ALAN PARTRIDGE (France/UK - 2013; US release 2014)
British actor/writer/comedian Steve Coogan's (PHILOMENA) best known character is clueless and insufferably self-aggrandizing radio and TV personality Alan Partridge. Coogan's been playing Partridge off-and-on on numerous British TV shows since 1991, and it's proven so popular that he had a change of heart on his plan to retire Partridge some years back. Coogan's first stab at bringing Alan Partridge to the big screen resulted in a blockbuster hit in British theaters, where it was called ALAN PARTRIDGE: ALPHA PAPA. The second half of the title was dropped by US distributor Magnolia, but it makes no matter. If you like snappy, misanthropic, foul-mouthed British humor in the vein of THE THICK OF IT and its big-screen spinoff IN THE LOOP (2009), you'll dig ALAN PARTRIDGE since it also features the contributions of co-writer Armando Iannucci, whose unique brand of biting humor has translated beautifully to American TV with HBO's blisteringly funny VEEP. Here, Partridge is the afternoon DJ at North Norfolk Digital, a small-time radio station that's just been bought out by a big-time media company run by the loathsome Jason Tresswell (Nigel Lindsay). Fearing for his job security, Partridge trash-talks veteran night DJ Pat Farrell (Colm Meaney) enough that Farrell is canned. Later that night, at a party thrown at the station by Tresswell, a disgruntled Farrell shows up and takes everyone hostage. Acting as a liaison between the police and Farrell, Partridge sees the siege and the inevitable media circus as his ticket back to the big time.
Even if you haven't seen much of Coogan's past work as Partridge, ALAN PARTRIDGE works just fine as a stand-alone film. You'll be able to fill in the blanks, like Partridge's insensitive interaction with doting assistant Lynn Benfield (Felicity Montagu) or the antics of his Geordie friend Michael (Simon Greenall). Coogan and Iannucci assembled a summit of ALAN PARTRIDGE writers older and newer to put this together, including Peter Baynham, who worked on the early Partridge material and went on to write BORAT with Sacha Baron Cohen, plus twin brothers Neil & Rob Gibbons, who worked on more recent PARTRIDGE incarnations with Coogan. Along with the writers, director Declan Lowney (a veteran of numerous British TV favorites like FATHER TED and LITTLE BRITAIN) approaches this in a fan-friendly fashion and doesn't fix what isn't broken, while at the same time making it accessible for the first-time viewer. Of course, if you know Coogan's style or have seen any of his work with Rob Brydon, you know what to expect. Whether he's being politically incorrect, extraordinarily self-centered, pretending to be on the phone to avoid talking to someone only to have it ring, or just being an outright coward (as someone's about to enter a room with guns blazing, Partridge tells one woman "I'll protect you" while sheepishly crouching behind her), Coogan is hilariously obnoxious throughout, and has a good foil in Meaney's ill-tempered Farrell. Sure, the whole concept is more than a little reminiscent of the 1994 radio station hostage comedy AIRHEADS, but Coogan and Iannucci bring enough of their distinctive style to the table to make it very worthwhile. (R, 90 mins)
CAPITAL (France - 2012; US release 2013)
Though he's dabbled in various genres, the great Greek-French filmmaker Costa-Gavras is best known for his politically-charged films like the Oscar-winning Z (1969), THE CONFESSION (1970), STATE OF SIEGE (1972), MISSING (1982), BETRAYED (1988), and MUSIC BOX (1989). He's never shied away from controversy, especially with 1983's HANNA K, a film whose perceived Palestinian sympathies got it yanked from theaters and probably had a hand in effectively ending Jill Clayburgh's run as a Hollywood A-lister. Costa-Gavras hasn't made an American film since 1997's ham-fisted MAD CITY, but he's been working fairly steadily in France over the last decade. His latest--and first to get US distribution since 2002's AMEN--is CAPITAL, which finds the 80-year-old director taking aim at the global financial meltdown in sometimes heavy-handed ways, and while it's not essential Costa-Gavras, it's still worth seeing. It's hard to make financial thrillers thrilling (the recent MOBIUS is a great example of how not to do it), and while the characters and the subplots are fairly standard-issue, CAPITAL gets some genuine momentum going once all the pieces are in place.
