"Materialists" - Review

In the affluent, oppulent world of high society dating in New York City, Lucy (Dakota Johnson) floats among the high-flying clientele as a successful matchmaker. At the wedding of two of her clients (her 9th such wedding), Lucy meets the groom's handsome, sexy, successful, charming and ludicrously wealthy brother Harry (Pedro Pascal), who can be more than just a good client for her. Lucy also bumps into ex boyfriend John (Chris Evans) working as a waiter as he struggles to become a successful actor, and remembers their shared past.

Following up "Past Lives", Celine Song had a monumental task ahead of her: making another movie after the kind of once-in-a-generational maststroke which we'll never get again. Obviously this was never going to be as good as "Past Lives", so for the different kind of movie that it is, it largely works without casting aside what makes Celine Song good: namely emotionally knotted, complex scenes with impeccable double-meaning in its dialogue, and scenes where the actors are allowed to breathe, stretch and say a lot with a little. Here it's more akin to a Jane Austen comedy with its wry humour, subtle wit and delightful interplay between characters as they dance around points and navigate social minefields in code: Pascal and Johnson are excellent here. Evans is allowed to stretch his acting muscles for the first time in years, and makes for a good foil in this love triangle. The classic love triangle and "defrosting materialist" are done well here, with some quite witty dialogue and a sense of longing, need, an intagiable desire, two people talking and interacting through some frosted glass, much akin to "Past Lives". When it brings in a twist in the second act, it is oddly dark for the material on display. Song is fairly deft and classy with how she handles it, and it doesn't feel gratuitous and in fact is a thing to ponder, but it still really throws off the whole affair tonally, it's something of an odd duck to have, especially when they circle back to it in the final act as a 3rd act romcom character beat.
The film's fairly well made and a good romance, with genuinely funny gags, but the 2nd act twist stops me short of fully endorsing it as much as "Past Lives".

"Madame Web" - Review

Paramedic Cassie Webb (Dakota Johnson) has a terrible bedside manner and general awkwardness about her. When she falls into a river and is rescued by her partner (Adam Scott), she realises that she has the ability to see the future! Things get worse, for our plucky little weirdo, when she has visions of three women cosplaying as teenagers (Sydney Sweeney, Isabela Merced, and Celeste O'Connor) being tracked, hunted and murdered by a barefoot goblin named Ezekial Sims (Tahar Rahim), who may have a connection to her past. Webb must go on the run with these kids, master her powers, and find a way to stop him...

Nobody expected this to be good. But I will give it this: it's a lot better than "Argylle".
It's surprisingly coherant, I was following it scene to scene, it was never out and out incompetent, it was merely a bland and forgettable, underwritten exercise in pondering why the writers of "Morbius", "Gods of Egypt", "The Last Witch Hunter" and "Dracula Untold" keep being allowed to commit their works to the screen. The film is almost good when the three girls (superfluous characters, but welcome additions to the proceedings) are giving each other shit, bantering and bandying about with each other. Their characters are underwritten archetypes (O'Connor is the sassy, punky rebellious rich kid, Sweeney is the quiet, meek girl, Merced is the science geek) but with the little material that they have, the three steal the show. Johnson plays Webb with what can only be described as a dare: she deliberately gives the worst possible line reading, layered in sarcasm in every scene, and it kind of works as a massive prank on the makers of the film?
There's little to say about the film, in all honestly. Hyperbolic "content" goblins have their knives out describing this as "the worst film yet", and you and I and even they know that that is not anywhere near the truth. It just washes through you. The 2003 setting (I TOLD you this was going to be a thing!) is never quite prominent enough or timely enough to work, and is relegated to a few uses of a Beyonce poster and a couple of lines here and there though, INFURIATINGLY, they use "Toxic", a song which was not released until 2004. But I'll allow it, because it's "Toxic".
The use of stolen NSA surveillance technology is a cute enough little commentary, but again it's never really used or dwelt upon and is there to help our villain do his schemes. But I did appreciate that I knew what the villain was doing and why, it's you know, worryingly rare? I know that Rahim can act: I've seen "A Prophet", so it has to be a scripting issue.
Adam Scott is a genuine, unironic highlight, even if he's playing "Uncle Ben" for absolutely no reason other than corporate mandated links to a superhero I don't actually like that much but whom Sony are trying to sell a series of movies on teasing his appearance. It's corporate swill, but Scott is a funny and engaging performer, and again the film threatens to have interesting things when it's the girls staying at his place and becomes "Ben Wyatt babysitting some kids".
I honestly love Isabela Merced, and Celeste O'Connor to death and am delighted to see them getting more work and paycheques, and I like Sydney Sweeney from "Anyone But You" (though here she's dressed in a fetishised approximation of a schoolgirl, somebody's kink I'm sure), and I wish the actors in this and director SJ Clarkson all of the best in whatever their future projects are. It never soars, but it never nosedives into oblivion either. It just treads water.

