Reviews

Impressive filmmaking for the most part, cast excellent and shooting/editing first class.

The film is strongest at its beginning in unravelling the mystery and presenting the potential that the spooky goings on are the central character processing her grief.

Unfortunately, the film loses its way in the final third and the explanation is a) so contrived and b) utterly spoiled by elements revealed in the first 20 minutes (I honestly knew where it was going but thought it couldn't possibly be that daft).

SPOILER: What could have been an interesting exploration of grief and people being essentially unknowable is ruined by the realisation that you're just watching a Final Destination sequel.

There were two ways that a third instalment of the Rec series could have gone. They could have the Paranormal Activity route and expanded the histories of the characters from the previous film or they could introduce a bunch of new characters and throw them into a similar scenario.

Rec 3 goes the latter route and tags on a fairly meaningless appendage – this doesn't tell the story of the genesis of the lovable demonic rage zombies explained in the second film at all. In fact, whilst it doesn't ignore the expanded mythology from Rec 2, it does play fast and loose with some of the ideas.

This doesn't make it a weak film and it is never less than entertaining. Its just very different from the previous instalments and the expansion of scope reduces a lot of the claustrophobic tension that the first two films so eloquently expressed.

Spoilers follow:

We start familiarly, wedding videos shot by an amateur relative of the groom and footage shot by the professional employed to cover the video, so professional he uses a steadicam rig, alluding to the way the film is going – "cinema quality".

There is some fairly skillful character establishment of the bride and groom and their respective wedding parties and a hint that the demon rage transmission can happen through animals too.

Once chaos erupts and the familiar attacks begin, we get a title screen and the film moves from the first person video footage we've become accustomed to and tells its tale in a more traditionally cinematic way.

The crux of the plot has our gallant groom and blood spattered bride attempt to survive to reunite.

Although, it propels itself along nicely it is more a series of nice sequences strung together than a coherent film in its own right. Some of these sequences are excellently staged – a priest holding a posse of demons back by reciting passages from the bible is terrific as is a CCTV view of a demon attack on survivors hiding in a coach. Some sequences utilising a real view of the demons by reflection or by flashing lights verge on the Spielbergian (which is quite a heady compliment if you think about it). However, many of the other sequences are fairly perfunctory, traditional jumps and gore.

Attempts at humour are mostly misplaced, although there is one very funny Spongebob Squarepants moment.

Overall, the film barrels along at a fair old pace and doesn't trip over itself to give us a happy ending that would be out of place with the overall tone of the series

What's disappointing is that the plot almost completely ignores the characters and events from Rec and Rec 2, there are no mentions of the Medeiros girl or Angela Vidal at all. Its biggest failing is probably that it doesn't even give us a context – i.e. are these things happening at roughly the same time as events in the Barcelona tower block or later or earlier?

This final failing overall gives the film the feeling of an aside in the (presumably) broader storyline. It's a lot worthier than Twilight Of The Dead as an entry in an ongoing series, for example, but that isn't really saying a lot.

I love Spidey, always have and I was a big fan of Raimi's movies, even finding the freaky mess of Spider-Man 3 watchable.

So, a reboot so soon after the last sequel seemed redundant, although, hey its Spidey so I'll be there.

The Amazing Spider-Man is an entertaining couple of hours. The effects are good, Andrew Garfield and Emma Stone are both excellent, the supporting cast are variable (of which more later) but Martin Sheen and Sally Field are inspired casting choices for Aunt May and Uncle Ben.

However, it is clear that the studio are playing a long game with this reboot and want to carry the story into at least a couple of sequels, using Nolan's Batman as a model no doubt.

So TASM suffers from similar problems to Batman Begins, whilst there are elements that are excellent, it is slightly less than the sum of its parts and its pacing is incoherent to the point of being confusing. There are many longeurs in the early part of the film and a lot of messy rushing-about in the second part.

Rhys Ifans' Curt Connors/Lizard is a curious choice for a cinematic villain and whilst there seems to be a striving to make him sympathetic in the way Raimi achieved with Dr Octopus in Spider-Man 2, his motivations are unclear and he descends into sociopathic drivelling.

