Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, part 1

Film Review: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, part 1

Starring: Daniel Radcliffe, Emma Watson, Rupert Grint, Ralph Fiennes, Bill Nighy, Alan Rickman, Rhys Ifans, John Hurt.
Directed by: David Yates. Screenplay: Steve Kloves.

Dumbledore is dead, and Voldemort is on the verge of taking control of Magical Britain. Harry Potter and his friends must abandon the safety of Hogwarts as they set out to locate and destroy the mysterious Horcruxes, artefacts that are the key to defeating the Dark Lord once and for all. However, with no real plan, and in constant danger, they find themselves lost and alone. Answers may perhaps come with the secret of the Deathly Hallows, but finding them puts them in greater danger than ever before…

CONTAINS SPOILERS

Well, here it is. Harry Potter and the Road Trip of Gloom. ‘Darker and edgier’ is a label all too often applied to each instalment of the series, although mainly by the press rather than the films marketing department. This time though, the film opens with Bill Nighy’s gratuitously Scottish Minister for Magic, Rufus Scrimgeour, declaring that “These are dark times.” The film doesn’t get much more cheerful than this.­­­

In starting, I should point out that I am an unashamed fanboy of the Harry Potter series, both the books and the films (not quite so much as far as the videogames go, but that’s a separate issue). I shall try to be objective over the course of this review, but do be aware that there may be faults I will excuse or simply not notice. Equally, some bits may frustrate me but pass without question to non-fans.

The film begins well, with an affecting montage of the three leads with their respective families: Harry watching as the Dursleys flee Privet Drive without bidding him farewell, Ron standing moodily apart from the hustle and bustle of family life, and, most movingly, Hermione wiping her parents’ memories, erasing herself from their lives before leaving them behind, possibly forever. Before long, the spectacular action kicks off, with an intense chase through the skies of England, before arriving for a more relaxed stretch at the Burrow.

There is a bit of a sag here, and it’s hard to know who to blame. The characters are all convening at the Burrow for the wedding of Bill Weasley and Fleur Delacoeur, representing hope amidst the darkness. It’s just that we haven’t seen Fleur since Goblet of Fire, and Bill Weasley is only introduced maybe twenty minutes before the wedding, with one line to his credit. It does make it a little difficult to care about this break from the plot – although on the other hand, you could take this as an insight into Harry’s own feelings of impatience and fear. This stretch does give the film one of its funniest moments though, single handedly justifying the continued presence of the Weasley twins.

And then it’s off again, a panic fuelled flight into the middle of Muggle London that ramps up the paranoia in enjoyable fashion, with the first of several thrilling, brisk little duels. For the next hour or so, the film rarely stops to breath, with the lead trio hiding out in Grimmauld Place (which you may remember from Order of the Phoenix), and plot point after plot point being introduced, expanded upon or resolved. New characters are introduced – often chowing down on the scenery gleefully, the vast majority of the adult cast clearly there just to enjoy themselves – then abandoned in favour of the next stunt or pretty location. In truth, that sounds more critical than I intend to be, although it is absolutely accurate; the original book is a veritable doorstopper, with much debate as to whether it needed to be quite as long. Steve Kloves, faced with the unenviable task of trimming the fat into a decent screenplay – while at the same time appeasing the diehard fans of the books, who would prefer it if every character, scene and line of dialogue made it onto the screen – has done an admirable job. Many reviews have claimed that the film is incomprehensible to those who haven’t read the books; my mother, with who I saw the film, has not read the books and found herself perfectly able to follow proceedings (bar a brief moment when she had to enquire who a character was [Voldemort]). Once again, Kloves has trod a fine line and done a good job.

This is not to say that there are no writing mis-steps. There is one scene where Harry and Hermione, distraught after Ron has left the group in a fit of jealous rage, share a dance to the wireless. I would argue that it doesn’t really work through several interpretations – it comes out of nowhere, making little sense however touching it might be, but it is also a distinctly romantic scene. Given that Harry’s relationship with Ginny Weasley is woefully under-developed, I cannot help but feel that the time would have been better spent on that relationship. Harry and Hermione spend most of the film together; they do not need more scenes specially written for them. It must also be said that the entire camping section, particularly the span of time where Ron is off screen, is hardly the most invigorating bit of film (although Kloves was working at a disadvantage; the same could be said for the equivalent scenes in the book. The celluloid counterpart is at least shorter).

The film picks up again during the final third of the film, where the set pieces jump in once again. A walk through Godric’s Hollow, the village of Harry’s birth is both surprisingly moving and genuinely creepy, especially when the bizarre woman they meet turns out to be a giant snake in disguise. Those fortunate viewers who, unlike me, do not have a crippling fear of snakes may find this scene less scary, but I was burrowing into my seat. Then we get what we’ve all been waiting for, a beautifully shot scene where Ron returns to destroy a Horcrux with a sword he has plucked from a frozen lake (What Do You Mean It’s Not Symbolic?), followed by the story of the Deathly Hallows.

The story behind the titular artefacts is easily one of the stand out scenes of the entire series thus far, and possibly the best scene in the film. Rather than have Hermione read out the fairytale, Yates has created an astonishing shadow play, beautifully visualised and with a light touch that is lacking elsewhere in the film. I would argue that the two or three minutes spent on it are worth the entry price alone.

It is also the last calm moment of the film: in the aftermath of this, the trio are attacked by Death Eaters, chased through a forest, captured and taken to the extravagantly Gothic Malfoy Manor. The confident run of action reaches its peak in one of the few scenes from Yates films that really lets loose to show that yes, these wizards use magic, rather than a stick that might as well be a gun for all the difference it would make to the action. The film ends on a cliffhanger (as you might expect), after a scene which isn’t quite as emotional as the makers believe it to be.

But enough of the plot and the action, I hear you cry! On the acting side of things, this was a risky film. Of the central trio of Daniel Radcliffe, Emma Watson and Rupert Grint, at least two of the three have long been identified as the weak link in the films, with the specifics varying with the viewer. As the trio are on the run, away from the safety blanket of Hogwarts and the cast of adults who inject much of the class and eccentricity of the series, this could have been a disaster. Happily, this is not the case. True, I would never say that any of them really set the screen alight with the quality of their acting, but they all give solid performances that are difficult to really fault – with one exception. In the aftermath of an early duel, Grint gets a nice little moment where he raises the question of whether they should kill or incapacitate their opponents. It is excellently done, and a good sign of development for the character. Inevitably though, it is when the villains are on screen that the acting really comes alive. As mentioned above, there isn’t much in the way of subtlety, but then the mix of insane and racist wizards doesn’t really require subtlety. Alan Rickman makes the most of his brief appearance, as does Jason Isaacs, hamming it up magnificently. True honours must go to Helena Bonham Carter and Ralph Fiennes though, as Bellatrix Lestrange and Lord Voldemort respectively. Both dominate the screen whenever they appear, both gleefully, insanely malevolent.

