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Series: Vampire Knight – Part 1: Episodes 1-4
Release date: 22nd November 2010
Certificate: 12
Running time: 100 mins
Director: Kiyoko Sayama
Starring: Daisuke Kishio, Mamoru Miyano, Yui Horie, Fumiko Orikasa, Hiroki Yasumoto
Genre: Anime
Studio: Manga
Format: DVD
Country: Japan
The popular Vampire Knight, a shōjo manga and anime series written by Matsuri Hino, premiered in the January 2005 issue of LaLa magazine and is still on-going. The television series was quick to follow, airing in Japan in April 2008, and it is finally released in the UK on DVD this month, beginning with volume one and the first four episodes. So, was it worth the wait?
The earliest thing Yuki remembers is being attacked on a snowy night by a vampire, and being rescued by Kaname, another vampire. Ten years later, still haunted by those memories, Yuki is now the adopted daughter of the headmaster of Cross Academy.
Keeping peace at the academy with her friend Zero, her main duties are to ensure no problems arise between the freshmen that attend Day Class and those that seek out new blood, quite literally, as they vamp it up at Night Class.
Hindered by her hormones, Yuki is soon torn between Kaname, a pureblood who saved her life, and Zero, once bitten by a pureblood, now struggling to halt his slow transformation into the creature he loathes most - a vampire.
Sounds familiar, doesn't it? You could argue that this release is jumping on the Twilight bandwagon, if it wasn't for the fact that it came first. A twisted love triangle then, if ever there wasn't one, and the first volume struggles just as much to deliver a plot as the fore-mentioned slayer of vampire movies.
Yet, it goes one better, because the little storyline on show here is rammed down the viewer's throat so forcibly, time and time again, it's like painting by numbers, with only one colour needed - a very dull grey.
Instead of using the medium it was created for, back-story is created by non-stop dialogue, saving the audience the trouble of thinking. This would be okay, and welcome in parts, if the plot was as audacious as Ghost In The Shell (1995), but, quite frankly, it isn't, and is an embarrassment for all those concerned. Worst of all, Episode four, 'Trigger Of Conviction', dares to include flashbacks, just incase something blatantly obvious was missed. Thanks for that.
So, director Kiyoko Sayama manages with ease the ridiculous feat of making the three protagonists' affections simultaneously obvious; and handling Yuki's discovery of Zero's ailment, supposedly the volume's solitary peak, with clumsy precision. In fact, not one of the three main characters comes away from this scenario with any dignity. Zero, at one stage threatening to do the viewer a favour by blowing his brains out, lacks empathy because he's so miserable; Kaname's obsession with Yuki is never explored, therefore bordering on psychotic; and Yuki's failure to grasp the bigger picture suggests she's a bit stupid.
When Sayama does finally move away from the hideous forbidden-love-that-isn't plot she actually shows some promise. Episode three hints at better things to come when a freaky Gollum-like vampire stalks Yuki in the series' best moments; but, even then, the tension is almost ruined by Yuki talking aloud, realising that this beast must be naughty because it isn't as beautiful as all the other vampires at Night Class.
The goofy humour is enjoyable at first, yet quickly becomes repetitive, insulting the otherwise impressive gothic visuals on offer (a shame more time wasn't spent on the screenplay), while the opening score is almost as long as the episode itself - an intro that offers much but delivers so very little. So very little, in fact, that episode two revolves around the Day Class students offering chocolates to their beloved night-school comrades, blissfully unaware that they are actually vampires - and that's it. Seriously, it would be nice if just one of the students actually questioned a need for Night Class - it's not like they think they're all insomniacs, or something.
You could argue that Vampire Knight sticks faithfully to the manga series, concentrating more on romance rather than action, and while the love triangle is nothing new, especially post-twilight, it does carry with it some potential, certainly pleasing fans of the original material. Having said that, the few moments of real inspiration are pushed to one side, in favour of that romance, so much so that it's questionable whether Sayama will be able to introduce the students of Cross Academy to a wider audience.
While the basic premise of Vampire Knight might sound like a rehash of Twilight, watching it unfold is something else far less exciting; lacking in plot, humour or bite, the only thing on offer here worthy of praise is its short running time. Volume two should never be exposed to daylight. DW
Film: The Karate Kid
Release date: 15th November 2010
Certificate: 12A
Running time: 130 mins
Director: Harald Zwart
Starring: Jaden Smith, Jackie Chan, Taraji P. Henson, Wenwen Han, Rongguang Yu
Genre: Action/Drama/Family/Martial Arts
Studio: Sony
Format: DVD & Blu-ray
Country: USA/China
This is an English-Language release.
It may now be set in China, with an Afro-American child lead, but there are plenty of similarities for nostalgic fans of the original, as The Karate Kid becomes the latest ‘victim’ of the Hollywood reboot.
Dre Parker’s mother shows zero responsibility and care for her child by uprooting him from his home and friends in Detroit, USA and taking him across to Beijing, China, with minimal notice or preparation, for a standard employment opportunity.
Now alone and feeling lost in a foreign land, Dre takes a shine to young Chinese musician Mei Ying, but this does not impress the local kung fu kid, who, displaying superman-esque strength, gives Dre a thorough ass whooping.
With even less friends now, and a mother too busy to spend any time with him let alone address his ill-manners properly, Dre becomes increasingly isolated and depressed, as the bullying continues.
Looking to get his own back on these young brutes only lands Dre in even hotter water, and it’s left to handyman Mr. Han to save him from a precarious situation - by beating up a group of children.
This angers the children’s sensei, and the only way Mr. Han can think of avoiding more blood spill on the streets of Beijing is to enter Dre into an upcoming martial arts competition. Mr. Han will train him, but he has some unusual methods that will test the patience of the already testy Dre…
Of course, a remake, where so much of the original’s story has been retained (bar a completely new country), of such an iconic 80s children’s favourite will struggle for much goodwill amongst fans of the original, but, given its PG-certificate, this is being targeted at a whole new generation, who have likely never seen the original, and will no doubt relate to the petulant Dre character, and be thoroughly engrossed by its flashy, over-the-top fight scenes and loud soundtrack – they don’t need any emotional weight, moral aspect, or character relation. In fact, had they seen the original they’d no doubt find it tame in comparison, where Ralph Macchio in the role of Daniel Larusso was asked to get off his butt and do a bit of work (we’ll get to this later), whilst holding an elderly fellow in reverence as he passed on words of wisdom.
