Black Sea, Get Santa and Men, Women & Children – Richards Reckons Reviews

That title is a bit confusing, granted, but I’ve never used the Oxford comma and hell, I’m not gonna start now. So no, the second film isn’t “Get Santa and Men”, that’s an entirely different film which I’m sure is available to order on DVD from some online black market store.

ANYWAY, first things first (I’m the realest), Black Sea.

Blimey Jude, alright, we’ll get there.

Black Sea is not just about Felixstowe’s beaches; in fact, it doesn’t even reference them. Nay, Black Sea follows a man named Robinson (Jude Law, the originally J-Law), who has been made redundant after being a submariner with a shipping salvage company for over 20 years, and after basically losing his family to the job too. So he’s a bit hacked off. He then gets a tip off about a sunken U-Boat from World War 2 filled with Nazi gold waiting in the, well, black sea of Crimea. So he gathers a half Russian, half British team (with a cowardly American and a psychopathic Australian thrown in for good measure) in a rusty old Russian sub to salvage the gold; however a number of problems occur, especially when friction between the Russian and British submates starts to come into fruition…

Director Kevin Macdonald, whose work includes The Last King of Scotland, uses the submarine setting very well indeed; emphasising the claustrophobic environment by seldom leaving it at all. Even when we do leave the sub, it’s only to see the exterior; never above the surface. It positions you, as a viewer, in the submarine itself and makes you feel as trapped, cabin feverish and smelly (just the bloke sat near me then?) as the men onboard the sub itself. In turn, this makes the tension ramping up feel very close to home, and just as impactful.

The performances here are all very solid, including from J-Law Mk 1 as the surprisingly level-headed captain scotsman (whose accent very occasionally can drift into bum notes). All the crew portray the bubbling tension very well (some, of course, more hotheaded than others), never reaching cartoonish levels of anger. There’s an underlying social commentary on how the men of the Navy are treated after their stints and are proverbially thrown on the scrapheap of life, so to speak. There are shots of job centres, rants about poverty, various twists and “the man” to back this up, so it’s hardly subtle but it’s still a reasonable subtext to have.

While Black Sea lacks, er, fun and laughs, it’s heavy on character, pressure and setpieces; it has all the bearings of a heist movie, except underwater and in a pressure-cooker environment. Just as the rusty pipes clang and various parts blow up, the men grow more and more desperate; both for their money and for their lives. The film is a very well shot, solid descent into what happens when human beings, who have been treated badly by the system anyway, are pushed to their very limits.

Next, it’s Get Santa!

You may think from the title alone that Get Santa is solely about getting santa, but not in the “get ’em boys!” sense. And you’d be absolutely right, yes, but there is more to it than that. Just a few days before Christmas, Santa (Jim Broadbent) crashes his sled, leading to his reindeer being spotted roaming about London, and the man himself taking refuge in the garden of young Tom (Kit Connor). His father Steve (Rafe Spall) is a getaway driver who has just got out of prison, and is roped in to help Santa by his son after he is sent to prison for trying to rob his reindeers back from Battersea Dog’s Home. While Santa tries to convince people of his identity and survive jail, can Steve and Tom track down everything in time and save Christmas?

Bizarrely, this is produced by Ridley Scott, and is directed by Christopher Smith of Brit horrorfests Creep and Severance fame, so it’s quite a change of pace from the norm for them. Even with these names on board, after Nativity 3: Dude, Where’s My Sanity?, I was somewhat trepidatious when it came to this movie; that it would have all the cringeworthy, gurning and just awful beats that it had, becoming an embarrassment to the British film industry. And while it’s not a shining light and a stone cold classic Christmas movie, Get Santa is a warm and funny enough diversion from Christmas shopping to warrant having a watch.

I mean, don’t get me wrong, the story is ridiculous, and to begin with actually quite hard edged. Prison, a criminal father and an apparently messy divorce don’t exactly scream “HOORAY YAY CHRISTMAS!” straight away, and nor do the admittedly quite bleak colour tones towards the beginning. But, when it gets there, it’s quite a colourful affair; playing with and using the Northern lights and “Lapland” to good effect. The somewhat ludicrous story is actually a touchstone of most Christmas movies in themselves, so it’s to be expected, and the plot holes may be papered over by Christmassy wrapping paper but they’re still there.

