Reviews

The spirits without

I picked up a couple of Blu-ray discs yesterday in a sale at Zammo that I probably wouldn't otherwise have bought were it not for the fact that they were on sale in a "2 for £20" deal. (Anyway, I was in a buoyant mood because I'd just received a large sum of money that had been incorrectly taken off me in taxes over the past twelve months of so, and felt like treating myself.)

One was Tekkonkinkreet, which caught my eye a while ago because it's one of those rare anime productions that I actually think has a semi-interesting visual style. The other, Final Fantasy: The Spirits Within, is a film that I'm not a massive fan of - in fact, the only reason I tolerate its soulless, stilted, so-called "realistic" visual style is the knowledge that the various imitators it spawned (e.g. Robert Zemeckis' butt-ugly The Polar Express and Beowulf) are a whole lot worse. Still, I kept hearing about how good the BD transfer supposedly was, so eventually I got fed up waiting for it to become available for rental and decided to plonk down the cash for it.

Anyway, I took a look at it tonight, and yes, it's a very good transfer. Not perfect, but still really impressive. My purchase of the standard definition DVD release, back in 2001, actually marked something of a special event for me because it was the point at which I started becoming aware just how many DVD reviewers were full of the proverbial. Put simply, the glowing 10/10, A++ and 100% ratings for image quality didn't match my own impression of it being overly filtered and riddled with compression artefacts. But I digress. The Blu-ray release is about as far as you can get from the DVD as you can get, although a small amount of filtering has been applied and is present throughout: check the light ringing around the text in the final capture below. It's fairly minor, but it means that the disc does just fall shy of perfection. I wonder why they thought it was necessary to do this.

Oh, and, as a side note, I do like that, despite the film never having touched celluloid, someone was thoughtful enough to actually try to make it look like film by adding a sheen of grain to it. The illusion is actually quite effective and goes some way towards making the motion captured CGI visuals look slightly less clunky and fake than they otherwise would have.

Final Fantasy: The Spirits Within
(Sony Pictures, UK, AVC, 25.2 GB)

Top-rate film gets third-rate treatment

Much to my surprise, I discovered yesterday that one of my favourite films, Jean-Pierre Jeunet's Amélie, had, without my knowledge, received a Blu-ray release, courtesy of Canadian label TVA Films.

I was all set to pick up a copy... until, that is, I read the review at Blu-ray.com. Not only does it not feature English subtitles (not unreasonable, given that it is a French film and TVA Films services the predominantly French-speaking Québec community), it also features a 1080i transfer, with a very mushy, low detail appearance, which can be seen from the screen captures posted along with the review. (You need to register with Blu-ray.com to see them at their full 1920x1080 resolution.)

So, while I would love to own this film in high definition, and while I don't doubt that it constitutes a noticeable upgrade over the standard definition DVD releases, I'm going to exercise considerable restraint and bide my time until another studio comes along and does it justice.

The depths of insanity

I got home from work yesterday to discover a veritable storm brewing over at the AV Science Forum. The topic was The Descent, one of my favourite horror films of the last few years and also one of my favourite Blu-ray releases. The controversy surrounded what can only be described as the most baffling anomaly I have seen regarding the format so far: apparently, there are two separate encodes being sold, one AVC and the other MPEG-2.

Yes, I wasn't prepared to believe it either at first. Why on earth would Lions Gate go to the trouble of pressing two completely different discs of the same film? We're still no closer to finding the answer to this perplexing conundrum, but what we do know is that, thanks to the in-depth investigations of AVS poster msgohan, there is absolutely no doubt that two different versions are doing the rounds. Does this ultimately make any difference to the end user? Well, take a look at the captures below and judge for yourself. They show the same frame on each of the two different discs.

Now you can understand why people who were sold the MPEG-2 version are rightly aggrieved and demanding to know what on earth is going on. I own the AVC version and I too am not a happy bunny. After all, last Halloween I reviewed the AVC version and gave it a 10/10 for image quality, a rating I still stand by. However, the fact that there is no actual discernible way of knowing which version of the disc you are picking up when you purchase it complicates the review somewhat. My 10/10 rating, after all, most assuredly does not stand for the MPEG-2 encode, which not only features more noticeable compression artefacts, but has also been pre-filtered to remove grain and fine detail. Now I'm in the unfortunate position of having written a review that may or may not actually be valid on a case by case basis.

As msgohan quite rightly puts it:

Not at all what I expected. So much for a nice, fair codec comparison. The Descent has been Warner'd! What numbnuts at Lionsgate thought this was a good idea?

You can see a whole series of captures, saved as lossless .png images, comparing the same frames from both versions, here.

Waking the Dead: Series 4, Episodes 7 and 8: Anger Management

Written by John Milne & Andy Hay; Directed by Andy Hay

"Not now, Grace. I'm having a post-crisis depression." - Detective Superintendent Peter Boyd

A curious episode, this one, and one which, particularly in its first half, adopts a rather unconventional structure, telling the story in a non-linear fashion and shifting back and forth between different time periods (in fact, the first thing we see is the last thing to happen chronologically). I wonder if this explains the crediting of the director, Andy Hay, as co-writer - the only time this has happened for a Waking the Dead script. I try to imagine the episode playing out in a linear fashion and do have my suspicions that this how it originally started out, with the material being re-ordered to spice it up.

Either way, the result is probably the best episode of the season, primarily because of the humour that ensues from Boyd finally going to see a therapist about his temper - something I'm sure we all agree has been a long time in coming. The therapist, played with acerbic glee by Kerry Fox, forces him to face up to his unpleasant behaviour:

Varley: "When you pace about, how do you react?"
Boyd: "I pace about, I raise my voice, you know..."
Varley: "Stamp your foot and say 'I want it now'?"
Boyd: "Yeah."
Varley: "That's what toddlers do."

Much of the humour comes from the fact that Boyd's behaviour, as a result of bottling up his anger, becomes increasingly more absurd, making his team feel even more uncomfortable around him as a result. And, naturally, by the next episode, everything's back to normal, but still, this slightly more even-tempered Boyd, while brief, makes for a nice change of pace.

The main case, meanwhile, focuses on the death of a man in a hostel, found with a bullet in his skull. The police assume it to be a suicide, but Frankie is convinced that the investigation has been botched and organises for the Cold Case Squad to take a look. Suspicion soon falls upon Sam Jacobs (Nigel Terry), a man who has just completed a stretch in prison for viciously assaulting a man who raped his wife. Sam claims to have put his violent past behind him, but, through a series of flashbacks and encounters with people from his past life, we soon come to learn that his acts of violence extend far beyond merely beating up a rapist.

Nigel Terry, the individual playing Sam Jacobs, is a gifted actor who shows up quite often in British TV series (you name it, he's probably been in it) and, in my opinion, doesn't get the credit he deserves. He was excellent in the opening two episodes of the previous series of Casualty as an animal rights activist whose home-made bomb unintentionally detonated in a crowded street, and, in Anger Management, he gives what I feel is his best performance that I've seen. Sam is a complex character, and, while there's never any doubt that he has secrets to hide, the precise nature of these secrets remains unclear until the end, and he is portrayed in such a manner that, even when we learn the full extent of his dark past, it's hard to lose sympathy with him. The dual nature of his life is nicely realised in many ways, among them a curious scene in which he and his family, despite being Buddhists, are shown to still bring in the Sabbath (their background is Jewish). Props also to the director for the rather inventive flamenco dance sequence which is intercut with a character preparing to break into CCHQ to retrieve some vital evidence.

