Plot: Dan Dunne (Gosling) is an inspirational teacher in Brooklyn. He is also a damn fine basketball coach. Oh but he likes a bit of coke...and crack...and drink. When a student in his class catches him cracked out like a mother hubbard in the school toilets, they form a close bond and Dan becomes scared of who young Drey (Shareeka Epps) consorts with, such as family friend/drug dealer Frank. But then, who is Dan to talk?

So what?: This was hailed as something of an inner-city come-good in reverse. Where a white, well-to-do teacher encourages those he teachers but not from middle class ivory tower. However, that ain't the case. Gosling's spaced-out do-gooder is a complex amalgamation of the likes of Michelle Pfeiffer in Dangerous Minds and well...a junkie.

Dan has problems himself - which are brilliantly shown by Gosling from jonesing to whacked-out arguments to self-involved indulgence - but knows what is right and wrong. Frank (Anthony Mackie) does well as his exploitative dealer, and even points out the discrepency in a heavy user trying to stop someone selling drugs. The film is slow paced and carried on the weight of Gosling (receving muchos accolades) and Epps' performances but never reaches more than some perverse after-school special about the perils of drug abuse and how rotten big city living can be.

Rating: 3.5/5. Innovative take on a cramped genre but there is still preaching even if it isn't lamping you across the chops with a bible.

Shooting Dogs (2005), Dir. Michael Caton-Jones


Many people, in retelling events, throw in some bedraggled love story or non-existant plot twist but in some cases the source material is so chilling, so absolute, so fucking scary all you can do is let history tell itself. Luckily Caton-Jones allows the slaughter of 800,000 Rwandans do the talking - no lovestory and certainly no Hollywood ending. 


Unfortunately, the only way to do so effectively is to follow western leads; these being idyllistic Gap-year teacher Joe (an engaging Hugh Darcy) and stubborn Catholic priest Christopher (the scene-stealingly mesmeric John Hurt). The disassociation of Europeans from an African affair is a theme throughout. The nightmare unfolds at the school turned haven for 2'500 Tutsi Rwandans hiding from their rival Hutu's, who attempted a bloody-machete-wielding coup in April of 1994.
 

Joe is thrust between an age old tribal dispute and faces death, inhumanity and slaughter that he had never thought possible when he decided he wanted to 'make a difference' with his year out. What happens is a horrifying glimpse into brutality (which is scarily visceral) and the passive UN, who can only 'monitor' but not 'enforce' peace, leave you screaming at the injustic of them being able to shoot dogs gnawing at bodies but not those that felled the corpses in the first place.


Hurt carries the film with a reserved aggression completely suppressed by his utmost faith in God, while Darcy's idealistic view of the world is desicrated by bloody carnage. You can't help but feel the fear, panic, ruin, loss and savagery coming through and a number of scenes shake you to the core, I guarantee it.


Never destined for any awards - possibly due to the critical nature of UN policy - this is a near classic in every sense of the word.

Munich (2006), Dir. Steven Spielberg

Munich is in essence a revenge story but that doesn't mean that the gawking likes of Gareth from 'The Office' would 'fuck yeah' his way through the chisel-jawed heroes bloody dispatching of the countless generic villains who wronged him. This isn't a Schwarzenegger style romp complete with quips, it is a taut psychological look at the futility of an eye for an eye and the effect that death has on those who perpetrate as well as suffer it.

The Israeli government begin mounting a covert team to retaliate for the hostage-taking and eventual slaughter of 11 Israeli athletes by Palestinian-led gunmen at the 1972 Olympics - where the titular Munich comes into play. 11 dead Israelis must be met with 11 dead conspirators and former Prime Ministerial bodyguard (Eric Bana) leads a team across Europe seeking their foes without any of the kitsch of Ocean's Eleven's ensemble or James Bond style gadgetry...despite oddly-accented, chest-beating Daniel Craig being a team member. What we get is a cross-section of patriots who question their ethics but believe in their cause.