Unfortunately, for an adult viewing, The Karate Kid raises some serious questions mostly about the desensitisation of children today, who are growing up with intense, and at times fairly violent and aggressive video games and television – and nothing else. Here, in one of the film’s earliest scenes, where Dre is first confronted by his nemesis, we have a character presented as demonic, with power and strength well beyond his years, beating seven bells out of a small child with the slightest frame in a fairly graphic and bone crunching manner – this should be terrifying viewing for any child. For any adult, it makes for uncomfortable viewing, because it’s outright wrong (let’s forget all the racial stereotyping in this critique).
We’ll overlook the fact that the film is called Karate Kid, even though nobody is trained in that discipline, and that they’ve set the film in China, when, had they lived up to the film’s billing, Karate originates from Japan. This is being pedantic, and, of course, makes very little difference to the ‘boy trains to beat up bully’ premise. The biggest question has to be why they opted for such a young lead (perhaps not such a big question when you consider his father’s clout within the industry – Will Smith has a production credit here), which not only raises the aforementioned concerns, but takes the film into the realms of extreme fantasy – how does this compute in a child’s mind. In the original, Ralph was a twenty-something playing the role of a 16-year-old. He was at an age where hormones are raging and romantic interests and conflicts are commonplace; he was fighting against fellow older actors of a sizeable stature, in realistic scenarios; and everything was grounded in moral messages that ultimately fighting is wrong. Here we are expected to believe that someone who looks barely 10 is really going to be all that concerned with the fairer sex – let alone displaying the depth of emotional understanding we are shown during many of the film’s laborious moments – and that the bullies of the piece can fly around the screen with the strength to give Jackie Chan of all actors – still in decent shape - a tough time. The only message coming across is violence is good, and forget respecting anyone else – let alone an elder – unless you quite fancy them.
In fairness, Jackie Chan puts in a solid performance – a far better dramatic display than his much-hyped role in The Shinjuku Incident. But again, all the fun has been taken away. Part of the joy of the original was seeing the podgy, diminutive, elder Mr. Miyagi turning out to be an agile martial arts expert, and alongside his principles that vitally grounded the film’s events, he brought a humour to the part that was so enjoyable for a child viewer (he also disposed of these older, larger adversaries quickly – it wouldn’t have been half as cool if he spent half-an-hour knocking about infants). In this film, we have a dark, breakdown scene where Jackie completely loses it and bears his soul. Apparently, we are now expecting children to take on board such heavy issues - and amongst the fierce carnage that would leave any fully developed mind a little rattled.
As mentioned at the start of this review, fans of the original are going to pick holes, particularly in the initial training, where instead of the pupil being asked to clean and polish his trainer’s car (the infamous wax on, wax off scenes) and paint his fence - and the subsequent joyful enlightenment for both the viewer and the character when the big reveal shows all these menial tasks were actually grounding him in the basics of good karate skills - here the writers thought it would be enough to have him just hang his coat up, put it down, drop it on the floor, on repeat, for what seemed like an eternity. This is before it goes completely over-the-top as he quickly becomes the new Bruce Lee, if compensated for by some spectacular scenery.
That brings us to the running time. Unfortunately, the filmmakers got sidetracked with an unnecessaryily long romantic sub plot, which adds nothing – it certainly won’t impress child viewers where the thought of making out repulses, and who are waiting for their next fix of CGI enhanced kick ass, and neither Jaden Smith in the role of Dre or Wenwen Han in the role of Mei Ying have the acting chops to pull it off. In fact, the only commendable aspect of Jaden’s performance is in his physicality, although it’s uneasy that a child actor so young would be expected to develop in such a way – yet another unhealthy message for its target audience. Also clocking up the minutes is the big ‘visit China’ sell – all the key visitor attractions are enhanced and displayed on the grandest of scales. Whilst it may have helped with the production costs, and no doubt younger viewers will be in awe, it hampers progress of what, ignoring the moral concerns any right minded adult would have watching, is a decent, standard, big budget Hollywood action flick.
There’s nothing here for adults, the characters are too young for older teenagers, who have progressed to blowing people up on X-Box for their amusement, so this is definitely targeted at young children. Given its PG-rating, the choice should (although probably not) be with the parents as to whether they feel their child is ready to be exposed to such levels of emotional and physical distress – if they haven’t been already.
Kids today will lap it up. Fresh from smashing someone through a wall on their latest video game, they can now watch an actual person do it. For fans of the original, all the basic story elements are in place, it just lacks any of that film’s warmth, humour or soul. However, the biggest crime is the complete lack of responsibility Hollywood has again shown as those involved focus solely on boosting their bank balances. DH
Film: Barfuss
Release date: 13th October 2005
Certificate: 15
Running time: 118 mins
Director: Til Schweiger
Starring: Til Schweiger, Johanna Wokalek, Nadja Tiller, Michael Mendl, Steffen Wink
Genre: Comedy/Drama/Romance
Studio: Touchstone
Format: DVD
Country: Germany
“All you need is love.” opined the Beatles with tuneful utopianism. Sadly, where the rom-com is concerned, that’s not quite enough for cinemagoers; who expect their heartstrings to be tactically tugged, a generous dose of mirth, and a palatable serving of sweet and sour sentiment before reaching an amorous payoff. German actor-director Til Schweiger (recognisable to English audiences as Sergeant Stiglitz from Inglorious Basterds) stars in and helms this 2005 effort, casting himself as half of a decidedly odd couple. Schweiger’s often blackly comic tale accents a typically saccharine format with despair, as his derelict romantics brave depression and stuffy orthodoxy.
Hard drinkin’ womanisin’ ne’r do well Nick Keller – repeatedly dismissed for his anti-authoritarian quirks – is desperate for a job. So desperate that he’ll do anything for an honest Euro, and eagerly accepts a new assignment.
Arriving for his first day dressed to the nines, Nick’s determined to make good – but is aghast to learn that he’s a floor-scrubbing dogsbody, mopping the wards at a mental hospital.
With auto-destructive flair, he quickly arouses the boss’s ire and is sacked – but not before earning a measure of redemption. Voyeuristically espying a patient attempting suicide, he chivalrously intervenes, saving her. This quirky damsel, Leila, forms an unlikely bond with her slacker prince and, with naïf guile, escapes from the hospital, stalking her crush home. Stupefied, Keller threatens to turn her in. But Leila cannily plays the ace of all guilt cards, threatening suicide – forcing Nick to grudgingly offer her sanctuary on his sofa.
