"And Then Emily Was Gone" Comic Book Review

Fresh off the presses of the vibrant Scottish independent comic-book scene, this comes courtesy of engimatic writer/artist team John Lees and Iain Laurie.

Set in Scotland, it tells the story of Greg Hellenger, an ex-detective whose nightmarish waking visions have cost him nearly everything, as he's set on the trail of the titular Emily - a teenager who vanished on a Scottish Isle under mysterious, perhaps even supernatural circumstances. This is at the behest of her best friend, who has the curious quality of making the nightmares stop. There's also Vin, who has an interesting job, oh yes - and an actual mystery box to be intrigued by (my best guess at this stage is that it's JJ Abrams' head in there...).

It's a genuinely terrific read - Laurie's ever-so-slightly unsettling stylings gives the proceedings a Lynchian, dream-like quality, and Lees' script takes full advantage of its detailed nature, crafting a story where you can't be sure if it's all going to end in grim reality, or an even grimmer fantasy. It's a book that begs to be poured over immediately after you finish reading it, with details scattered about in both the writing and art that threaten us with a complex, disquieting and ultimately satisfying tale to come.

There's also a fascinatingly awful moment of extreme violence that'll completely catch you off guard - bordering on being a darkly amusing anti-joke, it relies on pitch perfect structuring, sly dialogue, and stunning use of contrast to create a most impactful two-page spread that'll stick in your head for quite a while afterwards. It's very much the kind of moment that only sequential art could achieve, and that it's nestled inside such a gem of a story is icing in the chocolate fountain - it's all pretty sweet, and flows magnificently.

The only problem is that it does feel a little slight, but this is down to it being the first half of a first act, so it's hardly fair to hold this against it. The feeling is also a direct result of enjoying it, and craving more - and given that this is indeed a mystery, that's job done, as far as anyone could possibly be concerned. WHAT'S IN THE BOX, GODDAMIT?!

And in such a short space, perhaps the most impressive thing about it is how they've succeeding in creating a fictional horror mythology on a par with the Slender Man for quite how delightfully unsettling it is - flashes of reality interwoven with the fiction to make it just believable enough to make your skin crawl thinking about it, even after you put the book down. I won't mention her here...BONNIE SHAW

...

Because she isn't real.

She isn't real...

She isn't...WHAT THE FUCK WAS THA-

AND THEN ROSS WAS GONE

Post-script: If you want to check out John Lee's other stuff, head to his blog here. If you're up for further perusal of Iain's mind to see what monsters lay inside, check out Mothwicke, Powwkipsie and his previous release, Horror Mountain. You're welcome.

Total Recall (2012) Review

Sometimes, you should really re-consider your title. Or at least, consider it in the first place, because had it not been for the association with the turn of the 90s Paul Verhoven actioner, this could've been held in higher regard, because as an action-orientated adaptation of 'We Can Remember It For You Wholesale', it actually works pretty decently.

Len Wiseman's always been one for boldly-staged set pieces - see his Underworld films, as well as the irritatingly badly written Die Hard 4.0 - and he doesn't disappoint here, with scenes that sweep through a decently realised, if slightly derivative dystopian future. He does, however, retain the sense to keep the films he references within the Philip K Dick adaptation stable - everything from Minority Report to Blade Runner to A Scanner Darkly, as well as Verhoven's effort, are given visual nods. There's simply too many of them for them to really be described as derivative - rather, it feels like an effort to have all of these films take place in the same world. 

Colin Farrell is solid in the lead role, believable as a bunched up and frustrated worker to whom there's more than is initially apparent. Kate Beckinsale - despite her husband's odd penchant for presenting her backside to the world - makes a fun switch from doting wife to futuristic femme fatale, and Jessica Biel, whilst hardly challenged, doesn't really bring anything particular impressive to her role as love interest/competition. It's nice to see Bill Nighy turn up once again in a Wiseman flick, and Bryan Cranston's evil dictator is like Walter White without the moral compass and more kung-fu skills, which is more or less as entertaining as it sounds.

