Film Review: The Ides Of March

It seems somewhat felicitous that there be a film about the race to find America's next presidential candidate, although following the current Republican primaries one might certainly be able to mash all the footage into a political drama. Scratch that, satire. But what if Hollywood could elect the next Commander and Chief? No doubt the forerunner would be that genial, pulchritudinous man named George Clooney. If Mr. Obama were found to be slacking in his presidential duties, then perhaps the director, co-writter, star and appointed liberal ambassador for Hollywood might make a fitting replacement.

Stephen Myers (Gosling) is a campaign manager with ethical boundaries. A man who believes that the system will ultimately allow only those with the most sincerest convictions to become President of the United States. As such he carries out his work on behalf Governor Mike Morris (Clooney), a charismatic Democrat vying for the White House, with utmost conviction. But when revelations involving campaign volunteer Molly (Wood) surface, coupled with the increasing skullduggery of rival campaign manager Tom Duffy (Giamatti), Myers is soon embroiled in a political dilemma which will test his moral fibre.

The Ides Of March of course refers to that famed Shakespearean play where Julius Caesar's imperial ambitions were succinctly snuffed out by a gaggle of conspirators, and it is a familiar story here. First, this is a reasonably sophisticated, solicitous, well-crafted political thriller with a cast of heavy-hitters which impressively pull everything together. Yet while the political intrigue created throughout the film is certainly clever, like any political drama it features the predictable tropes we have come to expect of the genre. That is to say ambitious with allusions of intellectual grandeur, yet ironically broadly similar in its themes of political backstabbing and shady characters.

Speaking of characters, Gosling's Myers is a strange one - kind of like an enigmatic plankton inhabiting a world of political sharks. While portrayed as a sagacious spin-doctor who knows the tricks of the trade and how to work the media, he still remains curiously naive to the dirty realities he faces everyday. What's even more incredulous is how it takes a typical human flaw in Morris' character to set off an over-the-top chain reaction involving feelings of personal betrayal. Most flabbergasting of all the revelations to Myers however is that, shock horror, politics is not all unicorns and rainbows. Given all the perfidious political manoeuvres witnessed up until this point, you begin to wonder how this supposedly politically savvy wonder kid has made it this far and indeed, if he's even mentally stable.

In essence The Ides Of March is a Faustian tale in the same ilk as The Ghost Writer, Wag The Dog or In The Loop. While a popular concept these days given people's disillusion with politics, this is still very much a well executed film. It is a smart (enough), slick, efficacious effort with some fine acting which makes this more than worth watching. However, while the cast is excellent, the substance is as deceitful as an MP's expenses claim. Just don't be surprised that despite the glitz and soundbites, it doesn't make good on all its election promises.

Film Review: Win Win

Well-meaning family man, lawyer and part-time high-school wrestling coach Mike Flaherty (Giamatti) is struggling under the economic recession. Unable to tell his loving wife Jackie (Ryan) that he's failing to make ends meet and fed up by the unfairness of it all, Mike sneakily takes on the guardianship of wealthy but demented client, Leo (Young), when he discovers his estate will pay $1,500 a month to the legal guardian. Leo wishes to stay at home, but Mike double-crosses his client and sticks him in a nursing home while pocketing the monthly commission. Suddenly Leo's grandson, Kyle (Shaffer), arrives in town who also happens to be a champion teen-wrestler. When Kyle begins wrestling for Mike's high-school team he thinks himself in a win win situation, that is until the lies, responsibilities and guilt begin to unravel.

There was always the risk that the wrestling element in Win Win could turn it into your stereotypical sports final showdown cliche by the third act, and while there is a 'big match', it is dealt with in such an unconventional way vis-a-vis Hollywood that it doesn't fall foul of the same traps. While all the elements for a cliched comedy sports drama are here (illegal trusteeships, a sucky sports team, gregarious coaches, substance abusing mothers and the main character's misdeeds unravelled), Win Win deals with these issues with humility and poise. It is this which makes it endearing more than anything, the very plausible, honest and authentic aura its characters and screenplay effuse.

