Warning: Brace yourself for a sickening display of cinematic affection.

As far as movies based on lunar missions go Moon is up there with the best of them. With only one man and a computer voiced by Kevin Spacey, this is a film that blows the dust away from the sci-fi genre.

This is movie that not only pays homage to the likes of Blade Runner and 2001: A Space Odyssey but also turns expectations and marks itself as a visionary exploration on what it means to be human.

It is helped in no small way by Sam Rockwell, here playing the aptly named Sam. The film relies completely on his performance and if you are familiar with Rockwell then it comes at no surprise that his enigmatic screen presence makes Moon not only absorbing but also completely believable. Dealing with agoraphobia, mortality and paranoia, Rockwell never falters in his portrayal, and further cements himself as one of the best ‘oh, I recognise him from something’ actors out there.

What helps the film is its sheer restraint to be anything bordering on mainstream. One time Zowie Bowie (son of David) Duncan Jones directs the film with care and passion. Not relying on computer generated effects – something that has become a prerequisite of modern sci-fi – and instead using practical methods of creating an environment that not only looks startling (and not just in crisp high definition) but also adds a layer of authenticity often lacking in today’s cinema.

This method also helps you feel connected to the environment and helping to add to the unsettling nature of the picture. When Sam falls deeper into the mystery surrounding an accident, we are never sure what is real and what isn’t. Can we truly believe a narrator who seems to be both mentally and physically deteriorating before our eyes? The film constantly makes you question what is going on, leaving the audience constantly in the dark – a brave decision in an impatient age.

As the pieces of the puzzle fall into place then it becomes clear that each twist and turn has been clever crafted and the story forms together to create something truly memorable. It may be compared to the likes of Blade Runner but as far as intricate storytelling then it is on a par with recent directional debuts such as Christopher Nolan’s Memento and Richard Kelly’s Donnie Darko.

Much like the aforementioned it takes the genre to new levels, often by making the ideas big and the storytelling simple – Something that Hollywood seems to have forgotten to do.

The Blu-ray release delves deeper into the process, featuring commentaries with Duncan Jones, Q&A sessions and behind the scenes footage. The only thing it lacks is major input from Rockwell. Still, you can’t ask much more than a high definition package that makes a visionary film truly visually spectacular.

Hecklerspray rating: 4/5

Now pardon us for our break in usual Hecklerspray cynicism so now enjoy a return to our normal programming…

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The concept of two sexy young women scrubbing the brain fragments off of a bathroom floor might sound to you like some niche Japanese Manga porn. Unfortunately it’s only another dysfunctional family indie drama.

Sunshine Cleaning has the indie genre down pat; colourful titles, top actors, interesting backdrop and troubled characters. In fact, it is walking the line so straight that it borders on the mundane. It works hard to be the next indie breakthrough like its predecessor Little Miss Sunshine, but the story doesn’t have as much to do.

Amy Adams is as likeable as ever and here she is playing Rose Lorkowski, a downtrodden single mum who is struggling to make ends meet as a cleaner. A character with zero self-esteem or vocational outlook, she is convinced that the world of crime scene cleaning is her way to fortune.

Obviously this is a messy job and she soon finds herself knee deep in all sorts of excrement. She is helped along the way by her sister Norah played by Emily Blunt. Here, the wayward sister, she lives at home with their father Joe (Alan Arkin) whose own business ventures are far from successful.

What we get is fairly ‘amusing’ situations, but because they all pretty much take place in the same setting, it never really takes off and – as you would expect – there is minimal comedy to be had from the stains left from the dead. All the cast do very well in their roles, particularly Arkin, but he is pretty much playing the same character he played in Little Miss Sunshine.

What it really seems to be doing is trying too hard; each character has an issue (all pretty much stemming from the same place) but they all have their own little moments of clarity. Sometimes it works and sometimes it comes across as excessively quirky (notably Norah under the train rails) but it always fails to click.

Neither the characters nor the surroundings come across as particularly easy to relate to. Adams always has the ability to convince, but it’s hard to care about the most popular girl in school who grew up to be a loser.

The film is just adequate, never fully taking off but not too dull either. It’s a small victory that anyone managed to make a film about cleaning up dead people that’s even remotely amusing. Be warned, though, as this is not the next big indie hit but instead is a film coasting on the merits of predecessors.

