Today's Review: Skiptrace

Eindelijk weer eens een review op mijn blog. Tekort aan tijd, je kent het wel. Dit keer gewoon rechtstreeks gekopieerd van de bron, want om nou elke keer mijn mening nog eens dunnetjes over te doen in het Engels vergt te veel extra inspanning. En alleen een link staat ook zo knullig.

Voor het eerst in lange tijd zijn Jackie Chans behendigheidskunsten weer te bewonderen in de Nederlandse bioscoop. Uiteraard was de Chinese legende in de tussentijd op eigen bodem in een hoop soortgelijke actiefilms te zien, maar de bioscoopreleases bleven beperkt tot de Aziatische en Amerikaanse markt. Skiptrace betekent bij ons dus een comeback voor de onderhand tweeënzestigjarige actiester, maar dat zal Chan zelf niet als zodanig ervaren. Voor hem is er in de tussentijd weinig veranderd. Ook zijn nieuwste film geeft aan dat de zaken zo veel mogelijk hetzelfde gebleven zijn. De fans weten wat dat inhoudt: doldwaze martial-artsactie in een flinterdun plot dat er vooral toe dient Chans malle fratsen met veel knipogende humor te etaleren. Dat is het publiek overal ter wereld van hem gewend, dus waarom die formule aanpassen? Skiptrace geeft echter aan dat Chan toch eens verandering moet opzoeken, want de beperkingen van die formule dringen zich op in dit actievehikel dat niet bepaald een hoogvlieger blijkt in 's mans oeuvre.

Skiptrace is een 'buddy movie' van het zuiverste soort, het type waaruit het merendeel van Chans filmografie bestaat. Chan speelt Bennie, een oude rot in het politievak, die zich al jarenlang stukbijt op een zaak rond een schimmige Chinese drugsbaron, maar daarin weinig steun krijgt van zijn superieuren. Als hij echter het pad kruist van de charmante Amerikaanse oplichter Connor komt de zaak in een stroomversnelling. De dief heeft te veel gezien en is tot doelwit verworden van de misdaadbende die Bennie op het spoor was. Als diezelfde criminelen vervolgens Bennies peetdochter ontvoeren om hem te dwingen Connor in te rekenen, is dat het begin van een avontuurlijke trektocht over het Aziatische continent, waarbij ook de Russische maffia zich laat gelden. Het soms wat verwarrende plot is daarbij uiteraard van minder belang, ondergeschikt aan de bonte aaneenschakeling van kleurrijke figuren en spectaculaire actiescènes op exotische locaties. Althans, zo hoopten de producenten.

Onder die makers bevindt zich ook regisseur Renny Harlin, coryfee van een lange reeks hersenloze actiefilms. De Finse cineast verschilt qua stijl niet veel van Chan, want ook hij serveert het liefst vette actie met even overdadige grapdichtheid. Chan en Harlin lijken voor elkaar gemaakt, een conclusie die het duo aan het begin van het millennium al trok toen ze de samenwerking aangingen voor Nosebleed. Die productie liep om diverse redenen, waaronder 9/11, helaas voortijdig stuk, maar met Skiptrace krijgt hun verbond nu een tweede kans. Het resultaat kan echter geen hoogtepunt genoemd worden op het conto van beide heren. Skiptrace is een lollig niemendalletje dat je al vergeten bent voordat je de bioscoop verlaten hebt.

