The Last Days on Mars
Next up on this year's list of films about us flesh and bone types kicking about the void is The Last Days on Mars which comes to us with the promise of a quite starry cast (pun intended) that includes Liev Schreiber, Elias Koteas and Olivia Williams.
What is surprising and worth mentioning about that is the fact this got made at all, let alone with those people involved. At the front of the film, as is usually the case with low budget films with ambitious amounts of effects, there is a never ending list of production companies. The amazing thing about this is how they all read the script and gave it the thumbs up. One production company full of short-attention span morons I can buy but all 10 (or however many there were) at the head of this film stumping up filthy moola to put it into production, I just don't understand. Then you factor in the writer, director and cast and you are left, when the film ends, scratching your head thinking "wait, have NONE of you seen another horror sci-fi film ever? Did you all have your brains wiped after a bus accident and think this was a valuable use of your time and resources?"
Now, let me explain. My confusion comes because the film, The Last Days on Mars, is, hands down, the most generic, obvious and mundane film I have ever seen. Earlier in the year my friend James and I took in Stranded, a Christian Slater starring, moon set, film that had clearly been made in a shed in Skegness for the cost of some Ginsters pasties and a packet of cheese and onion crisps and even that had more going on in it than this. True, you couldn't always tell what the hell was going on and the plot seemed to revolve a lot around doors opening and closing but still it was less generic than The Last Days on Mars.
In a nutshell this is the plot: A rag tag band of bored and annoyed astronauts are finishing up their scientific fact finding mission on Mars. There's a tetchy, by the bookish, type, a pure-as-the-driven-moon-rock type who hangs around keeping a level head when all about are shitting bricks, the out-of-depth captain who makes all the wrong decisions and a roguish, mumbling engineer who happens to be claustrophobic. Rounding out the group are a bunch of nondescript nobodies who look like they've just wandered in off the set of Coronation Street (a soap opera) filming in the studio next door. There's also a European chappy we never get to know who discovers living bacteria, breaks the rules to go out and examine further, the ground gives way, he falls in and becomes an alien infected Mars zombie. He then quickly infects someone else and the two undead space monsters shuffle back to the camp to pick off the panicky, inept and idiotic crew one by one in a quick and not interesting way.
That's it.
Seriously.
That's it.
Now normally I'd be all for that because a film that is, in essence, "Infected rage zombies from Mars" with Liev Schreiber should be awesome. Should be tremendous. Should be right up my street. The trouble is, imagine that film but made by really boring people with no sense of fun. Imagine that film made by a bunch of people that think they're are being innovative and different while being wholly derivative. Who read the short story this was apparently based on and thought "hmmm I haven't heard of this before, this will be a perfect movie?" It's Contamination, Leviathan, The Thing, Alien and a hundred others like them but with none of the style, wit, charm, creativity or talent.
Don't get me wrong, it's acted fine, looks good, the effects are impressive and there's even a little bit of decent blood letting but the script is inept, the idea redundant, the score non existent and the finished film, dull.
The title sequence, long slow vista shots and weird claustrophobic flashbacks all fool you into believing this could be another Moon type scenario. An art-house space picture with good acting, some psychological and emotional depth and maybe even a decent twist. Sadly that is not the case, you have no hint, really, of who any of these people are, beyond their generic cliches and even when the alien rage beasties attack nobody really does anything. Things are tried quickly and abandoned, mistakes are made left and right like these people were college co-eds in a mid 90s Roger Corman produced slasher film and the ending is as pointless as it is dull.
I really wanted to write some praise for this but, unfortunately, all I was left with was a sense of "this got made? how did THIS get made?" Also how do you have a film like this and NEVER use the line 'Is there life on Mars?' or ANY Bowie reference for that matter! Disappointed!
World War Z
FAIRLY SPOILER FREE
When I say 'I like Zombie films' I realise, now, that I am talking about really only a handful of movies. George A Romero's original trilogy, Lucio Fulci's Zombie, The Living Dead at the Manchester Morgue, Re-Animator, The Return of the Living Dead and that's more or less it. There are probably a few more I am not thinking of right now and probably a few from the genre's heyday that I haven't seen yet but I list these films merely to shed light on where and who this review is coming from.
Notice how I didn't include 28 Days Later and 28 Weeks Later. Both films I like very much but, to me, they are NOT zombie films. They are post-apocolyptic infection films but they are NOT zombie films. People get infected while living, the dead don't rise from their graves and the infected don't die before they come back with the 'rage' contamination.