It falters a little towards the end - the script not really sure what to do with itself, with screenwriters Kurt Wimmer (of Equilibrium and Ultraviolet fame) and Mark Bomback (of 'ruining Die Hard' fame) presenting us with possibly cinema's first quintuple agent, and ceasing to make any sense from there, resorting to just blowing shit up in lieu of figuring out its own clusterfridge of a story. The most interesting stuff happens when they attempt to play with the concept of rekall (with a K, no less), but this is ultimately restricted to a tense scene in the middle which sees Farrell's adversaries attempting to convince him that nothing he's done thus far is real.

But the action is fun, the story just about engaging enough to keep you occupied (if Becksale's butt doesn't quite grab you, as Wiseman insists it should), and the vision of the future is pleasingly technophillic. Just don't expect a satisfying resolut-...'Rekall'!! It should've been called 'Rekall'!

Man of Steel Review

If you're going to be making a Superman movie and you want it to be decent, you need two things. Well...three. First of all, obviously, you need Superman himself. Second, some heart - we need to be forming an emotional bond with this character, because otherwise, we just won't give a shit when the third thing starts. The third thing? Action - because what's the point of an invulnerable man if you can't chuck him about a bit?

Sadly, the movie falls shortest in the heart department - though it's clear that the film had more at some point. Whilst Kal-El's exodus from Krypton is examined in detail, his time from landing on Earth to becoming Superman is more-or-less skipped over. You can practically feel Warner Bros - wary of Superman Return's lukewarm reception - breathing down your neck as snippets of this essential part of his story flash across the scene before being abruptly replaced. It ultimately means that Kevin Costner and Diane Lane are required to do quite bit with not a lot - the parental bond that humanises the character given a flashy, high-impact makeover here that smacks more of Spider than Super.

It's a shame, because what is present of that aspect of the story is beautifully scripted - the scene where Martha rushes to school to coax a young Clark, terrified of his new-found power, out of a janitor's closet is rather wonderful. "The world's too big, Mom." I think we can all relate.

There is of course the argument that Superman stories are about nothing if they are not about his heart. But it'd be unfair to say that the film has no heart. It's verging on bare bones, but it's there - hence my cunning use of 'shortest' - a groundwork upon which you are expected to lay your own familiarity with the character. It's difficult to hold this against them, given how firmly embedded our Friendly Neighbourhood Kryptonian is in pop culture's psyche.

It's more than enough to invest you in the action, and as said, there's a lot of it. Thankfully, it's really quite enjoyable - no choppy wire-fu, rubbish CGI Bizarros or forced camera angles here. These are glorious, large-scale, effects-driven punch-ups, with actually rather concerning amounts of collateral damage as various Kryptonians barrel through the toughest human constructions, and humans themselves, like so much tissue paper. Snyder, ever the pop-culture masher-uperer (is that a word? Is now), references everything from The Matrix to the film's own predecessors as he wrecks various locales with gusto.

He also cleverly subverts his own precedent - having filmed both of his previous comic-book adaptations with the stop-starting slow-motion that ostensibly became his trademark, here the action only ever plays out at full speed. Overall, this gives the action a velocity that nicely emphasises our hero's core powers, and serves as a neat counterpoint to Whedon's wit, and Nolan's muscularity.

Cavill is a revelation - not only convincing as a flying man, but making us forget the ones that flew before him. No longer a clean-cut stalwart, this Superman is a something of a dashing rogue (is that... chesthair?!). But he doesn't just bring looks that will have folk swooning the world over - he nails a new physicality of the hero too, a brawler lacking in finesse, little more than instinct and determination overwhelming odds. Then there's a very cute twisting of the whole Clark Kent/Superman dichotomy throughout the film - almost like Goyer was intentionally referencing Tarantino, but I digress - and Cavill plays it brilliantly.

The support is good too, despite Michael Shannon's Zod not quite feeling right - as if he's both taking it seriously, but phoning it in at the same time. Antje Traue's Faora is, surprisingly, the far more effective villain, an entity entirely replete of morals, the ferocity with which she fights for her cause unsettling in the best possible way. Amy Adams is decent as Ms Lane, and Lawrence Fishburne, whilst given precious little to actually do, is actually rather memorable as Perry White.

Final mention must go to the composer. John William's iconic score (you know those first two bars by heart don't you, you nerd) was a tough act to follow, but true to form, Hans Zimmer forges a new musical iconography, and it's a soundtrack that is worthy of purchase by itself.