Een 'buddy movie' is slechts zo goed als de chemie tussen de hoofdrolspelers en die laat bij Skiptrace helaas te wensen over. Chan doet het prima als de getormenteerde, eerzame smeris, maar tegenspeler Johnny Knoxville wekt vooral irritatie op met zijn tomeloos voorspelbare liegen en bedriegen maar zijn oh zo kleine hartje. Ook de overige rollen zijn goeddeels keurig binnen de lijntjes ingekleurd en spreken weinig tot de verbeelding. Van de jonkvrouw in nood tot de fletse Chinese gangsters. Hun Russische tegenhangers krijgen de lachers nog het meest op hun hand, maar zijn ook niet bepaald vernieuwend. Zowel voor Chan als voor Harlin is het feitelijk niets nieuws onder de zon, maar hoogstens een samenvatting van hun eerdere werk. Gelukkig dragen de locaties nog enigszins bij aan dat beoogde exotische gevoel, van de weidse Mongoolse steppen tot de duizelingwekkende Chinese bergrivieren. De fans van Chan zal het echter allemaal om het even zijn, want voor hen luidt de hamvraag hoe hun held zich staande houdt tussen alle vuistslagen en rondfluitende kogels.

De laatste Hollywoodfilm waarin we Chan zagen was de remake van The Karate Kid, waarin de ster op leeftijd de rol van leermeester aannam. Dit keer is hij terug in een meer vertrouwde rol, maar dat de leeftijd hem parten speelt, valt moeilijk te ontkennen. In Skiptrace levert hij niet bepaald zijn meest wervelende moves af. Hoewel hij nog steeds wild om zich heen slaat en schopt, doet hij dat niet zo energiek als voorheen. Echt indrukwekkende stunts blijven uit. Voor de liefhebbers teleurstellend, maar voor de leek mag het de pret niet drukken, want Chans meer-geluk-dan-wijsheidcapriolen worden nog immer aanstekelijk prettig gestoord gebracht. Ondanks de vele tekortkomingen in Skiptrace blijft Chan toch goed voor een kleine twee uur absurdistische actielol. Met pensioen gaan is er nog niet bij, zoals ook zijn personage dat pertinent weigert. Maar goed ook, want hoewel Skiptrace aangeeft dat er nog enige levensvatbaarheid in Chans werk zit, laat de film evenzeer zien hoe beperkt zijn routine onderhand is. Het zou jammer zijn als Skiptrace diens laatste aria is geweest.

Skiptrace: 5/10

Today's Review: American Ultra

Time for another review. Long overdue in fact.

American Ultra - recensie

You'd think the shady but historically true Project MK-Ultra would make for a smashing political thriller, with its detestable CIA experiments of mind control via drugs and careful conditioning on the unsuspecting American population. Instead, Hollywood loosely appropriated it for a stoner comedy. And sadly, not the funniest imaginable. American Ultra fires more bullets than jokes.

At least the lead casting is a shot in the right direction. Jesse Eisenberg and Kristen Stewart have worked together before and it shows, as they have the right amount of chemistry to make a likeable couple of losers. From Eisenberg, we've come to expect a certain level of quality, especially when it concerns this type of character. Stewart's performance thus leaves more of an impression, since we still needed some convincing of her talents as a true actress. With her much praised serious role in Camp X-Ray recently behind her, we can safely say 2015 is the year she finally came into her own and left her Twilight stigma behind her. Still, it takes more than two good leads to make for a solid movie. A decent plot and the right balance between action and comedy, for instance. American Ultra doesn't have either.

Where the fun is concerned, the movie starts at least promising, and a few good laughs are to be had in the first act. However, the film increasingly opts for action over comedy, which makes for a rather dull and unfunny finale, where both the jokes and the necessary emotional investment in the main characters is lost in all the gun fights, knife fights, and fist fights. There's simply too much fighting as the movie progresses and most of it is excessively violent, but not in any ironic or tongue-in-cheek manner. It's just a bloody mess, as is the story, which also involves rival CIA agents fighting it out in a manner totally devoid of the intelligence the I in their agency is supposed to stand for. There's also room made for a few stereotype drug dealers and deranged super assassins, but none of it works on the levels the writers probably intended. Director Nima Nourizadeh, fresh off the allegedly culturally notable teen flick Project X, shows a little too clearly he has more affinity with destroying things and blowing stuff up than in making us care about it all.

