Shrek 2
IMDB LinkThe fear with sequels is always that they won’t live up to the original.
The first
Shrek was a wonderful breath of family film fresh air. Expertly animated and jam-packed with a combination of subtle Hollywood in-jokes and puerile fart gags, both kids and adults could at last genuinely enjoy the same film after years of “family” simply meaning “dull for the grown-ups” when it came to the movies. Even
Toy Story, Disney’s hugely successful and groundbreaking computer animated movie that beat Shrek to the theatres by six years, paled in comparison.
Taking the Disney mould as its muse, the first Shrek mercilessly smashed cinematic cartoon clichés in a fantastic, fantastical Disneyworld fairytale satire. At the time, the combination of superb voice talent, apparently infinite visual and verbal film references, and the fact that
Eddie Murphey’s Donkey finally demonstrated that the king of 80s film comedy had not lost his ability to invoke hilarity, helped ensure a monster hit for the then newly-formed Dreamworks studio.
Picking up shortly after where the first film left off, the second film sees Shrek (
Mike Myers) and Princess Fiona (
Cameron Diaz) return from their honeymoon and hook up with Donkey, who has been rather ineffectively house-sitting for the happy green couple. The shock of the state of their shack is as nothing to the surprise of a summons from Fiona’s parents, the King and Queen of Far, Far Away (
John Cleese and the perfectly-cast
Julie Andrews). Understandably annoyed that their once beautiful daughter is now a dumpy green ogre, and especially that she has got married without their consent to an even more hideous example of a humanoid sub-species, the King and Queen have the added embarrassment that their daughter was betrothed to the handsome Prince Charming (
Rupert Everett), and that his mother, the Fairy Godmother (
Jennifer Saunders) refuses to let the promised union go. Shrek must die to help save face all round.
So can Shrek 2 cut the magical mustard? If anything it exceeds hopes and expectations, vastly improving on the first film which, though hilarious and innovative at the time, lost much on repeat viewings. Here it is with the arrival of the assassin hired to do away with Shrek that the film really demonstrates its superiority to the original.
Antonio Banderas as the
Zorro-inspired swashbuckling Puss in Boots swaggers in and steals the film right from under the misshapen noses of the series’ original stars. Puss is a truly wonderful character, and allows Banderas to prove he really can do comedy alongside his trademark Hispanic smouldering.
This time references are even thicker and faster, ranging from
The Rocky Horror Picture Show to
Fawlty Towers, taking in a whole slew of other films and TV shows stretching back more than seventy years, fairystories stretching back centuries, and even a little bit of contemporary Hollywood studio politics. With a host of fresh characters and tonnes more quirky subtleties, the second Shrek does the reverse of Cameron Diaz’s Princess Fiona in the first film, and turns an ugly green beast into a beautifully-crafted sure-fire smash hit. If, with the hints at another sequel in the post-credits sequence, this formula can be maintained, Dreamworks are on to a long-running winner.
Raising Helen
IMDB entryCalling anything a “chick flick” risks bringing up any number of accusations of chauvinism, but here no other phrase really does justice to what is such a clichéd, unimaginative piece of emotions-by-numbers hackwork. Directed by
Gary Marshall, the man responsible for the superb but dated
Pretty Woman and its bland and boring semi-follow-up
Runaway Bride, this is the sort of film that can only really appeal to slightly emotional women in need of some kind of cheesy faux-inspirational reassurance that life works out, no matter how bad the circumstances.
The trouble with the chick flick genre is that despite all its pretence at presenting strong female characters who know how to stand up to a male-dominated world and get their own way, nine times out of ten their final message is that no woman is happy without a husband and children. In Pretty Woman, headstrong prostitute
Julia Roberts realises she is better off with a loving partner; in Runaway Bride headstrong commitment-phobic Julia Roberts realises she is better off married. In Raising Helen headstrong career-centred single woman
Kate Hudson realises she’s happiest moving to the country and settling down with a nice man and lots of children.
