Sniper Elite V2 - first impressions

The third instalment of this series has just been released so I thought I'd go back and give the last one a go until there's a price drop on the new one. I hadn't heard about these games at all until I watched a Let's Play the other day and thought it looked right up my street.

I was expecting something a little rough around the edges or outdated since I hadn't heard about it through word of mouth before, but after giving the demo a quick spin I was relieved and impressed to find it had top notch last-gen gameplay and visuals.

I'm not a fan of FPS games which mostly descend into chaos when I'm playing, so the idea of a third person stealth adventure seemed sorta perfect for me. I was really enjoying Deus Ex: Human Revolution until I met the first big boss (remind me to get that Director's Cut) so was mightily pleased to find something in the same vein - I much prefer sitting by a windowpane with a pair of binoculars for minutes on end searching for heads to pop up so I can blow 'em off! I've turned off the mood music as always which makes the experience a little more helpfully sedate and massages my patience.

Beyond crouching inside doorways or behind burnt out cars with your trusty sniper rifle you do have the option of close-quarters shooting with a machine gun and silenced pistol if you break cover by accident, however the third person perspective and poor accuracy of the smaller weapons makes it rather tricky... I guess it's the game's way of persuading you to keep your stealth hat on as intended.

I'm playing in cadet mode so there's no need for me to adjust my aim for wind resistance or gravity, although if I ever complete the single player campaign I'd be tempted to go back and try out the more hardcore experience just for contrast.

Actually, considering I'm such a bad shot some wind resistance may inadvertently make me a pro.

Stranger things have happened.

Anyway, the one thing that's bothering me the most about the game so far is how it seems to punish you for achieving stuff. If you succeed in completing one part of a task (other than snipering) a wave of new enemies (who're apparently psychic) will be set off even though you've been meticulous in going through the local map gleefully picking them off one by one in relative silence. The surprise influx of footfalls generally leads to panic and close-quarters chaos, which feels kinda forced and against the otherwise immersive vibe of the game.

Maybe there's a way of coping with these incidents more successfully than I am doing but, well, I'm just not there yet.

For anyone with poor eyesight the fact that the game is keen for you to take things slow will be a plus. Even when there's disorientating contrast between bright pools of sunlight and grubbily shaded piles of rubble there's always time for you to sit staring at possibly nothing just in case there's a brief sign of life. I've now moved onto a nighttime mission which is proving to be almost impossible, but considering it's at a steel mill where steam is pumped into the air to provide cover and/or confusion for you and your enemies I'm guessing there'll be few with decent vision who'll find it easy.

Even so, as with all games I'm finding little tricks to circumnavigate visual roadblocks, which isn't perfect but it'll have to do: starting the same checkpoint over and over again is one of them; starting off a section by running in and seeing where all the shots come from so I can make some sort of plan for when I respawn is another.

I'm sort of making it up as I go.

Well, I've been playing for most of the day and am looking forward to cracking on with it again tomorrow. I'm not all that curious to see how the story pans out as it's hardly a personal journey you're on, but what's keeping me hooked is waiting to see what locales the game has in store for me next. I'll definitely be buying the third game once I'm done with V2... perhaps by then I'll even have gone next-gen with a PS4.

We shall see.

I'd heartily recommended this for all those who like a bit of peace and quiet while they're mercilessly murdering video game sprites from a distance.

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.

The Hobbit: The Desolation of Smaug (2013) – film review

I found the mixed reaction to An Unexpected Journey a little surprising as, to me, it came across as a lot more faithful to the tone of J. R. R. Tolkien’s work than Peter Jackson’s own Lord of the Rings trilogy.

Even though I really liked LotR, what bothered me about Jackson’s treatment of it was that great wads of story were left out in favour of endless and tiresome action set pieces. Moments that originally may only have taken up a paragraph’s worth of material in Tolkien’s prose. So, with the decision to expand The Hobbit into three films instead of two, Jackson is proving that, had he had the chance to make nine LotR films, they probably would have been a lot more satisfying to the Tolkien purists.

Basically, The Hobbit feels like how LotR should have felt – like a travelogue. A sprawling collection of notes about a journey and the peoples encountered on that journey, with the odd sprinkling of peril thrown in.

The Desolation of Smaug starts off how I thought AUJ should have started off: with Gandalf and Thorin Oakenshield meeting at The Prancing Pony for the first time. However, the decision to move it to the second film does provide the audience with a reminder of what’s going on and why. A clever device, for sure, but it still feels a little strange tacked on to the start of this episode.

The first quarter or third of the film was enough of a mess to make me fear I was about to experience a repeat of the The Two Towers, but once the scenes with Beorn are out of the way, the film hits its stride perfectly. Boern is basically The Hobbit’s answer to Tom Bombadil from LotR, in that he’s a confusing character who doesn’t serve much purpose to the overall thrust of the story.

