Film Review: Midnight In Paris

*WARNING: SPOILERS*

On holiday with his fiancee Inez (McAdams), Hollywood screenwriter Gil (Wilson) takes to wandering Paris' left bank in search of a cure to his creative block. Harking back to the 1920s when a plethora of famous expatriate artists such as F. Scott Fitzgerald and Ernest Hemmingway called Paris their home, Gil stumbles upon an unexpected source of literary inspiration.

Gil is unfulfilled in his soulless job as a Hollywood script doctor, longing to write a novel which would see him join the pantheon alongside his literary heroes. His superficial fiancee however holds him back, dissuading him from committing to his aspirations in favour of him continuing to pull in the big bucks from his uninspiring Hollywood career. Unsupportive and belittling of his desires, materialistic Inez is more inclined to spend time in Paris shopping, dining with her Tea Party-supporting parents and gallivanting with her invidious pseudo-intellectual friend, Paul (Sheen), rather than let Gil engorge his reluctant muse. That is until Gil takes a midnight stroll only to take a thaumaturgic trip back to 1920s Paris.

Woody Allen has managed to create a wonderfully whimsical tale wholly unconcerned with the mechanics of time travel. Instead, Gil strolls around Paris waiting for midnight to chime when he is picked up by another inebriated chimerical artist in an old Peugeot which whisks him off to hang out with other fabled artists from the period. But there is also a lesson here. There is a tendency to look back on a previous era as an ideal that is better than the present. The central thrust is to grasp your own time, something Gil only realises when delightful love interest Adriana (Cottilard) hastens him to the la belle epoque era of the 1890s to meet Henri Matisse. As the pompous Paul puts it, "Nostalgia is a from of denial". Indeed, no one ever considers their age to be 'golden', even if posterity deems it so.

This is probably the most likeable of all Owen Wilson's roles, genuine and entirely unassuming. He's believably enthused and incredulous at the same time that he's meeting his heroes, and that they're also so accommodating and encouraging of his efforts on his novel in a way his fiancee is not. But then, they weren't legends themselves at the time, constantly encountering and competing against aspiring writers like Gil at Gertrude Stein's (Bates) salon. The other showstopper is Marion Cottilard's Adriana, airy and graceful, emanating a breeze you can't help but feel attracted toward. We meet her as Picasso's bit on the side, but she and Gil soon form a bond which evolves into a love interest. It is Gil's humility which she is attracted to, diametrically opposed to the super egos of troubled genius artists she has previously dated. However, perhaps what's most disappointing is how fleeting the moments spent with Gil's artisan heroes are. From Corey Stoll's portrayal of a very masculine yet tentatively insightful Hemmingway to Adrien Brody's amusing Salvador Dali, you just wish to see more of them. Back in the present McAdams is perfect as off-putting pushy fiance Inez as is Michael Sheen's odious Paul, the self-proclaimed cultural expert whose obnoxious behaviour is typified when he tries to correct a museum tour guide played delightfully, if not briefly, by France's First Lady Carla Bruni.

Darius Khondji's cinematography beautifully captures Paris in the way postcard pictures have evoked so many people's imaginations of the city. Yes, it conveniently ignores all the shit parts, but this is Woody Allen's love letter to gay Paree. Directed with grace and wit, Midnight In Paris is light, completely enamouring and an absolute gem.

Film Review: Predators

Arguably up until now there has only really been one truly great movie featuring one of film's most iconic aliens, the Predator, and that was the original 1987 release where the ruthless hunter was first introduced. Since then we've had its sequel, Predator 2, Aliens vs. Predator and Aliens vs. Predator: Requiem - all of which were utter gobshite. Given the legacy of shit films featuring the Predator, it is a bit of a wonder why the creature has persisted in pop culture for all these years. So one can quite understandably view this latest rendition with some trepidation and suspicion, given the precedence that has been set.

Fortunately, Predators is a very good and highly enjoyable film. It is easy to see what director Nimrod Antal has gone for here. He has brought the franchise full circle, back to its roots - a bunch of tough guys sporting over the top weaponry running around in a jungle from an invisible Predator. It was this concept which made the original great, so whilst it offers nothing new in the evolution of the Predator universe, nor does it enhance our understanding of these creatures, it does stick with what it knows best. And with that, makes it very difficult to balls up.

