Ali G: Who Iz I? — Movie Review

Daniel SimmsLeave a comment

No one was asking for an Ali G revival. It seems a portion of the press and Internet condemned it before giving it a chance. Even this writer was sceptical. But Sacha Baron Cohen doesn’t make many missteps and usually lands an idea despite everyone else’s instincts.

The original Ali G movie was a rare letdown. It removed the formula which made the TV show so successful. Borat was the main beneficiary. When his movie was made, the format of the show was built upon, not abandoned.

Ali G: Who Iz I? is a halfway house. It remembers its roots, and throughly exposes people who don’t realise Ali G is a character, but adds a movie style narrative.

The biggest gamble is how the movie breaks the Fourth Wall. It nods to the audience that Ali G is just a character, played by an actor. It even cuts to a backstage off-camera moment ahead of an astonishing sequence. It does this to reassure the audience, that what is about to come, isn’t real. But the people in the scene, believe it is. Ali G’s long absence (the character became too mainstream to continue operating as an exposé artist) serves as a blessing.

The movie has received flack for being crass and obscene. It is. People distracted by this element are ignoring the absurdity the non-actors in the movie go along with. Which reveals the true satire and message at play.

It’s Jackass for morality. And Sacha Baron Cohen reveals people on the Left and Right side of politics are often morally bankrupt in equal measure.

Unexpected laughs appeared while watching, along with genuine amazement and shock.

8/10

Unchosen — Season 1 Review

Daniel SimmsLeave a comment

The premise of The Unchosen and casting of Christopher Eccleston created great hope. A cross between The Handmaid’s Tale and The Leftovers. The idea of a closed-off cult receiving an unexpected visitor. It even started with that potential being met. Partially deaf child Grace is saved from drowning by a mysterious man who suddenly disappears. Is he Jesus?

No. He’s a cross between the lead singer for Pearl Jam and Jon Snow. He also happens to be an escaped convict. The closed-off Christian community has strict rules around contact. No phones. No internet. No TV. And for Grace’s mum, no qualms about jumping into bed with the newcomer, Sam.

The strong start loses steam when the writers stop building suspense, drop impressive characters once they have been used as plot devices (Grace), and ask the audience not to apply logic or reason. It’s the same formula used for cheap, easy-to-read Kindle novellas.

People ask: who watches soaps nowadays? It must be the viewers who will find The Unchosen highbrow.

If it was genuinely trying to raise debate or awareness of any number of serious issues it touches upon, it fails in the cheap execution.

It has been set up for a second season. I have unchosen it from Netflix’s My List.

4/10 

Superman Returns — Review

Daniel SimmsLeave a comment

Today we review a simple proposition: the idea that a man returns to a world he has left behind. Since he’s been gone, that world has learned to live without him. It has even reached the conclusion that the world doesn’t need him back. We’ll also consider Superman Returns.

The 2006 film was Warner Bros. attempting to relaunch its Superman franchise. The route taken meant the third and fourth Christopher Reeve films were gently redacted. In this universe, Superman went AWOL following the events of Superman II. Brandon Routh revives the Man of Steel, and despite a strong performance, it proved to be career kryptonite.  His channelling of Reeve was more homage than bad impression. The lack of acceptance is confusing to this day.

Maybe his muted costume dampened the nostalgia. Gone was the bright red and blue, replaced with a maroon cape and dark blue suit, which brings back memories of Reeve’s Superman fighting a dirtied evil version of himself in Superman III (it’s still canon to me). The symbol was shrunken down. Maybe deep space searches for lost home planets is a dirty business and shrinks your clothes in the same way leaving them in the tumble dryer does.

Kevin Spacey does a solid job as Lex Luthor. No one will ever be able to top Gene Hackman but this is as close as we’ll likely get. His sidekick – Kitty Kowalski, played by Parker Posey – is the casting issue that highlights where the film fell apart. Visually, the movie works. Even the addition of a potential Superboy, Lois Lane’s son whose date of conception aligns with their love affair from Superman II, works. But the main dynamic in a Superman story is between Lois and Clark. In Superman Returns, Kate Bosworth does not have the presence or chemistry to carry that role.

Sadly, we are reminded throughout the movie of what Lois should (and could) have been like every time Parker Posey is on the screen. She has the sass we expect from Lois.

The flat Lois is something the movie never recovers from. You almost realise why Kal-El decided to disappear for five years. Bryan Singer, after the success of his X-Men movies, understood the assignment. He tailored this film for a DC audience and played to the strengths of the universe it inhabits, but he couldn’t save the disconnect from fans once the key chemistry was missing. A weak Lois is like relaunching the Batman franchise and making David Schwimmer the Joker. Sure, it may make sense on paper to someone stuck in an office. But it won’t work. In Bosworth’s case, it didn’t work.

It’s a shame, because that muted, muddied suit looks more inviting than David Corenswet’s version. The smaller symbol beats James Gunn’s use of the Kingdom Come variant. It’s a better movie too (but we can discuss that another day). For now, we look back on Routh as the man who followed Reeve and never got the chance to make us believe a man could fly again.

6/10

(It’s also good to be returning to the site after a lengthy lay-off.)

Why I Relate to Netflix’s Legends

Clive BallsLeave a comment

Netflix’s hottest show at the moment has to be Legends. It is based on a true story (take note, Baby Reindeer — “based on”) covering how, in the early Nineties, the UK was facing a heroin crisis.