DVD review: Spooks: Code 9

In a word, Spooks: Code 9 is shit. Not just run of the mill, take-one-look-and-change-the-channel shit, but oh-my-God-am-I-really-seeing-this shit. No doubt the brainchild of some jaded executive who saw the perfect opportunity to craft some exciting yoof TV and get down wif da kidz, the result is a bit like being locked in a room with Eugene Levy's character from the American Pie films. In other words, cringe-inducingly embarrassing, very probably for both parties.

As the BBC continues its tradition of running successful brands into the ground with needless spin-offs, I review Contender Home Entertainment's release of Spooks: Code 9, a youth-oriented spin-off of the successful spy series.

Waking the Dead: Series 4, Episodes 5 and 6: Fugue States

Written by Ed Whitmore; Directed by Ben Bolt

I have one significant complaint about this episode, and that's the suspension of disbelief required in order to accept the massive coincidence involving one character and the revelations regarding his/her relationship with another. Otherwise, this is cracking story, one of the very best of the series, which sees the team investigating the disappearance of a twin brother and sister during the Notting Hill carnival of 1990. The case is reopened when a DNA check on a young homeless man injured when he steps in front of a car reveals him to be the boy, Jason (Joe Armstrong), but a bout of insomnia (real or faked?) prevents him from revealing where he has been for nearly 15 years... or the whereabouts his sister, Cindy. In digging into the circumstances surrounding Jason's disappearance, the team uncovers a history of child abuse and dodgy dealings involving crooked goings-on with social services and an abduction conspiracy.

Any episode involving a missing child runs the risk of becoming repetitive given Boyd's own experiences in this area, and yes, it's true that he clearly sees Jason as something of a surrogate for his own missing son, becoming uncharacteristically protective of him (even turning down an opportunity to uncover further evidence as to where he has been because he is afraid it will traumatise him). However, the main personal thrust of this episode, unusually, falls on Mel's shoulders, following the revelation that she was in fact born Mary Price and, at a young age, was forcibly removed from her mother (deemed mentally unfit to care for her) and placed with foster parents. (This in turn results in a noticeable continuity gaffe in the sixth series when the issue of Mel's ancestry is raised, but I'll cover that at a later date.)

I've said this previously, but I'll repeat it here: I think Claire Goose is seriously underappreciated as an actor. Far from simply being a pretty face, she gives the characters she plays a degree of authenticity beyond what is on the page. When she was in Casualty, she gave what is in my opinion the best performance any actor has ever delivered in that show, in the episode Love Me Tender, and she does much the same here, imbuing the character enough depth that, when she flies off the handle and acts impulsively, you don't simply think she's being self-centred and projecting her own personal situation on to the ongoing investigation. Here, she commits a horrific act that is purely the result of her heightened emotional state, resulting in her jumping to the wrong conclusion as to a suspect's intentions, but she somehow retains our sympathy throughout.

Elsewhere, we get the usual witty banter between the team. I previously said Ed Whitmore's scripts tended to be drier than, say, Stephen Davis', but I should probably now take that back, as there are some absolute corkers in this episodes' dialogue, some of them rather clever. It's also, for once, reasonably coherent throughout, although I did find myself having to pause a couple of times to work out exactly what was going on in my head. Massive coincidence aside, it's all pretty logical too. A solid entry and the point at which this season, after a slightly rocky start with In Sight of the Lord, finds its feet before going to enjoy a continuous run of high quality episodes until its end.

Another day in bland collect-'em-up world

With the release of Diablo III still a long way off, many gamers are doing their best to find the Next Big Thing in the action RPG world to keep them entertained in the interim. A lot of people thought that might be Hellgate: London, designed by the creators of the first two Diablo games, but that turned out to be a disappointment for many. Others have looked to Titan Quest (which I can't say impressed me a great deal), which offered similar gameplay mechanics, this time in a world inspired by Greek Mythology.

Recently, a little game called Space Siege, developed by Gas Powered Games, came out for the PC. This is a game that sounds like great fun on paper: a slick, down-and-dirty ARPG pitting a solitary hero against hordes of aliens - a sort of heavily streamlined Diablo set in space. Its creative director - Gas Powered Games' CEO, Chris Taylor - also has an interesting pedigree, having masterminded a number of successful games, including Total Annihilation, Dungeon Siege and, most recently, Supreme Commander. Barring the latter, which I haven't played, his games have never done a great deal for me, with Total Annihilation's revolutionary use of terrain elevation and real-time 3D models (a rarity at the time in real-time strategy games) seeming to distract people from the overall blandness and homogeneity of the games design, and Dungeon Siege playing like a third-rate, dumbed-down version of Diablo with a few interesting tweaks in the form of party support and a dynamic character development system which automatically adjusted to the player's style of gameplay instead of going down the usual rigid class-based route. Still, despite not being particularly impressed by any of these games, I was more than willing to give Space Siege a go. After all, Diablo in space? Sounds like fun.

Then the reviews started coming in, basically summing up the game as bland, easy, dumbed-down beyond belief and completely, utterly generic. Undeterred, I downloaded the demo and had a go myself. Fifteen minutes later, having completed it, I promptly uninstalled it from my hard drive.

It's interesting, because one of the main criticisms levelled against Hellgate: London was that its developers were guilty of overreaching, setting their goals too high and over-hyping what was otherwise a pretty unremarkable game (which has always slightly confused me - were people expecting them to trumpet their game as "a middling game that doesn't aim too high" or something similar?). Space Siege's problem is the exact opposite: it's essentially a freeware casual game with lavish production values and an A-list price tag. Everything about it has been pared back to the barest minimum, resulting in a game that can't be accused of aiming too high because it doesn't seem to aim at all. There are no character classes, just a single generic hero with the mega-bland name of Seth Walker who gets access to a range of around ten guns over the course of the game. There are no stats or experience: instead, you level up at pre-determined moments and occasionally find a new weapon to replace your current one (you can't keep both). Effectively, the experience, loot and currency have all been homogenised into a single system of mechanical parts which are periodically dropped by fallen enemies, and in turn can be used at various stations to buy health, grenades etc. or upgrade your weapons and armour. It's all very flat and unimaginative, and the lack of a meaningful stats systems means that it's unclear what an upgrade of "+4 to armour" actually means in practice. It doesn't help that all of this is visualised in the form of graphics that are technically proficient but completely and utterly unimaginative, making Hellgate: London's oft-criticised monotonous environments look positively varied. In a sense, I suppose it looks the same as it plays, which is to some degree appropriate.

The one relatively original idea in the entire game is its system of cybernetics upgrades, in which Seth can choose to replace various body parts (e.g. eyes, arms, legs) with various robotic equivalents, which improve his abilities but in turn reduce his "humanity" rating. I'm told that the absolute ultimate is a cybernetic brain, but that in practice even this barely changes the gameplay one iota, beyond slightly altering other characters' reactions to him and resulting in a slightly different ending. As the inimitable Jeff Green (one of my favourite gaming journalists) said in his review at 1UP:

I went full robot, taking the ultimate final step: a cybernetic brain, which -- all told -- reduced my humanity to 5 percent. Fully expecting a dramatic or even traumatic change in my character (would I still be speaking the same heroic-yet-wooden dialogue?), I discovered that the game barely acknowledges it. In the final cut-scene, I saved the world...and apparently lived happily ever after as a robot.

