Batman & Robin (1997)

STRENGTH. COURAGE. HONOUR. AND LOYALTY.

I know, I know, I’m horrendously late with this one. Believe me, I never thought it would happen on Batman Week. Still, you don’t want to hear me go on about why I’m late… you, for whatever reason, want to read my thoughts on the fourth film of the original run of Batman films that started in 1989 with Tim Burton’s Batman and ended in 1997 with Joel Schumacher’s Batman & Robin, which has gone on to become one of the most reviled films ever made. Well, you’ve all waited long enough; let’s get to it.

Batman (George Clooney) and his partner Robin (Chris O’Donnell) work together to stop the new bad guy of Gotham: Mr. Freeze (Arnold Schwarzenegger), a sub-zero scientist stealing the city’s diamonds. Tensions appear between the duo, made worse when another villain comes into town, Poison Ivy (Uma Thurman). When the two evildoers join forces, it takes the crime-fighting pair to breaking point.

It’s a bit difficult to find things to say about a film like Batman & Robin. Not because there’s nothing to say about it, be it good or bad, but really just because so many people have already gone to town on it. You go to the IMDb page for this film and you will see a slew of one- and two-star reviews and comments that so thoroughly tear it a new one that it seems unnecessary to go over the same ground. Those that defend it often do so in a manner that’s half apologetic. Even Joel Schumacher himself went on record apologising for the film, and George Clooney said that this was the film that officially killed the Batman franchise. This would seem like a pretty solid statement considering that any and all plans for further Batman films and projects were instantly halted and cancelled due to the critical battering this film took. You have to admit, rarely has a film had such a negative impact as this one. Films cancelled, careers stunted, the Bat-signal decommissioned for almost a full decade… that’s a lot of hate. But is it all justified? Is this truly worthy of the vicious tirades and outbursts it receives?

Well, yes, kind of. However, let’s have a proper look at it and measure the damage of what’s said to be one of the worst films to make almost twice its budget back in box office returns.

Primary writer of Batman Forever, Akiva Goldsman, returned to scripting duties on this film, conceiving of story (alongside Schumacher), character arc and dialogue. Goldsman is such an interesting case study as a figure in Hollywood, but particularly a writer. Most of Goldman’s work as a writer since his beginnings back with 1994's The Client have been as someone who works primarily on adaptations of other works, such as A Time to Kill, Practical Magic, I, Robot, I Am Legend, The Da Vinci Code and Angels & Demons, as well one foray into adapting a classic TV series, Lost in Space. You may look on these and think to yourself that this guy does nothing but write scripts for awful, but financially successful films. In that case, you’d be wrong, since he actually won an Oscar for Best Adapted Screenplay for his work on A Beautiful Mind, which won quite a few other awards, like Best Film and Best Director. So clearly the man has something in him that can produce good work. However, looking at his track history, as writer or producer, specifically on comic book films (Batman Forever, Batman & Robin, Constantine, Jonah Hex), it’s almost all downhill. I mention these things purely to make the point that, for my view, Akiva Goldsman simply doesn’t really get comic book films, though I’m sure he has tried to educate himself in the ways of medium. It could be that he continues to hold on to some worn out notions of stylisation, character, or simply the commonly held belief that comics are for kids and idiots, so any hackneyed storyline is acceptable. This, coupled with his clear orders from producers, director and studio big-wigs to make things more kid-friendly and cartoony, means that Goldsman has produced a script that is an unholy concoction of flat characters, truly grating dialogue, and a story so simple and dull that you would struggle to care less about it.

The tentative steps of trust, partnership and what it means to be part of a team that were addressed in Batman Forever between the two crime-fighters returns again in Batman & Robin, but just feels so much more forced. It’s been over a year since Dick Grayson partnered up with Bruce Wayne to kick Gotham’s criminals in the collective nuts, but they still seem to have a problem with trust, partnership and what it means to be part of a team. Robin wants his share of the glory, but Batman thinks he isn’t good enough yet. Honestly, this whole storyline just makes Robin come off like a petulant child, which sort of worked for the frustrated emotional arc in the last film, but here is very off-putting. And the introduction of Batgirl is just clichéd and lazy. Here, she is Alfred’s niece (rather than Commissioner Gordon’s daughter) who shows up, says something about computers, rides a bike and becomes the latest addition to the team… that’s it. She does have other stuff about wanting to take her dear uncle away from his life as a servant, which is supposed to open things up to be a consideration of family, but it’s completely hollow. Effectively her entire drive becomes ‘I’m taking my uncle away from this life of servitude’ ‘But he’s family’ ‘Well, then so am I’. She doesn’t really earn a spot on the team so much as force her way in through some sort of vague sense of nepotism.

