Safe Haven

Tiptoeing its way into UK theatres a whole fortnight too late (apparently it was scared off the coveted Valentine’s Day slot by “A Good Day to Die Hard”), “Safe Haven” is a Nicholas Sparks adaptation like any other. Based on his bestselling 2008 weepy of the same name, it marks the eighth occasion on which a Sparks novel has made the leap from page to big-screen — a near-annual tradition sparked in 1999 with the Kevin Costner/Robin Wright romance “Message in a Bottle" — and, coming fresh off the assembly line, it proudly ticks all the expected boxes: a mawkish story of love against the odds, it’s up to its neck in maudlin melodrama, drenched in heart-wrenching tragedy, soundtracked by soothing acoustic strums and, as it’s set against the glowing backdrop of blinding sunsets, is exceedingly well lit.

So closely does it stick to the Sparks movie formula that it almost descends into self-parody, as if director Lasse Hallström (once Oscar-nominated for “The Cider House Rules”) is slyly mocking the niche with which Sparks has made his name — if only there were oppressive, disapproving parents integrated into the plot, then it would be a full house of the author’s hackneyed clichés. Even the poster, in which our two leading lovebirds cling to each other’s faces in a passionate embrace, is almost entirely identical to that of “The Lucky One,” the last Sparks adaptation, released last April. That one boasted the smouldering good looks of Zac Efron and Taylor Schilling. This one boasts Julianne Hough (“Footloose”) and Josh Duhamel (“Transformers”), two impossibly attractive actors who appear to be doing this as an advised career move rather than as a passion project — hey, “The Notebook” worked wonders for a certain Mr Gosling.

She is Katie, a big-city runaway who flees to the sleepy coastal town of Southport, North Carolina to escape her troubled past and start afresh. He is Alex, the local hunk and father-of-two who manages a convenience store and whose wife has conveniently died of cancer (another Sparks trope — incurably diseased loved ones). After Katie gets a job waitressing at the local fish house and rents a creaky cabin in the woods (the sight of which made me think I’d really rather be watching “The Evil Dead"), romance blossoms between the pair as they take long walks on the beach together, take a ride in a canoe and get caught in the rain — as bland as it sounds, and is, Hough and Duhamel do admittedly share a warm chemistry.

Livening up proceedings is a parallel plot involving Kevin (David Lyons, “Revolution"), a slimy cop who, in the film’s opening, pursues a petrified Katie before she sneaks onto a bus out of Boston. For reasons initially unknown, this boozing law enforcer is hell-bent on tracking Katie down, a task which sees him — in a bizarre, career-torching move — mocking up posters falsely claiming that she is wanted for first-degree murder. This gives the film the status of a stalker thriller very much in the vein of “Sleeping with the Enemy,” and is damn near the only thing in the film that is remotely interesting, if only for the logic-stretching absurdity of Kevin’s boundless obsession.

Well, that is until the final few minutes, during which an eye-popping revelation about a seemingly trivial supporting character is sure to inspire both howls of laughter and exclamations of bewilderment from confounded audience members who didn’t predict it the minute said character appears on-screen. I shan’t detail much other than to say that it is a bonkers, hilariously misjudged plot twist that is completely out of place with the rest of the film, altering its tone, mutating its genre and bending its reality, as well as bafflingly paying tribute to the works of M. Night Shyamalan — you’ll see. The best Sparks adaptation remains the engaging “The Notebook,” which is hailed by many to be a modern classic of its genre. “Safe Haven,” while perfectly harmless, is just another in a long line of dead-eyed imitations.

4/10

The Twilight Saga: Breaking Dawn - Part 2

In bringing the story to a neat and tidy close, the eagerly awaited fifth and final chapter in the monstrously prosperous, perpetually polarising “Twilight” saga is a sound success: it deals with the badguys, ties up dangling narrative strands, brings a sense of closure to the heroes and provides a glimpse of what the future holds for them. In that sense, “Breaking Dawn - Part 2” is about as pleasing a conclusion to the fantasy romance series as any hardcore fan could possibly yearn for. But that’s the easy part: all that needs to be done to satisfy the fanbase is to stay true to Stephenie Meyer’s award-winning bestseller with as few diversions as possible, and the devotees will booze upon its blood like vampires at a damsel’s throat.

The hard part, and it’s a ploy that director Bill Condon (returning from “Breaking Dawn - Part 1”) and franchise screenwriter Melissa Rosenberg may have not even considered attempting, is attracting the rowdy detractors and casual non-enthusiasts over to the fans’ side. In a rousingly barmy climax ripe with earth-shattering carnage, the film almost achieves this, but a misjudged surprise twist snatches it away in an instant. The only other things left for consumption are running features for which the franchise has been cruelly, and sometimes fairly, mocked: those would be the risible dialogue, the dodgy computer effects, the ceaseless melodrama and the cardboard box acting, none of which is likely to bewitch non-fans into finally giving a hoot about pasty-faced bloodsucker Edward Cullen (Robert Pattinson) and human-turned-vampire lover Bella Swan (Kristen Stewart).

Nonetheless, part two of “Breaking Dawn” is better than last year’s part one, which spent two thirds of a padded runtime acting as a glorified, workaday soap opera — the forbidden couple tie the knot, consummate their marriage in a picturesque honeymoon suite and discover to their shock that they are to have a baby — before a 12A-pushing third act took the franchise kicking and screaming into the icky realms of David Cronenberg’s body horrors. Bella, drained of her strength and gaunt as can be, gave birth to a half-human, half-vampire hybrid baby questionably named Renesmee. To save his sweetheart’s life, Edward turned Bella into the undead. Now, in “Breaking Dawn - Part 2," she awakens, transformed and reborn, her eyes an inhuman blood red.

Indeed, no character in this epic finale — Bella’s oblivious dad (Billy Burke, “Drive Angry") aside — is free from the red-eye effect that naturally accompanies vampirism, nor the orange-tinted irises of lycanthropy; with Bella now one of them, we lose our all-important human gateway into the weird and worrisome supernatural world. Instead, we watch as Bella experiences life as a “newborn,” experimenting with her newfound abilities: in an early scene, she tackles a mountain lion in mid-air and feasts on its jugular; in another, she and Edward engage in super-destructive vampire sex in a cosy cottage without breaking a sweat. It’s cruelly ironic that Stewart, once a lip-chewing sulk, is more alive playing a member of the undead than she ever was when playing a human being.

There’s a problem with Renesmee that’s not her goofy name or curious physical features (as an infant, she’s a hideous CG creation that dwells at the deepest point of the uncanny valley): she’s growing at a rapid rate, and when law-enforcing vampire coven the Volturi are made aware of her existence, they’re none too happy. Believing her to be a much-feared “immortal child,” they promptly recruit an army of fanged foes to do battle with the Cullen clan in Washington. The Volturi’s sadistic leader, Aro, is again played by a campily sinister Michael Sheen, whose maniacal giggle upon first setting eyes on little Renesmee is sure to send a shiver down many a viewer’s spine.

Warned of the impending attack by psychic sister Alice (Ashley Greene, “The Apparition”), Edward and Bella begin assembling an army too. In an overlong, glacially paced sequence, they gather vampire clans from all over the world: joining forces are Americans, Egyptians, Amazonians, the Irish, Romanians, etc. Notably, some members of this new ensemble have abilities not typically associated with vampires; one can control the elements, able to spurt fire from his fingertips and construct walls of water, while another has electrically charged arms. Bella discovers she can concoct protective shields with her mind. They’re like the X-Men of the Abercrombie and Fitch world.