When the old-school CEO (Daniel Mesguich) of France-based Phenix Bank has a heart attack and gets an overly symbolic testicular cancer diagnosis (that's right--he doesn't have the balls for this business anymore), he nominates his protege Marc Tourneuil (Gad Elmaleh) to replace him. The board isn't happy, but figure Tourneuil is enough of a yes-man that they can bully him around and get what they want anyway. Tourneuil proves to be a hard negotiator and a driven businessman and immediately makes a number of bottom-line decisions that are so unpopular that even his mentor wants him fired. Phenix is in dire shape and in order to turn things around, Tourneuil forms an uneasy alliance with an aggressive Miami-based hedge fund overseen by ruthless financial titan Dittmar Rigule (Gabriel Byrne, who had one of his earliest major roles in HANNA K). Rigule plots an insider trading scam to drain Phenix's assets through a secret corporation, then overtake it with his own hedge fund, essentially using Phenix's money to buy themselves out. Tourneuil is promised a fat payday out of it and the first step is firing 10,000 Phenix employees worldwide to aid in shareholder (and Rigule) profit. Of course, Tourneuil's mind isn't always focused on Rigule's junkyard-dog act or the deceptive machinations of his own underlings, since his newfound power predictably turns him into a total asshole, ignoring his devoted wife (Natacha Regnier) and growing obsessed with a manipulative supermodel (Laura Gemser lookalike Liya Kebede), even blowing off meetings so he can fly to Tokyo to go down on her in an airport restroom. The relationship between Tourneuil and the supermodel is the most problematic element in CAPITAL, taking up too much time and going nowhere, and their final scene together is just unpleasant and bizarre. Costa-Gavras pulls no punches in his depiction of the high-rolling sociopaths that inhabit the financial world: even from the beginning, when the old CEO collapses on a golf course, Tourneuil is already grinning at the prospect of being put in charge. He's not a nice guy corrupted by power. He's an asshole who was patiently waiting for his turn. In the end, CAPITAL's points are simplistic and obvious, but the financial cat-and-mouse game between Tourneuil and Rigule (it's great fun watching Byrne turn from a smooth operator into a bloviating prick as the film goes on) provides some well-handled dramatic tension. It's no Z, but Costa-Gavras, still looking spry, energetic, and a good decade younger than his age in the DVD's making-of doc, still has a little gas left in the tank. (R, 114 mins)
HAUNT (US - 2014)
It's probably easier to just list the movies HAUNT rips off rather than attempt a review. Another in an ever-increasing (and ever-annoying) line of slow-burner horror films that mistakes "long stretches of lethargically-paced nothing" for "building tension" (thanks, Ti West!), HAUNT offers yet another dull and oblivious family moving into a cursed house because it's impossibly cheap thanks to all of the murders that have taken place under its roof. The Ashers--dad (Brian Wimmer), mom (Ione Skye), oldest daughter (Danielle Chuchran), son (Harrison Gilbertson), and younger daughter (Ella Harris)--relocate to a spacious Iowa home where the the previous family all met horrific ends except for the matriarch (SILVER LININGS PLAYBOOK'S Jacki Weaver), who ran a pediatrics practice from a home office. The ghostly activity starts with an EVP (electronic voice phenomenon) machine that's been left behind in a secret room next to Gilbertson's. Gilbertson meets a troubled teen (Liana Liberato) who lives down the road with her abusive father, and soon she's sleeping over with him, which is totally cool since his folks are the hippest and most easygoing parents around. Gilbertson and Liberato mess around with the machine and a voice tells him to "Get out of my room!" Soon enough, they're haunted by the usual apparitions out of nowhere, shadows lurk in hallways, wet footprints lead nowhere, and the youngest Asher is having long conversations with her dolls, standing in doorways in a catatonic stupor, and scratching the eyes and faces out of family photos. Might it all have something to do with a clumsily-placed flashback with Weaver helping out a young mother with a screaming baby girl? Gilbertson is so preoccupied playing savior with Liberato that he doesn't even notice the weird stuff going on with his little sister, which is fine since director Mac Carter and writer Andrew Barrer completely forget about her anyway. Instead, they just restage elements of INSIDIOUS, WHITE NOISE, THE AMITYVILLE HORROR, SINISTER, and of course, once they unleash the angry spirit of Weaver's teenage son, Gilbertson briefly becomes possessed and starts doing the herky-jerky JU-ON/GRUDGE shuffle. With no scares, thoroughly cardboard characters, and an egregious wasting of two-time Oscar-nominee Weaver, HAUNT (not to be confused with the recent and much better HAUNTER) is an instantly forgettable trifle that almost wears its half-assed laziness like a badge of honor, its only concern being how many movies it can crib from on its way to the $5 DVD bin at Wal-Mart. I guess the only good thing you can say about it is that no one in the family seems to own a video camera. (R, 86 mins, also available on Netflix Instant)