Denis Leary's Captain Stacey is similarly poorly sketched, particularly when compared to Gary Oldman's Jim Gordon in the Nolan Batman flicks.

Neither of these are particularly the fault of the actors, the screenplay never really allows either of the characters to breathe as it concentrates too much of the minutiae of Peter Parker's rebirth as Spider-Man and his romance with Stacy's daughter, Gwen. Notably, both Garfield and Stone come away with the acting plaudits given that their characters are the two that are allowed to breathe and develop through the scope of the film.

The pivotal Uncle Ben sequence also seems curiously rushed when compared to the Raimi version.

The film then, ultimately suffers from the fact that it is undeniably a set up for a longer tale (made most obvious by the mid credits sequence at the end). In some ways, the film is entertaining enough for this to be forgivable but knocks it down a number of notches as a standalone flick (again much like Batman Begins).

The only problem for the filmmakers now is for this to ultimately be recalled fondly, the sequel has be The Dark Knight quality. The origin is told, the throughline has been established - TASM 2 has to blow us away.

When considering how successful or otherwise a film is, we should probably take into account the intentions of the filmmakers. This intends to shock and unsettle its audience with a variety of bizarre and brutal images. It's an endurance test whether the viewer wishes to see it through to the end or not.

It's a perfectly valid use of the form to be shocking for the sake of shocking. Many have presented unsettling images with limited context, from the Film Brat experiments to the Cinema of Transgression of Zedd, Kern and Beth B.

So, artistic intent, then? The film was apparently improvised from a basic outline and you can't imagine that this outline was much more detailed than the synopsis above so it definitely fits the criteria of experimental film.

The aesthetic also suggests so: presented in black and white with minimal dialogue; fractured editing that removes the comfort of a narrative arc; occasionally imaginative camera-work where the zoom moves almost imperceptibly as if to suggest the breathing of an unseen observer ; thoughtful mise en scene in both middle and wide distance shots; no semblance of back story other than the inter-cutting of truckers home movie ; a shift from a black metal soundtrack for the early scenes to an ominous, musique concrete score during the main torment; no schlocky gore shocks; little in the way of titillation. Whilst we are ultimately presented with a hint of explanation, it is one that's obviously open to interpretation but is a denouement of sorts.

There is an intriguing mix of styles to the various scenes. The opening scene is shot in a way that will be recognisable to anyone who's seen a similar scene in porn and the other scenes of the hooker with her various johns are shot in a variety of different ways, one utilising an angle that is generally used by more traditional (read: major studio) directors to film rape scenes (shot slightly from the side, focusing on the victims face to avoid accusations of sensationalism or titillation) another is a shot of a back alley blow job shot in the middle distance and a further sex scene is simply observed.

Understandably, the filmmakers and distributors were delighted by the refusal of the UK censors to provide a certificate for distribution, apparently there is still some cachet to the phrase "Banned in the UK".

Reading the BBFC judgement certainly brings home that they have an apparent belief that a significant majority of the male population of the United Kingdom are closet sexual sadists who will be driven "monkey see monkey do" to re-enact what they see in feature films.

However, their rationale for doing so is open to question and actually strikes me that it gives an insight into the psyches of the people who sit in judgement on our entertainment.

There is much play on the terms "sexual and sexualised violence" and "eroticise or endorse sexual assault" in the write up, what I actually saw in the film does not back this up – the opening scenes of the victim's day to day life aside where she is consensual under financial or addiction duress, there is no suggestion of rape or sexual assault.

If anything, our crazy guy seems to be in awe and fear his captive's sexuality and her careless use of it. To the extent that he has to remove secondary sexual characteristics (hair) to dehumanise the victim to be able to proceed with his actions.

I'd have to say, if you're turned on by The Bunny Game, you have a fairly specialised view in what you consider erotic and should probably seek professional help.

But does it do anything new?

The scenario is an easy one for low budget flicks, psychological torture doesn't need an FX budget and there are myriad, shot on video examples of this very same basic set up. The actual infliction of pain and mutilation again brings to mind Kern or Zedd and by extension GG Allin and Bob Flanagan.

