Nick Bain

Review - Betrayal

nickfbain@googlemail.com () — Mon, 14 Mar 2011 09:22:23 +0000

Betrayal Review

Audiences have long become accustomed to war film after war film set in occupied France during World War Two. As such, Haakon Gundersen’s Betrayal which is based on true events offers a rarer opportunity to look into the lives, loves and loyalties of those in occupied Norway.

We begin in 1943, and the tide of war is turning in favour of the allies. Norwegian business Tor Lindblom (Fridtjov Saheim) has been aiding the Nazi occupiers under SS Major Kruger (Gotz Otto) by abetting and promoting their war and business interests. Both Lindblom and Kruger share the love and titular betrayal of lounge singer and undercover British agent Eva Karleson. (Lene Nystrom)

What follows is a dance of deception and intrigue as all the players balance their romantic aspirations, their desire to position themselves as best they can for the end of the war and their overt or covert patriotism. Things come to a head when the illicit dealings of Lindblom begin to attract unwanted attention in Berlin and the Gestapo close the net on all three protagonists.

It is then that the Norwegian Resistance, led by none other than Lindblom’s brother Svein (Kåre Conradi) make their move, and through Eva’s connections to both men, attempt to smuggle vital plans out to the British to help them co-ordinate an aerial strike against German aluminium factories used to create the feared planes of the Luftwaffe. As events accelerate, Lindblom must chose between his love, his family, his business or his country before time runs out for all of them.

Cynics might look at the casting of this film and know what to expect. The heroine is played by the former lead singer of Europop group Aqua (Of Barbie Girl fame). The villain is played by a former Bond henchman. To do so would be slightly unfair as though slightly melodramatic, neither performance detracts from the piece. The same could not be said of the script which ranges between predictable and utterly contrived, with clunky expository dialogue.

“Do you know what today is?”

“Why yes, It’s our six month anniversary!”

There is a vague notion of the story being related to a young relative from ‘present day America’ but no reason is given for its telling. Moments of sporadic voiceover add little to the story and there seems to be no motive beyond teary-eyed reminiscence as the adoring American grand-daughter who just popped in for a surprise visit watches on obediently.

No attempt whatsoever is made to make occupied Norway look or feel any different to occupied France. We know the genre so well, better perhaps than Gundersen who fails to avoid some of the more ‘Allo Allo-esque’ clichés of ‘Nazi resistance’ films, right down to the Burlesque styled lounge bar, Nazi offices complete with expensive nude paintings and frustrated secretaries and obscure references to what ‘London demands’.

Crucially, the film is treading sensitive ground that really deserved to be more carefully treated. Gundersen betrays flashes of a national shame at the collaboration of Norwegian businessmen with the Nazi regime and its concluding text presents a righteous indignation at the fact that the many who profited from dealings with the Nazi machine were never prosecuted and retained the assets created by the slave labour of POWs.

It seems that the heart of the film would like to have been about dealing with this dark chapter of Norwegian history and perhaps, finding some sort of new perspective upon it. Sadly, the story in its telling offers little but a late night raid on a World War Two prop box supported only by the most predictable clichés of the genre. Against this background, the cast perform as best they can. Praise should go to Lene Nystrom who shows some moments of real empathy in her portrayal of Eva, and Fridtjov Saheim for his self consciously Bogart-like Lindblom. Both did well to mitigate the worst of the clunky two dimensionality of their characters. Praise should also go to Director of Photography Hans Kristian Riise who concocted some memorable images, particularly in the atmospheric night sequences.

Betrayal then, is a film that seems uncertain of its audience. It follows a well trodden path and as such, is far from unwatchable. (There is a reason why certain trends are repeated in genre films) Watching it leaves the sense of a film that had something to say but fearing accusations of banality, heightened the camp war thriller aspects to carry its message and in doing so, clouded out the unique and interesting aspects of this true story with contrived, predictable melodrama. As such, the saddest thing about the piece is that it feels like a missed opportunity to say something meaningful about something important. Doubtless, this opportunity was there for the taking, but it seems that in an ironic echo of his subject matter, in pursuit of commerciality, Gundersen has shied away from the stand he was trying to make.

