Star Trek (2009)

In the wake of the bland and forgettable X-Men Origins: Wolverine, J.J. Abrams' Star Trek is refreshing proof that there's still life in the old prequel/origin concept.

The punchy title of this, the eleventh entry in the Star Trek series, reflects the confident, stripped-back nature of the film. Gone are the unattractive roman numerals, indicating an impenetrable byzantine storyline, along with the confusing subtitles referring to incidents and characters that further alienated casual viewers.

Star Trek (re)introduces us to Captain James T. Kirk (Chris Pine), Spock (Zachary Quinto), Dr Leonard "Bones" McCoy (Karl Urban), Nyota Uhura (Zoe Saldaña) and the rest of the crew of the U.S.S. Enterprise as they meet for the first time at the Starfleet Academy.

However, the gang's first mission puts them to the ultimate test when they come up against a band of time-travelling Romulans (lead by Eric Bana's Captain Nero) hellbent on destroying Earth by using a drill containing an element called red matter that will open up a black hole when placed in the planet's core. Or something. To be honest, it's too convoluted to even bother taking the storyline seriously.

Despite this, the reimagined Trek (re)creates an entire universe that isn't worlds apart from our own. Wisely setting much of its action on Earth, Star Trek is populated by flawed heroes. Kirk, for instance, is strong-willed but cocky, while Spock is constantly conflicted by his mixed heritage.

The cast do a superb job of resurrecting classic characters, embodied for decades by the same actors. Pine and Quinto are particular highlights; neither opt to ape their predecessors, but both manage to retain the key elements that made the characters so iconic in the first place. Leonard Nimoy gives a heartfelt but contrived cameo as an older Spock, providing a neat link to the franchise's roots. Simon Pegg's hyperactive Scotty and Bana's forgettable Nero may be the only casting bum notes.

Rich in the themes that often dominate J.J. Abrams' TV work – chiefly, destiny – Star Trek's script ingeniously uses its central plot device of time travel to create a parallel timeline that effectively wipes clean anything made canon in the old Trek, and creates great potential for future instalments. Sure, the action and special effects dominate, but Roberto Orci and Alex Kurtzman's script ensures things move along so swiftly – and with enough humour – that the whole affair is never anything other than fun.

Yes, the geeks-only Star Trek franchise has been given a terrific Casino Royale-esque reboot. But whereas Casino Royale injected new life into a series that was still bringing in the big bucks, J.J. Abrams' Star Trek successfully reinvigorates a franchise that had previously appealed only to an increasingly narrow audience.

And once Leonard Nimoy delivers that immortal voiceover from the original Star Trek series during the film's final reel – like Daniel Craig's triumphant delivery of 007's famous introduction at the end of Casino Royale – it's evident that the series has truly become reborn.

The Chaser become the chased (updated)

Satirical comedy team The Chaser have landed themselves in the media's bloodthirsty spotlight once again thanks to a sketch on last night's episode of The Chaser's War on Everything.

The sketch in question spoofed the Make a Wish Foundation in the form of a mock advertisement for a Make a Realistic Wish foundation, in which the dying wishes of children were turned down in favour of more practical gifts.

The backlash against the comedy troupe now seems to be in full force following last week's episode – the first new show in 18 months – which drew criticism about nearly every segment, most of which was ridiculously misguided.

Likewise, most of the complaints levelled at last night's show seem equally misjudged. It's daft to believe that The Chaser team created the sketch in anything but an absurdist sense, eliciting humour from the blackness of the subject matter and nothing else.

Criticisms have been as varied as charity foundations claiming it will make viewers think twice before enlisting their services to children being upset at the broadcast. Of course the show's creators aren't dissing the work of such charitable organisations, and of course they aren't mocking terminally ill children. The comments also raise the question of why children are being allowed to watch post-watershed programs.

Most of all, though, it beggars belief as to why those complaining would continue to watch a show with a history of pushing the envelope and generating controversy and, in doing so, submit themselves to be so easily offended. Vote with your remote.

I first saw the sketch on Tuesday at the taping of last night's episode – you can catch my brief audience cameo about 17 minutes into last night's show – and would never have imagined the sketch would generate this kind of response. Of course, the media know how to create an outrage; the questions aimed at Chaser member Craig Reucassel during a media scrum this afternoon were as biased and unbalanced as they come. Likewise, was our Prime Minister ever going to express anything but disdain for the sketch, despite never having actually seen it?