During the central torture, the indoor sequences were strongly reminiscent of the murder scene from Fire Walk With Me and the outdoor scenes in the desert seemed derivative of a variety of flicks, the most notable one that sprang to mind being Nico B's Pig a comparison that is heavily accentuated when the film reaches the titular Bunny Game.

In addition, the amplified-to-distortion screams of the victim way above the volume of the dialogue and music were similar to tricks adopted by the August Underground films, though not as interminable.

The fractured nature of the leaps in time and the wandering of the prostitute from one soul destroying, survival enabling tryst to another reminded me of the opening 15-20 minutes of Simon Rumley's Red, White & Blue without the satisfying coalescence of story as things we are drip fed become clearer.

The ultimate conclusion, with the dehumanised and now quite possibly insane victim laid naked on a cross brought to mind the ending of Bernard Rose's Snuff-Movie, thankfully without the sappy coda.

Ultimately, there is some interesting stuff going on here and the commitment of Rodleen Getsic to her art has to be admired.

I'd recommend it to those who appreciate the challenge of enduring a film rather than enjoying it. As long as they were mindful that, because we're that type, then there's not a lot we haven't seen before. If you're coming into this expecting Cannibal Holocaust, Nekromantik or Serbian Film, it's likely you're going away disappointed, as it's not that type of film.

Interesting enough that my review ran to more than 1000 words and I had to edit it for length - full review with links here: HTTP://beveryafraid.tumblr.com/

John Carter (2012)

A writer reads a friends journal, learning of his fantastic journey to planet of Mars, the warring factions therein and the beautiful princess he loved….hilarity ensues.

Low expectations are an underrated commodity. Given the extremely poor nature of the trailers and the bad press it received, my expectations couldn't have been lower for a flick I still kind of wanted to see.

Though thinking about it, most of the bad press was about the box office rather than the quality of the film, although some of the critic's reviews were very snippy. Seemed like some folks just had it in for Andrew Stanton, although quite why is puzzling. Previous credits being mainly Pixar based, screenplay/story credits on the Toy Story films and director of Finding Nemo and Wall-E. An odd hate figure, to say the least. Maybe he's a horrible person or maybe people just wanted a Pixar alum to fail.

Because, contrary to everything, I found John Carter to be thoroughly entertaining.

I'm not familiar with the Burroughs stories (do have recollections of the 70's Marvel Comics adaptation) so I can't really on its faithfulness to them but the tale is told quite cleverly with some verve.

Probably the biggest thing working against it is that most of Burroughs' best ideas have been filched by other storytellers. A beautiful princess needing to be rescued by a chosen one from a force trying to build an empire, assisted by the machinations of a shadowy figure. A battle on floating airships over a desert. Chained hero fighting large beasties in a rock arena. Any of this ring any bells?

Cripes. Even the energy weapon given to the main villain seems similar to the weapons fashioned from the Tesseract in Captain America and Loki's staff in The Avengers.

So, there's that. Burroughs' ideas have been "homaged" left, right and centre in the 100 years since the first story was written. Unfortunately and probably due to a desire to be faithful to the stories as written, it leaves some of its ideas feeling somewhat second hand.

There are a couple of longueurs where the film could have been tightened up and there are a number of moments where the green screen joins can be seen in the effects (potentially due to rushing to meet a release date) but these are quibbles.

Taylor Kitsch looks the part though a tad lacking in charisma but Lynn Collins gets lovelier the longer the film runs and there is strong support from Ciaran Hinds, Dominic West and the vocal talents of Willem Dafoe, Thomas Haden Church and Samantha Morton. Mark Strong seems to have the SF bald baddie axis tied up and one presumes casting directors come down to whoever's available between him and Hugo Weaving nowadays.

I'd recommend at least one viewing of John Carter for lovers of SF and Fantasy, even for academic purposes when if, like me, you're a Burroughs' virgin. It could be an eye opener how much stuff old Edgar dreamt up.

Martha Marcy May Marlene (2011)

Synopsis: A young woman escapes a cult commune and attempts to reconnect with her sister. Her increasingly erratic behaviour is counterpointed with her experiences in the commune….hilarity ensues.

