Do you feel bad for cows when you go into McDonalds?

Prisoners

(2013)

(SPOILERS) Prisoners is a ridiculous, self-important, exploitative piece of schlock masquerading as serious drama. It looks great, boasts a lustrous cast and is directed by Denis Villeneuve with, at least at first, convincing portentousness and all the grim determination that hundreds of thousands of gallons of artificial rain can muster. But it’s a really dumb movie, one that prods at big issues without the brains to do anything with them, and comes up with the kind of eye-rolling twists that wouldn’t look out of place in your bargain-basement standard serial killer fare like The Bone Collector or Kiss the Girls.

Prisoners announces itself as aiming for something more lofty by stepping up to the plate and dealing with the ramifications of a sensitive subject like child abduction. Big Hollywood movies that tackle child abuse have invariably floundered in a swamp of revenge fantasy that serves to undermine any serious intentions (Sleepers, the overrated Mystic River). That Prisoners falls back on every standard thriller convention in the book quickly exposes the shallowness of the picture, but makes it’s failings that much worse; I don’t doubt that it wasn’t by the design of Villeneuve and writer Aaron Guzikowski, but it feels like they’ve cynically loaded the movie with every cheap audience-beating tactic they can muster.

The set up finds the daughters of two couples (Hugh Jackman and Maria Bello’s Keller and Grace Dover and Terrence Howard and Viola Davis’ Franklin and Nancy Birch) going missing at Thanksgiving. A manhunt begins, and Jake Gyllenhaal’s Detective Loki (unfortunately he doesn’t have any trickster moves up his sleeve, or his buttoned-up tieless shirt) is put in charge of the case. Prime suspect is Hollywood’s go-to guy for squirmy, chinless degeneracy Paul Dano (as camper van man with the mind of a 10-year old Alex Jones). With clues not exactly queuing up, and nothing on Alex, Jackman’s God-fearing survivalist takes matters into his own hands and imprisons the suspect in his own private Abu Ghraib.

Again, I’m sure the filmmakers’ intentions were honourable (as in torture is never the answer) but the narrative tells a different story; Jackman’s raging dad may not be right about Alex, but his methodical brutality sees him crack the case, leaving Loki to mop up the remains. The only way this would have been a successful condemnation of such methods would have been for Alex to have no connection the abduction at all (because, if not for Keller beating the living shit out of Alex and threatening him with a claw hammer and scalding him, his daughter would likely be dead). There’s nothing actually insightful or testing about this scenario, because it is built upon by such an overtly B-movie sensibility.

During the first half, there’s a vague possibility that Prisoners might amount to something more. The film is blessed with a very strong performance from Hugh Jackman, who is so convincing he enables you to forget momentarily how unsubtle Keller’s characterisation is. And Howard is also strong as a man too moral (read weak; he doesn’t have what it takes to uncover the truth) to have a stomach for Keller’s chosen methods (there's an interesting moment where Nancy backs Keller's terrible methods rather than her husband's conscience). There are the shapings, or at least the potential, for a scenario akin to Doubt, where the weight of circumstantial evidence and “he looks the part” becomes all that is needed to judge, jury and execute.

But Prisoners isn’t even a tenth as insightful as John Patrick Shanley’s film. Alex drops clues to show us that Keller is right. In a film that lasts a mystifyingly elongated 2½ hours, Guzikowski repeatedly artificially extends the plot by the most obvious and ruinous delaying tactics. Loki has to be one of the most inept detecives ever, and it’s mystifying that he hitherto had a flawless track record for solving cases. It takes him an eternity to get to the bottom of the abduction of Alex, despite breathing down the neck of the solution and stating as much (he does a tour of his holding house, and receives a phone call just at that crucial moment prior to discovery). He happens across a suspect by good fortune, loses him, grabs him again, then enables a situation where said suspect blows the back of his own head off. Fortunately, the weirdo has left a cryptic clue, and in a bout of paper tossing frustration Loki discovers exactly the inspiration he needs. Yes, this movie is just that cliché-strewn.

Did Roger Deakins cinematography just distract everyone from the train wreck of a plot (credit where it’s a due, there’s a stunningly shot car race-against-time across a hallucinogenically rain-lashed motorway)? If Villenuve had made The Frozen Ground instead, which I watched a few weeks ago and has far more compelling subject matter, his invested approach might have done something interesting with that true-life case and he could have left this unfortunate mess well alone. But Prisoners had everyone from Wahlberg (he has a producer credit, but then Wahlberg has a producer credit on everything) to Bale to DiCaprio circling it at one time or other. Is it just the case in Hollywood that, if you see an important subject is broached, it must be good? I guess so.