Rafe Spall and Jim Broadbent shine in this in their roles as the somewhat dodgy but well meaning father and Santa himself, with Jim Broadbent in particular being an “Ah eureka!” moment of casting. Stephen Graham, Warwick Davies and Jodie Whittaker are also all on good form here but are somewhat overused. There are the odd jokes that make you chuckle (such as Santa walking in slow mo down the prison corridors to the tones of the NWA, or the odd japes with the police), but nothing is really gutbustingly hilarious or all out moving to tears.

All in all then, Get Santa has some unique points to it (pour example the giant letterboxes for all santa’s letters), and a funny enough concept with good casting to get it through, but it doesn’t have enough originality or family laughs per minute to quite reach the absolute Christmas classic level of Elf, Muppet Christmas Carol or Die Hard (yes, Die Hard is a Christmas film, watch it again and tell me otherwise). So if you fancy seeing a family Christmas film and Paddington is sold out, you could do a lot worse than Get Santa.

Right, finally then, Men, Women & Children.

So, what is this extremely vaguely titled film about? Well, it follows a series of stories that intertwine with one another in a small way; mainly, it’s about families with teenage kids who all go to the same high school. The film examines their problems and issues in relation to the internet and their technology. It includes, and isn’t limited to, anorexia, porn addiction, extra marital sex and cyber smothering.

So heavy stuff there, obviously, with such massive relevance in this day and age. Writer and director Jason Reitman has given us some very good movies in the past too, with Juno and Up in the Air under his belt. And with a high quality cast and some fairly slick visuals to boot, this story is gonna be good, right? Riight…?

Wrong.

It’s a massive disappointment.

First off, the stories – it makes a narrative choice to keep five story plates spinning at the same time that intertwine with each other rather than have the episodically, which is very brave, as they all reach their crescendos. But it just doesn’t work. Some stories get lost in the mix, others climax (stop laughing) at times when others don’t and therefore undermine one another. The stories themselves, too, are all very undeveloped and stale (and often ridiculous). It all feels a bit like Reitman has stuck his storytelling fork into a bowl of quite poor narrative spaghetti and has slopped down the tangled and confused mess onto a plate and said “there you go, eat that!”.

Some of the stories are based on good ideas and themes, but it just all feels a bit… preachy and tell-offy. “The internet is bad… sometimes!” is the vibe it tends to give off; a completely confused message that is very selective and ham-fisted. It feels like a film that desperately wants to say something but has absolutely no idea what – simultaneously condemning internet freedom and internet restriction. The performances are actually very good, and I must say that Adam Sandler is actually, for once, one of the best bits of it, as he is good in this (I know!). But the writing and dialogue is all so poor and often boring that even the good performances swallow themselves like a black hole of tedium. As soon as you see Ansel Egort’s trembly little lips you can tell pretty much exactly what is going to happen in his mumblecore story segment, as you can with frankly a lot of them. It is literally just some stuff happening, some nonsensical, which have a small relation to the internet.

Men, Women & Children is a long, confused, preachy, modern-while-old-fashioned, boring and predictable disappointment from Reitman. Even the wonderful Emma Thompson gives her voice over with a degree of “why am I doing this?” in her tones as she speaks over a satellite drifting around space (yep, seriously, it’s bookended by space). Don’t bother.

Get On Up, Paddington & Horrible Bosses 2 – Richards Reckons Reviews

A soul legend, a bear legend and, er, a Kevin Spacey (who is, ya know, a legend) cameo appear in this instalment of Richards (legend, if I do say so myself) Reckons in a whole host of reviews. Sorry, I’ve said legend too many times and now it doesn’t seem like a word anymore…

Anyway, right, Get On Up.

So, like many musical biopics, Get On Up is about a musical hero, and the hero in this case is the godfather (no, not that one) of soul James Brown, played by future Marvel superhero Chadwick Boseman. It follows the man from his humble roots living in the woods to international superstardom, focussing on his ascent in musical history and his relationships with longtime contributor Bobby Byrd (Nelsan Ellis), his agent Ben Bart (Dan Ackroyd) and his various bandmates and partners over the years.