While the cast appear to have been explicitly instructed not to rein themselves in, this is perhaps the subtlest film of the series. I must admit, that as I left the cinema last night, I felt a little underwhelmed. By no means did I think the film bad, but I did feel that it lacked sparkle, that it was little more than build-up for part 2, out next summer. To a certain extent, this is still true, but as I have gone back over it, recalling little snippets and moments, I keep finding more to enjoy and admire. It will benefit from repeated viewings, certainly.

And last, but by no means least, I should give a quick word to the design and the visuals. In a word, superb. The few familiar locations are customarily stunning, and the beautiful set for the Ministry of Magic from Order of the Phoenix gets expanded into a wilfully bizarre location with clear inspiration from films like Terry Gilliam’s Brazil and 1984. Most of the film, of course, takes place away from elaborate sets, and the team have apparently been watching Lord of the Rings very closely; each exterior location looks magnificent.

Ultimately, the film succeeds on pretty much every level, but rarely reaches true brilliance, and lacks a certain sparkle. Hopefully, part 2 will stand up to the confident opening part. It is open to debate as to how much it will do with non-fans and, indeed, more obsessive fans. There are numerous changes and cuts from the book which will doubtless infuriate many, but there is only one bit that cannot be understood solely from the films, which is frankly incredible.

Finally, the million dollar question: was the split necessary? Well…maybe. There was a lot to pack in, and even with the judicious trimming the film runs to somewhere in the order of two to two and a half hours. The second half will probably be just as long, hard as that is to believe. Certainly, I never felt that the film had been padded to justify making more money, although it would be incredibly naïve to think that money did not play some part in the decision. At best, it is a financial decision that has been justified artistically, so I won’t quibble too much.

In Conclusion: Always good, if never spectacular, and well worth a watch. A highly confident instalment in the series, and I firmly believe that when watched as a whole, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows will be possibly the best of the seven/eight films.

Three and a half out of five

Book Review: The Dresden Files

The Dresden Files: Jim Butcher

1. Storm Front: 3/5 7. Dead Beat: 5/5
2. Fool Moon: 3/5 8. Proven Guilty: 4/5
3. Grave Peril: 4/5 9. White Night: 4/5
4. Summer Knight: 4/5 10. Small Favour: 5/5
5. Death Masks: 5/5 11. Turn Coat: 5/5
6. Blood Rites: 4/5 12. Changes: 4/5

"The world is getting weirder. Darker every single day. Things are spinning around faster and faster, and threatening to go completely awry. Falcons and falconers. The center cannot hold.

But in my corner of the country, I'm trying to nail things down. I don't want to live in a world where the strong rule and the weak cower. I'd rather make a place where things are a little quieter. Where trolls stay the hell under their bridges, and where elves don't come swooping out to snatch children from their cradles. Where vampires respect the limits, and where the faeries mind their p's and q's.

My name is Harry Blackstone Copperfield Dresden. Conjure by it at your own risk. When things get strange, when what goes bump in the night flicks on the lights, when no one else can help you, give me a call. I'm in the book."
- Harry Dresden, Storm Front

WARNING: SPOILER RISK FROM THIS POINT, FOR ALL INSTALLMENTS.

The Dresden Files. A series of noir thrillers, that happen to be about a wizard. While that's a massive understatement - there's a huge background mythology to the series - it's also the core of the books. Harry Dresden, wizard at large, investigates and solves a mystery. Over the course of the series, he's gone from investigating a magical murder to solving treachery in the ranks of the wizarding 'government'. Make no mistake, while it may have started as a series about a Chicago based PI, Butcher has turned it into a series that likes to play it epic.

I should start by acknowledging that 'The Dresden Files' will never be great works of literature. However, to expect this would be wrong; they are books that have their roots in pulp noir and fantasy, genres that rarely lend themselves to high art, whatever their respective merits (and I personally believe that there is much merit in both genres). The books have drifted ever more towards fantasy as the series has progressed - the turning point probably being 'Summer Knight', where Dresden's client is the Faerie Queen Mab, rather than a citizen of Chicago. However, the series has maintained that clever mix throughout, and done so intelligently, which obviously works in its favour - supernatural noir is hardly a unique genre, with many book stores stocking more of this flavour of work than classic literature. 'The Dresden Files' has to be special to stand out from the crowd, and for the most part this is easily achieved.

For a start, Dresden himself is a hugely compelling character. He is an old-school hero; the chivalrous knight in shining armour (well, leather duster) with a serious case of Chronic Hero Disorder. Although he's been sliding steadily further and further into anti-hero territory the darker the series gets, he's still driven primarily by honour and chivalry, and he is never quite as much of an anti-hero as he believes himself to be, a neat subversion of the trope by Butcher. The typically noir-ish first person perspective aids this immeasurably, allowing us a keen insight into his mindset and emotional state. Dresden may be big and tough, but he has no problem sharing his feelings (in fact, he arguably agonises too much over certain issues). Happily though, the main persona he uses is that of the wisecracking detective; unusually for such a character, he is geniunely funny, albeit in a supremely geeky fashion.

Next, and most famously, there is the action. Of course, no supernatural detective series would be complete without a few intense bust ups; Butcher seems to have made it his aim in life to supply at least seven of these per book. In at least one, 'Changes', he does tip the scale, with certainly one action scene too many, but most of the time you will be having far too much fun gawking at the insanity of what you've just read to complain. Action has been arguably the main attraction of the series since the second book, where Dresden (relatively) calmly throws a werewolf through three buildings.

However, action by itself does not a good series make, and where Butcher really excels is the mythology to the series. A lot of this is based on old myths and fairytales, whether reworked or otherwise - as mentioned, there are several appearances by faeries, and at least one Norse God has cropped up. Mixed in with this is a lot of Butcher's own mythology - there are intriguing twists on vampires (who are also pleasingly - well, vampiric and monstrous, rather than brooding sex objects), werewolves, demons, magic and God. More importantly, everything is important. Everything. Butcher has implied that there are things in book 1 that will be important in the final book (he estimates around 23 books by the finale). The way Butcher blends all these elements together is what really lifts the books. A blend of good characters, thrilling action and a fasciniating universe.

There are problems, of course. Certainly at the start of the series, the books, particularly 'Storm Front' and 'Fool Moon', are a little bland - partly because Butcher didn't want to write them in the first place, although one assumes he's learnt to love them a little more these days. Butcher's writing is never exactly stellar, although equally there's nothing actually wrong with it, bar a tendency to constantly repeat some of the same details. By the time you get to 'Changes', chances are you will have heard the same summary of the White Council, the same ruminations on magic, the same opinions at least once per book. In fairness to Butcher, I should acknowledge that on both occasions when I have read the series, I have read straight through without pause. I suspect that this would be less of an issue were I reading them as they were realised, at which point I might appreciate a little memory refreshing.