As found-footage continues its status as the horror subgenre that refuses to die, largely because it's cheap to produce and it's a way for young filmmakers to get their feet wet, it can also function as a last-ditch place for long-established filmmakers to run when they find themselves in a career rut. It worked surprisingly well for Barry Levinson with THE BAY, and now DIE HARD 2 and CLIFFHANGER director Renny Harlin, who hasn't had a hit since 1999's DEEP BLUE SEA, as he belatedly hops on the bandwagon with the barely-released DEVIL'S PASS. Written by reality TV vet Vikram Weet (whose production associate credits include THE REAL WORLD and KEEPING UP WITH THE KARDASHIANS), the film ostensibly tries to get to the truth behind the mysterious Dyatlov Pass Incident, which took place in the mountains of northern Russia in 1959. Nine mountain climbers were found frozen to death, many displaying inexplicable injuries like severed tongues and crushed chest cavities with no exterior bruising, and one had an exceedingly high amount of radiation. The official word from the Russian government was hypothermia, but there's long been conspiracy theories about everything from UFOs to nuclear testing to a yeti attack. University of Oregon psych student Holly (Holly Goss) has been obsessed with the case for much of her life, and gets a grant to shoot a documentary where she attempts to get to the bottom of the mystery. Joining her on the project are her platonic friend and cameraman/conspiracy theorist Jensen (Matt Stokoe), sound operator Denise (Gemma Atkinson), and experienced guides JP (Luke Albright) and Andy (Ryan Hawley).
For about 2/3 of its running time, DEVIL'S PASS is on the high end of the found-footage genre. The characters aren't too irritating, Harlin stays fairly consistent with the camera work, and the frozen, desolate surroundings are always effective for horror films. There's a couple of brief glimpses of figures lingering in the snowy background, and strange footprints start appearing near their camp. JP and Andy think Holly is playing games, but of course she isn't. The film only starts stumbling when it busts out the night-vision and the requisite "running around screaming with a shaky cam," gets sloppy with the consistency of the camera operation, the dialogue starts to sound a little too scripted, and Harlin and Weet start piling on everything from alien abductions, psychic and paranormal phenomena, wormholes and teleportation, time travel, the Philadelphia Experiment, and even the Mothman. It's not for nothing that JP is seen reading Kurt Vonnegut's Slaughterhouse Five at one point. It almost threatens to turn itself into a found-footage take on THE CABIN IN THE WOODS, but Harlin eventually buckles down for a twist ending that's goofy but mostly works. Just don't expect any serious examination of the Dyatlov Pass Incident and you'll be reasonably entertained. There are some undeniably chilling moments throughout, but it's getting difficult at this point to get excited about anything related to found-footage. (R, 100 mins)
ALIEN UPRISING (UK - 2012/2013 US release)
Originally titled U.F.O., this British alien invasion sci-fi outing combines elements of INDEPENDENCE DAY and ATTACK THE BLOCK into something a bit too derivative for its own good. After a night of clubbing, a group of Derby friends--Michael (Sean Brosnan, Pierce's look/sound-alike son), Robin (Simon Phillips), Robin's fiancée Dana (Maya Grant), Vincent (Jazz Lintott), plus Carrie (Bianca Bree), a vacationing American who hooks up with Michael, wake up to find the power's out, the clocks are stopped, and phones and radios are dead. Soon enough, a giant spacecraft is hovering in the sky above and all hell breaks loose as the quintet tries to make their way to the isolated compound of Michael's ex-Black Ops/survivalist uncle George (Jean-Claude Van Damme). Writer/director Dominic Burns relies far too much on handheld, jittery shaky-cam and he's got a bad poker face, showing his hand way too early for his twist ending to work. When Carrie is quoting Roy Batty's "All those moments..." speech from BLADE RUNNER and says she's "not a 'phone home' type of girl," I think Burns intends for it to be winking fun but it comes off as insulting to consider that he might think the target audience isn't savvy enough to figure out where he's heading with it. He also tries to shoehorn in some shallow, heavy-handed social commentary in the form of a grizzled old gas station attendant played by the great Julian Glover ("Survival of the fittest," he mutters, "...maybe they'll just sit back and watch us all turn on each other"), and chooses the dumbest possible time for the immature Vincent to reveal his secret feelings for Dana. Still, Burns' enthusiasm buys him some wiggle room, he gives Sean Pertwee a couple of scenes to ham it up as a homeless guy, and he does offer one legitimately surprising fate for one of the leads in addition to staging a few decent action sequences and one epic fight in the vein of Isaac Florentine.