If a bland, derivative, completely unimaginative and over-simplified point and click action game pitting a witless hero against hordes of witless space mutants sounds to you like a good use of your $50 and a fine way of passing the time before Diablo III's release, knock yourselves out. Myself, I think I'll just play Diablo II some more.

Waking the Dead: Series 4, Episodes 3 and 4: False Flag

Written by Stephen Davis; Directed by Suri Krishnamma

This was Stephen Davis' final episode of Waking the Dead, and it's a good one, not least because it feature the top brass finally doing what she should have done for ages now: commission a psychological report on Boyd. This is part of a rather interesting storyline which involves plans on the part of the Assistant Commissioner to either dismantle the Cold Case Squad or at the very least bring it under her direct jurisdiction. The catalyst for this is a breach of protocol in which Boyd admits to having entered a property without the appropriate warrant. As a result, the rest of the team feels that he has jeopardised their jobs. As later becomes clear, however, the culprit was in fact not Boyd but Spence: Boyd took the rap because he didn't want Spence's prospects of promotion to be affected. It's little moments like these that help make the characters more multi-faceted, something that is particularly important given Boyd's ever-increasing instability.

Like one of the writers' previous episodes, Special Relationships, this one ventures into political conspiracy territory, beginning with the discovery of a man's body in a car, a bullet through his head and an unexploded bomb strapped underneath. The body is identified as that of Gerald Doyle (Dan Morgan), a young man with decidedly pro-Republican views on the conflict in Northern Ireland, and his death is dated to the late 1970s, roughly coinciding with the assassination of Duncan Sanderson (Christopher Strauli), a prominent Conservative MP whose attitude towards Republicanism was nothing if not hard-line. Sanderson was killed by a bomb strapped under his car, and the similarity of the modus operandi between the two murders leads Boyd and the team to suspect a connection. Working on the hypothesis that Doyle was part of a Republican splinter group, they begin to uncover disturbing evidence suggesting that he and several other like-minded individuals were in fact assassinated at the behest of the British government.

As I've said before on numerous occasions, Waking the Dead is nothing if not a confusing programme, and, whenever they tackle high level conspiracies, things have a tendency to get really confusing. This is certainly the case here, and once again I found myself beginning to wonder if I'd lost my marbles during the final half-hour, but along the way there is some choice interaction between the team to keep the viewer engaged. Particularly choice are Grace's attempts to build a profile of the uncooperative Boyd, not to mention a particularly delicious opportunity to watch the man squirm in which Frankie assures him she can defuse an unexploded bomb, before proceeding to ask him which colour of wire he thinks she should cut first. It all gets a tad muddled towards the end, and the denouement for the individual behind the killings is less than satisfactory, but it's once again a strong episode and a nice swansong for a writer whose standard of episodes has been consistently high.

Holby connections: Peter De Jersey, who plays Dr. Chris Reed in this episode, appeared in Holby City as charge nurse Steve Waring between Series 3 and 5.

Waking the Dead: Series 4, Episodes 1 and 2: In Sight of the Lord

Written by Tony McHale; Directed by Andy Hay

Shortly after Waking the Dead's third series had completed its initial run, it won an Emmy (oddly enough, for what I consider the weakest episode of that series, Multistorey). The result was that, for the fourth series, it received an extended run of twelve episodes, up from the usual eight. The same producer, Richard Burrell, remained on board, and he succeeded in securing the same key writers who had been responsible for the show's growth.

Oddly enough, though, Series 4 starts with a storyline penned by an outsider. Tony McHale is the creator and current executive producer/lead writer of Holby City; he also wrote and directed several episodes of Casualty between Series 9 and 14. His scripts, particularly of late, have had something of an unhealthy obsession with religion, Christianity to be precise. In fact, it seems to be his goal to get as many storylines revolving around religion as possible in the show under his guidance. This episode of Waking the Dead is no exception, offering up a whole lot of cryptic biblical references in a storyline which involves a serial killer hammering nine inch nails into the skulls of various men who were formerly soldiers in a Second World War army battalion.

This two-parter is unusual in that whereas normally Waking the Dead's storylines start off reasonably logical and then throw you for a loop in the final half-hour, it's actually the other way round this time. That's not to say that the episode is particularly difficult to follow, but, for the first hour and a half, the writing is rather choppy, lurching from one plot development to another without a clear sense of logical progression. Boyd and the team make several rather odd leaps in logic, and while the majority of them don't end up playing out (such as Boyd's seemingly out-of-the-blue suggestion that the victims could have been Communists and were therefore assassinated for their political beliefs), I get the sense that McHale knew where he wanted to end up but had a bit of trouble actually getting there.

Actually, of all the Waking the Dead storylines, this is probably actually the most giallo-like of the lot, not only in terms of the killer's motivation but also his attire: he wears a black coat, black fedora and black gloves, and at one point even employs the sort of harsh whisper that many a giallo killer has been known to employ in order to disguise his voice. The director, Andy Hay, has clearly watched some Argento in his time.

Elsewhere, it's business as usual. Boyd has sprouted a rather alarming amount of facial hair, which in turn seems to have done nothing for his temper ("I don't give a shit about your rights!" he bellows at one suspect who has asked for his lawyer to be present). Meanwhile, see if you can spot how often Frankie is conveniently positioned behind a table or another character: the actress, Holly Aird, was pregnant at the time, and, as the series progressed, the production team had to resort to greater and greater lengths to conceal her ballooning stomach.

Waking the Dead: Series 3, Episodes 7 and 8: Final Cut

Written by Stephen Davis; Directed by Betsan Morris Evans

It's always struck be that, apart from Boyd, the only character in Waking the Dead whose past we know anything about is Spence. He would end up being the main focus of the Series 5 finale, and here, two years earlier, his childhood comes back to haunt him in a rather convoluted storyline that also ropes in his mother and missing father. That's about as personal as things ever get in this show, and it's somewhat odd, given that I've always felt that Spence was the least interesting of the original line-up of characters (now, once the insufferable Eve arrives for Series 6, that's another matter entirely...). I'm not convinced that the revelations of this episode do anything for the character of Spence, given that they are never referenced again and really don't succeed in making him any more interesting, but at least his role is something more than functional in this episode.

Anyway, what follows is an extremely convoluted plot, even by Waking the Dead's standards, which somehow ties together the Mafia, drug smuggling, an extremely violent movie, bizarre burial rituals in a black community, numerous dead bodies concealed in a derelict building, and Ken Russell as a foul-mouthed, booze-soaked director with an overinflated opinion of his own abilities (haha). I've seen this one three times now and I'm still not entirely convinced I've worked it all out, but at least I'm not completely scratching my head in confusion as I was with Walking on Water earlier in the series. As with that episode, the first part is better than the second, and I suspect that has a lot to do with the face that most of the confusion emerges in the final 30 minutes, but, that said, it's a strong episode overall and an effective end to a series that has, barring the rather forgettable season premiere, turned out to be better than I remembered. Oh, and, to the best of my knowledge, it's also the only episode to include a character using the word "fuck". You rebels!

Holby connections: Camelia Baptiste is played by Sharon D. Clarke, who currently appears in Holby City as consultant Lola Griffin.

