Layer Cake (2004)

"Layer Cake? Who's in that? Daniel Craig? Nope, never heard of him." – lots of people, circa 2005

Okay, so it's not a quote I can attribute to anyone in particular, but I did hear it a lot after first seeing Matthew Vaughn's enjoyable British gangster flick in mid-2005. Just a few months later, Craig was announced as the sixth actor to take on the role of a certain enduring spy icon, and the rest, as they say, is history.

The actor's new-found fame and hit-and-miss choice of non-Bond vehicles (most recently, the not-quite-good-enough Defiance) makes Layer Cake, Craig's biggest starring role at the time, fascinating viewing. The actor seldom phones in his performances, and this is no exception.

Based on J J Connolly's novel of the same name, Layer Cake sees Craig play an unnamed drug dealer (Mr X) with ambitions to retire on the fortunes he has made in what he considers a legitimate business. However, when Mr X's boss gives him an unconventional assignment, his world is turned upside down by the chain of events it sets in motion.

While the film starts off superficially glorifying the dealing of drugs (though it's not afraid to show the consequences facing drug users), Layer Cake adheres to the gangster flick staple that sees most of its characters shuffling off their mortal coil before the end credits roll, ensuring no-one will leave the cinema plotting an illicit career change.

Vaughn, who produced Guy Ritchie's Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels and Snatch, delivers a film that's tonally similar to Ritchie's acclaimed gangster flicks: there's a large cast of characters, a convoluted story, an absolutely killer soundtrack, some quotable lines and plenty of violence. However, Vaughn succeeds in toning down the excesses of Ritchie's flicks – the editing is slicker and less obtrusive – offering a tighter story in lieu of an abundance of style.

Layer Cake is a movie that warrants repeat viewings to fully unravel its intricate plot. I watched the film this weekend, having not seen it in a couple of years, only to find myself a bit lost in parts; the story takes unexpected diversions before giving us flashbacks later on to fill in the gaps. It's an unusual storytelling style, and one that requires a bit of extra attention.

The performances are all perfectly adequate, but it's clear that Craig carries the film as the enigmatic Mr X. It's another great performance from the actor. I caught Layer Cake as rumours of Craig's casting as Bond were swirling – this film completely sold me on his talents.

As X's potential love interest, Sienna Miller need only have shown up and looked pretty; needless to say, she effortlessly pulls this off. Similar could be said of the rest of the cast (except for the bit about looking pretty), including Michael Gambon, Colm Meaney and Kenneth Cranham: no-one's a revelation, but no-one lets the side down either. They all do what's required of them.

Which, come to think of it, is precisely what Layer Cake does: it might not reach the heights of Snatch or the brilliant In Bruges, but it ticks all the right boxes as a worthwhile addition to the British gangster genre.

Assorted Oscar observations

I sat up last night watching a delayed telecast of the Academy Awards. Having already read the winners, it was a bit like watching Titantic: not only does it drag on and on, but you already know how it ends.

Random thoughts:

• A hugely predictable ceremony with no real surprises. Not that I expected any. The winners for all the major categories lined up with my own predictions, which I should have posted here, so that you'd believe this statement. As a result of moving countries during Oscar season, I'm yet to catch a number of the nominated films, but I look forward to doing so over the coming weeks.
• In particular, I really need to see Slumdog Millionaire.
• Deserving win #1: WALL•E. With Kung Fu Panda picking up a few recent awards, I was a little worried for Pixar's romantic robot. If it weren't for the film's frenetic second half, I'd have liked to have seen it up for the big award: Best Picture. I also hoped WALL•E would take home Best Song, too, for Peter Gabriel's superb "Down To Earth". Alas, it was not to be.
• Speaking of Best Song, did anyone else find it a bit weird that they had there was a great, big sing-off of the three songs in contention? Should they do this for the other categories too? Imagine Sean Penn, Mickey Rourke, Richard Jenkins, Frank Langella and Brad Pitt – all in their respective characters – hamming it up on stage together. Maybe it's not such a bad idea after all...
• Deserving win #2: Heath Ledger. A truly touching moment during an evening of what is ostensibly self-congratulatory back-slapping. For those who feel Ledger was only awarded the trophy because of his unfortunate death, go back and watch The Dark Knight again: it's a powerhouse performance.
• Alan Arkin called Phillip Seymour Hoffman "Seymour Phillip Hoffman" during his nomination speech. Whoops!
• I miss seeing clips from the films when the nominated actors are announced: I don't know if Christopher Walken really thinks so highly of Michael Shannon.
• Deserving win #3: Man on Wire. Probably the best documentary I've ever seen.
• A note on the host: maybe it was because the sound on the telecast was mixed so that you couldn't hear the audience's reaction, but there came a point during Hugh Jackman's credit crunch-themed opening song when he stuck his head through a hole in a cardboard wall just above a headless baby doll to eerie silence. "This is all a bit tragic," I thought to myself.
• Every time the Nine Network cut to an ad break, they played music that sounded suspiciously like Dr Evil's theme from Austin Powers.
• Looking forward, there was a pretty neat clip-fest showcasing some of 2009's biggest releases.