The film isn’t exactly told in chronological order; in fact, it jumps around all over his timeline like a grasshopper on a pogo stick. Now, much like a grasshopper on a pogo stick, this works some of the time and sometimes it does not; indeed, the first time we see him is in the late 80s holding a shot gun at a small conference, demanding to know who used his loo. It’s not an obvious place to start, but it’s an intriguing one, leaving you wanting to know quite how he got to that level. The device of a flashback flashforward structure is a mixed bag but it makes the film feel as dynamic as the man himself.

It ticks all the boxes of a good musical biopic; including parts of the story being related to real world events, such as Vietnam and the assassination of Dr Martin Luther King being thrown into the mix. But what elevates this above a solid but standard fair is the not so much performance but inhabitation of James Brown by Chadwick Boseman. Everything, from his dancing to his movement to his voice and mannerisms is absolutely spot on. It’s an astounding role played astoundingly; the role of a slightly unhinged hero is one that actors would cherish to play, and Boseman does it so so well it’s hard to imagine anybody else doing it.

Speaking of unhinged, if I had a criticism of the movie I would say that it does somewhat paper over some of the cracks of the negative parts of his characters. He treats some of the women in his life appallingly, including domestic abuse; the film shows this happen but then doesn’t focus on how she feels about it, or even his guilt about it. It also shows his terrible treatment of some of his bandmates, but never really focusses on the repercussions of this; it just kind of shows it happening and then moves on. That said, the film could easily have omitted all these elements altogether and made Brown a completely clean hero, which would feel both wrong and inauthentic.

The musical numbers in this film too are also fantastic, using original James Brown recordings to great effect in conjunction with some wonderful choreography. But as I say the blistering performance from Chadwick Boseman really does steal the show here and separates, as well as elevates, Get On Up to another level. If you’re a fan of not just soul but music at all, get on up off your computer and see it when you can!

The next station is Paddington. Change here for joy, warmth and heart.

Based on the classic Michael Bond creation, Paddington is a modern retelling of the classic tale, which goes a little something like this; a young bear (Ben Wishaw) lives in Darkest Peru with his Auntie Lucy and Uncle Pastuzo (Imelda Staunton & Michael Gambon). One day, there’s a terrible earthquake, and his Auntie Lucy suggests that he go and find a new home in London, because they “know how to welcome new people there”. So off he goes to London, but doesn’t quite find the warm reception he was anticipating. At Paddington station, with a label around his neck saying “please look after this bear”, the Brown family (including Hugh Bonneville and Sally Hawkins) find him and decide to take him in. From there, fuzzy chaos ensues.

There’s been a lot of pseudo-controversy surrounding Paddington recently. FIrst about Colin Firth’s “conscious uncoupling” (a term coined I believe by Chris Martin’s failed marriage) from the project; Colin Firth was originally meant to be voicing the little bear himself, but decided along with the creative team that it was best to part with the project. Secondly, the BBFC rated the film as “PG” rather than “U”, which caused a massive stir (not helped by newspapers, certainly) due to “sexual references”; it has since been changed to “inneundo”, which is a small downgrade, but it wasn’t as if before this Paddington was wearing a bra and eyeing up Mr Brown like a toyboy. So in the face of this swirling controversy, people were worried about quite how this national icon was going to be portrayed on screen.

It gives me great pleasure to say that Paddington is an utter delight; like a big, warm hug of a movie, almost like getting a cuddle from the bear himself.

The reason it works so well is down to a sweet, marmalade-like mix of features. Firstly, the bear himself. I mentioned earlier about the conscious uncoupling by Colin Firth from the movie, and in a way actually I’m glad because I now cannot imagine him having any other voice apart from Ben Wishaw’s. It’s got everything that Paddington needs; warmth, sweetness, versatility – it has everything in spades. Colin Firth’s voice would feel too aloof and not playful enough. The animation of the bear himself is phenomenal, giving him so much presence and emotion in the movie and none of that dead eyes that other animated characters have suffered from in recent years. Director Paul King of Mighty Boosh fame does a fantastic job of placing Paddington firmly as the focus of every scene, and making him not seem out of place at the same time.