Ultimately, 'The Dresden Files' is a supremely entertaining series; it may not change your world dramatically, and it probably won't go down in history in the same way as 'Lord of the Rings', but that is the public's loss. They are fine reads, and highly recommended.

Book Review: The Mistborn Trilogy, by Brandon Sanderson

The Mistborn Trilogy: Brandon Sanderson

The Final Empire; The Well of Ascension; The Hero of Ages

The Lord Ruler has held dominion over the Final Empire for a thousand years. The Skaa slaves have suffered the most under his oppressive reign, and now a few brave outcasts team up to stage a coup. Will they succeed? And if they do, what will become of the world?

The short version? The Mistborn trilogy is, without a doubt, one of the finest fantasy sequences I have had the pleasure of reading.

The long version? Well, purely on a technical level, Sanderson excels. The writing is always confident, stylestically sure without being intrusive, and there is a pleasing range of characters, all of whom have their own individual voices and personalities. True, many of them are easily recognised tropes - the roguish thief, the street urchin who may be more than she appears - but tropes are not, of course, bad on their own, and they are excellent examples of said tropes. Similarly, the plot of the first volume at least is
not entirely unfamiliar, but a few neat twists and the fact that it continues into something far more unusual elevates it. By the final third of the series, Sanderson has built up such a complex and thrilling plot that when the revelations arrived, my jaw was hanging open for the rest of the book. The series as a whole is perhaps not unputdownable, however excellent it is, but at this point I just could not stop reading. When I finally reached the (very emotionally and thematically satisfying) conclusion, I was very tempted to start the series again.

The magic system is...well, I have mixed feelings. When it comes to magic, I prefer a system that feels - well, magical. Put too much detail in, and you risk losing that essential touch. Sanderson treads a fine line here; the magic is rigourously detailed and explained, to the point where some fans were allegedly able to work out the unrevealed powers of their own accord, which is certainly impressive. However, he never lets the magic become mundane or too scientific. As a trilogy that largely revolves around war of one sort or another, much of the magic is used offensively, but it is always awe-inspiring.

Finally, we must consider the thematic elements. This is always a dubious prospect, especially in fantasy - it is easy to become preachy or worse, dull. Sanderson's theme here is religion. More specifically, the nature of what makes a God. To say more would be a spoiler of criminal proportions, but suffice it to say that he handles it tastefully and elegantly. The eventual resolution is beautiful.

In case it isn't already obvious, I am a massive, massive fan of this trilogy, and I cannot recommend it too highly. It is a must read, and not just for fans of fantasy - it is a must read for anyone with an interest in good books.5/5

Season review: Doctor Who: series 5

Warning: contains spoilers for the entire season!



Well, now that's out of the way...



Big change this season. New Doctor, new companion, new TARDIS - new showrunner, in Steven Moffat. Big things were expected; Moffat was one of, if not the most popular and successful writers during Russell T Davies' stint at the wheel, while Doctor 11, Matt Smith, had the unenviable task of following David Tennant, once again arguably one of if not the most popular Doctor. Matt Smith was a relative unknown, while Moffat is (these days, at least) largely known for writing very, very scary episodes of Doctor Who. Fans rejoiced, assuming that under the 'Grand Moff' the show would take a much darker, much more adult tone.



So he fashioned a series designed to echo children's bedtime stories, and fairytales. Go figure.



If that sounds like a criticism, it isn't - the series has, obviously, not been perfect from beginning to end, but I feel it a roaring success.



For a start, we have Matt Smith's Doctor, who is quite simply...brilliant. There were concerns that he was too young for the role at 27, that he wouldn't be able to deliver the necessary gravitas and intellect for the 900ish (time-travel can be confusing...) Doctor. These concerns were inaccurate. It's a simply marvellous performance. In short, and to get the inevitable comparison to David Tennant done and dusted: Doctor Ten was manic. Doctor 11 is insane. More detail required? 11 seems genuinely alien at times, in a way neither 9 or 10 really achieved in my books (I'm not familiar with the series pre-revival, so I shall refrain from comment). He had the intelligence in spades, occasionally thinking so fast that even he lost track, combined with deeply affecting and subtle emotional touches. Best Doctor ever? Well...it's perhaps unfair to judge so soon, but the fact that it's even being considered should tell you something. And for what it's worth, I think he could be.



Secondly, we have the writing. Here, we have a slightly mixed bag. At the risk of sounding like a salivating fanboy worshiping at his altar, Moffat's six episodes were uniformly superb. I'll go into more detail later, but essentially, every episode he contributed was tightly plotted, smart (the final episode in particular), involving and endlessly quotable. The non-Moffat episodes...well, they weren't quite as good. As I said, I'll go into more detail later, but while Moffat's were the only outstanding episodes, there wasn't a truly bad episode among them.



Third, we have the supporting cast. Karen Gillan, as Amy Pond, was rather good. Not perfect - or at least, Amy Pond herself wasn't perfect; I'm not entirely certain whether the issues were character or actor based - but definitely rather good. She was rather stroppy in certain episodes, and even in the finale there were moments where I wanted to give her a shake and tell her to grow up, but these were never more than momentary annoyances. Her fiancee Rory was another fine character - better, in fact, given the high quality of character development involved. Where Amy matured solely (although importantly) in regard to her love for Rory, he himself evolved from a slightly wet, would-be doctor to a legendary hero. You've got to love a man who'll die for his friends, then overcome enemy conditioning to stand guard over his lover for 2000 years. Finally, for the recurring cast at least, we have River Song. She's a divisive character in the fandom - is she a brilliant, fun addition, an annoying mystery, or an unlikeable Mary Sue? Personally, I'd put her somewhere between A and B; she's been great so far, but there's a danger of her being overused if she keeps showing up like this.



Finally, the overarching plot. While we're used to plot words, this season was far more intricately linked together, with last minute reveals of timey wimey, wibbly wobbly...stuff going on all over the place. Everything, right back to the first episode, was linked together in one long paradoxical adventure. Impressive stuff.



And now, without further ado, a brief episode by episode account.