Waking the Dead: Series 3, Episodes 5 and 6: Breaking Glass

Written by Stephen Davis; Directed by David Thacker

"Yes, it is a speculation, Grace. I'm allowed to speculate - in fact I get paid to speculate." - Detective Superintendent Peter Boyd

I'm slightly surprised, in retrospect, that I'd completely forgotten about this episode, given that, not long after I started watching it the other night, I immediately remembered it as one of my favourites. The investigation focuses on a young man, Terence Tanner (Charlie Creed-Miles), who, during a session of hypnotherapy, uncovered repressed memories of the abuse he suffered as a child in a care home. Initially sceptical, Boyd quickly becomes convinced that all is not right when the man in question is discovered to be someone other than who he claimed to be, and abruptly disappears from his home armed with a gun. Searching his computer reveals that he may be looking for a man he knows as "Papa Doc", his former abuser. However, given that the man widely believed to be Papa Doc, Peter Murdoch, committed suicide years ago, the team have to contend with the fact that, if he isn't stopped, Tanner may end up hurting the wrong man... unless, that is, Murdoch was framed.

Perhaps what is most effective about this episode is the way in which it intermingles past and present without resorting to any of the traditional flashback cutting associated with film and television. Instead, the director, David Thacker, seamlessly shifts between the two simply by moving the camera and, through various tricks, giving off the impression of having moved from one location and/or time period to another. From a purely logistical point of view, it must have been a nightmare to setup.

Beyond the aesthetics, though, we also have an excellent script, one which provides a fascinating look at the nature of having two distinct personalities and how it occurs in the first place (often as a result of unbearable trauma). As tends to be the case with Stephen Davis' episodes, the treatment of the subject matter, while sensitive, is not above throwing in the odd bit of dry wit to lighten the mood. "I've got some bad memories, but I haven't split my personality," says Mel. "How do you know?" replies Frankie. I really miss this sort of banter between the team, and I'm acutely aware that it will disappear all too soon when two members of the cast are lost at the end of Series 4. We also get an interesting and unusually convincing (for television) portrayal of what this layman takes to be autism or Asperger syndrome, in which I detect something of the hand of creator/consulting producer Barbara Machin, given certain similarities between this and her equally effective portrayal of bipolar disorder in her Series 13 Casualty episode, One from the Heart.

Casualty: Series 22 - we have a weak pulse... a very weak pulse

Well, it's all over once more. Another tortuous and overlong series of Casualty wound to a close tonight, and in what has become something of a trend of late, it ended with a whimper rather than a bang. A friend of mine recently asked me why I continued to watch this programme when I had almost nothing positive to say about it, and I must confess I was at something of a loss to explain myself. I suppose the best answer I can give is that, every now and then, it throws something at me that makes slogging through hour after hour of poorly written, inadequately researched, at times frankly embarrassing mush seem worthwhile after all. These moments are rare, but they do come along every now and then.

Anyway, as befits something into which I have sunk a good 40 hours out of the last 11 months (each episode runs for 50 minutes), I'm going to treat Series 22 of Casualty to a mammoth post. You have been warned.

Ratings:

These are my ratings (out of 10) for each of the 48 episodes of Series 22. I've marked particularly good (8/10 or higher) episodes in bold and particularly bad (3/10 or lower) ones in italics.

22.01: "My First Day" (Part 1 of 2) by Mark Catley - 9/10
22.02: "Charlie's Anniversary" (Part 2 of 2) by Mark Catley - 10/10 (best episode of Series 22)
22.03: "Meltdown" by Sasha Hails - 6/10
22.04: "No End of Blame" by Patrick Wilde - 8/10
22.05: "Sliding Doors" by Rachel Flowerday - 6/10
22.06: "Core Values" by Al Smith - 5/10
22.07: "Inappropriate Behaviour" by Michael Jenner - 7/10
22.08: "My Aim is True" by Jason Sutton - 3/10
22.09: "As One Door Closes..." by Stephen McAteer - 6/10
22.10: "Finding the Words" by Katharine Way & Mark Catley - 8/10
22.11: "A House Divided" by Daisy Coulam - 8/10
22.12: "Strangers When We Meet" by Jason Sutton - 2/10
22.13: "How Soon is Now" by Ian Kershaw - 7/10
22.14: "Inheritance" by Rachel Flowerday - 6/10
22.15: "Behind Closed Doors" by Mark Catley - 6/10
22.16: "Snowball" by Suzie Smith - 6/10
22.17: "(What's So Funny 'Bout) Peace Love and Understanding" by Gert Thomas - 8/10
22.18: "Take a Cup of Kindness Yet" (Part 1 of 2) by Sasha Hails - 6/10
22.19: "For Auld Lang Syne" (Part 2 of 2) by Sasha Hails - 8/10
22.20: "Broken Homes" by Steve Keyworth - 7/10
22.21: "Adrenaline Rush" by Stephen McAteer - 4/10
22.22: "Take it Back" by Rachel Flowerday - 5/10
22.23: "Where's the Art in Heartache?" by Jason Sutton - 4/10
22.24: "Before a Fall" by Dana Fainaru - 7/10
22.25: "Sex and Death" by Mark Catley - 9/10
22.26: "Say Say My Playmate" by Abi Bown - 3/10
22.27: "Silent All These Years" by Laura Watson - 4/10
22.28: "Thicker Than Water" by Jason Sutton - 5/10
22.29: "Diamond Dogs" by David Bowker - 7/10
22.30: "Face the World" by Jeff Young - 2/10 (worst episode of Series 22)
22.31: "To Thine Own Self Be True" by Patrick Wilde - 7/10
22.32: "Bricks and Daughters" by Paul Jenkins - 6/10
22.33: "Someone's Lucky Night" by Mark Cairns - 8/10
22.34: "Walk the Line" by Rachel Flowerday - 3/10
22.35: "The Great Pretenders" by Jack Kelsey - 7/10
22.36: "Love is..." by Sasha Hails - 5/10
22.37: "Saturday Night Fever" by Mark Catley - 7/10
22.38: "When Love Came to Town" by Jeff Povey - 8/10
22.39: "Opposing Forces" by Jason Sutton - 5/10
22.40: "Have a Go, Hero" by Martha Hillier - 6/10
22.41: "Is She Really Going Out With Him?" by Martin Jameson - 5/10
22.42: "They May Not Mean To But They Do" by Paul Logue - 7/10
22.43: "I Can Hear the Grass Grow" by Ian Kershaw - 6/10
22.44: "Salt and Sugar" by Jason Sutton - 4/10
22.45: "Paradise Lost" by Ellen Taylor - 5/10
22.46: "The Things We Do For..." by Dana Fainaru - 4/10
22.47: "This Mess We're In: Part 1" by Daisy Coulam - 7/10
22.48: "This Mess We're In: Part 2" by Sasha Hails - 6/10

Key writers: Jason Sutton (6 episodes), Mark Catley (5½ episodes), Sasha Hails (5 episodes), Rachel Flowerday (4 episodes)

What worked:

Season premiere: The two-part opener which began the series was everything I used to expect from Casualty and more besides. It may have set up unrealistically high expectations for the rest of the series, but at the time I was very happy indeed. In addition to dispensing with the soap opera element, these two episodes above all grounded the drama by focusing squarely on two characters, one new recruit (Toby) and one old stalwart (Charlie), and their reactions to the unfolding carnage. I wrote quite extensively about these two episodes immediately after they aired, and I direct you to my original post on the matter.

Scaling back the soap: Initially, the soap opera elements which blighted the last few years (specifically the Series 16-21 period) were toned down considerably in Series 22, to the extent that, for the first few episodes, they were almost entirely absent. Inevitably, they started to creep back in after a while, but I don't personally have too much of a problem with that. While the "who fancies who" element doesn't do much for me, particularly when I find it hard to care about either party, I'm certainly not about to begrudge it to those who do enjoy that element. It's all about balance, and, provided the soap element doesn't overwhelm the medical element, then I have no problem with it being there.

