Showing posts with label Andy Serkis. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Andy Serkis. Show all posts

BLACK PANTHER

            Sometimes a film receives universal approval, and I’m left wondering if everyone else saw the same film as me.  Last year’s Logan was one such and, to a lesser extent, this year’s Black Panther is, also.  Now, before you start writing those letters - I enjoyed it, it was fine; but it didn’t strike me as outstanding.  Yet the response to the film has been euphoric and unprecedented.  Rotten Tomatoes has it at 97%, which is the highest rate given any new Marvel film since the first one, Iron Man, back in 2008.  It has also, now, become the highest grossing of all the Marvel films.  So the critics love it and the audience loves it.  Who am I, then, to gainsay?
          Black Panther has been claimed as a cultural event of seismic proportions for black culture, mostly because, for the first time, viewers of colour can see superheroic spectacle featuring people who look just like them.  The response has been so one-sided and, being the pasty white-boy that I am, I am so unqualified to have an opinion about that, I hesitate to air my reservations, even though they don’t really touch on the core issue of the film - it’s racial identity - instead, my concerns relate more to the familiarity of the story being told and the slow pace at which they are telling it.
            So, before I begin, to be entirely clear - I enjoyed the film!  I did!  I went to see it again, just to double-check my response and, on both occasions, found it to be a perfectly adequate contribution to the burgeoning Marvel universe.
            I liked the fact that Black Panther takes place entirely in Africa (apart from one shoot-out and car-chase in Korea, put there to appeal to the needs of the ever-more-important Far East audience).  I particularly liked the fact that they didn’t feel the need to shoe-horn in any cameos from The Avengers.
So compelling is the notion of an uncolonised African super-power, that travel agents here in the real world have been turning customers away who want to holiday there.
            I loved the design of Wakanda, from its fashion, to its architecture, it has been diligently thought through.  They have built an entire civilisation which takes its aesthetic cues from Africa.  It has not been westernised at all, indeed, it has Africanised western notions like the skyscraper.  It’s a beautiful thing.  In the opening moments, when T’Challa flies over the city, it is a much science fiction location as the planets we see in the Guardians of the Galaxy films.
            I imagine the fashions, and particularly the face decorations, will have already entered the cosplay pantheon and, if last year’s response to Wonder Woman is anything to go by, I expect every black kid (and some who now want to be black) will be wearing Black Panther costumes at fancy dress parties!
            The all-female Wakandan army - the Dora Milaje - ( or, those “Grace Jones looking chicks”) not only have a great look, they are a great idea!  They are led by the ferocious Danai Gurira - who is even more impressive with a spear than she was, in The Walking Dead, with a sword.  To have an army that is all female and all black in the era of #metoo and #time’sup is brilliant timing.  Yet, they represent just one way that Wakanda is a contrarian nation.
I once heard a story that helicopter pilots in Viet-Nam were often female, because they are more efficient and more ruthless than male pilots.  They were less likely to take risks and get their helicopter destroyed, and they were more likely to hit their targets.  Don't know if that's true ... But I, for one, wouldn't mess with an army made up of motivated women.
            I understand the politics of the film, and can see the appeal, to the ancestors of slaves, of an African super-power which has never been colonised.  This is a fantasy, but one that speaks to the heart of black culture.  Killmonger (Gawd, what an awful name ... Sorry, but it is), in his opening scene, points out that museums are full of artefacts that the West stole from their rightful owners.  In this way, Black Panther is an unambiguously political film, moreso than any Marvel film to date.
