The Hobbit: The Desolation of Smaug (2013) - Review

The Desolation of Smaug is a welcome step up from the trilogy's first installment, although it's still missing a few vital qualities.

With the second installment in Peter Jackson's The Hobbit Trilogy, The Desolation of Smaug picks up shortly after the first ended, as we see the party carrying on with their journey to the Lonely Mountain. First and foremost, and to put it plainly, this is a much better film than the first. Jackson seems to have put his feet firmly on the ground with this one, and it's a great ride to take.

Live Bait Through Dead Weight: Against the Criticism of the Governer-centric episodes of the Waling Dead, and Why They are Entirely Necessary

In 2010 NBC cancelled the once popular serial TV show Heroes, which, for all those who can't remember or didn't watch, followed the adventures and misadventures of a group of individuals who wake up to find that they have each have superpowers. The programme was part television drama, part action comic, and kept it's viewers hooked with the kind of episodic cliffhangers typical of your standard Spanish soap opera. One of the shows primary characters was the emotionally sensitive and lovable Peter Petrelli, presumed dead at the end of Season 1. But during the final moments of the long awaited Season 2 premiere, we saw him chained up, shirtless and with a brand new haircut, chained up by his wrists and shipment container in Ireland. Which was kind of mind-blowing to my 14 year-old self, seeing as the show was primarily set in New York. Then the episode ended, and by the time the next episode rolled around I was on the edge of my proverbial seat to find out, but the following episodes dragged on like crazy, revealing effectively nothing.

Flashforward six years and here we are with two Governer-centric episodes of The Walking Dead that have dragged us away from the main storyline in the prison. It's obvious why this has infuriated a lot of people; when we saw the Governer overlooking the prison in Episode 5 I wanted to jump ahead and find out what was going to happen straight away - what would he do? Was someone going to die? Probably. But here's why these two episodes had to happen, and it manifests in a single word:

Conflict.

Since the season premiere we've seen the increasing threat of zombies making their way into the prison, and Rick and Carl did a mighty fine job of staving off any potential threat by mowing them down video-game style. We've also had sickness and an absence of food. But what we now need is a new threat to provide excitement, and the writers have duly supplied that. The story needs conflict. Something has to be posing a threat to the characters, otherwise it turns into just another run of the mill soap opera, like the ones I previously mentioned, where we as the audience are fed weekly scenes of various characters conversing about deep philosophical issues, or something else faux-profound. Something has to threaten their safety and their livelihoods, and that thing has just stepped in.

Look, I'm not saying that the last two episodes have been great. Heck, Live Bait was one of the dullest hours of my life, only saved by the adverts in between that allowed me some time to get another cup of coffee to keep me awake through the thing. Dead Weight was something of a step up, seeing as it pretty confidently leads onto more prison-centric antics.

On a further note, these episodes were necessary in providing a basis for the Governer's return as the epitome of conflict. What I mean is, if he had returned as he did at the end of Episode 5, emerging from the forest and ready to serve as the primary villain, it would've been so terribly contrived and desparate that I probably would've lost even more faith in the show. There had to be some basis, some further backstory concerning 'Brian' and what he's been up to, rather than just introducing him as an excuse for something to happen.

Indeed, while these last two episodes haven't exactly been some of the best, or the most entertaining or the most well-made, they were unquestionably necessary in the longer run of things. There just better be a big pay-off of entertainment factor in the midseason finale.

Thomas Pynchon, as told by Paul Thomas Anderson; Why the Inherent Vice adaptation will be Excellent

When it comes to Thomas Pynchon, there isn't being in the know and being out of it. There's just the legend of the man/etherreal being himself, and the literature that follows in his wake.

Thomas Pynchon is an author originating in New York... Allegedly. He's published several works intermittently over the past fifty years, the most prominent of which is undoubtedly his magnum opus Gravity's Rainbow, a 900-page, 300,000 word doorstopping behemoth of a novel that spat in the face of literary convention and, in doing so, is now regarded as one of the greatest novels ever written since World War II. But when it comes to the author himself, Pynchon is nowhere to be found. Since 1963 he has successfully evaded the world's press, and as a result there is little to no evidence - aside from his works and the odd youthful picture/paparazzi shot - that he even exists. Some have even suggested that Pynchon may be a group of people writing under a pseudonym, as opposed to a single  man.

Speculation aside, in recent years Pynchon has been considered by many as having scaled down the scope of his works, much in the same fashion as fellow New Yorker Don Delillo. His two most recent novels, Inherent Vice and Bleeding Edge, still utilise a vast array of characters and motifs in their execution, ones that would in fact send most other authors reeling in confusion, but they still haven't matched up to what could be considered as Pynchon's golden age.

One of the most shocking revelations that recently came forward concerning the author was that his novel, Inherent Vice is soon to be adapted by none another than Paul Thomas Anderson himself, director and writer of There Will Be Blood, Boogie Nights and The Master, as well as several other works of outstanding cinema. This is indeed an important event; it's the first occasion on which a Pynchon novel will be adapted for the screen, and you'd be hard pressed to find a better person to pull that off than Anderson. There are a multitude of reasons as to why optimism is a given when it comes to this project.

1. Pynchon himself has (allegedly) approved the script.

This is a rumour that's been circulating for months, and it's just as likely to be credible as not. Pynchon and Anderson have been in contact and Pynchon himself has read the script and given it his blessing. As an aged and seasoned veteran (he celebrated this 76th birthday this year) Pynchon is unlikely to pass on giving his opinion on the script that will provide the basis for his first cinematic adaptation, and if the author himself approves the script you can be pretty sure that it's of a high quality.

2. Joaquin Phoenix will be portraying the lead.

As previously mentioned, Inherent Vice is, at it's heart, a detective story. It's protagonist, Larry 'Doc' Sportello, is a withered pothead, and he'll be portrayed by Joaquin Phoenix, teaming him up on a second consectutive occasion with Anderson after 2012s The Master. Phoenix is renowned for immersing himself in the roles that he takes on, and since production ended earlier this year footage from an extra on the set has emerged of Phoenix in full-Sportello-attire. And it just so happens to be here...

3. Anderson is seemingly immune to failure.

Since Boogie Nights Anderson has repeatedly proved himself to be an exceptional writer/director. His works often have a tendency to examine as well as present, rather than simply the former, and that's what Inherent Vice is all about. It's Pynchon's tribute to 60s and 70s Los Angeles, and all the hedonistic activity that came with it. Anderson is more than adept at examining specific periods in time, as we've already seen his great takes on 1950s post-war America and the turn of the century oil-boom.

'What Does I.T. Really Stand For?'; The Brilliance of The IT Crowd, and why Graham Lineham's Comedy is So Important

There's a marked and primary difference between American and British sitcoms. Most, when asked, would probably say it's the humour, which is a valid point, but not the one I'm aiming at. Others might say that there tend to be more American sitcoms than British ones overall, and they often tend to be more successful, and again this is a great point, but I'm thinking of something else. And that's quality over quantity.

Both American serials and dramas tend to have something of an obsession with the number 20 through 25, because this is often the episode count for a season of production. On the other hand, British shows often only run for six or seven episodes, nine or ten at the most, and while the reason could be pegged to America having a more dedicated platform for media production, I would argue that it's the precedence of quality over quantity in the televisuals that they produce, and one man is at the forefront of this; Graham Lineham.

Graham Lineham - or 'Glinner' to much of his fan base - is the mastermind behind several of the most iconic and popular sitcoms in British television. His career broke out into the limelight in 1995 upon the release of his first full length television series, Father Ted. The sardonic show focused on the exploits of the eponymous Father Ted Crilly and the other larger than life inhabitants of his house on Craggy Isle, a remote and somewhat desolate Irish island seemingly cut-off from the rest of civilisation. Over the last eighteen years it has gone on to become one of the most enduring sitcoms in British televisual history, outlasting just about all of its ilk, and is still broadcast routinely to this day. Shortly after the close of his first hugely popular creation, Lineham's Black Books closely followed. Debuting in 2000, the show ran until 2004 for three hugely successful series, following the obscure day-to-day life of borderline psychotic bookshop owner Bernard Black and his friends Manny and Fran.

With the pre and post millennium-turning sitcom era over, it could have been assumed that Glinner's time as a creator of sitcoms was well and truly over, especially after two such popular television shows. But then, in 2006, Lineham returned with his third concurrent sitcom success. Despite getting off to something of a slow start, The IT Crowd became one of the most popular and iconically relevant programmes in recent years. The premise was simple, and brilliantly so; it followed the employees of the IT department of multi-billion dollar company Reynholm industries, who are confined to an office in the basement. The department is singularly composed of workshy Roy, socially inept genius Moss, and relationships manager Jen, and follows their day-to-day experiences doing the occasional oddjobs for the computer-oblivious workers upstairs, all the while coping with their prodigious ability to get into overwhelmingly awkward and overtly embarrassing situations.