Rating **

UK DVD release date: 2011

Certificate: 15

Running time: 110 mins

Director: Haakon Gundersen

Starring: Lene Nystrom, Fridtjov Saheim, Gotz Otto,

Genre: Word War Two, Nazi Occuaption

Studio: Optimum Home Entertainment

Format: DVD

Country: Norway

Review - The Living and the Dead

nickfbain@googlemail.com () — Mon, 14 Mar 2011 09:15:48 +0000

Review – The Living and the Dead

Two time periods, two groups of conscript soldiers, one haunted hillside that leads them to their destruction. Kristijan Milic’s The Living and the Dead paints a brutal, uncompromising portrait of these two bloody moments in the history of the Balkans as we see men separated by time but united by grim circumstance fight their way across the unchanging and bloodsoaked lands of Serbia.

Both groups are on the run from superior forces and take shelter in a graveyard as their enemies close in around them and their final battles begin. As their numbers inevitably start to dwindle, the men begin to question the value of their orders and ultimately, their struggle choosing instead to search for something of greater meaning. The survivors begin to be menaced by the ghostly images of their fallen comrades and struggle to come to terms with their visitations and the actions that each man has taken.

There is no specific plot as such. The film offers multiple viewpoints and no particular central character from who’s point of view a story is told. Closest to this would be the dual characters of Tomo (1993) and Martin (1943) both played by Filip Sovagovic as grandfather and grandson. Martin in particular is the everyman moral compass of the piece and in both times he is surrounded by the usual cohort of two dimensional squaddies. One of these, Vielli, (Velibor Topic) the brutal ex-boxer killing machine offers the only other true character perspective.

The rest of the troop are drawn from the war film staples. The cowardly young kid, the cynical weathered officer, the comic relief and from when the battles begin in the first 30 minutes, it is clear that the only real objective is survival. Thus the film transfers from the war genre into something much more akin to survival horror as inevitably, the characters are picked off one by one and the ghostly supernatural element begins to fully present itself.

Clearly aimed at a Croatian/Balkan audience, the film does little to disentangle the various factions at play. In the more modern story, the enemy is simply described as ‘The Serbs’ and ‘The Muslims’. In the past story the enemy is the Serbian Communists and our protagonists are drawn from the Croat State conscripts. This confusion, however has very little bearing upon any enjoyment of the film which carries as a statement nothing more complicated than ‘War is Hell’ and ‘We’re all going to die anyway’.

As the soldiers enter the graveyard area and the ghosts begin to appear, the film enters its strongest moments. The raw psychological effects of being alone and hunted in the dark are delivered compellingly by the ensemble cast who manage to retain the humanity of the soldier in the face of the paranormal twist. The simplicity of the ghosts who appear merely as people who the characters know are dead, staring uncompromisingly at their former comrades allow us to retain the belief that their images are born as much of stress and combat fatigue as from any cursed patch of ground or ectoplasm. This marries with a film that is no gore-fest. The most harrowing scenes of corpses better resemble war correspondent footage than horror film gratuity.

As reflected in the numerous awards at the Pula Film Festival, including best film and director, the films visuals merit the strongest praise. The Croatian location shooting contributes much to the film’s feel and style. A grey, brooding, empty desolate waste, helped only by minimal effects and adds to a sinister, windswept dread that makes soldier after soldier crack under its weight. Effective too is the choice of music, that mirrors the triumphal martial dirges glorifying national pride. Played alongside the dire consequences of extreme nationalism, the irony is unmissable.

The film seems almost to go out of its way not to make sense either of the issues of the two wars or debate their rationale. Such exposition as is offered tends to be devoted to establishing our limited characters and including as many ethnic jibes as possible. This appears to be a deliberate tack and expands upon the films message in presenting the senselessness of conflict regardless of the context. This is further indicated by the casual barbarity eschewed by some but jokingly tolerated by most. There is graveyard humour as items stolen from the slain are then handed on as the platoons are whittled down by enemy action and ghostly occurrences.

