Life Stories - OR - Alien Kermit Baby

The thing with the Internet is that it’s big. Really big. It doesn’t actually, tangibly exist and can therefore expand indefinitely into nothingness, much like the Universe itself. Because that makes sense. Because science.

The Internet. It definitely makes sense.

And because it’s so big there’s a lot of stuff. And because there’s a lot of stuff nothing is particularly original or – usually – interesting. These are lessons that I’ve learnt since magic-ing up my own previously ethereal slice of wi-fi pie. But you must have an identity and a brand. All of the other websites whose identities and brands are to tell you you need an identity and a brand say so. And so, because I’m a lifelong techie nerd whose primary passions are also conjurations of previous unreality, I’ve taken a solemn oath on my slight and rasping self-respect to focus content on that oh so omnipotent socially excluding duo: films and videogames.

I’ve made a token gesture to such an enterprise in the past, by which I mean a few sporadic reviews of films I’ve seen over the last year. That’s right, it was over a year ago that I started this blog and despite the fact that I’ve not given it anywhere near the attention I should have (less than 10 posts…oops) it’s been surprisingly successful. Consequently, the times they are a’ changing. From now, I will no longer be Mr. Mclazyanddontupdate.

So the long and short of it is that I will summarize my year so far in two pictures. So I can, y'know, focus on that brand thing.

Me meeting my old friend Kermit while studying in Connecticut for 4 months earlier this year. Helluva guy. Massive drug problem though.

Staring into the Turkish sunset pondering the wonders and intricacies of the Universe. There's roughly a billion photos  of my five weeks in Bird-Land but this best represents the depth, complexity and darkness of the human soul.

So that was a long-winded way of saying nothing in particular…yet another prevailing theme of our favourite intellectual dumping ground. So no testicle directed falcon-punches I’m sorry, or pictures of that epic battle with Mr. K. Kong (definitely happened, censored in the news). 

But seeing as we’re not really talking about anything here, and that this post is supposed to represent some sort of change the reverberations of which will no doubt be apocalyptic, let’s have a little story-time.

Any film/videogame fan anywhere at any point in history ever will say that films/games have been a part of their life for as long as they can remember. Well…

My Dad was a videogames graphics artist when I was but a wee smidge of a human many moons ago, so videogames have quite literally been a part of life since I was first wrenched all fresh, jammy and screaming into the world, going so far as actively keeping me alive what with it being his job thingy. And there was no turning back from there. He had all the classics – NES, SNES, Master System and all that lovely stuff – so by the time the N64 rolled around in 1997 I was a thoroughbred Nintendo fan and proceeded to spend the majority of the rest of my life playing Mario 64 and Goldeneye. So, at the cost of my childhood and social development, when I say that videogames have always been a part of my life I mean it.

And you know what, I’m proud of that fact. While others were out ‘playing’ with fellow humans I was struggling to save Hyrule from the forces of darkness, classmates would go out climbing trees and exploring nature and all the wonderment therein whilst I was saving Princess Peach for the umpteenth time. While I understand that spending the majority of your developing years absorbed in fictional worlds isn’t particularly ‘healthy’, I still owe who I am today to these formative experiences. I learned right from wrong, became a hero alongside Link and all those spikey-haired Final Fantasy weirdos, learned time keeping and organisation (some of those boss fights were real ball aches) alongside much much more. And furthermore, at the end of the day, I still knew that none of this was real and didn’t become a mass-murdering psychopath trying to recreate what I saw on Grand Theft Auto one day. Because that’s just really really stupid so shut-up Daily Mail, shut-up your silly little bigoted mouth. Idiots.

‘But,’ I hear you cry in panic and disbelief, ‘you’ve not mentioned games on this site before you silly noodle!’ And that’s true but if you’d been listening (reading?) I will be in the future for God’s sake. Some people, honestly.

Films are not such a direct path. Everyone watches films, enjoys them and talks about them. So much so that to call yourself a film-buff is practically counter-productive. Simply put, unless you have some sort of professional position – reviewer, previewer etc – you just sound like a knob. So what in the name of Wumbo is a ‘buff’? Well it’s a ridiculous word for one. But more than that I think it’s a more polite term for obsessive. While I realize that isn’t going to be a popular notion, a film buff (or, because I ate the word, a film ‘ninja’) or a ninja of anything else for that matter, is simply obsessively attached to something. 