The writing too is genuinely funny for people of all ages, with archetypes, references and puns galore for the adults and gloriously (not annoyingly) silly jokes for both regular sized kids and big kids. The plot too is easy to follow for kids; there is a protagonist, yes, in the form of Nicole Kidman as an ardent taxidermist, but she isn’t any more terrifying than perhaps Cruella de Vil is to kids. There are scenes that are sad and scenes where Paddington is in danger, but these scenes are absolutely necessary for a family film so that there are bits where the kids can root for Paddington instead of watching him stumble through life (as entertaining as that is!).

It’s a warm hug of a movie, with an underlying political message of acceptance and the “welcoming British” which, in a time of UKIP and rows about immigration, is a wonderful thing to see. It’s a love letter to the character, and to British charm and wit. Please, PLEASE take your children to see Paddington over Nativity 3: Dude Where’s My Donkey? this Christmas; it deserves it so much more, and is a better experience for everybody on pretty much every front. And temptation of suicide would be far, far lower with Paddington…

And finally, time for Horrible Bosses 2.

These Horrible Bosses have a plot, and that plot is this; Nick, Kurt and Dale (Jason Bateman, Jason Sudeikis and Charlie Day) are back, and have had an idea for an invention since we last saw them trying to murder their bosses. The invention is the “shower buddy”. They go on the telly with their idea and get noticed by Burt and Rex Hanson (Christoph Waltz and Chris Pine), Burt being the owner of a big billionaire company who want to distribute the “shower buddy” – however it turns out that Burt gleefully backs out of the deal and rips off their idea, leaving them $500,000 in debt. Obviously miffed by this, they cook up a scheme to kidnap Rex and hold him to ransom, demanding their money back. But, as with last time, things don’t go to plan.

As with all sequels, your level of acceptance of Horrible Bosses 2 will teeter down to whether or not you liked the first one. And in this case your level of tolerance with Charlie Day’s voice (mine is higher than perhaps some folks’ is). It is by all means not going to convert anybody new to the franchise, and it has just the same level of filthy gags, comic ineptitude and some admittedly quite funny cameos from major stars such as Kevin Spacey, Jamie Foxx and Jennifer Anniston. It’s so similar in fact that it bears the question quite why this one was made; dollar signs are the answer here, of course, nothing more.

That said, I have seen worse comedy sequels in my time. Quite how absolutely hapless and stupid Dale and Kurt are while coming up with these schemes is certainly entertaining to watch, and some of the phonetic jokes are better than the pointlessly filthy ones. I for one can find a rude joke quite funny and have a high tolerance of them, but the same thing again and again and again can get a bit tiresome. Still though, there are enjoyable things to be found in Horrible Bosses 2, such as the admittedly quite slick editing (they love a good montage) and entertaining sequences, even if it is farfetched and ridiculous. The cameos from old horrible bosses Kevin Spacey and Jennifer Anniston do feel like they’ve been blu-tac’d on to the plot somewhat for the sake of having them back, but they’re JUST ABOUT enjoyable enough to warrant them being there. There’s also a nice role in there too for Jonathan Banks (aka Mike in Breaking Bad), essentially playing the same cop role as ever, but he plays it so well that hey, I ain’t complaining.

So with Horrible Bosses 2 there are a few laughs in there for returning fans of the first film, and some enjoyable sequences and cameos, but the feeling of “… what was the point of this again?” can’t quite escape from your mind during the running time. However, there are certainly worse comedies out there.

The Hunger Games: Mockingjay Part 1, Nativity 3: Dude Where’s My Donkey? & The Drop – Richards Reckons Reviews

What do an ass (as in a donkey, not as in dat booty), a mockingjay (as in the fictional bird, not making fun of The Inbetweeners character) and a dog have in common? Well, apart from being fictional as well as not so fictional animals, they all feature in this triple decker post of film reviews from this very week.

First off, it’s Nativity 3: Dude Where’s My Donkey? 

Despite what the title suggests, the central thrust of the plot here is not actual a quest for an ass gone AWOL. No, instead, it is this; Jeremy Shepherd (Martin Clune, Martin Clune) has been brought into St. Bernadette’s school in Coventry as a ‘super teacher’ to bring the whole school into check before a dreaded Ofsted inspection. He brings his daughter with him to work, and is soon to be wed to Sophie (Catherine Tate) in New York. Mr Poppy (Marc Wootton) is still at the school causing havoc and generally disrupting learning, and this time has a fascination with his donkey Archie, who he for some reason brings to school with him. Mr Shepherd gets rid of the donkey but, in the process, gets kicked in the head and can’t remember anything at all. Instead of taking him to a hospital, Mr Poppy and the class decide to, with their seemingly infinite amount of money, take him on a tour around places from his childhood so his memory come back, before also entering a flash mob competition in London to win tickets to New York so he can wed Sophie again.

