Iro's Film Diary

Except for "When a jury convenes in order to provide a verdict for a murder case, one juror decides to argue against the others."

I knew I should have gone with my original write-up of "You know what it is".

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Iro's Top 100 Movies v3.0

#302 - Papillon
Franklin J. Schaffner, 1973



A wrongfully-imprisoned criminal joins forces with a wealthy inmate in order to engineer an escape from a penal colony.

Papillon is one of those films that defintely has a right to exist, but beyond that I'm not entirely sure how much worth it's got. It does boast a couple of good leads - Dustin Hoffman turns in a decent performance while Steve McQueen makes for an intriguing spot of stunt-casting - but despite its length and scope it still feels very thin. There's the odd moment that threatens to elevate it as it attempts to depict the psychology of both leads (specifically why McQueen wants to escape so badly while Hoffman is less enthused by the prospect), but these moments are sporadic and don't do too much to distinguish the film's hellish prison drama for the better.

#303 - Inside Job
Charles Ferguson, 2010



A documentary about the events that led to the 2008 global financial crisis.

I'm trying to figure out if watching this in the wake of The Big Short is liable to make one film or the other look better (though they are probably equally effective using vastly different methods of execution). While McKay's film gets to deploy self-aware fiction in order to summarise the complex economics at play for the average moviegoer, Ferguson's film trusts in the audience to follow along with the jargon and not-especially-clear infographics. While narrator Matt Damon and many of the interviewees may occasionally attempt to use metaphors and similes to illustrate complicated concepts, Inside Job is very much a film that requires a viewer's mind to be firing on all cylinders in order to process things without getting left behind. That is its strength and also its weakness.

#304 - Snatch
Guy Ritchie, 2000



A variety of criminals operating in and around London get caught up in a caper involving a priceless diamond and an underground boxing operation.

On the one hand, I want to hate Snatch because of what it represents - that whole wave of post-Pulp Fiction crime capers that aimed to appropriate Tarantino's particular brand of cinematic alchemy and offer their own (almost certainly inferior) spins on that most unoriginal of originators. Indeed, re-watching Snatch has highlighted how very lacking in substance it is underneath all the elements that make it a product of its time. Rapid-fire editing, foul-mouthed diatribes, darkly humourous acts of extreme violence...I know it's easy to write off Ritchie as a wannabe but Snatch barely manages to make up for it (which seems to reflect the typical Ritchie protagonist's attempts to keep alive and unharmed in the face of ever-looming danger). It manages to do so because it brings just enough style to the proceedings, pulling together a solid ensemble cast to not only deliver razor-sharp dialogue but also sell the moments where the dialogue loses its edge. Despite all that's wrong with it, I'm not about to write off Snatch completely. It's got just enough charm and guile to make up for its more obvious weaknesses and, if I may quote a certain other film about criminals getting into darkly humourous misadventures, personality goes a long way.

Papillon deserves a better rating than that. The only thing I hold against it is the long running time.

I hear there will be a remake too....ugh.

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"A laugh can be a very powerful thing. Why, sometimes in life, it's the only weapon we have."

Suspect's Reviews

What would push 12 Angry Men another half popcorn up for you?

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Movie Reviews | Anime Reviews
Top 100 Action Movie Countdown (2015): List | Thread
"Well, at least your intentions behind the UTTERLY DEVASTATING FAULTS IN YOUR LOGIC are good." - Captain Steel

Car chases and shoot-outs.

You are clearly forgetting the moment when Henry Fonda is on a screeching rampage, so close to being caught by the incoming police that he shoots a gas canister and it explodes Michael Bay style. This moment, which takes place in the beginning, signifies and introduces his rebellious nature, which we will see in the courtroom. And as we know, the sequel, 1 Angry Man, is all about Fonda's character with a gun. You do realize Taken was a remake right?

*laughs*

I could see 1 Angry Man being the title of some straight-to-video thriller starring Nic Cage or John Travolta.

When does the party start?

Hi Iro.

I agree that a musical is as good as its numbers and that You're the One that I want is overplayed. Do you like the song as such? I do.

What?

Eh, it's not the worst song I ever heard, I guess.

#305 - Suicide Squad
David Ayer, 2016



A government agent assembles a team of highly dangerous criminals in order to prevent an impending supernatural apocalypse.

