Tag Archives: Christian Bale

In which I take a big s**t over the Big Short

26 Jan

 

the big short

The Big Short, starring Ryan Gosling, Steve Carell, Brad Pitt and Christian Bale

It’s not often I see a film that makes me angry, but hot new Oscar contender The Big Short managed it. Not because of any righteous rage engendered by its star-studded, faux-documentary-style expose of the banking crash of 2008 – my rage at that was righteous enough already – but because of the patronising, intelligence-insulting, comedic-didactic way it chose to tell the story.

Maybe there are people so incurious about the near-collapse of the global economy and Capitalism itself that they never bothered to read up on it, and to discover how the banks rolled sub-prime mortgages into a grab-bag of triple A-rated bonds with the connivance of lazy and/or corrupt regulators, and that the banks, when they realised the whole thing was going tits-up, then took out their own shorting positions, effectively betting against themselves and their own investors in order to protect themselves in the final weeks or days before the financial apocalypse. If so, they will find much here to enlighten them.

For the rest of us, it’s like having Russell Brand bellow “Wake Up, Sheeple!” into a megaphone for two hours, interrupted occasionally by L’Oreal Elvive’s Jennifer Aniston tossing her golden locks knowingly to camera as she warns, for the benefit of beauty-loving women who obviously therefore have no brain, “Here comes the science bit!”

Here’s how close the Aniston analogy actually is: near the beginning, there is an explanation of financial terms that the film-makers worry will make the viewer nod off, despite being illustrated with pictures of puppies in sunglasses, I kid you not. Here the film actually stops like a scratched record and says, in these exact words, “Are you getting bored? These terms are designed by Wall Street to give the impression that only they know how to understand them. So here’s Margot Robbie in a bubble bath to explain it.”

They actually do cut to Margot Robbie – the comely actress from The Wolf of Wall Street, playing herself, not a character in the movie – sipping Champagne in a bubble bath as she talks about how the crisis originated. [As another journalist has pointed out, this is far from the only sexist aspect to The Big Short: it also leaves out a key real-life female player, and “amusingly” tries to sugar-coat another load of financial exposition by setting it in a strip club.] Other such breakings of the fourth wall include “celebrity chef” Anthony Bourdain explaining bad bonds through the medium of fish stew, and Selena Gomez demonstrating CDO’s through a Vegas Blackjack table.

No doubt the critics, who have raved about the film, see all these devices as thrillingly post-modern. I think that kind of thing is becoming cliched, myself, but my real problem is with the film telling its audience, loudly and clearly: “You’re all celebrity-obsessed jackasses who won’t listen to anything unless it comes from a gorgeous star’s pouting lips or hits you over the head with a hammer, so here you go, you’re welcome.” Maybe some people are like that. But even so, you don’t usually convince someone of an argument by first insulting them, you patronising triple A-holes.

Sigh. All right: on the plus side, the cast are excellent, particularly Christian Bale, cast against type as a borderline autistic heavy-metal-loving maths whizz with a glass eye and poor social skills who staked hundreds of millions on betting against the supposedly infallible housing market – the “big short” of the title. I am also enormously glad that risky, brave, high-profile films with a social conscience are being made at all: kudos here to Brad Pitt, who is behind this one as producer, as he was behind 12 Years A Slave. And, as I said, many people like it: it’s had four-to-five star reviews and won the Producers’ Guild award for best film. In disliking it, I kind of feel like the people depicted in The Big Short: convinced of my rightness against the prevailing orthodoxy.

So let’s go for broke. In my last blog, I wrote how The Big Short had suddenly surged to become William Hill’s front runner for the Best Film Oscar. Call me crazy (you wouldn’t be the first), but I think Oscar is more discerning than that. So I’m going to contact William Hill and try to lay my own “short” – betting against it winning.

 

A flight of films: eight recent reviews from Chappie to X+Y

5 Jul

I love travelling. It’s not so much the exotic food, the stunning landscapes, the interesting people – it’s the seven hours of uninterrupted films on the flight, with even more time now that airlines have started allowing the in-flight entertainment to run before take-off and after landing. I’m just back from Canada with British Airways, which allowed me to catch up on several movies I missed at the cinema. Here’s what’s worth your time – and what’s not:

chappieChappie ***: Neill Blomkamp’s District 9 was pretty awesome, coming seemingly out of nowhere; Elysium a lot less so. Chappie falls somewhere in the middle. A police robot is given an AI programme and becomes sentient, sadly with a cutesy baby voice at first and some annoyingly twee attempts at learning about human life from the low-rent gangstas who co-opt him into a heist. But though it lays on the sentiment with a builder’s trowel, enough of it sticks to get to you in the end.

ex-machina-movieEx Machina ****: All those years of writing for Danny Boyle have paid off for Alex Garland in his directorial debut: Ex Machina is not just a thoughtful and intelligently written addition to the AI canon, but the performances are first-rate. Like Moon or Her, Ex Machina is a sci-fi film of ideas rather than action scenes and explosions – it shows you what Garland’s Sunshine could have been like without the stupid tacked-on climax.

ExodusExodus: Gods and Kings **: Watching this big-screen spectacle on a seat-back screen, there’s really very little left to enjoy in Ridley Scott’s epic. Christian Bale, as too often these days, seems to have no handle on what kind of movie he’s in. After an hour, I found I was distracting myself by imagining the cast breaking into a song-and-dance of “Moses supposes his toeses are roses/ But Moses supposes erroneously/ For nobody’s toeses are poses of roses/ As Moses supposes his toeses to be”. I switched it off then.

The GamblerThe Gambler **: I love films about gambling. In theory. But in practice, with the odd honourable exception such as Rounders, most of them are witless and clichéd (yes, Runner Runner, I’m looking at you; and Focus, you scrape a “C” on the leads’ charm alone). Sadly this Mark Wahlberg movie, though reaching for something metaphorical, falls into the latter camp. And how can you watch a guy who doubles in Blackjack on 18? And then hits a 3?

gethaGet Hard *: Will Ferrell as a privileged rich white financier being trained by Kevin Hart to withstand being everyone’s bitch in a maximum-security prison? This actually sounded like good brainless airplane fun to me, and I fired up a couple of Bloody Marys in expectation.  It is so, so not. Fun, that is. Brainless, yes. Also abandoned after an hour.

insideInside Out ****: Pixar have done it again. Directed by Pete Docter, the man behind Up, this takes a hackneyed conceit – there are mini-people inside our brains controlling our actions, like in the comic strip The Numbskulls – and gives it heart. There are, apparently, five key emotions warring for supremacy: foremost among them, in a young girl’s life so far, is Joy. When the girl reaches hard times in her teens, Joy discovers that Sadness also has its place, and is better embraced than shunned. Simultaneously simple and deep.

while we we're youngWhile We’re Young ***: I wasn’t sure I liked this for most of the film, but it improves as it goes. A fortysomething couple (Ben Stiller and Naomi Watts, both less annoying here than they can be) meet an arty-party young couple who turn their lives upside down. Along the way, it becomes an interesting meditation on truth in life and art. Written and directed by Noah Baumbach.

X+YX+Y ***: A lovely little film about an autistic teen savant who enters the Maths Olympiad. When I say Sally Hawkins plays the mother, you’ll know exactly what kind of film it will be. Asa Butterfield, who was so watchable in Ender’s Game, plays the troubled young genius who finds the trickiest equation of all to solve is love.