The show succeeds on so many inimitable levels within it's medium. The actors and the characters they portray aren't the make-up drenched type that you'd expect from US production; while they're all very much likable, Moss and Roy are frequently social victims to their line of work and the awkwardness that comes with it, and Jen is, at one point, referred to as 'looking a bit like a man.' That said, the 'beautiful' people tend to exist in the world above, inhabiting the upper floors of the Reynholm Industries building, while the overlooked IT department are confined to the basement; quite literally basement dwellers, in the vein of the stereotyped dungeons and dragons players - an entire episode of which the show is based around. Of course, the characters wouldn't break free so brilliantly from their basic archetypes without one of the shows most important and excellent production aspects, and that's the writing. It's been remarked in the past by Chris O'Dowd that if he phrased a line differently to how it was written in the script, that would be the end of the take; Lineham's writing is careful and minutely controlled, and the comic timing with which the actors execute their lines adds all the more to the sheer presence of apparent quality in the writing and timing of the shows various plots.

However, what separates the IT Crowd most of all from its American sitcom counterparts is Lineham's creative control over it. His admirable quote on ending the series was that he 'didn't want to have the brain be dead but the body still rolling around on the floor.' On the 27th September, just two weeks ago, the show ended with a one-hour special, that being it's 25th episode, tying up the characters stories and bringing it to the close that it very much deserved. Where many sitcoms have a tendency to plow on based on ratings alone, regardless of artistic merit or the quality of production - I'm looking at The Big Bang Theory here, particularly - Lineham chose to end the IT Crowd despite consistently increasing ratings, an original and great premise and a dedicated fan base. It came to an end with its dignity intact and the knowledge that it was smarter than just about all other recent sitcoms.

If you were to watch all 25 episodes it would only take you around 10 hours, likely a little less than that, but those ten hours would be some of the most enjoyable television you could experience in this modern age. The episodes premises frequently revolve around the themes of social awkwardness, embarrassment, humiliation and, on a completely different note, Lineham's seeming obsession with making the concept death comical. They're cringeworthy because of how well they portray embarrassment in the modern age, instead of being cringeworthy for negative reasons - that they might be, simply but, bad. But in ten years time, when The Big Bang Theory enters it's nineteenth season and everyone's praying for something close to a dignified end for the show, one or two people might google the term 'shows like The Big Bang Theory.' And they might just stumble on a seasoned and exceedingly witty sitcom from the UK that ran for just four series before coming to a proper and perfect ending.

Breaking Bad - Season 5, Episode 16, 'Felina' - Review

'I was alive.'

With Felina, TV's greatest drama has come to an astonishing, redeeming, fulfilling end. Breaking Bad's final episode may not have tied up every single minute loose end, but certainly brought the tale of Walter White, chemistry teacher turned drug manufacturer to a brilliant finish. The show couldn't have ended any other way than the way it did.

After we see Walt steal a car, narrowly avoiding a police patrol and leaving his winter retreat, the Gilligan set up one of the tensest pieces of television that I've ever witnessed. I am, of course, referring to the sequence involving Walt's arrival at the Schwartz household. It was obvious from this point that Gilligan himself had directed and written the episode; the whole scene was pulled off with pure formal mastery and genius and, as per, it was impossible to tell whether Walt would apologise or kill both of them. But he didn't. He asked for Andrew and Gretchen to deliver his remaining nine million dollars to his son upon his eighteenth birthday, but as a gift from them, rather than from himself. From this point there's a real and noticeable absence of pride and egotism in Walt, although not completely; he still exercises a strong precedence of fear of the Schwartz's, claiming to have two world-class hitman waiting just outside with sniper dots on their chests, threatening to have them killed if the money never gets passed on... Which appears to be true. That is, until Walt returns to his car and we discover that the two best hitmen west of the Mississippi are in fact Badger and Skinny Pete, armed with laser pointers.

We then see Walt intruding on a meeting between Todd and Lydia, apparently attempting to set up a business deal that is completely and utter false on his part. But what it does allow him is to swap Lydia's tea sweetener for something a little less savoury, that being a dose of ricin. This is made clear by the slow zoom from above, down into the contents of the cup. After this, we see Skyler leave a conversation with Marie that converges into the slow reveal that Walt is standing across from her in the kitchen of her new temporary home. He gives her the lottery ticket alluding to the location of Hank and Steve Gomez's bodies and asks her to strike a deal with the prosecutors. More importantly, in a very poignant moment, he readily admits for the first time that he has done everything for himself. The execution of this line was one of the best Cranston has ever pulled off in the series, to the point of being captivating as the character himself; there wasn't a trace of the actor beneath the beard and straggly hair. He sees his baby and his son one last time before leaving for Uncle Jack's 'clubhouse'.

Prior to this we see him out in the desert, creating a rotating mechanism that works via transmission of his car keys. Before Jack states that he will kill Walt, he brings in Jesse, chained and scarred, for Walt to see that he is not a liar and is indeed been held captive, rather than working as a partner of Jack's crew. Walt pretends to attack Jesse, landing them both on the floor before clicking his car keys and triggering the mechanism, revealing that it is connected to his previously purchased M60 and acts as a rotating device, firing round after round into the clubhouse. This, combined with Walt and Jesse's subsequent revenge against Uncle Jack and Todd, respectively, made for a final vengeful moment that Walt and Jesse shared, proving that they always beat the enemies in their line of business. More so, it acted to establish that Walt no longer cares about recovering his lost money, after Jack attempts to strike a deal with him before Walt shoots him at point blank range.

There was a real and genuine poignancy in the final moments between Walt and Jesse. After Walt has called Lydia to inform her of her impending and unavoidable fate in the most unsympathetic of ways, they share a moment as Jesse is about to get in the car and leave. He looks at Walt and Walt looks back at him, and all they do is nod to each other. Nothing else needs to be said. We know everything that's happened between them, and so do they, as they both realise how their partnership has come to a necessary end. But there's a real sense of gladness between the two, a mutual understanding about the events that occurred over the past two years that would be hard to imitate in any other franchise. It was wonderful to see Jesse riding off into a more solid future, finally in control of where he chooses to go in his life, and hopefully it's a reflection of the woodworking Jesse we saw earlier in the episode, handcrafting a storage box in a unfilled workshop.

Coming to the end of Breaking Bad, as we look down at Walter Hartwell White, aka Heisenberg, drug manufacturer legend and extraordinaire, and above all, family man, you suddenly realise that this has been a story about the celebration of life. As Walt laid his hand on the canister for the last time, almost a goodbye to an old partner in crime, I thought back to the episodes most beautifully honest line; 'I felt alive.' At it's heart this is a story about life, but it's also about reaching a real form of life by rebelling against societal constraints and really doing something bold and dangerous. It's easy to forget that the entire series only takes place over the time frame of just over two years. It's amazing to think about how far Walt has come in two years and I'm betting that, in the world of the show, he's experienced more in that time than he'd ever experienced prior to one wacky day in which he ended up riding through the desert in an RV in nothing but a pair of boots, his underwear and a gas mask, alongside his unconscious ex-student-turned-dealer, having cooked a batch of illegal substances, all the while with two bodies rolling around in the back. Strangely enough I was reminded of the character of Lester Burnham in Sam Mendes's American Beauty; here we have a man who makes one simple decision to change his life forever, and things are never the same.

For all it's drama and heartache, this has been a genuinely funny and ingenious TV show, and one of the best I've ever had the pleasure of watching. Staring up at the ceiling of the lab in his final moments, I hope and bet that Walter White didn't regret a single thing that he did, because I certainly didn't regret watching it, and most of all I didn't regret going along on this psychotic journey with him.

Silver Linings Playbook (2012) - Review

An embracing and original film, Silver Linings Playbook is one of the best romantic comedies in years.

In this day and age, the romantic comedy has become something of a critical joke. Simply calling it that is a tired and cliched statement, even before beginning to discuss the genre itself. So when one comes along that is not only sticking to the old formula, but also using a plot line primarily adapted from a novel, who can say what you'll get? Silver Lining's Playbook has answered this questions in the most surprising way possible.

We follow Pat Solitano (Bradley Cooper) from the day he departs from a mental health facility for initially unknown reasons, although it's clear that he's done something serious in order to get there. He moves back in with his parents, portrayed by Robert De Niro and Jacki Weaver, and attempts to readjust to normal life, despite facing borderline bipolar disorder and severe anger issues. During this period of potential stabilisation, he meets Tiffany Maxwell (Jennifer Lawrence) at a friends dinner party. The plot then follows their bumpy friendship as he Pat attempts to reconnect with his ex-wife - who was primarily involved in his institutionalisation - all the while training for a dance competition with Tiffany. I'd love to say more about the plot, but it would take away from the impact that it gives upon first viewing. What is impressive is that Russell has managed to make a hell of a lot out of something pretty small. By this I mean that the plot isn't that complex, or all that loud, but he's made a great show of examining the individual relationships that the plot presents, which is really what this film is all about from a top-down perspective; relationships.