Also offering a helping paw is the local werewolf clan, led by ab-tastic hunk Jacob Black (Taylor Lautner), whose infamously suspect love-bond with young Renesmee is smartly handled with a good deal of humour (though the inescapable creepiness remains firmly intact). In their hairier forms, the digitally rendered wolves still struggle to convince as a weighty physical presence, but the real computer-generated clanger of “Breaking Dawn - Part 2” is the super-speedy running of the vampires, who sprint through the forest followed by a strange, elongated blur, strongly resembling Shaggy and Scooby-Doo when they would clamber down those endlessly repetitive corridors. One wonders why a fantasy series so financially endowed has such a seemingly limited effects budget.

And then one realises that most of it has likely went into the hotly anticipated climax, which at first appears to be cleverly subverting the much-maligned anti-climax of Meyer’s book. Diverting from the source material’s actionless version, this ending is big, bold and decapitation-heavy, as the Cullens and co face off against the cloaked Volturi atop a vast snowy plain. Coming after an hour’s worth of largely uneventful tedium, it’s a genuinely thrilling sequence with a giddy lunacy to it and an aftermath that looks like the Headless Horseman of Sleepy Hollow had a field day. Unfortunately, a final, admittedly unforeseeable twist undoes all this good work, making for a hard slap in the face for those who thought the “Twilight” franchise had finally grown a pair and shone a middle finger to Meyer’s original text. Alas, ‘twas but a dream.

To be fair, catering only to the fans may well have been Condon and Rosenberg’s plan all along, and the Twihards will no doubt cherish every second of this finale’s overstretched runtime. Others — be they newcomers or “haters” — will be bored and baffled by much of “Breaking Dawn - Part 2," which does little in the way of altering negative opinions about the franchise’s merits. It’s a shame that the “Twilight" saga never managed to achieve the undying universal appeal enjoyed by “Star Wars" and “Harry Potter." Its legacy will perhaps be that it gripped an entire generation of teenage girls — along with some boys too — with a love triangle between a human, a vampire and a werewolf, and made a ton of money while doing so. Perhaps the reboot will be embraced by a wider audience (I advise more decapitations).

5/10

Friends with Kids

“Friends with Kids” is an effective comedy and an even more effective drama, though technically it’s more of a comedy. More specifically, it is a romantic comedy ostensibly not about romance but about parenthood and child-rearing, two topics that - in spite of and because of the hardships that naturally accompany them - provide direct access to a whole wombful of comical situations (poopy diapers, late-night wailing and the such). But “Friends with Kids” ultimately is a film about romance in much the same way that “When Harry Met Sally” was, if I were to dare make such an unfair comparison: it is a film about romance specifically because it is not a film about romance and because, inevitably, romance wins out in the end.

The film focuses on Jason and Julie, a very likeable pair of thirtysomething best friends. Jason, a successful advertising executive and commitment-phobic womaniser, is played by Adam Scott (“Parks and Recreation”). Julie, an investment advisor and loving player of the “would you rather...?” game, is played by Jennifer Westfeldt (“Kissing Jessica Stein”). Jason and Julie live under the same roof, in a swanky apartment building in Manhattan. They have been close, supportive BFFs ever since college, but the prospect of sharing a romance has never once crossed their minds. They are strictly platonic, and comfortably so.

Jason and Julie share four good friends, consisting of two married couples who make up half the cast of “Bridesmaids” (“Friends with Kids” was in fact filmed well before that comedy smash-hit began shooting). Ben and Missy (Jon Hamm and Kristen Wiig), perpetually sex-mad, live in Manhattan, while Leslie and Alex (Maya Rudolph and Chris O’Dowd, with a dodgy American accent), more placid and settled, live in Brooklyn. In a late-night dinner date, it is show that both couples’ relationships are healthy and at the very least contented, but then again they are yet to take that dreaded plunge into the world of babydom. That’s about to change.

Four years later, Jason and Julie quietly observe this change during Jason’s disastrous birthday party at Leslie and Alex’s Brooklyn apartment, which now looks like the result of an explosion in a Toys R Us store. Leslie’s constant mothering of their young child has left her exhausted, and Alex has taken to locking himself in the bathroom in a desperate attempt to avoid his family. Ben and Missy, whose kid is younger than that of Leslie and Alex, have turned to drink and have grown increasingly resentful towards each other. On the walk back home, Jason and Julie theoretically discuss the peculiar prospect of raising a child without the added stress of having to sustain a relationship, and soon decide that that’s what they’ll do together: have a kid without “all the shit that comes with marriage.”

This results in one of several rib-tickling moments scattered throughout “Friends with Kids,” as Julie and Jason attempt to conceive a child. They opt for the more traditional method, i.e. sexual intercourse, with no turkey basters entering the equation. They start by watching a sleazy porn movie together, which doesn’t turn them on so much as stir up verbal criticism of said movie. Kissing proves awkward, so they decide not to kiss. Julie giggles uncontrollably as Jason begins to... well, do the no-pants dance. It’s quite touching, in its own little way. But the deed is done, and nine months later out pops a baby boy, whom they name Joe.

The idea is that Jason and Julie, without being romantically involved, take scheduled turns at nurturing Joe, promising to be “100% committed half of the time.” They are allowed to date others, so long as the baby remains fully cared for and is brought up in a loving, happy environment. Upon hearing of their friends’ plan of having their cake and eating it, Ben, Missy and Leslie believe it to be a horrible idea. “They are so fucked,” Ben and Missy whisper to each other while sneaking off into their kitchen. Alex disagrees: “It’s a brave new world, honey,” he tells his wife. “Today, there are test-tube babies and surrogate babies and Jon & Kate Plus 8.” Fair enough.

Written and directed by Westfeldt (in a more-than-capable directorial debut), “Friends with Kids” plays out like a much more foul-mouthed and vaginally-focused work by the late Nora Ephron. I mentioned “When Harry Met Sally” earlier, and I think content-wise it is a fair comparison: “Friends with Kids,” like the Ephron-scripted 1989 rom-com, explores the boundaries of platonic friendship through the eyes of two affectionate best pals and comes to a conclusion that is as predictable as it is inevitable. I don’t mind this: rom-coms are by nature predictable, and for one to veer off in an unexpected direction would itself be predictable. That’s a screenwriter’s dilemma right there.

What I do mind is when a rom-com goes down the predictable route and struggles to properly convince me that that’s the route its characters would take. “Friends with Kids” is such a film, establishing characters who are believable and convincing, and performed so, and then lining up hoops for them to slavishly jump through during a third act that feels forced and inauthentic. It’s odd seeing these people made to attempt the same obligatory hoops previously cartwheeled through by the likes of Jennifer Lopez and Ashton Kutcher, or indeed Billy Crystal and Meg Ryan all the way back in ‘89.

I liked Jason and Julie, both as individuals and as a pairing. The two share an appealing chemistry when on-screen together, performed with charm and pitch-perfect comic timing by Scott and Westfeldt. Jason is snarky but good-hearted, and Julie is sweet and sensitive. They make for a good parenting duo too, lending a helping hand to each other without a word of objection. Naturally, things aren’t so warm and fuzzy when they begin dating others (Jason dates a large-breasted Broadway dancer played by Megan Fox, while Julie dates a well-endowed construction contractor played by Edward Burns). Jealousy prevails, and thus their characters become slaves to formula.

But whatever. For much of its runtime, “Friends with Kids” is a pleasant watch and a pleasing alternative to the charmless romantic dross that Hollywood so regularly likes to churn out nowadays. It is cleverly written by Westfeldt, whose glowing script offers many witty observations on love and relationships not dissimilar to the ones that Ephron so frequently displayed in her 29-year career as a screenwriter. Thanks to its cast, comparisons to “Bridesmaids” are sadly almost unavoidable: “Friends with Kids” isn’t the laugh-out-loud riot that Paul Feig’s film so successfully was, and deliberately so. While in the end it chickens out and sheepishly adheres to the rom-com mould, it’s knowingly smart and generally amusing, and in some ways a little more sophisticated than Feig’s comedy behemoth.

