonder Woman 1984 is  Gal Gadot, whose grace, goodness and femininity still feels refreshing amid a crowded landscape of ripped male heroes.
    WW 1984 is far from perfect. But despite some of the shortcomings mentioned, it succeeds in delivering the blockbuster thrills that 2020 has sorely missed.
    And hokey though the message is, it offers the hope that humanity may just carve out a brighter future for itself.
 

#wonderwoman84#   #buzzmarketing#

AND THE SINGERS SANG THEIR SONGS

MOVIE
The Bee Gees: How Can You Mend a Broken Heart
Director Frank Marshall
Review Ray Chan

This reviewer will say it here and now: the Gibb brothers rank up there among the top melody-makers in modern contemporary music history, easily rubbing shoulders with the likes of Rodgers and Hammerstein, Lennon-McCartney, Andrew Lloyd-Webber and Burt Bacharach.
    While their lyrics may arguably fall short on closer scrutiny, their abilities to craft lilting tunes and gorgeous refrains are almost unparalleled.

    It’s almost criminal that the Bee Gees continue to be dismissed by self-opinionated critics who consider themselves too cool to be associated with a group whose members had more talent in the tips of their fingers than most humans. This documentary, directed by Frank Marshall, may go some way in casting the Gibbs in a more appreciative light.

    Most of us who live in Australia know the basic history of the wonder trio: how they came out here at a young age, cut their teeth on the local scene, and went back to the UK and ensuing superstardom and disco infamy.

    This revealing narrative goes a step further in exploring those developments. It’s less of the usual angle you might expect (i.e. we had them all wrong!) and more of a reckoning with the profound degree of artistry and accomplishment that should be the last word on any Bee Gees story.

    The movie is also a unique consideration of the rise and fall of popular figures, and how they learn to live with it.

    Spending almost no time on the Gibb brothers’ time in Australia, the movie instead heads straight into how success and fame was achieved through raw determination: Hugh Gibb, the father of Barry and twins Robin and Maurice, was a musician who simply believed his sons’ sublime harmonies and knack for songwriting deserved as much or more attention than, say, the Beatles.

    He audaciously wrote to and offered up his cheerfully ambitious offspring to Beatles manager Brian Epstein, who then handed them over to a subordinate, Robert Stigwood. The rest is pop music history.

    Marshall’s film succeeds by featuring interviews with the musicians and producers associated with the Gibbs, as well as the brothers themselves. We get to see and hear seminal people behind the scenes, such as producers Arif Mardin and Albhy Galuten, and the oft unheralded members of the band during the golden years: guitarist Alan Kendall, drummer Dennis Byron, and the under-rated keyboardist Blue Weaver, who contributed heavily to many of the group’s offerings.

    With archival footage and music cues that will invariably lure you out of your chair (or have you choked up during those achingly perfect chord progressions in the band’s ballads), The Bee Gees insists the Gibbs’ musicianship and prolonged success is as impressive as anyone in the rock pantheon.

    Even before the mid-70s, with masterpieces such as To Love Somebody, Massachusetts,  I Started a Joke, Run To Me, and How Can You Mend a Broken Heart, their standing in the music annals was already assured. 

    The footage and music from the band’s initial dalliance with fame is indeed more fascinating than the Saturday Night Fever superstardom and unwarranted backlash that lurked ahead. The documentary features several musicians of note  – Eric Clapton, Coldplay singer Chris Martin, Oasis’ Noel Gallagher, Nick Jonas, Justin Timberlake, to name just a few – all of who share a love, admiration and respect for the Gibb heritage and legacy.

    Chronicled also is how when working with Mardin on the song Nights On Broadway, Barry was pushed to improvise near the song's end, eliciting a sonic falsetto he never knew he had. That, more than anything, put the Bee Gees' stamp on popular culture — a new sound which led to a level of fame and riches the brothers never imagined, but also inadvertently became synonymous with the disco movement, which started to become increasingly criticised.