Poison Ivy’s storyline is one born of environmental mania, with Dr. Pamela Isley trying splice the genes of plants and venomous animals to create plants that can fight back against their human predators. However, she is killed by the other mad scientist in her South American laboratory, who is busy creating a chemically-enhanced super soldier called Bane, who is to be auctioned off to the standard line-up of crazies bent on world domination. Three things: 1) The mad scientist creating a super solider bit is so trite that it’s painful; 2) It utterly destroys the character of Bane, turning the super strong and super smart monster of the comics into a walking blunt instrument; and 3) The bit about Dr. Isley being murdered by a co-worker only to be resurrected by the thing she loved in life, thus turning her into a villain defined that thing, is a near carbon copy of Catwoman’s origin in Batman Returns. When Ivy comes to Gotham, she starts using pheromone dust to drive men wild and turn Batman and Robin against each other, but it all seems so unnecessary. Her ultimate goal is make plants rise up against humanity, which she plans to do with a special flower/snake hybrid she created, but then why bother with anything else? She’s already made the plant, and has shown that she can grow things almost instantly and with a minimum of fuss, so getting near Bruce Wayne, messing with the crime-fighting duo, and teaming up with Mr. Freeze is completely pointless. She could have gone to a local park, planted whatever she wanted and had a floral army almost immediately. By showing up and aligning herself with the bad guy, she put herself in the firing line. She’s just thrown in to further aggravate the Batman/Robin conflict. She is almost nothing but plot hole.

The one interesting arc for the film comes from Mr. Freeze, who was a former Olympian turned Nobel prize-winning biochemist. When his wife contracts a deadly disease, he puts all of his effort into finding a cure, but an accident turns him into someone who can only live in sub zero temperatures. He then becomes a villain, but only to fund his own research to cure his wife. This is actually really good stuff, because it’s got heart and tragedy, as well as the moral questions of doing bad for a good cause. However, much like the Poison Ivy origin, it’s also got nothing to do with Akiva Goldsman. This arc was created for a 1992 episode of Batman: The Animated Series called Heart of Ice, which won an Emmy for writing and is remembered as one of the best, if not the best, episodes of the series. It was so good that the comics took this origin on board and has served as the basis for the character ever since. What Goldsman did with this story was utterly destroy it. Partly because it’s supposed to be cartoony and partly because Schwarzenegger was cast, Freeze is a virtual non-stop pun machine (a “machine pun”, if you will) and completely ridiculous. He hangs out in an abandoned ice cream factory, wears huge bunny slippers and forces his freezing minions to sing cartoon songs for him. The small moments of pathos are ruined by crass jokes as soon as they begin to go in the vague direction of genuine emotion. For example, when a lackey interrupts Freeze watching old home movies of his wife, he freezes him solid and says “I hate it when people talk during the movie.”... Christ. Not only does Goldsman insist on utilising every story cliché, every tired plot device, every achingly bad pun going, but he also crushes any scene that tries to break away from this.

And the dialogue… dear sweet zombie Jesus, the dialogue is abysmal. Almost no one is immune from the clunky, awkward, unfunny words being forced upon them. Only Alfred manages to get away from this, but only because he’s British and dying.

You know what? I think I’ve harped on about Goldsman long enough.

Joel Schumacher takes the overblown approach he used in Batman Forever and manages to outdo himself in Batman & Robin. Supposedly before every shot, he called out to his cast “Remember, this is a cartoon!” This is an easy indication as to how he saw these films. As I said in the Batman Forever review, these were his orders from the studio. He was told to make a film like this, but even this was too much. Aside from helping Goldsman come up with the storyline for the film, he has turned the world of Gotham into a campy, colour-blitzed playground for people to jump around. Every character seems to come with their own signature colour, so the instant they show up, the whole lighting scheme in the room changes. In fact, the visuals match the script perfectly, holding the same subtlety and delicacy as using twenty sticks of dynamite of wash a dinner plate. He also compounds his bizarre addition of nipples to the costume designs by adding abs and asses. His casting choices are just as foolish.

Put simply, George Clooney is not a good Batman or Bruce Wayne, simply because he never stops being George Clooney. Bruce Wayne’s charm is actually just Clooney. Batman’s intimidation factor is non-existent because he’s just Clooney. It’s a wholly unconvincing show from someone I’ve seen do some great work before and since. Chris O’Donnell is just a whiny little annoyance. Alicia Silverstone follows Clooney’s turn and shows up onset as herself in a costume. The worst stuff comes from the villainous sector. Arnold Schwarzenegger is as bad as he always is, so there’s little surprise there. The thing that makes it more painful is that his was the most interesting character with the most potential. I’m not sure I really blame Arnold for this, though. He does show signs that he’s trying, but this is just something that's beyond his capabilities as an actor. Uma Thurman doesn’t really get the same consideration. Though not exactly one of the most revered actresses, she can pull off a decent turn when she wants to. The character of Poison Ivy is weak, and the direction was bad, but Thurman is hardly blameless for the twitchy and over-the-top show she puts on.

There are many people that will tell you Batman Forever is the film that truly ended the original Batman franchise, and that Batman & Robin was merely the final nail. Frankly, this is kind of true. Whilst I will hold that Batman & Robin is the worse film of the two, it was Batman Forever that helped pave the way for this one. If Batman Forever had been a flop, Warner Bros. may have changed their tactics again and tried to recapture the darker tone of the first two films, which they at least knew would get them a consistent audience, even if it wasn't as big as they wanted.

I’ll say again that Schumacher apologised for this film, saying that all he wanted to do was entertain. I understand this, as I think we all can. Nor do I really blame him entirely for Batman & Robin, or the demise of the original franchise, mainly because so many other people are equally responsible. Akiva Goldsman, Warner Bros., Tim Burton, the cast, the production crew, everyone who had their hand in making these films that pandered and patronised the audience at every turn. But most of all, the cinema-going public is responsible for this film, and I include myself in this. Only a few complained about the first two films being too dark, but we all had a part in allowing the change to happen. When Batman Forever dropped, we should have called it quits then and there. But we didn’t, the film became a massive success and made the filmmakers think that this is what we wanted as an audience. The most powerful people in the film industry are, and have always been, the audience. We let these things happen, by letting the crass commercialism and juvenile story-telling dictate where the series went.