Like every other person who lives in a house these days, I’ve always watched films. My attachment with them began with Jurassic Park because dinosaurs were, and always will be forever and ever amen, ridiculously cool. From there I got into sci-fi with Star Wars (obviously, gamer here) which eventually led to an all-encompassing geeky love of the Alienseries and other beasts of its ilk: creepy, gory, tense and generally a bit grim. 

So why do I consider myself a film-ninja? For one, I’m a knob. But for another I got so drawn into Alien and its universe that I critically watched the series – repeatedly – wrote coursework on it, wrote fanscripts, wrote poems. Okay, not poems. But you get the point. My experience from watching Alien (and especially Aliens, my favourite, long live Jim Cameron) made me realize that, in an ideal magic world where dreams come true and everything is bright and rosy, I want to live my life among films. And because by then Hell will have long since frozen over, I could make Alien on Ice. Want more proof? I write reviews on the Internet for no reason other than I want to.

Now wasn’t that nice? Do you not feel closer to this obscure voice on the Internet? Good. I don’t mean to preach, only to illustrate that what I intend to write about I know about. And more importantly I’m passionate about. There’s far too much ego in the creative industries these days, both with films and  - increasingly – games too. And this makes me sad. I’ve been labeled a nerd my entire life and I most definitely am. So for you splendid people out there who read this, I just want you to know where I’m coming from. I don’t write what I write because I think it’s cool or think that people want to read it. I write what I write because I’m a great big, honking nerd. Live long and prosper.

The most inspirational video you're ever likely to see. With enough belief and effort, you too will get the flip-flop of life my friends:

As a final note, please follow me on Twitter: @smariman. You'll get told of updates and new posts as soon as they happen as well as the odd desperate attempt at being funny, entertaining and likeable. Such is life.

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A Catch-up - OR - Double Batman Memory Slap

These are odd times. In a bout of the brutally ironic – or for the ego’s sake the poetic – one of only two posts my mewling malnourished mind has managed to conjure this year has been taken down. Now this isn’t because of the inter-governmental file snooping I’m partial to indulge in before promptly fleeing to some obscure Central American nubbin on the face of the world…in London. You idiot. No, it’s merely because I’m such an in-demand, talented and downright fabulous jurnalizt.

So anyway, my little review is all grown up and has moved on to greener, more likeable and far more respectable pastures *sniff*. Check it out on Impact’s (The University of Nottingham’s official magazine) website:

http://www.impactnottingham.com/2012/08/review-the-dark-knight-rises/

But wait, there’s more! Not only do you get one slightly obsolete review of questionable quality you get 2, and this one is a whole 7 years out-of-date! You lucky dickens’. Check out the re-review (because that’s a thing) of Batman Begins:

http://www.impactnottingham.com/2012/09/review-batman-begins/

And now to that long overdue apology…

Sheepish grin. D'yagetit?

I joked on the first post of this year (of 2…oops) out that I’d most likely not re-post until I returned from my American crusade in May, guffawing heartily at how lazy one must be to not write 500 squirming words from time to time while a prisoner of the land of the free. It’s September now. I know myself too well clearly and so in the spirit of triumphant returns – as this post shall eagerly snoot about – let’s open proceedings with a spot of useless rumination.

Isn’t it odd how ‘knowing one’s self’ is culturally seen as a bad thing? Case Study: Someone – an old friend or relative - puts his or her car keys in the fridge. You look at them, a mixture of wonderment and worry, curious as to their odd behavior yet concerned; maybe Auntie Mable is finally losing it? They see your contorted face, a battle between human ignorance and good old British manners, a hereditary passiveness that demands the acceptance of idiosyncratic quirks; God forbid we should actually have to talk to someone. Turning to you they smile, sad little crinkles forming beneath their eyes: ‘I’ll only forget them, so I put them on top of me morning grapefruit,’ they say through a forlorn sigh, ‘I know myself too well see.’