The Simpsons’ title sequence gets a facelift

It's been 20 years since The Simpsons debuted, forever changing the face of primetime television. With the long-running cartoon sitcom finally taking the high definition plunge, its iconic opening title sequence has been given a permanent 21st century makeover.

When I heard the sequence had been changed, I instantly worried that they'd butchered a classic, and the programme's slow but evident fall from grace would finally be complete. However, I'm pleased to report that The Simpsons' makers have actually outdone themselves: it's a winner!

At its core, it's the same sequence, but the opening has been completely updated with characters and gags more faithfully the show's 20-season history. Gone are appearances from early players like Bleeding Gums Murphy (who?), replaced by cameos from regular characters, including Ralph Wiggum, the gun-toting Texan, Apu's octuplets and Hans Moleman. Some of my choice gags to watch out for: a billboard featuring a forlorn Krusty flogging funerals, and the products that comprise Marge's grocery shopping.

Like most people, I used to be an avid viewer of The Simpsons, but its declining quality over recent years, coupled with the dual resurrections of Futurama and Family Guy, has given me less incentive to check out what was once staple viewing. However, I caught a recent episode (in which Nelson befriends Bart) while in transit from Honolulu to Sydney and was pleasantly surprised at its quality (the show is almost always at its best during its more human episodes).

The high gag rate of The Simpsons' new opening sequence actually has me hankering to sit down and watch some new instalments of TV's original dysfunctional, non-prehistoric cartoon family.

Angels and Basterds get trailers

Trailers for two of my most-anticipated films for 2009 have found their way onto the world wide web this week.

First up is Angels & Demons, the prequel-cum-sequel to Dan Brown's love-it-or-hate-it religious thriller, The Da Vinci Code. As I've written elsewhere on this blog, I really liked Ron Howard's film adaptation of The Da Vinci Code; it's not flawless, but there's plenty to enjoy, and it certainly didn't deserve the critical mauling it received upon its release.

That said, Angels & Demons is the superior book. There's less historical exposition, a tighter story and more action (I'm keen to see how the film handles one particularly fanciful stunt). The trailer's pretty standard for an action flick – it's the usual mish-mash of confusingly out-of-context quotes accompanied by a rising choral soundtrack – but I have high hopes for the film.

Tom Hanks returns as Robert Langdon (sans the hardly noticeable but inexplicably controversial mullet), joined by Ewan McGregor, Ayelet Zurer and Stellan Skarsgård.

With Howard breaking news this week that Brown has finished work on the third Langdon book (working title: The Solomon Key), expect Angels & Demons to be the second of a trilogy if it makes a wad of cash.

Personally, I'm still hanging out for a Deception Point adaptation.

Meanwhile, Inglourious Basterds (yes, that's the correct spelling) is shaping up to be a return-to-form for Quentin Tarantino. After the misstep that was his Robert Rodriguez collaboration Grindhouse (more of a throwaway curiosity than enduring cinema), the controversial filmmaker is back with this long-in-development World War II epic: Tarantino's first self-contained movie since 1997's Jackie Brown.

Inglourious Basterds, partly based on the more literate 1978 Italian film Inglorious Bastards, sees a group of soldiers dropped into Nazi-occupied France posing as civilians. The trailer focusses on a Brad Pitt (who looks to have given a terrific performance) making a long-winded speech to his troops about collecting Nazi scalps. Vintage Tarantino in the making.

Australia’s information roundabout

Well, I'm back – and even more bitter than before, thanks to the debacle it's been to have our Internet connected.

After faffing about in a fruitless attempt to decipher the phone companies' incomprehensible Internet plans (and I'm kind of tech-savvy – a computer-illiterate person would give up in seconds), we finally went with Dodo, who, I've decided, ought to be as extinct as their moniker.