The performances from the main cast are some of the finest that you're likely to see in any film in the past couple of years. One of the most remarkable aspects of Russell's style is that, while altogether being distinguished and original, it manages to reflect reality in a way that puts his works ahead of the presentations of others. Each and every member of the cast seems to know exactly what he wants, in terms of naturally flowing dialogue, honest performances and genuine emotional connection with the characters that they are respectively playing. Bradley Cooper's portrayal of protagonist Pat Solitano is raw and fearless, and he's managed to keep at bay the risk of being identified as a noticeable actor rather than the character that he's playing. Robert De Niro and Jacki Weaver, who respectively portray Pat's father and mother, are a fine example of excellent casting choices, as is the addition of Chris Tucker as a fellow warm-hearted psychiatric patient alongside Pat. However, it's Jennifer Lawrence's performance that sweeps past the rest in terms of sheer, raw acting talent. Her portrayal of Tiffany Maxwell is both overwhelming and seemingly effortless, and undoubtedly identifies her as one of the more exemplar examples of this generation of actors.

Structurally, Silver Linings Playbook follows the standard four act format leading up to a distinguished and complete resolution. However, this isn't necessarily a vice, despite its overuse in the genre. Conversely, the structure is used to the advantage of the content; Russell is smart enough to realise where his film is going and prevent it from being too derivative of past works. The way in which the final part culminates in the requirements of a parlé - two bets, one outcome - is executed fantastically, and draws away from any flaws of unoriginality. Topped off by Masanobu Takayanagi identifiable cinematography - it'd be easy to assume that he was involved with 2010s The Fighter based on how spectacularly spot-on his work is - and Danny Elfman's successfully minimalistic score, the other production aspects of the film soar in terms of matching Russell's tonal choices. Every aspect of the films production fits together so perfectly that it's a wonder one person didn't have omniscient creative control over the entire project.

It's easy to mock modern day rom-coms for the simple fact of their existence, but this one separates itself from the rest of the herd. What David O Russell has done here is to take the traditional formula and turn it into something fresh, original, and brilliantly entertaining. With all that said, I won't hesitate to conclude that Silver Linings Playbook is a wonderful film, full of angst, humanity and joyous celebrations of love, and I heartily recommend it.

9/10

Breaking Bad - Season 5, Episode 15, 'Granite State' - Review

'Stay a little longer?'

Granite State, Breaking Bad's penultimate episode, brought us in a full, up-to-date circle to the events depicted in the opening of the season five premiere, in which we saw a long-haired, bearded Walt having a lonely birthday breakfast before purchasing an M60 machine gun. Granite State was as good an episode as the show has ever had, and a perfect lead-up to next weeks finale.

In the opening, we finally caught a glimpse of the tentatively titled 'Saul's guy', who just so happens to be casually portrayed by Robert Forster (see Heroes, Olympus Has Fallen). It's clear from the offset that he's placing Saul Goodman into hiding.

In the meantime, we see Skyler in 'terrible trouble' for her suspected involvement with Walt's business. The following scene in which she sits on the sofa, drinking and smoking, while watching the patrol car on the street ouside, gave a great reflection of her disenfranchised state in the wake of the preceding episodes events. The moment in which she steps into baby Holly's bedroom to find Todd and the gang, clad in balaclavas, was a moment so unexpected that it verged on horror-movie-quality, and by that I'm referring to a good horror movie.

Following this, Walt is shown going into hiding in a remote cabin with the assistance of Ed, and seemingly deliberating as to whether or not he should leave his safe zone of exile. His longer-haired, dishevelled appearance is explained by the passage of time, leaving us to presume that he has spent at least a month living in the cabin. On a similar note, there was a moment of real poignancy with regards to Walt's character, during the scene in which he receives his cancer treatment from Ed. He requests that Ed 'stay a little longer', in return for $10,000 of his money. These days just about everybody no doubt finds it easy to hate Walt because of everything he's done, but this moment gave a real reflection of the loneliness that he's feeling as a human being. It was an amazingly simple and yet fantastically executed line that illustrated his existence as a person, rather than a singularly evil force, which initially suggested that the old Walt is still alive somewhere. However, a moment occurring later perhaps suggested otherwise, which I'll come to shortly.

If this was Walt's most heartbreaking moment in the episode, it was topped by the moment in which Jesse hits his head against the car window after watching Todd effectively execute Andrea, brought on as a threat by his escape attempt. The image of Jesse's face filling up the entire screen, his own blood on the car window because he'd hit his head that hard in desparation, was, in my opinion, one of the most disturbing and affecting moments the show has had in terms of shear pity, to the point that it was becoming difficult to watch. This was one of the moments in which Breaking Bad succeeds at becoming truly convincing, as if we're watching real events rather than those that are fictional.

Walt's phone conversation with Walter Jr conveyed a sense of finality with regards to his relationship with his family, as if it has now come to an end, no doubt implied by the events of the preceding episodes excellent depiction of the crumbling of the family. One of the things I found to be most fulfilling about this episode was the closing scene, in which we see Walt sat at the bar, having just called the Alberqueque police department to tip them off about his whereabouts, when all of a sudden Gretchen and Elliot Schwartz appear on the television above the bar. I was very much wondering if and when Gretchen alone would make an appearance, never mind the two of them. There interview with Charlie Rose (played by hismelf) makes two central points. The first is the delcaration that Walt had nothing to do with starting the company other than the name, when we know that he supplied a large amount of the research early on, which feeds his anger to no end as he clenches a napkin into his fist. The other returns to the previous point I made about whether Walt is still inside somewhere, as Gretchen states that 'the sweet, kind, brilliant man we once know is long gone.'

The final moments, as the armed police force enter the bar, only to find an unfinished glass of whisky, a napkin folded into the shape of a swan, and what is likely to be a hundred dollar bill, all shown with the opening credit music overlaying, felt like a nod to the show itself and to the fans that have stuck with it over the years, as if to say that the final episode is going to be a great one. Vince Gilligan himself has returned to write and direct, so there can be little doubt about how great an ending this is going to be. Predictions? I'd love for Walt to get the money to the people who deserve it, for him to raid Uncle Jack's compound and save Jesse in a Django-esque shootout (who'll then go on to start a new life somewhere else) and for Walt to die of his injuries, having redeemed himself and his actions. But, like I said - it's Vince Gilligan.

Here's to the final episode. It's going to be a good one.

Breaking Bad - Season 5, Episode 14, 'Ozymandias' - Review

'We're supposed to be a family!'

Right now I can imagine that the general feeling across the viewership board is a mix of astonishment mixed with an inability to form sentences, specifically with regards to this weeks episode. I'm still trying to wrap my head around it. But I'll make a go of giving a recap and some infinitely positive praise to episode 14, 'Ozymandias'.

Needless to say, spoilers ahead.

The opening showed how the story has really come full circle in it's wide-reaching arc, presenting the very first lie Walt told Skylar concerning hsi meth business. Whether it's a strange thing to start with by saying this, I'm going to say it anyway; kudos to the prop and make-up department for the opener depicting Walt and Jesse on their very first cook. Even though the characters have come a hell of a long way in the past five years, they looked just as amaeutrish/kind-of-normal as they did when they first started up business. The nature of the episodes title is in reference to the eponymous poem by Percy Bysshe Shelley (which made me feel like a true hipster seeing as I'd studied the poem in college) and essentially it refers to the harsh fact that no matter how vast the size of an empire can grow to be, it will eventually fall to the sands of time and be forgotten. Which is exactly what we're seeing in this episode.

This all started with Hank's inevitable death, which finally came ten minutes into the episode, alongside Steve 'Gomie' Gomez's demise, no doubt a shock for many fans seeing as he's quite the lovable sidekick. Rian Johnson's direction screeched profressionalism from the very beginning, particularly in the depiction of Walt's overwhelming remorse in the wake of his brother-in-laws death. This was the first of many difficult-to-watch scenes throughout the episode, and it really set the tone for everything else to come. Of course, the events in the desert had yet to come to a close.

Todd and Uncle Jack's gang find Walt's buried money, which we now discover to amount to $80,000,000. And here was me thinking it was a round a tenth of that. They leave Walt with $12,000,000, and despite this still being an incomprehensibly large amount of money, it gave further credence to the fact that Walt's empire was quickly crumbling; the image of him making his way through the desert, rolling his barrel of money along, couldn't have been more poetic.

Jesse's depiction couldn't have been more heart-wrenching. There were a lot of predictions preceding this episode that Jesse would be captured and effectively used as a slave to cook Walt's distinctive brand of meth, and for once predicitons about where Gilligan would take the story were spot-on. The scene in which he was chained up and bloody-faced in the underground cell was almost unbearable to watch, and we didn't need to be shown Jesse being given a beating to know exactly what had happened to him. He then becomes a slave quite literally, as we see him chained up to cook meth alongside Todd.