6/10

Moonrise Kingdom

The films of Wes Anderson exist in their own little world, and what a strange little world it is. As shown in his “Rushmore" and “The Royal Tenenbaums," it is an eccentric, colourful world populated with flawed individuals who wander about in unfashionable clothing and whose every reaction is almost a non-reaction. It is soundtracked by laid-back folk tracks and British rock tunes. It is dryly comical, not that its glum-faced populace notices too much. Ever the auteur, Anderson lets us view this world from a meticulously chosen vantage point from which the composition of everything in sight appears strangely symmetrical, which gives it an aesthetic that is amusingly, boldly artificial.

Colour-coded and filmed with a controlled energy, it is a world that is practically animated, though Anderson has only attempted one animated film in his 16-year career: 2009’s “Fantastic Mr. Fox,” which showed that Anderson’s unchanging visual sensibilities are a natural match with stop-motion animation. But I think I prefer it when this world is presented in the live-action format; a real-life setting with characters made of flesh and blood serves only to enhance its curiously kooky qualities. I don’t think I’d turn down a trip to this weird little world, although I wouldn’t want to stay for too long - I’m not certain I’d want its unique idiosyncrasies to rub off on me too much.

“Moonrise Kingdom,” Anderson’s latest, takes place in this world, and arguably displays its quirky characteristics to a larger degree than Anderson’s previous works: all of the clichés so commonly associated with his style are flaunted in full force here, and charmingly so. It sees Anderson revisiting adolescence, a topic he last explored with habitual hilarity in his second full-length feature, “Rushmore.” It’s also quite possibly his most charming and accessible film thus far, though not his best: I, and I believe few will object to this, would gladly hand that award to “The Royal Tenenbaums.” Still, “Moonrise Kingdom” is a wonderful, whimsical creation.

“Moonrise Kingdom" is set on an island just off the coast of New England and a few miles away from reality. This island is not a particularly large one, but it’s big enough for someone to hide in for a day or two and go unnoticed. It is the year 1965, though really it could be any year. Twelve-year-old orphan and unpopular boyscout Sam Shakusky (Jared Gilman) flees the island’s Camp Ivanhoe in search of adventure, freedom and love. Joining this capricious little rogue is another twelve-year-old, the bookish and watchful Suzy Bishop (Kara Hayward), who runs away from home. Suzy is living in a lighthouse on the island for summer with her three younger brothers and her dysfunctional parents, attorneys Walter (Bill Murray, in his sixth collaboration with Anderson) and Laura (Frances McDormand, “Fargo”), who see their daughter as a “troubled child.” Perhaps they are right: she reminded me of a young Margot Tenenbaum, which I’m not so sure is a good thing.

In typical Andersonian style, young Sam and Suzy act not like innocent youngsters but like fully grown adults - they’re like the bleachy-eyed alien children from “Village of the Damned.” Sam smokes a corncob pipe. Suzy wears blue eye shadow. They’re already in love, having fallen for each other while penpalling, which they have done very regularly since their first meeting a full year ago: Suzy was performing in a church play and Sam snuck off backstage, where he became entranced by her. The production was of Benjamin Britten’s “Noye’s Fludde,” which contained superb on-stage flood effects. Perceptive viewers will recall that Bob Balaban's delightful on-screen narration mentioned in the opening moments that a storm will strike the island in three days - the storm of maturity?

A local search party is launched to find Sam and Suzy, led by Scoutmaster Ward (Edward Norton, “The Incredible Hulk”) and Police Captain Sharp (Bruce Willis, “Red”). The boyscouts join in too, though they treat the operation like a manhunt, arming themselves with axes and bows and arrows, and see Sam as a fugitive. The two runaways, meanwhile, set up camp atop a cliff, and later inside a secluded cove, which they name Moonrise Kingdom. Sam is burdened with all the camping duties, wielding ropes and survival gear, which he uses with much skill. Suzy, meanwhile, has brought with her a collection of sci-fi books, a portable record player (with extra batteries), her pet kitten and, of course, her trusty binoculars.

Sam and Suzy share a riveting romance - this, in spite of the fact that they are yet to enter their teenage years. They share sweet moments: Suzy teaches Sam to dance to Françoise Hardy in the Moonrise Kingdom cove; Sam listens intently as Suzy reads him her books; they kiss, and Sam questions her about French kissing. “The tongues touch each other,” explains Suzy. And they French kiss. Gilman and Hayward are talented young actors, appealing and magnetic both when together and when separated, though mostly they are together. Sam and Suzy act as the heart of “Moonrise Kingdom,” and a big heart the film has.

Along with our young hero and heroine, the adult stars of “Moonrise Kingdom” fully indulge in the deadpan technique that has become an integral staple of Anderson’s projects. Norton and Willis, both newbies to Anderson’s world, make for an excellent team-up as an inexperienced but dedicated scoutmaster and a lonely, melancholy cop, respectively. Murray, who has appeared in each Anderson film since “Rushmore,” projects sadness and gains sympathy, his character, along with the brilliant McDormand, stuck in a dead-end marriage that no longer brings him happiness, or perhaps it never did. Tilda Swinton (“We Need to Talk About Kevin") takes a terrific turn as a professionally concerned social services officer known only as Social Services, who unites the older and younger generations through their hatred of her - they believe she will inflict electric shock therapy upon young Sam, and no one wants that to happen.

Each frame of “Moonrise Kingdom" is gorgeously composed and each movement of the camera is skillfully co-ordinated. I’d call the visuals “quirky,” but I don’t think that would do them justice: the look of “Moonrise Kingdom” is a thing of startling, irresistible beauty, capable of wowing and tickling, sometimes achieving both at the same time. Consider, for example, a moment which sees Sam and Suzy stepping aside to talk over their upcoming elopement. Their brief, heart-to-heart conversation is probably important and dramatic, yet we do not hear a single word, for not only is it muted, but our attention is focused entirely on the young trampolinist skillfully demonstrating his athletic abilities on the right hand side of the frame. Few directors would get away with or even attempt such a thing, but Wes Anderson does both, and we adore him for it.

By now you probably know if you love or loathe Anderson’s style. I count myself in the former category, but I know many who would count themselves in the latter. If you’re on my side (not that we’re picking sides here), you should find “Moonrise Kingdom” an utter joy. If not, I believe its winning humour, wry imagination and subtle poignancy may very well win you over, though I can’t be certain: people can be very stubborn. “Moonrise Kingdom” is a film about young love, and reader, its magical charm and enchanting little oddities made me fall head over heels in love with it, and made me feel oh so young.

9/10

The Lucky One

Another year, another Nicholas Sparks cinematic adaptation, although you’d be forgiven for thinking 2012 has already had its fill: “The Vow,” a lacklustre romantic drama released in February and starring Channing Tatum and Rachel McAdams, was so similar to the Nicholas Sparks movie mould (hip-clenching poster and all) that many, myself included, simply assumed that it was based on one of his international bestsellers. Surprisingly, it turned out it wasn’t, but new movie “The Lucky One” is, and it fits the mould to a tee (although what’s being clenched in its poster is not a hip, but the back of Taylor Schilling’s slender neck).

You know the drill. It’s all vibrant sunsets and longing looks of unhinged passion, all set to pleasant little piano tunes and acoustic indie tracks that linger in the background of almost every scene. Schmaltzy montages (I counted seven) stalk the narrative and bring it to a halt with music video interludes, which depict, among many other things, canoe-rowing, nose-nuzzling, bed-humping and Zac Efron (swoon!) showing off his pecs and biceps as he fixes drain pipes and drives rusty tractors around a dirty dog kennel. Swoon indeed.