The DVD release packs in minimal extras but a so-so commentary from the writer and producer and a strange behind the scenes documentary about real-life crime scene cleaners. The documentary at least proves that the film is 100% more entertaining to people in the business, if that can be taken as a recommendation.

Hecklerspray Rating: 3/5

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Night at the Museum 2 isn’t a film content with itself. When it isn’t vying for the title of most irrelevant sequel, it decides to take a trip to Ben Stiller’s house for a mass celebrity circle jerk.

This isn’t just an excuse to make a mundane sequel, but for a bunch of overpaid comedians to make few laughs out of big ideas.

Growing up, adventure films would appeal to the simplistic nature of our naive brains and inspire us to climb trees and swashbuckle imaginary friends until our parents took us into psychotherapy.

What gave these films their longevity? Their lasting appeal for adults, their refusal to patronise and their universal humour. Now, what we are left with is Ben Stiller slapping two monkeys round the face – times have changed.

Night at the Museum didn’t set the world on fire. A night guard at a museum pitted against the exhibits as they came alive at night – it was a premise that had potential to be an exciting adventure tale, but the end result was underwhelming.

What we get in the sequel is more of the same. We get a brief glimpse at the larger scale objects that are sure to amaze but nothing really takes off. The only thing that is substituted from the original is the location and – instead of the father and son relationship anguish – it has Larry doubting his newly found fortune. Amelia Earhart (the adorable Amy Adams) lends support and acts as a strange love interest (considering she turns to wax come sunlight – something they get around with a cop-out, come closing credits).

One of the most surprising elements of the film is how it can be so packed with great comedy actors, some old (Christopher Guest) and some new (Bill Hader), but all of whom make damp squibs of their respective roles. Ben Stiller just seems to mope about in a role that actually gives him less to do than the original.

As an aid to the little ADHD, dribbling spawn that the film is aimed that, there are enough colourful characters and monkey-slapping action to keep them transfixed for quite a while. Otherwise there is little here for anybody to really connect with. Stiller is going through a mid-life crisis of sorts – something your average eight-year-old finds as interesting as their veg – and appears dull to adults. The historical figures are about as accurate as a pack of Top Trumps cards, with only Al Capone proving entertainment value.

When it comes to the finale battle, neither Steve Coogan entering stage left mounting a squirrel or eagle-headed Spartans make a spectacular finale. This throw-it-at-the-wall approach to studio comedy is ineffective and a reflection of a business that thinks sticking a bunch of ‘it’ name comedians in a bluescreen room with a blank page in front of them equals comedy gold. This is instead a display of Ben Stiller polishing his ego and giving a generous cheque to all his buddies.

Hecklerspray Rating: 2/5

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We’re looking at two releases here at Hecklerspray this week; the new Jack Black/Michael Cera Neanderthal comedy Year One and a Blu-ray release of the much maligned lizard dump Godzilla.

Year One – DVD:

Harold Ramis – comedy genius responsible for Groundhog Day and the best film of all time™ Ghostbusters – writes and directs Year One. Current comedy behemoths Jack Black and Michael Cera are cavemen Zed and Oh, both walking through various biblical settings trying to provide about as much subtle rib-tickling as someone stabbing you with a blunt knife. Ramis – once king of underplayed one-liners – simply lets Black and Cera loose with a series of uninspired improv set pieces.

It wouldn’t be so bad if it wasn’t for the sheer pointlessness of the whole picture. Most of the scenarios involve sex in some way – masturbation, lesbian, gay, doggy, etc – which makes much of the religious backdrop completely irrelevant. Black and Cera play on their usual shtick, by now wearing thin. Like much of the cast they are wasted, with only Hank Azaria’s cameo actually raising a smirk.

Religion and its foundations are deeply linked with satire – Monty Python proved that – but this is Ramis trying to appeal to a new Animal House crowd, while assuming that the youth of today are so bored of intelligent comedy that he must resort to the type of toilet humour of his successors like Rogan and Apatow. This isn’t his style and what we are left with is a film that should sit among other uninspired ‘spoofs’ – perhaps Religious Movie is a more fitting title.

