Film review - The World's End

"We're here," announces erstwhile protagonist Gary King, "to get annihilated."

Indeed.

The World's End is the finale to Edgar Wright and Simon Pegg's Cornetto trilogy, three films connected by themes and motifs rather than plot and characters - a riff of sorts on the Three Colours Trilogy. In it we once again see Pegg and Frost placed in a new genre mash-up: this time, we're somewhere between a sci-fi and The Hangover bro-comedy of recent years.

Gary King is getting old - not that he seems to know it. He's out to convince his four childhood friends to come back to their childhood home and finish a pub crawl that they had attempted when they were younger. There's something irresistibly British about the whole trilogy, and the omnipresence of pubs in all three narratives is perhaps the most British thing about it. It's a cultural twist on The Hangover - the pub crawl. Whilst trawling round the pubs, the once-upon-a-time highschool friends (now middle-aged) discover that all is not as it once was back home.

As is increasingly the case with director Edgar Wright's films, there's a lot buried within the comedy here. Laughs and joke are hidden within each shot, and rarely is a word uttered which eschews comedic intentions, but when you look at film beyond it's comedic wrapping the film is actually an alien invasion movie. More so than either Hot Fuzz of Shaun of the Dead, really, The World's End needs to be enjoyed as the genre movie it is, rather than an outright comedy. It's funny, but the comedy feels like it serves the greater story, whereas in Hot Fuzz the opposite was true.

That's highly arguable of course - again, increasingly in Wright's films, everything is interlocked. The story is wrapped up tightly in the plot and characters and themes and laughs. The central concept works both as an absurd punchline and a genuinely interesting reflection of humanity's relationship with technology. That's the more subtle of the two central themes - as a sci-fi film, The World's End continues sci-fi's tradition of asking questions.

The more obvious theme is the one which is more personally important to Gary King - growing up and nostalgia. King's not so much going through a coming of age than attempting to go backwards through that process - trying to recapture a youth he's never properly left behind.

Most people's main problem with the film is likely to be the ending; much like Hot Fuzz, the entire film builds to a big shift in plot and tone that functions as a punchline. Unlike Hot Fuzz, however, the movie isn't all that great at communicating that this is meant to be a punchline - partly because the core of the film is so serious and partly because the tone shift is just a bit confusing. Personally I liked it, but it is also fair to say that it really could have been done better.

Otherwise The World's End is a thoughtful, funny, complex and at times genuinely emotional film full of secrets and imagination. Well worth a look.

Things I want to like - RWBY, Pt. 1

(Thar be spoilers ahead)

You remember way back when, those halcyon days of 2013? During that sun-shy Scottish summer the twin shadows of Doctor Who series 7 and Bioshock Infinite loomed over all. These were the two things I talked most excitedly to friends about, these were the two things I sought out information about first and foremost. They would be, I was convinced, the two big highlights of the rest of the year.

Expectations

And then a friend linked me this:

The animation! The music! Those fluid fight scenes! That atmosphere, and the subtle sense of character!

I caught the final of four trailers, all advertising the (at the time) soon-to-be-released anime style web series RWBY helmed by Monty Oum of Dead Fantasy fame. The fantastically animated trailers showed four female protagonists, battling all sort of enemies – from werewolves, to robots, to a haunted suit of armour and (most horrifying of all) twins. Each was like a music video, heavily stylised and communicating character and plot with barely a word spoken.

It was that last point that really hooked me in, as cool and exciting as the fight scenes were: this was storytelling through style and action. This was both epic and subtle at the same time. It’s on these grounds the series was sold to me.

There was one note of caution, amongst the awesome. Trailer four, “Yellow”, has a fair chunk of dialogue in it. Not only was the voice acting questionable, but much of the dialogue was less than encouraging. The silliness of the dialogue seemed ill-judged and comedic notes were missed with aplomb. They embraced a cheesiness that seemed out of place, and all the subtlety was trampled to the ground. Still, it was just the trailers, they had time to refine and improve both dialogue and voice acting, right?