Fortunately we still have RED to show us how a fun time can be had with CIA assassins being hunted by their own employer. However, a definitive movie about Project MK-Ultra is still very much lacking. If Hollywood does tackle the touchy subject again, I hope they make a more serious movie  out of it. Mind control simply isn't funny, as American Ultra shows.

Today's Review: The Wolf of Wall Street

 

The Wolf of Wall Street: ****/*****, or 8/10

You might at first be inclined to ask yourself, 'a three-hour movie about money, how can that be the least bit interesting?' Don't worry, for Martin Scorsese's grand 'dramedy' The Wolf of Wall Street is not a movie about money. In fact, the lead character himself directly acknowledges this fear early on in the movie by stating that 'we wouldn't be interested in all that stuff', afterwards largely avoiding the subject altogether. So don't go in expecting any dreary financial number crunching, since it's really all about what said money (lots and lots and lots of it!) does with people. People, inherently flawed, get progressively flawed – read: fucked up – as their income increases astronomically. Meanwhile, every sense of ethics, responsibility or even plain decency goes right out the window. Scorsese's case in point: Jordan Belfort.

Belfort, a superb piece of acting by Leonardo DiCaprio, starts out as many a regular Joe from the middle class: screwed over by a financial crash and reduced to unemployment, thus unable to provide for his loving wife. All the more disappointing for him as he had just found a job at a large Wall Street firm, where his boss (an impeccably loathsome Matthew McConaughey) saw his potential and advised him not to abstain of sex and drugs while on this job. Thanks to Belfort's talent for agressive sales pitching, he quickly recuperates selling worthless stock at a fifty percent commission rate, and before long he returns to Wall Street triumphantly with a loyal band of peculiar misfits in his wake (including Jonah Hill on steroids), all of whom have their specific place in his grand scheme of taking money from the ignorant masses that hope to make a quick buck on the stock market. The only one making easy money are Jordan and his friends though, and before long they become increasingly desensitized to the plight of their clients in favor of their own ruthless acquisition of wealth. 'The Wolf of Wall Street' is born, and despite Jordan's all too human persona, such a term fits him perfectly, as this alpha male and his pack of wild dogs scour the land preying on the weak and gullible to feast upon their cash in a financial frenzy. One that seemingly knows no bounds, as Belfort continues his practices for years without sanctions or indictments, despite ongoing FBI scrutiny. Nevertheless, Belfort needs no help in bringing him down, as he does a fine job at that on his own.

In many ways The Wolf of Wall Street is a fairly typical story of a man gaining the world but losing his soul in the process, as he is unable to keep his base instincts in check. Arguably, it's not the plot that makes the movie stand out, it's the way Scorsese tells it to his audience. Walking a fine line between comedy and drama that finds both in perfect balance throughout the whole, The Wolf of Wall Street proves infectiously hilarious at one moment and effectively poignant the next. As Jordan's novel lifestyle as a millionaire progressively takes its toll, his personal life spirals ever more out of control emotionally and physically as his constant drive for more and more dominates his every move. Fondly remembering his former boss' advice, Belfort sets out on a course of rampant sex and drugs without worrying about any consequences, as money will no doubt solve any obstacles in his path. Small wonder his wife soon leaves him as she finds him snogging a super model. Marrying said model doesn't increase the happiness in his family life, children notwithstanding. Abusing every conceivable illicit substance imaginable also doesn't work in his favor. Despite the many yachts, limousines, prostitutes and drugs, Scorsese makes it amply clear that this is not a life to be envied as Belfort's once decent personality is replaced by a greedy, amoral and self-annihilating character that can only get the better of him, sooner if not later. Having become a veritable slave of money, Belfort remains miserable, and we wouldn't have it any other way, as his road to a personal hell is paved with one outrageously funny messed up situation after another.