The DVD disc fillers are as equally ineffective as the film; unfunny deleted scenes, alternative endings and gag reels really make this a struggle to like. Also quite bafflingly, for any World of Warcraft fans a tribute to the popular online video Leeroy Jenkins is provided. The commentary is unapologetic, Ramis, Black and Cera chuckle about on set shenanigans but, predictably, not much at the film.

hecklerspray Rating: 2/5

Godzilla – Blu-Ray:

Paint us cynical, but here at hecklerspray we have become used the unfailing ineptitude of Hollywood over the years. Take this summer for example: both Terminator and Transformers churned out underwhelming plot-muddling guff in the way of sequels when clearly there is enough previous quality material to create entertaining bolt-bashing blockbusters.

Flip your minds back to 1998. The world was a more innocent place back then. Sure, we’d been burned before by the likes of rubber-nipple Batman and Robin, but we just had the box-office bombardment that was Titanic – the summer season was back!

So the expectations were high and – as we are used to now – they were dumped on in gigantic style by the beast that was Godzilla. No fault of the monster, but when Hollywood makes a giant dino flick, deprived of any resonance and casting Matthew Broderick in the lead, it’s setting itself up for a massive failure.

So the film contains enough frustrating collateral damage to make Michael Bay go hard, and enough plot to fit into a crisp packet – but that is the least of its worries. The action in uninspired, the CG flips between ropey and impressive and then to animatronics that look like a Blue Peter job. Matthew Broderick also turns in a solidly turgid performance as some worm guy who apparently is the only one who knows anything about giant radioactive lizards. Broderick, as usual, can’t work out the difference between whiny and charismatic (name a good film he was a lead in – not including Ferris Bueller and Election).

The Blu-ray proves that no matter of sheen can polish a turd and the extras are as pitiful as the film. SFX commentary, a highlight reel of monster action from rubber-suited Japanese Godzilla films and a preview of the upcoming 2012 – all of which prove to be as lifeless as this multi-million pound production.

Rating: 1.5/5

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Fanboy idol Hugh Jackman knows when he puts on the mutton chops that he is onto a winner.

So much so that, now he’s back again as the Gillette razor clawed Wolverine, he’s barely made any effort to make this entry stick out from the rest of the franchise.

Let’s get one thing straight: This is better than X3: The Last Stand. Watching a lobster snip at your genitalia is a less gruelling experience. Not to say that Wolverine is a good film – not when it throws franchise continuity around with such reckless abandon. If you like Bryan Singer’s two-stroke masterclass in comic book movie-making, then you may feel slightly bemused after this film is finished chewing up the established Wolverine facts then spitting them out, forming a somewhat hairy mess.

This is, literally, the full origin story (don’t mention Japan); we see him as a bone-clawed child (Original trilogy continuity error #1: He was given claws according to X1 and 2), then whipped through every war before joining a crime fighting group in Africa. These early scenes are the most enjoyable, a miniature team of X-Men raiding a base and using all their powers is enthralling and exactly the type of dynamic a film like this needs. The bunch of mutants features a decent who’s who as well: Dominic Monaghan is great but all too brief in his Electro-like appearance. Ryan Reynolds notches another superhero movie on his bedpost and makes a good wise-cracking Deadpool and then there’s Will.i.am, some sarky Asian dude and a bloke who has popped up in Lost.

The team is lead by a young Striker (Danny Houston) – of whom you know from X2 as Weapon X leader – here representing none of the subtle repression of a man scorned by mutant atrocity on his family. Now he is a panto villain. One that looks like a young Gordon Brown, too. Joining him on the evil side of the fence is Sabretooth, once a little furry package in the first X-Men, now shaven down and possessing the ability to string sentences together. Here as Wolverine’s brother, he runs around killing people and little else. Shame, as Liev Schreiber is a decent character actor and playing a thug-for-hire role really doesn’t provide anything for him to grab hold of.

This film is called Wolverine, though, and any team angle is soon dropped to follow the hardest man in a vest since John McClane. Reliable as Jackman is, this is just a retread, trying so hard to explain everything that it feels redundant, like a greatest hits collection – getting his leather jacket, bike, claws, memory erased, bouffant etc.

When it isn’t concerned with doing this, it’s packing in the mutant cameos. As said before, the X-mercenaries make fleeting appearances and joining them is baby Cyclops, Prof. X, Blob and fan favourite Gambit.

Taking a step aside for a moment to discuss Gambit; on any level of conception it’s hard to understand the casting of the role. Not being a 33-year-old virgin, our X-Men knowledge is minimal, but from what we remember of the guy, he was a slick rogue with an edge. Not a blank-faced OC extra with as much charisma as a pickled onion.