This is, of course, giving away the plot, which strictly no film review should ever do. But that is the other wonder of the chick flick genre: they are so patronising towards their audience’s intelligence that they inevitably ensure that the most predictable outcomes are always the ones that happen. If anyone could go in to Raising Helen, sit through the introductory set-up where Helen’s sister and brother-in-law are killed, leaving her with three children to bring up, and not know instantly that she will come to realise how wonderful family life is, they deserve all the unchallenging enjoyment they’ll get from this saccharine lump of anti-creativity.
Raising Helen is by no means a terrible film. It has, as these films always do, a catchy soundtrack to sing along to. It has some great acting talent, from the woefully under-used
Helen Mirren to the always good
Joan Cusak, the up-and-coming teenager
Hayden Panettiere, whom those likely to go and see this sort of film will no doubt recognise from her turn as
Ally McBeal’s daughter, to
John Corbett, another actor whom the target audience may recognise from
My Big Fat Greek Wedding. Hudson is also the perfect lead for this kind of film – pretty enough to keep the male audience members vaguely interested, but unthreatening.
Raisin Helen is, however, as the casting of two minor actors from two genuinely good female-centred television shows demonstrates, utterly cynical in its attempts to attract its intended audience, and entirely unimaginative in its execution of a tried and tested plot. This is
Uncle Buck for women.
If you are the sort of person who owns copies of second-rate romantic comedies like Runaway Bride,
Working Girl,
The Wedding Planner,
Maid in Manhattan or
Two Weeks’ Notice, you will no doubt soon be adding Raising Helen to your collection. For the rest of us, if you fancy something bland, can I recommend Ryvita instead? It’s cheaper, better for you, and tastes much nicer with honey.
Thunderbirds
The transition of cult television programmes to the big screen has more often than not resulted in disaster, with the abysmal Avengers movie being the most frequently cited example. In fact, one of the few cult TV shows to have successfully made the transition to the cinema has been Star Trek which, since its first film outing in 1979, managed to revive the franchise to the extent that ten more films and three more TV series have risen from the ashes of an idea that was, before Star Trek: The Motion Picture, considered utterly past it.
So perhaps it is appropriate that the director chosen to helm this big-budget, live-action version of Gerry Anderson’s seminal puppet masterpiece, Jonathan Frakes, cut his teeth as both an actor in and director of Star Trek shows and movies. He does a perfectly competent job, backed up with some colourful sets and the all-important International Rescue machines – of which, as it should be, the hulking green Thunderbird 2 looks by far the coolest.
Although fans of the original 1960s puppet-based series might wish for rather more nods to the source material, it must be remembered that the original show was intended for children, no matter how much adults may have enjoyed it. Frakes has the kids, rather than their nostalgic parents, firmly in mind with this offering - so much so that the Tracey brothers who make up International Rescue barely feature, trapped in space and having to rely on their youngest brother and his pubescent friends to save the day. Witty jokes about their wooden acting being appropriate considering the source material are inevitable, albeit slightly unfair. Lady Penelope and her chauffer Parker (played by the superb pairing of Sophia Myles and Ron Cook) are a nice nod to the past, but there are few other concessions to the old fans. This is unlikely to have the cross-generational appeal of a Shrek 2 or a Harry Potter.
The film’s other big flaw in the summer blockbuster stakes is its lack of recognisable stars. Sir Ben Kingsley hamming it up as International Rescue’s evil arch nemesis The Hood (effectively a cross between 1930s B-movie staples Fu-Manchu and Ming the Merciless), the bland Bill Paxton as chief Thunderbird Jeff Tracey, and Anthony Edwards as Brains are the closest the film gets to big names, and none of them are likely to be instantly recognisable to the young target audience.
In a summer with films like Harry Potter (boasting almost every major British actor still working) and Shrek 2 (with some of both Hollywood and Blighty’s biggest names), it remains to be seen whether a movie with a large cast of almost complete unknowns, directed by a man best known for zooming around in space sporting a beard, can hack it with the big boys.