Efron, the hunky heartthrob who found fame in the “High School Musical” franchise, is here playing a US Marine called Logan Thibault. Sporting a finely trimmed stubble and a sexy buzzcut, Logan is serving his third tour of duty in Iraq, the scenes of which call to mind recent war actioners “Green Zone” and “The Hurt Locker.” On the morning after a troubling night raid, Logan spots something sitting atop a pile of rubble: a photograph. He strolls over to the photo, takes it in his hand and sees that it is of a woman; a beautiful, blonde-haired woman. As he stares at the picture, an explosion happens a few feet behind him, right in the spot in which he was standing when he saw the picture. He realises something: that picture saved his life, and he owes that blonde-haired woman a hard-earned thank you.

Eight months later, Logan returns to Colorado, where he is haunted by memories of his service in Iraq (video game sound effects startle him, and he very nearly attacks his young nephew upon a sudden wake-up call). However, this rather interesting character development is very quickly dumped and never mentioned again as Logan sets off on-foot to find the woman in the photograph. With his trusty German shepherd Zeus sticking by his side, Logan wanders from town-to-town, asking locals if they recognise the woman in the picture. There’s no such luck until he comes to Louisiana, where finally (and rather unbelievably) somebody recognises her.

As it turns out, the woman is called Beth Clayton (Schilling). She is a divorcee, is single (score!) and she owns a family-run dog kennel in the small town of Hamden. Living with her in her spacious home is her spunky, good-humoured mother (Blythe Danner, “Little Fockers”) and her multi-talented, curly-haired cutie of a son, Ben (Riley Thomas Stewart, “The Beaver”), who is an amateur magician and a player of chess, baseball and the violin (show-off).

Logan approaches Beth, but hesitates, and decides instead to apply for a job opening at the kennel. He gets the job, is quickly accepted into the family and strikes up a bit of a romance with Beth, but trouble soon arises in the shape of Beth’s asshole of an ex-husband, Keith (Jay R. Ferguson, “Mad Men”). A power-abusing sherrif, Keith is basically the epitome of epic douchebaggery. He is a beer-chugging brute who takes more than a bit of a jealous turn when he sees Beth and Logan together, deciding to do everything in his power to break them up. I should also note that Ferguson’s fleshy face is one of the most punchable I’ve ever seen on-screen, which I guess helps his performance as the story’s cartoonish antagonist.

“The Lucky One” is directed by Australian filmmaker Scott Hicks, who 16 years ago directed Geoffrey Rush in an Oscar-winning performance in touching David Helfgott biopic “Shine” - I somehow doubt he’ll do the same for Mr Efron here. Sparks’ novel, published in 2008, has been adapted by Will Fetter, who recently wrote another romantic drama starring a teenage heartthrob, the Robert Pattinson-boasting “Remember Me,” in 2010, with notably mixed results - the ending was tasteless and bloody infuriating, but all that came before was perfectly acceptable.

“The Lucky One,” too, is a mixed bag, though in this case it’s leaning more towards the negative side of things. Efron and Schilling, both very fine physical specimens, have a certain sexual chemistry that bulldozes its way through some slack characterisation. However, Fetter (and probably Sparks) feeds both of them the kind of cheesy lines that wouldn’t seem out of place in the “Twilight” saga. “You should be kissed every day, every hour and every minute,” says Efron, with his tongue sliding its way down Schilling’s much obliging throat.

It’s also of no help that neither Efron nor Schilling feel like the main character who’s meant to be guiding us through this faux-engaging love story. If it’s meant to be Efron, his character is too slack and uninteresting, much as the “Charlie St. Cloud” actor turns on his boyish, blue-eyed charm. And if it’s meant to be Schilling, her presence isn’t strong or frequent enough, even though the “Atlas Shrugged” actress clearly shows some talent. The truth is, it’s neither of them, and the film is consequently left lumbering its way through the stupendously clichéd story, which is predictable at the best of times and in the end comes to an all too expected and ultimately forgettable close.

I’ll say for “The Lucky One” the same thing I said for “The Vow:” there is an audience for this film, and that audience probably knows who they are. That audience will presumably be buying tickets for the film, regardless of anything I say, and I don’t doubt that they will find it an enjoyable, breezy watch. It is a date movie, and for that it is sufficient; as anything else, it’s completely useless, and if you’re not a part of this audience, you would certainly not be lucky to be dragged to it by your girlfriend (or possibly even your boyfriend) - you may, however, get “lucky” following your screening of the film.

5/10

One for the Money

More of a bad script-picker than a bad actress, Katherine Heigl has certainly plummeted in public opinion since her shining performance alongside chuckling funnyman Seth Rogen in Judd Apatow’s phenomenal 2007 romantic comedy “Knocked Up.” In the five years following the film’s release, Heigl has taken on leading roles in such cinematic turds as “27 Dresses,” “The Ugly Truth,” “Killers,” “Life as We Know It” and “New Year’s Eve.” Her latest dud is “One for the Money,” which doesn’t provide a U-turn for Heigl’s career or the public’s perception of her so much as a long, one-way road to the dark and dingy abyss that is the Hollywood Z-list; say hi to Cuba Gooding, Jr. for me, will you, Katherine?

Based on the first in the bestselling “Stephanie Plum” series of novels by Janet Evanovich, “One for the Money” is sort of a comedy, sort of a romance, sort of a mystery and sort of an action flick. Well, I say action, but the film contains only one explosion, just a few sparse gunshots and a couple of improper uses of a pair of handcuffs. The film is directed by Julie Anne Robinson, who made her filmmaking debut in 2010 with Miley Cyrus romance “The Last Song,” an adaptation of Nicholas Spark’s novel of the same name; shockingly, this is actually a step down in Robinson’s career, and makes “The Last Song” look like “The Notebook.”

Starring as spunky heroine Stephanie Plum is Miss Heigl, who is now sporting brown curls instead of her trademark blonde locks, as well as a slightly dodgy Jersey accent which I assume she picked up after watching MTV for a bit too long. A resident of the city of Newark, New Jersey, Miss Plum is short on money and high in debt after being fired from a Macy’s store six months ago for a reason that goes entirely unexplained. Out of sheer desperation, she goes to visit Vinnie’s Bail Bonds, owned by her cousin Vinnie (I assume that’s a joke), to ask for work.

And voila, she’s suddenly a bounty hunter in hot pursuit of Joe Morelli (Jason O’Mara, “Resident Evil: Extinction”), an ex-cop, wanted murderer and coincidentally an old flame of Stephanie. Meanwhile, Stephanie is being trained by a fellow bounty hunter, the very hunky Ranger (Daniel Sunjata, “Gone”), who shows off his skills on the job by shooting a paper silhouette square in the head again and again during target practice; it’s a pity the paper silhouette wasn’t Katherine Heigl (I jest, I jest).

There are many things wrong with “One for the Money,” and I honestly don’t think Heigl is one of them; perhaps she was miscast for the character (she may have cast herself, as she is the film’s executive producer), but she does fine with what she’s given and seems to be having fun, unlike us. What is wrong with the film, for starters, is the highly obnoxious jazzy soundtrack that lingers in the background of every scene, informing us of how funny (a rarity), sexy (an occasion) or thrilling (a non-entity) any given situation is. There’s also the problem that the supposedly intriguing investigation at the centre of the film appears to have stumbled out of a second-rate episode of “Monk,” resulting in the film feeling wholly uncinematic and dreadfully boring.

Even worse is the way this investigation is handled by the script, written by Stacy Sherman, Karen Ray and Liz Brixius, all first-time screenwriters (I knew that even before I googled them). While their script isn’t entirely witless (I suspect many of the zingy one-liners originated from the book), it is thoroughly incompetent in the development and general structure of a plot, is entirely vacant of any sense of character (Jersey stereotypes aside), and is so clumsy at developing the central investigation that its progression is rendered an incoherent, incomprehensible and impenetrable muddle of colourful characters and confusing motivations.