   The brothers were hurt and confused by the sudden backlash to  Saturday Night Fever and their input to it; record companies started dropping disco acts, and everyone’s gaze was about to turn toward MTV.

    But genius doesn’t lie hidden. The brothers reinvented themselves once more, this time as master collaborators and surefire love-song wizards writing for others, including brother Andy (three No 1s), Barbra Streisand (Guilty, Woman In Love), Dionne Warwick (Heartbreaker), Samantha Sang (Emotion), Diana Ross (Chain Reaction, Experience), Celine Dion (Immortality) and Dolly Parton and Kenny Rogers (Islands In The Steam, Eyes That See In The Dark).

    Somewhat inexplicably, the doco completely ignores the triumphant resurgence of the band in the late 80s and throughout the 90s, when they stormed back into the charts and found a new legion of fans (with songs such as One, You Win Again, Alone and For Whom The Bell Tolls), although there is mention of due respect when they were inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in 1997.

    It also skims over the deaths of Maurice and Robin all too quickly, yet their occurrence certainly adds to the recurring theme of loss, poignantly wrapping up the restrospective.

    “I can’t honestly come to terms with the fact that Robin, Maurice and their younger brother Andy are not here anymore. I’ve never been able to do that,” Barry says.
    “I’d rather have them here and no hits at all.”

#beegees# #nbcuniversal#

INVISIBLE WOMEN

MOVIE
The Invisible Man
Elizabeth Moss, Oliver Jackson-Cohen
Director Leigh Whannell
Review Ray Chan

The Blumhouse studio is notoriously hit and miss, with the stale Fantasy Island the most recent casualty, bombing on all levels.
    But when it’s good, it’s very very good, exemplified by Universal’s latest entry in its classic horror cinematic universe, The Invisible Man, which follows on from the first movie in the series, The Mummy.
    Screenplay writer and director Leigh Whannell recognises that superficial shock and awe seem to be remnants of the past these days, and looks elsewhere for the scares. Indeed, filmgoers are now so used to special effects that not even the grisliest of made-up monsters can inflict more than just the feeblest of frights.
    The real horrors are the ones that do not disappear when the lights come up, those that lurk just outside the theatre doors, and, as the movie’s name metaphorically suggests, lie invisible within the community.
    That’s where this offering, like its stablemate Get Out, are so effective, as Whannell injects the classic H.G. Wells novel with verisimilitude and relevance.
    The story involves Cecilia (Elizabeth Moss), who has recently escaped her abusive boyfriend, optics scientist Adrian Griffin (Oliver Jackson-Cohen), and is now staying at the house of her friend James and his daughter.
    When Cecilia learns from Adrian’s brother that he committed suicide and left her several million dollars, it seems that she is safe, but still feels uneasy as she is tormented by an unseen attacker.
    Cecilia is convinced that Adrian is somehow still with her, but no one believes her, including her friends and her sister Alice. Is Adrian indeed haunting her from beyond, or is there something more sinister afoot?
    The camera floats from scene to scene, imbuing a sense of dread and foreboding in even the most ordinary settings.
    The nature of the antagonist is such that the audience never knows where the next attack is coming from, even when it’s looking right at it, and so the scares evoke real tension and fear – somewhat akin to guessing when the shark would strike next in Jaws.
    At the crux of the matter is the issue of domestic violence – the real invisible menace here – and the movie’s impact is certainly made that much stronger because of current events involving Harvey Weinstein, and closer to home, the Hannah Clarke tragedy.
    Indeed, in many cases of violence in the home, it's often the victimised females whose plights go unseen. Those who have experienced this kind of trauma may feel uncomfortable as the film may bring those feelings to the fore.
    But while the fears under the spotlight are real, The Invisible Man uses them as fuel for its effectiveness, never mocking them, and always taking them seriously.
    As thoughtful as it's entertaining, as disturbing as it's frightening, the movie stays with you after you leave the cinema, proving its true worth indeed as a horror offering par excellence.