            The first problem I had with the film came with T’Challa’s coronation, which is a mix of ultra modern (the technology to stop the waterfall) and traditional (the whole having a fist-fight on a waterfall thing) and mystical (using magic herbs to take away the king’s super powers).  This whole ceremony is repeated, later, when Kilmumble challenges for the throne.  It is dramatically quite weak for the film to repeat itself like this, especially since the betrayal of M’Baku - the first challenger - is simply a red-herring.  It would have been more dramatic, and less predictable, to combine these two narratives into one.  Yes, it would have reduced the significance of M’Baku’s role, slightly, but it would have beefed up Kilwomble’s exponentially.
            After the coronation, they bury their king, as you do, and he has a vision lifted bodily from Schrader’s Cat People (1982), featuring panthers in the trees.  Then he gets to talk to his dead dad, like Thor did in last year’s Ragnarok, and like every hero gets to talk to every dead mentor, from Luke Skywalker to Frodo to Harry Potter.  It’s okay, I get it; it’s the first time a black hero has been able to do this.  Cool.
Malcolm McDowell shows Nastassja Kinski his pussy, in 1982's Cat People.
The chosen one has undead daddy issues in Black Panther.  Use The Force, T'Challa.
            Father does offer one brilliantly tooled nugget of advice: “It is hard for a good man to be king.”  This is not only a great line, and a precursor of the dilemma that T’Challa is about to face, it also lays the foundation for the T’Challla’s discovery of his father’s mistake.
            Nakia, T’Challa’s girlfriend (played by Lupita Nyong'o, taking a break from being mo-capped in Star Wars films) is his Jiminy Cricket - speaking for his conscience.  Their first real conversation has her making her point with some fairly on-the-nose dialogue about why Wakanda should stop hiding behind its cloak of invisibility and use its power to help other nations.  So, his first scene after he becomes king, she tells him what his character arc will be.
            Interesting, when there is a case being made for a black Bond (and, let’s be honest, the success of this film has made that a far more credible possibility) that T’Challa gets equipped with his wonderful toys by his sister, the precocious Shuri (played by Letitia Wright) and her ‘design group’.  He has, in other words, his very own Q Branch.
            The showy pretend-it’s-all-one-shot fight is impressive, but that’s the way these things are done today, after two Kingsman films, one Atomic Blonde and an entire Birdman,  there’s nothing surprising in it now.  The car chase that follows it enjoys a lot of Fast and Furious type physics, although the virtual-reality auto-pilot thing is very desirable.  There isn’t a gamer in the world who won’t be wishing for one of those of their very own!
            But, of course, Klaue (played, once again, by Andy Serkis, taking a break from being mo-capped in Star Wars and Apes films), who is the subject of all this sturm und drang, isn’t the real villain,  Killmuppet is, and he doesn’t step forward until we’re an hour in - basically, the half-way point.  Then, when Klaue is done with as a distraction, he is just ignominiously disposed of; tossed away in the trash.  Which is a shame, Serkis is far better than that and deserves better.
            This, for me, really undermined that whole first hour - since what action there was, was all for nothing.  The fight on the waterfall wasn’t necessary.  The fight in the casino didn’t matter.  The car chase through the streets of Busan was an attempt to capture the wrong villain.  It’s a lot of wasted film time.  All very well made and very diverting, but not, ultimately, germane to the plot.
