A lot has been said about the desensitisation of audiences to gore and horror. In the last decade, our preoccupation with our own desensitisation has been escalated, thanks to a series of ‘gorenography’ films; horror flicks that spend most of their time showing us grisly, disgusting deaths, maiming, and quite often some of the most startlingly repulsive images we’re ever likely to see.
Hannibal Lecter (Silence of the Lambs) – Okay I know! He’s only human but definitely deserves a special mention. In my opinion there is nothing more terrifying than a psychopath criminal who wants to eat you, but somehow looks like the sort of guy your desperately lonely mother would bring home as your ‘new father’. Talk about awkward atmosphere at the dinner table. ‘More liver anyone?’
So, the Narnia saga is set to continue with no particular order, and no-one particularly caring. With the announcement of The Magician’s Nephew, Adam Deane ponders the brief life and extended death of the franchise.
“They encounter a series of haphazard characters, some friendlier than others, but each with a set of psychological issues that remind the audience of the real plight of our protagonists.”
When we think of Paris now, we think of thin women, baguettes and the Eiffel Tower. Rewind several decades to the 1940s and we begin to see it wasn’t all that. From 1946 to 1958, the Fourth Republic of France was in its post-war operation (the Nazis had left and American films were once again allowed to be shown).
“I’m not mad on confident people. I can’t imagine myself ever making the Bon Jovi story.”
This film wants to be as deep as each and every character we encounter
Picture the scene: It’s 10.30pm on a Saturday night and I am surrounded by glitter, false eyelashes and the distinct smell of hairspray; as a marvelously glamorous sequin-clad drag queen takes to the stage, welcomed by the rejoicing roar of an eclectic crowd of bourgeoisie zombies and blood-splattered doctors. One might be excused for assuming that what I am describing is a nightmarish Halloween night on Canal Street, that, however, is not the case.
Taking its inspiration from Marks’ 1996 autobiography of the same name, Mr Nice is unsurprisingly reverential and seems reluctant to ask any real questions of its protagonist. Most crucially, by presenting Marks as ‘Mr Nice’, the film fails to explore the moral dilemma inherent to his profession. Instead, Rose’s script opts for a rather shallow pro-legalisation, pro-Marks stance which ultimately suggests, to quote one glib piece of dialogue, that ‘it’s the law that’s wrong’.
Once upon a time, during my first week of life as a fresher, I was introduced to a film that would remain lodged in my memory for the rest of eternity.
“Snyder’s signature grimy, gothic aesthetic is ever present, as the girls bend time and space to encounter demon samurai, Steampunk-zombie-soldiers, Orcs, dragons, and futuristic alien-robots.”
“Almost everyone (including the men) were wearing corsets or fishnets of some description.”
“While the film is capable of touching moments and can be very comic at times, what really makes it special is the sense of threat that is carried throughout.”
Told from the fourth-wall-breaking-inner-voice of a 15 year old boy whose optimism and enthusiasm toward our simple world is contagious, Submarine will have you laughing from the opening.
“in this film you won’t find a cross-dressing Ken doll, or wise-cracking, leery sidekick”
Using a mix of archive news footage, home movies and Sebastian’s own narration, the film was meant to be a humble and personal portrayal of Columbia’s political history.
In typical Burton style, stripy socks, unnervingly twisted flash-backs, and Helena Bonham Carter are in abundance; (no one could mistake this for any other director), and Tim makes the almost unforgivable mistake of detailing the ending at the start of the film.
Since John Cusack made his name as the face of the 1980s teen rom-com, it is fitting that Grosse Point Blank is, at its heart, a high school movie. Martin Blank, (Cusack), is a hit man facing something of a midlife crisis; he has recurring dreams of his prom night sweetheart; he no longer derives satisfaction from his job; and he’s being pressured to join a union (yes, apparently professional killers have those), led by union chief Dan Aykroyd.