In summarising the film, the phrase ‘hard to watch’ has been thrown around by some reviewers. This is an understandable point of view. The film invites us to consider all its protagonists as dead from the moment they appear on screen with its opening text insert:

"We are all dead, only buried sequentially."

That being the case, it can be challenging to feel much beyond a general distaste for warfare as the protagonists begin their inevitable dwindling in number. The experience is greatly enhanced, however by a rudimentary understanding of the conflicts it seeks to mirror. The film is perhaps guilty of not offering enough of a grounding to non Balkans for whom much of its intricacy and allegory are lost.

Taking this into account, the Living and the Dead might make for somewhat heavy going for the interested outsider. As evidenced by its winning reception at Pula, there is a great deal more to this film for those for whom the Bosnian conflict is both all too real and all too recent. For them, one suspects the ghosts take on a symbolism that a foreigner can never truly share.

Rating ***(*)

UK DVD release date: 21 February 2011

Certificate: 18

Running time: 87 mins

Director: Kristijan Milic

Starring: Filip Sovagovic, Velibor Topic and Slaven Knezovic

Genre: War/Horror

Studio: Kaleidoscope

Format: DVD

Country: Croatia

Axis of not so evil

nickfbain@googlemail.com () — Mon, 21 Feb 2011 10:09:21 +0000

After the decade just past, many people in Western countries could perhaps be understood for harbouring a subliminal unease at Islamic nations, organisations and even people. This, if we are honest has not been the occupation merely of the BNP or English Defence League. Islam, in its cartoon-villain portrayal has been 'the bad guy' for ten years or more with little real differentiation between its various strands.

But now we have the opportunity to see much of the Islamic world at its ideological best. What strikes me most about this is the overwhelming bravery, a cousin perhaps of the same conviction however misguided that has made fundamentalist Islam such a dangerous enemy. Any way you regard it, these are people who are willing to die for what they believe in. Now it seems that the peoples of Tunisia, Egypt, Bahrain, Libya and even Iran are turning this most powerful of weapons upon their long entrenched, long unquestioned masters.

It seems that we can respond to this sweeping wave of democratic expression in a number of ways. There is noticeable unease at the 'Real Politic' of the situation. Dictators however awful have provided a stability of sorts and also perpetuated a laziness in our commercially orientated diplomacy. Far easier to understand the whims of one overlord, however eccentric than embrace the messy, complicated, mannered chaos of a democratic government, particularly in its messy foetal stages.

Britain and the US, outward cheerleaders for democracy have been chastened in this expression by the long heralded elections in Gaza which brought Hamas to power. It seems there is no position of response for those who express their championed democratic rights by voting for people we don't like. So Obama and friends sit uncomfortably on the fence, waiting and hoping for the settling of the dust in such a way that their own interests in the region are not compromised. This is not a heartless response. Pragmatism keeps the lights on and means that there is petrol at the pumps.

However, as the Libyan uprising encounters the most cold-blooded regime response yet, the time may be coming when the outside world will have to choose whether to act in support, daring that such an action would be received well by the people and not in the oft painted way of their dictators who claim a sinister Western influence and seek to unite their people behind a xenophobic patriotism. A risk yes, but less so at a time when people are no longer slavishly buying the pantomime posturing of their jilted masters.

As people who generally do not hold our leaders to such account, the answer for now may be to embrace this action ourselves through the same social media as have given oxygen to the popular movements and helped turn whispered discontent into real revolutions. In any case, these new democracies are going to need support and reintegration into the international political and economic communities and we as a people, if not as a nation do not want to be seen as having perpetuated the regimes that are now close to collapse.

In short, just like in the changing countries on our news channels, what we do now as a people and as a country is vitally important. Can we find some of the same great motivation which for us requires no more bravery than to turn on our computers and email our friends and MPs?

Or will our brothers and sisters in the East who have been democratic for all of a week once again put us to shame?