In this outing we are not subjected to the jungles of Earth, rather, Predators sees eight humans - military personnel and criminals - abducted and air-dropped onto an alien world. These people, representing humanity's own most vicious predators, quickly band together to ensure their survival, all the while being stalked by an invisible enemy. What comes next is a myriad of suspense punctuated by loud gunfire as one-by-one the humans are picked off.

Upon first glance at the cast one might raise an eyebrow at the casting of Adrien Brody as main tough guy. Certainly, Brody nowhere near fills Schwarzenegger's extra large fatigues, but when the shirt finally does come off it is clear that the otherwise scrawny figure has logged some serious gym time. Other than Royce (Brody), the supporting cast are not particularly fleshed out, as would be expected with this kind of movie. Given that they're all there merely to die anyway, this is understandable. Subsequently they all fall into generic archetypes. Further, to add some sense that these humans represent all of Earth rather than just plucked from the United States, they all come under painfully clichéd stereotypes. We have the South American member of a drug cartel (Trejo), the humongous beast from the east sporting a fuck-off chain gun (Taktarov), African Death Squad murderer (Ali), the silent Japanese dude who is instantly obvious as a member of the Yakuza (Changchien) and redneck serial-killer on death row (Goggins).

There is also a brief cameo from Laurence Fishburne who plays a crazed survivor from a previous hunt, but the only other character in the film to gain a bit of character development is Alice Braga's heroine IDF sniper. Otherwise the film focuses on Brody's lone-gun efforts. As for the Predators themselves, again this film misses an opportunity to explain them further. We still don't know why an Alien species which has achieved space flight is so obsessed with big game hunting. Consequently, the Predators are merely conceived in terms of how bad-ass they look.

Predators is never dull and bounds along at a frantic pace. One of the more interesting scenes was where the Yakuza character Hanzo takes on a Predator with his samurai sword. Whilst in one sense it is quite cool, it does require you to suspend belief over how ridiculous it is. Equally, and perhaps more humorously is where psycho-murderer, Stans, uses his prison shank on a Predator screaming "die, space faggot!". Unlike the 1987 Predator, Predators relies more on short bursts of intense violence rather than making it one big gore feast. This is producer Robert Rodriguez's influence, who back in 1994 penned the film's script before handing it over to Antal to refine further. What Predators amounts to is essentially 'Predator 3'. However, unlike anything previous post-Predator, this is actually a very welcome addition to the franchise.

Film Review: Splice

In a sort of modern day take on Mary Shelley's Frankenstein, Splice sees two geneticists Clive (Brody) and Elsa (Polley) employed by a mega-corp splicing different animal DNA to create entirely new species. Weirdly, their successful first cross-breed bares great resemblance to a certain male sex organ. The goal is to be able to extract a strand of protein which can be used to treat all manner of illnesses. When the board of directors (represented, to my great delight, by David Hewlett, Rodney McKay in Stargate) that fund the research demand a big win to keep stockholders happy, Elsa takes the bold and potentially hazardous step of throwing human DNA into the mix, creating 'Dren'.

Ostensibly Dren's parents, the two biochemists struggle over how to treat her; as a scientific experiment or to emotionally nurture and love her. Splice is an unsettling film which gives one great big nod to Freudian psychoanalytical theory, hitting every note until the plot becomes almost predictable. From the 'Electra complex' narrative to the 'mirror stage' of child development and childhood trauma, Splice ticks all the boxes. All this comes to an unnerving crescendo when Clive, Elsa and Dren all lose control and submit to their impulses.

Performance wise Brody is great as usual, shining in these low budget indie films as he typically does. Polley is also convincing as the troubled scientist-come-mother as both characters create enough empathy to care about them as they descend into madness. Far from proving heroic figures, both characters are archetypes; Clive the more practical of the two and embodying manliness and Polley 'damaged goods', whose own unspeakable past reflects on her mothering of Dren. Delphine Chaneac who plays adult Dren, despite having virtually no talking parts whatsoever, manages to form an emotional connection with the audience without becoming ridiculous, even whilst looking like Patrick Stewart.

Splice is a decent movie with solid ideas arranged in all the right places, but it feels like it's missing something. Unfortunately the plot is largely predictable and the climax becomes disjointed from the first three-quarters of the film as it degenerates into a stereotypically cheesy horror affair. However, it is incredibly creepy and certainly is an acquired taste.