Aside from DiCaprio's top performance, Scorsese gets the very best out of his cast and crew in conveying this tale of human deterioration at the hands of boundless greed, which often borders on the unbelievable. Exploding planes, savage storms at sea, goldfish eating, dwarf tossing and the generally lavish parties of debauchery at the office heralding the weekend are among the many elements of The Wolf of Wall Street that are so absurd, they can only be true. In terms of comedy, nothing beats the delayed kicking-in of exceptionally rare drugs that causes a most unwelcome physical reaction at an hour of crisis at which the need to get home fast results in one of the most humorous car scenes ever on the big screen. Despite all the controversy, the many scenes of nudity and excessive swearing feel rightfully placed, and credit must be given to both the director and his brave cast to stick with such daring material instead of catering to a general sense of good public taste, something Belfort severely lacked. The fast paced, witty dialogue written by Terence Winter proves to be in excellent hands of the assembled cast of seasoned actors, including the likes of Jean Dujardin, Rob Reiner, Jon Favreau, Kyle Chandler and Joanna Lumley. Stylistically there's little to comment against the picture as the ingenious editing, wonderful cinematography and delightful score, featuring many a successful callback to the period in question, are found to be in perfect sync to make for a superior cinematic experience. But The Wolf of Wall Street at its heart remains another intimate collaboration between the grandmaster Scorsese and his personal muse DiCaprio, their fifth and finest thus far. The duo makes damn sure you care enough about Belfort to run along with him for three hours, but never are you really allowed to sympathize with him, given his deplorable nature.

With The Wolf of Wall Street, Scorsese has directed a modern classic warning audiences of the destructive dangers of endless self-enrichment, a film that is easily matched to any already existing films on the topic. Belfort claimed to be inspired in his professional shenanigans by the despicably greedy character of Gordon Gekko (Michael Douglas) in Oliver Stone's Wall Street. Despite Scorsese's upsetting picture of the life and times of Belfort in his own Wall Street film, history has proven that there's always people present who just don't get the picture as they consider the wildest possible life of sex and drugs that money can buy the highest achievable goal to strive for. With DiCaprio's sublime performance, it stands to reason, like it or not, that in another three decades we'll be watching movies about similarly morally bankrupt characters based on actual personalities that will claim to have been inspired by Jordan Belfort in 'that classic Scorsese film'. Not something to look forward to, but a sad reality of what money hath ever wrought.

 

Today's Mini-Review: The Counselor

The Counselor: ***/*****, or 6/10

According to Cormac McCarthy, acclaimed author of novels such as No Country for Old Men and The Road (and thus indirectly also responsible for two great cinematic adaptations of said works), hell hath no fury like a woman hungry. In his screenwriting debut, The Counselor, we learn a thing or two about women for sure. They can be the most scheming, conniving, ruthlessly intelligent and sexually uninhibited creatures imaginable, or they can be loving, charming wives-to-be instead, though the former eats the latter for lunch if left to her shady devices. McCarthy also means to inform his audience on a diverse range of other assorted topics with this film, including the make-up of diamonds, the dangers of speeding (which can lead to both incarceration and decapitation), the sexually stimulating nature of fast cars and the machinations of a deadly device called a bolito (which we will end up seeing in working order in much more detail than we would like to have seen before the film is over) but the exact workings of the film's main topic, a drug deal gone horribly awry, remain rather elusive by comparison. McCarthy proves he's as consistent in his job as a screen writer as he is a novelist, as he keeps dabbling in the cynical realm associated with man's darker, greedier nature, but coherency unfortunately is not his strong suit as evidenced here.