The film is an average romp, having none of the intensity nor the atmosphere of Singer’s films but, thankfully, not being the hyperactive, overcooked turkey of X3. Jackman wears the role like a comfortable slipper but the script and idea are unfocused and what could have been a dark, distinctive film ends up repeating much of what has come before and becoming cameo reliant.

On Blu-Ray the film is packed with some great extras; a Stan Lee conversation, deleted scenes, commentaries and behind the scenes features. Along with the excellent picture and sound on Blu-Ray, it also comes with a copy on DVD and a digital copy for your ipod – a nice little package.

Wolverine is a neutered film, trying to appeal to kiddies can never make this mutant go full berserker. Unfortunately, this means that much like the rest of the film, it never gets its claws deep enough into the really good stuff.

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Clive Owen plays the role of carefree Australian sports writer, Joe Warr in this emotionally heavy drama about parenthood and rediscovering youth.

When the tragic death of his wife leaves him in the shoes of a single parent with two rebellious kids, Joe goes about trying to raise his boys the sensible way, and failing miserably. There’s only one thing a man can do in Joe’s situation. Say Yes.

Director Scott Hicks and Miramax bring you a touching story about growing up, no matter how old you are. Family chaos meets living in dad’s house for a fuzzy film suited to  those who are probably sick of children and/or life…

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Not really a refreshing vacation, Couples Retreat. Instead, expect the kind of thrills you’d get on a wet summer’s day in Butlins.

Starting off well, Couples Retreat sees Vince Vaughn dream up an idea about a holiday resort for couples – who get to indulge in the fine food, the bright blue water and the pristine sands, but only after they have finished partaking in the non-negotiable therapy courses. Hilarity should ensue, and at first it looks set to do just that.

Vaughn is joined by his old friend and sometime Iron Man director Jon Favreau in both acting and scripting duties. Surprisingly, the Swingers duo manage to change roles from their debut outing. Here Favreau manages to be the loose womaniser with questionable morals, while Vince looks on with a few sharp, well-placed one-liners. You’d think the film was an exercise in bringing this couple back together. It’s not, though – a supporting cast features more familiar faces.

The purpose of filling the film with these four sets of couples is clearly to make it relate on some level with different members of the audience – a trick that is sure to work. Jason Bateman is always a welcome addition to any cast, and here he plays the uptight but seemingly happily husband of Kristen Bell’s Cynthia. Of all the couples, they are the most difficult to accept as a real pairing. Sticking glasses on a hot woman does not make her a nerd. Cinematic history has taught this lesson on several occasions, but this couple is even harder to swallow considering how old the two are – presumably he proposed to her when she was an embryo.

As the couples embark on the resort, they are first shown around and taken aback by its beauty, as is the audience. We Brits may notice Shaun of the Dead and Spaced alumni Peter Serafinowicz playing the resorts manager, Sctanley, who insists his name is spelt with a ‘C’. An odd role and not one as nearly as funny as the film thinks it is. As the couples indulge in the therapy, we get to meet the therapists (a scene stealing Michael John Higgins is a stand-out) and also the resort’s owner Marcel, played by Jean Reno.

The film packs in plenty of characters and, as they first take part in the therapy sessions, it amuses – especially the awkward yoga scene with an overly enthusiastic instructor. The characters soon start realising truths about themselves and, after the young Trudy runs away to the neighbouring island, they find themselves following her.

Trudy’s exile occurs in the last third of the film, the toughest part of any film to master. Before this, it moves along at a nice enough pace with a few chuckles here and there to make this a likeable, if not unspectacular comedy. But never before have we witnessed such a sudden drop in quality.

Alarm bells start ringing after the utterly illogical motives of the leads as they split off. Some turn character for no other reason than to create conflict and to propel the plot in a certain direction. One scene involves Dave (Vaughn) having a face-off on Guitar Hero with Sctanley – a scene that is woeful between two adults to begin with, but soon becomes the most spectacularly badly edited sequence in a major movie of the 21st century.

Then as they reach the ‘party island’ they resolve all their issues in the midst of all the drinking and dancing. It becomes a repulsive display of a cinematic closure, one made more offensive by the sudden appearance of Shane’s (Faizon Love) ex-wife. The film then pretends that all this was part of the therapy and that the infinitely wise Marcel knew what was coming and what everyone would do, and implausibly gives them all wooden animals to represent their spirit.