This is silly. In what backwards land can knowing yourself be anything but a good thing, a veritable indication of basic sanity. Can you imagine a world where people didn’t know themselves? Every conversation would be like dancing with the Riddler: ‘What’s your name?’, ‘What is my name?’, ’Do you like beans?’, ’Do I like beans?’ And so on ad infinitum. In fact, I don’t think it’s an exaggeration to say the world would debase to a dystopian ooze, masses of confused fools fighting equally condemned souls, vestibules of confusion and fear as they question who they are and what everything means, too ignorant to listen both to themselves and to each other, wrapped up in warfare the birth of which no one can remember. Oh…wait.

It seems, dear readers, that I’ve stumbled across the defining flaw of humanity. Train based daydreaming, it appears, is the nurturing womb for a good old-fashioned Nobel Peace Prize. Unless you happen to be the first black president of some Western power somewhere. Oo satire, it’s all kicking off today!

Now wasn’t that fun? Don’t you feel mentally nourished? All warm and comfy and safe like a hug from your mother or a bed of freshly made, fluffy, light buttermilk pancakes. Good. You deserve it. You’re all wonderful.

True to form I’ve accomplished nothing that I originally intended to do. C’est la vie. This was supposed to be breakneck, whistle-stop, rollercoaster blast through the thunderous highs and lows of my American Adventure. A regaling of my trips to the Big Apple and D.C., my duet with Elvis, wrestling with King Kong, finding Amelia Earhart, blowing the lid on Roswell and many other things that almost definitely happened. But you can wait a week right? Because I have a plan. A pledge to you mysterious few who keep on reading this erroneous mole on the derriere of the Internet. Hence forth, and for as long as I remember, I will be posting weekly succinct updates to distract you from the more important things in life. This week was warm piece of apple pie from the brain; next week will be a falcon punch to the nads.

Have a laugh with something that's probably psychologically enlightening:

As a final note, please follow me on Twitter: @smariman. You'll get told of updates and new posts as soon as they happen as well as the odd desperate attempt at being funny, entertaining and likeable. Such is life.

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The Dark Knight Rises Review - OR - Next Time We'll Blow Up the Sun

UPDATE     UPDATE     UPDATE     UPDATE     UPDATE

Because I am such an in demand and uniquely talented jurnalizt this review has been requested by Impact, The University of Nottingham's official magazine to which I am a humble patron. There'll be a more robust explanation/ follow-up spectacular soon but for now make sure you have your 5-a-day and check out the review here:

http://www.impactnottingham.com/2012/08/review-the-dark-knight-rises/

Stay wonderful out there.

But still, check out the gravelly trailer:

As a final note, please follow me on Twitter: @smariman. You'll get told of updates and new posts as soon as they happen as well as the odd desperate attempt at being funny, entertaining and likeable. Such is life.

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Celebrating 2011 – OR – It’s Been a While and I want to Try and Keep Up Readership

I think the basic fact that this post – a NEW YEARS post – is nearly 2 weeks late says a great deal about my dedication and punctuation to my own enterprises. It all started quite well, but that was because it was the summer and I was a bored angry man with nothing better to do than vent to the Internet. And go to the cinema. But then term started back up and my life got bitch-slapped by essays and coursework and rent and work and essays and robberies and people and essays and money and applications and essays.

…

And essays. Essssaaaayyyysssssss.

So you must be wondering – as I know you all do, inquisitive little buggers. Not that you can help it of course, I am as uniquely interesting as time travel itself; both impossible and awesome – why I’m reviving this poor dead carcass of a blog? Well, you see, I’ve noticed that despite the complete exodus of activity - a silence of such titanic proportions it can be measured solely in Biblical miracles – all you lovely tender humans out there have still been reading it. Or one of you has at least, in which case thanks for the support but…it’s not going to work out, I’m kind of in a ‘me’ place right now.

And this warmed my heart. Genuinely. I felt like the Grinch at the end of The Grinch on a cocktail of valium and distilled merry-Elf juice. So, with my defibrillator keyboard at my fingertips, I swore to myself to zap new life into the old girl in a New Years resolution that WILL DEFINITELY NOT DIE A SAD LACKLUSTRE DEATH. Until I go to America. On Sunday.

You stay classy, Internet.

