Film Review: The Dark Knight Rises

Certificate: 12A (intense sequences of violence and action, some sensuality and language)
Directed By: Christopher Nolan
Cast: Christian Bale, Michael Caine, Gary Oldman, Anne Hathaway, Tom Hardy, Marion Cotillard, Joseph Gordon-Levitt, Morgan Freeman
Budget: $250 million
Runtime: 164 minutes
Trailer: Watch

The bar that Nolan set with The Dark Knight was so high that there was always the risk that he could become a victim of his own success. In hushed voices people doubted if The Dark Knight Rises would ever be able to hurdle it. Specifically, topping the intensity displayed by Heath Ledger's Joker was always going to be a tall order, and certainly it hasn't been done here. Indeed, the comparisons were always inevitable. But The Dark Knight was one of those rare movie events, the kind of film that doesn't come around often which makes any measurement against it somewhat unyielding. Trilogies are also a notoriously difficult thing to nail, but if there's one man you'd want at the helm it's Christopher Nolan, a man who has yet to make a truly terrible film. And with that, one can safely say that The Dark Knight Rises is one of the most fitting conclusions to a trilogy ever made.

Eight years after the Joker brought a little anarchy to Gotham, the city is at peace and Bruce Wayne (Bale) lives as a recluse within the confines of Wayne Manor. But when cat burglar Selina Kyle (Hathaway) spurs Bruce into donning the mask and cape again he soon unearths a fire rising beneath the streets of Gotham, stoked by a gas mask wearing radical named Bane (Hardy).

In true Nolan fashion, The Dark Knight Rises is very much a film of our time. The stakes are even more portentous where if you thought the Joker's plot was audacious, you haven't seen anything yet. Maniac Bane brands himself as champion of the disenfranchised, issuing a call to arms not to the criminals of Gotham, but to the '99%' lingering in economic recession to take back from those who have exploited them. But this is a smokescreen, a game of shadows masking a far more nefarious plot to tear Gotham apart. The Dark Knight Rises' themes are certainly interesting, raising issues of bankers, occupiers, vengeance and lost hope on an epic and personal scale, and it is these things which you will probably take most from the film. This is a bleak and wholly realistic apocalyptic scenario, something almost tangible in a mirror image to our world. Where the Joker sought to highlight the perennial battle between chaos and order, Bane's plan is much more controlled and purposeful, even simple in its execution. He instigates a battle between the haves and the have nots, playing on inherent systemic unfairness and the uprooting of established models. This is about revolution; a war between existential concepts rather than the fundamentals of the universe.

Bane might not be as iconic as the Joker, or even as nuanced as Heath Ledger's portrayal, but he is nonetheless a memorable villain who demands attention. And while at least you could understand what came out the the Joker's mouth, there's something equally disconcerting and pernicious about the garble emanating through his morphine-pumping Darth Vader costume. But then his sheer physicality does most of the talking for him. Certainly, he is the only villain in the trilogy who ever looks like he might break the Bat, making the caped crusader look fallible, weak, and with that the situation hopeless. In many ways his battle with Batman is just as enthralling as the Dark Knight's brush with the Joker. While a notch below the cerebral out-smarting and counter out-smarting battle of wits with the psychopathic clown, Bane's braun and simplistic eloquence in setting off an unstoppable chain reaction of events poses a different, yet equally fascinating challenge for Batman. Even if the idea of two burly men in pantomime costumes shouting at each other in ridiculous voices should strike one as hysterical.

The contrast between Wayne and Bane is stark. Bruce is the crippled beast that wanders his empty castle without cause or purpose, trapped in a body battered by years of crime fighting. Having lost the love of his life, there is a strong sense that Bruce's journey of channeling his rage into becoming justice incarnate has regressed to the directionless adolescent harbouring uncontrollable grief and rage we met at the beginning of Batman Begins. He believes in nothing anymore, a fact he's consistently reminded of by his conscience, Alfred (Caine). Bruce is concerned only for his own affliction, unlike his parents, who as board member of Wayne Enterprises Miranda Tate (Cotillard) puts it, "invested in the world" through their philanthropic pursuits. The years have left him soft, in the same privileged bracket of the 1% Bane seeks to usurp where his over reliance on technology and bat gadgets prove no match for the masked lunatic. In order to beat Bane, Bruce must first go through the same initiation of the man "born and raised in hell on Earth" (or a pit prison halfway around the world if you will). But this isn't merely for the purpose of a Rocky training montage, slumming it by training in primeval conditions in order to physically harden up; this is very much a spiritual journey which reinvigorates his belief and ethical obligations, ultimately bringing the trilogy full circle.