It's unlikely the hubbub will end here. It's nothing new, after all – who could forget the reaction to the infamous Eulogy Song? And with a further eight episodes to go, there's little doubt that the media will continue to stoke The Chaser's fire for the sake of shifting more papers, scoring more website hits and grabbing higher ratings.

Update (5 June 2009)

Looks like it's the ABC who has voted with their remote – the broadcaster has pulled The Chaser's War on Everything for the next two weeks pending a review of the show's editorial process. The comedy team have responded to the ban on their official site: "We're disappointed by the decision and we don't agree with it."

In their apology, however, the team state what should have been obvious as they explain why the sketch was unworthy of the scuffle that erupted surrounding it.

We never imagined that the sketch would be taken literally. We don't think sick kids are greedy and we don't think the Make a Wish Foundation deserves anything other than praise. It was meant to be so over-the-top that no one would ever take it seriously.

Precisely. I'm largely opposed to censorship in any form, and this ban sets a dangerous precedent whereby any potentially edgy (and thus, potentially offensive) comedy could be considered unfit for broadcast. It's another victory for politically-correct moral crusaders, bent on taking any kind of free will out of the public's hands and transforming the country into a nanny state as a result of knee-jerk reactions designed to provoke drama. Of all the ills of the world to fight against... Where will it end? Even when the forcibly watered-down Chaser's War On Everything returns in two weeks, I suspect it won't be then.

Personally, I'm a big fan of Charlie Brooker's counter-complaint solution, concocted in light of the Jonathan Ross/Russell Brand ruckus late last year, which beautifully speaks for itself...

Maybe, just maybe, it's time to establish "Counter-Complaints": a method of registering your complaint about the number of knee-jerk complaints. And one should cancel out the other - so if 25,000 people complain, and a further 25,000 counter-complain, the total number of complaints is zero. It might lead to a lot of fruitless button-mashing, but at least we can keep our shared national culture relatively sane.

Just When We Are Safest (1996)

A couple of months back, I wrote of how I often associate the book I'm reading with where I obtained it. That I bought Reg Gadney's Just When We Are Safest in a tiny bookstore in a small English town on a typically rainy day is particularly fitting, given the spy novel's grim, British setting.

The first – and apparently, only decent – instalment in Gadney's Alan Rosslyn series, Just When We Are Safest is a far cry from the overblown adventures of 007 and other fantasised spies. Instead, Gadney presents a still-muddied post-Cold War world in which the British secret service is mired in rivalry and corruption.

When Rosslyn, fresh off the back of the arrest of one of the IRA's most dangerous criminals, witnesses the brutal murder of his lover, Mary Walker, he becomes entangled in a terrorist plot aimed at the very heart of MI5.

Just When We Are Safest's characters are well drawn, with Gadney spending a surprising amount of time fleshing out his key antagonist, Anna McKeague. Rosslyn, meanwhile, is a wonderfully conflicted character, battling a case that's becoming increasingly personal.

It's a largely character-driven story, as Rosslyn treks over the British countryside interrogating suspects on the trail of his lover's killers. Gadney is proficient at capturing the novel's moody, sullen atmosphere; there's virtually no levity here. The book's climax, in which Rosslyn wades through murky sewerage in an attempt to access MI5's Lambeth headquarters undetected, is an apt culmination of this bleak, dark and often brilliant spy thriller.

X-Men Origins: Wolverine (2009)

I was anticipating a leisurely Saturday afternoon at the cinema. Having left home in good time, I drove to Westfield Bondi Junction to discover utter chaos in the carpark. After twenty minutes of dizzying circling in a desperate attempt to find a parking space, I looked at my watch and questioned whether I would ever make it to see X-Men Origins: Wolverine.

I finally found a spot somewhere in the earth's outer core and did that awkward-looking half-walk-half-run to the movie theatre. Only then did I realise I'd still made it to the cinema in time to catch the last twenty minutes of advertisements before the film began. Enduring countless commercials, each more irritating than the last, I found myself once again wondering whether I would ever see Wolverine.

Sadly, my journey to the cinema contained more uncertainty and more suspense than the entirity of the latest instalment of the X-Men cashcow.

The greatest hurdle of the origin film is to surprise the audience with a story of which they already know the outcome. In the case of X-Men Origins: Wolverine – a prequel – it's a particularly lofty barrier, given we've already seen Hugh Jackman's sideburned mutant slash and scream his way through three earlier (or later, I guess) films of varying quality.