Might be spoilers…

It makes me feel slightly small, criticising someone who has managed to achieve something that I've never even got close to doing. Particularly when that something is executed as well as Martha Marcy May Marlene is. This review is more an attempt to explain (to myself chiefly but if anyone finds it useful, it's a bonus), why a film I expected to be awarding an 8 or 9 star score only ended up being a 7.

So, let's get the praise out of the way first. The film is technically excellent – although the cinematography is occasionally fuzzy, for a lower budget film it makes excellent use of some distinct locations and scenery.

Elizabeth Olsen and John Hawkes make the most of the meatiest roles on offer but the cast are all uniformly excellent, especially laudable as in some ways the performance supersede the material that the actors have to work with.

The editing and inter-cutting between the "safe" Martha and the imprisoned "Marcy May" are imaginatively handled and provide specific counterpoints to guide an understanding of where the film is trying to go

There's also a definite feel of Durkin adopting the visual language of exploitation cinema, many of the wide vista shots mentioned earlier reminded me of Meir Zarchi's I Spit On Your Grave (1978) particularly the lakeside ones and the claustrophobic interiors of the main commune house had a Texas Chain Saw feel. Given the themes of the film this struck as not being accidental and provides an additional element of fun for those who like to play spot the homage.

You knew this was coming, but…

Technical excellence is one thing. The fact that the film struggles to tell a coherent or believable story is another.

A refusal to drip feed the audience is laudable and the fact that we are offered a choice of believing Martha's paranoia is genuine or a figment of her imagination provides an interesting post screening debate point.

That said, the lack of back story dilutes sympathy for the central characters, why did Martha and her sister's lives turn out so differently when presumably they both had the same experiences up to a point? There is no suggestion that both sisters have ended up in similar situations but from different angles – Lucy's husband is clearly decent, successful and tolerant to a point, albeit slightly dull.

This lack of anchor in the sister's relationships and experiences makes it difficult to understand the situation, leaving the only conclusion being that Martha was already psychologically weaker than her sister.

This leaves the audience with little to work with in terms of sympathy for her situation, other than an obvious empathy with the horror of the cult's rape and brainwashing of its female members but its fairly one dimensional and the characterisation is not far beyond the usual cookie cutter horror film.

The actions of the sister and husband also stretch credulity as Martha's behaviour becomes more and more erratic. Whilst seeing nothing wrong in skinny dipping can be passed off as an eccentricity, when a grown woman curls up on your bed for comfort while you're having sex, it would surely strike you (even as an accumulation of circumstance) that perhaps she's had some bad experiences and needs some professional help.

The fact that the pair only seem to consider getting this help when Martha completely and violently breaks down seems driven solely by the need to get the film to a particular place as opposed to being true to what would actually happen in a situation like this and as a point of conjecture, it becomes increasingly irritating.

The commune is an obvious cipher for the Manson family Barker Ranch, from the leader's metaphysical pseudo philosophy to the "creepy crawlies" to burglarise suburban homes (another slightly clunky plot device that seems to only exist to bring Martha to her tipping point).

It would have been interesting to see an attempt to do something different rather than another rehash of the Manson scenario (in my opinion, done definitively in Jim Van Bebber's film The Manson Family).

In conclusion, the film is a curio, in many ways it's an excellent example of the way cinema can be used as a medium for storytelling in ways other than the ones we traditionally expect but conversely it can be extremely unsatisfactory when the characters and story are frustratingly oblique.

Expect to come away both impressed and dissatisfied.

It passed the time. If I could get away with such a low word count, that would be my capsule review.

This film is a paradigm for movie going the past few years. Derivative and uninspired, miscast and completely nonsensical if you think about it too much.

It doesn't work as heist movie because the central conceit makes no sense: a complex plan executed by clumsy amateurs leaving virtually everything to chance, played out in front of a massive audience (in the film at least). All leading to a cliché ridden, by the numbers conclusion of ludicrous gun-play and a ridiculous denouement, which makes most of the build up completely pointless.

That said, the build up in the early part of the film is very well handled and it only really starts to fall apart once the heist begins.