Indeed, this is a very human story about a man presented with an unethical opportunity, also walking a familiar path of normal lives being interrupted by strangers. As Mike tries to conceal his actions things inevitably get complicated and more cracks begin to appear in his web of lies. However it is writer and director Tom McCarthy's deep, multilayered characters which make this particularly enthralling. All feel real to the point where these people could just as easily be you and me. As a consequence it is doubly fascinating to watch them deal with events as they unfold. Would you do the same? Realistically, you probably would too. It is this which provides Win Win's hook - realistic characters which bring gravitas to proceedings and can easily relate to.

Giamatti is excellent as stressed family man who means well but just seems to stray from the straight and narrow when he decides he's had enough playing by the rules. Shaffer is the real showstopper however, effortlessly convincing and so natural as your typical American teenager that you wonder if he's just being himself (he was actually a very successful high-school wrestler in real life as well!). The supporting cast is also excellent, Mike's best friend, Terry (Cannavale), dealing with a divorce is superb and Jeffrey Tambor as Mike's accountant and assistant wrestling coach dourly droll as usual. Likewise, it's always a pleasure to see Burt Young in action showing what a good actor he is, too often remembered only for Paulie in Rocky. Perhaps the only role that seemed underdeveloped is that of Cindy (Lynskey), Kyle's mother. She seems strangely out of place but then that may be because you won't be able to look at her as anyone other than Rose from Two and a Half Men.

Frustratingly though everything is wrapped up a little too neatly and unambiguously by the end, but it compensates by taking the interesting route to get there which makes it all the more engrossing. What's most appealing is that it doesn't try to trick you with any cheap emotive techniques. While Win Win is a warm, heartfelt film, it maintains a tough backbone meaning it never gets too sappy. Certainly it lives up to its description as a comedy, but never in a scripted, gag-reel kind of way. This, coupled with its genuineness firmly puts this down as a win in my book.

Film Review: Ironclad

The story of democracy in Britain is often portrayed to begin and end with the signing of the Magna Carta in 1215. However, unbeknownst to many, the signing of this legendary document wasn't the end of it. Never really intending to grant the unprecedented liberties he felt coerced into signing, bad King John quickly sought to reverse the charter by eliminating the rebel barons. Standing in his way was the strategically situated Rochester Castle, manned by only a few-hundred rebels. Ironclad seeks to shed light on this little known annex of British history, but it is less historical fact than it is a rewrite of The Magnificent Seven.

Ironclad pretty much picks up where Ridley Scott's Robin Hood left off. 1215. Having been forced to sign the Magna Carta, King John (Giamatti) hires a bunch of Danish mercenaries to eradicate the Barons which humiliated him. Dispersed and reluctant to fight, only one Baron, William de Albany (Cox) stands in King John's way. Pulling together less than a dozen men, including a highly trained Templar Knight, Marshall (Purefoy), Albany's band of merry men must hold onto the strategically positioned Rochester Castle until the French arrive to bail them out (no joke).

Simply, Ironclad is a gore-fest aimed at indiscriminate action fans. It is not a historical epic by any means, sacrificing accuracy for a cheesy tale of stoic heroism that will appeal to teenage boys' wet dreams of 300-style martyrdom. Indeed, there aren't the hundreds of rebels which history (well, wikipedia) suggests. Instead, the defending rebels have been whittled down to less than twenty, facing a barbaric horde of thousands of vikings in countless monotonous shots of close-up limb hacking.