The Counselor features all the ingredients of a strong, effective film, including an intriguing premise, a top-notch director in the person of Sir Ridley Scott and a solid cast to match. The counselor in question is an otherwise nameless man (Michael Fassbender) who leads a seemingly happy life with his fiancé Laura (Penelope Cruz), but aspires to gain much more by better playing his card of being in a position of influence, which leads him to the decision of getting involved in a lucrative but risky drug deal. His associates, the flamboyant bon-vivant Reiner (Javier Bardem) and the cautionary Westray (Brad Pitt) tell him of the dangers of such deals in juicy details (most of which we will see come to bloody fruition in a grand case of cinematic parallelism), but the counselor accepts the job nonetheless. You know this charming man is gonna regret his choice well before he actually makes it, but you'll find him sympathetic enough to root for him to be successful in this venture. When the trafficker loses his head, someone at the top of the game loses a lot of money, patience and general goodwill towards man, which leads to everybody's necessity to bail out immediately or face grave, disturbing consequences. Reiner's girlfriend Malkina (Cameron Diaz), a woman as gorgeous as she is devious and greedy above all else, soon seems to be pulling all the strings and relentlessly hunts the money and those in her way. A killing spree erupts, in which a fair share of people, decent and not so decent alike, lose it all, during which the counselor must come to terms with the very bad call he made, one we always knew from the get-go would come to this conclusion. This film sounds very much like a thriller, which it wants to be, but the amount of thrills it offers comes up short. In fact, the first half of the movie is comprised of endless dialogue, some beautifully written, some less catchy, but much of it quite digressing and ultimately redundant. When the shit finally hits the fan, it does so with a vengeance in a bunch of short, brutal bursts, but by that time many spectators will have seized to care, or worse, failed to understand just what is going on and who is connected to who in the ultimate scheme of things considering the many players and their complicated and underdeveloped interrelations.

Nevertheless, what The Counselor lacks in terms of writing, Sir Ridley often makes up for to some extent in directing, as the film's best moments are largely cinematic in nature, including the drug dealer accidentally shot in the head and immediately robbed by local vagabonds before being devoured by his own cheetahs, as well as the already infamous scene displaying Malkina's inexplicable drive to copulate with a nice car (Cameron certainly goes for it!), an ecstatic moment of absurdity that ruins the ride for its bewildered owner. The Counselor has all the hallmarks of a flawed masterpiece, as everything is necessary to craft a grand, suspenseful film, but none of it is arranged in the correct order and the dominant overall tone of cynicism, McCarthy's overarching theme, makes it hard to behold as it schemes its way towards an unsettling climax.

Today's Mini-Review: 2 Guns

2 Guns: ****/*****, or 7/10

Now this is a buddy movie if ever I saw one. The one buddy is Denzel Washington starring as an undercover DEA-agent aiming to bring down a drug lord, the other is Mark Wahlberg starring as an equally undercover Navy intel officer attempting to secure the same kingpin's cash to fund covert Naval operations. Naturally, neither is aware of the other's actual identity – if you think different government situations could adequately work together for a change, think again! – and they know they'll have to kill their partner somewhere down the road, but not before said road screws them both and they can't trust their own employers no more, which leads them to forge an uneasy alliance to get through their common misery alive. It's basically the 'why so serious' version of The Departed, except here the moles have to dig themselves out together. Of course 2 Guns never reaches that film's level of quality, but it surpasses most other recent action movies, mostly thanks to excellent chemistry between Washington and Wahlberg (giving the latter another chance to prove he can actually act, which is still a matter of debate in some circles). The successful and catchy interplay between Washington's relaxed and calculating thinking man and Wahlberg's charming but obnoxiously loudmouth man of action is the result of an admittedly fairly solid script containing plenty of witticisms, absurd but surprising narrative situations and, as expected, a decent amount of gunfights. The movie betrays its comic book roots in an overall over-the-top attitude, with delightfully ridiculous action scenes, the use of politically incorrect stereotyping here and there (the vile and racist border patrol cops for one) and an excessively eerie and villainous bad guy with a routine for sadistic interrogation techniques (Bill Paxton!). Coupled with an abundance of snappy dialogue throughout, as well as a fairly intelligent, though at times a little convoluted, plot for this type of high octane action flick, it makes 2 Guns one of the more pleasant and enjoyable of this year's thrill rides. Ideologically speaking, the movie suggests there's nobody you can trust but your gun. You certainly can't trust government institutions, since they use you and abuse you at their convenience (which makes it all the more ironic I saw this film on the same day US government services throughout the country shut down due to the inability of American politicians to agree on budget measures, leaving the States in chaos). The DEA is corrupt, the Navy is a tool that only cares about its own prestige and turns a blind eye to injustice amongst its ranks for the greater good, and the CIA is nothing but an out of control private army for its top brass who utilize it to get filthy rich by smuggling drugs into the country in cahoots with the Mexican drug lords that only serve as their stooges. Heck, the Mexican drug lord in this movie (an unconvincingly Hispanic but convincingly scary Edward James 'Adama' Olmos) has more scruples and honourable sensibilities than any of the goverment's top dogs! When it comes down to mutual self-preservation you can rely on your best buddy, but once the dust has cleared you can only trust him as far as you can spit, as illustrated by the protagonists' continuing eagerness to plant a bullet into each other even up till the end of the film. It's a dog-eat-dog world, 2 Guns states, but with a good gun you can make sure you're the canine doing the eating, while getting away with a load of cash while you're at it.

