Source Code v Little White Lies v Sucker Punch

Long time, no blog. Work and ill health have got in the way of me getting to the movies, but both have alleviated of late, so here are my thoughts of my most recent filmic conquests:

Source Code
Duncan ‘Moon’ Jones second film is another sci-fi twister. As with his debut, the definition of the reality in which the hero exists is in a constant state of flux. Leaning heavily on both Groundhog Day and 12 Monkeys for its concept, the story of Jake Gyllenhaal’s soldier’s attempt to discover the identity of the perpetrator of a terrorist bomb attack on a packed commuter train grips throughout, aided by a top drawer performance from the star (who saves the best to last).
Gyllenhaal’s mission presents him with moral quandries, both enforced by his superiors and the laws of science.
The film has some flaws, not least its triple conclusions, Clint Mansell being unavailable to craft the score and Jones’s decision to drive the film’s point home at the last. A leaner, colder-hearted approach might have worked better overall.
But the scene in which Gyllenhaal telephones his father is a choker, competing for impact with Stander’s phonecall to his father in Stander.
But what stands out is Jones’s ability to create a sense of unease, of reality being our unsteady, ever-shifting master. More please!
Score: 7.5/10

Little White Lies
Perusing the listings for some classy entertainment, Guillaume Canet’s Little White Lies seemed to fit the bill. His last film, international hit thriller Tell No One, means he has form, and highlighted his typically French obsession for Hitchcockesque intrigue and chills.
While Hitch’s thrills and chills are absent from his latest effort, the detached observation of other people’s foibles and failures is all-too apparent as he mercilessly dissects the bourgeois lifestyle of the menagerie of friends and hangers on that gather for their traditional summer holiday.
Rather than have their rituals and relationships pressurised and probed by an interloper, the story instead hinges on the absence of a key character – with him unable to join them on holiday, their lives begin to unravel.
And they do so with great humour. Now French humour is not known for its ability to travel, but the first two-thirds of this film is deeply funny, occasionally drifting into the WTF territory – the characters are that mad.
The final third of the movie moves into the more expected dramatic and tragic. If the ending is a little pat, it nevertheless reinforces the irony that the only way the characters can learn to value life is through death.
Don’t be fooled by the posters, this is not a film focusing solely on the divine Marion Cotillard (good as she is): the large ensemble cast gets almost equal screentime, but the stand-out performance comes from Francois Cluzet (the star of Tell No One). Expect him to figure in the Golden Stans.
The film is long, but simply breezes by such is the grip it exerts: you just never know what’s going to happen next.
I laughed and I cried: what more can I say?
Score: 8.5/10

Sucker Punch
What planet does Zack Snyder live on? That’s the question I was left asking myself after Sucker Punch.
Sucker Punch follows hot on the heels of mega-flop Legend of the Guardians: The Owls of Ga’Hoole, and Watchmen and 300, its main selling point being hot young women wearing little while shooting guns and wielding swords.
And on that basis it pretty much delivers its masturbatory fantasy… but on any other level it clearly is utter tripe. “Don’t write a cheque with your mouth that you can’t cash with your ass,” is one of the better lines barked by Scott Glenn (who presumably took the role so he could hang out with some hotties…), while Jon Hamm’s appearance drew collective gasps of astonishment (the world is his oyster after Mad Men, and he chooses to be in this nonsense: WTF?!).
What about the story, you ask. Fuck the story: in Snyder’s head, the film didn’t need one because it’s got HOT CHCICKS WITH GUNS…
What about the hot chicks, you then ask. Emily Browning, as Baby Doll (no, really), is 23 going on 16 (there’s something deeply wrong here), while Jena Malone, as Rocket, comes across as the new Meg Ryan (and that’s not necessarily a bad thing). Abbie Cornish, as the strangely statuesque Sweet Pea, takes the few acting honours available, clearly choosing to rise above Synder’s debasing view of womanhood and salvage something for herself.
The only glimmer of hope offered by the film is the astonishing prologue, which competes effectively with Up for condensing the film’s set-up into a brief, near-silent, shocking montage: just may be Snyder has some talent after all.
He’d better have because his next flick is the Chris Nolan-produced reboot of Superman… and the big blue boyscout deserves so much better than what Snyder has on display here.
Score: 2/10