What's here is great. So indeed, it's not quite what you might've hoped for - it was perhaps a mistake of the marketing that people were expecting blown minds on a scale akin to The Dark Knight - but saying that doesn't do it justice. It's less a reboot, and more a modern clarification of an existing character - throwing an otherwise fully-formed iteration of Superman onto the screen, and creating the foundations of a DC Cinematic Universe whilst it's at it. It does both of these rather triumphantly - keep your eye out for various name drops throughout. Thrillingly shot, neatly written and well performed - even, on occasion, funny - it's far more than we could've possibly asked for, and was more than worth the wait.

The Charlesbearius Hug Grading Scale

The Charlesbearius Hug Grading Scale

In the event that customers feel that the insults provided by our service are 'too mean', a hug will be offered in compensation. These will fall into one of five 'grades' or categories of hug:

Grade 1: This is like getting hugged by a skeleton wearing an inside-out iron maiden, and will only be offered sarcastically.

Grade 2: A standard hug - only enjoyable if you've not had any physical human contact in years. Otherwise, little more than a nuisance.

Grade 3: A decent hug - comforting, encompassing and quite satisfying. Like being wrapped in a nice, thick duvet. If that duvet were a person.

Grade 4: The sort of hug you'd expect to get from a lover. There may be kissing. And nuzzling. Only offered in particular circumstances.

Grade 5: Like getting hugged by Christina Hendricks and her four clones.

Note: hugs are strictly one-time redemption, and have no equivalent cash value.

The gender of the person issuing the hug is pre-assigned. Once requested, there is no taking back of the hug.

Star Trek Into Darkness Review

SPOILER WARNING: It is literally impossible to tell you what I think of the movie without revealing what it has up its sleeve. But seeing as it's now plastered all over the Internet (it's on Wikipedia, for crying out loud), I figure that you, dear reader, are more likely to already know it than not. But for those who haven't yet seen it and wish to remain surprised, read on at your own peril...

Back when I reviewed the first the new Trek movies, I may have breathlessly extolled that JJ Abrams had the chops to become the new Steven Spielberg. With Into Darkness - and Super 8 in the interim, lest we forget - it's clear that whilst I wasn't exactly wrong, the road to that title is a lot longer than anticipated, and there are a few obstacles that he needs to hurdle before we let him grow The Beard.

On the surface, he's certainly built a thrilling experience. The Enterprise has never been so realistically depicted, with action sequences that pack an unprecedented punch - the highlight being a confrontation between two Federation ships that will be difficult to top in terms of scale and tension. It's all accentuated by terrific sound design - thunderous base helps, so choose your cinema wisely - and a beautifully weighted orchestral score. The story, too, is masterfully edited, serving to draw you in with carefully paced reveals that all tie together come the end.

But in spite of this sheen of slickness on the surface, there is a point almost precisely a third of the way through the film where you start to notice that this skin doesn't quite sit properly on its innards. From here, we're given a masterclass in how to give mediocre script work a triple-A makeover in the execution - that Abrams is able to defy the script's downward tug on the film's quality is somewhat miraculous.

Scenarios, both in terms of action and character development, are lazily recycled wholesale from the previous movie - with dialogue that sees our players openly admit on behalf of the screenwriters that they ran out of ideas. It also shares a fair few plot points with The Wrath of Kahn, though with a contemporary twist (Terrorism! We're suddenly relevant again!), and cunningly hidden inside John Harrison's unfolding character arc. Whilst this is the most interesting thing about the film, it also serves to artificially create a twist where one simply wasn't necessary. Yes, Harrison is in fact Kahn, and if you're a newcomer to the franchise, don't expect who or what he is to be properly explained, because lazy script writing. Also, do you remember how Wrath of Kahn ended? Notice any similarities? They tried to trick us by reversing the roles and throwing in some more deus ex machina - as if we hadn't had enough - but fumbled the sleight of hand. Because lazy script writing (And now lazy review writing! It's infectious!).

It's a shame, because performance-wise, there's joy to be had. Of particular note is Benedict Cumberbatch, - alternating between brooding darkly and kicking fifty shades of shite out of Kirk, Spock, Klingons, and anyone else who happens to get in his way. Cumberbatch is actually a revelation in that department - he fights here as a man possessed, scathing his way through his foes with a lithe brutality that serves to compliment Kahn's calm fixation on revenge. His showing is worthy of a newly forged character that tips his hat to the classic villain, rather than this lazy mark-two that ultimately ends up brushed under the carpet - though it's testament to the strength of the performance that it feels this way.