Bale pulls off the troubled Bruce Wayne masterfully, embodying the tragic tale of a man born with everything yet trapped within the darkest recesses of his own mind. But as much as there is a focus on Bruce's story, The Dark Knight Rises features many other wonderfully character driven plot strands. In particular Anne Hathaway is superb, and any fears surrounding the inclusion of 'Catwoman' (never referred to as such here) are quickly laid to rest. Selina Kyle is introduced in such a delectable manner that you wonder why there was any grumbling in the first place. She effortlessly oozes sex appeal without ever meaning to, her ambiguous motivations making her one of the most intriguing characters in the film. Likewise, there is an incredible amount of time spent on rookie cop John Blake (Gordon-Levit). Displaying similar levels of integrity and fortitude to Commissioner Gordon (Oldman), The Dark Knight Rises actually threatens to become more his story, making a compelling point that DC might do well to make a new spin-off trilogy based purely on him. Michael Caine's Alfred is also given some meaty material, delivered with incredible heart as he imparts the hopes and dreams he once had for his effective adopted son.

If there's any criticism to be had here then perhaps at two-hours forty-minutes The Dark Knight Rises does get nebulous in places.  There's so many plots and sub-plots going on that proceedings slow down about halfway through. Also, similarly to The Amazing Spider-Man, this might be one of the few superhero films which barely features a superhero. Certainly Batman's screen time is less than in Begins or the Dark Knight, but then this is a film which thrives more on the expositions of its characters rather than its action. This also shows, where apart from the American football scene we saw in the trailer its action sequences are perhaps not as spectacular as we've seen before.

None of this however stops this being one of the most satisfying climaxes to a movie trilogy ever put to film. Indeed, Nolan's Batman will be cemented for some time as the best superhero series ever. The Dark Knight Rises is a wrought, emotional epic which is complimented perfectly with Hans Zimmer's exhorting musical score. As bat-fans we have truly witnessed something very impressive over the last seven years. This has been a remarkable series combining spectacle with equally engaging character-driven exposition, delivered in such a delightfully understated manner with style and aplomb. It's just such a shame the legend has to end.

The Dark Knight Rises (Nokia Trailer)

*saliva*

Film Review: Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy

With the Cold War in full swing, a botched covert operation to find a double-agent placed within the highest echelons of British intelligence costs head-honcho 'Control' (Hurt) and right-hand man Smiley (Oldman) their jobs. When new information from a rogue operative (Hardy) reignites rumours of a traitor, Smiley is pulled from retirement to spy on the spies and smoke out the mole.

Upon setting up his task force, Smiley learns 'Control' had long harboured fears of a spy within the ranks, distrusting even those in the inner circle. 'Control's' suspicions are visualised through pictures of his suspects taped to chess pieces and given code names from a nursery rhyme. 'Tinker' is the career driven Percy Alleline (Jones); 'Tailor' the mordant Bill Haydon (Firth); 'Soldier' a breviloquent Roy Bland (Hinds); 'Poor Man' persnickety Hungarian immigrant Toby Esterhase (Dencik); and finally amongst 'Control's' suspects miserable sack of spuds George Smiley himself, designated 'Beggarman'.  Aptly nicknamed 'The Circus', they are the high-value pieces at the top of MI6, each operating in accordance of their assigned chess pieces in a grand game of strategy. Others such as Smiley's aide, Peter Guilliam (Cumberbatch), are soon roped into this game of cat and mouse as things become infinitely more complex and dangerous. No chess game would be complete of course without its sacrificial pawns. Mark Strong's Jim Prideaux and Tom Hardy's Ricki Tarr; men who do 'The Circus'' dirty work, complete the essential piece of the puzzle. And suddenly the game is afoot!