The mismatched pair kindle an unlikely (yet eminently predictable) affection, as Keller uses Leila as a pretend girlfriend to impress his affluent parents. His brother is due to get married, at a ceremony which his folks – in chilling corporate-speak – characterise as a “merger.” Nick’s presence is mandatory.
Setting out on a trans-Germanic road trip, fact and fantasy begin to blur as awkward rapport yields to tenderness. But, with the authorities in hot pursuit, no money and a buffet-full of fusty bourgeois obstructing their happiness – bliss is far from assured for these outlaws of lurve…
From the moment our two beauteous protagonists are introduced, it’s evident that the two are fated to intertwine. Both are unfeasibly attractive; adorably moulded, as only silver screen dropouts are. Beautiful losers. Her: sullen, kooky cutie confined to a mental hospital. Him: chiselled, middle class black sheep on the slide. As the narrative intercuts between them and a tepid, MOR instrumental jangles from the soundtrack, the trajectory of the film is preordained. Déjà vu instantaneously ensues.
Barfuss (translated as Barefoot) has been construed as a fable, or fairytale by some; but this merely disguises its innate conservatism. If it possesses any ‘mythic’ resonance, this derives from its slavish adherence to a succession of flaccid Hollywood tropes. The film is certainly accessible; but what may be considered ‘universalism’, from an Anglocentric perspective, merely reflects its similarity to mainstream US product. Dialect aside, there is little here which appears exotic, modernist or distinct. It’s all discomfortingly familiar – a Germanic cultural ventriloquism that just about gratifies our cinema-schooled expectations. The antagonising forces, like the heroes, bear the hallmarks of faded melodrama. Love must combat those timeless, implacable foes: money, authority, outrageous circumstance, patriarchy and tradition.
Despite a smattering of darkly comic wit, gags are often inane, and frequently repetitious. An early scene – in which Leila is mistaken for a prostitute and asked to gratify a leering punter – is an unsettlingly risqué, cruel extension of the ‘fish out of water’ conceit. The tone rapidly brightens thereafter, however, as narrative shifts gear into road-movie mode. Leila’s social ineptitude primes a comedy of errors that simultaneously humiliates Keller, and comically emphasises her outsider status. Watch as Leila walks into the men’s toilet; fumbles with her fork; tells Nick’s stepdad he thinks he’s an old fart, etc. These successive faux pas elicit an embarrassing pathos, as she blunders, childlike, through bourgeois mores. Regrettably, they often feel like a cheap contrivance – frequently provoked by Nick abandoning his charge, with the request that she “stay put for a minute.” She never does.
The film’s cursory rendering of institutional captivity provides a sombre backdrop to Leila’s fragile, photogenic solipsism; but little more. Dido’s presence on the soundtrack consolidates this mood; a maudlin, unrequited melancholy. Predictably, Leila’s former symptoms diminish as her malaise is transferred to a near fatal case of love sickness. Whilst spirited and not without intuitive guile, salvation is thus placed beyond her control. ‘Love’ disenfranchises Leila, rendering the character increasingly dependent on her reformed lothario. Though rewarded with optimism and confidence, she is later diminished to a blubbing, fatalistic damsel awaiting deliverance. Preferable to suicide; but hardly a feminist role model. Love may be the ultimate placebo, but it can only be administered by our hero, Nick the hesitant.
One notable aspect in which the film eschews convention is an almost total absence of...well, the rom in the com. Our characters never kiss; their love is discussed, but the concept never consummated. This curiously chaste, abstract idyll is necessary to prevent tarnishing Nick. Though his stud status is inferred from the outset, Nick’s affection towards Leila is often paternal. An ambiguous romancer-guardian, and clearly the authoritative partner, he acts in a playful, platonic manner, but never interacts with Leila erotically. She, too, is denied a sexual identity – thus assuming an almost childlike unknowing Nick never threatens to rupture. Schweiger plays safe in avoiding the messy complexities this might elicit; instead turning his romance into a perversely pure tale of self denying devotion.
Leila’s habit of walking barefoot (hence the film’s title) can be considered as a crude metaphor for her refusal of constraint and convention. Paradoxically, the movie is overly encumbered by a set of generic binds that warp its early promise. Though it takes superficial pops at profiteering, corporate fat-cats, Barfuss’ bland pleasures embody the machinations of those myopic suits it purports to satirise. Sadly, the results are anodyne and frustratingly tame. Endurable in-flight entertainment. Just. DJO
Film: Ong Bak Trilogy
Release date: 11th October 2010
Certificate: 18
Running time: 312 mins
Director: Prachya Pinkaew, Tony Jaa, Panom Yeerum & Panna Rittikrai
Starring: Tony Jaa, Supakorn Kitsuwon, Dan Chupong, Sarunyu Wongkrachang, Petchtai Wongkamlao
Genre: Action/Adventure/Crime/Fantasy/Martial Arts/Thriller
Studio: Optimum
Format: DVD
Country: Thailand
Not since 1991 and Jet Li’s Once Upon A Time In China has a martial artist broke through with the sort of critical and public appreciation that Panom Yeerum enjoyed with his debut Ong-Bak. Although now known as Tony Jaa, to better associate himself with international audiences, the Muay Thai and Tae Kwon Do specialist went on to produce two more Ong Bak features. No-nonsense, action films that attempted to make his name synonymous with the likes of Bruce Lee and Jackie Chan - the influential kung fu stars he grew up admiring.
Ong-Bak (2003)
As Ting (Tony Jaa) proves himself as the best athlete and martial artist in the reclusive village of Ban Nong Pradu, Thailand, a gang from Bangkok arrive wishing to purchase the sacred Buddha icon (named Ong-Bak) that the village has possession of. When the villagers refuse, claiming the statue is worth more to them than any monetary value, the gang steal the artefact in the dead of night, leaving Ting as the best possible means of reclaiming it.
Sent into the country’s capital, Ting finds himself awed by the concrete jungle and the attitude of the cities inhabitants, in particular that of his cousin Humlae. Humlae, once belonging to the village has dyed his hair blonde and, with his female friend Muay Lek, has fallen in with a bad crowd of drug dealers, street gangs and illegal betting dens.
Upon discovering that the Ong-Bak statue is now in possession of a crime lord, Ting and his two new friends must enter the dangerous realm of the kingpin’s underground fighting den to earn the chance to win back the village’s prize possession…
An unabashed action fest, director Prachya Pinkaew shoots a grim, sepia-toned tale that while not necessarily unique in the plot - designed to set up the action, and aimed specifically to impress the viewer with the style and prowess of Jaa’s Muay Thai skills. The direction is impressive and belies the relative cinematic inexperience of Pinkaew as he smoothly cuts the high-octane carnage together. Doing so in an immensely slick manner, without over loading the viewer with strobe-like interchanges of camera angles, Pinkaew always manages to keep choreographic perspective, meaning the audience can follow and enjoy the martial arts sequences, which is paramount in a film of this genre.