One of the biggest literal revelations that came with this episode was Walt's secret life being brought to the forefront, and Walter Jr being made aware of it all. RJ Mitte's performance was nothing short of excellent, especially in the lead-up to the knife-struggle/family-crumbling. On that note, I'm firmly under the belief that the scene in which the family falls to pieces was one of the best few minutes of television in memory, and likely for a generation. Nothing comes to mind as being any better, and it was only exacerbated by the knife fight, when it seemed inevitable that someone would end up on the end of the knife. Furthermore, Walter Jr's phone call to the police made the destruction of the family fully realised, as well as Walt's effective abduction of baby Holly. Every aspect of Johnson's direction, and the production in general, added to the mounting tension throughout this scene, and I've no doubt that, for a few moments, a lot of viewers will have forgotten that what they were watching was fictional, much as I did.

In the final scenes, we see Holly dropped off in the safe hands of a group of firefighters at a station - so she couldn't be any safer - and Walt have a high-pitched and heavily emotional converstion with Skylar over the phone as the police listen in. It appears that the secret is indeed out, now; everyone is aware of Walt's secret life. His apparent-catharsis over the phone could potentially act as a deterrent towards the police; the blame for all of the illegal actions has firmly moved singularly onto his head, rather than his family, particuarly Skylar. We then see him getting into the car belonging to Saul's 'guy', the faceless man who helps people start a new life off the grid, the result of which we've undoubtedly seen in Walt's return to his old house, and his breakfast at Denny's that ended with the delivery of an M60, the use of which is still up for deliberation.

I'd give a conclusion, but I guess my opinion would, at this point, come off as biased, because I have nothing but good things to say about this episode and the show as a whole. Predictions? Walt will get the money he has to the people that need it, save Jesse and go down in a blaze of glory, effectively redeeming itself.

But, hey, it's Vince Gilligan.

Riddick (2013) - Review

A surprisingly entertaining third entry in the franchise.

Prior to the release of The Dark Knight Rises, director/writer Christopher Nolan consciously and boldly stated the most obvious problem with the project: 'How many good third films in trilogies can you name?' And he's a got a point; there really aren't that many. The aforementioned third Dark Knight film and The Godfather: Part 3 are the only ones that comes to mind, and even then they can't really hold a candle to the first two. But the point I'm trying to make here is that, regardless of whether or not Riddick can be considered as a so-called 'threequel', after viewing it I'm heartily under the impression that it's the best of the three in the franchise so far.

It picks up a while after the events of The Chronicles Of Riddick, as we see the titular character narrowly avoid an assassination attempt by his peers, albeit finding himself buried alive on a desolate planet. Things become more and more awry and, with no other options, he decides to launch a distress beacon from an outpost. Two teams show up; a haphazard group of mercenaries with a psychotic leader, and a well-trained team of mercenaries. Both know that Riddick is somewhere in the surrounding area, at which point the story depicts the hunt for Riddick, as well as Riddick's attempts to bring down the two groups and escape the planet.

The first twenty minutes don't give a great first impression; it was a painfully dull affair, as we see Riddick aimlessly roaming around, and I was quickly regretting my decision of paying for a ticket. But then things to a 180 degree turn, and Riddick sharply transgresses into what the franchise does best; it becomes a riveting action-survivalist story, as our protagonist learns how to survive on the relentlessly hostile planet. This is only improved by a sequence depicting his efforts to overcome a group of scorpion-type creatures that infest the planet, as well as his interesting alliance with a dog-like animal who watches his back throughout the story. As a character, Vin Diesel is almost born in the role of Riddick as a no-nonsense survivalist anti-hero. In a way his performance can be likened to Arnold Schwarzenegger as The Terminator, because both use their unique acting abilities to their own advantages in their respective characters. Diesel gives as much of a solid performance as can be expected in a character that is fixed in his need to survive, it is clear that he has plenty of faith and personal investment in the character.

In terms of the rest of the cast, character development goes about as far as you would expect in a film involving clear-cut bounty hunters and mercenaries - there's really very little of it. Jordi Molla's portrayal of the borderline psychotic Santana is relatively solid, although he echoes a distracting likeness to a dishevelled Alfie Boe a lot of the time, which averts from being able to take his character any more seriously than the aggravating pain that he is... Although this is an element that was probably intended based on his (spoilers) eventual and necessary demise. Matthew Nables depiction of Boss John is your typical straight-talking, strong-willed mercenary, and as a result his character isn't anything particularly special. There are arguably anti-feminist/fan-service elements in the depiction of the films only female character, mercenary Dahl, boldly pulled off by Katee Sackhoff. Her character is one of pro-feminism, but how she is portrayed by the camera-man, at times, isn't. 

Structurally it would be easy to assume that this is a typical one vs. ten battle, as if Riddick would slowly and ingeniously pick off his antagonists across the films two-hour running time... Which he kind of does. That is, at least for a little while. But the story eventually reveals itself to be one concerning unionship and general survival, as we see Riddick unpredictably team up with his pursuers in an attempt to survive the planet itself. It becomes a much more predictable affair towards the end, and the conclusion feels like something of a lazy cop-out compared to the rest of the films relatively stable story-telling.

I must admit, I was very much surprised by Riddick. It has it's dull moments, there's no doubt about it, but the bottom line is that a surprisingly large percentage of this film is undeniably intriguing to watch, and if you've already plowed through every other current new release, it's well worth going to see.

The Master (2012) - Review

An intelligent work, minus the soul.

It must be difficult being Paul Thomas Anderson. On the one hand, the man is blessed with originality and has a penchant for making great films, and on the other there's so much expected of his work that it must be a nightmare to stay balanced on the tightrope between confidence and shear smarminess. The Master exists somewhere in the world between these two concepts, and thus, as a result, it's a very conflicted affair for a film that has very little in terms of traditional plot.

The Master follows Freddie Quell (Joaquin Phoenix), a US sailor who has managed to survive World War Two and make his way back to America. But he hasn't returned in pristine condition for a human being; he's psychotic, dysfunctional, sex-addicted and has a penchant for drinking more than would be needed to fell a wild boar without batting an eye. After a series of mishaps during which we come to realise that Freddie isn't exactly cut out for the post-war world, by shear cosmic accident he stumbles onto the ship of polymath Lancaster Dodd (Philip Seymour Hoffman). A charismatic leader, - he being the titular 'master' - Dodd is also the head of a post-war start-up religion named 'The Cause', which bears more than a few similarities to Scientology. Quell becomes a follower of The Cause under Dodd's care, and heavy internal conflict ensues.

Joaquin Phoneix's portrayal of protagonist Freddie Quell is, undeniably, the standout aspect of the film. Phoenix is known for becoming deeply invested in his characters, and Quell is no exception. This is a character that doesn't falter in the slightest throughout the film, especially in terms of his erratic behaviour; there's a genuinity to Quell, and he's a very much believable character in the films wider scope. Contrasting Quell, the character of Lancaster Dodd is effortlessly portrayed by Philip Seymour Hoffman, who pulls off the subtly domineering character in the most natural of ways. Hoffman seems to have a reputation amongst casual film fans as 'that guy from that movie', which can refer to anything in his range of work, but nevertheless he gives a wholeheartedly bold performance alongside the character of Quell. In the sidelines, Amy Adams gives a stellar performance as Dodd's similarly strong-willed wife, who holds her own in the shadow of Quell and Dodd as an influential character all in her own right.

Anderson's films have always maintained a strange relationship with structure; they tend to present us with characters and then bombard them with a series of events until everything breaks down. This may sound like traditional script structure, specifically in the sense of moving towards a resolution of conflict but, without giving too much away, The Master doesn't follow that code. Aside from the films Scientology-mocking undertones, this is also a film about loyalty and independence; it brilliantly depicts the idea of post-war directionless and disillusionment, as Freddie struggles through modern life until he stumbles upon something that can give him meaning, and something that he can dedicate his life to. In a way, Quell and the film itself epitomise Anderson's trademark stamp of including several scenes in each of his films where characters do innanely stupid things, effectively as an offbeat celebration of humanity. Freddie is overwhelmingly dysfunctional, as can be seen in him smashing a toilet to pieces, hitting his back against a bunk bed, running from a variety of people, rubbing his face up against a window and beginning a fight with a customer in one of his early jobs. There aren't particurlarly any spoilers that can be given; in the end he hasn't changed in the slightest, and his personal conflict will likely never be resolved. Nevertheless it's the act of watching him struggle and fight and run from the modern world that proves to be the most captivating experience

Of course, Anderson's mark of quality is laden across every shot in the film. His clean and careful directorial style is unmistakeable, and it singles The Master out as a work of high-quality cinematic craftsmanship; this is film presented as an art form rather than as an entertainment form, which is admirable on Anderson's behalf for being so bold with his creation. At the same time there's also a sense that Anderson is pushing himself too deep into his own style. In a sizeable way, he seems to have skipped over many important story-telling aspects, specifically in giving the film more direction and insight as to what is actually going on; it's not so much like watching a film as it is being presented with a series of events that vaguely relate to the previous ones we've seen. There's a almost a sense of complacency about the whole film, although this could just be Anderson finally letting himself do films the way he wants to make them, with a mindset of self-conscious intelligence that doesn't go overboard on itself.