"Fifty Shades of Grey" Review - From the Vaults

 This evening I saw "Fifty Shades of Grey".

To say that I have been looking forward to tearing this movie a new one, is an understatement of Biblical proportions.

First of all, this cinema was packed to the rafters, ever single seat was sold out. That is no exaggeration. The last time this was even close, was at the "Smurfs 2" screening, which should say a lot.

Also, I was one of three men there. One of them was sat next to me and was only here because his partner said she'd take him to the pub afterwards.

This fucking movie.

Fucking Christ.

Jamie Dornan is a man with so little charisma that it's like Chuck Norris playing Patrick Bateman, only his first language isn't English. And he looks like Anton Yelchin if he was made of Lego.

He's so fucking bad. I mean, seriously one of the worst fucking actors I have ever seen. This makes the following sentence all the worse.

Dakota Johnson is genuinely really, really good in this. Not just because she gets her milk cannons out (because only female nudity exists in Hollywood, it seems). She plays it self aware, seeing it all as a joke, and you can tell that she really, really, really hates Jamie Dornan, as they have the chemistry of a fucking block of teak and the most erotic thing is actually her one liners, which are actually well delivered, cute and adorable, in a "I'm shooting down a serial killer" sort of way.

She's never not in control of the situation.

"Mr Grey" is such a fucking wet fucking useless fucking blanket that all of their scenes can be summed up thus:

"I wanna fuck you with masking tape and a riding crop."

"Lol. Cool, weirdo."

"Awwwwwww, c'mon!"

"Can't you, like, use your penis?"

"No."

"Why? Lose it in a fire?"

"I'm too dark, edgy and misunderstood."

"Cool, I'm going to go chill with my dad, who's the partner from 'True South', I'll come back when there's sex shit going on."

The only true chemistry came from two scenes:

Callum Keith Rennie (the partner from 'True South' and Anastacia's dad in the movie) and her funny flatmate, who meet once, but you already know that these two are getting jiggy with it.

Anastacia's mum, and her surprisingly sweet, human relationship with "Bob" (who is mentioned once beforehand, and is genuinely putting effort into this movie) over a bowl of salsa.

The cinematography is good, but the colour pallet (har-de-fucking-har, everything is fucking grey. UNDERSTAND! IT'S FUCKING SYMBOLIC! FUCKING UNDERSTAND!) ruins it.

Though, there were a few true joys:

Hercules Hanson (not his real name) from "Pacific Rim" plays Mr Grey's bodyguard, whose entire role is to stand there looking as if he's tired of Christian's shit. He's fucking great. I was convinced that he and Ms Steele were getting it on, with the sexual tension on screen.

The girl three seats along, who was laughing along with me, and who bonded with me over Sean Connery impressions, and a belief that he was a better fit. She had the following reactions:

(After Christian shows her his stable of crops he bought on eBay)

"Nah, I'm out."

(After Anastacia says no to some of his bondage shit)

"You go girl!"

They kept the line "I'm fifty shades of fucked up." And it's Jamie Dornan saying it. It's as fucking terrible as it sounds.

Seriously, pick any scene from this dull, dull, ineptly underwritten movie, and it's shit.

So, go and see it.

Seriously, it's fucking hilarious.

And way more likeable than the book.