Introducing:

The Laziest Thing a Website/Blog Contributor Can Do:

My Top 10’s of the Year

Top 10 Films:

These are not necessarily the best films of the year, more like the one’s that stuck with me for whatever reason, be they monstrously dire or just plain weird. Oh, and these are the films that I HAVE ACTUALLY SEEN. Not a list of films which SHOULD be listed because we’re told that they’re good by pretentious, beret-wearing, sunglasses bearing, tea-sipping, fart smelling ‘critics’ and I’m desperately trying to validate myself as part of their elite, self-congratulating echelon with impeccable taste. Speaking of which:

10 – Sharktopus: Get this right, it’s a SHARK with TENTACLES that WALKS ON LAND. Majestically awful/stupidly awesome depending on how drunk you are.

9 – Morning Glory: Han Solo gives cooking lessons, if that doesn’t stick with you what will? Title is a winner too, illustrating the ineptitude of American English.

8 – Rise of the Planet of the Apes: A refreshing reminder that blockbusters needn’t be dull, soulless affairs. Thought provoking and exciting.

7 – Hanna: Violent-girl-soldier + Chemical Brothers + Fairytales + the guy who did Atonement = memorable. Strange, but not as strange as:

6 – Rango: Just really really weirdly weird….weird. Weird with weird little cat-men and a mustachioed snake and an evil tortoise stereotype. Somehow. Weird.

5 – The Warrior: The superb cast and breathtaking fight scenes make for a film as exciting as it is predictable. As surprising as wood. In a forest.

4 – Black Swan: Probably the creepiest film of the year, putting all those standard, fetid horror farces to shame. Natalie Portman is enchanting.

3 – Arrietty: Simply glorious. Stunningly beautiful artwork championed with a sense of wonder depressingly absent from much of modern cinema.

2 – True Grit: Jeff Bridges will never cease to warm my giblets with those dulcet tones. Beautifully shot, masterful performances and a strange man in a bearskin.

1 – Jurassic Park:…I saw it in the cinema so it counts right? Still face-punchingly awesome. A lot of love for Jeff uh-er-umm…ha-ah Goldblum.

Top 10 Games

Films and games…yep, I’m one of those guys. As with the film list these are games that I have actually played. So, no Skyrim, no Arkham City, no Halo, no Gears, no NOTHING! Fight the machine man; I’m not a part of your system! And I don’t have enough money.

10 – Mass Effect 2: Expert characterization and development yet memorable for being so bloody repetitive. Combat makes a ticking clock seem surprising.

9 – Mario Kart 7: I’m a big ol’ Nintendo nerd so any Mario Kart scores well in my book. More of the same with new characters/courses and fancy new wing things.

8 – Persona 3 Portable: Handheld version of one of the greatest RPGs of all time. Like being able to carry your favourite dinner in your pocket. If you’re in to that.

7 – LittleBig Planet 2: Just insane. Don’t like the levels? Make your own. Don’t like the GAME? Then make your own dumbass! Full of charm and a lot of fun.

6 – L.A. Noire: Phelps may have as much character as a wet salmon but a unique IP garnished with impressive technology and novel gameplay makes good.

5 – Dissidia 012: Final Fantasy fan too…yeah. However, even without the almighty BJ to fans, this is a game nourished on unique and enjoyable mechanics.

4 – LoZ Skwyard Sword: In terms of pure gameplay easily one of the best experiences available. Unfortunately bogged down by as much twee as Disney.

3 – Deus Ex Human Revolutions: Frustrating, frightening, thrilling. It’s like Ghost in the Shell wedded to Satan’s testicles: exhilarating but tough.

2 – Portal 2: Takes Portal and cranks everything up to 11: gameplay, characters, pacing all exceptional. Also Stephen Merchant. Love that guy.

1 – LoZ Ocarina of Time 3D: AGAIN IT COUNTS. Technically new after all. What can I say; the 90s were a happier time. An absolute classic this, simple as.

Top 10 Months

10 – May

9 – February

8 – April

7 – November

6 – October

5 – July

4 – August

3 – March

2 – December

1 – September

January and June can bite me. Exams…just no.

