Robert Forster Page 2

It didn't seem possible, but somehow this action movie is even more preposterous than its predecessor, 2013's over-serious Olympus Has Fallen. Gerard Butler is back as a Secret Service agent protecting US President Aaron Eckhart, this time in a Taken-style scenario in which they leave America only to be immediately thrown into the middle of a massive terrorist attack. But the script is so lazy that there isn't a moment when any of this is remotely believable.

Events are put into motion when the British prime minister dies of a heart attack and security services only have a few days to lock down London so that the world's leaders can arrive for the funeral at St Paul's Cathedral. Mike (Butler) flies in with his boss Lynn (Bassett) on Air Force One, accompanying President Asher (Eckhart) and a platoon of bodyguards. Then just before the funeral, a carefully orchestrated series of bombings and gun attacks take out five heads of state. Of course, Mike and Lynn get Asher out of the fray, but an army of bad guys led by terror mastermind Kamran (Waleed Zuaiter) pursue them across the city. Back in Washington, Vice President Trumbull (Morgan Freeman) and the panicky cabinet (including Haley, Forster and Leo) watch all of this unfold on video screens and coordinates a counter-attack.

Even with four screenwriters, the movie makes no real sense. And worse than that, the filmmakers never take advantage of the story's potential or the heavy-hitting cast. There's a line about how all of London's landmarks have been destroyed, but the on-screen destruction is limited to just one of Westminster Abbey's towers. The depiction of world leaders is laughably cliched. And the award-winning actors have nothing to do but stand there looking worried. By contrast, Butler charges around shooting and stabbing everybody who moves in a display of shockingly brutal machismo. Eckhart is more believably reluctant to join in and dispense some violence, but of course he does.

Continue reading: London Has Fallen Review

As this massive blockbuster thriller progresses, it's impossible not to become amused by how ridiculous its script becomes. Because the production values are first-rate, with mammoth set pieces, rampant destruction and elaborate stunt action. Meanwhile, the plot and dialog are comically inane, to the point where knowing audience members start giggling helplessly. And frankly, these viewers will enjoy the film a lot more than anyone who tries to take it seriously.

The film opens with a harrowing scene in which Secret Service agent Mike (Butler) saves the President (Echkart) from an accident in which the First Lady (Judd) dies. So he's transferred to office duty, and now only keeps an eye on the White House from across the road. But this is how he spots a fringe group of radical Koreans launch an assault. Led by nutcase Kang (Yune) they storm the Oval Office and take the President, Defense Secretary (Leo) and others hostage. As Mike tries to break them free, he stays in touch with the temporary command centre at the Pentagon, where top dogs (including Freeman, Forster and Bassett) attempt to keep the menace from spreading.

But of course, these officials are useless, and it'll be up to Mike to save the day on his own, Die Hard-style. Improbably, all of his old access codes and passwords still work, so he's able to sneak around the White House and take out the villains one by one. Butler turns out to be rather good in this kind of meathead role, combining Bruce Willis' wit with Sylvester Stallone's brawn. By contrast, everyone else pretty much just sits around saying ridiculous things like, "Oh my God, we're doomed!" At least Leo gets to show some backbone.

Continue reading: Olympus Has Fallen Review

Christopher Null, not overly impressed

Continue reading: Mulholland Drive Review

If only Jim Carrey's uninhibited and completely unhinged, sweet-and-sour insanity was by itself enough to carry a movie, it might not matter so much that the plot of the Farrelly Brothers' "Me, Myself and Irene" is nothing but an undercooked on-the-run road movie.

Full of crooked cops and rich, double-crossing ex-boyfriends, it's a dim bulb script the boys had shelved ages ago and dusted off last year only after a couple post-"There's Something About Mary" projects fell through.

Sustained only by its outrageousness (breast milk gags, anyone?) and Carrey's hammy physical humor, the movie does have its fair share of laughs. But between guffaws there's nothing to keep the uneven "Irene" from collapsing under its own dead weight.

Continue reading: Me, Myself & Irene Review