Most of the cast are good, Elizabeth Banks is convincing in an unfamiliar role and there is solid support from the likes of Ed Burns Anthony Mackie and Titus Welliver, Ed Harris can do no wrong in my eyes, the man is a god amongst mortals and Genesis Rodriguez is gorgeous and convincing.

Problems with the cast are two fold:

1. Sam Worthington, why this guy is considered a box office draw continues to baffle me, it's not that he's bad but he lacks the charisma of a real heavyweight actor who can carry a film purely with his presence. He doesn't really need to, given the quality support he has but he has been decidedly average and unconvincing in everything I've seen him in. Does being in Avatar really count for that much? The accent slips a couple of times too.

2. Why cast actors who aren't even from the US? Again, neither Worthington or Jamie Bell are that bad but there is an element that draws you out of the film when you realise these supposed native New Yorkers are actually Australian and English.

Overall, it passed 90 or so minutes painlessly but brainlessly. Shouldn't we expect more from our entertainment, particularly something that probably considers itself a more intelligent thriller? It nearly gained an extra star from me for having the good grace to get Genesis Rodriguez in her underwear (which probably reflects my age more than anything else) but when that is a stand-out moment, your flick might not be all that.

It's not below or above average, it's acutely and overwhelmingly average and for a flick that supposedly cost $42m to make, that's not really good enough.

The biggest problem with this movie is its pretensions to being a fake documentary. Generally for this to work, the actors have to look and act like real people and the visuals have to be presented as if they are really happening, no matter how bizarre what is being portrayed appears.

It hits problems early on – Fernanda Andrade is way too good looking for us to buy her role and the actors are far too actorly, it's obvious that they are delivering dialogue and not just speaking candidly.

This is at its worst early on both with the "to camera" monologues, the discussion at the school for exorcism and the round table chat in the pub. These are the scenes that are supposed to establish that what we're seeing is real, if we buy that it will make the later scenes more shocking. The lines are delivered as if it were a high school stage play when improvised dialogue around a theme would have worked much better.

In addition, the constant switching of POVs from camera to camera wouldn't be necessary if the footage was real – if you have real footage of an exorcism, why would you cut into it? What's likely to be more visually interesting than someone possessed by a supernatural force? A real documentary filmmaker would present the sequence uncut, warts and all and let it speak for itself.

Because the early scenes don't work and the filmmakers reveal a lack of confidence in their shock footage, it pushes the audience away when we're supposed to be drawn in and ultimately the film has flubbed its trump card. If you can't suspend disbelief that what you are seeing is a documentary then the film as a whole just doesn't work.

Despite the bad press the flick has got, there are a couple of well executed sequences – the main camera view of the first exorcism includes some bizarre imagery and the sequences where we are introduced to the idea of demonic transference by the priest attempting to drown a baby in the baptism font and the same priests suicide are both well realised and presented matter-of-factly.

Unfortunately, by this point we aren't buying the fake doc pretense, these are nothing but nice ripples on a lake of dissatisfaction and overall, despite a very brief running time, the film is actually quite boring.

So, I've seen it twice now and I'm still finding it difficult to articulate just how great this film is.

Usually, with films that are heavily promoted and feature characters that I carry a nostalgic reverence for, there is a fear that I'm going to dislike what has been done with it (and the older you get the greater the reverence for the formative years). I'm certainly carrying this trepidation as the release dates for The Amazing Spider-Man and The Dark Knight Rises close in (although in truth, I'll pay to see anything involving Spidey or Batman at least once).

Not so with Avengers. I wanted to be there on the first day – Marvel Studios have proved their ability to translate their characters into cinema more than adequately with the wit and irreverence that made Marvel my true love during my younger days. All of the Marvel movies to date have been exceptional in their own ways, even the weakest of them (Iron Man 2 imho) had more than enough action and humour to make spending a couple of hours in their company a great way to live your life.

With this in mind, Joss Whedon seemed an inspired choice to manage the first big screen outing and I'd been eagerly awaiting The Avengers since the post credits scene in Thor and my inner twelve year old was giddy with excitement at the teaser after Captain America.

What I didn't expect was just how good it was going to be. And I still can't articulate why but here's a list of elements:

• It is the best parts of all the other Marvel movies multiplied by 1000.