There are some unintentionally funny scenes in here too. Most of them involve Gyllenhaal trying to act his socks of, giving himself an eye tremor and the general air of someone distressed at having to make Zodiac all over again (the news is, he’s not; this is about as far from a masterpiece as one could imagine). There’s a hilarious scene where Jake opens a series of locked cases filled with snakes. Each time he opens one he has the same shocked as the last. And those snakes don’t half slither! Then there are the crew digging up shop mannequins. And Jake telling his Captain to go fuck himself (of course)! Best of all is the reveal of the true fiendish mastermind, in which Oscar Winner Melissa Leo pulls a gun and proceeds to explain just how she dang well did it. And she would have got away with it too, if wasn’t for that meddlesome Gyllenhaal.

I expect the decision not to show poor beardy Hugh (that’s his character right there, in that beard) being rescued is a comment on his culpability. But hey, unless they drag up his cold dead corpse (as opposed to the celebratory sound of him tooting on a whistle) he’s still the movie’s de facto hero. He wuz right, and he saw it through. He’s like Mad Mel in Ransom, but without the sense of malevolent fun.

Prisoners is not a good movie. It might have been a passably hokey B picture if it had been straight up honest about its gutter trawling. But Villeneuve has fashioned a mantle of importance and worthiness unsupported by the content; the results are both laughable and borderline offensive.

I’m smarter than a beaver.

Prey (2022) (SPOILERS) If nothing else, I have to respect Dan Trachtenberg’s cynical pragmatism. How do I not only get a project off the ground, but fast-tracked as well? I know, a woke Predator movie! Woke Disney won’t be able to resist! And so, it comes to pass. Luckily for Prey , it gets to bypass cinemas and so the same sorry fate of Lightyear . Less fortunately, it’s a patience-testing snook cocking at historicity (or at least, assumed historicity), in which a young, pint-sized Comanche girl who wishes to hunt and fish – and doubtless shoot to boot – with the big boys gets to take on a Predator and make mincemeat of him. Well, of course , she does. She’s a girl, innit?

I’m the famous comedian, Arnold Braunschweiger.

Last Action Hero (1993) (SPOILERS) Make no mistake, Last Action Hero is a mess. But even as a mess, it might be more interesting than any other movie Arnie made during that decade, perhaps even in his entire career. Hellzapoppin’ (after the 1941 picture, itself based on a Broadway revue) has virtually become an adjective to describe films that comment upon their own artifice, break the fourth wall, and generally disrespect the convention of suspending disbelief in the fictions we see parading across the screen. It was fairly audacious, some would say foolish, of Arnie to attempt something of that nature at this point in his career, which was at its peak, rather than playing it safe. That he stumbled profoundly, emphatically so since he went up against the behemoth that is Jurassic Park (slotted in after the fact to open first), should not blind one to the considerable merits of his ultimate, and final, really, attempt to experiment with the limits of his screen persona.

If you ride like lightning, you're going to crash like thunder.

The Place Beyond the Pines (2012) (SPOILERS) There’s something daringly perverse about the attempt to weave a serious-minded, generation-spanning saga from the hare-brained premise of The Place Beyond the Pines . When he learns he is a daddy, a fairground stunt biker turns bank robber in order to provide for his family. It’s the kind of “only-in-Hollywood” fantasy premise you might expect from a system that unleashed Harley Davidson and the Marlboro Man and Point Break on the world. But this is an indie-minded movie from the director of the acclaimed Blue Valentine ; it demands respect and earnest appraisal. Unfortunately it never recovers from the abject silliness of the set-up. The picture is littered with piecemeal characters and scenarios. There’s a hope that maybe the big themes will even out the rocky terrain but in the end it’s because of this overreaching ambition that the film ends up so undernourished. The inspiration for the movie

Everyone creates the thing they dread.

Avengers: Age of Ultron (2015) (SPOILERS) Avengers: Age of Ultron ’s problem isn’t one of lack. It benefits from a solid central plot. It features a host of standout scenes and set pieces. It hands (most of) its characters strong defining moments. It doesn’t even suffer now the “wow” factor of seeing the team together for the first time has subsided. Its problem is that it’s too encumbered. Maybe its asking to much of a director to effectively martial the many different elements required by an ensemble superhero movie such as this, yet Joss Whedon’s predecessor feels positively lean in comparison. Part of this is simply down to the demands of the vaster Marvel franchise machine. Seeds are laid for Captain America: Civil War , Infinity Wars I & II , Black Panther and Thor: Ragnarok . It feels like several spinning plates too many. Such activity occasionally became over-intrusive on previous occasions ( Iron Man II ), but there are points in Age of Ultron whe

Death to Bill and Ted!