However, the competent direction and actually engaging storyline aside, it would be naïve not to think of this an immense juggernaut of a vehicle for Jaa’s ability, who co-choreographed the action. Tony Jaa undertakes all the stunt work himself throughout the film, as all self-respecting martial artists do, but what sets Ong-Bak apart from its contemporaries is the wireless ‘high wire’ acts. That is to say Tony Jaa pulls off some remarkable moments, from flying knees to the face to running across the shoulders of countless henchmen, without any assistance - putting his body on the line with every stunt.
It is this raw unadulterated feeling of danger and authenticity that makes Ong-Bak such an entertaining rollercoaster ride. Not simply this, but with other prominent martial artists like Jet Li and Jackie Chan having migrated to Hollywood, Jaa gives this genre’s enthusiasts a new hero to champion.
Ong Bak 2: The Beginning (2008)
Initially suspected as being a sequel, it was announced Ong Bak 2 was not simply a prequel to Ong-Bak, but to be set five centuries previous. Set as an historical epic with an injection of fantasy, Tony Jaa plays Tien, the energetic and enthusiastic son of a noble lord and warrior.
Despite desperately wishing to emulate his father, he finds his natural unyielding spirit curbed - instead of being taught martial arts, he is unwillingly forced to learn dance. However, his life is thrown into ruins as a treacherous warlord, who is seeking to enthral all of Asia under his tyrannical rule, sends assassins to massacre his rivals.
Escaping the bloodshed with a desire for revenge burning deep in his heart, Tien, while searching for his persecutors, is captured by slave traders. After punishment from his captors, which includes an encounter with an oversized crocodile, Tien is rescued by a group of outlaws who promise to train him in the ways of various martial arts from across the Asian continent so that he may exact his revenge on the despotic lord…
Unlike with the initial instalment, the story reneges on its gritty realism for a showy troupe into the annals of Thai history. Tony Jaa, not content with being the film’s acting protagonist takes the helm behind the camera, and perhaps this can be attributed to some of the misgivings the viewer may have while watching this peculiar numerical sequel and historical prequel.
For all his capabilities as a martial artist, his qualities as an actor are still questionable, and it seems as if the director is aware of this fact. The dialogue in Ong Bak 2 is notably absent, and, as a result, it makes it a difficult task to further the plot, but, more importantly, difficult to associate with what little development Tien goes through. It is also worth noting that any ‘development’ is undertaken by the actor playing Tien’s younger self, as opposed to Mr. Jaa himself. With such limited dedication to character, it makes the revenge saga seem unfortunately contrived, leaving the viewer mentally tuning out, simply awaiting the next action sequence.
Accompanying Tony Jaa in the co-directors chair is the co-choreographer from the first Ong-Bak film, so it is unsurprising that a film with such little verbal communication finds its efforts focused on some impressive martial arts sequences. As always, Tony Jaa is exceptional in his leading role as a glorified stunt actor, and the addition of more varied fighting styles and weaponry from across Asia creates more diversity and, in places, more excitement than its predecessor.
While Ong Bak 2 is a technically superb in its fighting creativity, undoubtedly from the co-directors’ dedication to their martially artistic passion, it suffers from a severe lack of attention and disregard to something as integral as character development. Ong Bak 2, unfortunately, proves to be less of a film than its forerunner, and more of an exercise in ‘showing off’ Tony Jaa’s undeniable talent.
Ong Bak 3 (2010)
Following immediately from the conclusion of the previous instalment, Ong Bak 3 starts with a captured Tien being tortured and beaten by his captives. The imprisonment is brutal as he is struck repeatedly with kendo sticks and choked with bamboo, on top of a plethora of human physical abuse.
To prevent any further attempts at escape, the bones in his arms and legs are broken, and he is prepared for execution by Lord Rajasena, the man responsible for his family’s death. However, Rajasena is experiencing his own problems, and disposing of Tien is proving to be the least of his worries. It transpires a curse has been placed upon the king, and he must call upon the dark powers of the shaman Crow Ghost to aid him.
However, the Crow Ghost himself has his own motives for abetting the king, while Tien, in his continuing goal to seek revenge for the death of his father, finds his fate increasingly linked to the carved sculpture of an Ong-Bak head…
The issues from which the second film suffered are only exacerbated in the concluding instalment. While it would be amusing to entertain the prospect that individuals watched Tony Jaa films for award-winning scriptwriting, the increasingly disconnected nature of the story, and undeniable lack of cohesion and conclusion in the plot’s progression is alarming. The introduction of irrelevant characters and some questionable plot devices, which are highly ill designed, can only be endemic of the increasingly isolated control of the film’s production, directing and writing Tony Jaa and Panna Rittikrai are enjoying.
What proves to be the film’s downfall is that which you normally expect to be the saving grace of a Tony Jaa film: the action is bizarrely lacking. Jaa himself doesn’t feature in any combative form until deep into the film, leaving the action burden to be entirely shouldered by an amicable Dan Chupong, who does well to cover in Jaa’s absence - but his is not the name that headlines the poster.
Tony Jaa was reported as having severe mental and financial issues during and after the filming of Ong Bak 2, and the problems seem to have affected him in quite a noticeable way. His usual trademark death-defying, highflying sequences are disappointingly absent, and it wouldn’t be overly critical to state that there isn’t a single jaw-dropping exchange in the entire film. The choreography in the wider scheme of things isn’t terrible, but in the context of it being a Tony Jaa film, it comes across as being simple, repetitive and lamentably mediocre.
Ong Bak 3 just about concludes this two-part saga in a way that is befitting with the overall vibe of Tony Jaa’s work, even if there is a slight disturbing feeling that this was created to recoup previous costs, more than create a climax.
Given Tony Jaa has recently joined a Buddhist Temple to live the life of monkhood, this film may be the last, for a while, in which you’ll be able to view his martial artistry – unfortunately, it doesn’t leave viewers eager for a possible return to filmmaking.
