RAVE - The Trip to Italy

This movie - the second of two featuring Steve Coogan and Rob Brydon as a pair on assignment by The Observer newspaper touring and writing about restaurants - may be somewhat of an acquired taste, but man do I like that taste.

One IMDBer who clearly hasn't the taste described it as "the Beavis & Butthead of the BBC set". Alright, so the film sounds unscripted and the two comics incessantly bicker and banter, talking about their careers, and their women, often while doing impersonations of Tom Jones, Alan Bennett, Roger Moore and all the other Bonds. But it's definitely not Beavis & Butthead.

The first movie saw our two ad libbers touring The Lake District in England. This time they're on a culinary trip down the west coast of Italy. Aside from having Mrs. P go on and on about how I've never taken her to the Amalfi coast, the film was a real joy.

Great scenery, great restaurants, and great fun.

RAVE - Jack White at the Civic Auditorium

Sometimes all of your good deeds and times you took one for the team are repaid. And so it was last night, when Her Gorgeousness bought us tickets for Jack White at Bill Graham's Civic Auditorium.

Normally a soul-less venue - we saw possibly our worst show ever there one New Years Eve, listening to a dull George Clinton's Parliament support an even duller Macy Gray, preceded by a curiously dull Basement Jax - last night was literally and figuratively electric.

This was the third time we'd seen our Jack. The first was when the White Stripes' sound got totally lost in the wide open space of Shoreline Amphitheater. The second was part of a mixed bill at The Treasure Island Festival, where the execrable Tegan and Sarah were followed by the equally dreadful Vampire Weekend. The wonderful Gotan Project lifted our spirits until White's then band The Raconteurs appeared on stage. "At last" I thought, "decent guitars!"
Anyhow, after his recent appearance on Jimmy Fallon's late night TV show where for one of his songs he was accompanied by six female musicians, last night's performance saw him backed by a selection of old friends who managed to provide enough uplifting noise to match his screeching guitars.

PS - I have to credit official photographer David James Swanson for the pic. I'm still trying (unsuccessfully) to get the video downloaded from my wife's iPhone.

RANT - The Hundred Foot Journey

Yet again I have to say, if this was Mrs. Page's blog there'd be a glowing review of The Hundred Foot Journey. However, as it's my blog, the film gets panned, chewed up and spat out like the rubbish it is.

I have to admit my opinion was written in my mind as we strolled into the theater. The phrase "predictably slushy, and slushily predictable" sounded just right for what I expected to be a formulaic load of old mush. And so it was.

A family from India moves first to the UK when their restaurant is burned down by rioters, but the UK doesn't work for them so they tour France looking for just the right place to set up their new venture. The place they choose just happens to be the other side of the road - the "hundred foot journey" - to a classic French restaurant owned by Helen Mirren.

General merriment (not) ensues as the two eateries duke it out for custom. I won't be spoiling anything by telling you (because even The Pinball Wizard could see what was going to happen) the Indian son turns out to be a wonderful chef, and everything ends happily. Even for the decidedly undesirable Om Puri who, in a story line sure to pander to the film's Indian audience rather than anyone not brought up on a steady diet of over-engineered film romances, finds himself paired with the albeit aging but still solid 7/10 Mirren to his 1/10.

The only good thing about the film was the total lack of ridiculous singing and dancing.

REVIEW - Into The Storm

At least this film wasn't a disaster. Well, it was about a disaster, but it was decent enough to satisfy those discerning folks who'd rather sit through a predictable movie about the wind than watch The Expendables.

We earthlings must love disaster movies. We've had earthquakes, volcanoes, tsunamis and floods, contagious diseases, zombies, aliens of every shape and color, dinosaurs, and apes. And even though this particular type of disaster has already been done in film, Into The Storm out-twisted Twister.

The effects were special, although there were some flaws in logic, with the wind wild enough to raise airliners into the maelstrom but still managing to leave the good guys with their feet firmly planted.

At least it got me out of the house, away from the TV, albeit staring at a larger screen.

REVIEW - Lucy

Named after the alleged first ape from which we're all descended, Lucy is a woman duped into delivering a suitcase supposedly containing papers to a gang boss at his Taiwan hotel.

Surprise, surprise the suitcase contains not papers, but a powerful, brain-enhancing drug. Bags of the drug are implanted to Lucy's and three other unfortunates' intestines, and they're sent on their way to Paris, Rome, and Berlin (I think).

Lucy's package starts to leak, and her brainpower expands accordingly, from the basic sub-10% of its capacity that us humans normally use.

What transpires is visually interesting, but full of illogicality, inconsistency, and pointlessness.

Morgan Freeman files one of his standard 'egg-head without a clue' performances, while Scarlett Johansson shows that she's a lot hotter than Lucy's name-sake.

All in all, barely worth the time it took to watch.

RANT - Snowpiercer

A dull, overblown exercise that leans heavily on Orwell's 1984, and adds little except the - at first - interesting setting of this story, namely on an ever-running train that's powering its way to nowhere.

Set in a post-apocalyptic ice age, the train has to keep moving or else it, and earth's surviving members, would freeze. Quite how it keeps moving is left to our imagination. Maybe I missed the bit where the locomotive's power was explained during one of the film's snooze-induced moments. Who knows. And in the end, who cares?

The novelty of the entire story taking place on a train soon wears thin, as the less fortunate passengers are consigned to the rear, being fed re-processed protein "food", eventually battling their way through the more elegant passengers traveling in the forward carriages to the inventor and owner of the train at the front.

Tilda Swinton is unrecognizable as the go-between the train's front and back sections. And this film is equally unrecognizable as entertainment.

RAVE - Calvary

Now, you might think that seeing as our wives are off swanning around in England and Spain, Amo and I mistook the title of this film, thinking we were going to see a western about The Cavalry. But no, we knew this was a movie about an Irish Catholic who, since his wife had died made his vocation the Priesthood.

Brendan Gleeson and an array of odd-ball mostly Irish villagers play out the story of a Priest who is told during confession by one of his parishioners that he was going to kill him - because he'd been a good Priest. He's given one week to get his affairs in order, before they are to meet on the windswept local beach for the final - potentially murderous - scene.

This was a Philomena-esque film, with the pace and excellence of Nebraska. It was a brilliant script, choc-full of witticisms, sound logic and weird characters.

Our evening was rounded off with dinner at Dosa, and being chatted up by two tipsy. middle-aged women at the bar. 

Hope the wives are jealous when they hear this!

RANT - A Most Wanted Man

Much of the praise about this film seems to be accompanied by the parenthetical comment that it was Philip Seymour Hoffman's final film. He certainly wasn't looking like a man in peak physical condition in this one.

When a Chechen refugee arrives in Hamburg claiming his father's money - all 10 million plus dollars of it - the security forces spring into action. Well, they hardly "spring" into anything, certainly not action.

I wholeheartedly agree with one reviewer who said on imdb.com: "If you like long periods of watching Philip Seymour Hoffman driving in his car, or standing around smoking, then this is your kind of film. This film is so slow it's even slow for a John le Carre book. The film is so slow you don't have to worry about a toilet break. In fact, you'll probably see more action in the hallway than you will in the film". Thank you, drjgardner for those deservedly scathing comments.

I know it's lazy of me to simply use someone else's review, but this movie isn't worth wasting any of your time watching, or my time reviewing.