1. The Eleventh Hour (Steven Moffat)

Much of the goodness of this episode is covered above, under Matt Smith and Karen Gillan and the top notch writing. The pace never lets up, whilst finding time to introduce everyone satisfactorily (plus an impressive cast of extras) and establish key themes for the series - especially the complexities of time-travel. This was crowned with a moment proving just how imposing the Doctor can be, in a scene that's destined to be on the greatest moments lists for a long, long time. Add in the new theme tune, and this episode left me more excited about Doctor Who than I have been since 'The Christmas Invasion'. 5/5



2. The Beast Below (Moffat)

Another top quality offering from Moffat. An episode to establish the working relationship between the Doctor and Amy, while showing us a bit more of the world. More traditional scares - the Smilers - plus a genuine ethical dilemna at the end of the episode, woven around a fascinating scenario and a great script. 4/5



3. Victory of the Daleks (Mark Gatiss)

The first lacklustre episode of the season. Essentially, too many ideas and not enough time; the episode goes well until the halfway point, and then everything gets wrapped up in twenty minutes, with little pause for logic. And while this is Doctor Who we're talking about, and logic is in short supply, it's bad when one of the biggest flaws could have been sorted out with a single line of dialogue earlier in the episode. As a two-parter, this could have been fantastic. As it is, the first half is excellent, while the second half is memorable mainly for the Jammy Dodger Gambit. Furthermore, Churchill does not exactly come across as a firm, inspiring war leader. Quite the opposite, in fact. Disappointing, if necessary to bring back the Daleks. 2.5/5



4/5. Time of Angels/Flesh and Stone (Moffat)

The first two parter of the season, and it's brilliant. Take some of the scariest villains of the show. Give them some terrifying new powers, and proceed to ramp up the tension throughout the episode. Throw in some great character work from Alex Kingston as River Song, some clever - and audacious - timey wimey stuff, and an impressive set and script, and you have a fine set up for the next part. 'Flesh and Stone' is less successful; the conclusion of the episode is a rather convenient crack in reality for the villains to fall into, and some of the mystique of the Angels is lost in a badly judged moment. On the other hand, the acting continues to impress, the script is otherwise as good as you'd expect, and there's some key development in the arc plot.
ToA: 5/5. F&S: 4/5



6. Vampires in Venice (Toby Whithouse)

Back to a more traditional style of episode now - monsters, exotic locales, and dodgy effects. Seriously, they're the worst part of the show. The finale wouldn't look out of place in Adam West style Batman, and the scene where a young woman is executed is painful for all the wrong reasons. A definite result of the budget cuts the show was hit with. Other than that, an entertaining episode, if fairly unimportant. We get a little more about the cracks in time, Rory boards the TARDIS and his relationship with Amy is established, and the Doctor saves the day. 3/5



7. Amy's Choice (Simon Nye)

Surprisingly good, given that Nye is best known for Men Behaving Badly. But this is a rather tense, engaging episode - you could argue that the twist is a bit of a copout (it's all a dream!), but that aside, there's plenty to enjoy here. Certainly as far as Amy and Rory are concerned, with the best scenes so far regarding their character arcs. And the darkside of the Doctor is interesting. Hopefully we'll see a return. 4/5

8/9. The Hungry Earth/In Cold Blood (Chris Chibnall)

The return of classic enemy the Silurians. Not a bad episode by any means, but not the greatest. As with Vampires..., this felt like Doctor Who on autopilot. The conceit - aliens (well, technically not aliens) at the centre of the Earth - is great, and the initial 'attacks' of mysterious holes in the floor opening up and eating people were rather creepy. However, the budget affects things badly, since it's hardly a world devastating threat - there are four people in the village. Four. That said, Meera Syal was a fine guest character, and there's a tense cliffhanger. The second part doesn't quite follow it up - there's some schizophrenic characterisation, with the Silurian doctor going from gruesome fiend, desperate to vivisect Amy, to friendly and honourable. The sonic screwdriver becomes ridiculously powerful, to the extent that it could become even more of an episode breaker than it already is. Most of the events of the episode feel kinda pointless by the end, since the Silurians just go back to sleep. This would be utterly unmemorable, if not actually bad, were it not for Rory's death at the end, which is a genuinely tragic moment. 3.5/5

10. Vincent and the Doctor (Richard Curtis)

I'll admit, I was expecting not to like this one - I'm not a fan of Curtis's writing. However, this actually turned out to be one of the best episodes of the series. For a start, Tony Curran was superb as van Gogh, delivering a masterful portrayal of the depressed artist. There were some wonderful character moments for the Doctor and Amy as well, and an astonishing sequence where the stars morphed into a van Gogh painting. The ending was beautifully bittersweet. A very different take on Doctor Who, showing another side of time travel than just stumbling across monsters, and all the better for it. The monster was, to be honest, rubbish, but the rest of the episode was excellent. 5/5

11. The Lodger (Gareth Roberts)

A frustrating episode. Once again, nothing wrong with it per say, just a little pointless. Again, we get to see a different side of things; specifically, how the Doctor can affect peoples lives. In this case, for the most part, it's badly. He completely eclipses James Corden's character in every respect - professionally, socially, and romantically. It's an interesting side of things. However, while it's all interesting, there's still the monster of the week. Someone is building a TARDIS. A TARDIS. That's a huge plot point! But it's wrapped up in five minutes and never mentioned again. It might reappear at some point down the line, but it's a massive missed oppurtunity. So yes, not bad, amusing, but inconsequential and frustrating. 3/5

12/13. The Pandorica Opens/The Big Bang (Steven Moffat

TPO was not what I expected. From the pre-credits teaser, which went back and linked together pretty much every previous episode to the Pandorica, to the Doctor standing up and telling every single enemy he has ever faced ever to come and have a go if they think they're hard enough, to most of the good guys being dead or imprisoned at the end of the episode, this was one long audacious blast. However, while individual scenes impressed, the whole felt a little like a triumph of style over substance. I had the misfortune to be spoilt for the twist, and as a result the buildup didn't catch me the way it could have done. Perhaps if it had, I'd have a different view of the episode, but the mark of a good twist is that you can enjoy it even when you know what's coming. Unfortunately, that didn't really happen. On the other hand, the scene with the Cyberman was rather scary, and unexpectedly so. Good work on that!
TBB though knocked it out of the park. The pre-credits sequence had me gawking in shock and bewilderment, and seeing how that all played out was great fun. Sure, the stable time loop is a concept that doesn't really make much sense, but it was a good example of one, and it worked. The end was...technically dodgy, in that it was essentially a case of 'I do believe in fairies', but it played out so well that I can't make myself care that much. River Song did edge slightly into Mary Sue territory, and I hope Moffat can rein this in for the future, but overall this was a wonderful conclusion to the series. Matt Smith can stay for a while, in my book. He's just brilliant, and the scene at the end with him telling Amelia about his life was beautifully done.