Top 10 States of Being

10 – Hungover

9 – Dead

8 – Existential

7 – Metaphorical

6 – Spiritual

5 – Metrologic

4 – Supernatural

3 – Warm

2 – Alive

1 – Drunk

Top 10 Top 10s

10 – Top 10 Spelunking Hotspots

9 – Top 10 Things to Do With The Bits of Cheese That You Grate Off But Are Too Small to Actually Use in Whatever it is You’re Cooking Because You Can’t Pick Them Up Without Smudging Them Into the Surface Which Is Really Annoying Because It’s Like ‘That’s a Waste of Food and There’s Nothing I Can Do About it Besides Make it Into Mess Which I Then Have to Clean Up When I’ve Finished Cooking, But, You Know How it is, You Just Want to Relax After Cooking Right? You Get all Hot and Stressed and The Meal Never Looks Like it Does On the Instructions and Even Though Everyone Said They Liked it You Know They’re Just Trying to Save Your Feelings Which, Yeah, Is Nice But I’d Rather They Be Honest With Me Even Though Deep Down I Know I’m Too Sensitive to Deal With Criticism.’

8 – Top 10 Ways of Eating a Malteser

7 – Top 10 Single Digit Numbers

6 – Top 10 Top 10 Top 10s

5 – Top 10 Ways of Concealing an Erection

4 – Top 10 Noises That Are Culturally Frowned Upon

3 – Top 10 Tuts

2 – Top 10 Things to do With Your Feet That You Normally Do With Your Hands

1 – Top 10 Worst Things You Can be Implicated in While Holding a Blunt Instrument

Top 10 Colour Pencils

10 – White: because, I mean, just…why? What’s the point? Wonderfully useless.

9 – Yellow: because it’s like the sun maaaaaaaaaaan.

8 – Puce: because funny.

7 – Needlessly big graphite pencils shaped like sticks or something.

6 – Black: BECAUSE I CAN PUT IT ON MY EYES AND BE ALL SERIOUS AND MISUNDERSTOOD AND STUFF.

5 – Pink: because how else would we judge if other colours are gay or not?

4 – Brown: because <insert inappropriate joke here> (I was going to do it myself but…it wasn’t worth slaying what little readership I apparently have.)

3 – Gainsboro: because it’s a thing apparently.

2 – Blue: not quite as cool as…

1 – Green: because – well - c’mon, it’s green.

And that, you’ll be pleased to hear, is that! Hope you enjoyed what was no doubt an epic waste of time. Merry procrastination to you all!

To continue our brave and heroic march into the land of lazing please feel free to add your own top 10 - or populate one of those above, or all of them, SCREW IT GO NUTS - in the comments of this page or on facebook. Or, y’know, go and do your coursework or revise or generally work towards your futures.

Until next time (which will most likely be May) caru ti ac diolch yn fawr iawn.

A classic to say goodbye to ol' 2011:

As a final note, please follow me on Twitter: @smariman. You'll get told of updates and new posts as soon as they happen as well as the odd desperate attempt at being funny, entertaining and likeable. Such is life.

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Short Reviews Part 1 – OR – The Easy Way Out…Part 1

It’s been over a month since I last plagued the Internet with opinions no one gives fat-arsed cat about. Its been hard for you - no doubt about that - so sit back, relax and bathe in the delicious textified glow of my sultry voice as it soothes you to a luxurious sleep. Or stupor.

Poorly formed blog of a bored pre-freshers student presents: a series of quick movie reviews.

He's more English than England. In a teacup. Tutting.

Many a film have passed through the external stimuli of my being these last few weeks – some old, some new, some good, some the stench of rancid arse gravy – but they’ve all been absorbed and judged by the old grey matter, clattered about like a dog in a washing machine, before eventually being spewed back out in the form of that most illusive beast: opinion. This thing here marks the start of a new series of blogs (maybe) created purely to plug long gaps where I have nothing else to write about. Long live the Internet.

Pretty Woman (1990)
- OR - Bitch-Slapping the Feminists.

A certified telegram from the 90s; a love-letter to the sort of times where casual sexism and out-and-out blatant stereotypes were the candy necklaces to the common gut. Richard Gere is as straight edged and expressive as the average desk while Julia Roberts injects a bit of fun into a role that would these days no doubt have feminists tearing their collective left breast off in indignation. The plot is rom-com - as daring as folding a piece of paper in the dark - but all in all structures a film that offers light-hearted fun that harms no one.
3/5

Notting Hill (1999)

- OR – Hairdy Hair Hair Hair

Otherwise known as: The Hugh Grant Singularity. As with Pretty Woman, it is a film that pushes as many boundaries as your average ‘Knock-Knock’ joke; like a good carpenter it has strong foundations which do nothing freaky like turn upside down or spontaneously combust. For every way in which Grant is the foppy haired dandy he transforms into at night, the film is kept interesting and paunchy by a stellar supporting cast; Rhys Ifans, while doing nothing to help the image of Welsh people in the media, is moronically hilarious.
3/5

Memento (2000)

- OR – Passionate Brain Sex.