ALIEN UPRISING isn't very good, but it would be a bit better if Burns had a more competent star than Bree, a beautiful but astonishingly inept actress whose presence is likely a contractual demand to secure the guest-star participation of her father: Jean-Claude Van Damme. JCVD has put his daughter and son Kristopher Van Varenberg in most of his own recent films (Kristopher sits this one out), but Bree has never had this much screen time before. But this isn't really a Van Damme vehicle: he appears in a couple of two-second cutaways early on and isn't properly introduced until around 75 minutes in, exiting approximately 12 minutes later. He's sleepwalking through his one day on the set and is just here for distribution value and to get his daughter a leading role, and while I'm sure he loves his little girl like any dad would, Bree is just absolutely god-awful. Brosnan, on the other hand, has enough of his old man's screen presence that he could probably have a future in DTV actioners. If Burns can nix the shaky-cam and deliver a sci-fi action flick that pairs up JCVD and young Brosnan, he might have something. (R, 101 mins)
SIGHTSEERS (France/UK - 2012/2013 US release)
The third effort by British filmmaker Ben Wheatley (DOWN TERRACE, KILL LIST) is a misanthropic, absurdist road movie/black comedy that almost plays like Mike Leigh remaking NATURAL BORN KILLERS. The humor is of the darkest sort and most of the laughs come from discomfort as awkward, sheltered, mom-jeans-wearing Tina (Alice Lowe) is 34 and lives with her controlling mum (Eileen Davies), who won't let her forget about a freak knitting accident that resulted in the death of her beloved dog ("It was an accident!" Tina pleads. "So were you," Mum replies). Tina has just started dating affable caravanner Chris (Steve Oram), an alleged writer who wants to take his "muse" on an "erotic journey" as they hit the road for inspiration for his latest book. On a tour bus, Chris gets irate with a litterer and later, accidentally backs over the guy, killing him. Tina is horrified and Chris tries to shield her eyes from the gory sight, but the grin of satisfaction on his face tells us there might be more in store than an erotic journey. Yes, Chris is a serial killer who mainly takes out people who piss him off, like a successful writer he pushes off a cliff (and steals his dog to give to Tina), or a guy who yells at Tina in a park after the dog defecates and she has nothing with which to pick it up. Tina finds the killing a turn-on, but when she tries it herself, it puts a strain on the relationship, as does Chris' man-crush on a bicyclist (Richard Glover) they meet on the road. Executive produced by Edgar Wright and written by Lowe and Oram, along with Wheatley's KILL LIST co-writer Amy Jump, SIGHTSEERS is decidedly not for all tastes with its morbid, deadpan humor and moments of comically over-the-top gore, but if you appreciate this sort of thing, it's a worthwhile film, an often subtly, grimly hilarious study of two lonely, murderous souls lucky enough to find one another. It also shows Wheatley coming into his own after the inexplicable acclaim bestowed on KILL LIST, which was very well-made but had a plot that was stale and predictable, a WICKER MAN retread with the filmmaker telegraphing the twists far too early. SIGHTSEERS is a major improvement. (Unrated, 88 mins)
For much of his 1980s GREMLINS heyday working in conjunction with producer Steven Spielberg, director Joe Dante was generally considered a capable, commercial genre craftsman. He made entertaining movies that made money. But going back to his days editing trailers for 1970s Roger Corman productions, and with his own early directing efforts like PIRANHA (1978) and THE HOWLING (1981), Dante's work exhibited knowing winks, nods, and loving homages to his own influences from classic horror films to vintage Looney Tunes, including giving some of his favorite and still-living old-time actors some meaty late-career roles long before Quentin Tarantino made it cool. Nowadays, critics recognize Dante's often subversive wit and anarchic style and even a film like THE 'BURBS, savaged by critics in 1989, has enjoyed a resurgence as a cult film with a lot more going on beneath the surface. Dante films like GREMLINS 2: THE NEW BATCH (1990) and SMALL SOLDIERS (1998) have been praised for their cutting social commentary in the guise of popcorn genre fare. Now, at a still-youthful 65, Dante, like his contemporary John Carpenter, has lived long enough to see many of his dismissed films re-evaluated and to find himself considered an auteur. And like Carpenter, Dante seems content to enjoy his emeritus status and has opted to focus more on interviews, retrospectives, and conventions rather than worrying about remaining topical and trendy in a world of cinema that's simply changed too drastically for him to be as commercially viable as he once was. Dante was unstoppable in the 1980s. His latest film took three years to get picked up by a company called Big Air Studios.
