Showing posts with label groundhog day. Show all posts
Showing posts with label groundhog day. Show all posts

Monday, 2 June 2014

Edge Of Tomorrow

If there's one thing I hate, it's films which include that universally familiar helicopter shot of the Thames with the Houses Of Parliament and the London Eye, then stick the utterly redundant caption "LONDON" over it for the benefit of people too dumb to dress themselves. It happened in Jack Ryan: Shadow Recruit and immediately told me the film was aimed at total fucking idiots. So when it turned up in Edge Of Tomorrow, I punched the person next to me out of rage and settled in for a completely average sci-fi videogame shoot-em-up. And that's exactly what I got. But not for about an hour. The rest was ace.
When you gotta go, you gotta go

There's so much to love in the first act. Tom Cruise plays deliciously against type as Major William Cage, an oily PR gonk who'd do anything to weasel out of a fight, and it's as refreshing as a jug of iced water down the front of your undies. No sooner is he railroaded into joining the battle for humanity against an army of alien bastards, for which he is hilariously under-equipped, than he falls into an inconvenient time-loop which is masterfully handled by director Doug Liman. It's easy to bore the audience to tears by repeating stuff over and over (see also Vantage Point, my BlogalongaBond reviews), but Chris McQuarrie's zippy script doesn't fuck about. McQuarrie and Liman ruthlessly shove the plot towards the all-important exposition while playing the scenes for LOLs, of which there are many - mostly gleefully derived from Cruise dying horribly. Watching him struggle to get the safety off on his ludicrous battle suit for fifteen minutes is almost as much fun as seeing Bill Paxton playing exactly the soldier that Aliens' Private Hudson would have become.

When the action moves to the beaches of northern France and a full-on barney with the bad guys, the cracks in the story start to show. There are obvious parallels with the second world war - much of this section plays out like a PG Saving Private Ryan - but for no clear subtextual reason. Edge Of Tomorrow is a knockabout sci-fi extravaganza, and it makes no claims to rival the existential crisis of Groundhog Day, which is fine but also a shame; the opportunity to have it actually say something is right there, but instead it's happy to be a film about Tom Cruise learning to be Tom Cruise.
How To Be Tom Cruise, Step 1: Run funny while pulling a daft face

At this point though, all is still well: Emily Blunt is fiery and caustic as the Full Metal Bitch who's the only one with the knowledge to help Cage through his predicament; Noah Taylor does the Basil Exposition thing well enough and everything is trucking along so nicely that when Cage understandably takes a day off from dying horribly to go to the pub, we're happy for the chance to see him take it easy. But at around the half way mark, the gags dry up, it all gets a bit serious and when the final act rolls around Edge Of Tomorrow reverts into exactly the completely average sci-fi videogame shoot-em-up I was dreading. At one point I thought Liman had stitched in scenes from Pacific Rim, so generic was the climax. It's an argument for another day, but why is Hollywood so scared of doing an original finale? It's like a comfort blanket filmmakers think we need so we don't go stumbling out into the night, confused and terrified by the slightest alteration to a tired formula.

Anyway, Edge Of Tomorrow does what it does very well, it's just that what it does is only partially interesting. Having turned out an hour of first class blockbuster entertainment, it chickens out, puts the safety back on and delivers a denouement that's merely fine. Then, as if to ensure the erasure of any leftover goodwill, it parps out a catastrophically confusing coda that makes literally no sense whatsoever. Still, you've seen Tom Cruise be a hero, you've seen him die countless times and you've seen a sweaty Emily Blunt get up off the floor in a sexier way than anyone's ever got up off the floor before, and you've seen it about half a dozen times. Something for everyone there.

Friday, 8 July 2011

Award-Winning Idea #219

Having recently endured enjoyed the SingalongaGrease experience at London's Prince Charles Cinema, it occurred to me that there are massive gaps in the market for further interactive movie experiences in which cinema audiences can join in with the on-screen fun from the comfort of their seats.