Tonally, it’s all over the shop, Robinson unable to decide whether she’s making a breezy rom-com or an action-packed mystery thriller. The result is a film that goes from lighthearted, aggressively unfunny comedy to passionless, groan-worthy romance, and on occasion to sloppily directed, snooze-inducing action that is completely out of place with everything else in the film. It’s basically “The Bounty Hunter” without the cinematic feel or the star power of Jennifer Aniston and Gerard Butler to keep its head above water; as a result, it drowns, and drowns slowly.

“One for the Money” has all the elements of a made-for-TV production (cheesy opening titles included), except for the inexplicable fact that it has been released in a multiplex near you. It is cheap, drab and utterly tedious, cruising along on an uninteresting plot that has been handled with the care and attention of a monkey at a typewriter; actually, make that three monkeys. With another 17 bestselling novels in the series so far, I wouldn’t be surprised if Lionsgate is prepping for a “Stephanie Plum” blockbuster franchise; I can assure them that as long as I still have a breath inside my lungs and blood running through my veins that is not going to happen.

2/10

This Means War

As an action film, “This Means War” doesn’t provide the heart-racing thrills or the nerve-shredding suspense to make it worth the price of a ticket. As a romance, it doesn’t provide the heart-warming sweetness or the syrupy-tasting tenderness to make it worth the price of a ticket. And as a comedy, it doesn’t provide the rib-tickling gags or the side-splitting wit to make it worth the price of a ticket.

It seems there’s not a lot in “This Means War” to make it worth the price of a ticket, outside of the mouth-watering eye candy of Reese Witherspoon for the guys and Tom Hardy and Chris Pine for the ladies. But come on, people, let’s not be shallow: eye candy is simply not enough to hand over hard-earned cash for what is essentially a poor man’s “True Lies,” even when Tom Hardy is running and leaping about a paintball arena in a tight-fitting V-neck drenched in his own sweat. Well, not quite enough.

“This Means War” comes a whole year after the never-ending assortment of action-packed rom-coms Hollywood churned out in 2010, including “The Bounty Hunter,” “The Tourist,” “Killers” and “Knight and Day;” three of those films I very much disliked, the other was a bit of a guilty pleasure due to my undying fondness for Mr Tom Cruise. With its appealing cast and boundless energy, “This Means War” had all the potential to be a guilty pleasure just like “Knight and Day” was, but ultimately ends up providing all the guilt and none of the pleasure.

The film centres on a love triangle shared between two CIA agents and a perky blonde. The two CIA agents are womanising bachelor FDR Foster (Pine) and divorced father-of-one Tuck Henson (Hardy), and the perky blonde is product-testing executive Lauren Scott (Witherspoon). FDR and Tuck are best buds, do practically everything together and are highly skilled in their top-secret line of work. Lauren is a distance-staring singleton looking for the right guy but not finding him.

One day, Lauren’s best friend, Trish (Chelsea Handler, “Hop”), makes a profile for Lauren on a dating site without her knowledge. And voila, she gets a reply: it’s Tuck! Lauren meets him, has lunch with him and the two hit it off rather well. That same day, Lauren coincidentally bumps into FDR in a DVD rental store, where he almost instinctively begins to flirt with her. After annoying the crap out of her and stalking her at work, FDR eventually convinces her to go on a date with him, completely unaware that she is currently seeing Tuck. Lauren suddenly realises something: she’s dating two guys at the same time! Oh my!

FDR and Tuck also discover this to their shock horror, and decide to turn the tricky situation into something of a competition where the winner gets to keep Lauren. They set out some rules: no telling Lauren that they know each other, no interfering with each other’s dates and no hanky-panky with Lauren, even if she asks for it. Unsurprisingly, every single one of these rules is broken within a very short amount of time, resulting in their competitiveness becoming more and more intense. Oh, and there’s something about a badguy with weapons of mass destruction wanting revenge for the death of his brother, but whatever, that’s not important.

As the film goes on, FDR and Tuck both become increasingly ruthless and creepy in their gamesmanship. They bug Lauren’s house, survey her every move, shoot each other with tranquiliser darts and, in a scene calling to mind “Bridget Jones’s Diary,” throw each other around a restaurant. All of this is mildly amusing, sure, but it’s always saddled with the overwhelming problem that the story is completely preposterous and entirely unconvincing: I mean, why on earth would two supremely skilful CIA agents (who are already in trouble following a covert mission cock-up) risk losing their jobs by abusing their powers, wrongfully using millions of dollars-worth of high-tech gizmos just to spy on Reese Witherspoon (who’s certainly attractive but not exactly chin-droolingly irresistible) when they’re supposed to be hunting down an incredibly dangerous criminal mastermind gunning for revenge? I’d consider it all a social commentary on the stupidity of men, but I don’t believe the film’s director is the slightest bit capable of that amount of depth.

This director, by the way, is McG, the one-named former record producer and music video-maker who previously brought you “Charlie’s Angels,” “Charlie’s Angels: Full Throttle” and “Terminator Salvation.” He directs “This Means War” with a self-impressed visual slickness, but struggles whenever it comes to doing anything that is not shooting action or shoving Apple products down the viewer’s throat; it’s remarkable the amount of times you hear that undeniable click of the unlocking of an iPhone throughout the film.

What keeps “This Means War” from completely sinking is its three leading actors, who share a pleasing chemistry and all seem to be having quite a bit of fun; I can’t say I can empathise. We have Chris Pine as a douchebag American James Bond who lives in an insanely expensive apartment with a glass ceiling that serves as the bottom of a swimming pool; international espionage pays well, it seems. We have Tom Hardy as a more sensitive, more British spy with a buzz cut, tattoo-covered muscles and a seven-year-old boy whom he takes to karate lessons. And we have Reese Witherspoon playing her usual perky self with a winning smile, sweet personality and an extra touch of sluttiness.

“This Means War” tries to please everybody and ends up pleasing nobody. It tries to please the men with the action, and the women with the romance and the comedy. Trouble is, it’s clumsy with all three genres and can’t quite decide what it is: is it an action flick with a bit of rom-com on the side or a rom-com with bursts of action sprinkled throughout? Unlike “True Lies,” it never really finds a balance, and the end result is a jumbled mess.

4/10

The Vow

Released just four days before the annual love-fest that is Valentine’s Day, “The Vow” is a film that many will describe as the perfect date movie. I respectfully disagree; “The Vow” is not a perfect date movie, it’s only an adequate one. If you’re looking for a perfect date movie, buy or rent a masterfully crafted film such as “(500) Days of Summer” or “Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind,” or maybe even go see the newly released “The Muppets” at your local cinema; I guarantee a fun and magical time with your partner/date out of the last one.

“The Vow” is none of these films; it doesn’t have the heart, the soul or the brain to compete with them. And while it certainly has all the elements of a perfect date movie (the romance, the breakup, the weeping, the laughing), its handling of them will satisfy only the least demanding of audience members. I would say, however, that there’s potential for some back-row smooching and cheeky groping during the film’s plethora of boring moments; just make sure you’re discreet, lest you distract and disturb your fellow movie-goers with your semi-public naughtiness.

“The Vow” is a chick flick, and it certainly pushes all the buttons of one. It is a romance, but it is not a boy-meets-girl story; it is, in fact, a girl-forgets-boy story. The boy is Leo Collins (Channing Tatum, “Haywire”), a hunky owner of an independent recording studio in Chicago. The girl is Paige Collins (Rachel McAdams, “Morning Glory”), Leo’s wife, who spends much of her day in her art studio, blasting loud music as she sculpts lumps of clay. The two have been married for four years and are very much in love, as shown in the opening scene when Leo passionately belts out the lyrics to “I’d Do Anything for Love” to Paige when the song plays on the car radio. Aawwr.