 #theinvisibleman#  #universal#

SHINY JEWELL

MOVIE
Richard Jewell
Paul Michael Hauser, Kathy Bates
Director Clint Eastwood
Review Ray Chan

BASED on true events, this movie recounts the cautionary tale of Richard Jewell (Paul Walter Hauser), the security guard who made national news in 1996 – first as a hero, when he discovered a satchel of bombs in Atlanta’s Centennial Park during the Summer Olympics and helped lead spectators away from the blast zone, then as a villain, depicted as a frustrated law enforcement wannabe who might have planted the explosives in order to glorify himself as a saviour.
    Jewell is a dreamer obsessed with carving out a career in the police force, painstakingly conscientious in his endeavours to maintain law and order, even going beyond his duties to targeting traffic offenders while employed as a college security officer.
    As a chunky, solitary and awkward individual still living at home with his mother (Kathy Bates), he became a suspect simply because the FBI believed his profile suited that of a tyro terrorist who wanted his 15 minutes of fame.
    The movie takes viewers through the media circus that enveloped Jewell and his small circle of family and friends, including the lawyer he hires to defend him, Watson Bryant (Sam Rockwell).
    Big and boyish at the same time, he exudes an aura of naivete and innocence, as he comes to grips with his new-found fame, initially disbelieving that he is seriously being considered a person of interest.
    The defining characteristic of Hauser’s performance early on is an earnest eagerness to help in the investigation in any way he can, an attribute that is quickly taken advantage of by FBI agents, who – led by the uncompromising Jon Hamm – believe Jewell of such low intellect that they try to prise a signed declaration of guilt from him.
    While initially unfailingly deferential, insisting on the existence of a professional kinship with his persecutors – even as they conceal their snickers at his references to “cop-to-cop” camaraderie – the burly babe in the woods eventually comes to realise the contempt in which he’s held, an epiphany that is emotionally heartfelt and poignant.
    Thanks to the resilience of the prickly Bryant, though, Jewell gradually gains a semblance of self-worth, while quickly losing faith in the religion of authority.
    Hauser’s portrayal of the child-like titular character is wonderful, and viewers cannot help but warm to the only son who just wanted to serve on the side of the law and make his mama proud.
    The movie ends on a melancholy note when, several years later, Bryant tells an exonerated Jewell – who has made his way back into a police desk job – that the real bomber has confessed to the crime.
    But he doesn’t show any satisfaction, his capacity to participate in the system forever disturbed.
    Gone is the ambitious swagger of the campus cop, now disaffected to the point of simple self-reflection, and questioning himself if he really is content to wear the badge.

#richardjewell #buzzmarketing#

A WIN FOR QUINN

MOVIE
Birds of Prey
Margot Robbie, Ewan McGregor
Director Cathy Yan
Review Ray Chan