Mass Effect 2

It's the 22nd century, and humanity has travelled to the stars, finding an entire galaxy of wonders. Alien races, beautiful planets, incredible space stations...and, of course, terrible danger. Two years ago, Commander Shepard, humanity's brightest light, defeated an extra-galactic invasion by the Reapers, a race of biomechanicals who feed off organic life. Now there is a new threat to humanity, and Shepard must gather the best of the best for a suicidal mission to unexplored stars. Will he save the day once again? Will he survive?

Well, that rather depends on the player. But more of that later.

First of all, I should acknowledge the fact that I am a massive geek. Things that I may pass over or lap up eagerly may send you running and screaming for the hills. With that in mind, you may want to approach Mass Effect 2 with a little caution. Additionally, if you haven't played Mass Effect 1, you should probably give this a miss. Not because you won't be able to follow the plot - a quick browse of wikipedia will bring you up to speed, and there are several occasions in-game that summarise the plot so far - but because the way you played ME1 will affect what happens in ME2. Primarily in the background, certainly, but I imagine it would be a far lesser experience without that previous knowledge. So be warned.

I loved ME1. It's one of the finest games I've ever played, and the universe behind it is incredible. I have quite literally spent weeks playing it. And I can give you an exclusive sneak peek of the review's conclusion by telling you that I will be replaying ME2 again and again as well. Sadly, I can't go into as much detail about the games as I would like: much of the pleasure is to be had in the story, and you really need to be as unspoiled as you can.

Essentially, both games are action RPG's. You wander round the galaxy, taking part in quests and shooting things. A lot. In ME1 you could drive around the planets you found as well, a mechanic that has been removed for the sequel. I haven't quite decided whether that's a good thing or not. It was undoubtedly the worst part of the first game, due to it being tricky to drive over the largely mountainous terrain you found yourself on, but it allowed you to feel like a real deep-space explorer: you flew into a star system, went into orbit around a planet, and dropped your tank down onto it (no, seriously). You then drove around finding valuable resources, occasionally blowing up a mercenary camp, or chasing a pack of space monkeys, or fighting for your life against horrific subterranian worm creatures. It wasn't perfect, but it was fun. In ME2, this has been replaced by flying to a system, orbiting a planet, and then 'fishing' for resources with your on ship scanners. This boils down to moving a cursor over a globe until the pad vibrates, at which point you fire off a probe which collects everything you need. It's...a little dull, shall we say. But - and it's a big but - because there are no longer any vast planetary expanses for you to explore, Bioware have been able to lavish more love and attention on the interiors you'll be wandering around. Aside from the main missions, ME1 had two levels - the mines and the bunker - that were repeated ad nauseam. While personally I was having too much fun with whatever mission I happened to be playing to pay much attention to the background, ME2 is a massive improvement in this area. Every level you go through is different, and hugely impressive.

In fact, the game looks much better overall. The graphics have been given an overhaul, and it all looks very sleek. Take a look at the city world of Ilium, and try not to injure your jaw when it hits the floor. For more subtle things, look at the screen in conversations with your team-mates, particularly the assassin, Thane. Each character is beautifully detailed and rendered, even the ones you only meet when picking up mission details. When the game shifts to cutscene mode, it gets even more impressive. It's positively sleek.

Sleek is ME2's watch word. Bioware clearly paid close attention to the criticism of ME1: every element that was critiqued has either been removed completely - the driving - or tinkered with. Take the combat, for instance. A common complaint about ME1 was that the shooting was dull, or simply just bad in some cases. ME2 feels like a game of Gears of War at times. The cover system has been improved, making it far smoother to get into cover, and enemies don't just stand there and soak up the bullets now. As a result, even someone like myself, who had no real problem with the combat previously, would have to admit that it's a much better experience. Given that about 80% of the game involves shooting, this is clearly a good thing.

The other big overhaul is the RPG elements. You start the game by...well, telling you how the game starts would be a bit of a spoiler. The second thing you do in the game is choose Shepard's background and appearance (and gender). For the record, it's tricky to give him a decent appearance, so I just stuck with the default. If you've played ME1, you can import your old save, of which more later. As you progress through the game you earn experience, which allows you to increase Shepard's skills. A key aspect of this is the Paragon/Renegade system. You'll always be a hero; your actions decide whether you'll be a virtuous, heroic knight in shining armour, or a cynical, shoot-first-ask-questions-maybe anti-hero figure. You can also earn upgrades for your weapons, armour and ship, which are extremely important. If you don't upgrade your weapons and armour, you'll have a tough time of it in the field. If you don't upgrade your ship...well, it is perfectly possible to finish the game with none of your characters surviving. You'd have to have literally just followed the story missions and seen none of the extras, but it's possible. This is obviously not a good thing.

Some bits of the RPG system have been given a boost: the character interaction is improved dramatically. This is partly due to several brilliant characters - I defy you not to love the scientist Moridin. Get him to sing if you can. There's also the insanely powerful Jack/Subject Zero, a convict with a penchant for tattoos, swearing, and intense violence. She's a much more intricately drawn character than she appears, if you take the time to get to know her. It's also to do with the new 'interrupt system'. Essentially, every now and again Paragon and Renegade symbols will flash up on screen during conversation. Press the corresponding button, and an appropriate action will follow. This ranges from hugging a grieving friend to pushing a man out of a skyscraper window. It makes it feel much more dynamic and spontaneous, and the Renegade ones in particular are great fun - although playing mainly as a Paragon, as I was, it did sometimes seem a little strange to go from politely reasoning with someone to beating information out of them. Presumably the same would be said for a Renegade doing the Paragon options.

The stats tweaking has been almost entirely removed though. Most RPG's deluge you with weapon, armour and other associated kit, which you could then fiddle with to your hearts content. This was certainly true of ME1. In ME2, you get a pistol, a submachine gun/assault rifle, a shotgun, sniper rifle and a heavy weapon, and one bit of armour. These can all be upgraded, but it's less intricate and involving. Instead of spending time finding the perfect set-up, you stumble across or buy an upgrade, and apply it. There's none of the joy of uncovering a new upgrade and unleashing it; I played through as a soldier, and used two different settings for pretty much the entire game. The upgrades you can find seem a little pointless, for everything bar the biotic powers (magic, essentially). I found it very disappointing.

In fact, this is basically my main complaint about ME2. In streamlining the game's content, Bioware have produced a shooter with RPG elements, where ME1 was - to me - an excellent balance between the two. In expanding the variety of locations, to great effect, the game world seems to have shrunk. There definitely seems to be less to do. And many of the big missions would have been side missions in ME1. It's justifiable, because the whole point is that the game is building up to the suicide mission at the end - and when you get there, it's incredible. I was quite literally on the edge of my seat in the opening cut-scene for the mission, and the intense atmosphere was brilliant. Working your way through an alien ship only to find a truly monstrous experiment taking place was the high point of the game, and definitely worth the wait. But the wait just felt more...compact.