This is a film for viewers who are knowledgable about Anderson's previous work and who have a decent knowledge of cinema itself. Personally speaking, I doubt that I would be able to view it a second time, because it's something of a demanding watch. There are some truly mesmerising and astonishingly brilliant scenes scattered throughout the film, especially those that singularly follow Quell and Dodd, that unquestionably prove Anderson's genius, and these deserve to be rewatched, but as a whole the film has an essence of soullessness about it, and it damages the impression given by the conclusion.

3.5/5

Breaking Bad - Season 5, Episode 13, 'To'hajiilee' - Review

'Don't drink and drive. But if you do, call me.'

As Jesse iconically said; 'He can't keep getting away with this!' However, I'm using the quote to suitably refer to Vince Gilligan. They don't come in a much more devious fashion.

Firstly, my prediction about Jesse's line, 'hitting him where he really lives', referring to telling Walter Jr about Walt's secret life, was way off. Jesse's line about Walt doing the exact opposite of what you expect him to do is effectively an analogy for Gilligan himself; no matter what prediction you make, he'll always surprise you by doing the exact opposite.

There are couple of things to look at in this episode. Huell received the most prolonged screentime in the his fictional history during this episode, as he unwittingly betrayed Walt and handed details over to the Hank and Gomez. As a result, the money became the central aspect of this episode, as we saw a race between Walt and Hank to get to it. This linked in largely with the rest of the episode; during the scene in which Saul made an appearance at the car wash, there was this brilliant sense of unity between every one of the main characters, as if they're all being brought together for the inevitable showdown that's soon to occur.

However, the most tension emanated from the aforementioned sequence in which Walt meets Hank, Gomez and Jesse at the site on which the money is buried. This also gave a sense of unity, as if everything was coming full circle; Jesse himself points out that the burial site is where they made their first cook over a year ago. As Walt was walking towards Hank, utterly defeated, I kept expecting a bullet to come flying out of nowhere, almost a deus ex machina, as if Walt would have another trick up his sleeve. But it was sheer chance that Todd and his Uncle Jack made an appearance. Because a lot of the time it's difficult to remember whose really in charge, and that's Vince Gilligan. He's conjured up that sense of control in a television series that is astonishingly rare to find, as if everything has been leading up to this point, almost as if he's had a plan all along as to how the show will culminate. He's exercised his creative control in the most mature of ways.

That said, there was a trickster-element about the end of the episode, particularly the cliff-hanger. As Todd, Uncle Jack and the rest of the neo-nazi crew show up with the intention of picking off Jesse, they find Hank and Gomez standing in the way, much to the shock of Walt. He and Jesse are caught between these two conflicting forces, those being the DEA and Todd's gang. They've lost their grip on the empire that they built together, and there's bound to be collateral damage when these two opposing forces meet.

I'll make another prediction, just for the sake of routine, and because, y'know, I love being wrong. Hank's phone call to Marie couldn't have been more indicative of the fact that he's going to be killed shortly. Marie looking down into the garbage can and seeing the brain-type-thing that Hank used to fake Jesse's death to Huell gave an overwhelming sense of foreboding, and Hank's words over the phone was effectively him saying goodbye to Marie, and that he would be 'gone a while', or something to that effect. But I'm not going to guess how he gets killed, I'm just going to keep it general.

This episode escalated the tension and the grit to new levels that viewers rightly deserve. Once again, Breaking bad has proved itself to be a show that always pays off on the investment put into it. Roll on Episode 14.

I'll no longer be reviewing Under The Dome

After this episode I can indeed confirm that Under The Dome is a soap-opera.

With little regret I've decided to stop reviewing Under The Dome. The main reason for this is that, after Episode Three, it's delivered it's own nail in the coffin and resigned itself to a soap-opera. It's undeniable; even the background music echoes it. This isn't to say that I'll stop watching it; I'm definitely going to give the next few episodes a chance, but I find it insulting to everyone to have review something such as this show. It's like reviewing Pitbull songs. So, for the moment, I'm sticking with Breaking Bad and the much anticipated end to it's five-year run.

Breaking Bad - Season 5, Episode 12, 'Rabid Dog' - Review

'Would you like some coffee?'

First off, I guess I'll start by mentioning that I was way off with my spray-paint-Jesse-Heisenberg prediction. So sue me, it seemed pretty plausible.

The prolonged cold opener to this episode left me with a total absence of fingernails, chewed up in the cliched advent of Walt opening the door at the end of the hallway to find - nothing. Dammit, Vince. Because in a break from chronology, we saw Hank abruptly preventing Jesse from setting Walt's house on fire, which made way for some stellar awkwardness in the Schrader household. The brief beats between Jesse and Marie were hilarously painful to watch, almost in identical comic fashion to the brilliantly executed dinner scene between Jesse, Walt and Skyler.

Really, the prevalent thing to take away from this episode is that Jesse is now adamant on bringing Walt down, and that he's going to 'hit him where he lives.' What this refers to is up for deliberation. Will they tell Walter Jr about Walt's secret-trade? Potentially. Although it should also be pointed out that Hank doesn't care whether or not Jesse dies - 'Pinkman gets killed, we get it all on tape'. It's clear that he's willing to take Walt down, whatever the cost, and so he isn't that juxtaposed with Walt anymore.

In the round, this was the slowest-burning (no pun intended) episode of the season so far. What can be expected is the trait exhibited in every other season of the show; the season finale will be indulgent, gripping, action-packed, gritty and jaw-dropping. Make no mistake.

White Noise (Novel, 1985) - Review

A powerful novel executed with astounding control, White Noise is that rare kind of work whose message will never age (contextual pun somewhat intended).

I'm ashamed to admit that prior to picking up White Noise on an impulse, I hadn't heard of Don DeLillo. I was aware of the names of some of his other works, namely Cosmopolis, but if asked I wouldn't have been able to match an author to the novel.

White Noise takes place in and around a surrealist North American College, named 'The College On The Hill' and is told from the point of view of Hitler Studies expert and tutor Jack Gladney. Jack lives with his fifth wife, Babette, and their four children, some of which are his, some of which are from Babette's previous relationships. Jack has various minor conflicts to overcome in his life, such as his relationships with his family and friends and his frustration over not knowing how to speak German despite being the foremost figure in the his field of study. But the primary conflict is an internal one; Jack is terrified of dying. He frequently obsesses over the nature of his life and how he is effectively waiting to die, as well as dwelling on the topic with Babette in the form of blackly comic pillow talk. And all this becomes magnified when a big problem arises; a train car containing the chemical 'Nyodine D' explodes a little way from Jack's hometown, releasing a toxic cloud that's headed his way. In the wake of this, Jack is finally forced to come head-on with his obsessive fear of death.

The first part of the novel could be perceived as being absent of any forthright plot, as it's really an extensive introduction in itself to Jack's life, as well as introducing some of the other topics that novel examines, such as token intellectualism in the academic community and the consumer culture that Gladney finds himself becoming embroiled in. Considering that White Noise was first published in 1985, it isn't difficult to see why it brought DeLillo to international prominence amongst the Postmodern movement; a lot of the ideas involved are way ahead of their time. DeLillo seems to have a gift of ironic observation, undoubtedly being able to see things that, at the time, most people would have been completely unaware of. In describing various occurrences in his daily life, there's also a wryness and a genunity to DeLillo's writing that is to be envied; it's that well-written, to the point that Jack Gladney becomes very much convincingly real as a person.

From the synopsis alone it could be assumed that the plot concerns Jack's fear of death before focusing entirely on 'The Airborne Toxic Event' (from which Part Two derives it's name) for the remainder of the novel's duration. Against expectations, the event lasts for perhaps a fifth of the novel. With admirable ingenuity, DeLillo shifts the narrative to depicting what happens in the shadow of the event, as post-calamity life kicks in and Jack has to deal with being exposed to said-radiation, and the knock-on possibility of his own demise. I won't give any more away with regards to the plot, because the finale is a real treat in terms of shear story-telling brilliance. I will, however, mention that it later touches upon the themes of religion, infidelity, pharmaceuticals and even the prospect of murder.

At it's heart, this is a wonderful novel. While it does have black comedy in heavy abundance, behind it all is an honest message about seeing death as an inevitability, and accepting it rather than dwelling on the idea alone. Plainly put, White Noise is one of the most well-written works I've had the pleasure of reading in quite some time, and I would unquestionably recommend it.

Under The Dome - Episode Two: The Fire - Review

Simply put, Under The Dome has quickly revealed itself to be a soap.

