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Men In Black 3

It’s not a sequel that needed to be made, but thanks to the charm of its leads and a tone that harks back to the wit and humour of the original, it’s a pretty enjoyable trip.

Bel Ami

The excellent female support cast saves this patchy effort, which is let down by its leading man and a flat screenplay.

The Dictator

A disappointing, often repulsive and mean-spirited mess of a film with seemingly only one real criterion on its agenda: to shock and offend.

The Woman In Black

Packed with atmosphere, this old-fashioned but deftly told ghost story delivers ample chills and thrills.

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Red Riding Hood (Film)

by Matthew Pejkovic | March 22, 2011 17:22 | Edited March 22, 2011 17:24

Clearly modelling itself on the melodrama of Twilight, this modern take on a classic tale ends up an unintriguing dud.

What happened to Catherine Hardwicke? After starting off strong with Thirteen and Lords of Dogtown, the once promising filmmaker has created two of the worst supernatural thrillers in recent memory in Twilight and now the excruciating Red Riding Hood.

 

In style and story, it seems that Hardwicke and screenwriter David Leslie Johnson could not help but create a Twilight clone, no doubt in hope of cashing-in on familiarity (and its box office potential) and passing it off as creativity.

 

With its opening credits of the camera swooping over tall trees and mountains, a shuddering question arises: could Hardwicke really be so obvious? Sadly as the film progresses the answer becomes a disappointing "yes" as we are introduced to Valerie (Amanda Seyfried), a young woman from the small village of Daggerhorn who is torn between two men, childhood friend and love of her life Peter (Shiloh Fernandez), and prospective suitor Henry (Max Irons). 

 

Of course, the supernatural rears its ugly head in the shape of a wolf, whose increased attacks on the village prompts the appearance of wolf hunter and inquisitor Father Solomon, played by Gary Oldman with hammy intensity, injecting energy into an otherwise lethargic thriller.

 

As it becomes evident that the wolf is among them, a guessing game commences yet fails to intrigue in the slightest, with soap opera theatrics, dreadful dialogue, and comatose performances especially by Fernandez and Irons.

 

Yet worst of all is the environment in which Hardwicke updates this fairy tale. Although great with colour, as Seyfried's vibrant red cloak clashes with the bright white snow, the glossy sheen, synthetic looking sets, and confounding use of electro music in a supposed 18^th century setting, never comes together properly, resulting in a film with one hell of an identity crisis.