And then, shock horror, something very bad happens to them. One snowy night, as they sit and wait at traffic lights, the couple are rear-ended by a truck. Leo wakes up in hospital with some minor injuries. Paige, however, ends up in a drug-assisted coma and is predicted to suffer some brain damage. When she wakes up, she can’t remember her life with Leo or ever having met him; indeed, when she first wakes up and sees him standing at her hospital bed, she mistakes him for a doctor. It is at that point that the violins begin playing.

Paige’s estranged parents (Sam Neill, “Daybreakers,” and Jessica Lange, “Broken Flowers”) come to the hospital and ask Paige to come back to their home to live with them. Leo, whom Paige’s parents know nothing about, instead asks Paige to stay with him and get back into her normal routine to see if any memories come back to her. Hesitantly, Paige decides to stay with the husband she doesn’t recognise, who quickly becomes determined to reignite his wife’s forgotten memories and make her fall in love with him all over again. Aawwr.

There is potential for an emotionally stirring, dramatically rich story in “The Vow;” we have a woman living with a stranger who is her husband, while the man she loves, ex-fiancé Jeremy (Scott Speedman, “Underworld”), wants her back. The film strives for enthralling, stimulating drama and strives too hard, ultimately coming across as forced, schmaltzy and manipulative. Content-wise, it has all the workings of a Nicholas Sparks novel; unfortunately, its execution is like that of a Nicholas Sparks movie, and one that is most definitely not “The Notebook.”

Tatum and McAdams look very comfortable in their roles, and why shouldn’t they? They’re certainly not unfamiliar with the weepy-eyed romance genre; McAdams starred alongside Ryan Gosling in the aforementioned “The Notebook” in 2004 and alongside Eric Bana in “The Time Traveler’s Wife” in 2009, while Tatum starred alongside Amanda Seyfried in “Dear John” in 2010. Both give performances that are emotionally convincing and admittedly charming, but it’s their characters that do them a bit of a disservice.

Right from the beginning, I disliked both of their characters. Call me a heartless cynic, but their overdone cutesiness, ever-widened smiles and tendency to smell each other’s farts (I’m not kidding) bugged me from the get-go. As a couple, they’re rather obnoxious, which is a definite problem when the film’s concept relies wholly on the audience’s wanting for the couple to get back together. There’s a convincing yearning to Tatum’s “hunk with a heart of gold” performance, sure, but good ol’ potato face just isn’t enough to save the film.

I would say that young women in the audience will find “The Vow” to be pleasurable, but fortunately I’m not a patronising, sexist prick. What I will say is that there is a certain audience for this who will enjoy the film for what it is and care not for what it isn’t. What it isn’t is a passionate, breathtaking tale of heartfelt romance that is as touching as it is riveting. What it is is cookie-cutter Hollywood fluff that is mostly passable for a Friday-night date movie but not for very much else.

4/10

The Twilight Saga: Breaking Dawn - Part 1

I'd like to kick-start this review by openly stating that I, hand on heart, am an enjoyer of the first three "Twilight" movies. Now, notice I used the word "enjoyer" and not "fan;" there is a difference between the two. You see, yes, it's true, I have indeed enjoyed the opening three chapters of the increasingly epic movie saga about sparkling vampires and topless werewolves (I believe "Twilight," "New Moon" and "Eclipse" to be rather decently made, albeit as corny as a cornfield). However, I am by no means a "fan," a term which would undoubtedly give you, dear reader, the distinct impression that I am a squealing, swooning, tweenage Twihard who is proudly and loudly positioned in either Team Edward or Team Jacob, although if forced to pick between the two I would probably route for the former - Jacob's a mopey little twerp.

I'm saying this because I have already witnessed several professional film critics being viciously attacked by "Twilight" fans for having the audacity to review (and tear to shreds) the series' fourth instalment, "Breaking Dawn - Part 1," when it apparently "wasn't made for them." Going by this logic, twisted as it is, "Breaking Dawn - Part 1" was made for me; I am the "correct" age, I am a mumbling teen and, in spite of my gender, I have thus far enjoyed the "Twilight" saga, cheesy as the series may be. As such, I believe it to be my privilege and my right to inform you, dear reader, that "The Twilight Saga: Breaking Dawn - Part 1" is, well, not particularly good.

I know, it's shocking - the trailers and TV spots made it look so amazing, didn't they? Hold on a tick, no they didn't. "Breaking Dawn - Part 1" is unquestionably the weakest of the fantasy film saga thus far, which, judging by the decidedly mixed opinions surrounding Stephenie Meyers' original "Breaking Dawn" novel, I think even the most dedicated of fans were predicting. However, I believe that many of the series' fans will nonetheless leave the theatre satisfied, regardless of the film's cavalcade of foolish faults and perplexingly preposterous moments - as long as there's the romance, the brooding and the all-important male hotness on full display, their needs will be fulfilled. As for the rest of us, we'll just have to roll our eyes, slap our foreheads and glumly suffer through it all.

You may remember right at the end of the third "Twilight" instalment, "Eclipse," that vegetarian vampire Edward Cullen (Robert Pattinson, "Water for Elephants") finally proposed to his one true love, human Bella Swan (Kristen Stewart, "Adventureland"). Well, "Breaking Dawn - Part 1" shows us the long-awaited wedding of Mr Cullen and Miss Swan in all its cheesy glory, in fact spending almost half an hour covering the damn thing. Awkward speeches aside, the wedding is a success (they both say, "I do," squee!) and the newlyweds fly to beautiful Rio for their romantic honeymoon.

Inevitably, the prospect of lurve-making comes up, and it turns out vampires are right kinky buggers in the bedroom - they cover their partners in bruises, tear apart the bed's headboard and completely destroy the room. Well, that's what 100 years of abstinence will do to you. It also turns out that their testicles contain super sperm, because after just fourteen days of consummating their marriage, Bella discovers to her horror that she is pregnant, and the fast-growing baby sitting inside her might turn out to be a monstrous vampire-human hybrid that could kill her before she can even give birth to the little bugger. Looks like someone forgot to use protection. Tut tut, Edward.

Edward smartly wants the demon baby taken out of his new bride, but Bella, being the stupid bitch that she is, decides she wants to keep the bloodsucking monster growing inside of her. When Bella's totally-jealous werewolf friend Jacob (Taylor Lautner, "Abduction") learns of this, he's furious and, like, kicks a motorbike across the ground and has a very angry face (arrr, angry face, Lautner! Arrrr!). Jacob informs his tribe of the existence of the baby; the tribe, who loathe vampires, decide they must kill the unborn abomination, regardless of Bella's well-being. Upon hearing this, Jacob decides to protect Bella, though he's still got a sour face over the whole demon baby thingy. Meanwhile, Bella begins wasting away at the Cullen home as the monster baby growing inside her womb feeds away on her nutrition.

There are certain things about "Breaking Dawn - Part 1" that I liked. The first thing that springs to mind are the special-effects and make-up work used on Kristen Stewart to make her look frail and skeletal during the film's second half; they're rather convincing. There's also the fact that the film does manage to be mildly engaging from start to finish, the loose narrative able to hold one's interest in spite of its notable lack of thrills and the audience's likely knowledge of where the story is going. But holding one's interest is sometimes just not enough; a film must of course be a satisfying experience for it to be worthy of the price of a ticket, and I can assure you that "Breaking Dawn - Part 1" is certainly not a satisfying experience.

This might be because the film essentially covers only half the plot of its source material, much like "Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows - Part 1" did last year, though to much, much more success. As such, the film ends on a cliff-hanger, teasing us that something epic is about to happen, or, in other words, shit is, in all likelihood, about to get real. I was interested in seeing that, but alas, the end credits burst onto the screen and I walked out of the theatre rather unsatisfied. This is unlike in "Deathly Hallows - Part 1," where, when the end credits burst onto the screen, I walked out of the theatre not only incredibly eager to get my mitts on "Part 2," but also a happy and appeased moviegoer having seen “Part 1.”