And some puzzle it is. Adapted from famous spy novelist John LeCarré's book of the same name, Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy ensnares its audience in a tense world of old boys clubs and mountains of dusty files. It is a merciless roller coaster of savage bureaucratic espionage and infighting, where trust is always a misnomer and nothing is ever as it seems. And for a spy film which omits the frantic rush to stop a ticking bomb or some other calamitous mayhem, there is always a very real sense of danger and foreboding. There's so much uncertainty and paranoia floating about that the subsequent climate this creates is palpably volatile. While very understated, it's also very real. You really just don't know what the next twist is, and that's frighteningly dangerous in its own right.

It's this atmosphere, buoyed by its murky seventies Cold War setting, which makes Tinker Tailor a thoroughly absorbing experience. Rather than feeling dated or stuck in bygone era, this is more a homage than an attempt to invigorate a period for the here and now. It's unashamedly grey and brown, set firmly in a place where time doesn't flow, but is frozen. The characters are also part of this forlorn tapestry where then fashionable brown and orange wallpaper reflects the ribald, exhausted looking priests of British intelligence. It's a rich, nuanced world created here by Swedish director Thomas Alfredson (Let The Right One), inviting an investment where you want to know who's doing what to whom and why. While the drab aesthetic is without doubt entrancing, it's of critical importance to heed another MI6 employee who uttered those infamous words "do pay attention double-O-seven". One must constantly concentrate throughout Tinker Tailor, a film so vast in its complexity of twists, turns, counter-twists and counter-turns that even Otto von Bismarck would be left scratching his head. Yes it's dense, difficult and depressing to follow at the best of times, but like in real spy-dom a fastidious attention to detail will yield rewards.

Where the mystery of the mole is engaging in itself, perhaps more enthralling are the nuances of the men involved. One might expect that the collective which constitute 'The Circus' would be the staunchest defenders of democracy and the Western way of life, patriotic chaps who represent the best of British. What's engrossing is how much further from this ideal these men could be. Instead we have alarmingly fallible men disillusioned and cynical of those in power who, as a consequence, are liable to becoming unprincipled traitors to those that may offer a better deal. It is a chord which would have resonated with its Cold War audience of the time, an idea that the West was a spent force and had no more to offer other than the gratification of greed - an amorality eschewed by its ascetic rivals in the East. It was a very real fear that such exotic influences could be allowed to fester at the core of society, an indolence to protect a system that offered little, yet where a failure to do so could let in something far worse. The film's ashen-grey setting of seventies London does much to enhance this feeling of a decadent West about to cave on itself. If you know the history of the period - the rise of trade unions, three-day weeks, power cuts, IMF bailouts - then you can begin to see why no one would want to invest in a nation, a system, which offered nothing. Britain wasn't alone in its problems. American reputation lay in tatters for its war in Vietnam while CIA coups brought people like Pinochet to power. At home it faced the most famous political scandal of the twentieth-century, Watergate. The seventies were very much a period that shook the central tennets of Western civilisation and while you might not think much of Tinker Tailor's archaism it is still quite possible to draw parallels to today. Once again confidence in the system has dramatically plummeted in the face of joblessness, corruption scandals and high bonuses for those who messed up in the first place. Despite being set in a world structured along fundamentally different lines, perhaps ironically this bears more relevance now than any time since.

The film's other underlying current, betrayal, is one which permeates throughout on multiple levels. From betrayal of queen and country to that of personal relationships and self, a vivid picture of the world these ringmasters live in soon emerges. Here sexuality is used to emphasise this, an issue which the book skirts over but one which Alfredson chose to add to great effect. For example, Smiley's wife Ann is shown to be a serial cheater, apportioning favours to close work colleague, Haydon. Ricki Tarr meanwhile forms a connection with a woman on a secret mission abroad, promising her a new life in the West only to fail in saving her from the torturous clutches of the KGB. Hard-as-nails field agent Jim Prideaux, best friends with Haydon since their time at an all boys school, is driven to extreme actions more becoming of a bond which supersedes friendship. But while sex does much to highlight this theme of betrayal what it shows more of is how this group of people, these intelligence deities who preside over the nation's safety and are the frontline against the threat of an international communist conspiracy are just as prone to error as anyone else. Perhaps even more so. They are mortals, as frail and susceptible to emotion as the next person, and this provides a strange yet fascinating twist for an otherwise emotionally cold film.