Bill & Ted’s Bogus Journey (1991) (SPOILERS) The game of how few sequels are actually better than the original is so well worn, it was old when Scream 2 made a major meta thing out of it (and it wasn’t). Bill & Ted Go to Hell , as Bill & Ted’s Bogus Journey was originally called, is one such, not that Excellent Adventure is anything to be sneezed at, but this one’s more confident, even more playful, more assured and more smartly stupid. And in Peter Hewitt it has a director with a much more overt and fittingly cartoonish style than the amiably pedestrian Stephen Herrick. Evil Bill : First, we totally kill Bill and Ted. Evil Ted : Then we take over their lives. My recollection of the picture’s general consensus was that it surpassed the sleeper hit original, but Rotten Tomatoes’ review aggregator suggests a less universal response. And, while it didn’t rock any oceans at the box office, Bogus Journey and Point Break did quite nicely for Keanu Reev

I think it’s pretty clear whose side the Lord’s on, Barrington.

Monte Carlo or Bust aka Those Daring Young Men in Their Jaunty Jalopies (1969) (SPOILERS) Ken Annakin’s semi-sequel to Those Magnificent Men in Their Flying Machines tends to be rather maligned, usually compared negatively to its more famous predecessor. Which makes me rather wonder if those expressing said opinion have ever taken the time to scrutinise them side by side. Or watch them back to back (which would be more sensible). Because Monte Carlo or Bust is by far the superior movie. Indeed, for all its imperfections and foibles (not least a performance from Tony Curtis requiring a taste for comic ham), I adore it. It’s probably the best wacky race movie there is, simply because each set of competitors, shamelessly exemplifying a different national stereotype (albeit there are two pairs of Brits, and a damsel in distress), are vibrant and cartoonish in the best sense. Albeit, it has to be admitted that, as far as said stereotypes go, Annakin’s home side win

Just because you are a character doesn't mean that you have character.

Pulp Fiction (1994) (SPOILERS) From a UK perspective, Pulp Fiction ’s success seemed like a fait accompli; Reservoir Dogs had gone beyond the mere cult item it was Stateside and impacted mainstream culture itself (hard to believe now that it was once banned on home video); it was a case of Tarantino filling a gap in the market no one knew was there until he drew attention to it (and which quickly became over-saturated with pale imitators subsequently). Where his debut was a grower, Pulp Fiction hit the ground running, an instant critical and commercial success (it won the Palme d’Or four months before its release), only made cooler by being robbed of the Best Picture Oscar by Forrest Gump . And unlike some famously-cited should-have-beens, Tarantino’s masterpiece really did deserve it.

This entire edifice you see around you, built on jute.

Jeeves and Wooster 3.3: Cyril and the Broadway Musical (aka Introduction on Broadway) Well, that’s a relief. After a couple of middling episodes, the third season bounces right back, and that's despite Bertie continuing his transatlantic trip. Clive Exton once again plunders Carry On, Jeeves but this time blends it with a tale from The Inimitable Jeeves for the brightest spots, as Cyril Basington-Basington (a sublimely drippy Nicholas Hewetson) pursues his stage career against Aunt Agatha's wishes.

Poetry in translation is like taking a shower with a raincoat on.

Paterson (2016) (SPOILERS) Spoiling a movie where nothing much happens is difficult, but I tend to put the tag on in a cautionary sense much of the time. Paterson is Jim Jarmusch at his most inert and ambient but also his most rewardingly meditative. Paterson (Adam Driver), a bus driver and modest poet living in Paterson, New Jersey, is a stoic in a fundamental sense, and if he has a character arc of any description, which he doesn’t really, it’s the realisation that is what he is. Jarmusch’s picture is absent major conflict or drama; the most significant episodes feature Paterson’s bus breaking down, the English bull terrier Marvin – whom Paterson doesn’t care for but girlfriend Laura (Golshifteh Farahani) dotes on – destroying his book of poetry, and an altercation at the local bar involving a gun that turns out to be a water pistol. And Paterson takes it all in his stride, genial to the last, even the ruination of his most earnest, devoted work (the only disappoint

Your Mickey Mouse is one big stupid dope!

Enemy Mine (1985) (SPOILERS) The essential dynamic of Enemy Mine – sworn enemies overcome their differences to become firm friends – was a well-ploughed one when it was made, such that it led to TV Tropes assuming, since edited, that it took its title from an existing phrase (Barry Longyear, author of the 1979 novella, made it up, inspired by the 1961 David Niven film The Best of Enemies ). The Film Yearbook Volume 5 opined that that Wolfgang Petersen’s picture “ lacks the gritty sauciness of Hell in the Pacific”; John Boorman’s WWII film stranded Lee Marvin and Toshiro Mifune on a desert island and had them first duking it out before becoming reluctant bedfellows. Perhaps germanely, both movies were box office flops.

Now In Full Color, with a Happier Ending

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