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REVIEW: Ghostbusters

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One of the many unfortunate pieces of fallout from the hugely negative response received by the Ghostbusters reboot prior to its release (and, indeed, prior to its actual completion) is that any positive critical response to the film must instantly be framed as a form of defence, likely to lead with something like, “You know what? It’s actually not that bad.” Sometimes it’s near impossible to look at a movie just as a movie, ignoring any outside influence, and this is one of those occasions. In fact, the film itself even references the peal of internet horror that met its announcement, ending with the words, “That’s not that terrible, isn’t it?”, amongst other things.

But considering the rolling wave of remakes and reboots that has come crashing in over the last decade or so, why was the re-engineering of Ghostbusters so utterly maligned? You could write thousands of words about possible sexism and the like, but to cut right to the chase here, the Ghostbusters reboot never looked that bad to begin with. And to all those who cried “rape” (and yes, there were many) over what the new film would do to their childhood memories, where were they when Terminator Genisys and 21 Jump Street were making a mockery out of their source material? Probably standing around like all the guys in The Accused, either ignoring it or egging it on.

Yay for Chris Hemsworth!

Yay for Chris Hemsworth!

Compared to those films and many others, Ghostbusters is a loving, affectionate, and wholly respectful new take on a much loved property, in this case Ivan Reitman’s 1984 original about a quartet of paranormal investigators. To back that up, every major cast member from the original Ghostbusters drops by for a cameo (apart from the apparently retired Rick Moranis and the late Harold Ramis, who is, however, sweetly and amusingly referenced), including the perennially grumpy Bill Murray. And while the tone of the film and the gags might be different (there wasn’t a queefing joke in the original, was there?), director, Paul Feig, and co-writer, Katie Dippold (who previously worked together on The Heat), maintain the loose, freewheeling vibe of the original, along with its loopy supernatural swing.

The four new Ghostbusters – Kristen Wiig, Melissa McCarthy, Leslie Jones, and Kate McKinnon – have a snappy, amusing chemistry, and nearly all of their gags (many of them seemingly improvised) hit the mark with gusto. Chris Hemsworth, meanwhile (as their weird, sweet, none-too-bright but strangely self-satisfied receptionist, Kevin), is a true delight, sending himself up with comic aplomb. While their comic repartee gets a little lost in the film’s extended messy, CGI-heavy climax, it’s this group of fine comic performers that so effectively anchor proceedings. They’re the main mix in making the occasionally wobbly but always entertaining Ghostbusters so much fun. And for the many doubters out there, there’s even a post-credits sequel hook, so get ready to once again bombard the comments section of your favourite websites with caps-heavy vitriol…

 
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REVIEW: Demolition

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After losing his wife in a car crash, financier Davis Mitchell (Jake Gyllenhaal) also begins to lose his grip on his life. Fixating on a hospital vending machine that malfunctioned shortly after his wife’s death, Davis writes a rambling letter of complaint to the vending machine company, using it as a way to narrate his loss and confusion. This brings him into the lives of the company’s customer service manager, single mother Karen Moreno (Naomi Watts) and her rebellious teenage son, Chris (Judah Lewis). As Davis’ increasingly erratic behaviour angers his grieving father-in-law and employer (Chris Cooper) and undermines the foundations of his old life, he begins to see the possibility of a new life with Karen and Chris, but still he wrestles with a question he can’t answer: did he love his wife, or was he just going through the motions?

That’s a fairly rambling precis, but Demolition is a fairly rambling film that follows its central character through an erratic course of grief and self-discovery replete with quirky characters, seemingly unnecessary side-trips, fantasy sequences, an unreliable narrator,  and the odd narrative non-sequitur. It does all come together, mind you, but for a while there, even while it’s enjoyable, it does seem like it’s ticking boxes in the Indie Dramedy Playbook. Comparisons to American Beauty are not uncalled for, especially when Chris Cooper is right there to reinforce them.

What elevates Demolition, though, is the strength of the performances animating it. Gyllenhaal once again demonstrates that he is one of the best actors of his generation, taking Davis on a believable course from numbness and alienation to catharsis. He finds solace in destruction, first taking apart objects that take his fancy – a fridge, light fittings, a computer – then volunteering for a demolition crew before realising that what he really wants to take apart is his life. Naomi Watts does subtler work; Karen is not a manic pixie dream girl dropped into the narrative to show our sad hero a better way of living, but a weary single mum doing her level best to keep treading water and smoking pot to take the edge off what is, even if it’s not explicitly stated, a stressful and unfulfilling existence. The MVP, however, is Judah Lewis as Chris: an angry, surly, foul-mouthed, classic rock loving, sexually confused kid who jumpstarts the film with his every appearance. The relationship between Davis and Chris is poignant and believable, moving from hostility to trust over the course of the film, and is arguably more central to the story than that between Davis and Karen. Lewis carries it with seemingly effortless aplomb.

Ultimately, Demolition is an incredibly humane film. It does not judge its characters, and it refuses to have villains; Chris Cooper’s grieving Master of the Universe could easily have been turned a few degrees to become a bad guy, but instead we’re allowed to see that he’s simply carrying a load of crushing grief as best he can. Even Karen’s boss/boyfriend (CJ Wilson), shown as something of an oaf with a tribal tattoo and, incongruously, a Joy Division t-shirt, is marked as a decent if un-self-aware man. Depicting but not judging life’s walking wounded seems to be director Jean-Marc Vallée (Dallas Buyers Club, Wild) raison d’être, and Demolition is another solid entry in that line.

 
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REVIEW: Sing Street

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This film has been touted as “like The Commitments, only with better music”, which even if true would be damning with faint praise. In reality though, it’s even more corny, predictable, and inane than The Commitments, and the music is far worse. That aspect is admittedly a matter of taste, and no doubt open to debate if you liked New Romantic bands and electro-pop the first time round, and think that those halcyon days should be revisited.

The setting is Dublin in 1985, and 15-year-old Connor “Cosmo” Lawler (Ferdia Walsh-Peelo) is going through a rough patch, as indeed – economically – is most of Ireland. His parents’ marriage is on the rocks, and he’s moved to a Christian Brothers school where bullies and a brutish headmaster prevail. But, in the not-so-grand tradition of pop melodramas ever since the fifties, plucky Connor dreams of escape through music and of winning the heart of a pretty girl (aspiring model, Raphina, played by Lucy Boynton). And so, inspired (if that’s the word) by the likes of Duran Duran, he forms a “futurist” band with a bunch of other kids, and enlists another one to fulfil the dual roles of manager and producer. Connor’s older brother, Brendan (Jack Reynor, the only halfway decent actor in the film) eggs him on with platitudinous remarks like, “Rock’n’roll is risk.”

What ensues is leaden, progressively more saccharine, and often unbelievable. Most of the players are miscast, none of the characters are especially well-drawn, and when they’re supposed to be rebellious, they’re less credible still. Avoid at all costs.

 
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Paul Feig: Calls In The Ghostbusters

After months of controversy, audiences will finally be able to make up their own minds about the new Ghostbusters, directed by comedy master, Paul Feig (Bridesmaids). FilmInk chatted to the filmmaker while he was in post-production on the supernatural comedy.
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Gender Matters: Record Breaking Funding for Women to be Seen and Heard

The Australian Government has today revealed the 58 recipients of Screen Australia’s Gender Matters: Brilliant Stories and Brilliant Careers, marking the largest cohort of projects funded in a single day in the agency’s history. A combined 45 story ideas and 13 industry projects led by Australian women will share in more than $3 million of funding. For Brilliant Stories, these ...