Essentially, it's down to it being part two of a trilogy. Once the third game comes out, ME2 will undoubtedly seem even better than it already is - and make no mistake, it is an excellent game. You may note that all of my criticism is essentially nitpicking over what type of game it is. But the whole game is essentially buildup for the finale. Similar problems affected The Two Towers, and Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, to name just two popular examples. It feels odd to criticise something for leaving you wanting more, but that's what I felt. Massive enjoyed, but my appetite was only wheted for part 3, out next year. In the end, a firm 9/10, and highly recommended, but not quite perfect.

Oh, and I said earlier that you shouldn't play ME2 without previously playing ME1. If you import your save, then all the decisions you took in the last game carry over. The cast carryover is minimal; most of the cast from ME1 are reduced to cameos, assuming they survived at all, and it would be fair to say that the impact on the main plot of ME2 is minimal. But there is an undeniable glee in heading to, say, the Krogan homeworld and finding that your old team-mate is now a clan-leader and is working towards a clan unification. Or finding that your old stalker has now followed your example, and is wandering the galaxy righting wrongs whereever he goes. Or so he says, anyway. It's little touches like this that push ME2 above the norm, the icing on an already special cake.

Clash of the Titans

It's Ancient Greece, and the Gods are angry. The human race is slacking off with the prayers - the source of the Gods' strength - and are actually going so far as to destroy temples and statues. This cannot stand, and so Zeus decrees they must all die, or sacrifice a princess. Can Perseus, legendary hero, defeat the Gods and prove himself as a man?

I'll be honest, I wasn't expecting a great deal from this. The trailers didn't suggest intelligence, relying more on massive action and the brilliant tagline 'Titans will clash!' We'd worked that out, yeah. So it would be fair to say that I went in expecting something like 300: pretty bad, but in a ridiculously awesome way.

Well, that's what I got. Sort of. If you're familiar with tvtropes, you may have come across the trope crazy awesome. Well, 'Clash of the Titans' is stupid awesome. It makes little sense, and it fails at most aspects of the art of film-making, but it's rather good fun.

To be fair, it starts off rather impressively, with a genuinely beautiful prologue, the 'history' of Olympus told against a backdrop of stars and galaxies, the main gods formed out of constellations. It's imaginative and very well done. It's probably the best thing in the entire film, in all honesty.

In short order, we are introduced to Perseus, legendary Greek hero. He's clearly Australian, But that's ok, because his (adoptive) dad is Pete Postlethwaite, speaking in his normal Yorkshire accent. Actually, about 90% of the cast are British, with a few miscelleanous Europeans making up the rest of them. Anyway, back to Perseus. He's big, he's manly, and he's a rather petulant young man. Of course, about five minutes after we meet him, his family have been killed by Hades, so it's understandable. It would just be nice if he showed any other emotion over the next few hours, when he's not hacking things apart with a sword.

In truth, this is not a film for those who appreciate fine, subtle acting. This is a film for those who want to see Liam Neeson bellowing "Release the Kraken!" through a massive beard, while Ralph Fiennes chews slightly more scenery than he does as Voldemort. About half of the cast are either so unmemorable that their names don't register, or they simply aren't given a name. Names would distract from the heavy metal soundtrack, the awesomely bad script ("Calm your storm"), the bastardisation of the myths, and a massive lack of coherence. It's the kind of film that has the heroes set of from the city of Argo, and make their way into a rather pleasant forest, maybe from rural Britain. They get attacked, and chase their foe out of the forest, into a rocky badland sort of area. Which in swift order turns into the Sahara, before almost immediately changing into New Zealand. They end up in Mordor. This is all in the space of about ten days.

It's the kind of film that has one character flit between declaring his intention not to smile until he has spat in the Gods' eyes, and telling Perseus to pray to Zeus for strength, and that he should definitely use the gifts the Gods have given him. Given that the whole point of the film is that they're on a mission to defy the Gods...it's one of the weaker moments, shall we say. And I haven't even mentioned the love story, between Perseus and the ageless Io. She's been watching him since he was born. Which, if you think about it, is a little creepy.

It's the kind of film that can have you grinning as you watch a burly man in a skirt hack apart a giant scorpion from the inside, or fly Pegasus through the tentacles of the biggest sea monster I've ever seen. And what's not to like about Ralph Fiennes unleashing a swarm of harpies from his firey wings?

So yes, 'Clash of the Titans' is undoubtedly a very bad film. But if you disengage your brain entirely, then there's fun to be had here. It's just a shame that '300' did it first, and (as a So Bad It's Good film) worse.

The Midnight Mayor

Book Review: The Midnight Mayor, by Kate Griffin

The sequel to A Madness of Angels, The Midnight Mayor continues the story of Matthew Swift, recently violently deceased and resurrected urban sorcerer, and the Blue Electric Angels, the gods of the telephone wire who have taken up residence in his body. When we left them, they had just destroyed the organisation known as the Tower, a group of evil (and misguided, or simply coerced) sorcerers who were responsible for his death. A Madness of Angels also introduced Griffin’s idea of ‘urban magic’: essentially, life is magic, and magic is life. In this modern age, magic is no longer drawn from the wind, or the moon, but from neon lights, the smell of kebabs. The best defence spell is to invoke the rules printed on the back of an Oyster Card, and the monsters are not faeries or demons, but monsters formed from discarded litter, or the vast quantities of grease and fat poured down the drain by late-night takeaways.

As you may gather, the primary attraction of the series is the sheer imagination behind it. There are some wonderful ideas here, and if urban magic as practiced by our hero primarily translates to making things go boom on an epic scale…well, there’s nothing wrong with that, is there? Actually, that’s less of an issue in this book. Admittedly, that’s because the villain of the piece appears to be impervious to – well, everything – but having established the character of Swift, and the background to the story in the previous book, Griffin is now free to evolve the magical world even further.

It has to be said, Swift is not the most intricately drawn character. We don’t really learn much about him, despite the first person narrative. Despite being the nominal lead character, (it is perhaps stretching it a touch to call him the hero), he is so entwined with the angels that live in his blood that it is difficult to work out where he ends and they begin…if there is such a point. As he/they say, “I am we, and we are me.” There are lengthy segments filled with strange, intense passages that are clearly more to do with the angels than Swift, only for a sudden flash of humour, or hallucination of his dead friends and enemies to put him back in the hotseat. It’s a little disconcerting – but then, I rather suspect that’s the point. Whether it is or not, a suitably mysterious and disturbing atmosphere is created, so it perhaps doesn’t matter.