Now the film is all wrapped up in a nice package and as the credits roll we get treated to snaps of the stars jet-skiing, swimming with dolphins and enjoying the sun, sea and sand. It soon becomes apparent that some idiot studio executive has just paid a bunch of actors to go on an extended holiday.

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‘Pain has a new name’ says the tagline, although, perhaps the film shouldn’t be so self-deprecating on the cover art. Damage, after all, does what you expect.

Steve Austin stars as John Brickner – a man released from prison and on a trail for redemption. Unfortunately, redemption for his past act of violence comes at a price – kicking the crap out of everyone. It’s not the most ingenious set-up, and appears to be a surprisingly lowbrow effort from the writer of  The Cooler, but this film is all about walls with teeth, so who cares?

Well Steve does actually, a man who knows how to knock a man down til his face resembles a strawberry McFlurry. Austin wants to bring the man on a mission movie back, being the everyman (that is the 6ft 5inches everyman who can smelt gold with his hands) who tries to battle against adversity.

It’s a noble idea, but one that doesn’t completely connect. Austin doesn’t quite hold the chops yet to handle the drama as well as he does the action. He is aptly supported by The Shield alumni Walton Goggins and Battlestar Galactica’s favourite Doc, Donnelly Rhodes.

As the film continues, Austin manages to inject some humour into the role, and what could have been just another excuse for a brutal exploitation flick actually tries to gun for a bit more heart and feeling. The character gradually connects and lesser actors could have made it feel a lot cornier than it actually is.

It isn’t enough, though – the action strays away from gratuitous face-smashing (although there’s still plenty of it). Meanwhile, the script lacks any real spark and just moves along to its inevitable happy end.

A good effort which has the spirit but doesn’t follow through. The action feels occasionally repetitive and it is a story told many times before, only better. The DVD also lacks wealth, offering a chirpy behind the scenes featuring a few members of backslappers anonymous and nothing else.

This is a film trying too hard and, ultimately, not hitting hard enough. It should prove an entertaining watch for Stone Cold fans and action nuts, but don’t expect it to knock your socks off.

Watch the trailer for Damage here and read our interview with Steve Austin this week on Hecklerspray.

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It’s hard not to feel jealous of Ricky Gervais, since he seems to have Hollywood in the palm of his hand. Not content with appearing in any old cinematic guff swimming out our shores, one cheeky snaggletooth smile and he is whisked away to star in… well, any old guff swimming out of the US.

Alas, the man from sunny Reading has managed to attract a whole host of star-wattage toward his latest project – The Invention of Lying. Taking on co-writing and co-directing duties, not to mention starring in the film, you may think that this film is just a rehash of 90’s Jim Carrey vehicle Liar Liar.

That wouldn’t be a far off assumption – jumble around the ingredients and you’re left with the only man who can lie in an alternative universe where only the truth can be spoken. Replace Carrey’s gurning antics with a repressed, reserved English lead and, of course, hilarity ensures.

Except not quite. Gervais does what is expected, although it’s hard to pin down exactly what that is without using the over-used, nonexistent adjective ‘Brentish’, but this role actually surprises by using a bit more range, even touching on emotional depth.

Still, as Mark, Gervais has to rely on the supporting cast to stop this feeling like an American holiday for one of the UK’s top comedians. Jonah Hill and Tina Fey make best out of all too short roles which could have, and would have, definitely welcomed expansion. Most of the interaction and humour comes from Rob Lowe and the gorgeous looking Jennifer Garner (We once said that Gone Baby Gone was the best thing Ben Affleck has ever done – we were mistaken).

The two play their parts well enough, although apparently in this alt-verse you are also partially lobotomised. All the characters seem to have no range or depth, walking around with child-like naivety and often repeating the same lines to hammer home jokes (at least we think these instances were jokes). It seems odd that Mark is the only person thinking on any logical level. Does the ability to lie also make one more intelligent? It appears so.

It’s not a film that needs to be thought about too much. After all it is a comedy. But it is a shame given how rich The Office or Extras was. The film just meanders around obvious jokes and a reliance on star cameos. The only stand-out jokes being more of the understated humour and not necessarily the expected over-the-top jokes.

This isn’t Gervais on top form. It doesn’t quite reach the potential and, for a film that relies on one joke, it doesn’t explore it as much as it should. Towards the end, when religion becomes the target, it seems wishy washy, not as ballsy as it proclaims and just gives up on it after an uninspired Jesus costume.