Bana, in his best character piece since Chopper, is torn between completing a mission for his homeland but also, in irony, his life and wife at home, where does his true allegiance lie? Bana has various demons to contest with during the course of his mission and that is without even delving into the stark, controversial politics that back this piece.

The only real foray is a conversation between Bana, posing as a member of ETA, and a Palestinian in a safe-house in Europe that manages to present both sides of the bloody conflict without deciding for you who is right and who is wrong. The film isn't about who has the right to the Gaza Strip but the extent those who think they do have the right will go to prove their point.

Inventive direction (its fucking Spielberg though) gives the film a rich texture that borders on novelistic but the slowing of pace at times jars, with heightened action pieces amidst long attempts to convey purpose and a message.

Spielberg does well not to imbibe the piece with wholly pro-Israel propaganda and instead attempts to assert the view that this conflict is now so deeply entrenched in the blood of the throngs of willing fighters that it has become a quagmire. An excessively long run time is the only real draw back of an otherwise exceptional piece of cinema that doesn't depend on preaching or excessive flash, bang bollocks to get a point across.

Bobby (2006), Dir. Emilio Estevez


Where can I get it?:
Almost anywhere now.


Whats the big fucking deal?: Bobby Kennedy was a great man. He touched a lot of lives. A lot of lives. Estevez writes/directs/co-stars in this multi-narrative account of a day in the Ambassador Hotel waiting on the whistle-stop visit of RFK on the day the California Primary is announced and channels Crash as best he can within the reins of a solitary day in June 1968. But the fact that RFK touched so many livs is the strongest and weakest part of an ultimately sentimental but somehow lacking piece.

We get a young couple avoiding Vietnam, young men taking drugs because its the swinging sixties man, racist hotel managers, cheating bosses, drunken fallen stars, young black ploticians, oppressed hispanic kitchen workers and thats just about half of the cast. You suddenly realise that Estevez has an exceptionally ambition attempt to capture a general mood that is fairly relient on contemporary stereotypes.

Many characters do well (William H. Macy, Anthony Hopkins, Sharon Stone) while others seem fairly redunant (Martin Sheen, Helen Hunt, Ashton Kutcher) but it is a very good ensemble even if they aren't brilliantly utilised. The story interweaves news reports of the time and aggrandize what was one of the last intelligent, quick-thinking politicians without really overdoing it. Issues of the time our burhsed over; war, race, politics, immigration, baseball but nothing is commented upon with any conviction. However the story lacks enough momentum due to the its sheer amount of scope to keep you rooted all the way to the heart-wrenching finale.

Rating: 3/5. Goes beyond a vanity project but isn't a classic.

Perfume (2006), Dir. Tom Tykwer


Where can I get it?: Any good DVD stockist.


So what?: This is the biggest film that Germany has ever created...and its not that bad. Charting obsession, horror and excellent period adaptation down to the crooked teeth of the French period. 'Perfume' is the thorns of a sweet smelling rose.


17th century France is a grubby cesspit, where our lead Jean-Baptiste is berthed under the table in the sickly food market. After surviving a harrowing attempt on his life by his fellow orphans, Jean-Baptiste grows into a tanner, despite his loneliness and isolation due to his honker's penchant for all of earth's scents.


A chance meeting sees him taken under the wing of an aging perfumier (a scene stealing Dustin Hoffman). After helping ressurect his career all seems well  but his clumsy, obsessive ways lead to the death of a beautiful young girl in the dark night of the market and the chase is own to savour the flavour of France's most beautiful women.


One review I read said that it is impossible to sympathize with the intense anti-hero but Ben Whishaw manages to make you feel for rather then hate the lead. His actions are deliberate and completely overcome by his need to garner smells. The setting is beautifully done, Hoffman is great and the story trundles on at a good pace but they critically under use Alan Rickman as a worrying count/father to a beautiful girl. All in all, a good yet esoteric adaptation.

Rating: 3/5. Closer to a cup of hot chocolate than CK One but still 'Perfume' smells pretty good.

