Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince Review

I was one of those devastated Harry Potter fans who vowed revenge on Warner Bros. back in November of 2007 for delaying the release of Half-Blood Prince some nine months.

Did I follow through on any of my threats to: a) boycott the movie; b) send some rather disturbing hate mail to the movie execs; or c) upload a crazed and teary YouTube video, ala Chris Crocker? No, I did not.

What I did do was haunt the various Harry Potter fansites for the smallest glimpse of anything that could be deemed as Half-Blood Prince news. I downloaded all of the trailers (and there was a bunch of them), I stared at all the press shots and movie stills for longer than was probably healthy – I basically stalked the movie, ok.

So what was my mood like on July 15 when I finally walked into that movie theatre, box of popcorn and jumbo Pepsi in hand, knowing that Half-Blood Prince, the film I’d dreamed about since its postponement was announced, was going to be rolling in just a few minutes?

Well, if I squealed like a fangirl every time I saw the Half-Blood Prince trailer, you can imagine my delight – scratch that, euphoria overload.

I was practically floating on cinematic-induced cloud 9.

Having read the book (more than once) I was more than a little familiar with the plot, so I was gasping and giggling and – yes – squealing well before the moments that garnered such responses had even appeared on screen.

Some of the funniest moments came, not from the film’s leading man, Daniel Radcliffe, but from lesser-known characters and actors, some of which were making their debut appearance in the sixth installment. Freddie Stroma’s Cormac McLaggen provided some stellar comedic moments, not in the least of which was his slightly stalkerish finger-suck-and-wink over a bowl of ice cream at Slughorn’s party.

I have to admit, I was a tad concerned at David Heyman’s decision to pair high doses of humour and teenage romance with the level of darkness and angst the sixth novel held. I was even more fearful of what the movie would entail when producer Heyman described the film as “fun” and all about “romance and relationships.”

Where’s the darkness, I wanted to scream; where’s the dramatic depth of the Sectumsempra scene?

Thankfully, and surprisingly, I guess I should say, the balance between darkness and the lightness of humour and romance really worked, and I wasn’t left under-whelmed in any way. In particular, the aforementioned Sectumsempra scene was another highlight, albeit an ominous one.

The movie’s only real downfall was the portrayal of Harry’s budding relationship with Ginny Weasley. Throughout their scenes together, Radcliffe seemed stiff and awkward, while on-screen partner Bonnie Wright appeared monotonic and downright bland.

The big kissing scene was actually uncomfortable to watch, and despite the fact that I wasn’t thrilled about Harry and Ginny as a pairing to start with, I was left feeling pretty disappointed by the end of the two-second smooch. All I can say is, thank God it was only two seconds long, and not a full on pash, or I might have gagged into my box of popcorn.

The stand-out of the entire film was definitely Draco Malfoy.

The actor behind Harry Potter’s arch nemesis, Tom Felton, did a brilliant job in capturing the right level of emotion required to really makes fans of the series feel sorry for a character they have previously never sympathized with.

His journey from schoolboy to a soldier of Lord Voldemort’s was a key theme in the movie, and Felton’s acting was spot-on where it should be, over-the-top where it should be, and other times utterly heartbreaking in its authenticity.

Truly, Felton really stepped it up a notch or two in this film, leaving me feeling that he – and not Radcliffe or Grint or Watson – is the shining light at the end of this very long Potter tunnel. I think I can safely predict that the 21-year-old has a bright and lucrative career ahead of him.

That being said, I can’t leave off without admitting how adorable I found Rupert Grint (who plays Ron Weasley) in his Quidditch uniform. If it was up to me, Grint would appear in every single scene, and he would be decked out in tight, yet totally adorkable, Quidditch garb the entire time.

Hot.

And with that emission of fangirlish hormones, I think I’ve come full circle.

Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince is in cinemas worldwide from July 15.

The Proposal Review

I’ve always been a bit of a sucker for the chick flicks – and Ryan Reynolds – which is why I jumped at the chance to see his new rom-com, The Proposal, with Sandra Bullock.

I’d been spoiled by the previews into thinking I was in for a bit of a laugh, and that, coupled with Reynolds’ undeniable hotness factor, meant I had pretty high expectations for a film that I knew very little about.

The premise is simple: Bullock’s character is a bitchy, sex-starved Canadian working in America as a big-time book editor who faces deportation after failing to get her visa paperwork in order. To keep her job, and her dignity, Margaret Tate (Bullock) forces her over-worked and extremely hot young assistant, Andrew Paxton (Reynolds) to marry her in exchange for a payrise and promotion.

Oh, and did I forget to mention that both Tate and Paxton loathe each other with abandon? For example, at one point, Paxton refers to Tate as ‘Satan’s Mistress.’

So it’s no surprise that a series of hilarious hi-jinxes ensues.

It all goes downhill for the not-so-happy couple when they allude to an investigator checking for possible immigration fraud that they’re heading up to Alaska to inform Paxton’s family of their surprise engagement and upcoming nuptials. Of course, now that the immigration office knows, they actually have to make the trip, and both Reynolds and Bullock shine in their task to out-do the other with sarcastic little jibes and cunningly cruel set-ups.