(For the record, since I’m not going to talk about it later, I actually overall like the voice acting in RWBY. There are a few performances that I haven’t really been sold on, but that’s likely to happen with any series.)

Ruby and Torchwick and Hunters

Because the trailers got by through nods and winks, we had little in the way of real clues as to what the series would be about. That meant that episode one would be our first cohesive look at the main plot and world.

Episode one sees us interrupting a burglary – our villain, Torchwick, and his henchmen raiding a shop containing magical powder. The robbery is interrupted, however by Ruby, who proceeds to single-handedly defeat the villain and all of his henchmen. He flees into an airship, and turns it’s weapons upon Ruby – Ruby, however, is saved by a Huntress named Glynda. After Torchwick flees in his airship, aided by a mysterious woman himself, Ruby is persuaded to join the school Beacon Academy and become a Huntress herself.

In my eyes there are three big crimes that episode one commits:

1.       Ruby starts out awesome. She’s already got her massive scythe/rifle, is already good enough to beat the first primary antagonist and his henchmen. Compelling character arcs start out with characters who are flawed and have the characters grow as they overcome said flaw. Ruby’s goal is to become a Huntress, but because she immediately wins against the villain and the gap between her and Glynda isn’t meaningfully established it feels like she’s already ready to accomplish that goal. Compare it to the observations Campbell makes about the monomyth, about how it mostly revolves around people facing powers way greater than their own – in comparison, it seems like Ruby is facing powers slightly greater than her own at best. The barrier to success is way too low.

o   Later on, in episode 3, Ruby reveals she has made her own weapon. So why is the series starting after this has happened? Ruby would be far more compelling a character, and her growth would be far better, if it was twinned with the making of the scythe rifle thingie. Showing us the making of the weapon would also be a good way of addressing point 3 too.

o   During her conflict with Weiss, the writers set-up Weiss’s legitimate problem with Ruby as having an impetuous streak – a trait which never holds proper weight because it isn’t really established outside of that particular mini-arc. As such it just seems like an idiosyncrasy in their dynamic, rather than a fully realised character trait.

o   In episode 13, the turning point of Jaune’s own particularly character arc is when Ruby gives him a bit of a pep talk. In this talk she shows a great amount of maturity, charisma and understanding. None of it feels particularly earned either – if anything, it lends her a bit of a broken feel as a character.

So she’s great at fighting, has made her own weapon, is wise and a great leader. Part of why we like characters is watching them overcome barriers, struggle past the things that stand in the way between them and their goal. What barriers does she have to overcome? What are her weaknesses? If she has any, the show isn’t interested in establishing them.

2.       Torchwick isn’t a threatening presence. His design might be all Clockwork Orange-y, but it’s still goofy – this wouldn’t be a problem if he was shown to be a real genuine threat. That’s true as well of his sort of convivial nature; sure, he’s arrogant, but not particularly villainous. These two things, however, become real problems when combined with the fact that he is never established as a genuine threat. First time we see him, Ruby beats his henchmen then he runs away. This is the first real lesson we learn about our villain: he’s already not a match for our protagonist. As such his status as a primary antagonist removes any overarching sense of threat from proceedings. He’s a placeholder for better villains later on.

3.       The world is too ill-defined for us to get a real sense of what any of it means. We’re told that Hunters and Huntresses are a big deal by Ruby, but we never see it. How common are they? Can any old mook become a Hunter? If not, why is there a specialised Dust shops just sitting in a town high street? Is the ability to fight the Grimm still such a big deal in society? The world feels thin and insubstantial, and we never get a good feel for the society of RWBY. As such it immediately loses most of its mystique, and when Ruby geeks out at the Huntress showing up we don’t geek out with her because of this. Lots and lots of tell, little in the way of show.

Novel Review - Dr Who: Ten Little Aliens

This isn't, exactly, a Dr Who book.

Meet Haunt, Shade and co. Space marines. The book starts very much as a military space opera, as we follow ten soldiers on a training mission to a hollowed out moon. Soon their paths cross with the first Doctor and his two companions, Polly and Ben, who have also somehow found their onto the space rock. What follows is deeply routed in the personalities and history and the society they come from.