We should all very ashamed of ourselves.

Austin Powers: International Man of Mystery (1997)

IF HE WERE ANY COOLER, HE'D STILL BE FROZEN, BABY!

Mike Myers has always been something of an Anglophile. Both of his parents were British, born in Liverpool, who then moved to Canada, where Mike and his brothers were born. The British influence was always something Mike felt growing up, with a regular exposure to Monty Python and British spy thrillers from the 60s and 70s. In fact, although still a proud Canadian, when asked in interviews, he has been know to say that he considers himself British. Four years after his sequel to Wayne’s World, Mike was given a chance to fully explore his love of the British popular culture by writing and starring in a parody of the classic spy thrillers that he grew up watching with his family. Thus, the eternal battle between Austin Powers and Dr. Evil was released into the world.

In 1967, British hipster secret agent Austin Powers (Mike Myers) hunts his nemesis Dr. Evil (Mike Myers) down, only for villain to launch himself into space in a cryogenics tube. Powers is in turn frozen should Dr. Evil return. 30 years later, Austin is thawed and put back into action when Dr. Evil resurfaces in Nevada and steals a nuclear weapon to hold the world hostage. Along with his new sidekick Miss Vanessa Kensington (Elizabeth Hurley), his ex-partner’s daughter, they head out to save the world.

In setting up the world of Austin Powers, Myers has drawn on several very rich sources for inspiration. Primarily a parody of the James Bond films of the 60s and 70s, there are glimpses of other points of influence. Austin’s sex-obsessed nature and love of a double entendre shows nods towards the Carry On films; his distinctive look comes from a melding of Michael Caine and the character of Jason King; the frequent jumps to brief musical interludes is drawn from A Hard Day’s Night and The Monkees television show; and there’s even a sequence in the credits that apes Blow-Up. Effectively, Myers has cast a wide net across all of the most outrageous aspects of London’s Swinging 60s image and dragged them all in for his own brand of comedy and wit.

The characters are absolutely superb, too. Austin Powers is a potent distillation of every gawdy, ridiculous and overblown excess of Swinging 60s era London. He is every inch a man of his time, right down the crushed velvet suit and love of Burt Bacharach. And he possesses all the capability of an international man of mystery. Hell, his middle name is actually Danger. What’s really great is that, for all of his obsession with sex and puns, Myers hasn’t forgotten the flipside to his hero. That Powers is so a man of his time, but now exists completely outside of it, there’s something pointing in the direction of pathos in him. It doesn’t last long, but it’s nice to see that Myers has treated Powers as more than just a perpetual joke.

And Dr. Evil is a creation of comedy gold. An absurd twist on major Bond villain Blofeld, Dr. Evil’s position of menace is regularly undercut by the most basic, and therefore hilarious, foibles. He can’t even sit in his chair without rolling away from the table, forcing him to awkwardly pull himself back to his position at the head of his table of minions. And that he’s so completely set in his ways that when his son points out his highly inefficient and illogical manner of working, he responds with exasperation, telling him “you just don’t get it, do you?” And while we’re on the subject, every scene with his son, Scott Evil, is superb. Dr. Evil wants his boy to take over the family business, but Scott, dealing with some major abandonment issues, just wants to be left alone. The scene where the two attend a group therapy session to try and build a relationship is brilliant for its simplicity and its absurdity, as well as the Carrie Fisher cameo. Mike Myers plays both Austin and Dr. Evil to an absolute tee, with nary a hint of losing character or cracking up.

The rest of film is littered with great characters, played with a great sense of the comedy pitch on show. A spot on Michael York embodies the brilliantly named Basil Exposition. Dr. Evil’s minions are equally well handled, like Mindy Sterling’s severe Frau Farbissina, or Robert Wagner’s utterly deadpan Number Two, or Seth Green as the angsty Scott. Elizabeth Hurley proves herself a good sport as Miss Kensington, although she is the weakest performance on show… but then she looks great in a leather catsuit, so we can’t judge too harshly. Even the lesser characters provide some genuine laughs, like the Irish assassin who wants to know why everyone always laughs when he says the police are “always after me lucky charms”; or Dr. Evil’s personal bodyguard, the shoe-throwing henchman Random Task. When I first saw this film, that name was strangely one of things that I laughed at most.

This is a genuinely clever movie, with evidence of a great sharpness to the whole. For example, Dr. Evil’s plans for world domination are initially deflated by changing world events, all of which he is completely unaware. As such, he simply resorts to the old stock plan of stealing nuclear weapons and holding the world hostage. It's small, but it is very effective. He can’t even get his ransom demands right, asking for $1 million or he'll destroy the world, for which he receives unanimous hysterical laughter from the UN delegates he’s threatening. There are also the really great scenes that offer the alternate perspectives on the genre, with glimpses into the family lives of some of Dr. Evil’s henchmen, the latter of which holds another of film’s great cameos, this time from Rob Lowe. It’s scenes like this that show an active engagement with the material and the attempt to present it in a new way. Ultimately, that’s what makes this film so successful as a parody. Parody films today think that it’s enough to simply point out the generic flaws of its target with cynical derision, because being a sarcastic hipster ass is funny, right? Austin Powers has enough respect for the source of its inspiration to absorb itself in that world, looking for comedy in areas that no one really thought of before and presenting it in a way that’s both sincere and hilarious.

