With Tim Milfull
Despicable Me 2 (PG); Monsters University (G)
Director: Pierre Coffin and Chris Renaud; Dan Scanlon
Stars: Steve Carell and Kristen Wiig; Billy Crystal and John Goodman
Rating: 4/5; 3.5/5
90-minutes; 100-minutes, now screening.
It’s hard to
believe that the Monsters franchise began in 2001, rejigging Billy Crystal’s
career as a voice actor and adding another string to John Goodman’s already
considerable bow.
Given its success, it’s surprising the sequel took so long
to get off the ground; then again, Pixar has been busy pumping out hit after
annual hit for the last decade. Technically, the new film is actually a prequel
plunging us into the backstory of two beloved monsters: Crystal’s
fingernails-on-the-blackboard screecher Mike Wazowski and Goodman’s
gravelly-baritone, James P Sullivan. As university students, these two are
sworn enemies: the former a shameless geek; the latter a muscle-bound jock.
Monsters University is undoubtedly fun and a pleasure to take in, invariably
stomping through safe territory.
But where the monsters and their campus surrounds are cast
in soft focus warm colours and textures, the Despicable Me 2 world of former
supervillian Gru (Steve Carell) and his myriad minions is offered in stark
edges, clear-cut colours and a tone that suggests cynical, often black humour
that would never quite fit in a Pixar universe – well, perhaps in the
neighbourhood of The Incredibles, but only just.
In their latest outing Gru and his despicable ensemble are
dragooned out of suburban anonymity – and an underground jam factory of
world-dominating proportions – to flush out another supervillain hiding
undercover in a mall. While I enjoyed Gru’s outing, there’s no denying I relish
the release of the 2014 instalment Minions – for all of Gru’s malicious
posturing, it’s really the minions who get things done!
The Look of Love (MA15+)
Stars: Steve Coogan, Imogen Poots
Rating: 3/5
101-minutes, now screening
In The Look of Love, British director Michael Winterbottom continues his eclectic film trajectory – and a long-running collaboration with actor Steve Coogan – in this biopic about a man who could variously be described as a sultan of sleaze, or as Paul Raymond referred to himself – the King of Soho.
Mostly avoiding Raymond’s early life, Winterbottom and
Coogan concentrate on his meteoric rise in the adult entertainment industry
after finding a way – quite hilariously revealed here – to circumvent 1950s
British legislation that prohibited nude dancing on stage. Raymond subsequently
parlayed this success into building one of Britain’s most successful live
entertainment industries alongside an astonishing collection of inner-London
real estate.
Rather than focus exclusively on Raymond’s predilection for
naked flesh – don’t get me wrong, there are acres of the stuff – the biopic
concentrates more on his personal relationships: from the shrieking failures of
relationships with fellow impresario Jean (Anna Friel), and sex
symbol-cum-writer Fiona Richmond (Tamsin Egerton), to his long-suffering, but
hopelessly self-absorbed daughter Debbie (Imogen Poots). Lurking on the edges
of Raymond’s radar are his sneering legitimate son Howard, an unfortunate Irish
bastard, and perhaps one the sleaziest of characters ever depicted onscreen –
“soft” pornographer, Tony Power (played to glorious effect by The Thick of It’s
Chris Addison).
While Coogan’s Raymond comes across as a charming louche
with a flair for pragmatic rationalisation, I can’t help feeling that even with
his unfortunate daughter’s tragic end, there still could have been a more
honest depiction of the sleazier side of Raymond’s life – particularly
considering that the Kray twins were among his regular clientele.
A very timely expose
We Steal Secrets: The Story of Wikileaks (M)
Stars: Julian Assange, Adrian Lamo, Bradley Manning
Rating: 5/5
130-minutes, from 4 July
There’s a nice irony in the 4 July Australian release of Alex Gibney’s new documentary We Steal Secrets, given the convoluted strands of its narrative and the confluence of recent international intrigue involving Barack Obama’s defence of his new global surveillance measures, the whistleblowing of Edward Snowdon, the trial of Corporal Bradley Manning and Julian Assange’s continuing exile in London’s Ecuadorian Embassy.
One might be tempted to suggest that the film’s producers
couldn’t have timed it better. But in an era where private information has
rarely been more public, there are fewer and fewer surprises.
Using the careful, methodical approach that has brought him
admiration for his past work – including Mea Maxima Culpa: Silence in the House
of God, Freakonomics and Taxi to the Dark Side – Gibney meticulously unpacks
the history of Wikileaks, and the man (well, men really – there are few women
involved outside those caught up in Assange’s peccadilloes) behind this
world-changing organisation. While, Assange has understandably become the
public face of Wikileaks, several other important figures are profiled in
detail, including whistleblower Bradley Manning and his duplicitous accuser,
former geek/hacker, Adrian Lamo – whose portrayal undertakes some fascinating
turns in the film – and the baby-faced and impressively articulate Wikileaks
spokesman, James Ball.
Like Gibney’s earlier work, We Steal Secrets is an important
and utterly engrossing film, exposing the secrets of an organisation whose
ideologically pure motives for freedom of information are tinged by the
pragmatic reality of its availability, particularly in terms of the threat to
innocent civilians. Given Gibney’s long-running success in the field of
documentary, it’s hard not to get a little excited about what intimate dirty
laundry he will air in his next film Lance Armstrong: The Road Back, which will
hopefully expose the disgraced cyclist as a preening hypocrite.