Earlier this week, we signed up to their extortionate wireless service ($45 for just six gigabytes per month – and that's only because we signed a 24-month contract; it would have otherwise been a paltry three gigs). Today, I awoke (at 9:30 – hey, I'm unemployed!) to the sound of the courier buzzing the intercom: our modem had arrived!

Having been Internet-less for over a week (I'd started getting the shakes), I excitedly tore open the package to see some pathetic little USB stick and a cable; we'd been given a "mobile wireless pack", rather than the Wifi modem we wanted. Consequently, just one of us can use the Internet at a time, and to do so, we need to connect the USB, do a bunch of clicking and enter our password. Even compared to our occasionally-reliable service in Alberta, this has been pathetic.

I spent hours on the phone to Dodo this morning trying to set it straight that this wasn't what I wanted, but with no luck. In fact, I was told that the contract stands and the fact that a mobile wireless modem wasn't what I asked for "isn't reason enough to cancel a contract". Unbelievable.

I'm floored at a) how much Australia's phone companies get away with; and b) how far behind the rest of the world we are in this area. In Canada, we parted with about $20 a month for way more than this; plus, we didn't have to fork out for the modem as well. And there was no contract.

Australia's information superhighway is like one big roundabout. With the amount of companies vying for business, you'd think the competition would drive prices way down. But, no.

Similarly, in the Web 2.0 age of extensive social networking on Facebook, video-calling on Skype and streaming clips from YouTube among an increasing amount of online activity, why are Australia's Internet companies seemingly making zero progress? The industry seems to be going in ever-decreasing circles, driving around a bewildered public, herding us up like helpless lambs to the slaughter.

If I sound frustrated, I am: mind you, if I'd have written about this earlier today, the cyber-air would have been blue. Though I probably would have been charged extra for swearing.

Station break

We interrupt your completely unscheduled programming as I frantically try to establish a new life in Sydney, Australia.

More shallow ramblings to come as soon as I negotiate the ridiculously complex pricing schemes for wireless Internet in my apartment.

Tropic Thunder (2008)

First things first: if Robert Downey Jr. ever disappears from cinema again, I will be one unhappy chappy. Despite getting third billing behind Jack Black and Ben Stiller (who is also credited here with co-writing, co-producing and directing), Downey owns Tropic Thunder. He plays an Australian actor who gets so involved in his roles that he undergoes major pigmentation surgery in order to play a black man; it's a unique hook for a character and Downey is incredibly convincing in selling it. Like Heath Ledger's scene-stealing supporting role in The Dark Knight, the hype for Downey in Tropic Thunder is justified. His Oscar nomination is every bit as worthy as Ledger's.

Downey is part of a motley crew of actors abandoned in the Vietnamese forest by their director (an underused Steve Coogan) in an attempt to reign in an over-budget and behind-schedule war film. When the actors come across a gang of real-life drug runners, they debate whether the encounter is all part of the script and a series of fairly amusing misunderstandings ensues.

It's a high-concept comedy that, despite a crowd-pleasing cast of Stiller, Black, Downey, Coogan, Nick Nolte, Matthew McConaughey, and an unrecognisable Tom Cruise in an extended cameo, manages to be pretty offensive on a number of levels; this isn't family fare. The key is to remember that while Tropic Thunder seems to poke fun at taboo subjects such as disabilities, homosexuality and war, it's mostly taking sly digs at the representation of these subjects in Hollywood.

In fact, this is when Tropic Thunder is at its best: parodying Hollywood. Preceded by a handful of superb mock trailers (including one which hilariously juxtaposes Downey's "five-time Academy Award winner Kirk Lazarus" with "MTV Movie Award Best Kiss winner Tobey Maguire", who cameos as himself), Tropic Thunder opens with an extended action sequence from the film-within-a-film. It's a genuinely amusing take on the war genre: the camera lingers for far too long on the gore and dramatic sequences are way overplayed. When Tropic Thunder takes on the Hollywood machine – from Oscar-grabbing fare to blockbuster sequels – it's on fine form.

Unfortunately, once the cast realises the film they're shooting isn't a film at all, the satire makes way for average gags and the movie ceases to be particularly funny. Downey remains captivating, the locations look terrific (Hawaii doubles for Vietnam) and Tom Cruise's cameo stays shocking right until the credits roll (if only because it's Tom Cruise), but without the Hollywood mickey-taking, Tropic Thunder is just a slightly-above-average big-budget comedy.