This isn’t a remarkable effort. Although it demonstrates some of Gervais’ best acting work, The Invention of Lying lacks in the scipt and direction. Perhaps Ricky wasn’t the talented one after all, maybe it is time we all hail the comedy master that is Stephen Merchant! It is not a bad film, but just enjoyable fluff – it’s not that we’re angry with you Ricky, we are just disappointed.

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For anyone who hasn’t seen the original 1980 version of Fame, it’s not exactly what you’d expect. Because you were expecting a grinning mob of leotard whores prancing around, squealing “feel the music!” to one another, whilst occasionally breaking rank to march silently towards a mirror, caressing their bodies, growling like tigers, weren’t you? Weren’t you? Go on, admit it. You were. And, for the most part, you’d be right.

But, the original film was so much more than that. It was bleak. It was brilliant. And the new one, apparently, is a big sack of turds. So says the Boston Herald and LA Times anyway, and they’ve SEEN it.

In the first outing, a cross section of New York “talent” is thrown together in a strict school for special people, who like singing, dancing and acting. The kids sometimes take time to play a cello in the canteen, or dash into the streets because a man in a taxi left his stereo on, and it’s playing loud music.

But, apart from that, it’s no walk in the park for these students – some of whom have been punched in the face by the ugly fist, yet still see their career in the limelight. By which we may or may not be referring to Bruno and Ralph. One student almost gets raped by a horny photographer, one is battling with gayness, one considers suicide, there’s a ballerina abortion, there are drugs flying around. Leroy destroys things. It’s heavy going.

Of the latest version, which looks a bit like High School Musical, but with slightly more pubes, James Verniere of the Boston Herald says:

“… for the most part, the conflicts are canned, the dance scenes lifted from “Flashdance” and “All That Jazz,” the dialogue banal and the chemistry lacking. Believe in yourself, hold on to your dreams, we are told. I get better advice in fortune cookies.”

He even hilariously awards the movie about school a C+.

It’s gets an equally frosty reception from the LA Times:

“Fame, it turns out, is not going to live forever… gone is almost every shred of the gutsy, gritty script that Christopher Gore wrote.”

This time around, there’s a talented songstress who needs to show her dad that she can sing, a rapper of some sort, and a sexy dancer called Kherington Payne, who has previously starred in a TV show about dancing. Plus Frasier teaches everyone music.

Yep, sounds pretty rubbish.

Fame, 1980

Fame, 2009

Like this? Read more of Josh’s words at Interestment

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Here at Hecklerspray, we love Vin Diesel, we really do. Maybe it’s because he looks like the love child of a polar bear and Chuch Norris, it could be because his voice can cut through a can of baked beans or perhaps it’s because he has to kiss Michelle Rodriguez so we don’t have to.

One thing it definately isn’t, though, is his choice of films!

 Returning to the Fast and Furious franchise, all the cast seem keen and eager to get back to where they began (i.e. obscurity) and get in on the action(i.e. pay cheque).

Going into the fourth installment (which, sadly, didn’t opt for the title 4 Fast 4 Furious), this is actually a prequel to the previous installment, Tokyo Drift (not that it matters). The main draw here is all the original actors return: Diesel, Paul Walker, Michelle Rodriguez and Jordana Brewster.

Fast and Furious movies come with a few prequisites; firstly we expect fast cars, cinemas full of dribbling ASBOs and impressive stunt work. In fact, we sat down with a few beers and pals to enjoy this latest installment, the way it should be watched.

The film starts off with a bang (in the form of a big CG truck), but before that rolls towards us, we are propelled straight into a moving canyon-path heist. Dom (Diesel) and Letty (Rodriguez) show some skills and throw the audience into an impressive action set-piece, full of vehicle to vehicle jumping, crashes and explosions – not a bad way to get things going!

Sadly, the fun soon slips its foot off of the accelerator. While FBI Agent O’Conner (Walker) even makes a decent entrance in the form of a nifty foot-chase, the fun is short-lived. Dom and O’Connor soon team up again on the trail of a murder, the two then getting back in the fast cars to beat the evil drug dealers (A couple of villains so lacking in any substance, subtitles may as well appear saying ‘booo!’)

The film has about four major action set-pieces, two of which (including the climax) take place in the same uninspired CGI cave – Clarkson would feel shortchanged by the level of cheap-looking, fabricated stunt-sequences contained in this film! It is dissapointing that a film reliant on car-based action, chooses to save money by going down the bluescreen route!