Keeping in line with its three superior predecessors, "Breaking Dawn - Part 1" contains a plethora of unintentional comedy. This time round, we've got CGI werewolves angrily yelling at each other without moving their mouths, Bella drinking blood through a straw attached to a polystyrene cup, the messy aftermath of Edward and Bella's ferocious lovemaking (how on earth did they manage to break the doors at the other side of the room?), a birthing scene that's at times a David Cronenberg body horror and at others a Mel Brooks parody, the peculiar naming method of Edward and Bella's baby, and, last but not least, Taylor Lautner's acting. Sad face, Lautner, do your sad face!

And there is also the fact that the story at the centre of the film is absolutely, positively demented, specifically the plot concerning the evil demon fetus; it’s like one of the chest bursters from the “Alien” franchise. Of course, the film itself cannot necessarily be blamed for this - the blame goes mostly to author Miss Stephenie Meyer for writing such stupid tripe. But still, the fact is that the film does revolve around the evil demon fetus and suffers as a result; it comes across as a bad soap opera crossed with a revolting horror flick, and is not only a little bit silly but also a little bit off-putting - honestly, I'd rather go back to the Edward-Bella-Jacob love triangle than have to watch any more of this baby parasite malarkey.

Look, if you're going to see this movie, you already know you are going to see it; nothing I can say will stop you, but then again I don’t really want to stop you. But what I will do is warn you: as an enjoyer (not a fan, remember) of the first three films, I did not particularly enjoy "Breaking Dawn - Part 1." It's a silly, goofy, unintentionally hilarious fantasy film containing a bizarre story that's unsatisfying and, for the most part, unexciting. Whether or not "Part 2" will be any better I don't know, but seeing as to how it was filmed back-to-back with "Part 1," I'm not counting on it.

4/10

Friends with Benefits

“Friend with Benefits” is a much better movie than “No Strings Attached” because the former is fun and the latter is not. Why the comparison? Well, as many have pointed out (including me), both movies, both released in 2011, revolve around the exact same premise: a man and a woman, who have just recently become good friends, mutually decide to use each other in order to satisfy their sexual desires, no strings attached. How very modern a concept.

However, there is a difference. While “No Strings Attached” was drab and boring, “Friends with Benefits” is zany and fun. While “No Strings Attached” was more of a dramedy, “Friends with Benefits” is very much a comedy. While “No Strings Attached” took its concept much more seriously, “Friends with Benefits” for the most part does not, and is all the better for it.

The movie begins with both of our protagonists being dumped, coincidentally (or not?) outside of movie theatres. Dumpee number one is Dylan (Justin Timberlake, “The Social Network”), and dumpee number two is Jamie (Mila Kunis, “Black Swan”). Dylan is an art director for a Los Angeles-based internet company, and Jamie is an executive headhunter in New York City who has been asked to recruit Dylan to interview for a job at GQ magazine.

So, Dylan flies to NYC, meets Jamie, does the interview and gets an offer. However, Dylan is unnerved by the thought of making the move from LA to the Big Apple. In an attempt to persuade him otherwise, she takes him on a tour around the beautiful city, shows him the magnificent sites and gazes at the stars with him. But it’s a cheesy dance routine in the middle of Times Square that finally persuades him to take the job and move into the city (it sort of makes more sense in the movie. Sort of).

And then Dylan and Jamie start to hang out together, watch crappy romance movies together (not including “No Strings Attached,” I don’t think), and then decide to fuck. Yes, they’re quickly going at it like horny little bunnies in the middle of mating season, but they’re doing this on one condition: no feelings, no emotions, no emotional strings to hold them down (like Pinocchio).

It’s all very casual; they strip each other, they hump each other, they please each other, yet there remains no romance or any of that love-dovey claptrap going on between them. And they go about their daily lives like nothing ever happened, staying as just two normal friends who happen to know the insides as well as the outsides of each other. But can it possibly stay this way? Will sex remain just a physical act between them? Will there be feelings sparked between them or will they continue as nothing more than friends with benefits? Well, of course they won’t, you silly billy! What are you, blind?!

Under the direction of Will Gluck (who gave us the fabulously clever “Easy A” last year), “Friends with Benefits” is shockingly a pure and utter joy to behold. Why shocking? Because this is a film that I, along with many others, assumed wouldn’t work, that I was sure was just another brainless rom-com to be brushed aside like a common fly crawling its way up your arm. It seems I was a little bit wrong.

There’s nary a second that passes by in “Friends with Benefits” that isn’t funny or amusing, poignant or moving. The dialogue is fast and zany, very hip and comical. The comedy is both silly and raunchy, tickling ribs on what is quite a regular basis. The sex scenes are frequent, presented in a manner that is fresh and original. Plus, there is some drama to be had, with Dylan’s father (the extraordinary Richard Jenkins, “Let Me In”) suffering from Alzheimer’s disease; this doesn’t feel crammed into the plot just for the sake of it, instead introduced very naturally and used effectively without the onsets of cinema-induced depression.

Timberlake and Kunis make for fantastic sexy-buddy leads, fitted with the kind of sexual chemistry that could only have occurred by accident; you certainly can’t make this happen on purpose. They’re both bouncy and energetic in their roles, looking like they are genuinely having fun playing these characters, and not at our expense. Their characters are actually a would-be couple for whom we do truly care about; that’s right, a modern-day romantic comedy with protagonists who are worthy of our empathy. Shocking, I know.

There is also an excellent cast of wonderful actors on hand here who manage to paint rather memorable supporting characters with their limited screen-time. There’s Woody Harrelson (“Zombieland”) as Tommy, the sports editor for GQ who owns a speedboat and is gay without being turned into a campy stereotype. There’s Patricia Clarkson as Lorna, Jamie’s ridiculously laid-back, hopelessly quirky mother who has memories of the ’70s still playing in her head. And there’s the aforementioned Jenkins, whose character delivers “that big important speech” to Timberlake near the end of the movie.

Yes, the film is all formula; it’s as predictable as any other rom-com you’ve ever seen, ever, and it seems to know this itself. Still, it works in a way that is most unexpected, i.e. you find yourself caring about what is ensuing on-screen and what will transpire between these characters at the end of the story. Sure, you know what‘s going to happen and the basics of how it will happen, but it’s still endearing to watch, regardless of its high predictability factor. If that’s not the sign of a well-made movie, I don’t know what is.

8/10

Something Borrowed

The purpose of a love story is to enchant an audience with a tale of passion and romance, to entrance them with characters who fall for each other in spite of what is put in place to separate them and keep them from holding and caressing and kissing each other. Luke Greenfield's "Something Borrowed" takes a stab at this, but ultimately fails because of one tiny little problem: the characters are detestable pieces of unlikable scum who should be spat upon with hefty strands of thick saliva.

These characters are not engaging, they are not entrancing, and they are not sympathetic. It's difficult to see them as anything other than dirt bags and cowards, given the moral corruption of their sneaky actions. Because of this, the love story at the centre of the plot is a tedious drag that numbs the buttocks faster than any anaesthetic ever could. Who would want to sit through 100+ minutes of irritating characters whining about not being able to be with the one they have a crush on? It's very, very tiring, and no amount of piano riffs humming away in the background can change this.

But who are these characters? Well, our protagonist is Rachel White (Ginnifer Goodwin, "Big Love"), an attorney living in New York. She's been single for quite some time, though she has her eyes set on the very hunky Dex Thaler (Colin Egglesfield, "All My Children"), and always has ever since they went to law school together. The only problem is that Dex is engaged to marry Rachel's long-time BFF Darcy Rhone (Kate Hudson, "Bride Wars"), a thirtysomething party girl who always gets what she wants.