As one might gather, Tinker Tailor has managed to assemble a sterling ensemble of some of Britain's finest actors. Smiley wasn't the easiest role for Oldman to fill, given that LeCarré's book was made into a BBC miniseries where the character became inextricably linked with an impeccable portrayal by Alec Guinness. Indeed, so synonymous did Guinness become with the book's inscrutable protagonist that Tinker Tailor has drawn some skepticism. Oldman fortunately is superb, eerily motionless but in possession of a piercing mind as he pulls off stoicism in an amoral world of double-crossing and egotistical opportunists. He is a very British type of hero - tired, colourless, and defeated in demeanour, yet despite his nonchalance and drab appearance is a master of his trade - someone you underestimate at your peril. Cumberbatch's recent meteoric rise to fame is once again fully justified here as is another rising star, Tom Hardy, showing a versatility in a role which couldn't be further removed from his latest character, Bane, in the upcoming Dark Knight Rises. As we've come to expect from John Hurt his vitriolic 'Control' is excellent while the time travelling Colin Firth does what he does best, seamlessly blending into yet another period drama. Likewise Mark Strong, not a villain for once, yet again turns in a 'strong' performance.

In the past few years we've had the explosive antics of Bond and Bourne, but this, without any hint of things going boom or martial arts madness, could easily be considered more exciting then either of them. There's no Pussy Galore, Aston Martins fitted with ejector seats or exotic locales here - only piles of disheveled documents situated in drab London settings and dinky little caravans. It's the cerebral spy thriller, a 'whodunnit' that would test even the combined grey matter of Poirot and Marple. Admittedly it can be a little ponderous, and perhaps the biggest let down to this clever caper is its final reveal. While commendable in its lack of histrionics it is perhaps a bit too understated. However, considering this is a film inhabited by deeply flawed monomaniacs and quislings afflicted with paranoia and sociopathy, this won't stop you from being sucked into its smart and dreary world.

Film Review: Kung Fu Panda 2

The first Kung Fu Panda was a whimsical and effervescent affair, grossly underrated yet still managing to sing to the tune of some $600million. Of course, this prompted DreamWorks to produce a sequel. While Kung Fu Panda 2 is most certainly bigger than the first, it does not necessarily mean it is better. There's always a risk when you endeavour to expand a franchise. On the one hand you could be incredibly successful like with Pixar's Toy Story series. On the other, you could run it into the ground, a bit like another DreamWork's production, Shrek. Certainly, sometimes there is a case to be made that maybe some things should just be left well enough alone.

Po (Black) and the gang are back, this time facing a far bigger threat in the form of psychotic albino peacock, Shen (Oldman). Destined to fulfil an ancient prophecy whilst struggling to find his own inner peace, Po must first find himself before he can think about stopping Shen's ambitions to eradicate Kung Fu and take over all of China.

At its core the moral in Kung Fu Panda 2 is the same old; 'believe in yourself' with a dollop of 'what matters is who you are now, not where you came from'. This is essentially the root of Po's identity crisis, who has a goose for a father, and would certainly have appealed to Angela Jolie and her plethora of adopted kids. However if you've ever watched other DreamWorks productions such as Madagascar and Megamind you'll recognise that this is a story in exactly the same mould. In fact, Kung Fu Panda 2 is actually somewhat disconcerting for a children's film. It contains some remarkably morose material including themes of genocide and vengeance which might understandably be upsetting for kids. Likewise, having a psychologically disturbed panda as your film's hero is hardly the most inspiring comic material.