The film becomes a pedestrian trip of lacklustre action, effects and storytelling. The extras on the DVD disc do little to impress either, although, Vin’s Driving School is a highlight, even the gag-reel bores. It appears, for a franchise still with some power under the hood, it seems to be taking direction from a dodgy sat-nav!

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An idyllic wood cabin, surrounded by snow in the Norwegian mountains – sounds like the perfect postcard.

Add to that a group of ravaging, recently resurrected Nazi zombies, tearing students’ limbs off, painting the vast landscape a gloriously unsettling red and you’ve got Dead Snow.

This ambitious Norwegian film from newcomer Tommy Wirkola takes a group of medical students and gives them their Easter vacation from hell. Secluded, cold and surrounded by bloodthirsty Nazi zombies, it’s fight or bite! Not shying away from anything, it instead throws everything at the screen (jokes, references, horror, heads etc) and makes for one of the most surprisingly enjoyable horror movies for quite some time.

Director Wirkola is a child of the 70s and 80s, set on making a horror film cut from the same cloth as Evil Dead and Braindead and even openly referencing these classics within Dead Snow. What Wirkola (and writer/actor Stig Frode Henriksen) does that makes this stand out is the inclusion of Nazi Zombies.

Not an original concept, computer games recently have made use of the double bastard glory of the premise and even schlock cinema of the 70s and 80s featured them. This film manages to thrust them into a film that actually revels in the pure lunacy that should surround such a great villain – and celebrate that lunacy they do. The amount of inventive violence, gore and laughs generated from this breed of fast-moving moaners is enough to have any horror fan feel welcome.

When the characters finally have the climatic showdown with the undead patrol, it becomes grinning, unadulterated, gory glory and couldn’t be more enjoyable.

While the film does prove plenty of humour and action it is at the detriment of character development. Obviously we need a fair amount of disposable bodies but the film has a few too many, making for some very one-dimensional characterisation. While Raimi knew to put Ash centre stage in Evil Dead from the oft, it’s never clear who we should be following in this until the third act when Martin (Vegar Hoer) steps up.

While the insanity of hacking the zombies to pieces is pure joy, the film at times drops the tone and takes time to reflect on some character demises. It makes for uncomfortable viewing, as if someone sat you down after a particular demonic rampage on Grand Theft Auto and explained the real life implications of your actions.

These are minor niggles; Wirkola has set out to create a horror movie which is fun, something being slayed from the genre for a while. He succeeds for the most part, sometimes even injecting the movie with flair and originality making him a director to watch. Dead Snow is a nod to some of the most inventive horror movies and a film that can proudly say that for all its faults is an entertaining and indulgent film school in how horror movies should be made.

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Kevin James’ varied CV has thus far featured a wealth of memorable creations.

Bumbling fat-guy in King of Queens, bumbling fat-guy in Hitch and bumbling fat-guy in I Now Pronounce You Chuck and Larry – there hasn’t been such a startling auteur with this much range since John Candy.

And like Candy (which James clearly does), Kevin manages to make what is an otherwise down on his luck cardboard cutout into a likeable chubby action hero – Paul Blart. This is silly fun, the kind that makes children laugh until they’re rolling around dribbling, while leaving adults to exclaim ‘meh’.

Forgettable escapism is on the cards, something that doesn’t feel bogged down by issues – apparently it became trendy in the mid-noughties to try and give audience diabetes through sugary, issue and moral-laced comedies.

Fortunately, the only person suffering from such a  disease is the title character himself. Moustached, well-fed and full of beans, Blart is the type of character that isn’t trying to do anything new except being likeable and amusing.

Credit to James, who has filled a hole missing from cinema with ease. He brings the chubby, funny goon back to the screen, and does so without the sentimental streak that burdens the genre.

When the doughnuts are down and Blart becomes a 20-stone Bruce Willis, he works his way through a mall of criminals, taking them down one by one. The film kicks up a gear when the action starts – fortunately for Blart, the bad guys manage to make it easy to root for the good guy. Rather than menacing super-criminals, they’re simply a bunch of skater boys jumping around, riding BMX’s and looking more like the type of dribbling sociopaths you’d normally find normally loitering outside Tesco. They seem frightened to actually fire any guns, preferring to just shout and run away from a fight with a guy who couldn’t swing his arms without getting heart failure.