Put a sock in It

Beyoncé Knowles' "Single Ladies (Put a Ring on It)": possibly the most irritating song of the decade. And this is the decade that gave us the Crazy Frog.

Every time I hear Beyoncé's vocalised hyperventilating, I feel like tearing my ears off with my bare hands.

Worst of all, it's one of those annoying songs that's frustratingly catchy, so even after its mercifully brief three minutes has run its course, the torture lingers. It's a bit like getting a paper cut; it's short, sharp and painful, but it hurts like hell for ages.

Oh, you know it does.

The Trial of Tony Blair (2007)

The year is 2010 and former British Prime Minister Tony Blair is summoned to the Hague to face war crimes charges over his involvement in the Iraq invasion. That's the premise of The Trial of Tony Blair, a satirical Channel 4 telemovie first broadcast in 2007.

The Trial of Tony Blair's "what if?" premise is an intriguing notion, reminiscent of the conceit of faux-documentary Death of a President. However, The Trial of Tony Blair eschews any kind of realism for blatantly opinionated farce. It's a missed opportunity to delve into the mind of the embittered former PM. The film is a political mouthpiece and nothing more.

The Trial of Tony Blair begins with Blair (Robert Lindsay) handing over power to Gordon Brown in the run-up to the 2010 general election. Lindsay's Blair is a far-fetched caricature of the man, obsessed with his own legacy and increasingly tortured over his hand in the war in Iraq. It's a worthwhile performance, but, in light of the script, Lindsay's Blair is reduced to a buffoon of a man. (In the apparent interests of balance, Alexander Armstrong cameos as an out-of-touch David Cameron, but his appearances are too fleeting and disconnected to mask the film's political agenda.)

With Brown elected, Blair spends his days lost, waiting for phone calls from the likes of Bill Gates and Hillary Clinton (who has been elected President of the United States). He longs for the power and importance of his previous position. Cherie Blair, played coldly by Phoebe Nicholls, also becomes discontent with her new life. As it becomes increasingly likely that Tony Blair will face trial, the political forces that brought him to power and that now lie in the hands of others begin to turn against him.

There are plenty of elements the film gets right. Blair and Brown's abhorrence for each other is engaging stuff, particularly when Brown decides to hang Blair out to dry in an attempt to distance himself from the Blair/Bush era of politics. Later in the film, Blair is called to the US embassy hopeful of being offered some kind of position, only to be told that Hillary Clinton, who is due to embark on her second term campaign, will be spouting some nasty things about Blair in order to similarly disassociate herself from the war in Iraq – even though the US will continue to support Blair at the Hague.

When The Trial of Tony Blair makes these kind of jabs at the political scene, it really hits the mark; it's a dirty world where enemies can be anywhere. As if to illustrate this, there's a terrific scene in which Gordon Brown (a pouty Peter Mullan) is put in his place by a pair of children during a media tour of a primary school ("Are you the one my dad says is a born loser?" one child innocently asks).

Though the satire is mostly painted with far too broad strokes, when the movie arrives at the event in its title, the filmmakers skip off without exploring the trial itself. The movie's obvious political stance leaves little doubt as to how the trial would have turned out, but at a brisk 72 minutes, The Trial of Tony Blair feels like it's missing the vital third act.

Where Death of a President presented a bold, compelling and – crucially – neutral examination of a world leader's decisions, The Trial of Tony Blair takes the easy road to deliver a film that, while entertaining, is disappointingly shallow in its execution.

Lost: Season 5 (2009)

Spoilers for Lost: Season 5 ("Jughead")

It's best to consider Lost as the most demanding – yet rewarding – jigsaw puzzle you have ever tackled. Its story is a rich, growing tapestry of flashbacks, flashforwards and flashes in time that are slowly piecing together to form a beautiful, detailed image. It's a slow, often frustrating process, but when that piece you've been agonising over for so long finally slots into place, the reward is a giddy, euphoric feeling.

Three episodes into its penultimate season and Lost has made finally made the leap into fully-blown science fiction territory, adding another dimension to its already complex narrative. So imagine that lovely flat jigsaw you've been working on is actually one of those funky 3D puzzles.

Casual fans may turn their noses up at this season's principal theme of time travel, but from the moment that thunderous monster began tearing up large patches of jungle in the pilot episode, Lost was showing its sci-fi hand. Its current state is the result of a very natural progression.

