★★★½
“While feeling incomplete, still a good primer for young action heroine fans.”
There aren’t that many decent action heroine films for kids: much as I love Bloody Mallory or Kill Bill, they aren’t really child-appropriate. At the other end, films like the Harry Potter or the Narnia series, while containing female characters of some importance, sideline them in favor of the boys. That makes this a refreshing breath of fresh air, in that the heroine is firmly front and center as she goes through her adventures. It’s set in an alternate universe where people’s souls take the form of animals that accompany them everywhere, known as daemons. Childrens’ daemons shapeshift, but adults’ ones are static in form. Things are run by an authoritative group called The Magisterium, but Lord Asriel (Craig) who has found “dust” in a far Northern land, that could challenge the established order – the Magisterium have been kidnapping children for use in human experiments to counter dust. Into this is dropped Asriel’s niece, Lyra Belacqua (Richards), who is given the last golden compass, a device able to answer any question in the right hands. she is about to head North with Mrs. Coulter (Kidman), only to find she has a central role in the kidnapping – as Lyra’s best friend has now vanished, she bravely heads off, initially on her own, to rescue him.
It’s a pretty cool adventure tale, with some stirring sequences and memorable characters – not least the armoured polar-bear (voiced by McKellen), who becomes Lyra’s protector. He doesn’t just sit around drinking Coke, let’s say, though the entirely bloodless nature of the battle sequences lessen the impact significantly, though is likely an inevitable result of the PG-13 certificate. It is satisfyingly full of strong female characters, on both sides: as well as Lyra and Mrs. Coulter, the witch queen Serafina Pekkala kicks almost as much ass as the polar-bear. But the film fails badly to tie up the ends, particularly Lord Asriel, who is kidnapped in the middle and then vanishes, almost without further mention, until a quick reference at the end. Admittedly, while there are decent reasons why – it was intended as the first in a trilogy – we are less concerned here with excuses than actuality. And in actuality, it peters out.
I have to say, I haven’t read the book on which this is based, but opinion generally finds the movie to be ‘dumbed-down’, not least for removing the book’s far greater criticism of religion [the Magisterium is a thinly-disguised version of the Catholic Church]. This is likely inevitable, given the film’s $180m budget, but didn’t stop a campaign to boycott the film – which worked rather better in the US than abroad. It took more than four times its US gross overseas – compare, say, the first Narnia film, where the foreign multiplier was only about 1.5. Its relative failure in America has thrown the sequels into doubt, especially in the current economic climate, and that’s a shame: the world could always use some more heroines, and what you get here is painfully and obviously unfinished. Maybe I’ll go read the books instead.
Dir: Chris Weitz
Star: Dakota Blue Richards, Nicole Kidman, Daniel Craig, Ian McKellen
While Corman is better known now as a producer of schlock-horror, he has tried his hand at just about every genre in his time. This was his last stab at the Western, with Garland playing Rose Hood, who takes over as the marshal of Oracle, after her husband is gunned down. However, she incurs the wrath of local saloon-owner Erica Page (Hayes, best known for the title role in Attack of the 50 Ft. Woman), who is running a property-acquisition scheme, based on her hopes for the railroad to come to town. She brings hired killer Cane Miro (Ireland) up from Tombstone, only for him to fall for his intended victim, who is unaware of his mission. Which is surprising, since he is dressed from head to toe in black – even at age seven, when I used to watch The Virginian with my father, I knew this indicated an utterly irredeemable nature.
Not to be confused with the (rather tedious, IMHO) bunch of New York feminist artists, this is about Isabel, the well-educated daughter of a middle-class family, who opts to toss it all away and go into the jungles of Colombia to fight the revolution with FARC, the insurgents who have been rebelling against the government for more than 40 years. She undergoes training, both political and military, and has to adapt to an environment radically different from the one she knew before. It’s not always successful, and you wonder how she’s ever going to become a “freedom fighter” when she can’t even take part in the slaughter of a cow. [shown, below right – PETA activists will 
e the film-makers didn’t want to go down that avenue, and since they were out in the jungle, with a group of heavily-armed insurgents, I can hardly blame them for letting that angle slide. Instead, it lets the film speak for itself, and FARC does sometimes come across as little better than kids playing soldiers: one, particularly memorable part of the training, consists of recruits running around, waving wooden guns about and shouting “BANG!” at imaginary opponents. They also have a startlingly bad ‘national anthem’, which sounds more like the fight song from a third-rate community college.