            Hang on, a minute.  So, when Martin Freeman (who's taking a break from selling mobile phones), as Ross, gets shot whilst being all heroic, simply sticking a metal bead in his wound will stabilise him?  Really?  And how does that work, exactly?  Magic?  Vibranium pixies?  Midi-clorians?  Anyway, it works well enough to ensure that Everett Ross gets to stay in the film.  Bilbo (or “coloniser”, as Shuri calls him) is very much the token white man from here on in.  And I still can’t get used to Martin Freeman pretending to have an American accent.
            And so, finally, attention shifts to the main antagonist - who we’ll refer to by his African name, if you don’t mind: N’Jadaka!  The explanation of his motivation is well handled, and helps make him a fully-rounded villain - like Zemo in Civil War (2016) was, before him.  King T’Chakka handled the matter badly in 1991 and King T’Challa will pay for it now.
Hail to the king, baby.
            N’Jadaka is played with total commitment by Michael B. Jordan.  But this is not surprising, since he’s working again with Ryan Coogler, who gave him his big break in 2015’s Creed.  Yes, he’d been working since he was a teen and, yes, he’d even played Johnny Storm in 2015’s ‘troubled’ Fantastic Four ... But it was the notices and accolades he got for Creed that have set him up for life.  So, he was going to give his all for his friend, Coogler.
            Although N’Jadaka is arrogant - he struts around like a gangsta rapper - and needlessly aggressive - having killed hundreds of innocents in his drive for revenge - he is, essentially, right.  He was betrayed by T’Chakka, and Wakanda has abandoned the rest of the African people to slavery and civil war.
            And so, finally, with N’Jadaka in the throne room throwing down his challenge, the story actually begins - at the end of act two!  For me, the confrontation between the T’Challa and his new arch nemesis should have been at the end of act one - then we could have had the entire middle act of T’Challa with no powers, fighting back, while N’Jadaka plots to infiltrate the world - and actually does something about it.  That would raise the stakes world-wide - it would make T’Challa’s defeat tragic, and make his inevitable resurrection more triumphant.
            As it is, he’s out of the picture barely more than ten minutes.
            Yes, my way of doing it, would have made the film more like Dark Knight Rises (2012).  But that would  be okay.  I probably wouldn’t then mind the dénouement being two Black Panthers fighting each other, which is becoming the familiar superhero showdown - as we’ve seen variations of it in Superman III, Spider-Man 3, Iron Man 1, 2 and 3, Ant-Man and, of course, Logan.
            The final battle - between all the tribes of Wakanda, is suitably spectacular - and, especially when the armoured rhinos appeared (as if rhinos don’t have armour enough already), it reminded me of nothing so much as the Battle of Pelennor Fields from The Return of the King (2003). But, again, that’s fine, because I understand what’s going on here: Black Panther mixes together and - one might say - colonises a lot of generic properties - from Fast & Furious to Bond to Lord of the Rings, as well as visiting some of the more popular superhero tropes.
            It’s a shame, given the huge strides into diversity that the film had made, that the film-makers then felt the need to have a gang of feisty women rescued by M’Baku and his mountain gorilla warriors - doing his best Han Solo impression.  In this film, of all films, I would have liked to see the women rescue the men.
M’Baku (Winston Duke) - He's the king of the swingers.  He's not given much to do but, thankfully, he does it very well.  Though, I'm not sure having black men dress as gorillas is entirely politically correct.  It certainly wasn't in King Kong (1933).
            So, when Black Panther is different from the norm - it’s excellent.  When it’s similar to the norm, it’s understandable and well handled.  But it just misses its own point too much in the first half and then crams too much into the second half - to create any real human drama.  And that’s a shame.
            And, yes, I’m fully aware that Marvel, as they count their billion dollars of profit, must be sobbing themselves silly at my humble criticism.

