Gravity – film review

I feel like I should be sitting in the corner with a dunce’s hat on like a naughty boy for having not seen this at the cinema in 3D as it was intended to be seen, but after having just viewed it at home on the small screen I can honestly say that, what with my deteriorating eye condition (Retinitus Pigmentosa), I wouldn’t have been able to see much of it on the big screen anyway.

So, guilty admission and sort-of explanation/excuse aside, I really enjoyed Gravity for the one-note cinematic experience it was clearly designed to be (rather than a standard narrative film). Don’t get me wrong – it has a structure in the form of a simple series of events that you can follow, but characterisation is purposefully kept to a minimum and the claustrophobic tension is ranked up by never leaving the protagonists’ side.

This is an 87 minute rollercoaster ride in virtually every sense of the word – there’s absolutely no room for baggage on board at all.

My expectations were mixed because regardless of how many positive things I heard I just couldn’t ignore the fact that I’m not one of Sandra Bullock’s biggest fans and Gravity hasn’t changed my feelings on that matter. Not that I don’t like her, I think she’s fine in stuff but that’s about where my praise ends. Unfortunately, though, because she’s the film’s lead and one and only actor after George Clooney vanishes the film really could have done with more than just “fine”. She doesn’t say much and all the script requires of her is to be either frightened or angry, but the role needed somebody with a bit more charisma and versatility to make you care, which she just doesn’t have in my opinion.

I feel awful saying that. Sorry, Sandra.

But the film did remind me of how much I like George Clooney. I’ve never seen him as much of a looker but he does have an abundance of natural charm and charisma and, like I said, he vanishes fairly early on.

In reality, as long as they had the required acting skills, anyone could have played these parts, but with the absence of any drama other than basic human survival the marketing campaign understandably needed two big names to sell it. There’s nothing wrong with that at all, but it probably would have been more interesting with two unknowns who you had no predetermined thoughts or opinions of.

On the technical side I was surprised by how intrusive the musical score was, but I’m hoping to watch it again with some headphones on and get a better idea of the mix as I’m wondering whether the television I watched it on unintentionally flattened out the mix, an effect which spoiled the experience a little. But if the score was meant to be that intrusive then it was a bad choice by the filmmakers. I often found myself craving silence while music was banging me over the head and telling me how to feel.

Yes, I know I should feel frightened. Yes, I know I should feel suspense. Yes, I know I should feel relief. Shut up and let me feel it in my own way.

The attempt to keep the use of editing, like everything except the music, to a bare minimum felt more distracting than immersive. Just some plain camera and editing techniques would have worked just as well – maybe even better – as having the camera zoom around the place in zero gravity in continuous takes. Like with the music, I just wished the camera would stop sometimes.

Going back to the allusion of a theme park ride this was never more apparent than when the film ended. There’s a real jarring lack of a coda to help you come down from the incredibly tense experience. You’re just pulled out of your seat, pushed out of the way and told to make way for the next customer. Thanks for your business, don’t forget to visit the gift shop, do come again.

Metaphorically speaking, of course.

Well, apart from the fairly minor bugbears (or maybe they’re not so minor… they felt pretty big) I found Gravity to be a great looking film that people clearly put a lot of thought and effort into that turned out to be a fantastic ride and an experience which I’m looking forward to strapping myself in for again and analysing a little closer.

I’d definitely recommend it to anyone and everyone, but with the caveat that they not expect a standard movie going experience.

This is a ride and nothing more.

Machete Kills – film review

If the first Machete was the illegitimate love-child of a fake trailer carrying a surprisingly sincere and strong message about immigration from the side of the immigrants, then Machete Kills is its crazed half-brother wandering from town to town never really achieving anything but having a blast in the process.

In a way this outing has unwittingly (or wittingly… who knows) become a prime example of the sort of so-bad-it’s-good movie experience that the whole Grindhouse “event” was meant to be paying homage to {but not actually being}. Machete 1 played it relatively straight (wherein lay most of its humour). however Machete Kills absolutely does not in any way shape or form. And that’s not such a good thing.

Worryingly, the film borders on (and perhaps even crosses over into) Austin Powers/Hot Shots territory on too many occasions and sanitises much of the sexual content that was dealt with so gratuitously in Machete 1. There are no nude women pulling mobile phones out of their vaginas or incestuous mother/daughter poolside romps here. In fact, apart from the odd swear word and suspiciously heightened cartoonish blood and guts, you could almost mistake this for a rejected Spy Kids outing (none of which I’ve seen, but I get the funny feeling I'm watching something similar).

It’s quite short at 103 minutes (compared to a Michael Bay or Gore Verbinski snooze-fest) but feels longer, to the point where I actually had to check the back of the DVD box at one stage to see how long I had to wait until I could go to bed. Which is a sad state of affairs.

This film tests your loyalty but also rewards it. It seems to be trying so hard to make you hate it, but you can’t because all the things that made you love Machete 1 are still here (albeit embarrassingly sanitised): the blood, the babes, the bazookas and the babes. But unnecessarily thrown into the mix are protracted scenes of exposition and flashbacks spliced with convoluted and recurring plot strands and characters that don’t add anything to the experience.

We don’t need to know, we don’t want to know and, most importantly, we don’t have time to know.

There’s a bomb to defuse. Or something.

Get on with it, indeed.

Danny Trejo's limitations as an actor are woefully revealed by a script that simply gives him far too much to say. He's more effective as the strong, silent type, especially with that beautifully grizzled face that says more than ten pages of dialogue ever could. Bizarrely, his character has become somewhat cowardly since we last met him, but like the secret formula to most television sitcoms, it’s not the title character that’s interesting, it’s the entourage of weirdos they just can’t seem to shake off and who inadvertently end up taking over the whole show. I think the official Hollywood term for this is “Cybill-itis”. But this time around the roll-call of has-beens isn’t quite so interesting and neither are the newcomers (Carlos Estévez is no Charlie Sheen). Dissociative identity disorder-suffering bad guy/good guy/naïve pawn Marcos Mendez played by Demián Bichir is embarrassingly irritating (was he meant to be? I hope not) and you can’t help but feel sorry for Mel Gibson for stooping to this level; he’s not in this to be ironic like Robert De Niro (although De Niro does seem to be putting his career into a nose dive on purpose just to annoy everyone) – he actually NEEDS the work now.

I still like Mel, though.

Who can hate that face?

Oh yeah... everyone.

So, gone is the where-do-I-know-them-from sideshow novelty aspect, effective political satire/activism and shocking level of sex and violence of the first film, and arrived has the watered-down, confused, silly shenanigans that we were all sort of expecting in the first place but didn’t realise we didn’t want or need.

I think you can call this a mixed review.

I just hope that Machete Kills Again… In Space turns out to be less bad-Bond-film and ALL MACHETE.