Artistic Limbo

nickfbain@googlemail.com () — Wed, 10 Nov 2010 18:50:45 +0000

I'm sometimes relieved that the readership of this blog is so small as it allows me to be more honest than I would otherwise be. It's been a while since I checked in, and various projects are in the offing.

Next year could be a fantastic one with the possibility of two of my UK feature films going into principle photography. Matchstick Films continues to do good things with my work and fingers crossed for the brave souls we've lost in the funding war.

As such, I find myself doing less writing and more emailing, administration, minor changes, financial treatments, meetings and the odd despairing birthday party as my peers begin to turn thirty.

In times such as these, the mind can wander to that place where we wish for the things we wouldn't admit to wanting but know that, on some level, we need.

'The World is full of Needs!' runs a quote on the wall of a friend of mine, also a freelance pirate and film industry survivor. I begin to suspect that as we get older, those needs begin to align. I find myself perusing flats I can't afford in places I don't know and weighing up whether I would pay an additional fifty pounds per month for a flat with a bath in it.

(I would, as it happens. Like most writers, I love baths but am not sure whether I could truly soak in it knowing it is costing me on average, ten pounds per bath. I would have to have more baths each month to bring their average cost down to an acceptable level and by then I'd be bored of them and look like a raisin)

Wants, needs, desires and how not to inflict them on other people. Perhaps I shall write that book as a way to beat the recession.

More soon!

Anime Review - Sengoku Basara

nickfbain@googlemail.com () — Wed, 10 Nov 2010 18:42:39 +0000

Those who have encountered the series of ‘hack and slash’ video games that shares the name of Itsuro Kawasaki’s anime will know exactly what to expect. Demigod heroes engaged in do or die battle for the future of a war-torn feudal Japan. That the game series has been created by Capcom (who gave the world the Street Fighter franchise) offers some clue to the uninitiated.

There will be fights aplenty but the tone is set by the introductory credits in which a military line up dances eccentrically to the J rock theme tune, conveying a series which does not take itself too seriously.

Sengoku Basara lives up to this reputation, though the story is undoubtedly more vivid and complicated than expectation might suggest. We follow our two contrasting heroes, Date Masamune, the One Eyed Dragon who wields six katanas at the same time and Sandana Yukimura, fiercely loyal young spear fighter and servant of the rival Takeda clan. Our two heroes cross swords right from the word go and forge a bond of mutual respect, one that must culminate in them facing each other in honourable single combat.

Unfortunately for them, fate seems to have other ideas as the many warring factions enter a shifting series of wars and allegiances as the battle for the country, based in part on actual Japanese history, intensifies.

Soon the warring clans lead by their Samurai Lords are forced to try and unite in the face of a new and even greater threat – that of the titular Devil King Nobunaga whose ambition for ‘warrior rule’ of the country can be equated to covering the lands in darkness and indiscriminately butchering their inhabitants.

Masamune and Yukimura are forced to set aside their personal struggle and unite behind their Lords as they try to push back Nobunaga’s marauders.

Whilst the many different clans and protagonists may leave some struggling to keep up, the series follows simple rules. Each clan is headed by a Samurai hero of superhuman power. Each lord has his almost as powerful second, who is sworn to protect the life of their leader and offer candid counsel. Each clan also seems to enlist the services of a ninja - stealthy mercenaries who hurry through the shadows at the bidding of their masters, stopping long enough to shake their heads wryly in amusement at the antics of their Lords.

As anyone familiar with the genre might imagine, there are indeed plenty of battles, from huge army set pieces to deadly single combat between fighters of superhuman strength. What is surprising about Sengoku Basara is the intensity of character definition, and, for lack of a better word the amount of love on display. Aside from the complicated, touching romances woven through the series, the loyalty the characters display for one another is touching and in places moving, rarely more so than in the relationship between Yukimura and his master Takeda who good naturedly pummel each other whilst debating strategy and philosophy. Or that of impossibly attired female ninja Kosuga and her unrequited love for her master, Uesugi Kenshin, whom she was sent to kill. Similarly, the loyalties of the common soldiers whom one always felt for as they are eliminated fifty at a time by the superhuman commanders of their opponents.