Spider-Man 2
Despite the fact that more than half the movie was devoted to explaining its hero’s origins in a fairly standard rendition of the comic book version, despite some occasionally dodgy special effects, and despite the fact that cult director Sam Raimi seemed to have been forced to reign in his usual comic flair with such a big budget project, the first Spider-Man did wonders at the box office. It was a great opening film in a franchise, setting up where all the main characters come from, throwing some complexities into their relationships, and leaving the audience with some unresolved tension to tug them back to the cinema for the second instalment. It just felt a little bland.
Spider-Man 2 is a far superior entity. Having got all the explanations out of the way, the sequel can focus its attention on plot and action, and delivers in spades. Raimi has been given free reign to indulge in some of his trademark quirks, with sight-gag homages to his Evil Dead series (the star of which, Bruce Campbell, makes a cameo appearance here as he did in the first Spider-Man), and makes full use of the broad widescreen ratio to which the second instalment has upgraded. It is clear that some of the effects shots of the first movie seemed less impressive simply because they weren’t big enough.
Yes, this is a superhero movie, so the basic plot is fairly predictable – a powerful villain comes along who’s a major challenge to our man, and they fight a lot. Here, the villain is Dr Octopus – a once mild-mannered scientist driven insane when an experiment goes wrong and he is left with giant robotic tentacle-arms grafted onto his body. With a pitch-perfect performance from little-known Brit Alfred Molina – a stranger to such a large film who rises to the challenge with aplomb – Doc Ock is an ideal enemy for Spidey: intelligent, tortured and powerful, just like our hero himself.
Tobey Maguire also gives a superb turn in the title role. Here, Spider-Man’s alter-ego Peter Parker is having a tough time coping in the big city, but Maguire manages to avoid coming across as simply a whining geek, which was always a danger in the first film. Perhaps the actor’s near-crippling back pains, which came on after the first film and nearly resulted in him being replaced by Jake (The Day After Tomorrow) Gyllenhaal, have helped focus him on the performance – or maybe it was the reputed $17million paypacket, more than four times his earnings for the first film.
Either way, it is a more mature, considered and stylish Spider-Man that greets audiences here – albeit one still brimming with youthful hopes and fears. This is a darker, more emotionally complex, more action-packed and more enjoyable film than its predecessor. It builds on everything that was good, and has overcome all that was bad to deliver a truly masterful piece of popcorn perfection – pure exciting, entertaining excellence.
It seems a sad state of affairs when the two films most likely and most deserving of the status of biggest, best blockbuster of the summer are sequels. But when the quality of the material is as high as it is here and with Shrek 2, and when both sequels are definite improvements on the originals, it seems somewhat churlish to complain.
King Arthur
You can just picture the Disney executives sitting around their big table, puffing on fat cigars bought with the piles of money they’ve been raking in since the success of last year’s Pirates of the Caribbean:
“Epics are doing well at the moment. There’s that Troy one, and Alexander, and that Hannibal flick about that dude with the elephants. People are loving this whole ancient Greece and Rome vibe after Gladiator, and that Lord of the Rings thing seemed to go down quite well too. So we need an epic with a mix of wizards and Romans. And that Keira Knightly chick from Pirates who everyone liked, but wearing fewer clothes this time.”
In swaggers Jerry Bruckheimer, the über-producer responsible for more summer blockbusters than pretty much anybody:
“Gentlemen,” he says, “King Arthur. It’s got instant name recognition, battles, wizards and a love triangle between Arthur, Guinevere and Lancelot for a bit of sexual tension and conflict between friends. We can even claim it’s ‘historically accurate’, set it in the fourth century A.D. and chuck in some Romans. Sorted. All bases covered.”
Everyone knows about King Arthur and his knights of the Round Table. Fifteen hundred years after his first mention, books continue to be written about Arthur in their droves. There have been scores of films about Arthur and his knights, from the hilarious Monty Python and the Holy Grail through John Boorman’s arty Excalibur to the musical Camelot. The last Arthur film, the Richard Gere vehicle First Knight, did well at the box office despite being abject rubbish.