Not to say that the Doctor and his companions are unjustified additions here. In fact, Cole hands the two companions their regular role in adventures - proving (comparatively) more familiar eyes through which to view the adventure. There's plenty interesting going on with the first too, as his inevitable regeneration trudges closer. It's all very cleverly done, but not particularly natural.

The good news, however, is this is really the only major flaw in the story; and in a story that tries to do so many things, this is perhaps little less than miraculous.

It's a meticulously constructed - having not read And Then There Was None I'm not able to comment on it's similarity to it - novel in all respects. Cole takes his time to build up the setting into an atmospheric and evocative, letting us get to know the characters whilst cranking up the atmosphere. Plot and characterisation happens in a very careful and deliberate fashion, information drip fed to us.

It's a real genre buster this one: a military sci-fi story that dips it's toes quickly into other ponds. There is the obvious Alien similarities, and the story is a slowly unfolding mystery. Traces of haunted house can be detected under everything, and some of the concepts that happen later belong more to cyberpunk than anything else. It's a big and extremely careful constructed thing that at times becomes a little too much for it's own good. That's even before you consider the "choose your own adventure" section of the book.

When such a tantalizing mystery is set-up, the author always leaves themselves with the a potential problem: can the answer to the mystery match the mystery itself? In this case, luckily, the answer is a resounding yes. The plot threads come together gratifyingly well, and Cole is dab hand when it come to misdirection.

Ten Little Aliens has plenty of flaws, there's no doubt. But it's an imaginative, creative and complex story with a tight plot and some great characterisation. Cole's prose is well paced and atmospheric, and the narrative voice remains consistent whilst varying enough to give a good feel of each differing character. Ten Little Aliens may do some wrong, but it does far, far more right.

Audio Drama Review - Dr Who: Scherzo

The Beatles once sang: All you need is love. The Doctor, in Scherzo, is very quick to disagree with this conclusion.

Meet the 8th Doctor, Paul McGann, and his audio-only companion Charley. They've had a pretty rough time as of late and there's a lot of raw emotion hanging in the air between. Self-sacrificing and declarations of love have been strewn over the past few adventures, and now they find themselves stranded together in an unknown and scary new universe.

The Doctor, of course, seems to be finding this whole emotional thing a bit difficult. Since Colin Baker's Doctor, really, the Time Lord has been through a zigzagging a rather odd emotional path. Ostensensibly, the path Big Finish appear to be taking with the 8th looks to be laying the groundwork for the angsty and scarred 9th, and in this audio drama he edges uncomfortably close to outright dislikeable. There's something terrifying about the performance, and the way he treats his companion, pushing and pulling her mentally and emotionally. At times he even seems to get a vindictive sense of pleasure from this.

Between the writing, directing and sound engineering this story is a marvel. For a location that isn't really a location, the setting itself is endowed with so much character and atmosphere. It really seems to reflection the purgatorial fear and pain that the characters are going through, and a creepy array of sounds paints a full picture, paradoxically, of this empty place.

This is a psychological horror and a bottle episode, and when it comes to intensity and fear this story makes Midnight look rather tame. The sense of loss and pain amplifies the terrifying location and psychological horror that the two are confronted with; the "monster of the week" is ambiguous and strange enough to worm it's way into your mind.

Despite the emotionally intensive nature of the story, it is a low-key affair. Little happens, apart from a difficult conversation between the Doctor and Charley, whilst they go for a walk. To turn that into an intense, horrifying, original and extremely emotional experience is a testament to the skills of those involved.

I've not been idle

Although I've been rather quieter than I'd like to have been.

Hopefully I'll soon get back my writing verve, but until then hop over to Pulpline, where I've started serialising a story.

Life of Pi - Film Review

'There's an Indian man in French-Canada who has a story that will make you believe in God.' Our surrogate character, a Canadian author in French-India is told, whilst researching his newest book. We meet him as he meets the titular character, Pi Patel, and the movie that plays out is a visual illustration of their conversation.