The Ong Bak Trilogy is less a collection of winding plot twists and intense character relations and more of a rollicking compilation of Muay Thai, weaponry and moments of wireless breathtaking. While the quality of the cinematic work decreases the further into the trilogy we venture, there are still plenty of thrills, spills, bone-crunching and blood-spilling to intrigue the most ardent martial artist aficionado. When Jaa fails it only infuriates because he is so talented. BL
Film: Wild Grass
Release date: 8th November 2010
Certificate: 12
Running time: 105 mins
Director: Alain Resnais
Starring: Sabine Azéma, André Dussollier, Anne Consigny, Mathieu Amalric
Genre: Drama/Romance
Studio: New Wave
Format: DVD
Country: France/Italy
As Alain Resnais ages so do his regular cast members. Here, Sabine Azéma and Andre Dussollier reprise their familiar roles in the most recent of the octogenarian filmmaker’s offbeat romances. Based on Christian Gailly's novel L'Incident, the film focuses on the aftermath of a seemingly innocuous incident.
While shopping in Paris, Marguerite Muir (Azéma) has her handbag snatched by a rollerblading mugger. Georges Palet (Dussollier) subsequently finds her discarded purse and develops an inexplicably intense interest in her photographic ID and pilot’s licence. This leads to a series of one-sided phone calls and letters – straightforward but motiveless stalking, to all intents and purposes.
George’s intentions are never fully (or even partially explained), and there is something disconcertingly sinister about his obsession with the frizzy haired Marguerite – not least when he slashes her car tyres. Perhaps even more difficult to understand is why Marguerite suddenly becomes interested in her pursuer...
It’s an oddity of a film, even by Resnais’ opaque standards. The voiceover which narrates proceedings is lifted directly from the novel upon which the movie is based and is faithful to the original text, yet it reveals very little and poses more questions than it answers.
The character of Georges is deliberately mysterious – hardly an original concept – yet he is so enigmatic as to be frustrating. Occasional glimpses of murderous intent and his suspicion of those in uniform and their reciprocal distaste for him hint at a criminal past. But equally he could just be a bored fantasist with a runaway imagination. Refusing to divulge this information gives the film an ambiguity which makes it difficult to invest much in its central character – a flaw which could have been remedied if Marguerite was fleshed out more fully.
The stalked female lead is played with familiar skittishness by Azéma in a style well-known to those who’ve seen her previous performances in Resnais’ films. Sadly, the sketchy characterisation and baffling interest in her middle-aged pursuer make it difficult to warm to her. Even her kookily frizzy red hair seems like an affectation too far.
Despite the character flaws, it’s a stylish piece of work. The whimsical opening as Marguerite shops for shoes is wonderfully shot, with her face never revealed (just that hair!) even as she sees her handbag waving in the wind as it is snatched. It’s a stunning camera shot – a justifiable use of slow-motion and vividly contrasting colours.
Indeed, the film is full of colour, from Marguerite’s neon-lit apartment and gaudy yellow car to George’s lush green grass. The sets are as lavish as the characters are sparse and often shot in pastel-hued soft focus – even the turquoise desk at police HQ disappears into the fuzzy distance as Marguerite inquires after her pursuer.
Georges’ lawn is not the only grass which features in the film. Opening with tufts of greenery pointing through a cracked footpath, the action is interspersed with images of wild grass throughout. It’s difficult to say which of these represents Georges most accurately – does his well tended garden hint at the order he craves whilst being tempted to the wilder side of the untamed wild grass? Or has he arrived at order in his home life having eschewed the ‘wild’ side. Again, the movie’s ambiguity prevents an easy answer being reached.
If anything the film becomes less linear as it reaches its conclusion. Scenes which are presumably hypothetical are played out in the imaginations of the characters – these scenes within scenes occur in ‘thought bubbles’ which recall Resnais’ earlier film I Want To Go Home. A confusingly edited scene between Georges and two policemen descends into incomprehensibility as lines are repeated, and unusual cuts and zooms are employed to destroy any sense of conversation or convention.
The ending of the film is unsatisfying, but predictably so. After posing so many unanswered questions during the course of Wild Grass there was no way Resnais would cap it off with a conventional climax.
Wild Grass is lovely to look at but difficult to love. Resnais can be infuriatingly flippant, and here his stylistic quirks and tricks are not strong enough to carry the interest of the viewer from start to finish. A film requires characters and/or a plot strong enough to sustain the audience’s interest. Here, Resnais provides neither, and, as such, the film is a triumph of style over substance. RW
Film: True Legend
Release date: 25th October 2010
Certificate: 15
Running time: 115 mins
Director: Yuen Woo-ping
Starring: Chiu Man-cheuk, Zhou Xun, Michelle Yeoh, Feng Xiaogang, Andy On
Genre: Action/Drama/History/Martial Arts
Studio: Optimum
Format: DVD & Blu-ray
Country: China
Considering some of the classic films Yuen Woo-ping has made over the years, and the sudden and bizarre death of David Carradine following his role in the film, the box office failure of martial arts film True Legend would have come as something of a surprise. Now that the film seems to have signalled something of a resurrection in the career of Vincent Zhao, Woo-ping will be hoping that the film can prove more successful on its DVD release.
True Legend tells the story of Su Can (Zhao), a general of the Qing Dynasty who leads a military group to save their prince from death at the hands of his enemies. To show his gratitude, the prince offers to make Su Can Governor of Hu Bei. Su, however, refuses, saying that he would prefer to live peacefully with his wife and start a family, suggesting instead that his brother in law Yuan Lie (Andy On) be made governor.
Years later, Yuan returns to their home, kills Su Can’s father who has raised him as his own, and kidnaps his sister, Su’s wife Ying (Zhou Xun) and their son, Feng. Su battles with Yuan, but is not strong enough to compete with his new Five Venom Fist technique, and is thrown into a river and left for dead.
When he eventually recovers, he and Ying, who leapt into the river after him, realise that if they ever want to see their son again, Su must train harder than ever and become strong enough to defeat his former friend…
There is a lot to like about the premise of True Legend, featuring as it does many of the ingredients of a classic martial arts film. Yuan’s increased skill upon his homecoming has suggestions of the student out-learning the master; Su Can’s thirst for revenge fits well with the genre’s recent penchant for vengeance films; and the idea of a friend and brother turned bitter enemy seems to never grow old. However, with its Freudian overtones and questions of morality, True Legend seems to bring more ingredients to the recipe than many other similar films. Unfortunately, while these elements are brought up, they are rarely elaborated on, and fade away in favour of a new fight scene, which can prove irritating, at times - just when the story is beginning to become interesting, it veers off in another direction.