While last season's phenomenal Desmond-centric episode, "The Constant" proved that time travel exists in the Lost universe, the fifth season has taken that idea and ran with it. It's a bold move, but the show has danced around the notion for so long that it was an inevitable development.

"Because You Left", this year's season-opener, plunged viewers headfirst into a four-year-long mystery and made no apologies for doing so. If you'd never seen Lost before, lost is precisely what you'd have been. But if you have watched Lost, and watched it devotedly, it was a brilliant continuation of all the themes and characters that have made the show such compulsive viewing.

The second episode, Hurley-centric "The Lie", slowed things down a touch; the cursed lottery winner has always been one of the most relatable characters on the show. It also featured a great expanded role for Hurley's father, played by Cheech Marin. Meanwhile, "Jughead", episode number three, continued the show's run of virtually flawless Desmond episodes. Oh, and I'd like to note that eccentric scientist Daniel Faraday, who I initially felt was overplayed by Jeremy Davies, is developing into one of the most intriguing characters on the show.

Lost has always been an ensemble programme, and that's never been truer than in the fifth season. After just three episodes, there's already been a list of returning guest stars long enough to bewilder anyone but the most ardent of fans. However, as that's precisely what I am, it's thrilling telly. If you struggle to keep up with who's who among the regular cast, good luck remembering returning characters like Ms Hawking, the enigmatic antique saleswoman who convinced Desmond that travelling to the island and pushing the button was his destiny (gibberish to non-fans) in an episode two years back.

If that wasn't enough, this season's new storytelling format that sees the remaining castaways visiting the island at various points in its past really requires viewers to brush up on Lost history (Lostory?). However, that's all part of the fun of unravelling the show's labyrinthine plot. With the island constantly shifting in time, the producers have given themselves the broadest canvas imaginable for exploring the island's past – and future.

Lost has long since become impenetrable for new viewers hoping to make heads or tails of its intricate plot, but that's precisely what makes it such a rewarding viewing experience. Pick up the DVD box sets and get stuck into it. And if you're really struggling with the Lost jigsaw, consider Lostpedia – a wiki entirely devoted to the television series – as the puzzle box from which you can cheat.

Unreal estate

I can't believe what a spirit-crushing ordeal it is to find an apartment to rent in Sydney.

My girlfriend and I arrived in Australia's commonly-misconceived capital last week full of the hopes and dreams of a couple of, er, hopeful, dreaming people. Within hours of beginning our quest for accommodation, we were dumbstruck at the sheer amount of mind-boggling bureaucracy one needs to negotiate in order to find a home. These tiresome proceedings were compounded by the fact that, like my former home, London, Sydney is bursting with people, all of whom selfishly need a place to put their heads at night.

The first apartment we visited featured – as a poncy real estate agent might phrase it – a cosy interior, well-loved carpet, matured walls, antique bathroom fixtures, great security and a stunning view of some local artwork.

In actual fact, we were viewing a tiny apartment featuring beaten-up carpet, yellowed walls, bathroom fixtures that seemingly pre-dated the invention of bathroom fixtures and steel bars covering all the windows, while the whole thing overlooked some prime examples of possibly the most pointless crime imaginable, graffiti. In short, it was a bit too close to a prison for my discerning tastes.

We were just a handful of nearly 30 people that turned out to inspect this dive. It took approximately 45 seconds before we made a beeline for the front door. A few others did the same, but application forms were still being handed out left, right and centre. People were literally lining up to live in the lap of dilapidation, all for the princely sum of $380 per week! Incredible.

We did end up applying for five places in various Sydney suburbs, including Glebe, Newtown, Camperdown, Rozelle and Waterloo, but the application process is baffling to say the least. I was under the misguided impression that it would be as simple as inspecting an apartment, saying that you'd take it, having them run whatever checks they need to to prove that you're not an axe-wielding maniac on the run from the law and they'd hand you the keys.

I didn't anticipate slews of paperwork interrogating you about the minutiae of your entire life – all for just the application; this isn't even the contract! After a single day's house-hunting, my hand became so overworked from filling in forms that I was beginning to doubt whether I'd be able to even turn the doorknob of the house I may or may not have successfully applied for.

And since when was a passport proof enough of your identification for a government to let you into its country but not for some smarmy real estate agent tosspot to let you apply for a six-month lease?

Nevertheless, we got the call today that we were approved for our first choice of apartment. Makes my vehement rant seem a bit unjustified, but it's my blog and I'll rant if I damn well want to.