Zachary Quinto's uncanny portrayal of a young Spock is still excellent, and regardless of everything that's wrong with the climax of the film, he does a good job of it, managing to scream the iconic 'Kaaaaaaaaahn!' without shedding his dignity. Zoe Saldana provides the emotional core of the piece elegantly, and Simon Pegg - whilst still sporting an accent worse than Gerard Butler's Irish one - is enjoyably daft as Scotty. Rounding out the headliners is Karl Urban, providing the rest of the film's comic relief with aplomb. Sadly, Chris Pine seems to be under the impression that nobody's watching, playing Kirk on auto-pilot until the denoument, where he suddenly ramps it up to 11. The rest of the cast aren't really given much to do, ranging from painfully under-written, to shameless eye candy - but they all do more than is required of what they're given.

It's not that it's bad. Quite the opposite, there's a lot of fun to be had - as a sci-fi action movie, it more than delivers, with thrillingly kinetic action sequences, spectacular visual effects and in the few-and-far-between moments where the writers actually put some effort in, there's laughs and heartbreak to be had. But as a Star Trek movie, it falls flat somewhat - an echo in contrast to the first film's ballsy shout, meekly following in the footsteps of a now irrelevant predecessor. I'm sure we were promised different.

Iron Man Three Review

In a twist bewildering long-term geeks and nerds the world over, we now live in a post-Avengers world - not only is a movie about four superheroes teaming up one of the most successful films of all time, it's also been celebrated for being...y'know...good. What's more, after its clash of four separate stories, it's lain groundwork for a grandiose second act that bears nothing but promise. First up? Iron Man 3 (or Three...or 'the Third', or whatever the hell you like).

After the sheer scope of the Avengers' hoedown, it's surprisingly pleasant to skim back down to just the one primary hero in shot, and being reminded that Tony Stark will have problems of his own. Particularly after Stark's 'sacrifice play', which - we are informed at the beginning of the movie - has inflicted post-traumatic stress disorder on our hero, and he can't sleep. Couple that with a series of increasingly devastating bomb attacks overseen by a terrorist calling himself 'The Mandarin', as well as a shadowy figure returning from his past, Mr Stark has quite probably seen happier times. As you may have gathered, a dark tone has been set - words like 'shadowy' and 'traumatic' are being thrown about. It's that intense.

Snarkery aside, the story is cleverly structured and carefully paced, neatly balancing the newly introduced darker themes - pride coming before the fall, terrorism, industrial espionage, the whole PTSD thang - with the action-comedy tone of what came before. Most intriguing, however, is a mostly armour-free middle act that could've been a complete drag, even going so far as to have a mission where Stark's only tools are the contents of a local hardware store. It carries this coup off with aplomb, however - the emphasis on improvisation, adaptation and some good-old soul-searching brilliantly showcasing our hero's actual superpower. This also allows for a slow reveal of the Mandarin as both more and less than what he appears - genuinely, this is one of the biggest joys of the film: a most ingenious interpretation of a classic Marvel villain that subverts, twists, combines and stretches, but somehow fits perfectly within their new cinematic canon.

New director and co-writer Shane Black's fingerprints appear throughout - touchstones seemingly lifted directly from the cutting room floor of Black and Downey Jr's previous collaboration, Kiss Kiss Bang Bang. The dialogue has taken a silver-tongued turn towards Black's personal brand of quirk - to which Downey Jr is perfectly suited, let it be known - and he also retains his proven stylistic pretensions, giving the darker aspects of the story a deliciously noire-ish feel. This is particularly evident in its development of Pepper Potts from damsel in distress (in heels), to femme fatale (in track pants), with Black coaxing a fierce performance from Paltrow that surprises and thrills (and as evidenced by my choice of poster at the top, might be my favourite thing in it).