Christopher Nolan enjoys making sweet passionate love to your cranium; he is clearly affectionate and thinking of your pleasure, but the whole time you are vaguely aware of how strange it is to have a penis in your brain. That’s Memento, Christopher Nolan’s figurative penis in your brain. The film is clearly smartly conceived – and not in the holier-than-thou way, more like ‘Gather round the fire children while I spin you a yarn’ – with the whole cast doing an effective job of keeping the film accessible and engaging in spite of the aforementioned brain love. Despite punching itself repeatedly in the face through a waterfall of plot-holes and inconsistencies – an inherent side-affect – the film is immensely enjoyable and keeps you guessing until the very last moment. Also, it is played backwards. Nifty.

4/5

Coraline (2009)

- OR – It is a good children’s film. NUFF’ SAID.

Children’s films are dying an awful, drawn-out, diseased and painful death. Apparently, all children want are poorly animated squeaky beasties barking out contrived one-liners while being taught that GOOD IS GOOD AND BAD IS BAD. Thankfully, Coraline waves this plague a big middle finger and makes an effort to actually be, y’know, good. Much like Nightmare Before Christmas, this is a film as delightfully creepy as it is charming, full of colourful well-developed characters – none of which feel wasted – exciting set-pieces and a tightly woven, well-paced narrative that never feels like its wallowing. All in all an incredible experience so stuffed with charm that it is guaranteed to leave you with a smile on your face and one question in your head: why aren’t more films like this?

5/5

Monsters (2010)

- OR – Big Tentacle Metaphors.

Made by a guy on his laptop for the sort of money congealed in James Cameron’s average turd, Monsters is a small revelation. Following an infestation of alien squid beasts from Hollywood’s old friend the Misunderstood Planet, a quintessential ‘guy n’ girl’ couple must traverse through a quarantined zone of Mexico back to America before the creatures start killing and shagging everything – even aliens have periods ladies and gents! As with any film centred on a couple the performances have to be strong and the leading pair here certainly fulfil their duty. With competence and an easy charm they lead both the relatively simple narrative and the audience on a journey that, while breaking no boundaries either in terms of romance or science fiction, is entertaining and engaging from start to finish.

3/5

Make sure to tune in next time for a series of reviews that are as out-of-date as they are pointless. Much love.

God bless Britain:

As a final note, please follow me on Twitter: @smariman. You'll get told of updates and new posts as soon as they happen as well as the odd desperate attempt at being funny, entertaining and likeable. Such is life.

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Super 8 Review - OR - GO GET ME A GODDAMN ALIEN!

Plot

In the summer of 1979, Jo Lamb (Joel Courtney) and his friends witness an almighty train crash while making a super 8 movie for a contest. When people start to go missing amid increasingly strange occurrences throughout the town, they soon suspect that there was much more to that train than originally met the eye. 

Just out of shot: a dribbling Hell beast.

Review

Every summer, Hollywood does its big-money best to convince us peons that the world is ending, doomed to a vicious death under the wrathful attack of aliens, or robots, or fire, or nature, or anything they bloody well feel like blowing up in our collective slack-jawed faces because WE LIKE TO WATCH THIS. So much so that even the most innocent narrative varieties have now been doused in CGI wartastic explodeyness. Fancy an old-school coming-of-age teenage nostalgia trip? Well un-bloody-lucky, because what’s a film these days without a great big bitey beastie from planet angry in the misunderstood galaxy. Incongruous you say? Nonsense! Now sit back, stop thinking, and look at how bright and shiny everything is.

Excuse the ramblomatic opening there because, all in all, Super 8 is a good film. It is also a bitterly frustrating film, demonstrating a deft understanding of one of cinema’s long-forgotten tropes in one hand – that of the coming-of-age title epitomised by Spielberg’s 1980s dominion – while then shooting itself in the foot with the ‘Modern Cinema’ gun with the other. That this was originally conceived as two separate films is as surprising as night following day.