Austin Powers: International Man of Mystery still has most, if not all of its jokes and quips firmly set in place. It’s a great mix of over-the-top buffoonery and genuinely clever send-ups of the spy genre staples, and it’s all done with a clear affection for its points of inspiration. It also holds two superb turns from Myers as Powers and Dr. Evil, and Elizabeth Hurley in a leather catsuit. Really, this is one of the great comedies of the 90s, and there is still so much to love about it.

As Good as It Gets (1997)

BRACE YOURSELF FOR MELVIN!

As far as prolific filmmakers go, James L. Brooks isn’t really one of them. Certainly, his televisual output is far more regular, and he’s certainly no Terrence Malick, who very much likes to take his time between films. Nevertheless, Brooks has proved himself rather sporadic, but also with some real success. His first film, 1983’s Terms of Endearment, won him three Oscars, and 1987’s Broadcast News earned several awards and nominations. His 1994 follow-up was less successful, though not without its charms. However, he made a much bigger splash when, in 1997, he reunited with friend Jack Nicholson for a typically acerbic romantic comedy that put him back on much firmer ground in the film world.

Melvin Udall (Jack Nicholson) is a cranky, bigoted, obsessive-compulsive writer living in New York. When his gay artist neighbour Simon (Greg Kinnear) is beaten and hospitalised, Melvin is forced to look after his dog. His brief time with the dog prompts some change in Melvin, leading him to try and help the son of Carol (Helen Hunt), the only waitress who will tolerate him in the only restaurant he’ll go to. Initially, Melvin just wants her there to serve him breakfast, but it becomes obvious there’s more to it.

The script for As Good as It Gets was written by Mark Andrus, making it only his second script to be produced. His first film was a sort of time-travel comedy called Late for Dinner, which did decent enough business. His next project was entitled Old Friends, which was about the most despicable man in New York and his gay neighbour. Despite interest from some very talented people (Kevin Kline, Ralph Fiennes and Holly Hunter, no less), the project remained unproduced until James L. Brooks got a hold of it. Given Brooks’ own predilections in writing, and some apparent problems in the initial draft, he gave it a rewrite, though kept the same tone and overall feel. As it is the characters themselves are wonderfully drawn and defined. One of the most defining aspects of Brooks’ work as a writer and director is the nicely observed details in his characters. In As Good as It Gets, Simon explains his artistic process to his latest model:

Simon: “All right, what I do is…I watch people. Do you ever watch someone

who doesn’t know that your watching them? An old lady on a street corner, or

some kids getting on a bus to school? Well, they stand there and you look, and

all of a sudden this… flash comes over them, and you know it has nothing to

do with anything external, because that hasn’t changed. They just suddenly

become realer and more alive. If you look at someone long enough, you can

discover their humanity.”

It’s not just Simon that works this way; as a writer, so does Melvin, as he admits later to Carol. The only difference is that Melvin takes these observations from afar. Nevertheless, they both do it, and this is most certainly how Brooks works, too. Only Carol is free from this affliction, mainly because she doesn’t have the time. Between her work and her sick child, her few attempts to look beyond her very limited space rarely work out well for her, and even then she feels a little guilty for taking focus away from her work or her son.

Indeed, this comes to be something that connects these three characters, that they have all, at some stage in the film, given up on some aspect of their lives for one reason or another. Melvin long since gave up on having any kind of real relationships with other people because they annoy him too much, and he’s too caustic and crazy to maintain them, so he’d rather just avoid the whole issue. Carol gave up on herself having a life where someone else finds her desirable or attractive in any way other than someone to bring them food, which makes her that little bit more of an overbearing mother. Simon gives up on himself completely after he’s attacked in his own home, leaving him too physically and psychologically damaged to work, as well as being hit with huge debts from his medical bills. It’s through these connections, and despite their rather obvious disdain that flows between them, that brings them together. They all begin to feel something beyond themselves for the first time in a long time.

There’s a rather pleasing air of the old fashioned about As Good as It Gets, too. If you just drew back somewhat on the language and some of the more suggestive points, there is a slight flavour of the classical Hollywood in there. This is somewhat interesting considering the decidedly modern nature of many aspects of the film. Each of the characters would have had a tough time shining back then as they do here. Melvin, though of a classic curmudgeonly type, is an utterly vile person here. He’s racist, misogynistic, abrupt, nasty. He insults people not because he wants to be funny, but because he wants to injure people. Hell, the film opens with him putting a dog down a garbage chute. If it were anyone other than the legendarily charming Jack Nicholson in the role, you’d wonder why anyone would talk to him, let alone want to interact on a semi-regular basis. Simon, the openly gay artist neighbour, would not exactly be so openly gay if it were back in the 40s or 50s. Even if he were, he’d be a much swishier stereotype than Kinnear allows him to be. Carol would fare better, but her woes with the medical insurance companies feel like a more modern complaint. As it happens, I was listening to an episode of This American Life a few days ago in which they discussed the US healthcare system and, in that particular episode, they mentioned how popular opinion on insurances companies and HMOs had been greatly affected by this film, with many audience members cheering and applauding when Carol spits, “fucking HMO bastard pieces of shit!” Strong words, and they clearly struck a chord with the viewing public. Perhaps the most distinctly old-fashioned thing about As Good as It Gets is its desire to be a “feel good” picture. The characters turn corners within themselves to shoot for a more positive ending, albeit somewhat unrealistically. Yes, it is indeed something of a stretch that some things turn out in certain ways, so you’ll need to suspend disbelief a little harder here and there, but the film does mean well.