Honey West is best known as the heroine of a mid-60’s TV show created by Aaron Spelling, starring Anne Francis. But her origins actually date back almost a decade further, to a series of pulp detective novels written by Forest Fickling, under the vaguely-pseudonymic name of G.G.Fickling – his wife was Gloria, which may explain the choice. The heroine is a private eye, who follows her father into the profession, after he was killed on the job. These adventures, judging by A Gun for Honey, are rather more hard-boiled, and occasionally risque, than the TV show, though even in the book, the characters never actually seem to do “it”.
Grindhouse harkens back to an earlier time, when the only way to see cult or obscure movies was at your local fleabag cinema or drive-in. There was an entire industry of low-budget studios, like AIP, set up to create product for these outlets: knowing they couldn’t hope to compete in the areas of stars or general quality, they resorted instead to the old stand-bys of sex and violence. They flourished, roughly from the sixties to the end of the seventies, but the steady rise of home-entertainment media spelt their death-knell – at least as far as theatrical releases went. However, their films were an influence on many film-makers, and some of them have teamed up to bring you this love-letter to the genre, of the sort probably not seen for a couple of decades.
There’s a fine sense of escalation, from the relatively-subdued opening, through to the insane climax, in which Cherry – now fitted with an automatic weapon in place of a limb which was torn off her during an earlier attack – takes on an entire army of the undead. Ludicrous? Over-the-top? Nonsensical? Hell, yes. Wouldn’t have it any other way. About the only weakness is a tendency to go overboard with the trappings of grindhouse flicks, such as missing reels, scratched film, etc. far beyond the point at which it’s amusing. We get it. I said, we get it. Thank you. Fortunately, the DVD should have the “restored” i.e. un-screwed with version.
This section has the usual problem of Tarantino movies: he’s in love with his own dialogue, especially during an immensely-talky first half. And making the problem worse, the words never seem like they’re coming out of the characters’ mouths, but it is all too easy to imagine Quentin Tarantino saying them. Self-indulgent, meaningless drivel, full of pop culture references, he believes will make you think, “How clever!” – unfortunately, the result is closer to “What a poser!” This gets old really quickly, and when things get going in the second half, it’s a blessed relief. If you need to use the bathroom, quite likely in a 195-minute event like this, early on in Death Proof is definitely the time. You won’t be missing anything at all, and I suspect it might have been better if the two directors here had swapped scripts.
While in English, this came out in Japan, since it was part of a series of translations of popular works, intended as an aid for people learning the language. As a result, the book comes with translation notes at the back explaining, for example, what the phrase “We’re encased in a transparent sheathing of ultrathin reinforced polymer” means. Though I note the word “lesbian” is, apparently, deemed unworthy of further translation. It’s a swift read; discounting the notes, barely 125 pages long, and they’re not large pages either – a lunch-hour might suffice, if your boss gave you a few minutes grace.
The opening hour of this must be great entertainment for sadists, watching Demi Moore get pummelled, ground-down, chewed-up and beaten into a bloody pulp by the war machine, as part of Navy SEAL training. The first woman to go through it, she could open the door for others if she succeeds – which is exactly why the stops are pulled out to ensure she fails. While the most obvious face of this is Master Chief Urgayle (Mortensen – his character here would eat Aragorn for lunch), her political mentor Senator DeHaven (Bancroft) also finds the pressure coming down to pull the plug on this social experiment. But Jan…er, Jordan O’Neil (Moore), won’t give up at any cost, demanding absolutely equal treatment. Of course, after what seems like a 75-minute training montage, she wins the respect of her colleagues, overcoming the Senator’s intervention thanks to a peskily imperfect fax machine.
Chagoyan is perhaps the nearest thing Mexico has to offer to an action heroine. She best known for her role in Lola la Trailera (‘Lola the Trucker’), in which, she played the daughter of a haulier – she takes over his business and goes out for vengeance, after he’s gunned down for refusing to assist a drug-cartel. Almost a decade later, that director’s son would helm this, in which Chagoyan plays a teacher who moonlights as a crime-fighting vigilante. Not having seen part one isn’t much of a problem; presumably it explains her origins, and perhaps how she gets to spend so much time away from her job. All we see here is one class, before she and her midget sidekick take on a gang who kill one of her pupils (with a surprising amount of blood, it has to be said). Then, when she’s blamed for kidnapping the daughter of the police chief, she has to find the real culprits and clear her name.
The opening shot zooms in on Rodriguez with her head down; slowly, she raises her head, and stares into the camera with ferocious intensity. If this renders the rest of the film largely redundant, it’s not really anyone’s fault. In Michelle Rodriguez, the makers have the perfect person to play Diana, a pissed-off, troubled/troublesome) teen, who finds that violence