A scene between the One Eyed Dragon Masamune and his Second in Command Kojuro, known as The Dragon’s Right Eye is particularly poignant. Kojuro must fight his own master to stop him going into battle in his weakened state and uses Masamune’s blind spot to defeat him.

There are some interesting touches in the series. The evil enemies are conspicuously armed with Western weapons and sentimentalisation of the sword is in evidence echoing the forced opening of Japan to the West in the 1850s. The series places its emphasis on bonds of loyalty, honour, duty and love but is never simplified for doing so. Whilst the final battle and ultimate confrontation are over rather quickly there is plenty to see as a basis for a follow up series due next year. Arguably it might prove even more interesting as the complicated rivalries between characters were put on hold to defeat the self-evidently evil Nobunaga. It is reasonable to assume therefore that series two might contain rather more shades of grey.

The DVD does not contain special features as such, save for the bonus episode further explaining maverick Maida Keiji’s travels with his monkey. The visuals are what you would expect, colourfully rendered in good detail. The sound configuration on the Japanese version is such that the ambient noise and music can drown out the dialogue, though the subtitles are clear and consistent, if not terribly elegant in their translation.

Even taking these issues into account, the series is addictively watchable, funny and packs an emotional punch every bit as powerful as the many physical ones doled out through the thirteen short episodes that pass in a flurry of battles, betrayals and seductions that belay Sengoku Basara’s video game roots.

Rating ****

UK DVD release date: 9th February 2010

Certificate: TBC

Running time: 13 episodes of 25 mins

Director: Itsuro Kawasai

Starring: (Voice) Kazuya Nakai, Sōichirō Hoshi, Tesshō Genda

Genre: Anime – Historical Fantasy

Studio (i.e. UK distributor): Pony Canyon

Format: DVD (put & Blu-ray if applicable in brackets) or Cinema

Country: Japan

Film Review - The Lives of Others (Das Lieben Der Anderen)

nickfbain@googlemail.com () — Wed, 25 Aug 2010 10:52:15 +0100

With an Oscar* to its credit Florian Henckel von Donnersmarck’s 2007 German film drama of life in Stasi East Germany - Das Lieben Der Anderen, or The Lives of Others enjoyed perhaps the best possible critical reception. With von Donnersmarck’s next offering, The 28th Amendment due in cinemas next year it is a timely moment to consider the film that brought such acclaim.

The story follows grim and efficient Stasi Secret Police Captain Wiesler in his task of spying on controversial playwright Dreyman and his beautiful actress lover Christa-Maria. At first, Wiesler sees this work as an opportunity to impress his superiors by exposing Dreyman and his artists clique as subversive enemies of the State, thereby securing his position amongst the Stasi’s elite.

Soon however, the maelstrom of passions, ideas and music he hears through the regime’s hidden listening devices lead Wiesler to see that such things are missing from his own life and that the harsh efficiency of the State is cold comfort. A man used to following orders, Wiesler begins to question his role and to doubt the moralities of a system he is a part of. He becomes almost intoxicated with his subjects to the point that he will risk everything he has when the Stasi net finally closes upon them.

The film is very effective in encouraging its audience to enter into the voyeuristic world of its protagonist. Like Ulrich Mühe’s Weisler, it seduces the viewer through the glimpses of glamour and passion for creativity that burns all the brighter amid the sterile setting of 1980’s East Germany. Iron Curtain Germany is portrayed as a paranoid, militarised state – functional and unjust in equal measure. This gives the film a more timeless narrative feel akin to the patient taut build up of a Polanski classic than a modern commercialised studio beast.

Quickly we learn that the cold apparatus of State control is still subject to the all too human whims of those in power. Sebastian Koch’s writer Dreyman is put under surveillance by a corrupt official seeking to have his way with the glamorous Christa-Maria. It is perhaps fitting then, that the seductive passion of their lives soon becomes the only thing that can save them as Wiesler’s training and even his loyalty begin to buckle under the strain of the freedom of thought, expression and desire emanating from his crackling headphones.