The performances throughout the film really are some great work. Helen Hunt nicely captures all the different emotional pulls in Carol. The worry for her son, her frustrated annoyance and shocked affection for Melvin, her anger with the medical companies, her sympathy and friendship with Simon. There’s really little to dislike in her performance. Greg Kinnear also gives some wonderfully affecting work as Simon, who is clearly gay, but never in such a way that feels parodic or mocking. That his growing despair is down without overdramatic wails and cries just makes it more moving. And, of course, there’s no touching Jack Nicholson in this film. It’s a role he clearly and so absolutely relishes that you can see the glint in his eye throughout. The fact that you really don’t hate him like you should, even when you know he’s crossed a line, is evidence of the man’s charm and skill. There’s also some great support from Cuba Gooding Jr. as Simon’s art dealer and Shirley Knight as Carol’s mother. Plus, as a fun game, you can try counting the minor roles and faces in the background that would go onto greater success in television roles… not counting Yeardley Smith, I saw four.

As Good as It Gets is somewhat flawed, with interesting points of character being occasionally overlooked in favour of heading in a more agreeable, if slightly artificial denouement. However, it is a warm film, made even more affecting by the fact that it wrestles such a genuine glow from some moments of such despair in its characters’ lives. The acting is some fine work, with the three leads shining superbly. Naturally, it’s Nicholson that steals things, delivering a character of such gleeful acidity with the skill of someone who seems incapable of not being charming. You don’t have to ignore its flaws, but just try to take in the sincerity and remember the film just wants to make you feel better, even if only for a little while.

Amistad (1997)

FREEDOM IS NOT GIVEN. IT IS OUR RIGHT AT BIRTH. BUT THERE ARE SOME MOMENTS WHEN IT MUST BE TAKEN.

It’s a little unsettling to consider that back in the heyday of slavery, one of the issues of practicality was the nature of a slave’s stance with the law. Some places regarded slavery as illegal and all those in its chains were people who were taken against their will. Others saw its slave populace as items, literally with no more significance or legal right than a chair or a lamp. Still others would say that it depends on where they came from. What happens, then, if a boatload of slaves were to rise up and kill their captors? Would you accuse a cow of murder if it killed its owner? Would the issue be as to who owns these now ownerless slaves? Or is it about victims fighting back for the freedom that was taken from them? In 1839, just such a case was brought before the US courts as the “cargo” of a Spanish slave-ship broke free from their chains and killed those that chained them.

Based on the true story of the mutiny aboard the slave ship, Amistad, and the subsequent courtroom drama as the American lawyers fought for the slave’s freedom and return home. The case would be a watershed moment for America-Spain relations, and reveal the political motivations behind the North-South conflict that would lead to the American Civil War.

David Franzoni’s script is a work of marvellous texture and depth. It draws on all of the emotive aspects of the story very well, but couples them with a great courtroom drama, and some wonderful characters. It avoids the pitfall of having the slaves, so often regarded as nothing but property, register as nothing more than a solid, indiscernible block. It has at least one real personality in there to identify with, perhaps even two or three. It also has a great dexterity with language. Communication is a great concern for those involved. The imprisoned slaves of the Amistad (Spanish for ‘friendship’) don’t speak the language of their captors, nor their attorneys. English, Mende and Spanish are all language barriers that these characters, and thus the script, must overcome in order to communicate effectively. Until a translator is found, it falls to body language, gesture and images to carry the weight of the initial tentative conversations. Motivations, strengths and weaknesses are considered well, which does enhance the drama to a fine degree. That, in the film, John Quincy Adams still struggles to live up to the example set by his father, former President John Adams, is used very well. That a relatively minor character like Judge Coglin gets some depth, his Catholic faith being used against him, is also refreshing. Indeed, it is obvious that care has been taken to give some balance to many of these characters.

Spielberg, as he would do, makes a great use of the story and his cast. He has always shown himself to be someone to take tackle historical issues with a sense of responsibility, showing a desire to respectfully explore the past and relate them to the present. Here, he utilises the same mix of frankness and sensitivity that served him so well on Schindler’s List. He doesn’t shy away from the horrors of the events (a story recounted by Cinque on a previous slave-ship, The Tecora, is indeed horrifying), but neither does it linger on them. Spielberg is wise enough to know that he need not exploit the pain of these characters, that he need only show you a little of such things for you to be affected, and then moves along. Indeed, he also shows a maturity in his decision to forgo his usually sweeping, fast-paced openings for something slower, but altogether more appropriate. His visual sensibility remains strong, catching such things as a recurring image of Cinque trying to follow the sun, struggling towards the light.