An increase in good episodes: While the output of this series has, on the whole, been very varied, with several weak episodes and a few truly awful ones, there were far more genuinely good episodes this series than in the previous one. In addition to the excellent two-part opener, Sex and Death stands out as an episode which, despite my reservations about the portrayal of the character of Ruth, was a solid achievement in terms of storytelling and jetisoning the Casualty formula. (You can read my extended thoughts on this episode here.) In addition, several other episodes, although lacking the "special event" factor of the ones I previously mentioned, nonetheless stood out as being solid efforts, whether because they managed to tell a standard storyline in an interesting way (in the case of the effects of addiction in A House Divided), or because of a standout performance from a guest actor (as with Aisling Loftus in Broken Homes), or for any number of other reasons. In the glory days, such episodes would have been considered the norm rather than the exception. These days, however, I'm sorry to say that I tend to be pleasantly surprised when I get something that makes me think or affects me emotionally.

The "film look": With this series, Casualty finally abandoned the old interlaced video look that it had used since its inception in favour of a more film-like, non-interlaced appearance. While the colour grading and contrast tweaks that initially accompanied it seemed to largely be abandoned after the first three episodes (perhaps it was deemed to time-consuming to colour correct 50 minutes' worth of material on an almost weekly basis, or perhaps they got too many complaints from fuddy-duddies), the show, as a whole, now has a more professional look than it had in the last few years prior to this change.

The removal of Harry Harper: While I thought the storyline involving his exit was eye-rollingly idiotic in the extreme, words cannot express how glad I am that this (to quote a friend of mine) "crass, overbearing, arrogant, insufferable, hypocritical, bottom orifice" was finally given the boot after blighting our screens for nearly six years. His arrival, towards the end of Series 16, seemed to coincide with the dismantling of what the show originally stood for, pushing out the ensemble element in favour of a one-man show about a pompous consultant and his adoring underlings (even his five-month hiatus last year seemed to be structured entirely around how everything was going to pot without him there to steer the ship), and, as the months turned into years, he become more and more insufferable. It doesn't help that the actor playing him, Simon MacCorkindale, appears to have graduated from the School of Scenery Chewing, magnifying the character's negative traits and ensuring that ignoring him whenever he was on screen simply was not an option. All in all, I was delighted to see this dreadful character finally hanging up his stethoscope, and I'm just sorry it took so long.

More Charlie: Charlie (Derek Thompson) is the only character out of the original cast to still be in the show, and for many people, he is the strongest anchor to what Casualty once was. He remains the most well-rounded character, and while the actor's performance can be a little, erm, erratic at times, he continues to provide a strong anchor for the show, grounding it in some semblance of reality and serving as someone with whom the audience to identify. (He's also an atheist, and there aren't enough of them on TV.) In recent years, and particularly as the series have become longer, Charlie has had fewer and fewer appearances, and when he has appeared has done little of any value. There was something of a change this series, with two episodes (Charlie's Anniversary and (What's So Funny 'Bout) Peace Love and Understanding) being shown entirely from his point of view. He played a far more significant role than he has for years, being at the centre of two of the longest-running storylines this series (although, given the overall quality of these storylines, I'm not sure this is necessarily something to be celebrated). By my count he appeared in 31 out of 48 episodes, including a straight 14-episode run at the end of the series, which is a first since... oh, Series 14 at least. That might not sound like much, but it's an improvement on his 20 appearances in Series 20, and 25 in Series 21, and that's despite a three-month sabbatical this year.

What didn't work:

Scaling back the soap, part 2: For all the writers' good intentions, the decreased emphasis on the soap opera element didn't last, and, after a few months, they fell right back into their old habits. As the second half of the series rolled round, the soap became more and more pronounced, to the extent that, if things continue in this vein for much longer, I fear that we could be right back where we started again within a year.

Cast turnover: This series saw a grand total of 9 characters leaving and 13 new ones joining (two of the departures being characters who had only joined the show during this series) - a ridiculously large turnover that has not been matched by any previous series. While, for the most part, those who left were characters I either didn't like or didn't care about either way, there is one particularly egregious exception, and that is the departure of Josh Griffiths (Ian Bleasdale), a stalwart of the show who first joined way back in Series 4. Had his departure occurred about a decade ago, I would probably have been disappointed but would eventually have moved on, given that he would have stood a high chance of being replaced by a character who was decent in his or her own right. In any event, Casualty in the early days survived the departure of several mainstays thanks to the quality of the ongoing storylines. In recent years, however, the show has come to rely more and more on an ever-dwindling group of established characters, who have helped keep its head above water by countering all the inanities with a degree of normality. Josh was one of the last of these characters, and losing him was what someone described to me as "the penultimate nail in the coffin" (the final nail, of course, being the character of Charlie, who exited briefly at Christmas but mercifully returned three months later). Of course, it doesn't help that, like virtually every other exit this series, Josh's departure storyline was utterly daft (my thoughts on it here).

By the end of this series, only seven characters remained who had been introduced during previous series, less than half of whom had been with the show for more than two years. Worse still, two of the characters who were introduced this series were each brought in solely to fuel a particular storyline and were them promptly discarded as soon as it had run its course. And this leads us on to my next criticism...

Too many characters = not enough screen time: Casualty, as it currently stands, has a regular cast of 19 characters (although, given the end of series departures, the ranks will have been thinned a little when Series 23 begins), which, given that each episode is only 50 minutes long, is an absurd number and causes serious problems in terms of giving everyone adequate screen time. While I can certainly see the point of having a decent number of characters - each episode takes two weeks to film, which means that between two and three episodes are in production at any one time, necessitating the need for there to be enough actors so as not to require someone to be in three places at once - surely there's a happy medium to be achieved? There were characters in this series who got to speak one or two lines per episode (for example poor Alice, pictured opposite, being used as a footstool by the producer... sorry, I mean a patient), provided they opened their mouths at all, while the main action seemed to be centred around a chosen few.

Quality of episodes: While, as mentioned above, there was an increase in the number of good episodes this year as compared to the previous series, the standard still fell way short of what I would have liked to see. The majority of the episodes were neither particularly good nor particularly awful. (Some episodes combined the very good with the spectacularly awful, such as Salt and Sugar, which was made watchable by an interesting portrayal of anorexia, despite the utter drivel going on around it.) Most were simply uneventful and unremarkable in every way, while others contained some good ideas but were let down by being mixed in with bad ones, or by ineffectual execution. As with last year, the biggest slump came immediately after New Year with a series of episodes that were either mind-numbingly boring or featured central concepts so flawed that they were impossible to enjoy. The biggest debacle during this period was the storyline involving Ruth Winters' attempted suicide, which led Harry Harper to take action that eventually resulted in him being forced out. While this gave us two highly positive outcomes (the excellent episode Sex and Death and the removal of the most odious character in Casualty's 22-year history), the actual storyline itself was not only fudged but also completely and utterly reprehensible from a moral standpoint...