 Flags of Our Fathers (2006), Dir. Clint Eastwood

Where can I get it?: Out to rent and buy now - along with 'Letters to Iwo Jima'

 So what?: In all liklihood you've seen the picture of the flag being raised (look left, dummy), well this is the long and winding story behind it. Jesse Bradford, Ryan Phillipe and Adam Beach fill the shoes of the men charged with taking Iwo Jima for the Americans in WW2. That's not to say it was 3 men against Japan but these are those that we follow - a cowardly runner, an admirable doctor and a drunken yet modest Native American. The dynamic of the three is tested and the jumping back and forth of time lets us see their fates long before we know who they are, why they are there and what they saw which works well. The war scenes are intense and blast out of the speakers like you were being shelled yourself, while the slower moments sit well amidst the chaos. The problem is, it is hard to emphathize with these men - except Phillipe - Bradford is not meant to be liked and Beach is hammy in his portrayal of Ira Hayes but thats not to say its a bad film. There is an epic feel to it, that is never seemingly capitalized on and despite the lengthy build it still somehow feels rushed. Probably viewing 'Letters...' would help fill in the gaps but at the moment this is a decent war film that helps to paint a vivid picture of public perceptions of war at a time of unspeakable hardship.

Rating: 3/5. Intense and well shot but somehow generic.

 Blood Diamond (2006), Dir. Edward Zwick

Where can I get it?: Out to rent now. Maybe buy too. Who knows.

So what?: What is painful about this portrayal of the illegal sale of conflict diamonds is that it is not a explicitly a true story. But it is a very real account of a matter that divides, destroys and kills Africans on a daily basis.

For the purpose of the film we follow three different characters - lowly Sierra Leone fisherman turned slave diamond mine work Solomon (an astouding Djimon Hounsou), former solider turned smuggler Archer (DiCaprio) and journo Maddy (Jennifer Connelly). Set against the back drop of a civil war infected Sierre Leone landscape the unfortunate Solomon, cut from his family, finds a perfect pink diamond and before he can be reprimanded by his overseer the civil war kicks in and he is arrested. At the same time Archer is taken to a Freetown jail after getting caught smuggling diamonds hidden in goats into neighbouring Liberia.

Here the action picks up and the running theme of manipulation rears its ugly head. Archer promises to reunite Soloman with his family in exchange for helping him shift hte diamond to one of his contacts while Maddy promises to help Archer if he gives her solid information on why Sierra Leone sells no diamonds but neighbouring Liberai trades millions. The story is an action packed look into a disturbing aspect of African life and the harrowing scenes where Soloman's son Dia is turned from a quiet English student to a ruthless child soldier are particularly resonating.

The story does neatly tie up but not to the point of sickening preachiness, DiCaprio's Rhodesian dialect that seemed so laughable in the trailer really grips you to the character and the only pitfall is the forced love angle with Maddy. The stand out performance is Hounsou as a native Sierra Leone who is fighting for everything that the civil war has cost him.

The film isn't set to change anything in Africa but it will get you thinking about how you can.

Rating: 3/5. As a message it is exceptionally powerful, as a film it is a tad transparent.

 Hot Fuzz (2006), Dir. Edgar Wright

 Where can I get it?: To rent or buy at the front of any shop. Not any shop. Not H Samuels...unless...no. Not H Samuels.

So what?: Those of you who came away from Shaun of the Dead tongues wagging and sat back watching Pegg/Frost/Wright adorn major chat show after chat show will be...befuddled. Yeah it was a box office success - even more so than Shaun...- but it somehow lacks the charm and critical acclaim as the rom-zom-com.

Undoubtedly you know the score: super cop Nicholas Angel (Pegg) is sent to a rural town after he outshines his peers in the Big Smoke. After not fitting in due to his broom-up-his-arse addiction to the law going against the leisurly life of the lax local bobbies, he befriends the loveable oaf Danny (show-stealing Nick Frost). Or more Danny forces himself on our straight-laced hero and they soon stumble across a devious plot where a cloaked figure is mysteriously offing residents. Screaming against a brick wall, Angel is left to solve the problem himself amidst a hail of brutal gunfire and more action pastiches than Last Action Hero while everyone else fails to accept that it is anything more than a curious series of 'accidents'.