People who know me outside of this blog (or ‘IRL’ as the kids call it) will know that I am borderline fanatical about Christmas. I LOVE Christmas. The songs, the cheer, the togetherness, the gifts, the food, the lights, the warm fuzzy feeling of Christmas day finally arriving; if Christmas were a person, they’d have a restraining order on me by now. This film genuinely feels like somebody’s attempt to make me hate Christmas; like a kind of sick aversion therapy to Yuletide cheer.

Here’s a picture of a chicken nugget.

That picture is more entertaining than Nativity 3.

Firstly, the writing is utterly, utterly dreadful. Director Debbie Isitt (Isitt worth it, Debbie? Isitt?) makes a point out of giving her child cast the skeleton of the story and letting the kids come out with the rest; a technique that sounds familiar, because it’s exactly what the makers of Outnumbered do. The difference is, with Outnumbered it’s actually funny, sweet and the talent is nurtured and organic, backed up with a funny story as its backbone. In contrast and to use the same metaphor, Nativity 3 has a damp breadstick of a plot as its backbone, and it feels like the poor child cast have been uncomfortably forced to go through it over and over and over again until they’re literally red in the face. I have absolutely no idea what Martin Clunes and Catherine Tate are doing here as they are utterly, utterly wasted and, surprisingly, bring absolutely nothing to their poorly written dialogue.

The plot makes NO SENSE either. It feels like a 4 year old child has been forced to watch Glee and Trance and has written a teardrop covered story out of shreds of what he has just seen in crayon. Its reliance on the classic “I hit my head and forgot everything about my life” plot beat is ridiculous to begin with, but the fact that Mr Poppy then takes him along with a CLASS OF 30 CHILDREN (one of whom looks about 16 despite it being set at a PRIMARY SCHOOL) to the north of England AND TO F*CKING NYC without any kind of police investigation is astoundingly dumb. It also relies on the popularity of flash mobs (including an extended one echoing that contemporary pop classic Gangnam Style); something that I’m pretty sure hasn’t been in the public consciousness since 1837 (that may be a small exaggeration). The original songs that have been written to accompany said flashmobs are also utterly forgettable, with the odd few being dreadful. And they keep coming too. Over and over and over again; and just when you think that must be too many, there can’t be any more, ANOTHER sneaks up on you like a hit in the head.

Now, you may sense that I am being a little mean here or that “Richards, you’re NOT a child, and this film is FOR KIDS!!!”. But honestly, in terms of the humour, the songs and… well, pretty much everything about this film, the children of this country deserve so, so much better. I like to support British film where I can and the Nativity franchise has made lots and lots of money, but I cannot stress enough how awful this film is for pretty much everybody. There’s cartoonish gurning, slapstick, farting (SO much farting, not even the odd squeak, but it’s put in almost constantly like a buffer between flashmobs), and falling off/into things; stuff that kids can recognise as repetitive, boring and lazy. Avoid Nativity 3: Dude, Where’s My Donkey? as much as you can.

Phew. Right, now then, time for The Hunger Games: Mockingjay Part 1.

So then, here’s the plot for this instalment of the games; Katniss Everdeen (Jennifer “J-Law (which confusingly isn’t also Jude Law’s nickname” Lawrence) has pretty much smashed the very concept of the Hunger Games into oblivion and has gone into hiding underground (quite literally) in District 13 with the rest of the revolutionary forces led by President Coin (Julianne Moore) and Plutarch Heavensbee (the tragically late Philip Seymour Hoffman) against President Snow (Donald Sutherland) and the extremely indulgent Capitol, who have taken Peeta (Josh Hutcherson) hostage. Katniss is broken and terrified, but Coin and Heavensbee want her in fighting form to become the figurehead (or the “mockingjay”) for the revolution. Will she accept becoming an idol for the uprising?