So why does this film feel a bit flat? Bruckheimer’s movies work best when they have a strong, wisecracking lead – Johnny Depp in Pirates of the Caribbean, Sean Connery in The Rock, Will Smith in Bad Boys or Eddie Murphy in Beverley Hills Cop. When this seems like it won’t work, Bruckheimer always comes up with spectacle: supersonic dogfights in Top Gun, asteroids smashing into things in Armageddon, battleships exploding in Pearl Harbor, frenetic street battles in Black Hawk Down, semi-naked women in Coyote Ugly, or fast cars in Gone in Sixty Seconds and Days of Thunder.
This should be blockbuster by numbers. Get a handsome male lead who’s being hotly tipped as the next James Bond (Clive Owen), hire the guy who wrote Gladiator to tackle the script, make sure most of the cast are British with a few cult names like Ray Winstone and Ioan Gruffud to keep the critics interested, hire an actor with a slightly sinister European accent (Stallan Skarsgård) as the villain, and throw in loads of battles.
The problem lies in the “historical” premise. With an Arthur film you want knights in shining armour galloping magnificently into battle with lances raised across lush green fields, not leather-bound, blue-painted savages screaming as they bound through the mist and rain. You want Merlin the magician, not Merlin the moderately clever chap. You want lead actors who feel able to emote, not deliver all their lines in a monotone to highlight how serious everything is. Most importantly you want an Arthur who’s British, not a member of the Roman army.
But from a cinematic point of view there is a worse problem. King Arthur just doesn’t draw you in. There is no feeling of connection to the bewildering array of too-similar characters or the unfolding events. It lacks that x-factor which makes a great, entertaining film. It has no real heart.
Legend has it that King Arthur will one day return. This Arthur, sadly, is an impostor.
Garfield
The first rule of making a movie based around an existing character from another medium is: know your audience. When it was decided to adapt Ian Fleming’s James Bond books in the early 1960s, it was evident that young men would be the main group interested. When they started the Scooby Doo franchise a couple of years back, it was targeted solidly at the kids. Although both Bond and Scooby had potential to interest cinemagoers from outside the core group, they were not made with that intention, so avoided appearing undecided. It is rare that a Harry Potter or a Lord of the Rings comes along which can appeal to a broad audience from both sexes and all age groups.
So what is Garfield’s target audience? Back when the comic strip the film is based on was actually read by anyone, both children and adults seemed to enjoy the sarcastic quips of the fat ginger cat. But that was fifteen years ago. At least. Now it’s hard to see why they bothered. From being the world’s favourite cartoon strip during the 1980s, Garfield has faded into obscurity. The children the film seems to be aimed at are unlikely to have any idea who the central kitty is and their parents will soon remember why they stopped caring.
Then there’s the added problem that the Garfield strips were only ever three panels long, and only ever featured one joke: Garfield was quite intelligent but very, very lazy. The fat cat hero of the piece never actually did anything, and that was the whole point. As much as this may work in a short comic strip, translating a one-joke, one-note character into the centrepiece of a feature-length film is somewhat more tricky.
To give the filmmakers credit they have at least forked out for the only actor capable of voicing the lasagne-loving laconic lard-ass – the wonderful Bill Murray. When Garfield was turned into an animated kids’ TV series in the late 1980s, the chubby cat was voiced by the fabulously named Lorenzo Music, best known for his turn impersonating Murray while playing his character from Ghostbusters in that classic movie’s animated spin-off. For the live-action Garfield they’ve got the man himself.
Unfortunately Murray appears to have been on autopilot for this one, and the supporting cast are equally uninspired. Jennifer Love-Hewitt seems included purely to appeal to any men in the audience. The human lead, Garfield’s long-suffering owner Jon (Breckin Mayer), is so dull as to easily explain why Garfield spends most of his time bored witless. The contrived plot simply provides episodic set-ups for fairly uninspired gags taken straight out of the comic strip.
Cats are meant to have nine lives. Garfield’s first was as a comic strip, his second as an animated cartoon, his third as a car decoration. In his fourth incarnation as the centrepiece of an attempt to capture the family filmgoing market, the flabby feline has disproved that other myth about cats – they don’t always land on their feet. Sometimes, as here, they fall far short of their capabilities, and end up embarrassing everyone unfortunate enough to be watching.