THE HOLE, shot in 2009 but unreleased in the US until a very limited theatrical run (in 3D) in September 2012, is Dante's first feature since 2003's troubled LOONEY TUNES: BACK IN ACTION. In that time off, he's directed episodes of CSI and the new HAWAII FIVE-0, a short film accompanying a GOOSEBUMPS amusement park ride, two episodes of Showtime's MASTERS OF HORROR (including the acclaimed anti-war screed "Homecoming"), and the wraparound segments of the terrible 2008 anthology film TRAPPED ASHES. THE HOLE almost feels like a GREMLINS-era 1980s throwback in many respects, probably the main reason why it took so long to find a distributor, even with being shot in 3D. Entertaining if a bit lethargically paced, THE HOLE has single mom Teri Polo moving to a small town with moody teenage son Chris Massoglia and younger son Nathan Gamble. The brothers and cute girl next door Haley Bennett discover a locked door in the basement floor, which leads to a seemingly bottomless pit. They keep this finding a secret, but are soon confronted by--stop me if you've heard this one before--the physical manifestations of the things they fear the most. For young Gamble, it's evil clowns. For Bennett, the spectre of a ghost girl straight out of RINGU, and for Massoglia, it's a nightmarish version of his abusive, long-absent father. As charmingly old-school as THE HOLE can be, the script by Mark L. Smith (VACANCY) is really stale, and even at 92 minutes, the film feels padded. I thought Massoglia and Gamble both did good work, and I liked the feel of the early scenes, which really took me back to seeing Dante films like GREMLINS and EXPLORERS as a kid, but once the plot kicks in, you'll know every twist and turn, and only in the finale, when Massoglia ventures into the hole, does Dante really attempt anything unique. Also with Bruce Dern as Creepy Carl, the house's previous owner who tries to warn them about the hole, and the venerable Dick Miller in a silent cameo as the world's oldest pizza delivery guy. THE HOLE is a pleasant, if extremely slight film, nowhere in the vicinity of top-tier Dante, but it's nice to see a new film by him. (PG-13, 92 mins)
ROSEWOOD LANE (US - 2012)
I can't fathom there being a more absurd, laugh-out-loud thriller in 2012 than ROSEWOOD LANE, the latest from Victor Salva, who's a long way from JEEPERS CREEPERS here. Salva is a filmmaker known more for being a registered sex offender (I'm not going to rehash it here, check his Wikipedia page if you don't know the story), but credit where it's due: JEEPERS CREEPERS is a pretty great horror film. The sequel was terrible, and so is ROSEWOOD LANE, an instant Bad Movie classic that Universal didn't even bother releasing in theaters. Talk radio shrink Dr. Sonny Blake (Rose McGowan) moves back into her childhood home in the suburbs after the mysterious death of her estranged father. It seems to be a quiet, peaceful neighborhood in a cul-de-sac on Rosewood Lane, but the neighbors live in an all-consuming fear of psychotic paperboy Derek Barber (Daniel Ross Owens). Derek is almost immediately sneaking into Sonny's house, rearranging ceramic figurines, confronting her in the basement, calling in to her show and taunting her with nursery rhymes...and a great introductory deal on a subscription, but she better act now to save! And he's not really making any effort to hide what he's doing. Even old neighbor Fred (Rance Howard, Ron's dad) says "Yeah, sometimes I hear him walkin' on my roof...I seen him up on yours, too." THEN DO SOMETHING! During a housewarming backyard BBQ, Derek takes a leak on Sonny's on-again/off-again boyfriend Barrett (Sonny Marinelli) through a hole in a privacy fence. But the paperboy always seems to disappear into thin air before anyone can confront him. And no one seems really eager to deal with the issue. Do-nothing detective Briggs (Ray Wise) says there's no evidence and questions if Sonny's just imagining all of it as a psychological reaction to being back in a traumatic environment, and since Derek's a minor (the actor Owens is 29 and looks it), they can't go after him without his parents' permission. So, Derek's reign of terror escalates and the body count starts piling, and well, gosh darn it, there just isn't anything that can be done about it.