Life of Pi is an adaptation of Yann Martel's multiple award winning, critically acclaimed bestseller. It follows the strange journey Pi takes when he and his family are immigrating to Canada, and tragedy strikes. He finds himself stuck on a dinghy with a Bengal Tiger, floating alone in the sea.

It's a well documented facts that animals make rubbish actors, and as such most of this film takes place in a wonderous world of CGI. The exotic and incredible locations created in the film also demand a certain level of computer jiggery-pokery. Admittedly, mostly it does hold up as wonderous - there are breathtaking sequences and striking images abound in Life of Pi. Nonetheless, the extent of CGI used here does become a weakness at times, not always look particularly believable. A problem that is all the more frustrating for the fact there was no real way around it.

The story here is quite unlike anything else, and a real triumph in simplicity. It starts out slow, telling us little stories, all more suited to fairy tales than real life. Of Pi's uncle, and a pool in France. Of how he came to be known as Pi. The scene is being set, as is the tone: this is a real world in which things happen as they do in stories. The main event itself is always bright and always hopefully and (CGI allowing) always beautiful, but behind it lurks a darkness. For some, that darkness may sour the experience.

There's a lot going on here - it's not a simple story, but it is told very simply. Herein is where the film really excels, it realises that it should not be trying to show off how complex it is, but rather concealing it and letting the audience themselves explore its depths.

The acting is a triumph throughout. Both actors who play Pi - but especially in his younger form - are fantastic and captivating. The Canadian author, too, pitches the role well, being blank enough to be a conduit for our own reactions to the story whilst still retaining a sense of personality.

Life of Pi isn't really like anything else, and for that reason alone it deserves a watch. That it also happens to be very well made, very well told and filled with awe certainly doesn't hurt. Highly recommended.

Doctor Who - The Snowmen

Twenty five minutes in, and I've already written it off. There were nice set pieces, nice scenes, the odd laugh - sure - but nothing was coming together. The Doctor was introduced into the episode in thoroughly unconvincing fashion, the enemy was kinda just weird and unclear and too many leaps of logic were happening too quickly. The Snowmen was well on it's way to becoming another "could have been" episodes of Dr Who - a potentially good story executed badly.

Not that it was bad, so much as it wasn't all that convincing or engaging when not following the footsteps of new companion Clara. Confusingly enough, this isn't Jenna Louise-Coleman's debut on Dr Who. That came at the start of the series, in the fantastic Asylum of the Daleks, where she played Oswin Oswald. She's playing an eerily similar role here, and when she becomes the focal point of the narrative the episode improves for it.

The plot sees Clara trying to persuade the retired Doctor to return to action, in order to take down evil snowmen that seem to be popping up all over Victorian London. Madam Vastra, Jenny and Strax are the gatekeepers, of sorts, although they too are trying to get The Doctor into the game. Aside from excellent scene, Madam Vastra is rather under utilised and Jenny is basically there, but little else. Only Strax gets a good showing, and his comic relief, although rather predictable, brings a very effective lightness to an episode lacking Smith's normal witty interplay between himself, Amy, Rory and sporadically River.

When things start to come together, however, things cascade into motion. The before ill-defined theme of dreams (and nightmares) come to the fore and ties what has come before surprisingly well. The rather shapeless, stammering plot gains cohesion and Moffat's ability to subvert and misdirect the audience's expectations brings tension where there really shouldn't be tension.

After only two episodes of them motor-mouthing off against each other, it's hard to deny that Coleman and Smith have an irresistible chemistry, if at times nigh unintelligible. If this were a rap battle, they'd both be getting told to slow down. When they really start squaring wits against each other the episode spikes dramatically upwards in enjoyability, and never stops rising.

At the halfway mark, I'd given up on the episode actually being good. By the end, I'd been blown away. The fairest judgement would be somewhere between the two, but I'd be inclined more towards the latter. The Snowman, is an unusual and ambitious fairy tale much in keeping of Smith's Doctor, but unlike the past two there are shockwaves to be felt in the main series itself. This is another new beginning of sorts, and great things are promised.

Roll on Series 7(2)!