Elsewhere, Downey Jr is Tony Stark - if they intend to replace him at any point, they're going to have their work more than cut out. There would be more to say if he had put a foot wrong - but even with a slightly grimmer character to grapple with, his performance effortlessly adapts. Ben Kingsley is...eh...in the film. To say more about his performance is to spoil quite what makes it so good, so we'll move on. Guy Pearce is wondefully sly as industrialist Aldrich Killian, 'before' and 'after' aspects of the character juxtaposing mouse against snake. The transition is believable, and he does his fair share of service to the plot. Rebecca Hall, Don Cheadle and Jon Favreau are very much plot fodder, though they all do better than relatively under-written roles warrant. Best of the rest is James Badge Dale as First Henchman™, lip-lickingly evil and very much the deserving recipient of a comeuppance.

Come the end of it. the very best thing about the film - as I've been hinting at - is the way that it doesn't quite play out how you think it might've. The narrative heads roughly down the expected path, but there's a couple of surprising turns come the end of the second and third acts that really speak volumes about quite how bold they're being with this whole thing. And it works - it's a great sequel, both to The Avengers, and to Iron Man 2, and an exciting, darkly humourous ride in its own right. Plus I was late seeing it, so if you haven't seen it at this point...what exactly have you been doing with yourself? See it. Again, if you have to.

Warm Bodies Review

When it comes to the zombie apocalypse, romance is hardly on the cards. Yeah, you can meet someone nice, and yeah, you'll have a whale of a time trying to survive, but social connections formed in apocalyptic scenarios are invariably based on desperation and little else, bringing together folk who might otherwise have never interacted. The genre - for all its horror trappings - feeds off of these mismatches in unforgiving circumstances to create engaging human drama. The zombies are set dressing - horrible, flesh eating set dressing, yes, but set dressing nonetheless. They're not meant to be engaged with. Are they?

Imagine, if you will, my conjecture being vocalised in an abandoned bar to you, my fellow survivor. Suddenly, the door crashes in, and in shambles a zombie, a sticker with 'Hi! My name is Warm Bodies!' on its chest. But instead of trying to open our skulls like tinned chilli, he takes a seat, and tries to answer that question. Sums up the movie, really.

Back to reality, with its male romantic lead a zombie, it's a clear attempt to take a fresh approach on no less then two genres. The mythology has obviously been adapted accordingly - one can hardly have a romance without a spot of spurning your brethren in its pursuit - and here, they're divided into two subsets. The first are the walking social commentaries featured in Romero's films: retaining some sense of who they were, and when not feasting on cerebellum, they're emptily going through the motions of a life half-remembered. Then there's the 'bonies', eyeless bags of bone and sinew, beyond saving and devouring anything with a heartbeat.

It's an interesting play from the writers, and from a script point of view, it's difficult to fault beyond proceeding exactly as you might expect it to. So much so that I'm skipping sumarising the plot as a challenge to any reading this! This isn't restricted to the narrative either, with a few of the jokes only really funny because they may have crossed your mind when you were watching the same situation played straight elsewhere.

But the laughs are there to be had - several, in fact, and good ones too - with the cast making a decent job of it. Nicholas Hoult and Rob Corddry's comic timing - and that's pretty much all they've got at their disposal here - are the stars of the show, bouncing off each-other and co-star Teresa Palmer enjoyably enough to buoy her enticing but ultimately uninteresting portrayal of The Girl (TM). John Malkovich is on autopilot in his role as the merciless military commander of the survivors - even the addition of Over-Protective Father (TM) hardly challenges him - so if you're hoping for something as fun as his turns in RED or Con Air, you'll need to keep looking. The rest are unremarkable, but never bad.

The almost inevitable let down is in the execution. Whilst it's entirely competent from a technical standpoint, there was an decision made to open it up to the audience that it shares bare plot bones with - human falls in love with supernatural creature, and you can read that however you like. The result, stylistically, is a removal of bite from the human/zombie interaction. It's completely bloodless, and lacks a single proper scare - earning a 12A from the BBFC, the horror tagged as 'moderate'. Seeing as the horror is what would ostensibly be the forbidden aspect of this love story, this in turn undermines the romance, leaving the comedy to do the bulk of the entertaining, and this can't quite fill the two gaps. It's a story that, had they made the horror aspects horrifying, could have been an unexpected delight.

Furthermore, the lack of horror is a curious decision insofar as it's a clear pastiche of the supernatural romance - taken to a logical extreme, as pastiches invariably are. To open it up to the audience you're winkingly ripping into, and completely de-clawing your movie in the process, is bordering on madness.