I mention this because World War Z is NOT a zombie film (in my mind). NOT AT ALL
It is basically the story of a world wide violent rage/rabies infection seen through the eyes of one perpetually stoned, lank haired, hipster scarf wearing, former UN investigator played by Brad Pitt.
I am not sure I have ever seen a film with such massive, global set pieces that is so utterly bland and underwhelming. This is not to say it's an altogether BAD film because it's not but it's not anything special either. It lacks a sense of humour, a sense of style, a decent soundtrack, engaging characters or any cool at all.
Since zombie films and zombie film remakes became tediously the rage in the last 10 years the genre has distinctly lacked any cool. The zombie films of the seventies and eighties are still popular today because they had iconic soundtracks, great lines spoken by characters you liked, disliked or had a complex series of mixed emotions about, they had metaphor and meaning, style and substance and fantastic gore.
World War Z really doesn't have any of that. What it does have is a global scale, some nice tension at the beginning, a cameo from David Morse that could've gone on MUCH longer and some weak underlying message about how we should all just get along. It feels more like a bland alien invasion movie.
Brad Pitt is hideously miscast, misdressed and woefully haired. He was about as convincing a UN investigator as Denise Richards was a nuclear physicist (in The World Is Not Enough). He was also bland as a beige pair of slacks on a wax model of a local news anchor from Des Moines.
To improve this film you should've cast a ton of people and instead of just following 1 man, who seemingly doesn't eat or sleep for a week as he travels from South Korea to Wales and everywhere in between, you follow lots of people around the world all detailing the outbreak in their own way. That at least would allow for some characters. Say what you like about mindless tat like Independence Day or 2012 but at least they have a sense of humour and are fantastically entertaining.
The film attempts to seriously portray what it would be like if an infection took over the human race and turned us into canabalistic rage monkeys. It also attempts to have a story that wraps up in a predictable 'satisfying' way, some set pieces on a grand scale that you haven't seen before and some wishy-washy guff about how we should work together and, in that regard, it's a complete success.
The CGI is not terrible or annoying, it is shot and edited competently and at least the first act attempts some tension and the last act attempts to be a bit more exciting. It does have one scene though that proves that, even in the midst of apocalypses, mobile phones are fucking annoying.
It thinks it's way smarter and better than it is when really it's all just too serious and a bit dull. It's, also, weirdly, one of the most bloodless films of its kind in existence (obviously to capitalise on the recent zombie craze and pack em in at all ages!).
If you're still curious then it is worth one watch and maybe I am just jaded and burnt out but I was watching the film thinking, if this had anyone else in the lead and a Goblin soundtrack this would already be 10 times better.
5 out of 10 bloodless dry steaks in a beige sack
The Story of Droning by Mark 'Despair' Cousins
I knew it was all utter nonsense when Cousins interviews other pretentious arse head Lars Von Trier about Dryer and Von Trier stammers and dribbles through an utterly pointless and horribly shot interview segment saying 'I don't know why he's great but he is'. Oh well that's ok then Cousins.
At one point, while randomly and casually discussing the birth of documentaries, Cousins actually says "Seemingly they were only co-directors, the other director being life... itself"
Jesus!
Lastly the documentary is so utterly horrible to look at. Amazing clips are presented with no life to them, the interviews are unlit and discoloured giving them the look of 3 day old dried sick and the footage he took from around the world is bleak, too slow, shot on cheap video and unimaginative making the world a cold and ugly place to look at. The whole thing is accompanied by the dreariest music Cousins could find (probably from his own personal collection of Latvian dirges) that makes it have the feel of a 'help you quit smoking' hypnotic video from 1989.
How can you take an art form so full of innovation, creativity, life, excitement, message, propaganda and importance and reduce it to this droning, creaking, plodding, monotonous, opinionated and slanted 15 hours of tedium?!?
Some review on imdb described it like he was trying to hypnotise an otter. I can't beat that.
I imagine that a dinner round Cousins house takes place in a cold grey room, on a bare, rough table (because, you know, poverty and despair are "REAL"), while Russian funeral marches play on a small wind up, war time gramophone and the 7hr Eric Von Stroheim film Greed plays on a loop, projected on a blood stained sheet next to a bare window, while his wife sobs uncontrollably into the mash potatoes and Cousins drones on saying "These are the worst mashed potatoes so far in the story of Cousins, there's no cream, no butter, no taste and yet think again, look closer, the preparer has left the skins on, the skins are red. Maybe the red potato symbolises hope amongst this futile dinner time. Maybe it's just a potato. The server leaves it ambiguous and who am I to ask?"
It all makes you want to scream and say cheer up you miserable bastard!
If I manage to wade through any more I will let you know.
Twat.