Dir: Ryan Coogler

Script: Ryan Coogler and Joe Robert Cole

Cert: 12A

Dur: 134 mins

WAR FOR THE PLANET OF THE APES






This is the end, beautiful friend.

The end of the re-imagined Planet of the Apes trilogy.

Rise of the Planet of the Apes surprised me back in 2011.  I feared that a re-hash of 1968’s Planet of the Apes might be terrible (what gave me that idea, eh, Tim Burton?)  But they surmounted all my prejudices by bringing a fresh eye to time-worn plot points (scientist tampers with nature ... gets his comeuppance) and made the story delightfully emotional, leading to a well-deserved epic finale.

They followed this with Dawn, which advanced the story, made the characters more complex and compelling, and, again, told an old fashioned story (an underling’s cowardice threatens to scupper their ruler’s good work) in a fresh and diverting way.

Anticipation, then, for the inevitable final part of the triptych, War, was very high.  History is, after all, lousy with examples of trilogies that fell apart with the third film.  Aliens, Superman, Godfather, Spider-Man, X-Men, Jurassic Park, Fast and Furious ... The Evil Dead (joking).


Monkeys mounted.  A scene deliberately visually echoing the original Apes films.  It's also the only scene where California looks anything like we expect it to look. 

This film is set two years on from Dawn, but the events happen as a direct result of that film.  But, for me, this film doesn’t push forward beyond Dawn.  That film was shockingly different from the one which preceded; the world had changed, the characters had evolved (literally and emotionally), it even looked different.  This film looks very similar to Dawn, damp and dour, cold and getting colder.

Thematically it is similar too, with Caesar (played, once again, by Mr. Mo-Cap, Andy Serkis) trying to maintain the peace and the harmony of his tribe by reiterating his belief that apes together are strong.

But the world beyond the forest has turned against them.  A mysterious ‘Colonel’ has declared war on the apes and, as the film’s opening sequence shows, that is a full-on hot war, with massive casualties on both sides.

It is to the film’s credit that it show’s this introductory battle as being terrifying and brutal on both sides.  This isn’t good-guys versus bad-guys deal.  It’s a confused and convoluted war.

Indeed, the soldiers use simian scouts to help them track the wild apes, these are apes who have been tamed and branded and are dubbed ‘donkey’.  This immediately put me in mind of pre-Revolutionary Indian wars.

Caesar himself has grown in stature.  Whereas he was seen as leader, he has now been elevated to legendary status.  It is befitting, then, that the shadow of Charlton Heston is cast across this film, but not Heston the last human in a mad world, this is Heston the living legend.  Caesar is whipped and enslaved by someone he swears vengeance on.  All very Ben-Hur-like.  But Caesar is trying to lead his people to the Promised Land, so he is also Moses to them.

However, this is all played out against a background which is deliberately reminiscent of The Indian wars, as well as the American slave trade, with elements of Nazi concentration camps and prisoner-of-war camps.  It’s a confusing mish-mash of allusions.


One of the most interesting plotlines involves Kurtz McCullough's reliance on 'Donkeys', collaborator apes.  Here, the gorilla known as Red is a sort of Fletcher Christian to Woody's Bligh.

And this where I started having real difficulty with the film,  It lacks clear focus.  When we finally meet the enigmatic Colonel, (played well by a very calm, restrained Woody Harrelson), he reels off the names of wartime leaders he admires - Wellington gets a mention, as do both Custer and Sitting Bull.  (He doesn’t mention Walter Kurtz, though, just saying).  When he gets his big exposition scene, to explain to Caesar when his epiphany happened and why he believes what he believes, it simply doesn’t make sense.  His grudge is against the virus that was released in the first film, not with the apes.  So, he lacks clear motivation.

Caesar’s motivations are much clearer and simpler, he wants revenge.  But that’s never a positive driving force for a protagonist.  It never ends well.  He has lost the vision of a leader and has allowed the battle to become personal.  As Colonel Kurtz McCullough mentions, Caesar is very emotional.

The film also has a confused sense of geography.  I don’t know the Americas well but, when someone says they’re heading for the Californian border, I don’t expect to see ski-lodges and snow.  I’m not saying that’s not right, but I do feel that the audience needs a bit of help understanding the journey(s) the apes make. 

I also think the film was trying to make a comment about the madness of building walls to keep out foreigners and, I suspect, that the wall in question was between America and Canada (again, I don’t associate Mexico with snow), but the point of this was lost in the plethora of other indiscriminate allusions and symbols on offer.

Added to which, director Matt Reeves clearly thinks he’s making a Viet-Nam film.  The grunts have messages written on their helmets (like the famous poster for 1987’s Full Metal Jacket).  They refer to the apes by the pun ‘Kong’ (as in, Viet-Kong) and Colonel Kurtz McCullough enjoys several similarities with Brando’s similarly spaced-out soldier.  There is even a gag, a visual reference to Apocalypse Now (1979), which made me groan out loud.  

