The King’s Man Cert: 15, 2hrs 11mins
Resurrections by The Matrix Cert: 15, 2hrs 28mins
The Tragic Macbeth Cert: 15, 1hr 45mins
Titane Cert: 18, 1hr 48mins
Without Ralph Fiennes and his ever reliable company, The King’s ManIt would, it is likely, be quite a mess. Even without it, the prequel to two contemporary Kingsman movies is two hours full of highs and lows.
Yes, there are moments that are funny and others that are even quite moving, but it’s also a film of ponderous pace, ridiculous accents and dated values that have nothing to do with its period setting.
However, it is possible to have teenagers entertain you between Boxing Day (or Twelfth Night)
Without the ever-reliable class of Ralph Fiennes (above), The King’s Man, one suspects, would be a right old mess
Fiennes plays the Duke of Oxford. He is pacifist, widower, and single-gentleman who relies heavily on the help of his nanny (Gemma Arterton), and Shola (Djimon Horunsou).
It is also no surprise that he buys his impeccable suits from Kingsman. This Savile Row tailor has, as the Boer War ends, yet to be a front for our private secret services organisation.
As the First World War draws near, his solemn vow to his wife to protect their now-teenager son from danger is being tested.
Young Conrad (Harris Dickinson) wants to do his bit, and others want him to too; and all the while a shadowy organisation – home to several of the ridiculous accents and numbering Rasputin (Rhys Ifans) and a despotic Scottish nationalist (yes, really) among its dangerous members – is intent on making war inevitable.
They can’t be stopped.
Fiennes, the Duke of Oxford, a pacifist widower, and single-gentleman dad, is heavily dependent on the help of his family nanny (Gemma Arterton above).
Fiennes and Dickinson both are quite good. The almost unrecognisable, but eventually overindulgent Ifans is also pretty good.
Arterton, Hounsou and others are almost unbearably underutilized in a movie where the screenplay lacks polish. Matthew Vaughn also appears to be missing the professional expertise and professionalism of Jane Goldman as his regular writer partner.
There hasn’t been a Matrix film for 18 years, but now there is and, sadly, Resurrections by The Matrix turns out to be a disappointment.
Where Spider-Man: No Way Home – another film extending an iconic franchise – recently hit big moment after big moment, The Matrix Resurrections hits hardly any.
All the required elements are there, of course: the green digital characters cascading down the screen, the red and blue pills, the glitching black cat, the white rabbit – and Keanu Reeves and Carrie-Anne Moss, both now in their 50s but looking good, are back too as Neo and Trinity.
You have all the elements you need: The green digital characters cascading down on the screen, and red and blue pills. Keanu Reeves, Carrie Anne Moss, and (above).
But somehow, something has gone missing, and I’m not just talking about Laurence Fishburne, now seen only in flashback.
Seems there’s a new Morpheus in digital town.
For a franchise that has always been about worlds within worlds, ‘realities’ within ‘realities’, the pick-up is almost too clever, too arch for its own good.
Neo has returned to Thomas Anderson mode. He is now the celebrated designer for a trilogy of video games and quiet obsessive with Moss, his attractive mother.
This is slow, boring, and lacks tension.
It’s only six years since Justin Kurzel brought us his version of Macbeth, with Michael Fassbender and Marion Cotillard as Shakespeare’s murderously ambitious couple.
Fracnes McDormand, (above), plays Lady Macbeth. This is an incredibly and admirably color-blind production
Now, it’s Joel Coen’s turn, with his wife, Frances McDormand, as Lady M and Denzel Washington taking on the title role in what is a notably and commendably colour-blind production.
Shot in beautiful black and white that instantly brings Ingmar Bergman’s Seventh Seal to mind, it looks like a stage production from the 1960s or 1970s, with both production design and wardrobe rising to the stylised occasion.
Most of the performances are pretty good, too, but it’s difficult to bring new life to such familiar words on screen, and Coen has taken some liberties with the Bard’s plotting that may upset purists.
Titane (it’s French for titanium) won the Palme d’Or at this year’s Cannes Film Festival and deals with the unhappy consequences of a wayward young woman with a titanium plate in her skull having sex… with a car.
Proclaimed a masterpiece by some, I see Titane more as one of those films that I see so you don’t have to. Your welcome
Proclaimed a masterpiece by some, I see it more as one of those films that I see so you don’t have to. You’re welcome.