I have this idea that there's just one thing that it takes for a viewer to make an investment in a TV show. Just one, and I'm going to share that with you right now. That one thing is character realism. And by that I mean making your characters, at least the primary ones, actually seem like real people, rather than two-dimensional plot devices. It worked for The Wire, and it certainly worked for Breaking Bad, but the creators of Under The Dome just don't seem to have a grasp on that. I mentioned last week that I enjoy shows that indulge themselves in their own silliness, but there's a difference between being knowingly silly and being downright annoying.

Not one of the characters in Under The Dome seems to have any essence of realism. Big Jim Rennie (Dean Norris) is the staple town councillor, seemingly nice at first but soon-to-be turned power hungry as we previously witnessed small-town beard-clad chief of police Duke die after his pacemaker malfunctioned. Then there's the poor-man's archetypal American Hero Dale Barbara, who's in possession of about as much personality as secondary antagonist/control freak Junior Rennie, who's convinced he can keep his ex-girlfriend locked in an underground bunker in order to convince her to get back together with him. Brilliant.

During this weeks episode, the majority of the main cast also managed to establish that they are, in fact, living inside of a dome. Which is a strange coincidence, because the name of the show is... Wait a minute... Also brilliant.

What also angered me was the fact that the military seemed to be presented as a group of half-wits who don't have the capacity to acknowledge what's right in front of them. There's a scene in which two teenagers, Joe McAlister and Benny Drake are stood on the inside of the dome while 'top-secret' members of the military spray water against the dome, likely to be a pretty covert experiment. And yet the military just stand there and carry on. In almost exactly the same situation, Barbie and Julia throw tennis balls against the dome and wave their arms about while soldiers on the other side stand there like buffoons. But then I guess it is America, where 'they' don't tell the public anything. Ever.

Another problem I had was when Barbie and Joe meet each other while Joe is measuring the dome; this logic comes shortly after it's mentioned that the dome has a diameter of ten miles, so I found it pretty unlikely that they would just so happen to 'run into each other.'

On top of all this, the episode really did save the best till last. After the town grouped together to put out a house fire that could have potentially suffocated them all, we saw one of the token cop characters go a little off the rails and shoot the wall of the dome, only to have the bullet bounce off and hit one of his co-workers straight in the chest. This is where I return to my previous point about character realism; the moment just didn't get to me. The character, Freddy, was Deputy Esquivel's brother-in-law, who had a grand total of around four lines in the whole episode. It didn't get to me that he had been shot, it was just a thing that happened. I've always admired shows like The Walking Dead and Spooks, where it's true that just about any character can die at any time, and all bets as to who will get picked off next are a shot in the dark. But those shows succeeded in actually making you care about the characters in said situations. Under The Dome has a serious lack of that.

Here's hoping episode three will be an improvement, or I'll seriously consider having to abandon it.

Breaking Bad - Season 5, Episode 11, 'Confessions' - Review

'We've got a big problem.'

I'll start by saying one thing; based on the main conflicts of this episode alone, we're in for a season finale that will have to try very, very hard to disappoint. 'Confessions' was just about as close to perfection as TV drama can possibly get. All of this praise is focused on two arcs in particular.

The first was Hank and Marie's conflict with Walt (and, admittedly Skyler). Before the four meet up we see a brief clip of Walt sitting before a video camera, apparently confessing his crimes, but before we can see the rest of the clip the two factions that are the White's and the Schrader's meet up for dinner, in one of the most sublimely executed scenes in the season so far. In a scene of this contextual magnitude there's obviously a lot of pressure on the director and the writer to pull it off, but it was done with spectacular control. The tension between the two sides was almost unbearable, made all the more hilarious by the frequently returning appearance of an innocent waiter who's just trying to be a genuinely nice guy. On a minor side note, that's three for three on the inclusion of a blackly comic moment in every episode of this season so far, the other two being 1) Badger's Star Trek script, and 2) Huell and Kuby's bed of money. But the scene quickly returned to it's deeply gritty nature with Walt pushing the disc across the table towards Hank and Marie. Of course, I was convinced; I genuinely thought Walt would be confessing, but no such luck.

No, Hank and Marie stand like tall in front of the television screen before effectively transforming into unwilling puppets. Walt's 'confession' consists of 'revealing' that it is, indeed, Hank who is actually the infamous drug lord that the DEA have been unsuccessfully chasing down for the better part of the last year. Not only this, but Walt makes this concocted story actually seem believable to someone out of the know - he cites supposed 'connections' Hank has made in the business, his own cancer diagnosis as a means of supporting his innocence, stating that the hit that was made on Hank was actually executed as an attack from one drug lord (Gus Fring) to another, as well as Hank's medical bills and even the bruise on Walt's eye as being caused by Hank. This is a moment of realisation on two levels; 1) We now know that Walt has Hank bang to rights without question, and 2) This is how television should be done. This is how plotting should be done. It comes across like Gilligan has had this planned from the beginning, rather than just having made it up while going along. The only question that remains here is this; what will Hank do next?

The second was Jesse's internal conflict. We see him in the interrogation room, with the episode picking up right where the last ended, although we get an interesting depiction of the passage of time from Jesse's perspective, as it speeds up during his conversation with the two detectives. Hank then enters the room and what follows is an understandably awkward conversation, although Jesse's comic delivery of 'Eat me' lightened up the good cop bad cop routine that Hank was attempting to pull off. A large part of Confessions concerned Jesse's loyalty to Walt as well as his moral standpoint when it comes to the actions that they have made singularly and in partnership. It's important to note the juxtaposition that was interestingly presented at the beginning of the episode, as Todd relayed the story of the train robbery to his Uncle Jack while omitting the part about shooting the boy on the motorbike, something he did without hesitation and which Jesse attempted to protest against in the split second before it occurred. Conversely, Jesse obviously has a set of morals when it comes to such acts, and as we see him suddenly realise what Walt has done, he doesn't hesitate in exacting revenge upon him. Just as we think Walt has saved himself by convincingly pinning the blame on Hank, another huge problem has reared it's head.

With regards to the intense cliffhanger involving Jesse's petrol-pouring antics, I will make some predictions. I don't know if he'll set the house on fire, even in light of the way it's depicted in 'Blood Money.' It just doesn't seem right, because that explanation is too easy, although I might just be over-complicating thing. However, I will predict that Jesse spray paints 'Heisenberg' across the living room wall. What better way to leave an insulting message, especially in a fit of rage?

Roll on Episode 12.

Under The Dome - Episode One: Pilot - Review

An entertaining opener to a relatively promising new series.

Stephen King's original 2009 novel, Under The Dome, followed a small holiday town in America who become completely cut off from the outside world when an invisible and seemingly impenetrable dome comes down upon them. The novel itself was one of his best in years; even though it was just shy of 900 pages, it ended up being, to use old ancient cliche, a real page turner. Now the novel has been adapted to the small screen, following the lives of the inhabitants of Chester's Mill as they come to terms with life inside the dome.

Episode One took a full hold of the shows intriguing concept, although it has to be mentioned early on for those that read the book; there are quite a few differences in the story between the two. Needless to say, SPOILERS AHEAD.

The episode began spectacularly, mainly because (and I'll admit I'm being a little self indulgent here, but I have to emphasise) the scene depicting the moment at which the dome comes down was just about exactly how I envisioned it occurring in my head when I was reading the novel. Furthermore, we're introduced to Dale 'Barbie' Barbara (Mike Vogel), something of a variation on the all-American hero, who could even be considered something of an anti-hero based on the fact that the pilot opened on him burying a corpse, which varies a tad from the source material. But, then again, King himself has stated that the show incorporates variations due to the fact that prose and television are two entirely different mediums, which is fair enough.

One of the programmes most positive aspects is the character of Julia Shumway, who has been cast in  a pretty much spot-on fashion to be played by Rachelle Lefevre. Her relationship with Barbie is going to likely going to be one of the best sections of the programme, considering that we're made aware of the fact that Dale has, in fact, killed Julia's husband, albeit in self-defence (see the previously mentioned body-disposal).

All good things aside, there were several aspects of the shows general production that made me shake my head in the most pretentious way. The CGI was one of the primary problems; it has an overwhelmingly painful similarity to Mega Python vs. Gateroid at times, I'm thinking specifically of when the dome first comes down, as we see a destroyed plane come plummeting towards one of the main cast only to have Barbie push him out of the way just in time, as well as the almost blackly comic moment when an unlucky cow is cut in half and we have the pleasure of witnessing a perfectly symmetrically severed bovine cross-section. Some degree of exemption has to be given to the cheap effects though, because, after all, Under The Dome is still a TV show, and therefore doesn't have the kind of hefty budget to egotistically swing around like so many of the summer blockbusters. Kudos can at least be given to the production team and the writers for having the guile to include such bloody images.

I have a soft spot for TV shows that have a kind of self-awareness in their stupidity, in that they know they're just mindless entertainment and they don't try to be anything else, and that's what Under The Dome is all about. While watching it I was, to a pretty large extent, reminded of the cult series Jericho. Fans of it will likely find Under The Dome to be something of an unintentional spiritual successor. There's no question about it being a silly programme, but it executes it's silliness for all the right reasons.

