Monday 9 June 2014

Blue Ruin

The Coen Brothers have a lot to answer for when it comes to taut indie thrillers, their arresting debut Blood Simple showing what you can do with minimal budget and a decent script. But as director Jeremy Saulnier said in a recent interview, indie thrillers are currently thin on the ground. Having clearly traversed the festival circuit more than once, the average indie film - in Saulnier's words - is usually more “about people moving apartments, or painting a wall. They [are] really mundane. I like escapism, I like thrills and chills.” With what he's concocted in Blue Ruin, those thrills and chills are in rare abundance.

A bedraggled, unkempt fellow going by the name of Dwight (Macon Blair) has - for reasons unknown - become a vagrant, sleeping rough in his rust-bucket car, windows flecked with condensation as he gets moved along by ambling Police patrols on a seemingly regular basis. But a visit to a local prison to see the release of the man who wronged him changes all that. That evening, approaching his target in a dank sweat-soaked club, things go decidedly claret-coloured - though not in the slam-bang Hollywood sense. This is crime committed in a way that feels about as real as it should, dangerous, messy and truly frightening, without the wail of Police sirens even when flesh is being pierced by store-bought scalpels. It's from here on in that Dwight is on the run, being tracked down by the family of the man he's murdered, wholly unprepared for the slew of violence that unfolds in the wake of his ill-conceived plan.

As is the case with many indie films we're not spoon-fed a plot, the dots are there but the viewer needs to do the joining (least of all with a bit of mumbled dialogue in its early scenes, though anyone who's waded through the murky-accented backwaters of True Detective and its ilk should have no issues whatsoever). However Blue Ruin's dots are deceptively simple, it being a pure revenge thriller in its leanest, meanest terms. The fact that a jet-black comic streak runs through its blood-red veins means the influence of a Coen or two never feels far away, though admittedly it's a little unfair to be touting Saulnier as the next big thing in the thriller genre when he's hardly had time to stretch his legs (pigeon-holing can be a dangerous thing - see M. Night Shyamalan for further reference of building up/knocking down). It does a fine job of its visual effects too; knife wounds, bullet holes and even a crossbow injury are all covered in gruesome close-up, adding a sense of gut-wrenching reality to proceedings without over-egging the meaty pudding.

In fact writing this review has made me want to watch it again, which is never a bad thing where any film is concerned - it's done its job and then some. As with fellow thriller-baiting gorehound Ben Wheatley (Kill List, Sightseers), Saulnier should hopefully go on to expand his repertoire and show us he's got much more up his sleeve to show us - on the strength of Blue Ruin, he deserves a fair crack of the cinematic whip.

Saturday 7 June 2014

Edge of Tomorrow

Or as myself and my good lady Claire prefer to call it, Live. Die. Repeat. Emblazoned across the entire marketing campaign for Cruise's latest sci-fi vehicle (after last year's somewhat iffy Oblivion) is that tagline, looking every inch like the better of two titles, the actual moniker shuffled unceremoniously towards the bottom of posters and standees as if best forgotten. I'm aware I've started two reviews with poster references and to be fair I'm not really sure where I'm going with this, other than to say for the record that Live. Die. Repeat. is a much better title than Edge of Tomorrow. Here endeth the lesson.

To pull focus back to the film itself, it's a rare thing for cinema to offer up even a modicum of originality these days. I don't say that disparagingly, more an observation that for some time we've arguably been at a finite limit of what Hollywood's collective imaginations can actually dream up. Edge of Tomorrow is no exception. Pulling together elements of Groundhog Day, The Matrix, Aliens and Saving Private Ryan - along with a myriad other sci-fi/war films too numerous to mention - it's a film that on paper should feel rote and tired, dripping with cliché, with a somewhat incredulous time travel plot thrown into the mix to try and shake things up. But after a ropey first half hour it manages to squeeze a sizeable dollop of pleasingly re-hashed entertainment right into your lap, a Cruise-Blunt cocktail of big daft fun with a smattering of Bill Paxton sprinkled on top. And everyone likes Bill Paxton, don't they?

It's the near future, and Cruise is Major William Cage - a TV-ready military spokesperson with no combat experience whatsoever. The world has been invaded by aliens (what, again? Really? Jesus), or as they're otherwise known 'mimics', a race of angry types in the vein of the machine sentinels Keanu Reeves' Neo fought off ages ago. With the human race fighting what seems to be an unwinnable war against these multi-limbed foes, it befalls Brendan Gleeson to first phone in his performance as General Brigham, and secondly to put Cage front and centre of a high-profile attack on the mimics in a vain attempt to win back public support for the campaign. Fast-forward about 20 minutes and Cage's death during an insane beach-front military assault seems a foregone conclusion - and it is, his face melted clean off by the blood of a mimic... and then he wakes up, to face the day all over again.

That's the plot over with, then. And despite ticking all the requisite boxes for adolescent boys (stock military grunts, aggressive but beautiful women, big fuck-off guns and growly aliens) it really does test the patience of anyone older than about fourteen, the script alone throwing out some first-rate zingers that really should have ended up on the cutting room floor. But it pays to stick with it, because once The Cruiser wakes up after his plot-inducing death it kicks into another gear entirely, and you can very easily start to forgive - even understand - its atypical setup. Director Doug Liman (The Bourne Identitywants you to dislike these people, to empathise with Cage having to endure them day after day, his only real salvation being the friendship-cum-romance shared with Rita Vrataski (Emily Blunt) who may hold the answers as to why he's now seemingly immortal, and how the war might actually be won.

Its worth noting that the film's May/June release date was somewhat timely, the parallels the beach-bound battle has with the D-Day landings (which have just celebrated their 70th anniversary) about as blatant as can be. Edge of Tomorrow may be a big, loud sci-fi film, and a 12A at that, but it certainly doesn't shy away from the fact that war in any form is brutal, and death is inescapable (unless you happen to wake up afterwards - but it's Cruise, I mean he would, wouldn't he). Much has also been made of the fact that this is a 'clever' film, sci-fi to tax your brain cells as well as your adrenaline glands; and while not quite in the same league as Blade Runner or 2001: A Space Odyssey, its nice to see an original film (well, as original as you can get these days) batting in the same ballpark. Rian Johnson's Looper would be a nice film to shelve it next to, or even George Nolfi's The Adjustment Bureau (the fact that Emily Blunt is in all three is just a happy coincidence, surely...?).

Don't expect a masterpiece, but do expect some solid fun, a kick-ass performance from Blunt and a gentle cerebral massage - if you're able to ignore a few cringey lines the script can't help but throw in. It's currently my blockbuster of the summer, and paves the way nicely for Dawn of the Planet of the Apes and Christopher Nolan's Interstellar in November. What's that I hear you say, multiple serious sci-fi flicks with critical plaudits to boot? Who knows, maybe Transformers 4 might be the brain-flexing dialogue-driven addition to the franchise we've all been waiting for. Then again, maybe not.