Today's Mini-Review: We're the Millers

We're the Millers: ***/*****, or 6/10

Typical formulaic Hollywood fare. You take a comedically intriguing premise, you drown it in cheap sex jokes and excessive swearing for swearing's sake, you add established funny actors for flavor to make sure audiences will get what they expect (in this case Jennifer Aniston and Jason Sudeikis: you didn't think they would be together in something other than a comedy, did you?!), and you garner the whole in moralistic messaging to ensure a predictably happy ending for everyone concerned. The end result in this case is We're the Millers, but you could have rightfully entered many comedy titles of the last decades in its place with these ingredients. We're the Millers isn't the worst of them though, since there's a number of good dirty jokes too (and a killer whale eating a shark for extra kicks). Small time drug dealer David (Sudeikis), a loner living a life totally devoid of responsibilities whatsoever, ends up owning a lot of money to his sleazy supplier (Ed Helms from the Hangover series, largely identical narrative territory). He can make up for it by smuggling a load of weed over the Mexican border though. To avoid getting caught, David decides to masquerade as a family unit on a holiday trip in an RV, together with a broke stripper (Aniston) who hates his guts but needs his money, an obnoxious female teen runaway and a socially awkward boy of eighteen that hasn't yet done the deed (and thus ends up being both the victim of the majority of this flick's crude jokes and getting a girlfriend). After having secured the shipment, this so-called Miller family heads for home, but unfortunately for them David's employer screwed over a Mexican drug lord in the whole transaction, who soon is in hot pursuit together with a grotesque, hulking one-eyed henchman. Plus, they also have to deal with tarantulas, corrupt Mexican officials fishing for sexual favors, agressive border patrols, an actual family on vacation suffering from a dent in their sex life, and of course, each other. However, to the surprise of all of them, they quickly discover the benefits of and acquire a taste for family life, as Hollywood's conformative, conservative propaganda machine is working overtime to make sure all's well that ends well. At least we get a decent amount of witty repartee and performances to match from a cast that is all too familiar with this genre and knows how to make it work, which could also translate as being on auto-pilot. And for those interested, Aniston's sexy dance routines are adequate enough to convince us she's playing a cheap stripper. But overall, We're the Millers proves an all too standard comedy that you'll stick with for 110 minutes and you'll forget about just as fast.