THE eccentric Harley Quinn (Margot Robbie) has broken up with her psychopathic lover, the Joker, with whom she had a relationship in 2016’ mediocrely-received Suicide Squad.
    And now, without the big J’s protection, the scatter-brained Harleen Quinzel faces a life confronting previous enemies ready to cash in on karma, to the extent that she can’t even eat an egg sandwich without being pursued by a variety of riff raff that she has managed to offend in the past.
    That’s the basic setup as director Cathy Yan jumps around haphazardly in time, from mere hours ago to several weeks before, and then even further back to ‘80s Sicily, as she tries to introduce the players in this all-female ensemble.
    Surrounding Harley on centre stage are Dinah Lance/Black Canary (Jurnee Smollett-Bell), an employee of the movie’s villain, Roman Sionis (Ewan McGregor); Renee Montoya (Rosie Perez), a detective whose accomplishments go unrecognised; young pickpocketing thief Cassandra Cain (Ella Jay Basco); and The Huntress (Mary Elizabeth Winstead), a staple DC Comics character given a light-hearted treatment in the movie, and the recipient of many comedic scenes.
    Although the adventure is set in Gotham, there's no appearance of a certain caped crusader, or even the estranged prince of clowns. Which is a good thing, for there is little need for such cameos.
    Certainly, there are some frustrating plot inconsistencies. However, such maladroit machinations can be overlooked when Birds of Prey makes it abundantly clear that fun is on the menu.     
    Keeping the shortcomings of the storyline at bay becomes a lot easier thanks to the cast’s performances and the multiple running gags that stick their landing.
    Robbie’s frenzied energy suffuses life, but Ewan McGregor’s tongue-in-cheek flamboyant take on Sionis – as Black Mask, who’s in a complicated relationship with henchman Victor Zsasz – is a scene-stealer.
    Despite the high level of candy-coated fun, the movie earns its R-rating with its forays into violence. Harley loves crunching bones and smashing people with baseball bats and carnival mallets. The Huntress lives for stabbing opponents and slaying with crossbows. Zsasz is a sadistic creep with a penchant for skinning flesh and collecting human faces.
    And yet the combination of whimsy and wildness works far better than it should. Eventually, the narrative ties the plot threads together to deliver a satisfying finale, with the cast finally getting to play off each other as a dysfunctional unit.
    But there’s a feeling that the story could have been told much better without the Tarantino-style structure that requires some work on the viewer’s part to stitch various sequences together.
    As well, most of the characters are only fleshed out minimally, as they’re only developed as much as can be done in an hour and 49 minutes.
    Still, Harley and the gang deliver a high-level of entertainment to the proceedings, and offers up an enjoyable cartoonish romp that whets the craving for the next ladies’ night out.

#birdsofprey  #buzzmarketing

CAT'S BREAKFAST

MOVIE
CATS
Francesca Hayward, Judi Dench
Director Tom Hooper
Review Ray Chan

THE movie version of Andrew Lloyd Webber's long-running musical (based of course on TS Eliot's poetry) has finally made it to the screen, after much-publicised negative reaction to advance trailers.
    Using "digital fur" technology, the film turns its star-studded cast into singing, dancing kitties, a “weirdness” factor that caused most of the early uproar.
    Those of a certain vintage will remember a cartoon called Clutch Cargo, which superimposed live-action human lips over the animation. It caused me nightmares as a child, and watching this new creation had the cold sweats flowing once again.
    But if viewers can somehow overcome this unnatural countenance, they may actually find themselves enjoying the adventures of the tribe of cats called the Jellicles, who gather together for a (fur)ball and celebration.
    The rhythmic nature of Eliot's poems had long been considered excellent material for musicalisation, as the style was reminiscent of that used by popular lyricists. Lloyd Weber had first applied melodies to the words as a pet project back in 1977.
    If you’re not familiar with the story, the felines include the feisty Bombalurina (Taylor Swift), upper-class "fat cat" Bustopher Jones (James Corden), old Gus the theatre cat (Ian McKellen), lazy but agile Jennyanydots (Rebel Wilson), flashy Rum Tum Tugger (Jason Derulo), and formerly glamorous outsider Grizabella (Jennifer Hudson). Idris Elba adds some spice as the villainous Macavity, while Francesca Hayward plays the abandoned small white kitten Victoria, a newly-created character.
    Many of the Jellicles are vying to be selected by their matriarch, Old Deuteronomy (Judi Dench), to rise up to the Heaviside Layer, which is essentially what the cats consider heaven. To be considered, they participate in an Idol style competition, an annual ritual which provides the platform for the many song-and-dance routines.
    The most well-loved composition of course is the beautiful Memory, which Hudson screams out throughout the alleys as if she's trying to hack out a hairball, begging to be brought back into the clan and wet-nosing it profusely like a pampered puss in director Tom Hooper's preferred one-take-only style.
    The soundtrack also reminds this reviewer that despite the show’s long-running stage success, the music is not among Lloyd Webber’s best, with many discordant refrains not quite in the same league as the afore-mentioned showstopper.
    The actors generally don’t disappoint, although they have to make do with what they're given. It's hard to keep a serious face when a decorated thespian as McKellen starts to meow and laps at milk. Dame Judi proves she can carry a tune (and indeed had been cast as both Grizabella and Jennyanydots in the initial stage version). Bombalurina gets everyone high on catnip while riding on a glowing half-moon, and Bustopher cavorts through a garbage can and feasts on trash. 
    Wilson, meanwhile, does her acting resume no favours as she remains typecast as a plus-size, goofy, happy-go-lucky character. But she does feature in the movie's most disturbing moments: treating rodents with human faces as her own pets, and choreographing goose-stepping cockroaches, some of whom she actually eats.
    Mind you, the dancers' sensuous movements, throbbing tails and furry cat butts can create curious stirrings in the mind. The male dancers are for all intents and purposes naked, but have been digitally spayed, leaving nothing but flat nether regions. And, in trying too hard to emulate pussy proclivities, the actors gracelessly stick their legs into the air, thankfully not proceeding to rear-end sniffing and worse.
    Some observers believe that a Pixar-like animated version of Cats would have done the musical better justice than this experimental anthropomorphic exercise, yet bizarrely, this live-action interpretation is just so bewilderingly out of the ordinary that it has an allurement of its own.
    Not quite the cat’s meow and far from purr-fect ... but five paws out of ten for its sheer outlandishness.