Absurd storylines: For those who don't know, Harry decided to read Ruth's private diary while she was lying upstairs in a coma, and then took it upon himself to publish the aforementioned diary to "highlight the plight of junior doctors everywhere". Words cannot express how moronic this is. Not only is it illegal to publish something someone has written without their consent, the contents of the diary made it blatantly obvious that the problem was not the system and its treatment of junior doctors but rather Ruth herself. But oh no, Harry was made out to be a righteous crusader for justice and was even greeted by a round of applause from the staff during his send-off. In reality, I suspect that the only storyline that would have remotely satisfied me in terms of an exit for this character would have been to have the entire episode consist of him writhing on the ground as every single person he had ever belittled, bullied, sneered at or otherwise demeaned in any way took it in turns to kick him very hard where the sun doesn't shine. Come to think of it, such an event would probably require an entire season to be devoted to it so as to fit everyone in, so perhaps I should be grateful for what we actually got.

To be honest, more or less every long-running storyline this series was either botched in its execution (such as the aforementioned MIU storyline, which could have been quite interesting from an ethical standpoint) or a stupid idea to begin with (let's introduce a new character purely so we can play out a pointless storyline involving an unidentified member of staff posting derogatory comments about his/her co-workers on a blog - hey, do you think the new guy who show up one episode earlier might be the culprit?). Oh, and let's not forget when we were expected to forgive the actions of an internet stalker (who fabricated an identity and wooed a hospital employee for several months before getting cold feet and faking his creation's death) because he turned out to know sign language.

Lack of continuity: There has been a really nasty habit throughout this series of ignoring past characterisations and events. Sometimes this can be fairly minor, such as a long-running character who has been shown in the past to know sign language conveniently losing this ability so that another character can come in and save the day. Other times, it's far more damning, with basic aspects of a character's personality being completely ignored in order to serve the ongoing storyline. Charlie, for example, a man of strong principles and a staunch believer in the NHS, was reduced, in the second half of the series, to a rambling buffoon who, in objecting to the establishment of a privately-funded minor injuries unit within the hospital, decided to turn his misgivings into a personal vendetta against one of its employees.

On a less severe but still incredibly irritating and stupid level, we got to experience the age-old soap opera trick of accelerating a character's ageing process to a ridiculous degree, with Charlie's son, Louis (born September 1996) mysteriously transforming into a stroppy, spotty-faced teenager (played by a 20-year-old, no less) purely so the writers could play out some half-baked storyline about him truanting and smoking pot. It's at times like these that the powers that be demonstrate their utter contempt for their audience.

Age acceleration is something I've never seen Casualty do before, but continuity as a whole was a problem last year as well, and I think the blame can be attributed to two issues: the absurd length of the series (48 episodes - come on!), and the lack of attention being paid to characterisation by the script editors. In British TV, a script editor's job is to maintain continuity from one episode to the next - a very important role given than many different writers are involved, most of whom are freelancers. Based on the total lack of consistency that has been demonstrated by Casualty of late, the script editors are completely incompetent.

Too many cooks spoil the broth: I'm a big believer in consistency, both in front of the camera and behind it. There's a reason for my including the writer(s) responsible for each episode in the listing above, and that's to give some idea of just how many different people had their ladles in the pan. In certain cases, these writers had already written for Casualty in the past, some of them back when the show was still good on a reasonably consistent basis (Patrick Wilde, Katharine Way, Suzie Smith, Jeff Povey), but for many of these writers, this was their first time contributing to Casualty, and more often than not this inexperience manifested itself in poor writing and characterisation. I realise that British TV shows don't have a permanent group of staff writers like they do in the US (instead, each episode is essentially written on a freelance basis), but surely it makes sense to at least have the key episodes written by those who know the show and its characters instead of farming them out to some random person who has written a couple of episodes of EastEnders or Doctors (if that)? Casualty in its golden age boasted some pretty impressive writing talent - Barbara Machin, Bryan Elsley, Bill Gallagher, Peter Bowker, Ben Aaronovitch - but nowadays it seems that the only required criteria to qualify as a writer is to be able to hold a pen and construct some domestic strife. The death knell of any show is when you find yourself thinking "I could do better than this," and I'm sorry to say that that is exactly what I was thinking on several occasions.

Best and Worst:

Top 5 episodes:
5. 22.17 "(What's So Funny 'Bout) Peace Love and Understanding" by Gert Thomas
4. 22.33 "Someone's Lucky Night" by Mark Cairns
3. 22.25 "Sex and Death" by Mark Catley
2. 22.01 "My First Day" by Mark Catley
1. 22.02 "Charlie's Anniversary" by Mark Catley

I think there may be a pattern here.

Bottom 5 episodes:
5. 22.26 "Say Say My Playmate" by Abi Brown
4. 22.34 "Walk the Line" by Rachel Flowerday
3. 22.08 "My Aim is True" by Jason Sutton
2. 22.12 "Strangers When We Meet" by Jason Sutton
1. 22.30 "Face the World" by Jeff Young

Well, that's it for another four or five weeks. Now I just have time to recharge my batteries before doing it all over again with Series 23. I am nothing if not a glutton for punishment.

Waking the Dead: Series 3, Episodes 3 and 4: Walking on Water

Written by Simon Mirren; Directed by Andy Hay

After yet another extended delay, I finally get back into Waking the Dead's third series, and with a significantly better episode than the season premiere. Taking the same path as Series 2's Special Relationships, the plot this time focuses on a man, Mark Lovell (Craig Kelly), who has recently been acquitted of the murder of his adoptive father, Thomas, an event which took place almost a decade ago. On the night of the murder, four other members of the family vanished without a trace along with their boat. When the latter is discovered off the coast near the family home and salvaged, Boyd reopens the investigation, the assumption being that, if they can find out what happened to the rest of the family, they stand a good chance of finding Thomas' real killer. Unfortunately, since he was locked up, Mark has changed - dramatically so. He is now Maria, and Maria is proving to be less than cooperative when it comes to dredging up Mark's past.

It's at this stage that Waking the Dead becomes very, very confusing, and I must confess that, despite having now seen the episode three times, I'm still completely flummoxed by what is supposed to be going on in the final twenty minutes. It doesn't help that the writer, Simon Mirren, inserts a Big Huge Plot Twist out of left field, involving conspiracies, espionage and drug smuggling, and it's a shame, because everything leading up to these final twenty minutes is very good. I love the way the script pokes fun at Boyd's discomfort when faced with Mark/Maria. Much like with David Hemmings' character in Argento's Profondo Rosso, Boyd isn't disgusted by the sight of a man dressed as a woman: he simply doesn't know how to deal with the situation. I've said it before and I'll say it again: for all his tantrums and crudity, Boyd is actually a pretty liberal fellow, something of a rarity in TV detectives. (When Spence asks how Mark's gender disorder affects his status as a suspect, Boyd snaps back "It doesn't.")

There's some nice direction in this episode too, including a very neat shot of a body being slid out of a storage freezer, shown from the point of view of the body. On the other hand, I'm not wild about the various shots of the dead appearing and vanishing while Frankie is working alone on the salvaged boat. It's getting a little too close to the pseudo-mysticism that plagued some of the later episodes for my liking.

Holby connections: The writer of this episode, Simon Mirren, penned several episodes of Casualty during the Series 13-14 period (he's also Helen Mirren's nephew), while Craig Kelly, who plays Mark Lovell, starred as SHO Daniel Perryman throughout Casualty's tenth series.

Why Britain will never complete with Boll and Fagrasso

Note: this film was sent to me by Baron Scarpia as part of our ongoing trade in dreadful movies. You can read his thoughts on the film in question here.