Director Gavin Hood, from a script by David Benioff and Skip Woods, sadly seems to skip over possibly the most compelling period of James Logan's life in a gritty credits sequence that sees the ill-tempered mutant fighting his way through the 20th century's numerous wars alongside his fiery half-brother Victor Creed (Liev Schreiber). Instead, the bulk of the film is concerned with Logan's involvement with a group of forgettable mutants led by Danny Huston's equally forgettable William Stryker (so coldly played by Bryan Cox in the excellent X-Men 2) and his relationship with his half-brother.

In hiring Hood, who helmed the terrific Tsotsi, I'd hoped for a more cerebral superhero film, akin to Christopher Nolan's potential-filled Batman Begins. Unfortunately, Wolverine is lumbered with the kind of overwhelming CGI, over-choreographed fight scenes and underdeveloped characters that are the hallmarks of lesser comic book adaptations (see: Fantastic Four, Daredevil, Spider-man 3). Even Brett Ratner's much-maligned X-Men: The Last Stand contains more panache than that which is on display here.

The film's key moment, naturally, comes when Logan agrees to participate in the surgery that causes his skeleton to be bonded with an indestructible metal called adamantium. Or something. But having already seeing Jackman (and Troye Sivan as a young Logan) brandish his claws and scream skywards several times before this point, the only real transformation the character appears to undergo is aesthetic.

Suitably, this is Jackman's film, and he does a fairly admirable job of carrying it. Unlike the previous films' reliance on an ensemble cast, only Schreiber and Huston could be considered to have supporting roles here, with the remainder of the picture's characters reduced to mere cameos. Lost stars Dominic Monaghan and Kevin Durand make brief appearances as Bradley (a mutant who can manipulate electricity) and the Blob (clue's in the title) respectively, while Lynn Collins plays Wolverine's romantic interest. Ryan Reynolds, who appears in roughly five minutes of film as Deadpool, is reportedly being considered for his own spin-off, though there's little indication here as to why it would be a worthwhile investment of anyone's time. Only Taylor Kitsch leaves any kind of impression with his sassy interpretation of Gambit.

A post-credits scene points towards an already-announced sequel that will take the character to the Far East where he will hopefully meet characters more interesting and have adventures more gripping than those presented here. Whichever film comes first – be it this prequel-spin-off-sequel, the Deadpool flick, or the infinitely more appealing Magneto spin-off – it's apparent that the X-Men franchise needs to undergo a more exhaustive transformation than that which Wolverine endures here.

The Boat That Rocked (2009)

The scent of fresh popcorn wafts through the cinema as a throng of people march their way across the unnaturally sticky floor before getting settled into their seats and noisily wrestling with bags of M&Ms. Everyone's wallets are (a frankly absurd) $16.50 lighter, but no-one is complaining. It could only mean one thing: Summer Blockbuster Season™ is here!

Or there, rather. There being the northern hemisphere. Here, we're lumbered with the somehow less exciting winter blockbuster season. Still, doesn't really matter what the weather's like outside, right? This is the time to sit back, relax and enjoy popular cinema at its most popular.

So, you ask, which balls-to-the-wall, special effects-laden, action-fest did I kick off with? X-Men Origins: Wolverine? Star Trek? Angels & Demons? How about the latest film from the man behind Love, Actually and Four Weddings and a Funeral? Aren't I a good boyfriend?

To be fair, the association with these and the other romantic comedies on Richard Curtis' CV doesn't do justice to The Boat That Rocked, which is an unabashed ode to rock and roll.

It's the mid-1960s, a time of political upheaval, as Great Britain embraces a more liberal lifestyle. One of the key figures is the pirate radio station, Radio Rock, broadcast from a ship in the North Sea populated by a motley crew who burst out one popular track after another to the enjoyment of millions of listeners and the irritation of the country's conservative government.

Our ticket onboard Radio Rock comes via Carl (Tom Sturridge) who is sent there by his mother (Emma Thompson). She claims it's to be with his godfather (Bill Nighy, just being Bill Nighy), but there may be a deeper reason for it.