Breaking Bad - Season 5, Episode 10, 'Buried' - Review

'México. S'all I'm saying.'

Despite this weeks episode, 'Buried', being a little bit of a step down compared to the season premiere, it was still a great episode, and here's why.

In traditional Breaking Bad style, the show opened by teasing a vital aspect of the continued storyline; the slow-burning introductory scene saw the aftermath of Jesse's faux-Robin Hood escapade through the sprawl of Alberqueque, having thrown stacks of money from his car. The image of him, very much hollowed out, gave a great sense for the disillusionment that Jesse has experienced, and his character gave a heck of a lot to the episode's continuity, despite hardly being in it, which I'll come to towards the end. Structurally, the episode picks up after this right where the last one left off, in a scene brinking on comic-awkwardness, perhaps even pushing into it. Both Walt and Hank make an attempt to call Skylar - before Walt realises what Hank is doing and shoots him a spectacularly chosen look from Bryan Cranston. That moment alone further solidifed the fact that Cranston really has embraced the character(s) of Walt/Heisenberg.

Of course, undoubtedly the most solidly acted performance in the episode was from Anna Gunn, who portrayed Skylar with all depth of a woman whose idyllic view of family life and a future is beginning to collapse in on itself, especially when considering her confrontation with Hank at the diner. This scene was a prime example of the quality of Breaking Bad's writing, as its always held a strong grasp on back and forth dialogue between two characters, especially in a situation as awkward as the one beheld by Hank and Skylar. It allowed for something of a breather in between the shows more tense moments, and really helped to make clear how much of a psychological toll the truth has taken on Walt's friends and family.

I have this idea that all of the very best dramas need to include some element of comedy, however small they may be. To go off on a slight tangent, the first thing that comes to mind is Paul Thomas Anderson's films - see There Will Be Blood for 'I. Drink. Your. Milkshake!' As well as The Master for Joaquin Phoenix's depiction of Freddie Quell as he slams his back into the underside of a prison bunk while handcuffed. But with regards to Breaking bad in particular, I am, of course, referring to the downright brilliant conversation between Hule and Kuby, Saul Goodman's half-assed comic goons as they are sent to move Walt and Skylar's (literal) mountain of money, and instead end up lying on it, face up, in one of the most brilliant displayed depictions of the odd-couple in TV history.

After Walt has buried the money - staying true to the act of having the title relate to some aspect the respective episode's content - we saw Marie confront Skylar about her situation, establishing that Hank has inevitably told her about Walt. This scene further saw the disentiegration of the relationships between these four characters, as well as showcasing an emotionally-wrenching depiction of the breakdown between Skylar and Marie, as Betsy Brandt pulled off a brilliantly restrained performance consiodering she slaps Skylar in a knuckle-bitingly awkward moment. But the fact is, as Skylar faught to keep baby Holly from being taken away by Marie, as well as her conversation with Walt shortly after this in which they make arrangements to stay quiet, it could be that we're finally about to see the emergence of Mrs Heisenberg. During her dialogue with Walt on the bathroom floor, there's a sense that she is confronting the prospect of having to stay quiet, while Walt seems to confirm his original intentions, that being to ensure his family's safety.

Towards the end we were also offered an insight into Lydia's varied 'interests' as she has likely the most underrated character in the show, Todd, as well as several faceless henchmn, kill off her ex-business partners. The execution of the this scene was also rather brilliant, as it gave an increased sense of depth with regards to the kind of character that Lydia is. She's perfectly comfortable having people killed off without hesitation, just as long as someone else does it and she doesn't have to see the aftermath. While I've previously voiced my dislike for Lydia as a character, a lot of credit must admittedly be given for Laura Fraser's acting abilities in pulling off a controlled performance of such an awkard character.

Before the final scene, Hank faces the possibility that he will very likely be fired if he reports the truth about Walt to his employers, seeing as the person he's been looking for has been 'right under [his] nose this whole time,' which can assumedly mean that things won't hit the fan for at least a little while. That was my initial thought before the episode came to an end as Hank shuts the door into the interrogation room, which just so happens to contain... A post-cathartic Jesse. As I previously mentioned, Jesse seems to have lost interest in life now that this 'blood money' has found its way to his doorstep, and the final scene reinforced this point, as he sits before the two interrogators, staring into space, unblinking. Judging by his apparent state of mind, he could very easily bring Walt's world screaming and on fire to the ground.

Despite taking a minor step down from the premiere, the episode still stands above the quality of just about every other show on TV, and the gravitas of the final moments leaves plenty of speculation in the shadow of the next episode.

The only other question I have is;

Where the hell has Walter Jr disappeared to?

Pacific Rim (2013) - Review

While it boasts spectacular visuals and a great thrill ride, Pacific Rim is a relatively forgettable affair.

Guillermo Del Toro's career amazes me. He's swept effortlessly through a fantastic filmography, ranging from Spanish fairytale horror to obscurist superheroes. With Pacific Rim, he's surprised his audience yet again with something completely different, and with enough guile to be admirable all on it's own.

The primary plot of Pacific Rim takes place in 2025, where humanity is in the last days of the war with the 'Kaijus'; gargantuan Godzilla-esque monsters that have emerged from a portal in the Pacific ocean. Since their appearance in 2013, the humans have been fighting back against the Kaijus with Jaegers; equally massive combat robots designed to engage in battle with the Kaijus. But twelve years later, with the Jaeger project on the verge of discontinuation, Stacker Pentecost (Idris Elba) pulls together a rag-tag team of ex-Jaeger fighters, for the purpose of launching a final effort against the Kaiju's, with the intention of staving off the increasing number of monsters and using a nuclear bomb to close the portal once and for all. Of course, there are a few more details crucial to the plot, especially when it comes to incomprehensibly huge robots. The fact that they are so big means that they require two pilots in order to undertake the weighty mental toll that they inflict. And so our protagonists, the emotionally damaged Raleigh Beckett (Charlie Hunman) and the equally traumatised Mako Mori (Rinko Kikuchi), step up to the plate to lead the pack.

With a plot like this, it's no surprise that Pacific Rim's most stand-out trait is it's CGI-laden visuals. The sequences depicting the fights between the Jaeger's and the Kaiju's are as enjoyably indulgent, in terms of sheer spectacle, as CGI can possibly get. This is also probably the first instance of a film where I've stopped during an action scene to think for a moment about the quality of the sound. I find it difficult to even imagine how overwhelmingly complex it must have been to compose and edit the audio for this film, so due kudos has to be issued to the editors on that front. But in terms of viewing the film from a birds-eye perspective, Del Toro has stated that he intended to create something that was 'madly in love' with it's obvious influences, and Pacific Rim does just that; the simple presence of the monsters identifies it as a tribute to the giant Japanese monster movies of previous generations. However, while keeping all this in mind, the script still makes a reasonable effort of giving considerable attention to the human side of the conflict.

While credit has to be given to Del Toro for his, quite simply put, ballsiness in going ahead with a film of this size and calibre, it also has to be given in equal measure for making a go of including actual, real characters. Often with films of this scale it's easy to lose track of the characters operating the literal giant robots, but Del Toro hasn't made that mistake here. It was likely a deliberate move to make the pilots of the Jaegers connected psychologically; as previously touched upon,this means that both pilots see into each others memories, meaning that there has to also be an emotional connection between the two. Solid efforts are given by Hunman and Kikuchi, especially considering the occasionally weak material that they are given, as well as an unsurprisingly strong performance from Idris Elba, who portrays the straight-talking war veteran Stacker. There's also a well-casted appearance from Ron Perlman as a black market-esque dealer (having previously worked with Del Toro on the Hellboy films), and a well-balanced sub-plot involving Charlie Day and Burn Gorman as conflicting Kaiju-obsessors.

But on a more negative note, Pacific Rim does have several downsides. Despite the inclusion of weight given to the actual characters, it does, for the most part, feel largely disconnected from the action that we see involving the Jaegers. At times it also feels as if Del Toro is just getting the character-related aspects of the story out of the way for good measure so that he can move straight into said-'good stuff.' And while the film does stay true to itself as an original piece of cinema rather than singularly acting as a tribute, at times there really feels as if there's a deep absence of reason for the whole thing.

While Pacific Rim dives headfirst into the definition of what it means to be a summer blockbuster, it also embodies the vices of this definition. True, it's a great afternoon thrill ride that I'd definitely recommend taking, but I'm confident that most viewers will have forgotten about it by the time they're digging into their post-cinema meal.

3/5

Breaking Bad - Season 5, Episode 9, 'Blood Money' - Review

'Tread Lightly.'

And so, Breaking Bad has returned with an unsurprisingly brilliant episode to begin the second half of it's fifth and final season. 'Blood Money' was a fantastic episode to kick off the shows return, with some of the most tense and gritty moments in the shows history. So far, that is.

