James Watkins’s The Woman in Black is an old fashioned ghost story unconcerned with the post-adolescent thirst for bloody carnage, putting atmosphere above gore and playing with tragedy rather than troublesome suburban poltergeists. Daniel Radcliffe carries most of the film alone as a young lawyer, Arthur, recently widowed, who treks to a remote part of the English country to settle the affairs of an estate. But he’s not alone in the old deserted mansion where no-one else is willing to set foot, and how is it that so many children have died in the nearby village? This is a horror for audiences who understand horror to be about tragedy coated with the supernatural, not drowned in blood. As a remake of a Hammer studios classic, Watkins succeeds in evoking a sense of dread and grave inevitability as the young lawyer, ably performed by post-Potter Radcliffe, comes to fear for his own safety. It’s an atmospheric, quiet, satisfying horror.
Here we have another film that seems more concerned with other films than with telling a story itself. Instead of telling an involving and funny story, Ted steadies itself upon other movies, propped up on pop references and cues to make things funny when there’s very little happening on screen. I’d rather watch Flash Gordon again than watch Ted again. Between the Saturday Night Fever reference (or rather an Airplane! reference) and many other winks at better films, the film plods along with an odd and misguided stalking subplot thrown in featuring Giovanni Ribisi. I’ve seen Ted described as transgressive and subversive, but the film is the same-old-same-old story about friendship that we’ve seen a hundred times, even if the titular character is a marijuana smoking foul mouthed teddy bear. Indeed, contemporary American cinema’s celebration of the persistence of adolescence has become quite tedious, and despite a few genuine laughs – including an inspired jab at a Twilight cast member – and excellent visual effects, Ted is neither refreshing not intelligent comedy entertainment. Creator Seth McFarlane’s television work, mainly Family Guy, provide better material.
Haywire, Steven Soderbergh’s first foray into mainstream action (accepting that his Oceans movies are lightweight capers, not action films) is a sombre, yellow-hued affair with MMA star Gina Carano starring as Mallory Kane, an employee of a company contracted by the United States government to address sensitive international situations by way of assassination. While Carano is clearly not a strong actor, her physicality more than makes up for often clunky line delivery. Haywire is a female driven Bourne but stripped of spectacle and with Soderbergh’s trademark restrained editing. As a result, the combat scenes are exciting without being exaggerated or indulgent. Haywire tells a simple story but in Soderbergh’s hands it becomes (momentarily) cerebral. The film features Ewan MacGregor, Michael Fassbender, Channing Tatum, Antonio Banderas, Michael Douglas and Bill Paxton. Fans of The Expendables 2 need not apply.