Having sat through it for the second time, it may have been the over-reading of it or the confusion of those in attendance but something was lacking. The action was layered on thicker than the first time which served to press the humour into the background. Intertextual references abounded - as with Shaun... - but the cheeky wink had become a full blown bow to those that had gone before them. Pegg and Frost's chemistry is palpable, backed by a who's who of British cinema (including a dark turn for Jim Broadbent) but the story feels too long, especially when Pegg's foes get a second wind and come back to attack. The film is could in a large audience with a humour to be found even at more serious times but it has become an esoteric pocket of comedy that fans of Spaced and Shaun... have come to expect.

Rating: 3/5. Not so hot but full of fuzz.

 Big Nothing (2006), Dir. Jean Baptiste Andrea

Where can I get it?: Out to rent but destined for bargain bins everywhere.

So what?: What is essentially two of the most likeable men in entertainment is nowhere near as good as the sum of its parts. Despite best intentions, and some unique camera work from Andrea, Big Nothing is almost word for word a minimalist description of the piece. Come to think of it, maybe it is a description as it has little or nothing to do with the film.

You've seen it a million times a well meaning guy (Schwimmer's Charlie) meets a fuck up criminal (Pegg's Gus) and they hatch a ridiculous criminal scheme without the know-how to pull it off. Cue fuck up after labourious fuck ups and a series of toe-gripping close encounters and you get the film in a nutshell. Charlie is fired from his call centre job - where he meets Gus - for swearing at a customer. Feeling guilty, as he was the one who gouded him, Gus lets Charlie in on a blackmailing scam involving a preist, credit card receipts from dodgy websites and a little bit of hush money but after the plan goes south they end up with a dead reverend on their hands and one too many people in on it.

The film doesn't really have twists. It has chicanes - slight bends that merely slow down the bumbling juggernaut before reaching its final destinantion. Miled moments of humour do perforate the picture but it does little to hold your attention. Its not all bad, as stated, Pegg and Schwimmer are hard to not like and Charlie...who I keep trying to call Ross...is exceptionally nice while Gus is brutally seedy with Pegg displaying a passable American accent until the dying moments when he screams at Charlie with a slight London drawl.

The film is let down by simple being...average. Everyone is likeable and good but the plot is contrived with about as much spark as a Lorraine Kelly sex tape. Better luck with the next colloboration when Schwimmer will direct Pegg in loser-comedy Run, Fatboy, Run.

Rating: 2/5. Destined to languish in the lower dreggs of Sky Moviemax 4 at midnight on Thursdays.

 Apocalypto (2006), Dir. Mel 'Road Warrior' Gibson

 Where can I get it?: You can rent it or steal the master copy from Mel Gibson's Jesus Compound carved into the side of the Hollywood hills. Your choice really.

 So what?: Fresh from beating Jim Caviezel half to death in the garb of the Lord, Mel Gibson rips back onto the screen with a pulse-racing - if not wholly accuarte - Native American thriller.

Young Jaguar Paw [cool name] (played by Rudy Youngblood [better name]) is put upon to help restore his humble village after he and the majority of menfolk are ravaged, killed or captured by a neighbouring tribe. Faced with extermination by their own people the Native American culture is explored as harrowing circumstances lead our young untested warrior from a simple hunter to the last chance for his dying tribe, as he is put up to be sacrificed by his opposing tribe. What you get is a rip-roaring chase movie as Jaguar Paw attempts to prevent capture and a blood-curdling, if predictable, finale that manages to send a message without Gibson's pechant for preaching.

Now the film isn't an exact look at the life of Mayan tribes people in the pre-colonial era (check the depth of criticism on Wikipedia for proof) but the story of infighting and the collapse of a beautifully rich culture is well told, epic in scale and, above all, entertaining without resorting to bastardizing the product. Gibson has put a lot of stock in building similar epics to the one with which he made his name and even the use of subtitles - as with Passion of the Christ - draw you in rather than dettach you from what is an engrossing and powerful movie with a simple plot in not so familiar surroundings.