On the night of Rachel's 30th birthday, a surprise party is thrown in her honour, in which Darcy stands in front of a PowerPoint which shows pictures of her and Rachel together over the many years, Darcy talking about how they've always been the best of friends since they've been kids, and how Rachel introduced Darcy to her fiancé Dex. Shortly after this, Rachel has her tongue stuck down Dex's throat. This is after both have had a hefty amount to drink, but hey, screw morals and loyalty and whatever.

Waking up to find themselves in bed with each other, they're a little panicky, but manage to sneakily explain to Darcy why Dex didn't come home last night. Following this, the two decide to just pretend that nothing ever happened, but of course this does not exactly last very long. Rachel also feels guilty -- she even watches the climactic scene of "Fatal Attraction," which is so hilariously ironic. This film is genius.

Throwing any sense of right and wrong to the side, Dex and Rachel embark upon a passionate affair, this completely unbeknownst to Darcy as she excitedly plans for the wedding. So, will Rachel end up with Dex? Will Darcy and Dex get married? Will Darcy find out about the affair? And will she and Rachel still be BFFs if she does? I honestly couldn't give a hoot.

Based on Emily Griffin's chick lit novel of the same name, "Something Borrowed" is obnoxiously uninteresting, its thin-as-an-anorexic plot painfully stretched out to make it a full-length feature film. I wouldn't usually label a movie as "boring," as different people find different things entertaining, but in this case I simply have to call it that. It is boring. Very, very boring, to the point where it actually feels like the suffering is never going to stop. The end credits were a sweet relief, let me tell you.

The plot is like Nancy Meyers' brilliant "It's Complicated," but with characters who aren't even the slightest bit appealing. In Meyers' film, the characters were amusing, the adultery was playful and involving, the film overall quite riveting. In "Something Borrowed," it feels like we're just watching melodrama ensue, the characters beyond annoying, the adultery coming across as nasty, selfish and deceitful, which makes the adulterers' fate quite sickening. Meryl Streep and Alec Baldwin, where the hell are you?

The film is being marketed as a comedy, but really there's barely a gag to be seen -- well, aside from in the throats of audience members. And if it is genuinely meant to be categorised as a comedy, then wow, what a stinker of a laugh-em-up, 'cause there's nary a joke that works in the whole thing. The majority of the film is just pure melodrama, the second half especially, and what could be called comedy feels more like comic relief, pretty much all coming from Rachel's sarcastic platonic pal Ethan (John Krasinski, "Away We Go"). Though to be fair, a scene in which Ethan claims to be gay so that a woman stops trying to sleep with him did get a chuckle out of me -- you see, the only gag that works is a friggin' gay joke. Sigh.

With the romance falling flat on its face and the comedy dead in the water, "Something Borrowed" is a humongous failure of a romantic comedy, filled with characters who nobody could possibly give a toss about. I wish the film could have borrowed my interest, but sadly something else kept on doing that, something far more intriguing that just so happened to be wrapped around my wrist: my watch.

2/10

Beastly

After watching the opening moments of Daniel Barnz's "Beastly," you will have received every piece of information you need to know about the film. It opens with a song called "Vanity," a Hanover Swain tune that plays over footage of a hunky topless man working out as he smugly grins at himself in the mirror, performing push-ups and chin-ups. The song continues as we are given establishing shots of billboards on which pictures of half-naked men and women are professionally posing for all to see, the tune's lyrics repeating the word "vanity" over and over again. These introductory scenes work furiously to ram the film's message down the viewer's throat until their arms and legs are flailing in the air and they can no longer breathe -- by the time the song faded out, I was already gagging.

Yes, "Beastly" is all about vanity, specifically the vanity of the aforementioned mirror-grinner, a blonde-curled, six-packed, slim-jim hunk who's more arrogant than Kanye West at a music awards show. His name is Kyle Kingston (Alex Pettyfer, "I Am Number Four"), a rich kid, son of a news anchor, lover of himself, and he's running for student body president at his school.

After winning purely for his handsome physique and having his head lodged inside his own anus, he mocks emo kid Kendra (Marie-Kate Olsen, twin sister of Ashley) for being, like, weird and emo and, like, stuff. And then Kendra reveals herself to be a witch of sorts, and sneakily places a spell on the unsuspecting Kyle. He feels dizzy at the after-party, goes to his ridiculously expensive home and watches as his reflection hideously changes.

Kendra has cursed him with a spell that has all but destroyed his luscious good looks, to which he reacts with understandable whining. However, with all his hair shaved off and his body covered in scars and tattoos, he just looks like a guy who's recently had another drunken night out with his mates. He could have "I LUV JIM-BOB" tattooed on his forehead, it wouldn't seem out of place.

The rule of his curse is that if he gets someone to say that they love him within a year, then his hunk-a-liscious looks will be returned immediately. However, if he is unable to do this, then he will forever be a scarred, tattooed, eyebrow-less slap-head. I tell you what he could do: phone up a sex line and get the girl on the other end to say she loves him -- see, happy ending for him. Ahem.

Okay, so "Beastly" is essentially a contemporary reworking of the classic fairytale "Beauty and the Beast," the film itself based on the 2007 novel "Beastly" by Alex Flinn. The tale is beloved by many, its popularity increased by the dazzlingly animated Disney adaptation of 1991. However, there are no singing candles or dancing wardrobes in this beast of a movie; instead, we have brooding teenagers and sad-faced emoticons on Facebook updates. :-(

"Beastly" is catering to the most easily pleased audience in the world: teenage girls. Like "Twilight" (but without decent filmmaking to back itself up), it's all about mopey adolescent romance, it trying only to satisfy the fantasies of the swooning tweens in the otherwise-bored audience. And the thing is, much as I disliked this film, it will undoubtedly satisfy its demographic's desires. Does this mean it is any good? Not in any way, shape or form.

The hilarious thing is that after Kyle's supposedly ghastly transformation, he is still relatively good-looking. Sure, he's lost his golden locks, he's got scars running along his body, tattoos and piercings covering his face, and his ears are all doolally, but he's still the hunky, athletic Alex Pettyfer with the dreamy eyes and false American accent that makes anyone with sex organs weak at the knees.

He's not the strongest of actors, his facial expressions strained at times and his line delivery occasionally bland, the same as he was in "I Am Number Four." However, the British actor is still the lickable eye candy who all the teens will weep for when his good looks turn bad. Poor smug, arrogant, detestable, nasty bastard son of a bitch character! Why'd it have to happen to HIM?! Why not Paris Hilton?

Disney princess Vanessa Hudgens ("Sucker Punch") is the angelic love interest, a ridiculously kind, sweet and caring young adult named Lindy who we actually watch feed the homeless in one laughable scene. Our hooded protagonist obsessively stalks Lindy (looks like someone's been taking tips from a certain Edward Cullen) until she has to go into protection when her father shoots a mugger, whose brother swears vengeance on poor Lindy. I'd like to add that this plotline goes absolutely nowhere.

I'm not kidding when I say that the only positive thing I could possibly say about this film is the presence of the lovely Neil Patrick Harris ("Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs"). He plays Kyle's blind tutor, his character given all the good, funny lines in the downright appalling script by director Daniel Barnz. In fact, even Harris' character becomes irritating after a while, being the butt of every blind joke and wisecracking about damn near everything.

"Beastly" is teenage fantasy romance at its agonising worst. Struggling even to entertain for 80 tedious minutes, it's annoyingly misguided, slothfully directed, blandly acted and slapped silly with a script that's even more ugly than its deformed main character. Teenage girls the world over will no doubt love it, but they're, like, dumb and stuff. LOL ;-) xx

2/10