So lets talk about Spielberg. Super 8 is, a clearly heartfelt, homage to all that Spielberg did for cinema during the 70s and 80s, his influence practically oozing out of its every pore. Thinking back and the likes of E.T. and Close Encounters of the Third Kind ring strong indeed, with families and friends dealing with very real issues on the backdrop of something decidedly a bit ‘bigger’, namely aliens. In many ways Super 8 is a quintessential summer family film; a coming-of-age tale punctuated by teenage kicks, family drama, eyegasm set-pieces and the odd metal-hoarding, train-wrecking, Rubik cube champion creature from another world. Despite the bountiful amount of money that has clearly been thrown at it however, the real charm and appeal of the film lies in its titanium strong ties to other classic yarns such as Stand By Me and its primary focus on a group of rag-tag kids, much like the Spielberg films of yore.

The kids, it has to be said, are outstanding, their infectious rapport providing the heart and soul - the proverbial sun in the solar system - of the film around which everything else revolves. Together they form a delightfully eclectic bunch – arranged like an orchestra: cute-and-heroey, tall-and-scaredy, fat-and-bossy, smart-and-geeky, small-and-pyromaniac…y - hearkening back to a more light-hearted era where the Goonies could run around like caffeine fuelled chimps without a care in the world. Special mention must be paid to Elle Fanning’s Alice – the love interest drafted in to help the boys and their film production – who’s performance is as transfixing for the boys and their film-within-a-film as it is for us as the audience watching the whole picture.

It says a lot really that, as the film turns its emphasis away from the kids to the naughty rampaging sort-of baddy, it takes a very definite decline. That’s not to say that the alien, action and explosions are poor, far from it. In any other run-of-the-mill sci-fi summer fest they’d be perfectly…fine. And its there that the problem lays. Its all just too ordinary, generic even: creature crash-lands, gets captured, experimented on, escapes and then wants to go home. Its been done a thousand times before and it’ll all be done again, which is fine – an awful word that – but in comparison to the sheer charm and entertainment found in the first half coming-of-age tale its just so massively disappointing that it mars the whole experience.

The pacing is well managed up until the final third. The disparate narrative strands, which could have easily fallen apart under less able hands, weave together nicely, combining Jo’s grief over the loss of his mother – and its ramifications for both his and Alice’s family - with the framing device of the film production all the while steadily establishing the town-wide extraterrestrial mystery. Then the tanks role in and scowly men scowl while they blow up houses for no good reason and the whole thing begins to stink of ‘blockbuster’. It’s nothing short of irritating. The relationship between Jo and Alice, wonderfully composed on the backdrop of mutual grief and hardship epitomised by the difficulties of their respective fathers, suddenly ceases to exist, as though the alien suddenly pops up with nothing more than a casual ‘Hi guys, its my turn now’.

In case you can’t tell, the alien is disappointing. It doesn’t even have the good grace to pull a Cloverfield: despite being the veritable Mr. MacGuffin for 90% of the film you end up seeing so much of the thing you could draw its freakish crab face in your sleep. His unveiling ends the tantalising drip-feed of fleeting flashes in petroleum puddles, or rear-view mirrors – which works well, complimenting the film as a whole - and sounds the drum for the descension into typical sci-fi explodeyness. Not to mention calling the drastic cull of the emphasis on the children, instead throwing the whole production into a jarringly sudden warzone. It is also very difficult to feel anything for the alien outside of derision – E.T. this ain’t. Yeah we know you’re away from home, sad and misunderstood, but the whole ‘poor beasty trapped and scared’ dynamic is made almost impossible to follow when the thing spends the entire film munching the faces of innocent human folk.

But hey, at least the film knows how you go about blowing up a train. What is quite possibly the most exaggerated, comically over-the-top explosive set-piece of the summer makes those unruly Transformers lot look like a sports match between Team Snail and Team Sloth; as much action as a morgue.

Verdict

Super 8 is, for all intents and purposes, two different films – one a charming, engrossing coming-of-age adventure, the other yet another piece of manufactured summer Hollywoodness; not exactly bad, just ordinary, the very definition of that wonderfully bland term: ‘fine’. It’s a good package overall, but the frustrating turn of pace makes you wish the alien had, at the very least, the good grace to stay hidden in the bushes.