Anyone who thinks they've spotted any stray similarities between The Colonels is clearly mad.  As mad as they are.
One expects to see fan service and popular culture references in a Marvel movie; because they are not typically dealing with issues of slavery and man’s endless history of violence and discrimination.  I did not expect, nor welcome, such gags in this film.  It should be more seriously-minded than that.

It’s worth mentioning that Serkis’ performance as Caesar continues to be miraculous, shining through the digital mask they have added.  I genuinely felt he was robbed when he didn’t receive an Oscar nomination for Dawn.  But, of course, the power of his performance was plain to see in both previous films.  Part of my disappointment with this chapter is, I think, simply that the miraculous doesn’t feel quite so miraculous third time round.

Where Weta Workshop’s CGI works brilliantly is in the new character, who calls himself ‘Bad Ape’ (because that’s the phrase he heard most from the humans).  This is a fantastic performance from Steve Zahn; but something troubled ne about him.  He’s there to mostly be the comic relief and, as I’ve indicated, that feels out-of-step in a grim film concerning mankind’s inhumanity and vanity.  But that wasn’t what niggled me about him.  I couldn’t put my finger on it, until the friend I saw the film with hit the nail on the head: “He’s Dobby the House Ape”.

That said, the special effects are flawless (one or two of the riding shots look a bit dodgy ... But riding shots often do), and there is a real scope to the visuals.  It’s certainly played out on a much larger canvas than the previous two films.  It just doesn’t feel like the story-telling has evolved as much as the apes or the technology used to create them.



Obviously they have Andy Serkis back as Caesar; cos no one can make a monkey of himself in a mo-cap suit quite like him; apart from stuntman and movement choreographer, Terry Notary; who is playing Rocket, so that's alright.

They’ve also introduced a silent child with a doll, not simply, one assumes, because she looks like Newt in Aliens (1986) but, presumably, because they wanted someone to exemplify the possible future of human/ape relations.  Her silence, which is apparently an inability to talk brought about by the mutating virus, is evidence of the human race devolving, while the ape race is growing ever more sophisticated and complex.  That’s a great idea, and one which the original Apes films - particularly Conquest Of (1972) and Battle For (1973) - addressed in various ways.  But it isn’t developed here.  So, there’s no real purpose in the child being there.  Oh, apart from the time she walks through the middle of the heavily-defended military camp and none of the soldiers notice her.  Presumably losing the ability to speak also makes one invisible.

Maurice, the Orang-Utan, once again serves as Caesar's moral compass.  And Nova's baby-sitter.
That said, these particular soldiers are significantly dumber than the apes they are guarding.

The greatest issue I had with War for the Planet of the Apes came with the actual war itself - which suddenly and conveniently kicks off in the film’s final act, just as all the other business reaches its climax.  This war, it turns out, is not really between ape and man, but between two factions of men. 

So the characters we care about are not invested in the titular war, they don’t care who wins and, therefore, neither did I.  This is not good for my emotional involvement in the culmination of a three-movie-long story arc.

As the first film did, War manages to slide in subtle references to the original Apes films, which most of the audience won’t notice.  For example, Colonel Kurtz McCullough’s logo is the Δ and Ω  used in Beneath the Planet of the Apes (1970), while the horse-riding apes enjoy a canter along the beach, much as Charlton Heston and his Nova did back in the original Planet of the Apes.

We went in to War for the Planet of the Apes filled with childish hope.  We came out deflated.  We’d had such high expectations for this film.  I’d heard rumours that it was scoring massively on Rotten Tomatoes and that maybe, finally, we had a trilogy where the films kept getting better, rather than peaking at number two.

But no.  You had your chance, guys, and you blew it.  God damn you all to Hell.


Dir:  Matt Reeves
Scriptwriters:  Mark Bomback & Matt Reeves
Cert: 12A
Dur: 140 mins