100-Word Movie Reviews

Alexandre Aja’s debut feature certainly lives up to its name. Taking the classic slasher film, subverting its tropes and ramping up cringe factor, High Tension is one of the flagship pictures of New French Extremity. Beautifully shot, oppressively tense and unflinchingly violent (you’ll never look at a concrete saw the same way ever again), it’s a fresh take on an old favourite: two girls in a country home try to escape the clutches of a murderous madman. It’s satisfyingly chilling, but its conclusion could very well rub you the wrong way, like the smart alecky answer to a trick question.

The first half of Wong Kar-wai’s Chungking Express nails a certain kind of post-relationship aimlessness and abstractness that precious few other films manage to capture. It does so with a mix near-surreal plot devices and striking, off-kilter cinematography courtesy of longtime Wong contributor Christopher Doyle. Its second, more abstract half compliments the first story’s take on loneliness, but also adds discussion the innate strangeness of human relationships to the equation. The film’s loose, melancholy tone can sometimes make one feel that they’re grasping at straws, but overall, it’s a winding, pensive piece of filmmaking and very much worth seeking out.

James Gunn’s Slither pulls an impressive double shift over the course of its brisk running time. One the one hand, it’s a fun throwback to the sci-fi creature features of yore, complete with fleshy, oozy set pieces. On the other hand, it’s a heartbreaking story of separation issues and the effects of a traumatic event on a relationship. Amazingly, Slither maintains its emotional gravitas even when the SFX hit critical mass. Anchored by three very different performances (an oddly touching Michael Rooker, a sweet Elizabeth Banks and a charming Nathan Fillion), Slither is smart, nuanced genre filmmaking at its finest.

Ginger Snaps is not your standard werewolf film. The central conceit of lycanthropy still serves as a metaphor for puberty, but here, the affected party is an outcast teenage girl Ginger, played with admirable verve by Katharine Isabelle. The movie itself is interesting, turning horror film tropes on their ear and touching upon the sexual double standards that exist in the context of high school, but it runs out of steam towards the end. In any case, this is a cult film and for good reason. Had I been a misunderstood 14-year-old goth girl, I would have loved this movie.

Billy Wilder was a true master of the classic American form, deftly combining a sharp directorial hand and a searing wit that could alternate between sweet and sour in a heartbeat. The Apartment may not be Wilder’s finest film (that distinction may still go to Sunset Boulevard), but it’s the film that most seamlessly combines his directorial craftsmanship and both his softer and harsher sides screenplay-wise. As with all of Wilder’s films, the foundation and pacing are rock-solid. Toss in amazing performances by Jack Lemmon, Shirley MacLaine and Fred MacMurray and you have the makings of a bona-fide American masterpiece.

With the possible exception of Richard Williams’ lost masterpiece The Thief and the Cobbler, Katsuhiro Otomo’s Steamboy may be the single most visually ambitious animated film of all time, besting even his own Akira in terms of sheer scope and detail, but not narrative. While Otomo’s alternate steampunk version of the Industrial Revolution is certainly beautiful, the story contained therein is flimsy at best (such is often the case with ambitious films: something has to give). It’s a marvellous visual spectacle that sadly gets close to interminable at slightly over 2 hours. And for God’s sake, avoid the English dub.

Further proof that the Japanese have beautiful melancholia down to a science. Makoto Shinkai is a great stylist, adept with both intricate machinery and pastoral landscapes. As a storyteller, he’s even more unabashedly tragic than usual here. The resolution goes from happy to sad and then tricks you into believing that it may be happy again but the way the story is built, and considering its pet themes of dreams, memory and the inseparable nature of the two, it’s unlikely that that’s the case. It’s a deft display of screenwriting, heart-wrenching without being melodramatic. Call it Summer Wars with pathos.

Thin does not even begin to describe this outing from the venerable Studio Ghibli. Characters are pretty much one-dimensional, the score is strangely invasive and the story itself threadbare and late to shift into gear. Also, casting husband-and-wife team Will Arnett and Amy Poehler as the parents seems like a good idea until you realize that the former sounds like Martin Sheen in Apocalypse Now and the latter’s readings are hit-and-miss. Although, as with all of the studio’s movies, it looks gorgeous: Hayao Miyazaki’s watercolours are unmatched in the world of animation. Ultimately, it’s nice but hardly a must-see.

Not psychedelic enough to be an acid western like Dead Man, Andrew Dominik’s masterful second film is closer to the realm of the abstract western, a film that melds the tropes and grit of the best revisionist tales and to an oniric, dreamlike aesthetic. Thank master cinematographer Roger Deakins for this: he pulls of the impressive task of mirroring the narrative’s lucid-dream style with an equally hazy look. Dominik’s script is expertly paced, and the performances are astonishing all around; Casey Affleck’s Robert Ford is a character of virtuosic meekness. Also of note is the impressive Nick Cave/Warren Ellis score.

This was a good movie in the classical sense: it has an Old Hollywood feel to it and a bunch of good performances. Unfortunately, the script didn’t really match the stakes: this is when TV lost its innocence. A movie that deals with this has to be a bit more feral. It lacked the bite of Network, the ire of Good Night, and Good Luck, or the sardonicism of Broadcast News. It’s solid and polished, but also toothless and padded. Of note, though, are the attention to period detail and the performances by John Turturro, Rob Morrow and David Paymer.