The characters are the stock standard for this kind of affair. Mackenzie Crook plays some sort of Legolas role as a crack-shot archer, there's some tough guy, some guy with questionable morals but who's probably good at heart, and your quiet, stoic, hero-type who hacks off limbs in really cool ways and speaks little, but when he does it's invariably profound. Of course, Purefoy's Marshall is going to provide the main attraction for any medieval wench, and Kate Mara's Lady Isabel provides the eye candy as a horny harlot bent on destroying Marshall's years of devotion to God through his vow of chastity. It is actually quite cringe-worthy to watch Marshall spend half his time trying to fend off the increasingly comic come-ons of the sex-starved Lady Isabel, who slinks around the castle like a half-minded sex pest. Perhaps the most enjoyable parts however involve Giamatti's King John as a permanently irate arsehole. He's petty and cruel like a deranged toddler with a divine birthright making for a good villain. And yet he inevitably suffers from the same flaws as everybody else in this movie; being wholly one-dimensional.

Ironclad is your quintessential prefabricated medieval romp but feels about as epic as a TV mini-series. You can never really take it very seriously, even being slightly reminiscent of Monty Python and the Holy Grail  in some parts as King John and the Albany hurl insults at each other over the battlements. "You're no more a king than the boil on my arse" bellows the Baron as you half expect the retort "I fart in your general direction. Your mother was a hamster and your father smelt of elderberries". Like sieges in general, Ironclad is slow, dull and monotonous, punctuated by the occasional gratuitous violence.

Film Review: The Hangover Part II

The Hangover part 1 became something of sleeper hit when it was released in 2009. Ever since we've been wanting more of 'the wolfpack', and writer and director Todd Phillips has duly delivered. In the interim, we had to put up with the frankly awful Due Date, which promised to be as good, but failed to deliver on every level. However, Todd's redemption would be consummated if the The Hangover Part II proved to be a return to form...

The plot is much the same as the first. Phil (Cooper), Stu (Helms) and Alan (Galifianakis) awake in a hotel room unable to recall the previous night's events. The only differences are that instead of Las Vegas, they're now in Thailand, instead of it being Doug's (Bartha) wedding, it's now Stu's, and instead of Doug having gone missing, it is Stu's fiance's brother, Teddy (Lee). And so the wolfpack must follow a shattered path of monks and monkeys in order to find Teddy before the big day is ruined.

They say that if it ain't broke, then don't fix it, and there is a degree of truth to this statement. But by the same token it doesn't allow any innovation or creativity, which is the problem with The Hangover Part II. It is quite literally an exact copy of the first film, only in another country. The first time round the formula worked a charm. It was something refreshing and different, cleverly arranging a dumb comedy about a stag night that omits all the 'good stuff' about the night itself and assembles the specifics in memento style flashbacks. One would think that by relocating to the one place on Earth more seedier than Sin City, Bangkok, there would be a wealth more of material to do something different. Rather than using this, Phillips has gone for an exact replication of the first film. In The Hangover each successive event was more audacious than the last which brought surprise and ensuing hilarity. But instead of trying something different, Phillips attempts to copy and paste each scene from the first movie in like for like fashion. While everything is 'bigger', in some feigned vain to make the film more epic, none of it is really an as enjoyable 'WTF' moment as in the first film. Indeed, a lot of it feels padded, especially one story arc involving Paul Giamatti which is particularly devoid of laughs.

All the elements that worked in The Hangover Part II's predecessor, including the characters, have been ramped up a notch to 'just insane'. Where in the first film we found sympathy and charm in Alan, in Part II he has purposely been made more retarded to the point where you almost start to wince. Indeed, Galifianakis' niche as a socially challenged slob is beginning to become tired, fast. While the roles of Phil and Stu as anchoring character and 'the guy all the crazy shit happens to' respectively haven't really evolved, there are two new additions which do add something a bit new. The first is a drug dealing monkey who smokes and acts like people, but it is Ken Jeong's Mr. Chow, endowed with a much larger role, who gets most of the laughs this time out.

The Hangover Part II is essentially more Kanye West, more nudity, more gross outs, but above all, more of the same. And it is because having seen it all before that it is not as funny or original. If you want more of the same then ye shall receive, but it is ultimately disappointing that it shies away from even trying to improve upon the first.