It's also a touch too long, meandering between plot points without any sense of urgency or threat, and it verges on outstaying its welcome in the flat finale. There's a tight, funny, blooded movie in the vein of Zombieland and Shaun of the Dead to be had from this story, and it's disappointing that this one squanders a good portion of its potential.

Still, the ideas at its core are good, it's at least competently executed, and the comedy does work, even if you're mouthing the punch lines as they're projected. It's a shame the other two aspects of the story are so toothless, caught in a viscous cycle stemming from a business decision. But this is Hollywood, so having your figurative guts ripped out so more people will see you is par for the course. That the carcass is still entirely watchable is a testament both to the strength of the idea, and to the two male leads' zombified chemistry. Not one to rush out and see, but worth a look down the line.

The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey Review

The time has come once again, young friends, to grab your walking stick, saddle up your pony (who's hopefully called Bill) and prepare for a trek through Middle Earth once again - for the first of Peter Jackson's latest string of Tolkien adaptations is upon us, and thankfully, whilst it's not an absolute triumph, it's entertaining enough to keep your eyes glued to the screen.

If you're unfamiliar with the close-to-legend plot of the Hobbit, do yourself a favour: stop reading this review, and go buy a copy of The Hobbit. This'll still be here when you're finished. But for the lazy: wizard recruits titular little person to aid a group of thirteen other little (but slightly bulkier) people in their quest to reclaim their kingdom from the dragon what nicked it. Or to put it another way - it's another movie about fucking walking from the fucking Shire to a fucking mountain in the east.

Don't let the pithy plot summary dissuade you, though, as Mr Jackson has done a sterling job of fleshing out the plot of the book - and whilst superficially, the plots are similar, there's a lot of emphasis placed on the telling, rather than the plot turns themselves. The embellishments on the six chapters of the novel that this, the first of three movies is based on is pleasing enough, mercilessly foreshadowing the dark times to come, and expanded on a few passingly-mentioned characters, upgrading Azog the Goblin from a long-dead enemy to a secondary antagonist, as well as an expanded role for Radaghast the Brown. As Gandalf muses at the start of the film: 'all good stories deserve embellishment', and whilst they may not sit entirely comfortably with Rings enthusiasts and scholars, in terms of the films structure, they work wonderfully.

Stylistically, the change between the Lord of the Rings and The Hobbit films is similar to the books - The Hobbit playing lighter and with a touch more humour about it, which Jackson translates to film elegantly whilst still maintaining his penchant for the visually epic and arresting. It doesn't quite reach the highs of the first of his previous trilogy, thanks to a relative lack of investment in the characters, and a strange bloodlessness that removes any real sense of threat. They're still visually arresting, and not without a touch of wit, but there's nothing that can quite match the Mines of Moria sequence here, despite their best efforts.

From a technical standpoint, it's difficult to say exactly where I sit. 3D here is as perfunctory as it ever was - though there are a couple of moments where it's used to good effect, it still feels like a lame excuse to charge more for the entry fee. It is, however, the crispest 3D I've experienced since Avatar, thanks to the 4K resolution and high frame-rate filming. Unfortunately, this added fidelity can on occasion draw attention to the seams in...well...everything. From the irritatingly obvious join between actor's skin and skull-cap on Dwalin's head, to the almost toy-like quality of the various weapons wielded - now that we can see every tiny detail of a scene, it's easier than ever to have your suspension of disbelief come crashing back down to earth. The sheer breadth and majesty of Jackson's vision, as well as the absolutely stellar CGI work, go a long way to mitigating this, but as stated, such little irritations can prove distracting.

Fortunately, the film is strongest when looking at it from a performance point of view - assisting in drawing your attention away from the visual oddities. Particular credit should go to James Nesbitt, Ken Stott, Dean O'Gorman and Aidan Turner, all bringing stoic turns with just the right amount of humour to their respective dwarves. Martin Freeman is great as Bilbo, and his scene with the always fantastic Andy Serkis - returning as Gollum - is as pitch perfect a rendition as one could possibly hope for. Richard Amitage is perhaps a touch flat as Thorin Oakenshield, and the rest of the dwarves aren't really given enough screen time to really appreciate.