The most glaring example of the film’s poor structure is that it reaches its logical and highly effective conclusion while there is still half an hour left, meaning almost a third of it seems as though it has been stuck on to make up screen time. If more time had been taken in looking at the emotional and physical journey undergone by Su Can, in order to reach the climactic battle with Yuan, then the film could have been far more powerful.
Visually, True Legend could best be described as inconsistent. While Woo-ping does make good use of some glorious scenery, the film’s CGI looks cheap and laughably unrealistic. During fight scenes, the editing is jerky and annoying, which is surprising as the rest of the film is fairly polished visually. The fight scenes are difficult to assess, as they do provide some exciting, fast-paced action, yet are not as artistically innovative as the director clearly intends. Woo-ping has clearly been influenced by the gravity defying action of recent successful martial arts films, but while he aims for Crouching Tiger, it comes out looking more Mortal Kombat. This needn’t necessarily have been a bad thing - as the fight sequences are intense and violent - if Woo-ping had kept the action rooted in a more realistic format.
The standard of the fight scenes, and indeed much of the film, is raised considerably by the performances of the two male leads. As Su Can, Vincent Zhao brings emotion, heartache and a real sense of physical prowess to the role. He does an excellent job of displaying the conflicted nature of Su Can’s character, making him believable both as the decorated military leader he begins as, and the pathetic drunk he eventually becomes. Andy On, too, deserves high praise for his portrayal of Yuan Lie, providing a genuinely threatening and disturbing villain, even if he does look a bit like the grim reaper from Bill & Ted’s Bogus Journey. Indeed, at times, the performances of both men are so good that they seem out of place amongst all the silliness that is going on around them - this surely is an indication that, with a little more careful plotting and less extravagant ideas, True Legend could have been a far better film.
A frustrating film that never quite becomes as ridiculous as it sometimes threatens, but fails to deliver the promise that its strong cast and interesting premise provide. True Legend is an enjoyable enough watch, but fails to join the ranks of the genre’s recent classics. PK
Film: The Concert
Release date: 8th November 2010
Certificate: 15
Running time: 122 mins
Director: Radu Mihaileanu
Starring: Aleksei Guskov, Dimitri Nazarov, Melanie Laurent, François Berleand, Miou-Miou
Genre: Drama/Comedy
Studio: Optimum
Format: DVD
Country: France
Four years after the internationally acclaimed Live And Become, Radu Mihaileanu attempts to hit a lighter note with comedy-drama The Concert, staring French actress Mélanie Laurent. A story of redemption, can Mihaileanu’s colourful cast walk the line between the melancholic and the jocular?
The Concert, above all else, is a story of the underdog. Aleksei Guskov stars as Alexei Filipov, who works as a cleaner at the Théâtre du Châtelet in Paris. But he used to be something much more. His turmoil dates back thirty years, when, as the conductor of the legendary Bolshoi, he refused to omit Jewish musicians from his world-famous orchestra. He never conducted again.
In his disgrace, and, at times, spiralling alcoholism, Alexei and wife Irina dream of a house in the country, working with obsessive devotion to attain these far-fetched desires.
The film picks up on the day Alexei discovers a fax on his boss’ computer inviting the Bolshoi to play a concerto in Paris. Destroying any evidence of the fax, Alexei embarks on an ambitious plan to reunite his orchestra, and conduct the concerto himself.
Joined by charismatic sidekick Sacha (Dimitri Nazarov), Alexei finds many of his former musicians are now deadbeat drunks, but nonetheless endeavours to deliver a one-off ground-breaking performance which will finally allow him to let go of his bitter-sweet past…
The film endeavours, at first, to introduce its audience to some familiar stereotypes within the comedy genre. With some sassy screenplay, and intricate script work that swiftly demonstrates the archetypal character traits, we meet Alexei, the regretful but likeable failed conductor, and Irina – devoted, and passionate, someone Alexei can rely on to push him into the background and conduct his rants for him.
In next to no time Sacha, the yang to Alexei’s ying, presents himself as the discerning best friend who ridicules Alexei’s plans but goes along for the ride. Plump, hearty, never far from losing his temper, Sacha, on more than one occasion, steals the show, largely due to the talents of actor Dimitry Nazarov.
It is also not long before we meet Anne-Marie Jacquet (played earnestly by Mélanie Laurent, who recently shot to fame with her role in Inglourious Basterds), a young prodigy with supreme talents on the violin, who brings a fresh face to the marketing behind the concerto. At the helm of the marketing campaign lies Olivier Morne Duplessis, manager of the Théâtre du Châtelet – typically arrogant and self-assured in order to hide the fact the theatre may be going under.
Despite some promising moments of humour, particularly when the film looks for subtler laughs, The Concert is often over-reliant on more chaotic moments of comedy, a number of which are so unfathomable that it prevents the intended reaction. A shootout at a wedding early on in the film borders on the ridiculous, and is only saved by the conversation between events promoter Ivan and world-class cellist Pyotr Tretiakin, as they agree a deal whilst avoiding gunfire.
In terms of cinematography and construction of mise-en-scène, Mihaileanu, with assistance from cinematographer Laurent Dailland, saves the best until last. Although consistent throughout, it is Alexei’s concerto that brings a third dimension to Mihaileanu’s work. In the moments leading up to the main event, with more pace and fluidity than earlier scenes, the audience witnesses the impending chaos backstage and the overriding nerves on stage, creating an air of anticipation as well as dread for what will happen next.
Another area that the film does excel is in its soundtrack. Radu Mihaileanu utilises the works of Mozart, Tchaikovsky and others to convey emotion from his characters and audience alike. Music plays a central role in this film, and Mihaileanu manages to manipulate the soundtrack, building toward crescendos for important scenes, and he even manages to generate slapstick humour without the music’s epic nature ever feeling misplaced. During the concerto itself, a moving piece of music compounds the final revelation, but perhaps fails to conceal the sad truth that the final twist is neither believable nor anything to write home about.
Although everything is left resolved within the film, The Concerto is perhaps guilty of a failure to commit to comedy or drama. What results is a slightly confused atmosphere throughout, where the audience is unsure whether to laugh or cry. What strikes the most, despite characters played with warmth and gusto, is that the funny moments are not scripted to perfection and thus suffer from bad timing, and the dramatic moments fail to evoke the desired emotion. MC
Film: Room In Rome
Release date: 18th October 2010
Certificate: 18
Running time: 103 mins
Director: Julio Medem
Starring: Elena Anaya, Natasha Yarovenko, Enrico Lo Verso, Najwa Nimri
Genre: Drama/Erotica
Studio: Optimum
Format: DVD
Country: Spain
This is an English-Language release.
