Mr Brooks

Unlike some of his fellow stars from the big movies of the 1990s, such as Tom Cruise and Tom Hanks, Kevin Costner has struggled to escape from his career defining roles of that period. Perhaps more so than the two of them, it is hard to see anyone else but Kevin Costner in his roles. Some of his harshest critics have said that he simply can’t act. But then came Mr Brooks. This is an eerie American Psycho-esque serial killer film. Perhaps following Robin Williams’ dark turn in One Hour Photo and Insomnia, Costner decided to do the same. He is suitably creepy in this role, for the vey reason that he is Kevin Costner. Unfortunately, however, there is a lot about this movie that doesn’t make much sense. A much better film could have been made here, but it was sacrificed to some tired cliches, and some unnecessary side-plots and characters. Apparently the intention was to make a trilogy, and you can see there was some potential here, but poor performance at the box office put an end to that. It is a shame, especially as most money in Hollywood is being pumped into super hero franchises rather than original stories, but equally the writers here could have done so much more with this (or rather so much less), to have made a compelling film and character that people would’ve wanted to see again and again.

Rogue One: A Star Wars Story

I find it almost impossible to give a truly critical appreciation of this film (or perhaps any Star Wars movie). The amount that's been written about it already makes any comment I might have either inevitable or insignificant. After all, even the trailers for new Star Wars films are analysed over agonisingly (see comments about the trailer of The Last Jedi for proof). There is something in particular about Rogue One, however, that makes it difficult to assess. Although I'm sure the writers/director aimed for the film to be able to stand on its own in some way, it can never really do so, and certainly not for someone who's seen the original films many times. Rogue One is so inextricably bound up with A New Hope that you can't pull them apart. Yes, the plot sort of makes sense on its own, but from the bigger picture of the Death Star, the rebellion, Darth Vader himself, right down to characters glimpsed on the street, games played in the background, and homes built in the same style, you can't escape the original Star Wars here. Even the word 'hope' becomes the key theme of this film. So, I would like to say that the acting is not brilliant, that some of the speeches are poorly written (particularly Jyn's speech before battle), and that the CGI characters are unnecessary and distracting. Nonetheless, the interweaving with the original film is so cleverly done, and in a way that it adds to but does not detract from it, that none of these criticisms seem to matter. The film is almost like an annex to another book. It gives you all the information you wanted, but leaves you wanting just enough more, and leaves you wanting to return to the original again. Give that this, I guess, is what the creators of the film intended from the start, then we have to say they've done an amazing job.

Blue Jasmine

Woody Allen has always had a difficult relationship with California. I think it is half-expressed and half-suppressed in this film starring Cate Blanchett. She is absolutely outstanding as 'Jasmine', a New York socialite who has fallen from grace. I can't say much without ruining the film entirely for you. Needless to say, she ends up in California with her sister. Is the choice of location deliberate? Is it where, in Allen's eyes, New Yorkers go to die? Even in Annie Hall we had this dichotomy. Or is it just an innate uncomfortableness that Allen has with the location that seeps through onto the screen? The typical musical montage of beautiful sites, that we're used to from New York (and more recently London, Paris, Barcelona), feels half-hearted and empty here in California. And it's when we flash back to Jasmine's recollections of life on the East Coast that the film suddenly feels alive again. This is where Allen is at his most comfortable. Fifth Avenue. Central Park. The Hamptons. The music, the movement and the people seem to fit better here.

The film itself is superb, if somewhat too short - which is itself a rare blessing with cinema nowadays. It feels like a study piece that could easily be extended. The dialogue is slightly awkward in places, either because the writing is artificial or the acting not pushed to its limits. There are some clear, crude exposition speeches and convenient meetings that perhaps could have been worked out. I don't know if Allen's self-imposed film-a-year routine helps or hinders in this respect. But the twists and turns of the plot are sudden and unexpected, and I would easily rate this as one of his best films of the last ten years (although admittedly I haven't seen all of them).