Trying to approach a movie like Suicide Squad on its own terms is a difficult thing to do. Many well-publicised issues have plagued it from its very inception, with everything from controversial on-set occurrences to skepticism-inducing trailers pointing towards the increasingly likely possibility that the final product was going to be a veritable fiasco. This would only add to the rather unfortunate narrative that currently surrounds DC Comics' plan to craft their own extended cinematic universe with 2013's Man of Steel and this year's Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice. Considering the success and goodwill that the brand had earned off the basis of Christopher Nolan's Batman trilogy, it made sense that DC would choose to emphasise their movies being made by distinctive filmmakers rather than the all-encompassing house style favoured by Marvel. Of course, this arguably backfired when the filmmaker that DC settled on ended up being Zack Snyder, whose approach to reinventing Superman in Man of Steel had issues that were only exacerbated in Batman v Superman. Though Suicide Squad boasted a much more flexible cast of characters and a new filmmaker in David Ayer, there would be no telling if this would signal any improvement for DC's fortunes. At this point, it's not so much about whether you should invoke "death of the author" so much as it is about whether you can.

As with any film that opts to get by on the basis of outlandish characters and colourful spectacle, the underlying narrative is a simplistic one. The film begins in the aftermath of Batman v Superman with coolly Machiavellian government agent Amanda Waller (Viola Davis) outlining a proposal for the military to form a special task force comprised of known "meta-humans" whose supernatural abilities could prove useful. It turns out that most of them have been incarcerated within a top-secret prison with no hope of getting out. After introducing all the prospective members of the squad-to-be in an extended montage, the plot kicks in when one such meta-human (Cara Delevigne), a Jekyll-and-Hyde figure who alternates between being a timid archaeologist and an ancient demon known as the Enchantress, orchestrates a plan to break away from her handlers and wreak havoc on the world. Waller then proceeds to forcibly recruit meta-humans for her task force by injecting explosive devices into their necks (why does that sound familiar...) and sending them into the city that's being plagued by the Enchantress's magical rampage. Of course, what with the Squad being comprised mainly of dishonourable criminals, things never get out of hand so much as never get into hand in the first place. It's a thin plot and one that is prone to many a familiar development if one has watched enough superhero movies (or movies in general), but it's also basic enough to avoid distracting from the film's main draw - the characters.

Now, this is where things do get complicated. Getting the right balance for an ensemble cast of weird characters is always a challenge and I don't think that Suicide Squad pulls off such a feat because of weaknesses with the individuals involved. Things got to the point where my interest in a particular character tended to be inversely proportional to the amount of screen-time that they got. In this regard, the only character that truly achieves the right balance is El Diablo (Jay Hernandez), a heavily tattooed gang member whose ability to conjure fire is matched only by his reluctance to use it when faced with danger. Davis proves a consummate professional as the righteous but callous Waller to the point where she is the one most under-served by the material. Though Jai Courtney has earned an unfortunate reputation due to being cast in generic action hero roles, his turn as deranged super-crook Captain Boomerang at least allows him to show some range. Even characters like Killer Croc (Adewale Akinnuoye-Agbaje) and Katana (Karen Fukuhara) get hints at being potentially interesting characters (especially the latter), but that's skimmed over in favour of making them into flat, problematic characters. As for Slipknot (Adam Beach), well, I'd say "the less you know, the better" but I don't think that's possible. Their relative thinness speaks to the movie's generally cluttered approach that tries to do too much with a very loaded cast and ends up doing too little.

However, as much as I wish those side-characters might deserve a bit more time in the limelight, I can't help but wonder if the added focus would hinder them as much as it does with the main players. The closest the film gets to having a standard protagonist is Will Smith as Deadshot, a hyper-competent killer who gets some sympathetic back-story that's supposed to help flesh out an otherwise typically sardonic Smith performance. Margot Robbie is definitely primed to be a stand-out character as the homicidally chipper Harley Quinn; however, her turn as an impish wise-cracker with a tragic inner life tends to feel more irritating than charming as she relentlessly quips and giggles her way through almost every scene. Even though Harley's got a considerably dark back-story underneath her colourful exterior, one can definitely question whether it's competently executed within the context of this movie (especially when it involves a psychologically abusive partner in the form of Jared Leto's Joker). If there's one especially large millstone hanging around this movie's already-strained neck, it's Leto. For all his notorious Method antics, they don't amount to much as he fails to stand out in any remotely positive way during his mercifully brief time on-screen (his delivery of the line "this bird is baked" is a masterclass in the bad kind of horrible acting). To make matters worse, his relevance to the film at large is minimal and he only serves to epitomise the film's extremely bloated and haphazard execution.