Essentially an ensemble comedy, Curtis' script flits between the exploits of boat's boisterous male crew members, including Nick Frost, Tom Brooke, Chris O'Dowd, Rhys Darby, Ralph Brown, Phillip Seymour Hoffman and Rhys Ifans. Onshore, Kenneth Branagh (as MP Dormandy) manipulates Jack Davenport's ambitious civil servant, Twatt (the name of whom may be the film's cheapest laugh), into finding some way to legally shut down Radio Rock for good.

Whereas Love, Actually (possibly the only romantic comedy I can stomach) worked by showing its large cast of characters through a series of vignette-type set-ups, The Boat That Rocked isn't nearly as deft in its handling of such a diverse group, even with its bloated 129 minute runtime. There are moments when the story really begins to gather steam before it suddenly changes direction to focus on a different shipmate.

Despite the muddled storytelling, the cast serve as well as one would expect in a light-hearted comedy such as this. While there are no real stand-out performances, O'Dowd, Branagh, Darby and Hoffman are among the most memorable stars. Special mention, too, ought to go to Ralph Brown's early morning DJ Bob, a man so reclusive his fellow crew members remain unaware that he's actually onboard; Brown's understated turn is the picture's real heart.

Props to Curtis for finding a unique premise and setting for a comedy flick, which the film exploits to the fullest extent. Indeed, The Boat That Rocked's final act, in which the ship's crew decide to evade capture by pulling up anchor, is perhaps its strongest.

Fans of the era's music will no doubt find much to enjoy, even if the film is positively slathered in sentimentality. It may be adrift more often than it steers the course, but The Boat That Rocked is the kind of inoffensive gender-mutual date film that will likely entertain most but be remembered by few.

The Da Vinci Code (2006)

In anticipation of Angels & Demons, the prequel-cum-sequel to The Da Vinci Code, a few weeks back, I revisited Ron Howard's adaptation of the second Robert Langdon bestseller.

Unless you've spent the last three years living under a rock, which was, itself, situated under an even bigger rock, you'll be aware of the critical mauling Howard's film received upon its release; the picture was reportedly booed at by critics attending its premiere at the 2006 Cannes film festival.

At the time, I dismissed the claims as Tall Poppy Syndrome at work. With Dan Brown's books seemingly shifting more copies than there are human beings to read them, the time was right to cast aspersions on the man's work. Bizarrely, Tom Hanks' hairstyle even came under heavy fire. But was it deserving of the attacks? (The film, not Tom Hanks' hair.)

In this viewer's eyes, no. However, it must be said that the film version of The Da Vinci Code, in spite of (or perhaps because of) an unwavering devotion to its source material, is a rather different beast to The Da Vinci Code, the novel. Where Brown's page-turning yarn takes its readers along for the ride, allowing us to solve the book's numerous riddles alongside symbologist Robert Langdon and cryptographer Sophie Neveu as we swiftly precede through one brief chapter after another, Howard's adaptation is comparatively languid in pace.

It's a key difference, and one that it appears many critics were unable to overcome. Audiences, however, flocked to see The Da Vinci Code, prompting the film to rake in over $700 million worldwide. These are the same audiences who fervently snapped up copies of the novel before reading it on trains, planes and buses the world over before telling their friends to do the same. It's obvious that Howard and screenwriter Akiva Goldsman both belong to this readership and, subsequently, made their adaptation for this readership, as the film is steadfast in its faithfulness to Brown's controversial tome.

The result is a rich, thinking person's thriller that will be enjoyed by anyone who eagerly flipped through The Da Vinci Code's pages. For the most part, the characters are brilliantly brought to life with pitch-perfect casting. Indeed, with just one key exception, it's difficult to imagine anyone else portraying the numerous characters populating The Da Vinci Code: Audrey Tautou, Jean Reno, Paul Bettany, Jürgen Prochnow and Alfred Molina bring their respective parts to life with ease, while Sir Ian McKellan steals each and every scene he's in as Holy Grail enthusiast Leigh Teabing.

The one omission from this list is, oddly enough, leading man Tom Hanks. From the moment Robert Langdon is summoned from a book signing to assist in the murder of a curator at the Louvre who may or may not have been a high-ranking member of a secret religious society, Hanks is strangely wooden and disconnected. In one of the novels, Brown likens Langdon to Harrison Ford, whose dynamic persona is at ends with Hanks' apparent staidness. A thriller this talky needs a vibrant lead to carry it, and it's only during the movie's final sequence – a real standout of the film, accompanied as it is, by Hans Zimmer's dazzling soundtrack – that Hanks really comes into his own as Langdon.