The traditional use of in media res was, quite literally, jaw-dropping. The image of the abandoned and derelict White Household, assumed to be an image from a year or so after the present tense judging by Walt's equally derelict appearance, was overwhelmingly haunting, especially that of the skaters using the emptied pool in the White's back garden. Initially the idea came to mind that it may have been for some other reason, as we've seen foolingly similar flashforwards in the past that tend to involve planes, but then it appears; 'HEISENBERG', spray-painted in block capitals on the living room wall. Sure, it could have been from a post-world-collapse admirer, but the possibilities are endless - for all we know, Walt could have sprayed it on the wall in a fit of egotistical indulgence and the house could be abandoned for some other reason. As for his reason for returning, we see Walt retrieving the capsule of ricin from behind the plug socket in his bedroom, the reason for which is unknown and totally down to speculation, although you can bet it has something to do with killing someone. With a final reference to this scene, the reaction of Walt's neighbour, Carol, has to be noted. She is so shocked to see him that she literally drops what she's holding. But it's still down to speculation - as I've said, for all we know, Walt could have faked his death and Carol was simply responding under the impression of seeing a ghost, so to speak.

In the present tense, we see Hank's response to the notion that Walt is, indeed, Heisenberg, the notorious drug manufacturer that he has been chasing over the last 55 episodes. Credit has to be given to Dean Norris for his portrayal of Hank - his break down in the wake of this upcoming theory was nothing short of sublime, as well as his performance when he comes face to face with Walt in his garage, which I'll come to in a little while.

We saw Walt and Skylar contemplating opening a second car wash for the purpose of laundering their money, a plan which is likely to fall apart in future. This scene also saw the return of Lydia, likely one of the most annoying characters in the shows excellent cast, as she attempts to coerce Walt into returning to the meth business. Skylar's confrontation of Lydia supplied some tension before the advent of the episodes chilling ending.

Meanwhile, Aaron Paul's perfect portrayal of Jesse Pinkman remained consistent as ever, as we see him becoming disillusioned in the face dealing with the ten million dollars that he received from Walt in the previous episode. There's also an hilarious monologue from his friend Badger (Matt Jones), who pitches an idea for a Star Trek script to Skinny Pete (Charles Baker), which, while not really relevant to the main story in the episode, is one of the most memorable aspects of it.

After Jesse has paid a visit to Saul Goodman (Bob Odendirk), who is undoubtedly a cult character in the making, another painfully poetic scene is delivered as Jesse drives his car through the economically down-trodden neighbourhoods of Alberqueque, throwing stacks of $10,000 bills into the gardens of homes, as well as, in a preceding scene, giving the same amount to a homeless man.

Of course, 'Blood Money' saved the best for last. Hank's confrontation of Walt was incredibly unexpected, and it was apparent even before he delivered a right cross to Walt's cheek; hats off to the writers for coming up with the idea of Hank closing the automatic garage door. When he presses the button and the darkness slowly fills up the room, the tension escalated to heights that the show has somehow rarely reached in the past. The performances of both Norris and Cranston were executed with such grit that the scene was almost overwhelming, particularly the final words of the episode from Walt, in response to Hank's 'I don't even know who I'm talking to'; 'If you don't who I am, then maybe your best course... Would be to tread lightly.' Walt spoke the first part of the sentence, but it was Heisenberg who spoke the second. The shot holds on Cranston and you can genuinely see the transformation happen right in front of your eyes, as he changes from Jekyll to Hyde.

The episode effortlessly sets up for the remaining seven episodes and the much-anticipated finale of the series. It provided a fantastic plataeu for the inevitable and impending conflict between Walt and Hank, and somehow managed to give viewers even more than they were expecting, by giving real focus to the confrontation between Hank and Walt. There's no doubt things are about to get a whole lot more tense.

The Tree Of Life (2011) - Review

A work of staggering beauty and wonder, The Tree Of Life is one of the most overwhelmingly powerful films in decades.

Firstly, I think it's a fair comment to say that in ten, twenty, or even fifty years time, The Tree Of Life will be recognised as Terrence Malick's magnum opus. It's that good. The reason for this is that the film identifies Malick as a real person, rather than some existential, ethereal force of whom we have fewer legitimate pictures that we do of bigfoot. Because the film is based on something likely very personal and important to Malick himself, that being his own childhood

The Tree Of Life follows a midwestern American family in the 1950s, which includes the father, Mr O'Brien (Brad Pitt), Mrs O'Brien (Jessica Chastain), and their two sons, Jack (Hunter McCracken) and R.L. (Laramie Eppler). Their lives in a seemingly idyllic American suburb are parallelled with a narrative following the present day, in which the family, including a much older Jack (portrayed by Sean Penn) come to terms with the news that R.L. has been tragically killed. Of course, a film by Malick wouldn't be complete with some radical aspect; we're also running alongside the origins of the universe and the first forms of life.

Much of the primary conflict comes from the two boys and their relationships with their parents. Mr O'Brien is failed musician who now works as a relatively unsuccessful patent clerk, and he takes a largely hypocritical stance in taking his anger out on his family through various means, while he is perfectly contrasted by Mrs O'Brien, a figure of ease and love in the boys eyes.

In terms of a purely visceral perspective, The Tree Of Life is, without question, a masterpiece. Malick's instantly distinguishable and confident style is washed over every single frame of the film; minute details of the lives of the O'Briens are examined, not in a day-to-day sense but in a more emotional fashion. Malick's signature technique of using the brief stream of consciousness-esque snippets of the characters thoughts throughout the film make it all the more emotionally brilliant - there's a genuity to the film that's present from beginning to end.

But likely the most impressive aspect of The Tree Of Life's visual and audatic qualities is what takes place outside of the lives of the family. As previously mentioned, we're thrown through the entire universe - the two and a half hour running time sends us across the far reaches of space, allowing us to witness the birth of, well, everything. Stars explode and planets are born, all through the use of extended sequences of astounding CGI work that are admittedly impressive. And, while not giving too much away... There are indeed dinosaurs, which has polarised a lot of peoples opinions about this film.

On a less dinosaur-related note and one that's more human-focused, the actors performances are all impressively evocative. Most notable are Jessica Chastain's portrayal of Mrs O'Brien, and Hunter McCracken as Jack. Chastain gives a performance of fantastic restraint, as if she might break at any moment of the film, while McCracken is equally impressive, especially at such a young age.

The Tree Of Life is life-affirming to the point that everyone owes it to themselves to see it. Works that have the capacity to define what it is to be human are few and far between, and that's assuming that they exist at all. But if they do, The Tree Of Life is one of them.

Gangster Squad (2013) - Review

The epitome of classically structured films, Gangster Squad is a perfect example of a film that's just plain, stupid fun.

Gangster Squad takes place among the hedonistic heavy drinking/smoking citizens of post-world war II Los Angeles. The city is in the vice-like grip of ruthless mob boss Mickey Cohen (Sean Penn), and Chief Bill Parker (Nick Nolte) is under constant fire from the press and the public for doing very little about it. But then he does; Parker orders Seargant John O'Mara (Josh Brolin), a hard-hitting, honest, veteran cop to bring down Cohen by any means necessary - off the books, of course. O'Mara puts together the Gangster Squad, a rogue group of cops who use often violent and illegal means to put an end to Cohen's rule. Cue seemingly unrelated action sequences.

The bill is topped off by Jerry Wooters (Ryan Gosling), a smooth talking war veteran, Grace Faraday (Emma Stone), the femme fatale who Wooters develops a relationship with, as well as Anthony Mackie and the rest of the gangster squad. Despite lackluster character development, the actors give largely strong performances with the material that they've been given.

Despite this, the characters are a largely shiftless bunch; a group of people who exist in a certain time who do things that doesn't really click with any sort of reason for doing so. However, the actors performances are all of a reasonable quality. Gosling and Stone, having already worked together on Crazy, Stupid Love are a formidable screen couple that have great chemistry, but with them in mind there is an unfortunate sense of stardom factor, in that we are seeing them as actors rather than the characters that they are portraying. And, albeit some slick dialogue, the script is painfully weak at times. Most aspects of the film serve dramatic tropes rather than it being the other way around. With it's near two-hour running time, it feels like a lot more could have been done with the time that the film was given.

It's many vices aside, Gangster Squad does have a few positive aspects going for it. Despite Ruben Fleischer having only directed one major project before (2009s Zombieland) his directorial skills are reasonably impressive and suit the action in a strange way; he executes the whole thing with a kind of reckless but controlled abandon. His style also contributes positively to the films more comedic tone at times, as this seems to be Fleischer's natural way of going about things.

Having read Paul Leiberman's excellent Gangster Squad: The True Story of the Battle for Los Angeles on which the film was very, very, very loosely based, I can safely say that this is not a film to be taken seriously in the slightest. It's a fun, stupid (in a good way) action-romp that looks great and is a hell of a lot of fun to watch.

And why should that be a bad thing?

3/5