And a character who’s just bloody hard to bring to life on the screen.

The spider attack in Mirkwood forest made me turn away, just as I thought it would. Luckily, and I use that term very loosely, my failing eyesight cut out a lot of the really yucky stuff. The barrel riding sequence defied my bored expectations and won me over completely, providing a staggering rollercoaster ride of a chase without dragging its heals.

The mean elven king Thraduil, played with glee by Lee Pace, was marvellously devilish, and the addition of Evangeline Lilly as the spunky Tauriel to “girl-up” the testosterone-heavy cast was a brilliant choice. Luke Evans’ Bard is understandably given more to do on film, considering the key role he will be playing in the third film, and Evans carries the weight well. Such beefing up of the characters and plot is entirely justified, considering the very slender series of events and characterisations that appear in the actual book.

I was surprised to find Jackson and his team pinching amiably, but most likely unconsciously, from both Alien 3 and Ninja Scroll when it came to the dwarves tackling Smaug the dragon. I have no problem with this. The whole final section was a pleasant surprise of an adventure, that added yet more meat to a very raw bone.

I was expecting more of Martin Freeman in this one, but he’s yet again sidelined in what has now officially become The Richard Armitage Show. That’s not to say Freeman isn’t good, he just has a lot more to do that to say. This makes his character crucial but lacking the memorable lines and humour that the dwarf pack are blessed with. In fact, Bilbo is painted with much darker shades, now that he’s become a Ring Bearer, unaware of the trouble he’s found himself in until it’s too late. He’s a tragic figure here, even more so than Frodo, in that Bilbo has no idea what’s happening to him, whereas Frodo will.

So, yes, after an unassuming start, the film rises to the perfect pitch that An Unexpected Journey managed and gives those who felt Jackson raced through Lord of the Rings something to savour at last.

If you’re a true Tolkien fan, then ignore any negative or mixed reviews you may read from those who simply don’t get it.

You’ll love it.

Do stay in touch, darlings.

Toodles!

Hobo with a Shotgun (2011) – film review

Seemingly inspired more by the sincere splatter genre than the “in it for the money” Grindhouse exploitation industry, Hobo with a Shotgun builds on its original basic revenge-thriller fake trailer into something greater and quite unexpected.

As with the best of the splatter output, Hobo with a Shotgun is a horror movie for people who don’t like scares, but instead enjoy the OTT thrills and chills of ridiculous amounts of fake blood and theatrical amputations. It’s not offensive, it’s just a live action cartoon for adults.

Amongst its many influences are to be found ingredients from Evil Dead 2, Braindead, and Tokyo Gore Police liberally folded into the mix, as well as nods to classic anime, with The Plague duo being reminiscent of the apparently-indestructible Gold and Silver team from Osamu Dezaki’s 1983 Golgo 13: The Professional.

If you’re wanting to look deeper into the film’s subtext, then you could also see this as an unofficial prequel to Ridley Scott’s Blade Runner, with Rutger Hauer’s disillusioned replicant, Roy Batty, arriving at the Westworld-like twentieth century-themed Hope Town, where violence and corruption are acted out for the pleasure of the masses. It is here, in Hope Town, where Batty meets Blade Runner’s Priss for the first time, in the form of Molly Dunsworth’s hooker-with-a-heart-of-gold “Abby”.

But maybe that’s just me imagining things.

Director Jason Eisner manages to keep control of a visually off-the-rails production, doing what the exploitation films he pays tribute to often fail to do, which is to be not boring. Although he surely couldn’t have pulled off such a laudable feat without the touching, played-for-straight performances of Hauer and Dunsworth, along with an inventive crew of special effects artists.

My above theory, that Hope Town is really a theme park for bloody entertainment, is my only way to explain the one area where the film slightly lets itself down, which is in the performances of its villains. They certainly don’t play it straight. I imagine that they too are replicants, programmed to act like people in 2019 believe people acted like a few decades previously. At least I hope that’s the reason. This can also help to explain some of the heightened scenes of horror and rampant amorality that pass by the in-film general public, without them doing much about it. In particular, one scene involving a packed school bus and a flame thrower.

But whichever way you look at it, Hobo with a Shotgun stands as a monument to harmless bad taste and Rutger Hauer’s undiminished status as both an A and B-movie icon. He gives a tour-de-force performance that warms the heart. As well as the adrenaline gland. I can only theorise that, had he not been onboard, this would not have been as great as it is.

Do stay in touch, darlings.

Toodles!

Jack the Giant Slayer – film review

It’s a dirty job to be mean about something that tries so hard, with barely a shred of cynicism, to be as good natured and entertaining as Jack The Giant Slayer, but I guess somebody has to do it.