Elsewhere, Howard stunningly realises the book's numerous flashback sequences, thanks to some magnificent cinematography by Salvatore Totino, who is also responsible for giving Paris the appealing golden allure it possesses in the film. Indeed, the whole movie has a look and feel that's all its own. The Da Vinci Code truly feels like a unique film; not your typical summer blockbuster.

Perhaps an injection of that blockbuster vigour is precisely what The Da Vinci Code needed. It's all played too straight at times. Ian McKellan offers up considerable energy to the proceedings, as do the sequences in which Langdon uses his eidetic memory to solve the puzzles on his quest to unearth the truth. It's the bits in between that lack in zest. Meanwhile the final revelation doesn't nearly carry the weight that it ought to. Despite its earnestness, The Da Vinci Code remains largely compelling viewing.

For viewers after a simpler, swifter and more explosive thriller, I suspect Angels & Demons will be up your alley. It appears to remedy The Da Vinci Code's flaws in that it's more of a straight, race-against-time type affair that's relatively light on exposition and heavy on action.

I watched The Da Vinci Code's extended edition on DVD, which adds another 25 minutes or so to the theatrical cut. While this may even further put off those detractors who found the film too dry and talky, fans of the novel will relish seeing it all up there on screen. Don't expect The Da Vinci Code to be a traditional blockbuster, overlook its absurdities (and if it's that disconcerting, Hanks' hair), and watch Dan Brown's novel come to life.

Lost: Season 5 (2009)

To celebrate Lost's 100th episode – last week's terrific Faraday-centric "The Variable" – I briefly entertained the idea of writing a post entitled "100 reasons why you and everyone you know and everyone they know should watch Lost".

It's tragic that I probably could come up with 100 different reasons, but I figured I would avoid doing so in order to preserve the thinly-veiled façade that I'm not actually a big Lost geek. In any case, after about the forty-eighth reason, I probably would have descended into some really obscure arguments...

49. I actually consider those funky DHARMA jumpsuits highly fashionable.

50. Ben's beady, unblinking eyes. Say no more.

51. The way the show's title flashes across the screen at the end of each episode (usually following some jaw-dropping cliffhanger) never fails to send a chill down my spine.

52. Frank Lapidus: the most engaging minor character in a show packed with engaging minor characters.

53. Scrap that. Richard Alpert is the most engaging minor character in a show packed with engaging minor characters.

54. No, wait. Lapidus.

55. Alpert.

56. It's a tie.

And so on. But don't worry, aside from the above, this isn't going to be yet another post banging on about how brilliant Lost is (I needn't tell you the answer is "freaking"). I'll let the show's makers do that.

"It's a challenging show. It's not just a cookie-cutter procedural with a new case each week. There's a real depth to it. But I also know people who watch only occasionally and really enjoy it when they do." – Stephen McPherson, ABC President of Entertainment

"There are a lot of things happening with [Locke], and the writers give me a lot of room to do things. I like that they allow a wide range of ways of playing this character. There's a lot of potential for interpretation in how to play this character. I don't feel I'll be typecast when the show ends, because you see this character in so many ways." – Terry O'Quinn (John Locke)

"People often ask us if there are any characters on the show that we wouldn't kill. The answer is no, everyone's fair game. With one exception. The most integral character on the show, the one we could not live without, is the music. And that is all a product of Michael [Giacchino]'s singular genius." – Damon Lindelof, executive producer

"We needed to express to the audience where the bookmark was in the novel. By announcing the end date, we signaled yes, we have a game plan, so you can rest assured that your investment in the show is going to pay off." – Carlton Cuse, executive producer

"There's a huge twist in the season finale. It's the best one to me, and I can't talk about it. When I read it, I couldn't stop thinking about it. It's part of that secret scene. I think it tops everything that's happened before this point. I would love to talk about it, but I can't." – Yunjin Kim (Sun-Hwa Kwon)

There's loads more in 100th episode retrospectives in both Variety and The Hollywood Reporter. There are a few spoilers for anyone not up to date with the previous episode, "Some Like It Hoth". You can also check out Jimmy Kimmel's amusing "guest spot" in "The Variable" below.

With 100 episodes down, Lost is now on the home stretch; a mere 20 episodes remain until the island vanishes for good. I aim to live a long and fulfilling life, but to be honest, I'll be content simply by not popping my clogs until after Lost's final episode.