3/5

Watch the trailer to find out everything the film isn't about:

As a final note, please follow me on Twitter: @smariman. You'll get told of updates and new posts as soon as they happen as well as the odd desperate attempt at being funny, entertaining and likeable. Such is life.

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Arrietty Review - OR - Little People Vs. Captain America

Plot

Arrietty is a borrower, a mini-person living within the finer details of the human world. With her parents, she works to live a comfortable life through borrowing from their human neighbours. Upon the arrival of curious new human boy Sho, Arrietty must learn what it means to grow up and stay safe in the wake of mounting hardships and danger.

Look at it! Look at how pretty is! My eyes ache.

Review

Studio Ghibli are, these days, held in a very awkward place; a frequent critical darling, they are heralded in the same pantheon as Pixar and yet, unfortunately, struggle to return the statistics of their more mainstream competitors. Arrietty is the studio’s newest offering and is, to date, their best shot at becoming the complete package outside of their native Japan.

A re-telling of Mary Norton’s classic tale The Borrowers, Arrietty drips in the beauty and charm so splendidly typical of Ghibli’s projects. The film offers an enticing glimpse into a stunningly realised, wonderfully inviting, parallel world; simultaneously comfortably similar and also excitingly alien, with even the most innocuous items, such as the humble sugar-cube, given a whole new lease of life. In a glorious unveiling sequence the titular heroine gasps in awe as her father abseils down a kitchen cabinet, veritably scaling Everest itself. The whole world is presented from a new perspective that, while minute in essence, has all the scent of discovery and scale of adventure offered by even the biggest of the action blockbusters. At the end of the film, you will be left either wanting to be Borrower or looking for your very own at home.

As a continuation of Ghibli’s personal creed, Arrietty is a children’s film not solely for children. Whereas too much of children’s entertainment in recent years has been focused on flogging the importance of morals, on the significance of right and wrong and ultimately serving up a glowing plate of sunshiny happiness, Arrietty instead follows a surprising path of emotional realism in spite of its fantasy roots and presentation. The whole film is an exercise in subtlety, weaving the relatively simple narrative around the two main protagonists as they deal with imperfections and hardships in their respective lives. It is around this core of realism that the beauty and charm of the film rotates; Sho explaining his dire circumstances amidst a glorious pasture, Arrietty coming to terms with the dangers of the world on the backdrop of a flowing river, the sheer breathtaking beauty of it all expertly juxtaposed against the difficulties of growing up.

For all the things Arrietty is, there is one key thing it is not: a classic. With neither the narrative complexity or pomp of Princess Mononoke nor the sheer wondrous charm of Spirited Away, it is unlikely to join the echelons of Ghibli’s greats. Further to its detriment is the so-so acting, that this is Tom Holland’s (Sho) first role is unsurprising. Similarly, the writing is irritatingly typical of a children’s film, no more risqué than an extra slice of bacon at breakfast, and competes with the understated subtlety of the film as a whole. While the enticingly foreign figure of Spiller hints at a Borrower’s worlds much bigger and diverse than what is shown, the cast’s insistence on speaking their minds in the most simplistic terms is nothing short of disappointing.

In much the same way as its predecessor Tales From Earthsea, Arrietty is intrinsically weakened through being an adaption. While not recreating the original story word-for-word the film is still stuck in a rut, restricted through the fact that it must abide by the source material. Often there is a hunger for some of the classic Ghibli imagination and character kookiness that cannot be filled. Yet, this may stand to be a positive thing, being based on a property already well known in the Western world, Arrietty is set to stand the best chance at handsome returns outside of Japan.

Verdict

Arrietty is a wonderfully composed poem about the complexities of growing up while making sense of and finding your place in the world. While the rest of the summer schedule competes to be the biggest rock ‘em sock ’em 3D action fest, Arrietty offers a chilled, charming and rewarding alternative.

4/5

Have a gander at the trailer and gasp:

As a final note, please follow me on Twitter: @smariman. You'll get told of updates and new posts as soon as they happen as well as the odd desperate attempt at being funny, entertaining and likeable. Such is life.

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