Opening with a fairytale reading so similar to the Hellboy: The Golden Army prologue that it borders on plagiaristic, Jack The Giant Slayer accidentally sucks the joy out of a timeless kids fable by trying to infuse it with darker and more complex elements – elements it didn’t really need and elements you didn’t really want, so by the time you realise you’re being fed lumpy and unnecessary exposition you’ve probably already missed it.

Hands up anyone who remembers what they were told in the first ten minutes. No? Yeah, me neither.

Well, strangely enough, after this failed attempt to beef up the Jack and the Beanstalk mythology the film descends into fey medieval pantomime territory with all the style and sophistication of a  second rate BBC television miniseries. Tents? Check. Flags? Check. Chickens? Check. Fire breathing entertainer in a bustling market place? Check.

Yet while permitting such worryingly old-hat production design clichés director Bryan Singer also seems to be suffering from Peter Jackson Fever (a real medical condition in Hollywood), therefore most of the dialogue has had to be dubbed-over in the Additional Dialogue Recording (ADR) stage so as to suck the spontaneity out of all its performances and every shot that opens a new scene has to swoop in on a crane – preferably over a babbling brook or a conveniently placed piece of set dressing.

But beyond the slightly distracting nods to dear old P.J. a strong visual signature is noticeably lacking. Singer has never had the most consistent or striking visual style, in fact I’m doubtful I could pick one of his films out of a line-up, but you can usually tell that he tries hard to add some flare to proceedings, whether or not he succeeds.

Jack The Giant Slayer is an example of when he doesn’t.

As mentioned above the overall look of the film is pretty flat in a low-budget TV production sense, as are the special effects that even a video game developer might send back with detailed notes for improvement; but elsewhere the writing is beyond abysmal and not helped by the bad ADR work and the film’s two lifeless leads (Nicholas Hoult and Eleanor Tomlinson) who both look and sound as though they could do with a hot meal to boost their energy levels and pad out their walking-skeleton physiques.

Fear not, though, as aid comes in the form of the film’s supporting players, in particular Ewan McGreggor as a pompous knight who seems always on the verge of anachronistically shouting out “chocks away!”, Ian McShane who’s just great in everything and the far too marginalised for anybody’s liking chameleonic appearance of the wonderful Stanley Tucci.

But whether or not you can digest the stilted dialogue, the occasional wooden performance or the added plot mechanics you’ll still end up grooving along to the basic beats of the classic Jack and the Beanstalk fable with added gross-out humour and gratuity-free action sequences (the final castle siege is mercifully less Battle of the Pelennor Fields and more Diet Helms Deep).

So by failing in its intention to be weighty and edgier than its roots require Jack The Giant Slayer can’t help but be a simple and fun bit of fluff that only lets itself down with some excruciating dialogue, a wet pair of lovebirds and the lack of a strong creative vision.

Basically you won’t be bored, but you’ll want to plug your ears up about five times a scene.

Sherlock Holmes: A Game Of Shadows – film review

Although Guy Ritchie’s first Sherlock Holmes installment was wearyingly clichéd in its plotting the charismatic diversionary tactics of Robert Downey Jr in the title role; Philippe Rousselot’s lush cinematography; Sarah Greenwood’s immersive production design; and James Herbert’s snappy editing made it a fabulously enjoyable treat for the senses, if perhaps not for the brain.

A Game Of Shadows, however, is a vicious assault on the senses and has even less to offer the brain. Even worse is that it doesn’t even offer us the simple thrill of a troubled but dashing Sherlock Holmes solving a complex mystery in Victorian London. No. As for reasons beyond comprehension it turns into a dull and torturously bombastic euro-thriller – a James Bond in tweed, if you will.

Gone is the richly colourful photography; instead the whole look of the film is drowned in horribly muted blues and lifeless greys that render everything that happens unpleasant to look at. Even Hans Zimmer’s vibrantly traditional score from the first film has been replaced by the sort of overbearing musical onslaught we thought he’d left behind in the 90s.

So where did it all go wrong?

I’m not sure, but the move from 1.85:1 aspect ratio to 2.40:1 doesn’t help in providing visual continuity or the intimate humour from the first film. This one feels distant, detached and cold. Strange, really, considering the main visual creative team is the same.

So, adding to this step down in audio/visual quality some forgettable actors, characters, plot devices and action sequences things aren’t looking great at all for A Game Of Shadows.

But within the mess, somewhere, is a much better film. The midsection lost my attention so completely that by the end I neither knew nor cared what was happening (not because it was complicated but because it was boring), however the start and end were enjoyable and only served to make me lament what might have been. Could the midsection be trimmed down to its bare plot essentials? Could Hans Zimmer replace his score with something more in keeping with what he gave us in the first instalment? Could someone tweak the colour grading digitally to brighten the tone and give it the vibrancy of its predecessor?

If there’s a third instalment I sincerely hope the producers realise where they went wrong with A Game Of Shadows and pull the series back into a more fun, lean and colourful line.

This one simply gets it wrong.