Rating: 4/5. Innovative and exciting without an anti-semitic slur in sight.

 Babel (2007), Dir. Alejandro Gonzàlez Iñárritu

 Where can I get it?: Blockbuster for now. Release is imminent.

 So what?:  This would be an excellent film bar one word: Crash. If that film hadn't been made then this would be excellent, inventive piece of crazy business. It follows four different film trends - like Crash - and they all cross different barriers - like Crash - and some major players taking on minor roles - like Crash!

The plot is all mixed and mashed ranging from Morocco to Mexico to America and one alongside in Japan. All linked by a stray bullet from some young Moroccan goatherders leads to a whole heap of shit that they can't really keep focused enough over the 2 and a half hour run time. The Japanese story is the most engrossing - an aggrieved deaf/mute Japanese schoolgirl tries to fit in - but it is also the most irrelevant to the three other interlocking stories.

Brad Pitt is...well Brad Pitt. Its hard to see past the celebrity despite a gripping, low key performance as a struggling husband but there is little chemistry with Cate Blanchett despite their rocky romance. The Mexican story arc is held together by Amelia (Adrianna Barazza), a nanny to small children who is forced to take them over the border to her son's wedding with disastrous consequences.

Key scenes are dependent on mood music and slight embraces that are too minimalist to fit in with the grand scheme of the locations on display. And the locations are excellent, from the stark Morocco outback to the Toyko club scene; it's beautifully shot but not brilliantly executed.

Ultimately, the problem is that not only has ensemble pieces (Syriana, Magnolia, et al) been done to death with the latest abortion of Bobby but this simply reinforces many of the themes seen in Crash about how we are all essential the same even though we have many differences on the surface.

Rating: 3/5. Could have been called Crash 2: World Tour.

Romanzo Criminale (2005), Dir. Michele Placido

Where can I get it?: The dreaded 'world cinema' section of HMV.

So what?:

'Romanzo Criminale' translates as 'Crime Novel'; in English it isn't that catchy really. It's like having a horror film called 'Murder Book' or a rom-com called 'Slushy Pamphlet'. But then the allure is in its Italian origins and not in its translation...this is a quintessential Italian piece from the candour to the cars to the crime to the cappuccino. Well there isn't much cappuccino but ya know.

'Romanzo...' is a crime film in the mould of American classics: 'The Godfather' resonates through in the slow meandering plot, 'Goodfellas' is an obvious parallel with its wealth of characters, 'Once Upon a Time in America's' coming of age band-of-brothers approach is the main theme of the piece. However, 'Romanzo...' is still essentially its own piece but it fails to give more than an Italian spin on things that have gone before.

The plot follows three young hoods under the guidance of Lebanese, his sensitive cohort Ice and the greedy playboy Dandy as they ascend from a rabble of 'stray dogs' to run Rome's underworld in the late 1960s. Lebanese, and his dodgy leg, mastermind their seat of power and keeps them one step ahead of the law snapping at the heels - in part due to a mysterious outsider who keeps Lebanese on the outside in exchange for political favours. The story cleverly intertwines with real events in Italy's past - the Bologna Train Massacre and the kidnapping of the Christian Democrat leader - and keeps them relevant to the plot. However, as with most gangster films the infighting begins and crime isn't such a pretty pursuit. Probably why guidance counsellors never suggest it at school. 

Lebanese (or Pierfrancesco Favino if you want to be a fancy bastard) is brilliantly stern but under utilized and the work falls onto Ice (Kim Rossi Stuart), who is strong at conveying the mixed emotions of someone embroiled in crime and love and believing that they are right in both. Stuart has the fixed expression of someone who has just trod on his dog but you soon lose him as he descends into paranoia. However, the standout performances come from tenacious Commissario Scialoja (Stefano Accorsi) and high class hooker Patrizia (Anna Mouglalis) both bringing an intensity and believability to their contradictory roles.