Today's Mini-Review: The Big Lebowski

Big Lebowski, The

Rating: ****/*****, or 8/10

Outrageously zany, off-beat comedy the likes only the Coen Brothers can provide. Life is tough for the pot smoking all-round slacker Jeffrey Lebowski, more commonly referred to as “The Dude” (Jeff Bridges in one of the most defining roles of his career). Sharing his last name with a millionaire, he's victimized by thugs who mistake him for that rich man (who owes them a debt), a situation which finds his beloved rug in ruin after having been urinated upon by the perpetrators. When he visits his namesake to try and get him to pay for its cleaning, he soon gets more than he bargained for as he finds himself caught up in what appears to be a kidnap of the wealthy man's trophy wife, but swiftly explodes into a bizarre, inexplicable potpourri of events beyond anybody's control or understanding, thanks to the involvement of a host of wacky, maniacal and thoroughly enjoyable characters, ranging from feminist/nihilist artists and pornographers to White Russians and generally random folk annex narrators. Yet all The Dude asked for was a clean rug and an opportunity to win the local bowling alley's competition he trained so hard for with his two best buddies (John Goodman with severe anger management problems and Steve Buscemi who can't take a hint when he's asked to shut up). The Coens don't ask you to make sense of it all, they just want you to roll with it (pun intended), as The Dude does himself. Nevertheless, despite this absence of a clearly defined plot, or more likely because of it, The Big Lebowski proves all kinds of fun. The pair of directors used the same tactic a decade later with Burn After Reading to similar results, proving them the masters of this subgenre of 'nonsensicomedy' (for the record, I just made that term up and I hope it catches on). In both cases they were aided by an impressive cast of character actors and/or movie stars who felt like doing something different for a change, in The Big Lebowski's case including Philip Seymour Hoffman, John Turturro, Julianne Moore and Sam Elliott. Though the film was met with moderately tempered critical reviews and disappointing box office results back in 1998, time has proven the Coens right, as it has since become a widely accepted cult classic with serious tendencies towards an eventual, seemingly unavoidable shedding of the moniker 'cult'. When Burn After Reading came along in 2008, the majority of both audience and critics finally understood this type of film, and that movie did much, much better business accordingly.

Starring: Jeff Bridges, John Goodman, Steve Buscemi

Directed by Joel and Ethan Coen

USA/UK: Polygram Filmed Entertainment, 1998

Today's bunch of minireviews: young people, old people and sex

Spring Breakers: ****/*****, or 7/10

Harmony Korine's provocative take on the death of the American Dream – or the exact opposite, its ultimate realization – follows a quartet of young college girls (including Harmony's wife Rachel) who will stop at nothing to celebrate Spring Break in Florida just to engage in endless mindless, decadent sex and drug use. Being penniless proves a bit of an obstacle at first, but their solution is as shocking as it is effective: just rob a restaurant, get in a car and don't look back. It's only the beginning of a nightmarish thrill ride into the mind of America's hedonistic youngsters who, despite beind educated and full of opportunity, prefer to opt for the easy way out in order to live a careless/carefree life, even if only for a short while. Just when they're living their fantasy to the fullest, the police intervene and haul their asses to jail for abuse of illicit substances. Fortunately, a rapper/gangster/parasite called Alien (James Franco being quite the chameleon, to say the least!) bails them out and introduces them to his world of everything. Thanks to his wild and violent life style leeching off the American way of life, he has loads of guns, loads of dope and loads of sex to offer, which the girls accept all too eagerly. Except for the devout Christian of course, who decides to return home: quite the hypocrit, considering her religious values ought to have kept her from coming along for this ride in the first place, knowing full well what she got herself into but opting to look the other way for her own pleasure. The other girls have the time of their life for a while, until the situation turns dark when a rival mobster threatens Alien's turf. Soon however, it appears Alien got more than he bargained for when the remaining teens prove quite resilient in helping him deal with the aggressor in a surprisingly violent manner. 

