Clockwork-Avacado

What I actually thought of this low-brow, mock-exploitation film is largely irrelevaent, given the general lack of any serious attempt to present anything more than 90 minutes of bizarre, escapist wham-bang action. Like Rodriguez subsequent, and better known "Machete" franchise, this features a bunch of Mexican, and not so Mexican guys posing around, looking cool, and blowing things up/shooting things. That's basically it. In fact, its' aesthetic is so similair to the MAchete films, that it makes you wonder whether Rodriguez is stuck in something of a rut. Anyway, though, if you have to watch this movie, then I'd recommend you watch it for Johnny Depp being a bad ass as usual, with his third-arm gimmick, and his distinctly annoying, but you like him anyway style. In fact, by the end of the film, he's the only thing worth watching, if you'll pardon the pun. Not that Antonio Banderas is a bad lead, but moping about doesn't exactly suit such a film, and that's basically all that he does. Shoots a load of people, then has a mope. Does this a couple of times, then that's the film over. But, like I said. Not the real point here.

THE REAL POINT - is to warn anybody who looks at the cover of this movie and thinks, "Oh, A kind of rubbish looking film with Salma Hayek in it," then buys it for that very reason. Despite being large on the cover, and second in the cast list, I feel it is my duty to warn the world that SALMA HAYEK IS BARELY EVEN IN THIS FILM. This is a classic case of deliberate misrepresentation, on the part of the film-makers who obviously felt that selling this movie as nothing but a macho-posturing movie would hurt their sales. And they'd be right. Oh, those cunning devils, who knew that she's the best actress in this movie by some considerable margin, that she's basically the only reason why I even watched this film. To be featured so large in the promotional material, and to have about four minutes of screen time, all in hugely irrelevant flashback sequences, is definitely a crime, not to mention the fact that it's a decidedly undignified role for her even when she is on screen. So, if, like me, you love Salma Hayek, as one of the sexiest screen presences in film, and you think this will constitute "A Salma Hayek Film", then you're totally wrong, oh my brothers (and sisters). 'Tis a travesty, indeed, and a massive waste of talent. Now, excuse me. I'm off to rewatch "Savages" again. I may be gone for some time. And, if you have been fortunate enough to have read this public serveice message, then I thank you, and feel that I can go about my business, in the hope that at least one person will be saved from the same arch disappointment that I felt.

Thank you, and Good night.

Say "Good Night", Salma...

She's Waving...

"Savages" is one of those films produced, during the "Breaking Bad" era, which basically exists to show, in a relatively high-brow, intellectual fashion, that being a drug dealer is seriously cool. Sadly, however, it isn't, and the last person you'd expect to jump on this particularly sub-fascist train, would be the director of perhaps the best ever liberally minded political conspiracy thriller of all time, Oliver Stone. Stone shows that he's one who will willingly adapt himself to suit trends, but unfortunately, there is little passion in this especially empty film. The sunny, travelogue photography never quite manages to get any dramatic traction with the subject matter, and the stars are much the same.

Aaron Johnson, Taylor Kitsch and Blake Lively play a particularly unlikely gang of hippyish drug dealers, who seem convinced that they're out to do the world a favour by producing the best marijuana in the industry. The trio are a classic example of the type of empty, soulless good-looking types cast to divert people from the actual substance of your film. All three deliver beautifully dead performances, never managing to sound anything other than bored or unconvincing, and, as the lead characters, they certainly do flatten the drama out impeccably, let alone the immoral politics of their characters' particular beliefs, which leave a lot to be desired. Basically, it's immorality done up in a nice, neat modern bow, which seems like absolutely nothing on the surface, but in actual fact, is deeply subversive to the sort of people who rarely go beneath the surface.

The plot is a mish-mash of romanticised violence, and brutalist-macho clichés which never really transcend a totally bored air from the director, from the script, and from the majority of the performers. As well as the young, hot and tedious trio, there's an equal number of older, but by no means wiser actors who attempt to provide the film with some gravitas. It's a tribute to how bad the majority of the cast are, when Benicio Del Toro is one of the better people on screen, but, on its' own, his performance is utterly lacking in emotional maturity, all full of fake twitchiness and assumed mannerisms, and clichéd sadistic dialogue like "Oh…I hate it when they scream," and supposedly weird things, like licking Blake Lively's spit off his own face. Which, admittedly, is pretty damned weird. A kiwi-fuzz John Travolta is on hand to play a dull, expository character, with a performance that illustrates a well-known fact; that John Travolta is a horrendously embarrassing actor, who cannot act to save his life. There's a scene added in the commercially available "extended edition" with him speaking to his dying wife, which beggars belief.