Somehow even with the relatively long run time and array of characters, the film seems rushed and forced. A shocking moment when a secondary character dies is the height of tedium instead of an intense turning point and you can't help but feel there is an attempt to create mood without actually having any. To be honest, it could have been better (more focus perhaps?) but it isn't exactly terrible. Ultimately, it's a bit more margarita pizza than the fancy one from Dominoes, but if you want flash-bang-fuck-you-in-the-ear rent 'Smokin' Aces' this is a stylistic, period piece with well written characters in flimsy circumstance.*

Rating: 3/5. Crime is the flavour of the day but this isn't exactly filling.

*Do not rent 'Smokin' Aces'.

Jackass Number Two (2006) Dir. Jeff Tremaine

How do I get it?: Out to buy on DVD.

Picking up on the fart-tastic first instalment from 2002, the mad-capped antics of the attention-seeking terrors that form the Jackass crew return to reap a whole new mess of carnage.

Emerging from a plume of dust followed by the haunting 'Ecstasy of Gold' of 'The Good, the Bad and the Ugly' fame, the grinning buffoons reintroduce themselves with vigour as a stampede of bulls crash wildly about a suburban neighbourhood. From there the jokes come thick and fast as each crew member looks to outdo the last from putting a leach on their eyeball, to hunting snakes in a child's ball-pit to marauding as filthy pensioners taunting unknowing Californians.

Problem is...we've seen it all before. In the four years since the last one, the target audience for Jackass has matured, even if they haven't. The countless copycat acts left their antics looking, well, dumb. The laments of the tired and beaten crew as they injure themselves for our amusement fall on deaf ears with it becoming scarily obvious that if one idiot doesn't take the fall another will soon take his place. Chris Pontius stating 'I'm ashamed of myself' after drinking horse 'product' is one such incident that leads the audience to ask who forced him to do it?

That's not to say it isn't enjoyable. Failing to draw the huge belly-laughs of the first, the actual whit of the cast does shine through even if what they are doing doesn't warrant praise. A mindless journey for those of you still looking for the cheapest possible laugh.

Rating: 3/5. Await the inevitable Jackass 3.

London to Brighton (2006), Dir. Paul Andrew Williams

How do I get it?: Out to rent and buy now.

Bleak isn't the word. This is being beaten and bruised and then thrust into a cupboard under the stairs all on celluloid.

Having got all the people worth listening to talking, this indie effort doesn't fail to live up to its high billing. Told in a non-linear style we meet the leads Joanne, a 12 year old runaway, and hooker Kelly, trying to survive for a couple minutes more in a grubby, public toilet in an unknown London-based shithole. Meeting the cast head on it's quick to assert that things aren't going swimmingly for the odd couple and soon they are Brighton bound on an early morning train, black eyes and all.

The twisted narrative style isn't the only fucked up thing on show and soon the menacing Stuart Allen is beating down the door of Kelly's pimp Derrick with redemption etched across his face...and a scalpel in hand. A slow burning game of cat-and-mouse ensues as, the now limping, Derrick and his henchman Chum (who used to be in Dream Team!) track the women down the coast and soon the story unravels with several seedy segments of one fucking warped jigsaw falling into place.

Stand out performances from young Georgia Groome, support is strong from Johnny Harris as Derrick and the intense Sam Spruell. However, they are all over-shadowed by Lorraine Stanley's Kelly, a tart-with-a-heart to the extreme but still very much looking after herself and lacking the one-dimensional portrayal that a role like this would usually get. She doesn't want to help Derrick but has to and fights her conscience to risk everything for a street kid she doesn't know. The characters could have been very easily paper-thin, with the angry pimp, reluctant henchman, streetwise urchin and evil millionaire but there is a weight of intellect added and every member of this low-budget piece is fleshed out to believable and damning lengths.

Not for the week stomached but if you want to be challenged and have grown weary of Scrabble give this a go and soon you'll be walking round London with your hands fixed firmly in your pockets and your head facing forward.

Rating: 4/5. Dark but gripping. Like being hugged by a Gorilla.