The cast assembled for this film is astounding. Anthony Hopkins, Morgan Freeman, Matthew McConaughey, Stellan Skarsgård, Anna Paquin, Djimon Hounsou, Nigel Hawthorne, Jeremy Northam, Pete Postlethwaite, Chiwetel Ejiofor, and many more besides that you’d recognise the instant you saw them. This superb cast, along with the sprawling nature of the story and characters, is really set to ensure that no one person is given The Lead. Everyone supports everyone, so it’s really anyone’s game to stand out. Indeed, two stand out remarkably. Djimon Hounsou is excellent as Cinque. Due to the language barrier that rests against us as much as it does the other characters, much of what we get from Cinque comes just from his presence and his expression. Thankfully, Hounsou, a former model, has a firm screen presence, proud, intense and strong. He carries every bit of the emotional weight of himself and the other men and women from the Amistad. The other performance of great note is Anthony Hopkins as John Quincy Adams. His Adams has every appearance of an awkward old man, scattered and tired, more concerned with his flowers than matters of State. However, he is more than capable of rising to any challenge set before him, carried off with a dignity and erudition that is really rather inspiring. It’s Hopkins who is given the most singularly wordy scene, a full eleven-minute long monologue on the subject of freedom and all the things it guarantees. Hopkins delivers it, not with over-dramatic scenery chewing, but with the true greatness that we know he’s is capable of. Others carry themselves admirably, with another mention for Pete Postlethwaite, who makes great impression with the relatively small role he inhabits.

The film is a fine one, though it should be understood that it does owe as much to fabrication as to historical document. The deviations from fact are somewhat regular, and can have something of an effect how some characters are portrayed. It works well within the context of the film, creating a tangible sense of tension and drama, but the fact is that the real people being represented don't always get their due. The character of Theodore Joadson, played by Morgan Freeman, is a fictitious creation, essentially brought in to present a former slave, now well-to-do free man fighting for the abolition of slavery, and his reaction to walking through the Amistad, haunted by the chains and scratches and blood smears that cover the lower decks. The scene has some poignancy, but is also somewhat superfluous. I get the feeling that the part was included more at the behest of Spielberg, perhaps simply wanting to work with Morgan Freeman, but more likely to compensate for a backlash against his The Color Purple, which was criticised for its negative portrayal of black men. As such, space has been created for the character at the expense of others, such as Professor Gibbs, who comes across as rather inept instead of the competent linguist that he really was.

Also, the attempts to draw the events into a context more identifiable to its contemporary audience, particularly American audiences, does create a more compelling sense of motivation for characters, but this is also at odds with the facts. President Martin Van Buren, played by Nigel Hawthorne, comes off as rather weak-willed, a typical politician more concerned with re-election than fighting for the cause of freedom. That he encroaches on legal proceedings for fear of a war (the Civil War) that would not come to pass for another two decades presents something of difficulty for a film purporting to represent history.

However, this is not a problem unique to Amistad, but something that all historical films must contend with: historical fact vs. dramatic storytelling. Many would argue that the allowance for alteration of fact lies in proportion to good storytelling – it’s okay to change some facts, so long as they make for a much more compelling story. Plus, if the spirit of the piece remains essentially respectful to the heart of the matter, then we can’t judge it too harshly. Alternately, many would say that any kind of alteration of fact is dishonest and that if the true story really were so compelling, then alteration would not be required. Otherwise, you may as well just make up a completely new tale and say it was "inspired by...". I’m certainly not going to try and settle this argument, I can only speak to what impact this film may have, or at least had on me.

I believe that Amistad is a very good film, an important film, and one that should be seen. Spielberg was pretty much preaching to the choir if he sought to convince me that slavery was bad. I’m already with him on that. If there is one overall concern with this film, and many others of Spielberg’s oeuvre, it’s to hold up examples of good people that others can learn from. No iconoclast, Spielberg knows the value of a hero, particularly from the past, and seeks to bring this idealism to the world. What Amistad really does is try to shine a light on instances in the past where a few have fought for a just cause in the face of overwhelming odds. It’s not really important as to whether or not John Quincy Adams actually had Cinque over to his house for tea. It’s just important to know that John Quincy Adams spoke with dignity and passion for Cinque’s freedom.

Amistad is very affecting film, well-written, directed and acted throughout, with particular credit going to Anthony Hopkins and Djimon Hounsou. There may be a consideration in the fact that it does take more than a few historical liberties, which does have an effect on characterisation somewhat, but it really takes little away from the dramatic nature of the film. It remains a poignant, emotive, occasionally difficult watch, but still an important one.

Alien: Resurrection (1997)

IT'S BEEN MORE THAN 200 YEARS... THE BEGINNING HAS JUST STARTED

Well, finally, after 18 years and some serious highs and lows, the Alien series reaches its end… well, before the whole Alien Vs. Predator thing. Each of the films had their own personality of sorts and gave some new(ish) directors a shot at the big time. The first was Ridley Scott’s work of tense genius - Alien. The second was James Cameron’s adrenaline-fuelled action panic fest - Aliens. The third was the badly misconceived mess - Alien³. Finally, there’s the fourth instalment, Jean-Pierre Jeunet’s Alien: Resurrection.

After 200 years, Ripley (Sigourney Weaver) is brought back to life through the process of cloning, during which the scientists successfully take the Queen Alien out of her. However, Ripley’s DNA has been mixed up with the Queen’s, making her part Xenomorph. The scientists begin breeding the aliens, but they soon escape and wreak havoc on the ship. Now, Ripley and a band of pirates have to escape and stop the alien menace from reaching Earth.