Perhaps best known for Lovers Of The Arctic Circle (1998) and Sex And Lucia (2001), Basque director Julio Medem clearly has an abiding interest in love and sex. His latest film, Room In Rome, continues the theme, only this time he has chosen to focus on a lesbian one-night stand that takes place in a hotel room in Rome.
Room In Rome opens with Alba (Elena Anaya) and Natasha (Natasha Yarovenko) on a deserted street outside a hotel in Rome late at night, as seen from the balcony of Alba’s room. It is clear there is a strong, if slightly awkward attraction between the two women, and Alba persuades an initially hesitant Natasha to join her up in her room - even though they have only just met that evening, and Natasha makes it clear that she’s never been with a woman before.
Once in the room, they shed their clothes quickly – they remain off for most of the film - but then Alba falls asleep and Natasha decides to leave, only to return again shortly afterwards when she realises that she has left her mobile phone in Alba’s room.
What follows is prime art house erotica, coupled with Alba and Natasha sharing stories about their lives - some of them true and others fabricated or with details of their lives swapped around. We learn that Alba recently lost one of her children, and is an eco-aware Spanish engineer who is in a relationship with a Basque woman, and that Natasha, a professional Russian tennis player, is engaged to a man who was previously in a relationship with her sister.
Eventually, after much physical and emotional drama in the bedroom and the bathroom, Alba and Natasha discuss what it might be like to remain together, before parting ways…
Though it has been described as a remake of Chilean director Matias Bize’s 2005 film En La Cama, Room In Rome obviously has a very different dynamic in that it is about two women, rather than a man and a woman. However unusual this may be, there are several aspects of the film that are disappointingly predictable.
As characters, Alba and Natasha simply aren’t that believable, and never really come to life. It probably has a lot to do with the dialogue (mostly spoken in English, but with brief smatterings of Spanish, Russian, Italian and Basque), which often sounds stilted and lazily written - both characters often come across as little more than art house lesbian fantasy caricatures. In short, Medem, who also wrote the screenplay, has taken one impishly beautiful Spaniard with a complicated past, one strikingly beautiful blonde Russian with a complicated past and thrown them together in a lavish hotel room complete with soft lighting and old art.
The sex is not particularly convincing either, mainly since Medem seems to have focused almost exclusively on making it look picturesque. There is very little sense of intensity or passion, just one carefully choreographed, artfully lit set-piece after another.
Worse still, there is one laughably pretentious scene in the bathroom that tips Room In Rome over the edge into unintentional farce: a scene in which an arrow pierces Alba’s heart while she and Natasha are writhing around in the bath together. Cue much blood in the bath water, a dementedly giggling cherub dancing on the ceiling and…oh, wait, it was just an overblown flight of the imagination, a jolt of symbolic drivel. And the bit about the cherub dancing on the ceiling isn’t true, strictly speaking, though earlier in the film there are shots of painted cherubs aiming arrows from the bedroom ceiling.
It’s not all bad, though, and Jocelyn Pook’s beautiful soundtrack helps to prevent Room In Rome from lapsing into utter tedium. Similarly, Russian Red’s hauntingly simple song ‘Loving Strangers’, though overused, adds a sense of poignancy.
As far as the performances of Elena Anaya and Natasha Yarovenko are concerned, both fare reasonably well considering the ponderous dialogue they had to work with, but whatever chemistry there is between the two is hampered by an overwhelming sense that it was contrived by a male would-be auteur who is more interested in surfaces than substance.
There’s no doubt that Room In Rome will attain a certain cultish appeal as a result of its meticulously styled lesbian carnal activity, but its dramatic qualities are mediocre, at best, and its unlikely to add anything to Julio Medem’s reputation as an ambitious filmmaker. JG
Film: Velvet Revolution
Release date: 1st November 2010
Certificate: 15
Running time: 111 mins
Director: Oleg Stepchenko
Starring: Alexey A. Petrukhin, Aleksey Kravchenko, Aleksandr Karpov, Oleg Taktarov, Michael Madsen
Genre: Action/Crime/Drama
Studio: Scanbox
Format: DVD
Country: Russia
Fledgling Russian director Stepchenko tackled that ‘difficult second movie’ phase with this frenetic crime film. Delving deep into the soviet drug trade, his film is a curious mix of action and film noir.
Major Vershinin is a cop dedicated to toppling the crime in his district. A loose cannon with a dark past, he focuses all his energies on the capture of two mob lieutenants, Pike and Rock.
After a botched operation at an American football game, Vershinin begins to doubt his own capabilities, and suspects someone has been plotting against him - every step of the way.
Vershinin must contend with a drug addled wife and his daughter’s hedonistic lifestyle, while at the same time attempting to thwart the plans of crime kingpin Kurkov and his dealings with an American drug lord and a mysterious benefactor. He must do this under the watchful eye of Suvorovtsev, a new partner assigned to keep him in check...
Michael Madsen used to be a big pull back when the memories of psychopathic killer Mr. Blonde (Reservoir Dogs) were still fresh in the collective film going mind. Now his presence on the cast list of any film usually indicates a production lacking in quality. This may seem like unfair stereotyping of a jobbing actor, but, sure enough, Velvet Revolution starts off with a short cameo from Madsen and from then on, it’s all downhill.
Attention deficit editing makes the films opening act nigh on unbearable for anyone wanting any semblance of story or character introduction. Stepchenko bombards us with firecracker imagery and lightning fast location changes handled with all the finesse of a golf club to the head (which may or may not happen in the film’s opening moments, it all depends on your ability to not blink).
The film slows down a bit as we are introduced to Vershinin, who is played with little subtlety by Aleksey Kravchenko. This is a considerable shame because it is Kravchenko who so impressed in the 1985 masterpiece Come And See - here he uncomfortably spits out samples of the hackneyed script and makes an occasional stab at playful comedy.
Velvet Revolution’s key failing is its confused identity. Vershinin’s world-weary narration and troubled family life have an air of noir-ish cop drama, while interludes of playful bickering between himself and Suvorovtsev suggest a buddy comedy. As the confused story draws on, we enter Bond-style action territory, complete with nefarious evil schemes and overblown action set pieces. It’s difficult to pin down the film’s motives, as most of the time it doesn’t seem to have any.