The most inspired bit of casting, however, must go to Slyvester McCoy as Radaghast - a shambling living earth-pile of a wizard who none-the-less displays the spryness of his less disheveled counterpart Gandalf - who is still elegantly played, less grumpy this time, by Ian McKellen. Whilst his scenes are almost entirely the creations of Jackson, Walsh and Del Toro's screenplay, McCoy plays them with a sly absent-mindedness that belies an over-active mind and his presence is missed after he vanishes about half way through the movie.

Overall, An Unexpected Journey isn't quite the tantalising prospect of adventure that The Fellowship of the Ring was - in part due to it all feeling a little bit like a retread with less blood and more slapstick comedy - but it's still hugely enjoyable, and even though it's a stately 169 minutes long, it never feels it, and come the end, Smaug's desolation in December 2013 can't come fast enough.

Skyfall Review

Carrying a legacy is no mean feat, by any stretch of the imagination - and it's more difficult than one might be able to conceive if that legacy is the James Bond film franchise, in it's 50th anniversary year. Couple this with a Bond whose appearance has divided critics and audiences alike, along with it being a follow-up to the relatively lacklustre Quantum of Solace, and you'll begin to get a sense of just how much was riding on Skyfall.

It's a relief to report, then, that Sam Mendes has absolutely nailed it. There are a couple of snags at script level, but ultimately, this is an absolute return to form for the franchise - an ensemble cast that's never been finer, a story that neatly subverts a few stale tropes as it establishes a new status quo, whilst at the same time acknowledging the 50-year-old legacy that preceded it with a degree of subtlety that's almost unprecedented.

It may have initially seemed like an odd choice for director, given his previous films - but Mendes is a genuine revelation as an action director. From the initial chase sequence that ticks every box you could imagine - cars, motorbikes, parkour and trains - to guerilla warfare in an abandoned old house, every beat of action is exciting, entertaining and above all, gloriously captured by Roger Deakins. The film's crowning moment - at least in my not-so-esteemed opinion - is the set piece involving Bond trailing and ultimately confronting an assassin in a glass office. A masterstroke of effectively setting tension before an action sequence, and then properly framing it - there's some cat-and-mouse play as Bond hides in the reflections in the glass, and the subsequent fist-fight between the two is done in a single slow zoom, silhouetted by the blue neon sign on the building behind them. It's one of those 'wow' moments unique to cinema, and I challenge you to sit through this scene without your jaw knocking out the person sitting in front of you.

What's great about the direction is that there's an effort to connect Craig's newer, grittier Bond with the suave aloofness of Brosnan, Connery and Moore. Little details abound in each scene and set-piece that link the four portrayals together. There's also some interesting questions raised about just how useful an individual like Bond is in the age of digital intelligence. As Ben Wishaw's new incarnation of Q puts it: "I can do more damage on my laptop, sitting in my pajamas, before my first cup of Earl Grey than you can do a year in the field. But sometimes, a trigger needs to be pulled". The conclusion it draws? Very useful indeed - but that's the rub of the piece, and you should see it yourself for just how it comes to this.

Performance-wise, Daniel Craig continues to do his best to become everyone's new favourite Bond, and as said, there's a real effort, both from Mendes and from Craig himself to connect the blunt instrument of Casino Royale to the sophisticated, dapper agent that we were used to before he rocked up. Javier Bardem is deliciously unsettling as Silva, the villain of the piece - he's a nod to the slightly camper days of old, but coupled with a disturbing twist that creates a genuinely memorable villain. Judi Dench provides no evidence against the ostensible fact that she can't put in a bad performance as M, and welcome additions to the cast in the form of Naomi Harris and Ralph Fiennes help round out what is a fantastic ensemble.

It's perhaps a bit of a disappointment that the story sags a little in the middle, but this is mainly due to an unreasonable number of intriguing plot threads being juggled rather deftly, and physics dictates that there's going to be some form of inevitable downward motion, so it's easy to overlook this when taking the film in in its entirety. Less forgiveable is the glossed-over motivation of Silva, which feels a little too-quickly explained and poorly emphasised. It would've perhaps been more interesting to make him a Joker-like character - "Some men just want to watch the world burn" - rather than try to hastily cram an explanation into expositionary dialogue. Still, Bardem's interpretation of the character is so strong, so beautifully off-putting, that you'll simply be glad he gets to clash with Bond at all.