Margaret Thatcher vowed to smash the gangs (where have I heard that before?) but the reality was the UK had no funding for the operation. The only resource allocated was asking for volunteers within Customs and Excise to apply for a secret job. Steve Coogan heads up the team and oversees recruitment. Not to be wasteful, he reuses his Mick McCarthy voice from Saipan. I guess if you’ve practised a voice but it only has 90 minutes of screen time, you roll it out again.

The protagonist is a man called Guy, who goes from airport bag checker to a gritty James Bond character. He manages to convince the main drug overlords he is in the transport business and can get the biggest haul of heroin into the UK.

It’s never a paint-by-numbers show. And there is also a healthy sprinkling of humour amidst the danger. That danger comes from the duplicity of being in character, or as the show title explains: being in your Legend. The Legend is the character the agents create and inhabit when dealing with the criminal underworld.

Guy talks about his Legend’s feelings but then begins to live them. The Legend is pissed, Guy is pissed. It has I.D. style blurring of where one man ends and his Legend begins. A bit like me. Infamous for hiding behind the persona of Trevor in day-to-day life when I’m really Clive Balls. I understand Trevor’s motivations, and he would argue he tolerates mine. But a Legend, like a Trevor, is more than just good method acting. It is becoming the new identity until you can’t remember the other you as anything other than a different person.

It’s Guy’s intensity that keeps the show driving forward and creates the jeopardy.

This feels like an old school Sunday night drama you’d find on terrestrial TV. Instead, Netflix delivers the best of British to the widest audience. In doing so, it gives us its best offering in years.

9/10

Why I won’t be Staying Up Late in the UK to watch WrestleMania 41

Clive BallsLeave a comment

Over the years, even when my interest with WWE was at a low point, I’ve checked out where  the Royal Rumble and WrestleMania weekends fall. I haven’t always followed through with a watch but there has been many a time I’ve gone in cold, totally out of touch with the product, and given The Show of Shows a chance. 

It is the professional wrestling world’s version of Super Bowl.

This year, despite watching some RAW and SmackDown on the road to WrestleMania, it’s already been decided that a live watch is off the table. The two night fiasco has devolved into a pair of cards that leaves one a little deflated. Sure, the spectacle will be grandiose, there’s bound to be the odd unexpected show stealer, but it looks like 80% mundane filler. 

Cena and Rhodes—even with the poor follow-up to the climax of Elimination Chamber—is still intriguing. I have booed Cena more than most over the years, but the case for him winning a (WWE) record breaking world title outweighs the arguments for Cody Rhodes retaining. The Punk/Reigns/Rollins Triple Threat match has me interested. The glutton for punishment that I am, is hoping for a Seth Rollins win. I don’t expect it. It also shouldn’t headline Night 1. But The Fed seems to be pandering to Phil Brooks. 

Outside of these two matches, others are only catching my attention for the same reason I slow down to look at a car crash.

Charlotte Flair and Tiffany Stratton have about as much chemistry as Seth Rollins and Becky Lynch. You’d never put them together. Unlike the latter, the women’s match we’ll be made to watch at WrestleMania won’t have the unexpected spark and outcome of the Lopez/Quin union. Flair has reverted to type and rather than think of the bigger picture—the match—she has thought only about herself.

I understand that veterans need to put the next generation through their paces. They need to test the new-blood to see if they’re fit to stand at the top. But what Flair does isn’t tough love. It’s self-serving. Or . . . perhaps she is a genius, because there’s real eyes on this encounter now, despite the tepid heat we saw at the start of the build.

Another car crash has been the Jey Uso and Gunther build. WWE fans have a tendency to be simple creatures when it comes to story. While they may complain that AEW lacks storylines, they miss the nuances and long-term dynamic Tony Khan’s promotion provides. In The Fed, just getting everyone to shout “Yeet!” is supposed to be enough to carry a World Title bout. It isn’t. Gunther’s in ring skills will be sorely wasted on Uso, and should he lose, a cheap five minutes of getting the crowd to Yeet along will severely diminish the value of the championship.

WWE knows this has been a weak build to the weekend. You only have to look at the media and PR in recent days. We’ve seen a terrible waxwork of Triple H. Roman Reigns take flack for saying he likes Trump. CM Punk criticised and immediately responding for staying on the payroll of a “MAGA company”. And Nick Khan taking time to mention AEW. Oh, and The Rock posting a pic of him in a NJPW T-shirt.

It’s a classic trick political parties use: if you don’t want people to notice what you’re doing (or not doing), give them distractions.

This further underlines how they have fumbled the John Cena heel move. And instead of making a stellar, must see card, they have made something over the two nights that resembles a set of House shows for a tour.

They haven’t even got every title on the line or represented over the two nights. How can that be? The Show of Shows with more filler than substance.

The best way to watch this year’s WrestleMania will be a day late and using Netflix’s fast-forward function. When AEW suffers a dip, it’s still guaranteed its upcoming PPV will be top-notch. With this weekend’s card as it currently stands, it would take something close to perfection from each performer to turn lacklustre build, uninspiring match choices, and weak media interviews to elevate it to anything approaching Mid.

I hope WWE can prove me wrong. If only for the people attending in person who had to re-mortgage their homes to afford a ticket.