Po, like with Jack Black in general, is also looking tiresome. If you've seen the over-eager clumsiness once - which was the first film's strength - you probably won't want to see it again. While there is an attempt to add a depth to Po as he looks for inner peace, its execution is somewhat tepid, doing more to mimic the movie's already confusing screenplay. The overall effect of this is a strangely disjointed film with some questionable time lapses used to try and have it all make sense. Likewise, the Furious Five - Tigress (Jolie), Monkey (Chan), Viper (Liu), Crane (Cross) and Mantis (Rogen) - do more to crowd the picture rather than rouse proceedings, scarcely making the same indelible impression they did in the first film. What worked there - contrasting Po's idiot bravado against the humble aplomb of his team - seems kind of worn this time round. The best Kung Fu Panda 2 has to offer comes in the shape of two new characters. Michelle Yeoh's soothsaying sheep which provides the most laughs but, as with most children's films of this nature, the villain steals the show. Gary Oldman's peacock, Shen, is an ineffable villain with an evil rasp that will make your toes curl. He displays a similar appeal to another delightfully feathered foe, Rio's Nigel, voiced by Jermaine Clement. Like Rio, Kung Fu Panda 2 only ever seems to come alive when the big bad bird is around.

Ultimately the voice cast assembled is excellent but horribly underused. Lucy Liu and Jean Claude Van Damme for example couldn't have had more than five lines between them. The best thing about Kung Fu Panda 2 are its stunning visuals, a love letter to Chinese artistic styles in a world created out of lollipops and gumdrops. However, the film's capital, its charm and humour, are not nearly as present as in the first which makes for a superlatively bland experience. Still, at least we're finally given an answer as to why Po's dad is a goose. Expect DreamWorks to capitalise with a Kung Fu Panda 3.

Film Review: Red Riding Hood

The tale of a young girl cloaked in red off to visit grandma has been told and retold throughout the ages, but it is the Brothers Grimm version which is the most well renowned. And it is this version of events which Catherine Hardwicke's latest incarnation most closely sticks to. Whilst it doesn't deviate from the central events of the story, Red Riding Hood certainly adds its own twist to proceedings - and not necessarily for the better.

Valerie (Seyfried) lives in the picturesque medieval village of Daggerhorn, a small enclave in a remote forest which is stalked by a wolf. In love with woodcutter Peter (Fernandez), Valerie plans to run away with him against her parents wishes, who have promised her to the son of the town's wealthy blacksmith, Henry (Irons). When the wolf kills Valerie's sister, Father Solomon (Oldman) and his crack team of werewolf hunters arrive and put the town on lockdown until the beast is dead.

Hardwicke, director of the Twilight films, borrows much from the saga and its influence permeates throughout Red Riding Hood. The similarities of insipid, floppy-haired beanpoles with sharp facial curvatures in Peter and Henry to Edward and Jacob are stark, as is the love triangle between the two and a young teenage girl still unsure of her place in the world. While this is Hardwicke's own personal stamp on the classic fairytale, it scarcely works as Iron's Henry never really proves much competition for Seyfried's affections. Consequently this story arc, which Hardwicke has tried to make just as important as the central plot about a werewolf terrorising a small village, flatlines.

Indeed, there's a lot 'off' in Red Riding Hood where nothing quite sits in this quaint village, supposedly sitting somewhere in medieval Europe. It is populated with American accents, Solomon's super-squad is comprised of, shall we say, men of a 'less-than-European-looking' appearance, and there's this sort of modern industrial-techno soundtrack to further detract from its setting. It's difficult what to make of it all. On the one hand Red Riding Hood is cinematically stunning, using visually striking images and colours highlighting the safety of the village, juxtaposed against the forbidding darkness of the forest it's surrounded by. On the other, the aforementioned curiosities just throw the atmosphere out of sync, merely begging criticisms of this being modern day claptrap.

And yet, you'll keep watching. Oldman's arrival stirs up a literal witch-hunt in the village, hooking its audience on the old 'who-is-it?' caper. Its less-than-subtle allusions to whether you'd give up freedom for security is at least a damn site more interesting than Hardwicke's Twilight-lite parallel plot line. However, when everything begins to come to a head you'll find all its menacing build up descends into a tepid crescendo.

Hardwicke's Red Riding Hood is more Twilight than Grimm, suited perhaps more to tweens suffering Twilight withdrawal symptoms. Its gorgeous setting is only skin deep, taking itself way too seriously in its taxing concern over which of Daggerhorn's two best looking boys Seyfried should choose. Who's afraid of the big bad wolf? Probably not you.