#CATSmovie# #NBCUniversal#

STELLAR GREATEST HITS ALBUM

MOVIE
Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker
Adam Driver, Daisy Ridley, Mark Hamill
Director JJ Abrams
Review Ray Chan

I'M old enough to have caught the first Star Wars movie back in 1977, when, with three other intrepid souls in a near-empty Cinema City theatre (now defunct), I braved this space opera which no-one had heard of, curious to find out if it was any good.
    Was it ever. Within minutes of the opening crawl and being swept away by the massive Star Destroyer that covered the screen, I was hooked, like millions of others throughout the world were, introduced to the fertile imagination of George Lucas.
   It's almost hard to believe that now, more than 40 years later, the ninth instalment of the franchise brings closure as the Skywalker arc comes to an end, while new chapters unfold on TV streaming services, Baby Yoda and all.
    Even more than the last two entries, this one feels made specifically for the Star Wars diehards, who have long chided the use of complex plot twists to confuse and compound proceedings (as in the poorly-received prequels).
    Heeding their requests, director and Lucas protege JJ Abrams directs with tunnel vision, never wishing to experiment beyond what’s expected in a Star Wars story and running the risk of infuriating the fan boys.
    The result is a nostalgic and sentimental production that isn’t concerned with breaking new ground as much as it is with bidding farewell. It coasts along without portent nor provocation, keeping its eye on the prize, tying up loose ends and giving followers one last chance to say goodbye.
    You know how it begins: a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away. The galactic rebels, in this case the Resistance, are evading the evil forces of the First Order, marshalled by self-declared Supreme Leader Kylo Ren (Adam Driver).
    Leading our heroes are General Leia (the late Carrie Fisher) and commander Poe Dameron (Oscar Isaac), who's given more screen time this time round than his compatriot Finn (John Boyega), who seems to have been shunted into the background.
    Meanwhile Rey (Daisy Ridley) has been secluded and continuing her training in the ways of the Force, on her journey to become a Jedi knight. But she’s pulled back into action by Poe, after a mysterious message of revenge is broadcast by a surprisingly resurrected Emperor Palpatine (Ian McDiarmid), who also threaten's Ren's hold on power.
    For most of the time, this latest chapter does little to expand the story. Oddly, despite running for two hours and 22 minutes, it still has the feeling of being cramped, with Abrams rushing along to finalise destinies, giving us long foreshadowed showdowns and bringing back some cherished favourites who we know we will never see again.
    Many of the plot details are basically updates of old Star Wars elements. Indeed, the opening half-hour is an unapologetic mash-up of previous setpieces, characters and plotlines (the Millennium Falcon at light speed; dogfights around gorges; cute droids; banter over chess; military superiors with hands clasped behind their backs; giant subterranean worms). Palpatine has gathered a fleet of Star Destroyers now all equipped with planet-destroying lasers, able to annihilate planets like the Death Star used to do. And once again, the Resistance has to regroup to launch a massive last-ditch assault to destroy this and other dangers posed by the Order.
     All this is piled atop the key focus of the story, which is Rey’s continuing transformation from scavenger to Jedi, and her evolving clash with Ren, estranged son of Leia and Han Solo - who he killed in Force Awakens - and is tapped by Palpatine to become his new student.
    The special effects are fittingly stellar, CGI bombardment notwithstanding, including a lightsabre duel between Rey and Ren on the wreckage of a familiar landmark as enormous waves of water loom in the background.
    Abrams uses unused footage of Carrie Fisher from Force Awakens to depict the final moments of Leia: and her eventual departure, while abrupt, provides an affectionate exit for the character.
    The Emperor spends his time sitting in a dark chamber and later levitates before a coliseum filled with anonymous, hooded devotees of the Sith, who don’t do anything even as the world around them crumbles before the Rebels' onslaught.
    Like many a final sequel, the last act of The Rise of Skywalker is a mad rush to shut up shop, with a climax comprised of yet another gargantuan space battle, but Abrams finds space to include some hints of romance and drama, including a kiss that is the film’s great shocker.
    On the whole, the movie delivers spectacular sights and moments that will delight those who dearly love this world according to Lucas. And capping off the trip down memory lane is the return of composer-conductor John Williams, to score yet another Star Wars instalment.
    And so it's a fond adieu for Luke, Han, Leia and Chewie, and various allies many of us have grown up with. The ultimate scene in fact serves as a lovely homage to the Star Wars legacy, shot with the kind of nostalgic pleasure missing from the livelier moments.
    All in all, it's been a helluva ride, as this chapter concludes on an emotional high. But while it definitely ends with more than a whimper, it also begs the question of whether further episodes are needed.
    The book is finished. We really don’t have to visit this odyssey again. Although, cynically, when the box-office count comes in, these nine parts of the roster might well be extended to 12.