Casting several former Disney Channel stars like Selena Gomez (Wizards of Waverly Place) and Vanessa Hudgens (High School Musical) was a brave and perfect choice, both underscoring the point Korine tries to make and allowing these girls to break completely with their 'sweet & innocent' stigma. People who expect lots of booze and boobs in an overly simplistic story get exactly what they expected, just handed in a different way than they would probably have liked, since Spring Breakers is not a simple exploitation flick, but a mesmerizing descent into madness rife with wildly divergent visual gimmicks and hallucinatory effects, making the audience less of a viewer and more of a participant. Korine's rebellious denial to uphold to cinematic conventions made distributors rather uneasy, since the expectations of mainstream teen drama mixed with evocative artsy display caused them, in their limited money driven line of thinking, to be unable to successfully classify this film. As a result, Spring Breakers witnessed a release in both multiplexes and arthouse theaters, but failed to fully win over both audiences due to its rough, offbeat style and confronting thematic contents. Mission accomplished, Korine!

Thérèse Desqueyroux: **/*****, or 5/10

Dull French period drama, set in the 1920s, about the daughter of a wealthy land owner who is forced to marry an older man just so her family can improve its social status by getting its hands on his lands as well and thus becoming a major player in the pinery business. Thérèse (played by Audrey Tautou) soon finds that her loveless marriage revolves all around her child her husband sired with her, while she herself matters little anymore. She's as much a commodity as the pine trees her family trades in, and she receives as little affection. Yet she is expected to help convince a female relative, who's deeply in love with a boy of low status, to also marry for money. The continuing lack of care and interest in what she wants soon drive Thérèse to take outrageous, increasingly dark measures to get noticed again, including setting fires in the plantation and poisoning her husband. When her disturbing deeds come to light, her family threatens to take her child from her and gives her house arrest to avoid the scandal from becoming public knowledge. Though Tautou gives a convincing performance of a cold and calculating woman who sees her freedom and personal space deteriorate more and more, it's hard to feel much for her, since she and those around here are all despicable people who base their lives on increasing the family fortune and their social status instead of aiming to live a happy family life. Interesting parallels can be drawn between this French film and the TV-show Game of Thrones, which have much in common from a plot perspective. However, the latter does succeed much more in squeezing compelling drama out of nasty people out to strengthen their family and riches by marriage and procreation. Thérèse Desqueyroux has to make do with annoying people dancing around each other for two hours. At least the period setting of provincial France in the Twenties offers some diversion from the otherwise tedious story progression of this film.

Song for Marion: ***/*****, or 6/10

Cheerful feel-good movie that is bound to make anyone smile. Grumpy old Arthur (Terence Stamp) is married to the ever optimistic Marion (Vanessa Redgrave), whose favorite passtime is singing in a local choir with other old folks under the tutelage of the beautiful younger woman Elizabeth (Gemma Arterton, a joy to behold as always). Arthur thinks little of her hobby, thinking she'll make a fool of herself, but when she passes away from cancer he feels he must honour her passion and join up with the choir which has entered a singing contest. Arthur does so despite suffering from stage fright and general lack of interest in basically everything, including his estranged son (Who? Christopher Eccleston!) and his granddaughter. The utterly sympathetic and optimistic old performers in Elizabeth's choir, quite a colorful band of singers with their various funny idiosyncrasies, prove to be the most charming and uplifting element of the film (especially when they cheekily start singing about sex), but the emotional core revolves around Arthur and Marion. Though it is rather puzzling to find a spirited woman like her marrying a cynical old fart like him, their devotion towards one another is pulled off convincingly enough to make you believe Arthur would bother with putting up with her hobby, going so far as to save the day in the choir competition where Elizabeth's merry band of singing enthusiasts is as out of place between all the professional top choirs as Arthur is in Marion's choir itself. Of course father and son also become closer to one another due to all the merriment the songs deliver. This movie is utterly devoid of narrative surprises but proves just as pleasing all the same for all ages. An overly simplistic and predictable story does not stand in the way of strong, touching performances throughout and an overall 'don't worry be happy' attitude that nobody can resist. The song may be for Marion, but the movie is for everybody who expects nothing but 90 minutes of cheerful delight.