In fact, from casting to plot to substance to morality, there really is very little going on that's worth the wait, and the exorbitantly overlong 2 hours 15 running time goes past very slowly indeed. There are, however, a small handful of things which make this languorous, pretentious, shallow film worth watching, and however small they may be, they contribute an awful lot to this film as a whole. In no particular order, there's a fairly standard informer-punishing scene, with Del Toro in full creepy, over-the-top sadist mode, which overdoes the brutality on a scale appropriate to such an unrealistic, and out of scale film, and the attempts to squeeze a moral dilemma from Aaron Johnson's character seem particularly artificial. However, there's a nice moment of music which kicks in at the close of this scene – I believe the track name is "Force of Nature", from the fairly okay score album by Adam Peters. Suffice it to say, that this is the only decent merging of music and image to create an in any way dramatic effect, and it's one of those trailer scenes which sends a chill down your spine, despite the fact you're not really that involved with any of the characters. Because that's what a good soundtrack is capable of doing.

Secondly, and perhaps more importantly though, is Elena, the character, and Salma Hayek, the actress, who I would argue is the only half way decent performer in the entire movie. However, it's not just Salma's performance which is entertaining, but rather her characterisation as a slinky, sexual in control woman who is never objectified as such. Her long, silky black Cleopatra hair, and array of sumptuous gowns and stylish clothing serve to give her more presence than all the skeleton masked psychos going around killing people, and blowing things up. Credit to Costume Designer Cindy Evans and Hair Stylist Rhonda Ann Burns, more known for TV work than big screen fare for elevating this amazing character to iconic status. There's also a gorgeous scene, worth the entrance fee alone, where the regal Hayek sits back and has her feet massaged by Maya Merker, her Hispanic Maid, which she does with all the aloofness of a queen...and,she does have exceptionally beautiful feet. They are the stars of the show, definitely.

If you're still with it, then be prepared for one of the most pointless cinematic gambits you'll ever have seen, with an ending that's so clichéd and flat and pointless, that it had to be preceded by an imaginary over-the-top ending, just to make it seem more "reasonable" by comparison – which, by the way, it doesn't. It just concludes a long film unsatisfactorily, with more closeted references to a homosexual relationship between its lead actors than a Josef von Sternberg film. And that's saying something.

The extended edition actually offers virtually nothing to recommend it, and actually includes scenes which were wisely cut in the first place. It's just more of the same, really. So, like I said, there is virtually nothing to recommend it…other than the aforementioned gems. Which are pretty damn spectacular, let me tell you. But as a whole film? As an intelligent work of art? As a work of solid entertainment? Nah

A succession of admittedly well choreographed fight scenes, in an over-gritty, computer game like scenario. The opening scenes play out like nothing more than an elaborate, and well-filmed shoot-em-up, and the first twenty minutes or so are full of fairly standard gung-ho macho gun worship, and bang-bang action, of the sort that isn't remotely "realistic" - it focuses far more on over-elaborate squibs and gore effects than anything else. Once the guns are down, and Rama is taking on hordes of bad guys, then the film really takes off. However, we never quite leave behind the feeling of a slightly murky tightrope walk, between immorality, and just plain brutality. There's nothing heroic about "The Raid"'s fight scenes, and instead, there is little more than a grass roots heroism about the main character, which serves to justify the carnage that ensues.

Fight scenes unfold with a rapidity and intensity that is dynamic, but often or not, they are built round rather complex, or unusual "gags", or set pieces, and have little internal rhythmn of their own, which is why the best fight scenes are generally the short ones - when Rama goes up against the machete gang, or the dozen or so thugs in the first hallway. The end fight is gruelling indeed, and its' finale is another piece of gritty bloodshed, which never quite feels right, coming form the hero.

Traditional martial arts films - arguably, this film takes the "Game of Death" pagoda concept, and plonks it down in the middle of an urban, decayed environment - were about good people going up against scum, and handing them their butts. This feels more like a survival film, and the heroism is all but gone from the blandly idealistic Rama (well acted, but generally, rather conflicted in the scripting process), so instead, it's difficult to fully feel that we're on his side. It's a story which pares itself down to the absolute minimum, and its' attraction, its' selling point, is that it features realistic looking fight scenes, in an intense, and simplistic setting, without using the dreaded wirework, or CGi. It does this, indeed, but rather than over the top choreography, its' the intensity of its' wall to wall bloodshed that feels rather unrealistic. The movie's aesthetic is down and dirty, with both heroes and villains employing functional, but ugly fighting moves. It features impressive stuntwork definitely, however, and the fights are arguably as good looking as anything seen in films these days, but it's rather too unnecessarily bleak and bloody for its' own good - with a storyline of such comic-book simplicity, the over the top nature of the spaltter and dismemberment becomes rather wearing, and, far from feeling exciting, tends to be dwelt upon with a fetishistic zeal and attention, that makes you wonder just where the director's sympathies lie: with the idealistic, but brutal hero, or with the massacring psychopaths that he goes up against. Entertaining, it does what it sets out to do, but you could wish for a little more icing, and a little less grit, on your cake, than this.