#starwarsriseofskywalker  #natashalouiseenterprises

PROS AND CONS

MOVIE
The Good Liar
Helen Mirren, Ian McKellen
Director Bill Condon
Review Ray Chan

WHEN a movie is titled The Good Liar, we already suspect from the start that things are not going to be quite what they seem.
    And within the first 10 minutes, it does seem pretty predictable how things might eventually wind up.
    Indeed, critics might even point out that the plot suffers from the way developments appear to be telegraphed, but ultimately there is really a deeper, more sinister side to the story, which unfolds like a set of Babushka dolls.
    The film starts with two strangers of senior years, Betty McLeish (Mirren) and Roy Courtnay (McKellen), out on a dinner date.
    Roy is in fact a con artist, and despite his charm, it’s quite clear that even while he claims piously that he “despises dishonesty above all else,” his life is one big lie.
    The genial, trusting Betty appears to be besotted by Roy, so much so that within days she’s let him move into the guest room of her suburban home, despite the protests of grandson Stephen (Russell Tovey).
    Along the way, Roy and his partner-in-crime Vincent (Jim Carter) conspire to convince Betty to transfer all her life savings into a joint account, which they duly expect to drain.
    But is the demure dame really that naïve?
    Agreeing to go on a holiday with Roy, she strangely expresses a preference for Berlin, and it’s on this trip to Germany that things start to get complicated, and the mood darkens so much it almost becomes another film.
    Ultimately, what makes the movie click despite its story shortfalls is the consummate and seemingly effortless performance of the two main leads, who are an enormous pleasure to watch, both individually and playing off each other on screen – almost unbelievably – for the first time in their decades-long careers.
    Mirren and McKellen never dither, and their eloquence, elegance and ability to register multiple subtle changes of emotion is consistently impressive.
    Indeed, they’re the best kind of liars: actors playing actors pretending not to be actors, and doing it with panache and professionalism.


#thegoodliar #buzzmarketing