The plot is engaging – concerning the imminent destruction of London – and takes in various brilliantly drawn locales; London feels more alive than some of the characters, at times, especially in a wonderfully spooky sequence about halfway through the story. It rattles along at a fair pace, and I found myself reading straight through from beginning to end, and the conclusion leaves Swift – and Griffin – in an intriguing situation for any sequels.

The Midnight Mayor may not convert you, if you are not a fantasy devotee, but let yourself get drawn in, and you’ll be hooked.

Film Review: Percy Jackson and the Lightning Thief

So... Christopher Columbus directing. Based on a popular series of childrens/teen fantasy novels. Teenage hero, with two companions, going on a quest to stop a (kinda) magical war. Mysterious pasts, family secrets, treachery and mythical beasts. Stellar cast confined to adult, supporting roles. Harry Potter's back!

Oh. Wait...

Ok, so that's something of a flippant summary, but for God's sake, even the title font is reminiscent of the Harry Potter films. However, there are several crucial differences. First, Percy isn't a wizard, he's a demi-god, son of Poseidon. Second, he has a sword, not a wand. Third, he's a bit harder than Harry. Seriously, about five hours after finding out he's a demi-god, he's taking on hordes of monsters, and wielding a sword like he was born with it.

That encapsulates my biggest problem with the film. It's so rushed. Ok, it's a quest against time, but even so. The plot covers about two weeks, of which Percy spends one week unconscious at various intervals. He then travels from one unspecified rural location to another, then to Tennesee, then Las Vegas, then Hollywood. In a week. While still finding the time to battle various gods and monsters. My knowledge of American geography is hazy, I admit, but is that really possible? Bear in mind they're not travelling via magical means. Just public transport, a stolen truck, and then a ridiculously fast car. As a friend pointed out, such things can be explained away with that faithful stand-by of "It's magic" or "A demi-god did it", but it niggled at me. And it also means there's very little time to breath, to take in any of the already slim characterisation (Percy is heroic, and just rebellious enough. His best friend Grover is loyal and interested in girls. Annabeth/token girl is feisty and good with a sword.)

The plot is similarly threadbare - macguffin 1 has gone missing, Percy is blamed, he must retrieve macguffin 2, 3 and 4, with the aid of his friends and macguffin 5 and 6 (although to be fair, 5 and 6 - a shield and winged converse respectively - are pretty awesome), so that he can recover macguffin 1. Simple. But entertaining, it has to be said. While I did feel the need for some crackers with my cheese at several points, I always enjoyed the film.

This was largely to do with the action and the design. I loved the fight with the Hydra, and the climatic battle above New York, and Percy's encounter with Medusa was genuinely creepy (although I'm petrified of snakes, so half the work was done). And the set design, especially in the Underworld, was incredible. Despite my comments about similarities at the top of the page, the Potter franchise could pick up a few tips for Deathly Hallows in this regard.

The main cast were unoffensive, but unmemorable, while the supporting cast impressed, as you might expect. Special mention must go to Steve Coogan's 'Mick Jagger look' Hades, for being particularly amusing, and Sean Bean is always good value.

In short and to summarise, good clean family fun. It won't stretch your grey matter, but it will entertain. And there's nothing wrong with that.

3/5

Spider-Man Reboot

Yes, it's true. Raimi and Maguire have left the building, and Sony is rebooting the franchise under the direction of Marc Webb (500 Days of Summer). How do we feel about that? What do we want from the reboot?



Aside from despair at the lack of originality (Spidey 1 isn't even a decade old yet, do we really need a reboot so soon?), I'm not that fussed by this. Raimi did a decent job on the first two films, but number 3 was a mess; while I concede that this was due in part to studio interference, his personal plot thread was poor as well. Retconning the death of Uncle Ben is a bold move, but it didn't really work, to my mind. It was a shame, as the scenes with Sandman were some of the best of the film, but c'est la vie. And the less said about 'evil' Peter the better.



So, a change in direction isn't necessarily a bad thing. Webb is best known for romantic comedies, and Sony want to take the franchise back to high school, so we're probably going to get a lighter, more humourous film. Nothing wrong with that - one of the major flaws of the series so far is that Spider-Man hasn't been cracking jokes left right and centre. It's part of the character, and in the right hands, can be done well. The fact that it's been given a budget of $85million will cut back on the spectacular action as well.



So, less action, probably more humour/character scenes. Fair enough. There are other questions though. Will this be an origin story? It's been done well, and not long ago. I think an 'Incredible Hulk' style approach to this would work - a quick montage over the opening credits, before straight into the meat of the film. Most of the audience would know what was happening anyway, if not all of them. What about villain? Green Goblin is the obvious one, as Spidey's nemisis, but we've had three films with Goblins of one sort or another in, so something different would be nice. Venom? He was handled badly in the last film, but there's potential there. He'd probably work better in a sequel though. Seeing Eddie Brock and having some rivalry in the first film would work though. Doctor Octopus has been done, and recently, same for Sandman. There's potential in the Lizard; good for brawls, and he's got the brains to create a serious threat to the city as a whole, if I remember rightly. Plot scenario: an altered version of the Ultimate plot thread. The Lizard starts causing chaos, Norman Osborn tries to track him down to experiment with the serum he used for the super-soldier scheme. Not too complex, not too expensive.

My main request for a reboot would be Brian Michael Bendis doing the script. His Ultimate Spider-Man is probably my favourite Marvel series, full stop, and it would fit Sony's requirements rather well. That aside... Less relationship angst. I know Spidey isn't always the most cheerful of characters, and has a lot of baggage, but would it kill the film to not have him constantly moping over MJ? There are other aspects to his life. I'd like to see Black Cat, for a whole host of reasons. Finally, don't copy things like The Dark Knight. It's a fine film, but that approach won't work for Spider-Man. There isn't much more room for Nolan to make the Batman universe realistic, never mind the Spider-Man universe.

Huh. The more I think about this, the more excited I get. Shame that it probably won't live up to my dreams, but no matter.

Film Review: The Book of Eli

The Book of Eli:
Dir: the Hughes Brothers
Starring: Denzel Washington, Mila Kunis, Gary Oldman, Michael Gambon, Frances de la Tour, Max von Sydow



This seems to be the month of post-apocalyptic dramas, doesn't it? 'The Road' and 'The Book of Eli' in a short space of time. Truly, we are blessed... Kinda.

'Eli' tales the story of broody drifter Eli, walking across America in the aftermath of a nuclear holocaust, heading West with only a massive machete, an iPod, and a mysterious book to his name. Naturally, this quest is complicated by nefarious survivors, not to mention the standard lack of supplies and shelter.