• The characters are all well cast and the actors seem to be enjoying their roles – RDJ isn't allowed to steal the show, Hemsworth keeps up the good work, Evans finds the humour in what could be a dry role it, Sam Jackson is Sam Jackson, Scarlett is filmed from behind in figure hugging leather and gets a character that has the intellectual strength not to have to kick ass to kick ass (if you know what I mean). Jeremy Renner does his best with the weakest written role and only has a couple of scenes to shine.

• Mark Ruffalo as Bruce Banner/Hulk is revelatory. And Tom Hiddlestone? Dude was born to play Loki, he is terrific.

• A plot that makes sense and seems to propel itself forward without the need for any artificial nonsense (although, I'm sure we'll see the joins through its multiple DVD viewings, on the big screen it works and works well).

• Action, action, action. 142 minutes in the blink of an eye.

• HULK! - not too much dwelling on the downside of having a big green rage machine living inside you but proper glee in the smashing potential when it's appropriate.

• Quotable lines aplenty: "I'm going to put you on hold for a second.", "He's adopted.", "Mewling quim.", "…I'm always angry.", "Hulk? Smash.", "Puny God".

It's awesomeness writ large on the big screen. Joy. Cinematic Prozac.

And yeah…I have a girlfriend, she loved it too. So did my three kids and my ex wife is sick cos we're all raving about it and she hasn't seen it yet.

The biggest compliment I can pay it? I am envious of those people who haven't seen it yet, I want another first time.

And I want a Lego Helicarrier Escape playset!

Dammit, I shouldn't have written this, now I want to see it again.

I'll keep this brief.

Awful, awful movie that outrageously wastes its talented cast on a ludicrous sub-Stephen King premise that goes nowhere and has the dumbest ending I've seen in a long, long time.

I think my dog could have written a better screenplay and my dog is an idiot. And I don't have a dog.

Two things I learned: 1. Houses on Rosewood Lane have front and back doors made of plywood that are mounted on hinges made of paper. 2. Bike spokes and pedals are scary now, apparently.

Lesley-Anne Down is beyond beautiful, though. So there's that.

If I could leave you with one piece of advice it would be: "Don't. Just...don't."

Full disclosure off the bat: I am a big fan of Kevin Smith – both his work and the man himself.

This means I have kept the faith through some misfires in the past even when I thought that his radar was slipping – Zack and Miri had a hugely funny opening hour before tumbling into mediocrity and Cop Out was a reasonable homage to 80s action flicks but far too broadly played to tempt me to watch it more than once.

So I was fully prepared for Red State, Smith's first genuine move away from his preferred genre of dialogue heavy comedy, to be another misfire. A brave attempt to do something different but nothing more than that.

I was very, very wrong. Red State is very, very good.

Unfortunately, it's difficult to explain why without giving away most of the films plot and its various twists and turns.

If you're planning on seeing the film (and I highly recommend you do) then I'll leave you with this…

The film has the aura of those bleak, violent movies of the 70s.

The cast are uniformly excellent.

The dialogue is full of profane, quotable lines and is very darkly funny in places.

The shaky cam won't be for everyone but switches to suit the various moods of the drama perfectly.

The twists in the plot may jar for some but to me seemed a more likely way for a situation like this to develop and escalate than movies of this type generally play out.

It is ultimately a very bleak statement on where the USA finds itself in the early part of the 21st century.

SPOILERS AHEAD

The initial premise – of teens lured to their deaths by promises of sex on the internet smacked of Hostel and its countless imitations but is nothing more than an introduction to the bizarre, apocalyptic cult led by Pastor Cooper – believers in an Old Testament, vengeful God and it quickly becomes apparent, insanely and violently committed to their belief in their need to appease this vengeful God. Christ is referenced but there is no sense in a belief in New Testament values.

Whilst the Westboro Baptist Church are an obvious parallel to Five Points and are referenced in the dialogue ("they're sue-ers, not do- ers"), the church and the escalation also carry obvious pointers to Waco and Ruby Ridge (the latter through the violence being provoked by the law enforcement agencies).