The cast are patchy across the board, with Kravchenko giving a confused central performance replete with forced emotional outbursts and posturing. Alexey Petruhkin is a bit more engaging, perhaps because the script requires nothing more from him than stoicism. Anna Chipovskaya and Viktoriya Tolstoganova are good value as Vershinin’s misanthropic daughter and junkie wife respectively, but they aren’t given enough screen time to make enough of an impact.
Action fans won’t be disappointed; explosions come thick and fast and serve to break the monotony. A skirmish in an underground drug lab is one particular highlight, which manages to throw an awkward phone conversation and a couple of chickens into the fray. It seems Stepchenko is adept at overseeing a great shootout, but flounders when it comes to orchestrating a decent exchange of dialogue.
Some solid action aside, Velvet Revolution fails to do anything but bore with its one-dimensional characters and convoluted plotting. There is a pre-credit dedication to those who “stand guard over the future of our children,” suggesting a message lost amidst all the frantic edits and bad acting - and highlighting the muddled tone of Stepchenko’s film. KT
Film: Not Like Others
Release date: 25th October 2010
Certificate: 18
Running time: 78 mins
Director: Peter Pontikis
Starring: Jenny Lampa, Ruth Vega Fernandez, David Dencik, Omid Khansari, Peter Järn
Genre: Drama/Horror/Thriller
Studio: Chelsea
Format: DVD
Country: Sweden
Thanks to the ridiculous success of the Twilight saga over the last few years, vampire movies are hot property. So hot in fact that it’s starting to become a worldwide obsession; Sweden’s Let The Right One In (2008) and South Korea’s Thirst (2009) being two notable examples – the former having already been remade by Hollywood, soon to be released. Naturally, distributors and producers want to flood the market with as many vampire movies as possible, which leads us to Not Like Others; a film made back in 2008 that has been given a wider release.
Not Like Others is the story of Vera (Jenny Lampa) and Vanja (Ruth Vega Fernandez), two vampire sisters ostracised by the normal world who live like outcasts on the fringes of society. Vera has learned to accept her fate, killing in the name of sustenance, but Vanja, a chronic depressive, is desperate to adapt despite the risk of being found out.
Wanting to enjoy some of the Stockholm nightlife, Vera drags Vanja along to a nightclub. Whilst Vanja mopes at the bar, the leader of a local, tattoo-sporting biker-gang propositions Vera on the dance floor. After several unwanted advances, Vera concedes and lures the man into one of the club’s toilet cubicles where she decides to feed on his haemorrhaging blood. Vanja gets her fill before they both promptly leave the club.
Upon discovering that their leader has been murdered, the gang are in hot pursuit, as Vera and Vanja run for their lives…
Made in the same year, set in the same city, tackling similar subject matter, and exhibiting a similar cold and detached iconography as the critically acclaimed Let The Right One In, Not Like Others certainly has its work cut out in terms of distancing itself from unwanted comparisons. The similarities listed at the start of this paragraph are hard to ignore, plus the fact that both films use vampirism as a metaphor for social inadequacy and acceptance. Having said that, Not Like Others manages to do its own thing, making it an intriguing, yet flawed companion piece.
Flashbacks interspersed throughout the ongoing chase take into account often overlooked details about the day-to-day realities of vampires living in a modern world: Vera and Vanja gate crashing a house party to plunder the coat room for money, as their destitute living arrangement and their inability to withstand sunlight puts neither of them in a good position to function in a conventional manner; i.e. through employment. Another flashback suggests Vanja’s reluctance to murder people for food – as it’s pointed out earlier that they’re unable to process normal foodstuffs – opting to loot a hospital for blood packs. However, despite the potential of being a rare gem in a subgenre of mostly lacklustre offerings, Not Like Others is unfortunately not as successful as it could’ve been.
The film quite wisely and refreshingly plays down on its vampire conceit, eschewing much of the usual dogma for an altogether realistic approach. There is absolutely no talk of crosses, silver or garlic; there is no superhuman speed or strength attributed to either Vera or Vanja. They don’t even have fangs, a controversial and bold move that further leans the film towards being a text about prejudice and existing outside the norm as opposed to a work of pure fancy. Vera carries a small knife in which to puncture the throats of her victims before feeding on the spilled contents. On the upside, this obliterates all opportunity for annoying and cliché open-mouthed-hissing-to-camera moments that plague almost every other vampire flick out there.
However, this minimalism represents a double edged sword, resulting in a woefully underwritten script and a plot that’s stretched so thin you’d be forgiven if you thought that there wasn’t one. Surprisingly, for a film that’s barely over seventy minutes in length, Not Like Others feels overlong and padded. Aside from the occasional flashback, the main story consists of Vera and Vanja running around the empty streets of Stockholm, and hiding out in underground tube stations with the occasional shot of a man on a motorcycle to remind you that they’re still being chased. There is a distinct lack of tension or even urgency, considering that the two girls will most likely be killed if they get caught which, for a film with a set up and all the pretensions of being a thriller, is rather damaging indeed.
Performances are adequate but nothing special. Lampa is perhaps the most at ease with the minimal material, partly because she is given the most to do, frequently leaving Vanja to lay low while she checks that it’s safe to move on. One such excursion sees her interacting with a taxi driver (David Denick), which makes for a truly bizarre centrepiece. The driver offers Vera a lift in his cab, which she accepts to avoid being caught by the biker in pursuit. When the driver realises that she has no money, he pulls over, makes a sexual advance on her, only to then change his mind. By way of apology, he decides to drive her to the destination of her choice, making friendly small talk along the way. When they arrive, he changes his mind and decides that sex would be nice, attempting to trap Vera in the car.
However, it is Vera and Vanja’s relationship that is the main focus here, but, apart from a couple of flashbacks, we never really find out that much about them. A shame, considering the potential depth of their sisterly bond made stronger through their shared circumstance. A scene that sees them screaming under a bridge as a train passes overhead offers a glimpse of happiness within their bleak and ostracised situation, but its too odd and fleeting a moment for it to truly strike a chord. And when the bikers start to close in on them, not only is it a predictable turn of events, but emotionally underwhelming as well.
Unfortunately, Not Like Others had great potential but ends up wanting. Its intriguing ideas and fresh take on the subgenre is severely undermined by a minimal and uneventful story that lacks the atmosphere, tension and empathy that was achieved in the similar and altogether superior Let The Right One In. A stronger plot and better developed characters could’ve turned this into a touching and unconventional essay on human loneliness, but instead we have is a textbook case of missed opportunity. On the bright side, purists can rest assured that it probably won’t get remade by Hollywood anytime soon. MP