Joss Whedon’s script is interesting, largely because it’s barely an Alien movie, if at all. It’s a disaster movie, mashing up Jurassic Park and The Poseidon Adventure and setting it in space. The pack of Raptors that tore up that dinosaur theme park have been replaced with the Xenomorph creatures and they’ve all been set after a group of survivors trying to make it off the ship before it crashes. As it turns out, in light of Whedon’s projects since then, it would also act as a sort of dry run for what would become his sf/western TV series Firefly… God, that was a good show. Anyway, there is a very recognisable Whedon-ness throughout the script. You can see the nicely drawn characters, the sarcastically dark humour. It’s not all smooth sailing, though… I still don’t entirely buy Christie’s way out.

Jean-Pierre Jeunet actually does a pretty good job of engaging visually with the film. His is an Expressionistic style, almost comic booky. He conceives of shots well, in a manner that almost recalls the first film, albeit in a more exaggerated way, a more… well, French way. He also has some very effective set pieces. The underwater sequence, though nothing you haven’t seen before, works terrifically well and the sequence with Ripley and the Newborn Xenomorph/Human hybrid is very disconcerting. However, you will note that I say “visually” and not “tonally”. Jeunet, for whatever reason, just simply does not seem to get Whedon’s humour or manner of storytelling. As such, scenes that should probably have more significance are given little to no real attention. The character of Sabra is down to almost nothing, which affects both our connection to her and Frank. There are other moments that you know Whedon, had he been calling the shots, would have done differently. Like Perez’s discussions with Wren and Gediman near the start of the film. They actually are funny, but not as much as they perhaps should be. It’s not like the writing has been changed to reflect a more direct approach either; it’s just been short-circuited a little. Perhaps the reason for this was that Jeunet, at the time of filming, didn’t speak English and had to have interpreters on set at all times. He certainly wouldn’t be the first director to make a film with a language barrier between him or herself and the actors, but Whedon’s writing has a subtlety that would be very easily missed under such circumstances. Saying that, it’s also possible that Jeunet simply chose to ignore all of that and do it his way. He is the director, after all.

Sigourney Weaver is actually more alive here than she was previously. The character had gotten a little stale, regressed, and though she tried to keep her strong, Weaver was still not working with much. The idea of Ripley now being part Xenomorph has given the actress a new dimension to explore. Not only is she still the smart and brave character we know, but she’s also become a genuine threat to others. There’s a new, more menacing aspect to Ripley and Weaver realises it fully, becoming like an animalistic bully, leering into people’s faces and sniffing them. It’s also got a very weird seductive undercurrent to it. Weaver was clearly very happy to get something new out of this.

Others also do quite well for themselves. Brad Dourif seems to be incapable of not being creepy onscreen; Ron Perlman commits as much as he always does, so much so that it seems like it’s overacting, but that’s really just the vulgar nature of Johner; Leland Orser does the panicky bit well; and Michael Wincott does the badass captain well enough for his few scenes. I remain somewhat undecided on how successful Winona Ryder is. She’s convincing enough being all doe-eyed and moralistic, but I get the feeling I should be getting more from her in a ‘what’s the true nature of humanity’ kind of way that I just don’t feel.

There are others in the cast that don’t really fare as well, largely as a factor of the tonal disconnect between the writer and director. Gary Dourdan seems to be unsure of how badass his character is, so there are times where you see him hold back or act mean only to close it back up again right away. Dan Hedaya’s Perez is a little scattered, too. It almost seems like the scenes he’s in were directed by Terry Gilliam rather than Jeunet. Raymond Cruz also engages in some rather unhealthy overacting, though it wouldn't be the first time.

Honestly, I’m not even going to attempt any kind of subextual considerations since I kind of feel like the film covers the same kind of ground as the first two, though perhaps with the tables being turned and now it’s the mother’s turn to kill the offspring… and even that was sort of hinted at, albeit clumsily, in the third one.

Alien: Resurrection isn’t the confused jumble that mars its immediate predecessor, but neither does it have the spiky genius of the first two. It’s visually very engaging, it’s got some fine set pieces, has much more of an idea about the central thrust behind it all, and Sigourney Weaver is given a great new depth to play with. However, it does feel like two visions clashing (Jeunet’s and Whedon’s) to the detriment of the overall project. As such, it can’t really be elevated much beyond okay.

Air Force One (1997)

What do people want in a leader? According to actioner Air Force One, what people want is someone willing to take action. In a world of terrorism, extremism and atrocity, many have lost faith in the diplomatic process. They long for the days when justice was swift and resolute… when all it took to restore order to the little town, overrun with bad men and fear, was a single man. A man who could look the do-badders square in the eye, unphased by fear or other such concerns. One guy to shoot first and never ask questions because he already knows the right thing to do. Wouldn’t it be great if the person holding the most powerful political office in the free world was such a man?

Whilst travelling back from Russia, Soviet terrorists hijack the Presidential plane, Air Force One. When everyone is taken hostage, James Marshall (Harrison Ford), current US President and former soldier, escapes into the baggage deck and then begins to fight back against his aggressors.

Andrew W. Marlowe’s script is one painted with thoroughly broad strokes, and is soaked through with cliché. Honestly, there’s barely an ounce of brains in the whole thing. Characters are, for the most part, wafer thin and seem to have been ordered straight from a catalogue for all of their complexity. This doesn’t necessarily get in the way of enjoyment, as such, because Air Force One doesn’t seek to bowl you over with originality. It’s the B-movie western transposed to the sky, the plane taking the place of little township under threat. Good guys are good guys, bad guys are bad guys and there’s little in the way of surprises. There are some holes that come from all this simplicity. Some character motivations are left completely untouched, which does affect the logic of the whole piece somewhat. For example, Secret Service Agent Gibbs’ actions are without any explanation, which is odd considering he’s a pretty big linchpin in the plan. Apparently, they did have an explanation for it, but decided to remove it for the sake of pace. A wise move (the film is already two hours long), but it’s still a hole in things.