The Prestige (2006): Dir. Christopher Nolan

How do I get it?: Buy it now!

Hot on the heels of 'Batman Begins', Nolan assembled a number of those that had breathed fresh life into the Dark Knight (Michael Caine and Christian Bale) and added Wolverine (Hugh Jackman), the Girl with the Pearl Earring (Scarlett Johansson) and Ziggy Stardust (David Bowie) to create a gritty, fantastical tale of obsession and magic.

Late 19^th century London is the home to two aspiring magicians; American showman Angier (Jackman) and cynical spell-binder Borden (Bale) both under the tutelage of old-hand Cutter (Caine). Both young magicians attempt to make a name for themselves from the relative anonymity of being 'plants' in the audience for Milton the Magician but things soon take a turn for the worst when Borden accidentally causes the death of Angier's wife in an escape-act trick and this fuels the fire for an obsessive attempt to destroy each other: both professionally and physically.

Obsession is a central theme, as Angier attempts to upstage the better illusionist in Borden and goes to any length to achieve this. However, success comes at a cost and Angier and Borden begin to alienate themselves from everybody around them with Angier going as far to travel to Colorado to meet the peculiar trick builder Tesla, an enchanting performance by Bowie even with the faux Russian accent. Oh, and keep your peeper's peeled for Tesla's assistant, a very convincing American in Andy Serkis... 'Lord of the Rings' own Gollum now in human form!

Brilliant performances by Jackman and Bane really draw you in and make you ache with anticipation as the story continually turns like a drunk snake playing Twister on a ship in choppy waters. Caine plays his usual stoic council while Johansson passes off as a cockney wench with relative ease. The title 'The Prestige' refers to the three parts of any trick: 'The Pledge', showing something apparently ordinary; 'The Turn', where the magician makes the ordinary extraordinary; and 'The Prestige', where the effect of the illusion is produced. Here, 'The Prestige' is definitely worth waiting for as the pieces of the puzzle fall into place majestically.

Rating: 4/5. Like any trick. Illuminating but don't dwell on it.

Smokin' Aces (2006) Dir. Joe Carnahan

How do I get it?: Borrow it off a chav.

Packed with guns, explosions, blood-filled angst and enough stupid pseudo-gangster names to prop up a whole season of 'The Sopranos' comes a fun, yet ultimately vapid, quest for the heart of Buddy Israel. A huge departure from writer/director Joe Carnahan, whose acclaimed 'Narc' played on low-budget realism, he hits the absolute opposite end of the crime spectrum with this one.

Set against the glitz and glamour of baby Vegas (Lake Tahoe), a bounty of one million dollars is placed on the head of Mob informant Buddy 'Aces' Israel (Jeremy Piven) by a dying Godfather and thus begins a mad-cap race to be the first to collect the bounty. All the boxes are ticked on the character front with two grizzled FBI Agents (Ryan Reynolds and Ray Liotta) charged with getting to Israel before the myriad of gung-ho hit men (and women) succeed in shaking Buddy off his mortal coil.

Among the potential killers are: the Tremor Bros., three demented sociopaths; Lazlo Soot, the sophisticated veteran; Pasquall Acosta, a paramilitary with no fingerprints (don't ask), an unknown 'Swede' and Alicia Keys as one half of an achingly stereotypical pair of female 'hood' killers. Throw in Ben Affleck's band of merry bail-bondsmen and you get an image of the competition out attempting to collect on Israel. And if you're thinking 'that's a lot of people', then you've just uncovered the film's biggest flaw.

The sheer amount of introductions needed take the majority of the opening portion of the film, along with tacky name-plates that come across as 'home-movie'. Also while attempting to have a principle cast competing with the Polyphonic Spree for numbers, you're never going to be able to truly get behind anyone and so the rare moments of sentimentality are out-of-place and wasted in a picture that would fare much better as a balls-out, Bruckheimer-esque, over-the-top epic. Entertaining but instantly forgettable.

Rating: 2/5. Subtle as a brick in the small of your back.