In contrast, the artists too are portrayed almost childlike - flawed yet romanticised individuals unable to contain the passions that threaten to destroy them. They are powerless, yet possessed of more powerful tools to shape human thought than the near Orwellian Thought Police could ever hope to master.

In spite of such emotive and powerful conflict - a clash of artistic abandon and political, doctrinal constraint, the film’s greatest achievement is the unfussy simplicity with which it conveys the story.

Much praise for this belongs to the cast. Ulrich Mühe’s quiet, dignified and at times unsettling portrayal of Wiesler allows for the film to unfold at a steady, metronomic pace that lends much to the tension that builds to climax in the final third. Sebastian Koch is utterly believable as a writer struggling to strike a balance between the revolutionary ideas of his friends and the cosy idyllic domestic bliss of his romance. Martina Gedeck lends a cornered vulnerability to Christa-Maria making her own agonising choices painfully clear without recourse to melodrama.

This understated choice is reinforced by von Donnersmarck’s tightly written script, arresting, contemplative, visual direction and Gabriel Yared and Stephane Moucha’s subtle score which are in combination, suggestive without being overtly manipulative.

Some of the film’s most poignant moments are born out of its context within history. Set in 1985, the Stasi officers’ belief in the unfailing continuity of their regime is never questioned even by the revolutionary artists. Whilst there is both despair and resignation in the face of the actions of the State, no one ever suggests that it might end just four short years later and the fall of the Berlin Wall, when it comes in the film is greeted most prevailingly with surprise.

Perhaps the most enduring suggestion made by the film’s villainous Minister Bruno Hempfh is that artists secretly revel in and long for the days of creative limitation and political constraint because these are the moments in which art is truly powerful, or perhaps more tellingly, the moments in which artists are feared by those in power. History tells us that this fear is justified and The Lives of Others, through the story of Wiesler, the small man, the cog in the machine and his lonely, draughty enlightenment through the stolen whisperings and embraces of two flawed idealists, captures this to perfection. In doing so it justifies the critical reward the film has ultimately and deservedly gained.

Whilst modern masterpiece is a phrase that is coined all to often, The Lives of Others is a genuine contender for such a label. A great story, subtle, artful film-making and characters that leave an enduring impression upon an audience make this everything one could ask for from a cinematic experience.

UK DVD/Blu-ray release date: 2007

For more reviews visit www.subtitledonline.com

Certificate: 15

Running time: 132 mins

Director: Florian Henckel von Donnersmarck

Starring: Ulrich Mühe, Martina Gedeck, Sebastian Koch

Genre: Psychological/Political Thriller

Studio: Lionsgate

Format: DVD (& Blu-ray)

Country: Germany

Congrats to Matchstick Films

nickfbain@googlemail.com () — Wed, 16 Jun 2010 17:26:17 +0100

A big congratulations to Mike and the rest of the team at Matchstick Films on the go ahead for London town - An edgy, surreal action flick set in urban London. I script edited the project back in the day and great to see it all coming to fruition!

Well done guys!

Cannes baby

nickfbain@googlemail.com () — Thu, 27 May 2010 10:07:18 +0100

Just back from Cannes film festival and searching for the words to describe the experience. Artistically, beautiful creative stimulation, amazing films albeit a little heavy on dead baby stories. Too many wonderful pictures to name, though I will try later, I promise!

What struck me more was the 'life'. Everything is expensive there, so much so that you lose some perspective on what you're actually paying out. High rollers in their fast cars, photographers snapping, the red carpet glitz and relentless self congratulation.

Then when the sun goes down, the ugly side truly awakes. People sit in 5 star hotels drinking 150 euro bottles of bubbles as the world's most conspicuous prostitutes file into the lobby as if queueing for school dinners. Kerb-crawlers in two hundred thousand dollar cars drive up to any woman they see on the street. In their minds and behind their tinted windows - everything has a price.

Perhaps it does...