And so, without further attempt to explain why I bothered with any of this, here are eleven suggestions for the future of cinema. All ideas are © Me so don't even think about it.

MumblelongaTrueGrit
Every time Jeff Bridges opens his mouth, the entire audience mumbles along incoherently, with helpful subtitles and a bouncing ball.
Any patrons who want a taster of what this experience might be like should watch live coverage of the House Of Commons.

RemovafacealongaMission:Impossible2
On entering the screening, each audience member is given several full face masks to put on. Each time an actor removes their face in the film, the audience does too. Special care must be taken to ensure each patron has enough masks and does not inadvertently remove their own face.

AmnesialongaMemento
Audiences at this event will be able to join in the fun by having the last ten minutes of their memory wiped at ten-minute intervals in order to truly immerse them in the world of Memento's protagonist, Leonard. When they leave the cinema they'll have no idea where they are or why they're there but will be only too happy to watch it again.

BustaballsalongaGoodFellas
Every time a character makes reference to balls being busted and/or broken, audience members must bust the balls of their neighbour. This can be done with repeated verbal needling or, if it's Robert De Niro doing the complaining, customers are entitled to physically break the balls of whoever they wish. Screenings are to be held in venues with nearby A&E facilities.

DisappointalongaPhantomMenace
Whenever an audience member is disappointed by an annoying moppet or let down by an atrocious CGI character, they must themselves trample on the hopes and dreams of a loved one. A pre-screening demonstration will show patrons how to rape someone else's childhood or stamp on the toes of a friend's fondest memories.

FalsendingalongaReturnOfTheKing
Every time it looks like the final Lord Of The Rings film is ending, the entire audience picks up their coat and bags and shuffles politely out of the auditorium, into their cars and drives home. Just as they're getting into bed they are phoned by the cinema and told they have to come back to see the rest of the film. This happens with every potential ending. Screenings are expected to last approximately two days.

FightalongaFightClub
The Rules Of FightalongaFightClub
First Rule: You do not talk about FightalongaFightClub.
Second Rule: Every time a character fights, the audience must fight too.
Third Rule: If someone goes for a wee or some more nachos, FightalongaFightClub is over.
Fourth Rule: The entire audience must fight each other.
Fifth Rule: Multiple fights at a time are compulsory.
Sixth rule: No shirts, no shoes. You too, fellas.
Seventh Rule: FightalongaFightClub will go on as long as it has to.
Eighth Rule: If this is your first time at FightalongaFightClub, bring your last will and testament.

RepeatalongaGroundhogDay
Groundhog Day is screened without incident, but is then screened again and again, on an eternal loop. All exits will be locked to prevent escape until all audience members learn to be better people and convince Andie Macdowell to shag them.

DreamwithinadreamalongaInception
As each dream level is reached in the narrative, audiences must discover a deeper level of their own subconscious in which to have a mind-boggling action sequence. Ushers will be on hand to deliver "The Kick" if it looks like any patrons are about to die, but they'll probably be distracted by the fit girl serving the popcorn so keep one eye open. Audiences must provide their own totem.

DosomethingpointlessalongaTronLegacy
With every pointless or incomprehensible event that occurs on screen, the audience must also undertake something useless or baffling. Examples may include waving a stick around and impersonating David Bowie, delivering motivational speeches to their PCs and describing the sun as "big, round and yellow".

SurgicallyattachalongaHumanCentipede
Chloroform, handkerchiefs and sewing kits are taped under a quarter of the seats in the auditorium. If an audience member finds this goody bag, they must render three other customers unconscious at the same time that it happens in the film, and then continue to imitate the actions of the film's mad doctor. The fun really begins when detectives burst into the auditorium and start shooting.

HamalongaHopkins
In this special season of screenings of every Anthony Hopkins film, audiences must devour an entire ham every time the great man speaks, moves or thinks. If, by the end of the season, patrons are still hungry, they may begin chewing the scenery.

Shagalonga9Songs
Sorry, every screening of this has already sold out.