The film twists and turns away from the obvious path of this premise into other territory and quickly moves from being just a film condemning fundamentalist religious beliefs to also condemning the equally brutal and psychopathic political manoeuvrings of government agencies.

The most chilling scene, brilliantly played between John Goodman and Kevin Alejandro, involves no actual threat or violence – merely the agent in charge explaining coldly the full horror of the orders he has been given and why he has no choice but to carry them out. It sent a shiver down my spine that thousands of other horror movies have never come close to equalling.

Almost as chilling is the scene between Marc Blucas and Kerry Bishe where a girl attempting to flee the scene is handed a discharged gun and ordered back into the compound at gunpoint as if it was standard operating procedure.

The parallels between human beings killing in cold blooded defence of their beliefs, whether religious, political or simply borne of good old fashioned self interest are many and all are equally horrifying.

The ending is satisfying in a wholly different way, bleak but ironic. A new set of psychopaths are introduced and explain how the situation will simply disappear with blackly comedic dialogue ("Why? Because f*** people like this.").

Smith, lovable egomaniac that he is, takes the last line of the film for himself as a message to Fred Phelps and his ilk: "Shut the f*** up!"

It would be a shame if this was really Smith's penultimate movie as he seems to have found a voice that could do a lot of good for the world and has also carved himself a niche that he can basically do what he wants as long as he does it cheap enough.

Still, I'll believe it when I see it, like when Alan Moore keeps saying he isn't writing any more comics. Knock it off... you love this.

Adam Curtis' recent documentary series disappointed some. Compared to his work on The Century Of The Self and The Power Of Nightmares, it seemed hodge podge, lacking a central framework idea and bouncing all over the place.

After twenty minutes of the first episode, I may have been inclined to agree – the documentary seemed to lack focus and carried over the experimental mix of music and image that had been used so successfully for the interactive theatre piece "It Felt Like A Kiss".

However, having seen the full piece, I now beg to differ. If anything, the series is a broader and more satisfying development of areas touched on in his previous pieces, particularly Century Of The Self.

As with Curtis' other work, it explores the far reaching and (for the most part) unintended consequences of big ideas. In this case, the idea that nature can be explained and entertainingly presents a series of case studies to explore whether this idea is flawed or not.

Unlike his previous pieces, the period under discussion is very recent and the ideas explored so varied that each episode does not really follow a linear timeline and the debates bounce from the 1950s to the 1990s to the 1960s to the present day.

This is a powerful and thought provoking piece, Curtis never comes across to me as polemical and seems happier drawing your attention that things may not be quite as they seem rather than hitting you over the head as he proves everything you know is wrong.

Everything you know isn't necessarily wrong but it may be that you aren't fully informed of all the facts.

The opening sequence may be the the weakest of the series, linking Ayn Rand's ideas of Objectivism to the development of moden computing. However, clever dick that Curtis is, it only becomes apparent with the patience to sit through this that the central character isn't Rand at all but a member of her social circle, Alan Greenspan – who, as chairman of the US Federal Reserve became, through a series of unforeseen events, the most powerful man in the world for a brief period.

The subsequent rattle through the economic crises in the Far East in the 90's and the knock on effect to the current economic crisis in the West (and China's part in it) is eye opening to say the least. And it goes on, finding short degrees of separation from a multitude of players on the world stage, linked by the rise and consequences of ideas relating to systems.

The second episode then explores the theory of self organising networks through cybernetics, eco politics, the geodesic dome, the 60s counterculture, maximum population growth to the Facebook/Twitter revolutions of the 2000s.

I was especially impressed with the final episode exploring the theory of the selfish gene, moving from the initial theory through Anglo- American intervention in the Congo, myths on the origins of the AIDS virus, the Belgians role in the genocide of Rwanda through Richard Dawkins and Dian Fossey.

Fascinating stuff and well worth three hours of anyone's time.

Hard to believe this was directed by the same man who brought us House Of The Dead and the execrable Alone In The Dark. However, it does seem that the previously very estimable Herr Boll is building himself a tidy portfolio of "issue" films to accompany his lacklustre video game adaptations and dreadful "comedies". Using a growing company of relatively accomplished players (Jurgen Prochnow, Edward Furlong, Kristanna Loken, Michael Pare, Matt Frewer)

Prior to this film, I had only seen one of his issue films. Heart Of America, a take on American school violence, it was ambitious but perhaps overreaching. Clunky performances (Brendan Fletcher, excepted), odd shot choices and an ambling real-time screenplay.