But the dark is rescued by the light that shines out from the amazing and talented people who have come not for the glitz and the yachts but the fight for their project, for the meeting of minds. To challenge and change and forge creative steel in the fire of smart people and ultimately, to create something that truly moves people.

Most of all, to be found in my friends, unafraid to push eachother, each highly skilled in their own way, evenings are a relaxed and stimulating pleasure as minds and projects meet with relentless improvement as their goal.

Sunshine, sea, sand. Bright lights and a cool breeze. Cheap beers and expensive ones. Food to die for and my one abiding memory. Seeing a girl in Egypt's film tent (Every nationality represented) who looked so sad and fed up that her eyes punctured my newbie euphoria like a knife. I don't know why she was so sad. I asked her, but she wouldn't tell me and seemed all the sadder for my asking as the circus rolled on around us.

But she gave me something even in that. Those eyes, burned into my memory, so real, raw... No amount of glamour could shift them, and by proxy, couldn't shift me either.

For that, I am truly glad.

A Kick Ass Centurion

nickfbain@googlemail.com () — Sun, 25 Apr 2010 12:15:52 +0100

With Cannes looming and a week of film meetings to sound intelligent at, I did a catch-up double bill yesterday. As an Cineworld Unlimited Cardholder, I tend to do that thing of turning up and letting the times dictate what movies I see.

It was this process that found me in the audience for 'Centurion', though I was heartened to see that this film was directed by Neil Marshall and made by the same team as did the brilliant 'The Descent' and an all time fave of mine, 'Dog Soldiers'.

As a fan of most things Romano British, I enjoyed the film well enough. Picts are badasses, don't mess with us. The fighting entertains, but the script was not... well, very good. Much of this was down to clunky narration that seemed fairly pointless and gave the film a strange modernistic feel that clashed with its setting. There seemed to be a kind of genre confusion as we were caught somewhere between epic and the more staple Marshall - 'Group of people end up somewhere remote pursued by scary things that pick them off one by one'. His usual effective straight up chlaustrophobic shooting was interspersed with sweeping helicopter shots of men running along mountaintops - ala Lord of the Rings.

The anti-subtle allusions to modern post-imperial values were nauseating, none more so than in the form of the lovely Scottish accented Pict witch who was criminally utilised by way of cringy dialogue all set up to labour the point that 'Not all Picts are bad people and not all Romans are either'. But for a film about people being hit in the face with axes, it does the job, aptly, if not eloquently.

The same could not be said of Kick Ass! Smart, edgy, irreverent, fabulous. Jane Goldman deserves massive credit, not only for being able to live with Jonathan Ross without throttling him in his sleep, but along with Matthew Vaughn writing a simply brilliant screenplay tellingly brought to life in vivid, violent techicolor by the capeable adult cast and the showstealing turn from Chloe Moretz as the tiny purple-clad ninja of death. The film goes to surprising and dark places, wearing the clothes of reality until ditching them where appropriate for 'kicks'.

Amid the flurry of comedic violence are moments of true subtle poignancy which I won't spoil by naming overtly, but this is a very well crafted film in which death is shuffled in with hilarity and dealt card by card and side by side. It shouldn't work, but it does. Fabulous.

Wonders of the Solar System

nickfbain@googlemail.com () — Mon, 12 Apr 2010 21:13:07 +0100

If you've not come across it. WOTSS is just a little bit fabulous. Hosted by the earstwhile Brian Cox, whom women across the board assure me is just a bit delicious... Aparently they'd like to gaze into his eyes and mumble dreamily 'Tell me about wormholes again, Brian...'

This is the only programe besides Star Trek that has ever made me rue my complete innability to become an astronaut. Cox moves effortlessly from topic to topic, casually dismissing speculation of every kind, be it religous, astrological or anything else and replaces it with the best science has to offer which is in every case a damned sight more plausible.

There is something so utterly pleasing about having the greatest questions of creation casually explained by an affable Northern bloke with a handful of photocopied pictures.

Well done BBC for giving us this pleasant way to spend a dull Sunday!