Without a strong and well-balanced ensemble of characters around which to build, Suicide Squad flounders severely. Though it technically follows a three-act narrative, it is very much a film of two markedly different halves. The first half, which sees the Squad and other relevant players be introduced, seems willing to embrace the lighter side of the film's premise as it powers through introduction after introduction, each of which is packed with whizz-bang editing and raucous soundtrack choices. Even before the movie settles into a more consistently grim tone with its mission-based second half, its attempts to establish a sense of levity come across as overwhelmingly mercenary. Much of this is down to the soundtrack, which almost feels subversive in its use of overplayed hits (mostly in the classic rock genre) to accompany proceedings. Choice of music can make or break a scene; regardless of how I felt about the songs by themselves, their usage in Suicide Squad almost entirely leans towards "break" as their pointed relevance to any given scene comes across as uninspired. This is without even mentioning Steven Price's thoroughly forgettable original score, which does suffer for having to compete against a near-constant barrage of licensed tracks. This focus on musical shortcomings may come across as trivial, but considering how invested Suicide Squad is in projecting a strong sense of personality, the fact that it settles for some of the blandest song choices possible in order to accompany its larger-than-life characters is a major red flag.

It's pretty much a given at this point that any film involving superheroes or the universes that they inhabit needs to make the most of its fantastic potential. While this potential can be demonstrated in terms of both thematic substance and visual spectacle, Suicide Squad struggles when it comes to providing either. It's understandable that the movie would want to emphasise character over plot, but that becomes a problem when the characters get nothing of note to do. The villains have barely any personality to supplant their vague but obviously evil plan, whereas their minions are nondescript abominations that prove easy fodder for the Squad to obliterate without bloodshed or moral quandary. As a result, action scenes become chores to sit through; the members of the Squad are defined as having all sorts of unique abilities that make them relatively valuable assets, yet they are almost never utilised in engaging ways. This is only exacerbated by the movie's generally grim aesthetic and shoddy editing that can kill a sequence's momentum by interfering with pacing or simply focusing on the wrong elements. The lack of visual competence is reflected in the flimsy attempts to explore concepts of love, redemption, and anti-authoritarianism through these extremely damaged but fundamentally flat characters. I'd like there to be some meaning to these eyelid-dropping proceedings, but trying to hash it out doesn't do the movie any favours.

I think that a funhouse mirror is an apt metaphor for Suicide Squad (and possibly the DCEU in general), but I don't think it's an inherently positive one. While the mirror's deliberate distortion of the familiar is supposed to amuse an observer, I'd make the case that it is also capable of exaggerating imperfections to the point of becoming grotesque. Suicide Squad plays out like a funhouse mirror for the entire superhero sub-genre in manners that seem both deliberate and accidental, but never to the benefit of the movie (or even the universe) proper. This is especially true of its plot to have a group of villains become unlikely anti-heroes, which can't help but reflect poorly on the ineffectual heroics of actual DCEU do-gooders like Batman and Superman. Even when you disregard the ties to a greater continuity and take the movie as a stand-alone feature, it is still incredibly dependent on replicating many aspects of stock-standard superhero movies (even its final scene feels like a cruel subversion of a certain other superhero movie's nominally triumphant conclusion). Even the performers themselves, who should at least be the film's saving grace, are more likely to be wasted or overused or just plain awful. As a result, Suicide Squad ends up being quite the catastrophe as it doesn't come anywhere close to making the most of its potential and turns what could have been a darkly amusing romp into a choppy endurance test.

The SS review. Don't worry I helped myself to some of the top-shelf.

In that case...

#306 - All About Eve
Joseph L. Mankiewicz, 1950



When a veteran Broadway actress encounters a young fan with dreams of her own, she opts to take the fan under her wing.

Much like 12 Angry Men, this is another one of those undisputed '50s classics where I'll skip writing anything about it because, well, it's one of those films that speaks for itself. I will say that George Sanders' turn as an acerbic theatre critic is masterful even by the already-high standards of the rest of the ensemble.

#307 - The Bitter Tears of Petra Von Kant
Rainer Werner Fassbinder, 1972



A reclusive fashion designer and her live-in servant have their routine shaken up when the designer's friend introduces them to a young model.

This is a solid exercise in play-like minimalism with its single location and small cast who talk (or don't talk, in one case) for two whole hours. The compositions and shot choices are visibly inventive and only help to emphasise the characters' slow-burning interactions full of various forms of (mostly romantic) tension, though I must admit that I find it merely good rather than great.

#308 - Samurai Rebellion
Masaki Kobayashi, 1967



A samurai and his family find their peaceful lives upturned when one of the family's sons must enter into an arranged marriage.

This is about what I'd expect from the director of Harakiri as it sees a minor domestic issue between noble families gradually escalate into, well, samurai rebellion (this feels like a spoiler but hey, it's right there in the title and fits in with the film's sense of fatalism). The story it tells lacks overt excitement and theatrics but it still manages to be a compelling piece of cinema thanks to its touching on themes of class warfare and honour. It's got plenty of technical panache even in its subtler moments and it features a strong cast headlined by two legends in both Toshiro Mifune and Tatsuya Nakadai.