I make no bones about it; I really, really like The Hunger Games series. It’s one of the best franchises out there at the moment in that it doesn’t hold back; it’s suitably dark where it needs to be, but in a classy rather than trashy way, with a richly designed backdrop and writing that’s intelligent and doesn’t dumb down for the audiences, but rather treats them with the respect that films should do. It makes me feel ruddy pleased to say that, thanks to director Francis Lawrence and the rest of the good team Hungames (I’m sure they call themselves that), this instalment is no different.

This is very much the Deathly Hallows Part 1, or first-of-a-Doctor-Who-two-parter of The Hunger Games franchise, with lots and lots of build up and character moments rather than outright battles and action aplenty. Some have bemoaned this instalment for not being action packed enough or not having enough setpieces, but I believe this works to the series benefit as a whole. A lack of action does not at all make a film boring. Many people have criticised Hollywood’s latest approach of splitting adapted stories into two halves as being cash ins or milking it (The Hobbit being the absolute worst offender of this, splitting a very small book into THREE), but Mockingjay Part 1 works in that there are plenty of character moments that are very well played by its cast, and more than enough going on within it to warrant its existence in the first place.

Rather than battles on the battlefield or in the arena (which, as we discovered at the end of the previous film, actually looks a bit like the Eden Project, this is a film where the battles take place on the airwaves and in the media (yet another film this year in which this is the case, actually); the Capitol and the Mockingjay hijacking each other and sending messages out to the people to enrage/calm them respectively, a bit like two squabbling children (though one is significantly bigger and richer than the other) fighting over a remote control. Blood is certainly spilt and the tension is certainly there in parts, but this time it’s outside the arena, giving the appearance that nobody is safe at any time. It’s a tension that weighs down on Katniss’ shoulders heavily and Jennifer Lawrence portrays it wonderfully, showing her to be capable, spiteful, vulnerable, inspirational and broken often all at once.

While perhaps not as fast paced as Catching Fire, there’s still plenty of surprises, well written AND well performed characters (it’s hard to think of a dull note performance wise), dialogue and subtext to warrant seeing Mockingjay Part 1; it’ll certainly make you extremely excited for Mockingjay Part 2…

It also has Natalie Dormer in it too, which is always a plus point in my book. Oh Natalie…

And, finally, The Drop.

This drop (unlike the bass or tear variety) has a plot, and that plot is this; Bob Saginowski (Tom Hardy) is a bartender living in Brooklyn who works at a bar called Cousin Marv’s, which is owned by his actual cousin, Cousin Marv (the tragically late James Gandolfini). It’s what known as a “drop bar”; a bar that could be randomly selected by the criminal underworld to use as a kind of overnight safe for all the dodgy cash they’re making. The night after their bar is chosen, Cousin Marv’s is robbed by two masked men, and the gangland money is stolen. The gangsters are, understandably, upset, and make them get it back at any cost. Meanwhile, Bob finds an injured pitbull puppy in a neighbour’s (Noomi Rapace) bin (surely inspired by the tragedy of “cat bin lady”) and tries to look after it while bonding with her.

Unlike The Hunger Games, the thing with The Drop is that it is perhaps a bit too quiet for its own good. While we have a brooding central performance by Tom Hardy, we don’t really have much in the way of action of thriller; it is instead an exploration of one particularly lonely character’s mindset within the murky Brooklyn crime world. James Gandolfini’s Marv perhaps doesn’t resonate as much as he ought to because he’s very similar to what we’ve seen Gandolfini do in the past; admittedly he does it well, but it does feel like he’s coasting, almost, which is a real shame as this is his last performance. There are twists in the tale that perhaps you might see coming, too, but are still entertaining enough to watch.

The surprisingly sweet narrative of a lonely man with a cute, battered puppydog trying to connect with a female neighbour does actually work quite well alongside its occasionally darker aspects, and is one of the film’s strengths. Tom Hardy’s performance, as usual, steals the show here. Perhaps it is adapted from a short story, you can feel it being stretched over the length of the film quite thinly, but it’s not necessarily a bad story; just not a hugely enthralling one either. To say I loved The Drop would be a sort of lie, as I didn’t, but I certainly didn’t hate it either.

Mr. Turner, Ouija, Horns & The Necessary Death of Charlie Countryman – Richards Reckons Reviews

Some paintings, a board, some horns and Romania. Anybody would have thought that’s a blurb of a novel about a Romanian minotaur living in an art gallery trying to make it as a skateboarder, but alas, it is not (I’ll work on that later though as a stocking filler for 2015).