For a start, I should mention that the film is rather beautiful, with the action set against a stark, bleached landscape that evokes the wild west, post nuclear fallout. It's not conventionally pretty, but it is different, which is always to be applauded - although this doesn't extend to the 'city' where a fair chunk of the action takes place; it's a generic shanty town, and the same can be said of the scenes on the road and the Golden Gate Bridge - been there, seen the car strewn road, got the t-shirt.

Still on the positive side, there are sporadic bursts of stylishly brutal violence, with Eli demonstrating some formidable blade skills, and revealing himself to be a pretty good shot as well. We even get some pretty decent performances - Gary Oldman's villainous mayor is a role he could probably play in his sleep, but he's typically good, and Michael Gambon and Frances de la Tour provide a touch of humour as redneck cannibals for a couple of scenes.

Sadly, Denzel Washington as Eli is a rather dull lead, given little to do except brood and kick arse. To be fair, Washington does this well, but as the heart and soul of the film, Eli leaves you feeling cold during the first half of the film. Indeed, at times he comes across as being as bad as the people he spends so much time fighting. And if you're anything like me, you'll spend the second half trying to work out how he can be so ridiculously tough to worry about the fact that you're not engaged with him. Similarly, Mila Kunis as Solara, Oldman's stepdaughter, is restricted to token spunky female - who is dressed in curiously modern fashion for a character born maybe twenty years after a nuclear war. It's comforting to know that skinny jeans will still be around in the final years of the human race, I guess (and iPods, despite being notoriously fragile. The product placement in this film is immense.)

My main problem comes with the film's message: that the world can be saved by faith in God. I don't object to the message in principle, but the way it was delivered left a sour taste in my mouth. For one thing, faith in God here appears to mean you get badass ninja skills and immortality (which would probably do a lot of good for congregation numbers...), with the moral aspects of it rather sidelined. This becomes a plotpoint, true, but nevertheless. Following several scenes of Eli moralising to Solara, the final shot - of the Bible being placed on a shelf - felt like the Hughes brothers were channelling a televangelist, which was deeply irritating. It wouldn't surprise me if the film attracts flak for focussing on Christianity over all over religions. I don't think it would deserve it, but it wouldn't surprise me. Again, it's the final scene more than anything. The Bible is placed next to copies of several other religious texts, but it is bigger and rather more impressive than those copies. It may not have been the intention, but it felt like a conclusion saying "Christianity beats these religions hands down. Forget them." I'd have preferred them not to mention other religions at all; it's an American film, and America is a predominantly Christian country. Why not focus on Christianity? The acknowledgement felt condescending though.

Ultimately, I can't really recommend 'Eli'. It annoyed me more than anything else, and when you find yourself summarising the story by referencing other films, you have to worry. Disappointing.

Film Review: Avatar

Avatar 3D:
Dir: James Cameron
Starring: Sam Worthington, Sigourney Weaver, Zoe Saldana

On the distant planet of Pandora, inhabited by the Na'vi, the human race is trying to mine the valuable material unobtanium. Unfortunately, the largest deposit is right underneath a native colony. Paralysed marine Jake Sully (Worthington) is recruited for the Avatar project - an experiment in placing human minds in Na'vi bodies - so that he can persuade the Na'vi to leave. He soon finds that his mission will not be as simple as he thinks...

'Avatar' arrived in a storm of publicity and hype; James Cameron's first film in ten years, a cinematic revolution, the film that will justify and perfect 3D technology, the greatest action film of the decade. Indeed, it has just been awarded the Golden Globe for Best Picture. Does it succeed? As always with this question, the answer is a little from column a, and a little from column b. In this case though, the answer is weighted in favour of no.

However, in the areas it succeeds in, 'Avatar' is a triumph. Technologically speaking, this is a genuine revolution. I'm not ashamed to admit that I spent the first twenty minutes of the film quite literally staring at the screen with my jaw dropped. 'Avatar' is a beautiful film. Pandora feels like a genuinely alien world, and the creature designs are stunning. The horse and eagle equivalents will get the most attention of the indigineous wildlife, of course, but my personal favourites were the little bugs that started spinning away when touched. And of course, the Na'vi are superbly realised. Not quite photo-realistic (nothing in the film is) but still beautiful. Furthermore, the 3D is well used - this is not a gimmick, with no trick shots of things flying at the audience. This is a fully developed, subtle 3D world. It's astonishing.

Sadly, this does not extend to...well, to any other aspect of the film. For a start, the script is shockingly derivative. There has been much made of the plot similarities between 'Avatar' and 'Fern Gully' and 'Pocahontas'; but there are innumerable scenes and characters that are straight out of other films. The big finale, for instance, is essentially an amped up version of the battle between the Ewoks and the stormtroopers in 'Return of the Jedi'. Cameron even filches from his own films; the corporate villain, Parker Selfridge (Giovanni Ribsi), is essentially Carter Burke from 'Aliens', and Michelle Rodriguez's Trudy may as well have been given a heavy machine gun and renamed Vasquez for all the difference it would have made in characterisation.

But of course, characterisation isn't the main issue here. The cast are largely required to play archetypes - Jake is the flawed hero, realising what's really important, Trudy is the rebellious jock pilot, Weaver's Dr Augustine is the gruff doctor more interested in her work than anything else, and Stephen Lang's evil colonel is the bigoted psychopath who only wants to kill his enemy. None of the cast deliver a bad performance, per se - it's simply that they have nothing interesting to work with. Saldana's Na'vi princess, Neytiri, is the only stand out performance, appearing truly alien.

The script is unmemorable, with the exception of one line near the end, and due to the fact that we've seen most of the story before, it doesn't really hold interest. There is far more attention paid to the themes, whichh would be fine were they not so badly handled. To be fair, there's nothing wrong with the messages themselves - collaborations between corporate interests and military organisations are bad, and it is important to know who you really are, and what is really important. But the idea of the military being a bad thing is somewhat undermined by the fact that this is a James Cameron film. Anyone seen 'Aliens' recently? Or either of the first two 'Terminator' films? This is made worse by the care and detail lavished on the military hardware, just as impressively designed as Pandora and its inhabitants (although much of it is a "homage" to the walkers of 'Matrix Revolutions'), and the fact that the two biggest threats of the film are destroyed by Jake climbing on top of them and blowing them up. The plot plays out like a gorgeous video game. The final straw is the religion of the Na'vi, which while fine in theory, comes across as ludicrous on screen.

Truthfully, 'Avatar' is not a bad film. It is just that with the exception of the technoligical and artistic sides, there is nothing special about it. The script is average at best, the acting is fine, the plot is predictable. It is entertaining, to be sure, but far from deserving of the praise that has been heaped on it.

However, Cameron does deserve a great deal of credit for his innovations in cinema technology. 'Avatar' may be an average film, but it is an exceptional tech demo. If this is the future of cinema, then the future is bright. But next time, can it be tagged to a decent film please?