It also hugely oversimplified and misunderstood the motivations of the Columbine killers, if they were the inspiration (and considering lead actor Michael Belyea's remarkable physical resemblance to Eric Harris, it's a fair conclusion that it must have been).

Respect for the attempt, nothing more. Certainly nothing that prepared me for Darfur.

Don't be fooled by the advertising or its alternate title, this isn't Billy Zane and the Terminatrix save Africa. Darfur is a powerful, horrible, brutal, gut punch of a film that brings to life the very real and very recent horrors committed during the ongoing Afro-Arab conflict.

There is little in the way of plot, a group of British and American journalists and a Scandinavian aid worker are escorted by a consignment of African Union soldiers, there only in a peacekeeping capacity.

They are taken to a local village where through speaking to the locals they learn of the atrocities that have been suffered. The villagers speak in hushed tones of mass executions, rape with the threat of AIDS and abduction. Whispered atrocities that will soon become a vivid reality.

A consignment of Janjaweed approach the village and although initially confronted by the westerners and the AU force, it is all too apparent that they are impotent in the face of the warmongers, outnumbered and with no mandate to engage.

Forced to retreat and failing in their attempt to pry a small glimmer of hope from this awful situation, one of the group breaks on the journey away from the village and demands to be allowed to return to the scene of the slaughter. To what end, only he knows but he knows that he cannot live the rest of his life knowing that he turned his back and ran away (it is telling that the opening line of dialogue in the film is an American cameraman beseeching for someone to tell him how he can ever go home again – he is alive to tell the tale but at what cost to his psyche and soul?).

There could be a debate about whether Boll's take on this is exploitative, essentially making a horror film about a real life situation – accusations that could levelled fairly reasonably at movies like Men Behind The Sun and Nanking Massacre (I've yet to view Boll's take on WW2 atrocities with Auschwitz).

I fall on the side of nay in this metaphorical debate that I've just invented, the opening period of the film is at pains to paint the villagers as human beings and the atrocities depicted follow those documented by reporters who braved the region albeit using the device of a single village as a microcosm for the genocide.

If there is a criticism, it is that the politics, racism and historical conflict that have lead to this are ignored almost completely. The Janjaweed are presented as nothing more than faceless killers lead by a charismatic Commander (an excellent though underused Sammy Sheik)who could have wandered in from any number of action movies.

Whether the film should address these issues is open to debate.

The film does not blink away from the atrocities – they are depicted frankly and brutally – women are raped and shot, mass executions are undertaken by machine gun, babies are crushed and impaled, those deemed not worthy of a bullet are hacked to death with machetes.

At no point, though, does this feel like an attempt to titillate the viewer with violence, it presents itself to bludgeon and sicken the viewer with its sustained violence for over half of the films running time, there is no attempt to comfort the viewer.

This is how it is. This is what the TV news means when it uses the euphemism "humanitarian crisis".

How do you feel about it? What are you going to do about it?

Despite a fairly unrealistic redemptive coda, the westerners attempts to intervene acts as a metaphor for the West's historically clumsy and misguided attempts to intervene in African politics: impotent and inept, only caring when its too late.

The intervention itself ends savagely also: all are equal in the eyes of genocide.

An aside: interestingly I'd also recently watched Adam Curtis' excellent documentary All Watched Over By Machines Of Loving Grace which, amongst other things, explores the horrific results of America's intervention in the Congo and the Belgian governments' inextricable links to the genocide in Rwanda. Both of these were brought to mind during the westerner's ultimate confrontation with the Janjaweed.

It may well be that the film is simply as impotent a howl of tragic, existential fury as its opening line. How can any of us go home again knowing what is going on and doing little or nothing to stop it?

A final nod to David O'Hara, as excellent as always. Salute, Sir!

One thing is for sure though, you can't dis Uwe Boll any more. He's done more than you have.

Chapeau, Herr Boll, Chapeau.