Let’s kick off with Mr. Turner.

While it sounds like the biopic of a substitute maths teacher, it is not; instead, it’s the Mike Leigh directed biopic of J. M. W. Turner, one of Britain’s most prolific painters in the 19th century. Weirdly, the film doesn’t have a plot as such; it simply follows Turner (Timothy Spall) at the height of his career and final 30 years of his life, as well as his relationships with his father (Paul Jesson), his housemaid (Dorothy Atkinson), the aristocracy, the Royal Academy of Art and Mrs Booth (Marion Bailey).

Rather aptly for a film about one of the best painters in British history, the film itself looks beautiful. Each frame is lovingly crafted and carefully coloured much like a painting; it’s no accident that door frames and window frames are used consistently as borders of the shot, like the frames of a painting (how’s that for meta, eh? A film about art, which in itself is art, looks like art). Cinematographer Dick Pope won an award at Cannes for this film and ruddy rightly so too; the shots are so incredibly classy and rich that it feels like you are in a gallery.

The film also has some staggering performances in it, not least by Timothy Spall. He is absolutely phenomenal as Turner; he inhabits a persona of assured arrogance yet vulnerability; a flawed genius dedicated and passionate about his work, and dealing with criticism and praise in various different ways. He behaves somewhat unusually; saying things by snorting and grunting more than with actual words, and varying between confidently striding or meandering through his life; between visiting brothels and the aristocracy. He is by no means a morally absolute protagonist either – he uses and abuses his landlady for sex when he wants to, while she retains adoration for him regardless of this mistreatment. But shades of grey are interesting, and while it isn’t the most overstated performance, it’s sure to win awards and astonish. There are brilliant turns from Marion Bailey too as the lovely Mrs Booth, the lady that Mr Turner decides to live with incognito (although obviously not THAT incognito seeing as the film knows about it… Just sayin’).

A sure awards contender, the script is also wonderfully crafted, with dialogue fresh from the 19th century without it being too dense. However, if I was being especially critical, I would say that it is a bit too long. It can feel somewhat indulgent at times, with scenes that don’t have any overall effect on the narrative lasting for a very long time (the older lady next to me actually kept falling asleep and snoring aloud, only to be jolted awake again by her tutting cinemagoer friend). The skeleton of the film is very good, as are the occasional bits of fat in there, but there is a bit too much narrative fat that can drag it down.

Potent, beautiful and amazingly well performed, Mr Turner won’t be for everybody’s tastes but is a true awards contender and a brilliant if indulgent look at the life of a unique artistic genius.

Speaking of, er, genius (ahem), let’s talk about Ouija.

Ouija is the heartbreaking true story of Dr John Ouija, a man who dedicated his life to finding a cure for children’s illnesses. Only joking, of course it’s not; it’s a horror film about a haunted house, of course! Best buddies Laine (Olivia Cooke) and Debbie (Shelley Hennig) have known each other all their lives, doing the regular girls do, like playing with ouija boards with one another (apparently they’re toys in America, as evidenced by the fact this film is PRODUCED by Hasbro themselves). In the present day, Debbie has been dabbling with the board again and ends up hanging herself with some fairy lights (a criminal waste, in my opinion). Wanting to talk with her, Laine begs her friends and sister to do a ouija board to try to contact Debbie in the afterlife; but, surprise surprise, it’s a terrible idea and awakens all sorts of spirits in the house…

So, yes, this is exactly what it sounds like; a jumpscare fest and nothing more, really. It does the regular checklist of things that modern horror films do; haunted house, basements, JUMPSCARES, attics, dolls, JUMPSCARES, creepy kids, gore, JUMPSCARES, being dragged away by an invisible force, burning ancient objects… did I mention JUMPSCARES? Nothing really resonates with the audience as being truly creepy or disturbing; it’s just a series of jolts (some of which, admittedly, are quite effective – some of which completely are not).

While it’s adequately short at around 90 minutes, parts of it still do feel boring and run of the mill, with scenes in which you can tell that nobody is in danger. You can tell that the actors, while giving it their all, are a bit bored by the whole affair as well and don’t really put too much into it; there’s a real lack of emotion and clarity to a film that involves so many supposed suicides of teenagers. The writing is also pretty poor and the plot convoluted and illogical; with more plot holes than a swiss cheese block that’s been violently attacked with a Black & Decker implement.