Ultimately, these two minor hiccups do prevent the film from taking its place alongside the likes of Goldeneye and Goldfinger - but the gap isn't exactly what one might refer to as large. It's exciting, it's engaging, it's thoughtful, and it's iconic, with a best-yet performance from Mr Craig. See it, and - if you're like me - see it again shortly afterwards.

Looper Review

Warning: Mild spoilers-by-inference contained within.

Perhaps the key to making a successful sci-fi film is to ensure that no matter how grand your ideas get, you always ground them in a relatable reality. Avatar was grounded by the incredible detail in its special effects. Moon was grounded by an incredibly human performance from Sam Rockwell. Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (yes, it counts as sci-fi) was grounded by its central love story. And The Matrix? That was grounded by centralising an all-too-inevitable conflict between humanity and artificial intelligence.

After the event, the fact that Looper has been even mentioned in the same breath as The Matrix is somewhat confusing - there isn't a single shade of the Wachiowski brothers' opus here.

The story goes that in 2074, time travel is invented, but is immediately outlawed. That of course doesn't stop criminals from putting it to nefarious means, using the technology to circumvent their time's ability to track corpses - hurling people they want dead back in time to be murdered by people known as 'loopers' in 2044. When the time comes to end a looper's contract, they are sent back to get killed by themselves for a retirement-grade payday - a process known as 'closing the loop', and hence the name of the job.

If anything, this should've been coined as Back to the Future's psychotic younger cousin - it's newer, angrier and a whole lot more complicated. But the key difference that sets this apart from The Matrix - and indeed Back to the Future - is that the latter two work. Sadly, Looper does not.

At least, not fully - I'm not necessarily saying that it's without merit. The central premise of time-travel as a means of assassination is one of the best ideas to be committed to film in quite a while, and it gives way to an astonishing sequence involving one of the titular loopers, his future self and a surgery table that is beautifully unsettling. If nothing else, it proves that Rian Johnson has come into his own as a director - everything is handled with a dark, dry sense of humour that has come to be his unique selling point even in the disappointing The Brothers Bloom.

Joseph Gordon-Levitt and Bruce Willis are also fantastic as the present and future versions of Joe, with Gordon-Levitt in particular nailing the speech patterns and mannerisms of a 1980s Bruce Willis. This, coupled with the extensive make-up disguising him, makes for a compelling dynamic between these two aspects of the same character, and the best character moment is shared between the two in a Pulp Fiction-style stare-down in a remote diner. Jeff Daniels is laconically menacing as the mob boss who runs the loopers, and Noah Segan's bug-eyed secondary antagonist is a spluttering, incompentent joy to behold - the indignation when he's asked if he's blown off his other leg is fantastic.

But despite the best efforts of everyone involved, the movie ultimately comes to rely on three central conceits that aren't particularly grounded. The first is that the film's take on time travel is not particularly consistent - not being able to choose between Twelve Monkeys' approach of one set timeline in which everything has already happened, and BttF's multiple timeline's approach. The stuff involving telekinetic powers is clearly just shoe-horned in to up the visual spectacle, and could've easily been excised whilst preserving the narrative.

The final, crippling conceit, however - and this is the one large spoiler that you may wish to avoid - is the fact that the loopers are armed with weapons that cannot fire further the 15 feet. It's frankly ridiculous, and never properly explained - 'just because' is the best Johnson can come up with - but two of the film's major set pieces (including the chaotic finale) rely on this fact, and it completely undermines the joy of the admittedly spectacular sequences.

Disappointing would be the word of choice on this one, though a part of this is the comparisons with The Matrix colouring my expectations. But even discounting this fact, the best that can be said about it is that it's an admirable mess, much like The Brothers Bloom that preceeded it. Johnson has a real talent for direction, but it's possible that self-indulgence is getting the better of him, and it may be time for him to direct something that he didn't write himself.

But it's still certainly worth a look - the performances are great, the premise sound and inconsistencies aside, the story progresses in a relatively satisfying manner, with some excitingly played set pieces. It's also darkly amusing to boot - it's just such a shame that the story doesn't hold up to closer scrutiny. Have a pinch of salt ready, but otherwise, there are worse ways to spend two hours at the movies.