Still, there had to be a concession made for believability, and further adding to this is the deer-in-headlights love interest Amy. It isn’t Douglas/Zeta-Jones bad and there is enough easy charm that they get away with it.

Really, you could write this review without seeing the actual film; an enjoyable comedy filled with tubby pratfalls and larger than life characters. It isn’t exactly David Lynch but is actually just a slice of good ol’ fun!

The extras are fairly robust (I will stop with the fat puns eventually), commentary with the director and James, deleted scenes, behind the scenes and plenty of back-slapping action to boot. A nice package, unfortunately featuring the most annoying DVD menu of all time but overall making a breezy lightweight DVD.

3/5

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Adrian Brody has managed to dazzle many a woman with his modestly-sized schnoz, thereby blind-siding them so he can then attack their lips. It worked on Halle Berry and Naomi Watts – and now he is at it again with Beyonce Knowles!

The independent woman is at the acting game again, this time alongside Brody who plays Leonard Chess, founder of Chess Records. The film tells the story of the rise of Chess Records and its owner along with its first artist Muddy Waters (Jeffrey Wright). Other notable artists join the two in the studios, including; Chuck Berry (Mos Def), The Rolling Stones and Etta James (Beyonce).

Such an ensemble of talent only makes what’s on offer here feel all the more bloated. Each character comes with such a history and rich, complex background – made more interesting by the era of racial hate and prejudice – that it all becomes unfocused.

So it falls on the two leads – Leonard and Muddy – to drive the proceedings and although the two do an admirable job, their stories feel rushed amidst the flurry of a bolstering cast. Muddy is the more interesting of the two – over the decades his relationship with his wife, his best friend Little Walter (Columbus Short) and Leonard give the story the much needed dramatic edge.

Although all the supporting characters give fleeting, outstanding performances, Beyonce gives the most notable turn. Getting beneath Etta James’ skin would be a tough task for a new actress but she proves that her equally impressive performance in Dreamgirls was no fluke.

Unfortunately the film that all these intriguing, charismatic musicians exist within is a disappointment. While Wright and Brody do their best to steer the story forward, ultimately they’re not as interesting as everyone else. The rise of the blues, rock n’ roll and human rights makes for compelling viewing and the runtime only skims the surface. There is a bigger, better film within this but as it is it remains a decent biopic with a great soundtrack to boot!

Extras:

A fair attempt at a commentary from the writer/director and a Beyonce circle-jerk of a behind-the-scenes documentary as well as another on the design of the film.

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Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon marked a new era in cinema, paving the way for a string of foreign, martial-arts epics.

With Crouching Tiger, Ang Lee ushered in a style in which Western audiences were not familiar and paved the way for other directors such as Zhang Yimou, whose Hero and House of Flying Daggers were among a stream of films that filled their screen time with as much lush cinematography as they did dazzling martial-arts.

The plot is incomprehensible most of the time but feature enough familiarity to not alienate audiences. Crouching Tiger revolves around Michelle Yeoh’s Yu Schu-lien escorting the precious sword (The Sword of Destiny) to a friend of Chow Yun-fat’s Li Mu-bai. Along the way the sword is stolen and the two go on a quest to find it and chase after a masked woman, played by Zhang Ziyi.

The themes running throughout the film are hardly subtle, but subtlety has never been a huge concern to the genre. Characters leaping twenty feet in the air, running through tree-tops and other assorted impossible stunts are to be expected when watching this film.

What Crouching Tiger does so well is in the approach to telling the story. It  re-introduces the notion of ancient myths and presents them as a tale being told about ancestors long ago and, like any great tale, it comes with some level of fantasy and wonder.

Lee manages to turn this film – full of wondrous locations, acting and some of the best martial-arts choreography of the decade – from what could have been just known as another martial-arts film into an actual work of art and that is an amazing achievement.

On Blu-ray the film looks fantastic; all of the textures and environments look as eye-catching in HD as you would expect and the sound is fantastic in surround sound, with also the option of a dubbed English version or the original audio with subtitles.

If you don’t already own this then Blu-ray is the perfect excuse to pick up a copy. Rich with history, culture and emotion you’ll be hard pressed to find something to dislike about this seminal epic.

Extras:

The extras are pretty standard, with a decent commentary and a few behind-the-scenes features including one entitled ‘Unleashing The Dragon’ which isn’t half as exciting as it sounds…

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