My good friend the Baron once opined that the UK traditionally doesn't have much of a track record for producing truly awful filmmakers. While Italy has given us Claudio Fragasso and Germany has bestowed Uwe Boll upon us, and America is responsible for Tom Green, I don't really think the British Isles has an equivalent. Broadly speaking, Britain tends to make films in the "drippy toffs played by Hugh Grant who find love" or "grimy northern squalor picture in which everyone has perpetually just been laid off from their job down the coal mines" models, and most of them are far from dreadful, just mind-numbingly tedious and depressing. Occasionally, an exception to the rule comes along, such as Pawel Pawlikowski's romantic drama My Summer of Love or Neil Marshall's excellent monster horror flick The Descent, which serve to suggest that perhaps the British film industry shouldn't be dismantled after all, but by and large this country wastes its lottery grants on brain-destroying crap like Sex Lives of the Potato Men (of which I managed to stomach approximately twelve minutes before turning off my TV and disconnecting it from the wall lest it somehow turn itself back on and subject me to yet more pain).

There's a third broad category of British film about which I've yet to say anything, and that's the gangster movie à la Guy Ritchie. I don't like gangster movies, particularly British ones. There are few things I find more irritating than watching a bunch of gristle-chinned wannabe thugs swaggering about, talking in incomprehensible Cockney accents and calling each other unpleasant names. About the only thing I find passably interesting about them is the moral grey area in which they operate, broadly speaking encouraging the audience to align its sympathies with a bunch of moral degenerates for whom theft, assault and murder is a way of life. It's possible to pull off if you're good: I'm sure I'm not alone in finding Hannibal Lecter to be a highly compelling character in spite of (or perhaps because of) his nastiness. Lecter isn't a gangster, but he serves to illustrate a point: if done right, it's possible to root for the bad guy.

The All Saints eagerly examine the papers for reviews of their film.

Honest doesn't get a lot of things right. For a start, it stars three-quarters of a British girl group known as All Saints. (If you've never heard of them, don't worry. They were never really relevant to begin with and are extremely unlikely to become so in the near or distant future.) If you've had the misfortune of seeing Mariah Carey or Britney Spears' forays into the world of acting, you'll know that such endeavours rarely meet with success, and that's before you even begin to take acting ability into consideration. The All Saints (I'm not going to bother referring to them by their actual names, because neither they nor their characters do anything in particular distinguish themselves from each other), I must assure you, cannot act. Given that at least one of them appears in virtually every single scene in the film, you'd be forgiven for assuming this to be a massive problem. Oddly enough, it's not, and the reason for that is that their incompetence is matched on every level, if not dwarfed, by a dreadful script, moronic direction and an outlook so morally derelict that it makes Dr. Lecter simply seem like a cheeky chappy who went a wee bit too far.

The All Saints, you see, are gangsters. Hard-talking ladies who walk the streets of 1960s East End London and routinely do things like steal diamonds and threaten innocent bystanders with crowbars and shotguns. One such jaunt goes wrong, and one of the Saints ends up being apprehended by and falling in love with a wretched excuse for a journalist, whose seemingly radical prose is matched in its incompetence only by every single other act of incompetence committed by the filmmakers. Along the way, we get to see the All Saints doing their damnedest to act menacing, getting stoned out of their minds and having a slow motion argument inside a moving vehicle. No, that last part is not a typo.

Cos this is, like, what the 60s was all about.

This film was directed by David A. Stewart, who the Internet Movie Database handily tells me was part of the Eurythmics. Barring some music videos that he shot for his own band, Honest was the first thing he ever directed, and I'm pleased to report that he has never stepped behind a camera since. He also provided the film's music and co-wrote the script (along with Dick Clement and Ian La Frenais, who between them have written everything from Porridge to Across the Universe). A man of many talents, clearly. Or not. You see, consider that one person had his hand in so many pies and it begins to look pretty obvious why every single one of them tastes foul. No matter what's wrong with this movie (and there's a lot wrong with it), Stewart is the common factor. This is a man who thinks that the most exciting part of a car chase is a conversation taking place between the vehicles passengers, and that the best way to accentuate the tension is not to show exterior shots of the car travelling in slow motion, but to show close-ups of the characters talking in slow motion. He also believes that slowing down and speeding up his footage to a handy "Whoomfff!" sound effect is the height of stylishness, that shots of naked people writhing around during an acid trip is, like, the coolest, most provocative thing ever, and that the All Saints can act. To be fair, you could argue that he is simply being let down by useless leads, but then he also manages to draw useless performances from competent actors like James Cosmo and Corin Redgrave, which puts paid to that theory. (Oh, and Matt Bardock, who currently plays Cockney wideboy paramedic Jeff in Casualty, appears in this film as a Cockney wideboy gangster. I wonder if the loss of hair that he experienced between his appearances in these two productions is to do with the stress resulting in the knowledge that he had appeared in such a train wreck.)

Did I mention the script? Clement and La Frenais have done good work elsewhere, so I can only assume that, once again, the problems stem from our friend Mr. Stewart. Gangster movies generally have the unenviable task of aligning the audience's sympathies with people who are utterly nasty individuals who, by rights, should be locked away for the rest of their lives somewhere where the sun doesn't shine. Most gangster movies are reasonable honest about this and either don't attempt to excuse their anti-heroes' behaviour, or at the very least pit them against people who are equally or more repugnant than they are. Honest, despite its title, is anything but. At every possible occasion, the script attempts to exonerate the All Saints for their contemptible behaviour by offering pitiful excuses like suggesting that they don't like doing it (don't do it, then), that they're only doing it to get their dad a new telly (get a job, then), or that it's because their mother is dead (get over it, then). Oh, and we have a tasteless little subplot involving one of them teaching a lesson to a next-door neighbour who routinely assaults his girlfriend, which again is only there to show us that the girls are good after all, innit? (The Saint in question, incidentally, pours engine oil down the offending ladybasher's throat, which, in addition to being incredibly messy, strikes me as about as distasteful as you can get once you realise that the writers actually want you applaud this act of torture.)

One of the All Saints recreates how she got the part.

Oh, and the film is also content to wallow in its own hypocrisy, opening with the girls chastising a security guard for looking at pornography, despite the fact that the film is loaded to the gills with gratuitous nudity, the most leering of which is provided by two-thirds of the three-quarters of the All Saints, neither of whom are even attractive enough to warrant such exposure. I have, however, provided a picture of one of them, in order to rub their faces in their own double standards.

All this is well and good, but the film's greatest crime, by far, is how boring it is, and this is where my opinion and the Baron's part ways. The Baron, you see, feels that a film can do worse than be boring. I, on the other hand, think that there is no greater crime. Note to filmmakers: you can be as incompetent and as morally bankrupt as you like, but provide you do so in a semi-interesting way, you may at least retain my attention. Unfortunately, for the most part watching Honest is like watching paint dry. There are a few moments that make me shake my head in disbelief and cry out "What the fuck were they thinking?", but, for the most part, it's simply as dull and worthless as virtually every other British movie, and it's because of that that it doesn't make it into "so bad it's good territory". It's just a feckless, incompetently made waste of celluloid.

Incidentally, the back cover of the DVD proclaims that this film is a "cult classic". Presumably, in the same way that Manos: The Hands of Fate and ET: The Extra-Terrestrial for the Atari 2600 are cult classics.

But... but... grain!

Paramount's HD DVD release of Babel features a stellar transfer (note: the MPEG-2 Blu-ray version is not reviewed here) which shows off the varied methods of photography to great effect. From the rough, 16mm Moroccan scenes to the 35mm anamorphic look of Tokyo, there's really nothing to complain about here barring some minor artefacting. Predictably, not all reviewers were quite so impressed, some of them labelling the abundant grain a "problem with the transfer" (morons), but I'll let you judge for yourselves using the images below.