Really, the whole film rests not on how clever the idea is or character depth, but on the technical capability of those bringing it to life. If they can do the film hard enough and fast enough, no one will notice the basic nature of the script… and even if you do, hopefully you’ll enjoy the ride enough to not care. Wolfgang Petersen directs proceedings, and seems to be somewhat at home with the concept. Having directed the superb 1981 war film Das Boot, he has shown himself very capable in evoking that sense of claustrophobic tension of high stress situations in confined spaces. In Air Force One, he’s got a full on action flick with gunfights, fistfights and hostages to play with. He does a fine job in setting the scene, much like he did in Das Boot. The camera follows characters as they walk the plane, establishing the geography and the closeness of the quarters. We do occasionally leave the plane, going to the White House and observing the Vice President’s efforts to help from the ground. Also, we get some aerial dogfights later on between the US F15s and Russian MiGs, which are very effective, too.

The real work, though, comes from the cast. If you don’t believe that this President can rise to the challenge, the film is lost before it gets started. Fortunately, they’ve got Harrison Ford. It seems so obvious for him to be Marshall, it’s a bit strange that the first choice was Kevin Costner. Ford carries himself with the kind of stature and charisma that’s served him so well all these years, and it easily translates to Presidential authority, and when it’s time to become the action guy, he’s more than up to the task. One of Ford’s great gifts in these kinds of roles is that he looks like he’d be good in a fight, like he can take a hit. In fact, when he had to fight with Gary Oldman, he told his co-star to actually hit him. How can you not respect that kind of dedication? He’s every ounce the guy to fill these shoes.

We’re in equally good hands with Gary Oldman’s Communist bad guy, Ivan Korshunov. His character suffers as much as anyone from the kind of weak stereotyping inherent in the script, but Oldman is an unrivalled master in the realm of bad guys. In the hands of someone else, Korshunov’s words would probably feel quite hollow, but Oldman imbues them with intensity and vitriol, which forces you to take them seriously. Oldman makes everything of his big villainous moments, and he’s also got that cold, hard, unyielding stare. He could win a staring contest with a rock. Korshunov’s just as much a man of action as Marshall, and Oldman carries this off beautifully.

The supporting cast is also solid as a rock, particularly from the female contingent. Glenn Close gives her role a great strength, with just a little vulnerability peaking through occasionally; Wendy Crewson holds a great defiant dignity and presence onscreen; and Liesel Matthews, who could so easily have just felt annoying, actually does very well, especially considering her scene partners are mainly Harrison Ford and Gary Oldman. Other roles are filled with people who you will recognise from other films or TV shows, so there is a nice game of ‘What Was He In Again?’ to be had, too.

I know I shouldn’t really, because it’s not exactly the brainiest of movies, but I will talk a little about the politics of the piece. Again, this is an example of me looking into something a bit harder than is really necessary, but it is something that occurred to me during the watching. Just how much would people really want this kind of a leader? He certainly ticks all the right boxes as an action hero – soldier, family man, strong-willed, determined – and these can be attributes that go towards being a great leader of a country. However, look at other parts. When he gives a speech at the beginning of the film, he talks about how they can no longer sit behind the easy tactics of economic sanctions and diplomacy until their own concerns are threatened, that they must act immediately when they know the right thing to do, even if it doesn’t sit well with the rest of the political world… does this sound familiar to anyone else? This is the kind of broad political language that sounds like it’s impossible to disagree with, but has gotten people in a lot of trouble of late. And it’s probably not great for the President of the United States, or any democratic nation for that matter, to regard diplomacy as a kind of stall tactic or something to resort to when you don’t really want to get involved. The job of diplomat is tough, much more so than simply deciding to run in guns blazing. Sure, you want someone who can make that really tough call and send in the troops, but he does make it sound like it should be the first place to go, and that’s a little disquieting.

I don’t think the film is trying to make any kind of political assertion one way or the other, at least not intentionally, especially since we never actually know what party President Marshall represents. And again, the script is rife with this kind of broad-minded sensibility, so you can’t really take anything too seriously. The good guy says generally good things; the bad guy says generally bad things. The film is really just trying to be anti-terrorist or anti-bad-guy in order to establish a villain. If it speaks to anything, it's the idea that people are tired of a world in crisis. They watch the news and see the constant feed of atrocity, death, famine, economic downturn and other such miseries and they just want it to stop. They want someone to come in and solve everything because it's getting to be a bit much. I understand this, and so do you. And if this film offers some kind of escapism from these woes, that's fine. My concern comes if people start wanting the world to be more like the movies, and that's rarely a good idea. Anyway, I’ll end my minor political ponderings there, largely because I’m one of the least politically-minded people I know, and it’ll just devolve into ramblings… if it hasn’t already. I’ll let you all make up your own minds.

Overall, Air Force One is big and it’s pretty dumb, but it is very enjoyable. The action scenes are good, the pace is good, and the leading pair are absolutely spot on. There are some aspects of it that some may find disagreeable in light of what’s happened in the world since the film’s release, but that’s taking it more seriously than it really warrants. Just sit back and watch the big dumb movie play out its bangs and booms and such. The real world will be waiting for you when you’re done.