I have a few questions: did Salva intend for this to be a comedy? What is the deal with Derek? Where are his parents? Why do the neighbors just put up with him routinely entering their homes and terrorizing them? Why does everyone just accept the lunatic antics of this little shit as part of life on Rosewood Lane? And does he do this to the rest of his paper route? Why just this dead-end street? Has anyone called the newspaper and asked to speak with Derek's supervisor? Why do the cops look the other way? Actually no, I take that back. They don't look the other way. They look right at it. And do nothing. Derek even calls Sonny's show at one point and flat-out says he buried Barrett alive in Sonny's backyard...but when the cops go there, they just stand around and bitch because they can't find anything, and only notice the snorkel sticking out of a mound of dirt when one cop trips over it. No, really. Also with Lauren Velez, Lin Shaye, Bill Fagerbakke, and Lesley-Anne Down (still a knockout after all these years), ROSEWOOD LANE is professionally-made and competently-acted, but the film is almost as out-to-lunch hilarious and as off-the-charts stupid as THE ROOM. Come on, Salva. Seriously. What the hell is this bullshit? (R, 96 mins, also streaming on Netflix)
4.3.2.1 (UK - 2010; 2012 US release)
It took Universal two years to dump this occasionally diverting but overlong British crime thriller straight to DVD in the US. Written and co-directed by KIDULTHOOD and ADULTHOOD writer and sometime DOCTOR WHO guest star Noel Clarke (who shares directing duties with Mark Davis), 4.3.2.1 has some cast members that would seem to guarantee at least a limited US theatrical release, but apparently, Universal didn't see a Simon Pegg thing happening with Clarke. Highly reminiscent of Doug Liman's GO (1999), 4.3.2.1 details the wild weekend of four young London-based women and highly unlikely friends--American expat Jo (Emma Roberts), wealthy and virginal piano prodigy Cassandra (Tamsin Egerton), street-smart lesbian Kerrys (Shanika Warren-Markland), and mousy, introverted graffiti artist Shannon (Ophelia Lovibond). Starting on a Friday afternoon and told in four roughly 25-minute segments, we follow the path of each through the weekend--including a quick trip to NYC for Cassandra--going back after each until all the plot lines and characters converge. There's sex, a diamond heist, Viagra, stolen cars, Pringles, a panic room, mistaken identity, a misplaced note, familial dysfunction, convenience store mayhem, club brawls, a NYC racist confronted by a large group of thugs ("Hey, come on guys...I voted for Obama!") led by Eve, and a ruthless assassin (Michelle Ryan). Lots of familiar British TV faces and Clarke pals turn up (Sean Pertwee, Ashley Thomas, Ben Miller, Camille Coduri, and others), in addition to Mandy Patinkin and even Kevin Smith in a likable supporting turn as the gregarious Big Larry, who becomes an unexpected friend of Cassandra's in NYC. 4.3.2.1 isn't likely to achieve the cult status of GO or the early films of Guy Ritchie (another obvious influence), and it could probably lose 15-20 minutes, but it's not bad and the cast seems to be having a blast. (Unrated, 117 mins, also streaming on Netflix)