Babel
(Paramount, USA, AVC, 25.8 GB)

DVD review: 101 Dalmatians: Platinum Edition

One Hundred and One Dalmatians marks one of the few occasions on which I read the book (a childhood favourite that I still revisit every few years) before seeing the Disney film. Consequentially, perhaps, when I finally did see Disney's interpretation, it was something of a letdown, maintaining the plot of its source material but transposing a number of its most cherished moments. It's still a cracking film, though, endlessly rewatchable and constituting a welcome change of pace from Disney’s previous string of folktales and fairy stories.

Better late than never, I've reviewed Disney's Region 1 Platinum Edition release of 101 Dalmatians, a feature-packed 2-disc presentation of one of the studio's most enduring films.

You must see Wall-E!

After 13 years of producing hit after hit, I've learned to trust Pixar to deliver gold. To date, they haven't made a single bad film (not even Cars, which for some reason seemed to attract a comparatively heavy amount of criticism from certain circles), and I think it's safe to say that whatever magic formula they have tucked away over in Emeryville works.

I still wasn't expecting their latest film, Wall-E, to be as good as it is, though. For me, it's the best film I've seen this year... which, admittedly, isn't a particularly high accolade when you consider that the only other 2008 release I've seen so far is Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull (not counting films made earlier but released in the UK in 2008 like All the Boys Love Mandy Lane and The Orphanage). However, I'd go so far as to say that this is the best film I've seen since The Incredibles in 2004: the last film to which I awarded the coveted "10/10" rating.

In comparison with warmer fare like last year's Ratatouille, Wall-E is a rather sombre affair, something it shares with director Andrew Stanton's previous film, Finding Nemo. The subject matter is unusually grim for Pixar: in the distant future, humankind has ruined Earth, turning it into a smouldering wreck of garbage and pollution. No long inhabitable, the luckier humans boarded a giant spacecraft and took off into the ether to wait until the clean-up of the planet has been completed and it is once more inhabitable. Alas, as time has passed, it has become increasingly clear that it will never be cleaned up, and the humans aboard the spacecraft, who, several generations down the line, have evolved into overweight, tiny-boned, borderline retarded bags of flesh, have all but forgotten about Earth. The only form of life that now remains on earth is a robot named Wall-E, tasked with cleaning up the planet - a monotonous task of collecting and compacting garbage which he has been performing non-stop for centuries, and centuries, and centuries.

I think a film like Wall-E is the perfect example of what makes Pixar's output so different from, and so much better than, that of their competitor, DreamWorks. Whereas DreamWorks' animated features are usually based around a one-note joke (Bee Movie, anyone?) or the latest celebrity actor they've snared to do a voice over (look - a talking fish who looks and sounds exactly like Will Smith!), or an endless cavalcade of sub-Family Guy pop culture references, boogers and farts (the Shrek franchise), Pixar builds their films around solid characterisation, with the rest flowing naturally. The last thing Wall-E is about is famous voices; actually, for a good two-thirds of the film, there is no dialogue whatsoever. Given that Wall-E can only make a few primitive speech sounds (which are provided by veteran sound designer Ben Burtt), and his only interactions are with a silent cricket and a fellow robot, EVE, whose vocal range is even more limited than his, his emotions have to be conveyed entirely through pantomime and the expressions made by his eyes.

There's a lot of talk of Wall-E being 2008's first contender for Best Picture as next year's Oscars. That's right, Best Picture, not Best Animated Feature. If an animated film can actually win the most prestigious of the Academy Awards, then perhaps it will finally break the long-held stigma against the medium.

See it!

DVD review: The Frightened Woman

Not quite trash and not quite art, The Frightened Woman represents Italian popular cinema at its most trippy. It's just about as batty as they come, and I defy you to find another film that looks and feels anything like it. Beneath all that surface glitz, however, is a surprisingly deep construct, one that is likely to beguile and bemuse in equal measure.

We've got yet more toothed vaginas in my review of the deliciously weird The Frightened Woman, a unique offering of 60s sexploitation from Shameless Screen Entertainment.

DVD review: Teeth

Teeth is ultimately a highly promising debut feature that’s unique enough for me to recommend it on that basis alone. It has considerably more going for it than merely being different, however, most notably an excellent lead performance from an extremely promising actress and a quirky, infectious sense of humour. It’s not entirely satisfying, and it’s not quite as brave as its provocative premise might suggest, but it’s entertaining, engaging, and even strangely endearing. Be prepared to cross your legs, though.

Cross your legs and lock up your sons - Dawn is on the prowl! I kick off a delightful "vagina dentata" double bill with a review of Dimension Extreme's Region 1 release of Teeth, which proves the old adage that sex is indeed a weapon...

No innuendos about electric toothbrushes, please

Yesterday heralded the arrival of a much-awaited review copy, the delightful Teeth, a film about a young lady who has a set of razor-sharp fangs inside her vagina, and the hilarity that ensues as she has various, ahem, prickly encounters with the opposite sex.

If you've heard this story before, then you've probably encountered a form of the vagina dentata myth, which we might describe as a product of the male of the species' enduring suspicion and/or fear of women. You might also have heard of a no-budget British shocker called Penetration Angst, reviewed here by the indomitable Baron Scarpia. Penetration Angst is, I'm reliably informed, absolutely dreadful, which is why, when I first read Teeth's synopsis, I was surprised, to say the least, to discover that both films shared almost exactly the same premise. The notion of a toothed vagina is, of course, nothing new, but the precise details of the two films' plots makes it hard for me to believe that mere coincidence is at play here.

I've been saying for ages that, instead of remaking good films, studios would be better off remaking bad ones, and it sounds as if Penetration Angst is as bad as they come. Teeth, I'm sure, is considerably better, but I still haven't decided quite how I feel about it. Like Penetration Angst, it falls into the trap of making all the men that our intrepid heroine comes into contact with end up being filthy slimy perverts (to quote Tenebrae). It's frustrating because of its predictability, and also because it allows the writer/director, Mitchell Lichtenstein, to dodge any potentially difficult questions - like why are we rooting for a serial killer/mutilator? The way the film is set up, everyone who loses their wang (or, in one case, fingers) basically "deserves" it (yep, even the gynaecologist to whom she rather astutely pays a visit when she realises something isn't quite right downstairs), and the majority of the sexual encounters are forced on her (the only one that isn't is someone she actively seeks to entrap).

The acting in Penetration Angst is described as being uniformly awful (which is probably appropriate enough given the apparent quality of the rest of the film). This isn't a problem with Teeth, whose lead, Jess Weixler, is actually very very good. She has the rather unenviable task of playing a character whose head is firmly up in the clouds (she is a blissfully ignorant Christianity enthusiast who gives talks to impressionable teenagers about "waiting" - c.f. the Silver Ring Thing), and the film, not unreasonably, treats her attitudes without a great deal of respect. Somehow, though, she doesn't lose our sympathy, at least until the final third of the film, in which a rather predictable tonal shift occurs and it becomes considerably harder to root for her. Actually, it's a rather well-made film all round, more so when you realise that it's the director's first feature. I think this raises the bar in terms of quality and prevents it from simply being moronic dross. That, and the fact that a very interesting balance of horror and sly comedy is maintained throughout.

Expect a full review in the near future, once I've had a chance to mull it over.