All in all, Ouija doesn’t add anything new to the genre unfortunately and serves a poor example of modern, quiet quiet JUMPSCARE horror cinema.

Now it’s time for Daniel Radcliffe getting horny (ROFLMAOLOL) in Horns.

Daniel “Harry Potter” Radcliffe plays a (frankly amazingly named) man called Ig Perrish, a musician from a small town in America. His beautiful girlfriend Merrin (Juno Temple) is horrifically raped and murdered, and Ig is suspect (and therefore public enemy) number 1. During this persecution by the media and townsfolk, he wakes up one day to find horns poking out of his head (don’t you just hate it when that happens?). These horns give him strange powers, such as people revealing every single horrible secret and desire they have to him and the ability to read minds. He uses this ability to try and track down Merrin’s actual killer, clear his name and get revenge.

Horns has been taking a bit of a critical kicking as of late, which I think is slightly undeserved. Horns has its problems of course – one of which is an uneven tone, which swerves between black comedy, sugary romance and full on supernatural and a bit silly. I love it when films contain multiple components and genres, but only when it feels like they gel well; in Horns, however, it feels like they are rustily changing gear rather than smoothly gliding through the scenes like fine narrative silk. There is also the ending, which as well as offering no redemption or explanation for a film that makes you so interested in looking for one, also is silly to ridiculous extremes and almost loses all of its credibility.

Apart from these aspects, though, there is a blackly fun film to be found, with some dark laughs and insight into the dark human condition and its impulses. The performances of Daniel Radcliffe and Juno Temple are particularly fantastic too; with Radcliffe’s accent being flawless and convincing, and his character portraying both desperation to full on badass anger effectively. It’s just a shame that the ending and its tonal confusion is letting it down.

Horns does not deserve the critical kicking it’s getting, as it can be darkly fun in areas, but it is far from perfect. A flawed slice of dark fun.

And finally, it’s time for The Necessary Death of Charlie Countryman (the film, not the absolutely fundamental demise of a man named Charlie Countryman).

So the plot behind this necessary death is this; Charlie Countryman (Shia LaBeouf) witnesses the death of his mother in hospital, and is visited by an apparition of her almost straight away afterwards (convenient, eh?). She tells him to go to Bucharest, because it “sounds specific” (which is, you know, reason enough? I guess?). So he catches a plane to Bucharest and meets a man, who promptly dies next to him. He tracks down her daughter Gabi (Evan Rachel Wood) at the airport, who he almost instantly falls for. But she has a dangerous ex-husband in Nigel (Mads Mikkelsen), who is a real rotter of a man, and does not take too kindly to Charlie intruding into Gabi’s life…

Oh, and also, Rupert Grint and James Buckley turn up too for some acid trip style sequences. Just thought I’d mention it.

I spoke earlier about Horns being a mixed bag, but this is a mixed bag with the strange ramped up to 11. It’s an utterly bizarre dark love story, and while that sounds good in the outset, it isn’t really. It tries to be dark and edgy with its violence but ultimately fails and feels incredibly silly; not even Mads Mikkelsen can bring any sense of being grounded or realistic to the pointlessly violent Nigel character and his endless list of henchmen. Shia LaBeouf apparently was actually on acid in a lot of the scenes where drug trips were required, but it wouldn’t surprise me if he was all the time during the filming of this; he constantly looks doe-eyed and sweaty. That said, his performance could certainly be a lot worse, but unfortunately is not enough to save the film.

There is also the matter of a tacked on subplot involving Rupert Grint and James Buckley’s characters (James Buckley’s is almost a carbon copy of Jay, except not as inherently innocent). While it was an enjoyable aside (and mad to see these three men together in the same film), there is certainly a feeling of “errr… why?” to it all. The surreal nature of the film doesn’t help this either, as it ultimately amounts to a fairly empty and pointless experience.

The subway chase sequence is, however, very good. Seek that out if you can. Lovely use of slow motion. But apart from that, Charlie Countryman is a bizarre movie that feels incredibly flimsy and “for the sake of it”.