Paxton’s family adds another dimension of ridiculous to this cute, if not highly predictable film about opposites attracting. The grandmother alone (played by veteran actress Betty White) has some of the best lines of the movie, and her little stunt at the end literally had this reviewer close to tears – of the side-splitting, jaw-breaking variety.

The only character I thought was unnecessary was Malin Ackerman’s Gertrude, who:

1. Has an unusual name usually associated with cats, and

2. Seems to be only there to make Sandra Bullock jealous of how effortlessly beautiful she is.

Whether you’re a fan of rom-coms or not, this movie is a relative smorgasbord of attractive actors – Sandra Bullock is 40?! Geez, you could’ve fooled me! – clever and witty dialogue, and set amid some of the most spectacular scenery country Alaska has to offer.

This reviewer highly recommends it, if only for the numerous offerings of Reynolds sweaty and in the buff (or close to it!).

A closing tip: be prepared for sore jaws, aching diaphragms and a hilarity-induced tear or two.

The Proposal is now showing in cinemas across Australia.

Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen Review

The biggest movie of 2009 – if the hundreds of screaming fans in plush seats all around me are any indication – is about to begin.

It smells like a blockbuster: the popcorn is crisp, fresh, and oh-so-tantilisingly buttery.

It sounds like a blockbuster: the aisles are packed with the stampede of dozens of annoying, adolescent feet; the theatre is packed with the drone of fanatical chatter; and the seat next to me is occupied by an over-zealous Autobot extremist.

But is it a blockbuster? Well, I’m about to find out.

I’m thinking technically yes, as the opening credits roll. Yes, because Steven Spielberg is listed as Executive Producer, and I’m stumped to find a project Spielberg has ever fucked up. I mean, isn’t he the golden man of cinema or some shit like that?

The technically part comes in under a category I perhaps should have mentioned at the very beginning: I’m not a Transformers fan, not even a little bit. Sure, I can appreciate the dazzle of the pretty-pretty effects, courtesy of Industrial Light and Magic; the comedic relief of the Witwicky parents (Kevin Dunn and Julie White) and Mojo the dog (who has accumulated a submissive friend since the first film).

What I don’t/can’t appreciate is the ridiculously corny dialogue, Shia LaBeouf’s dreadfully irritating presence, and Megan Fox’s apparent role as the oiled-up, half-naked female meat wagon. Oh, and I can’t not mention the pointless ten-minute fight sequence between Optimus Prime and Megatron that could have been reduced to a thirty-second skirmish, if only Optimus had remembered he had awesome, orange glowing claws that can cut through anything before he was on the verge of losing.

I apologise in advance (well, maybe not exactly in advance, since I’m technically mid-rant here) to all those Transformers fans out there, who I’m sure thought this follow-up to the 2007 blockbuster was beyond fantastic, and the best thing they’ve seen this year. I just don’t get the series as a whole, and I’m sure that’s at least part of why I have such a problem with this film. Well, that, and the complete and utter lack of any half-decent eye candy, which makes it even more painful for this reviewer to sit through a 140-odd-minute film with a laughable plot.

This is the part where all you red-blooded women out there ask the all-important question: But isn’t Fergie’s hunky hubby, Josh Duhamel, in this movie? The answer in short, is yes; Duhamel does reprise his role as the stereotypical soldier Major Lennox, however, I’m left a little disappointed with his part in the film.

I mean, there’s no denying Josh Duhamel is a spunk rat – his years as the suave Danny on the television series Las Vegas have proved that; and yes, he looks good in Revenge of the Fallen, all lathered up in sweat and grime as he is. But he’s severely under-used.

Duhamel’s crowning glory in the film is running around with an over-sized gun looking a bit of a douchebag and faux crying over the ‘death’ of a big, shiny, robot-alien dude.

Now, Australia’s own Isabel Lucas, on the other hand, breathes some much-needed life into a franchise that seems to be all about packing as much silliness, firepower and toilet humour into a two-and-something hour space of time as possible.

I’m not just harping on the Australian factor (though that does help). I honestly believe that Lucas does a bang-up job in her portrayal of a regulation college hottie who tries to seduce bumbling hero-boy, Sam Witwicky (Shia LaBeouf).

Of course, there’s more to Lucas’ Alice than ‘meets the eye,’ but I’m not going to elaborate on that – you’ll just have to see the film. Let’s just say that if I were a lesbian, Lucas would be a bigger draw card for me than grease hussy Megan Fox.

Pity she only has about seven minutes of screen time in total before she’s toast.

As for Fox and LaBeouf, well… there’s not really much I can say. Their respective performances sort of speak for themselves.

In short, Revenge of the Fallen is a blockbuster film. It has enough of the glitz and the glamour, the big name producers, directors and stars, and a fan base of the global economy’s highest hopes – teenagers, the true weapons of mass consumption. I think I can safely say that Transformers will be one of the year’s highest grossing films, if not the highest.

The movie is a two-and-a-half hour roller coaster ride of stunning special effects, cheesy character interaction and greased-up, hot bodies of young Hollywood’s cream of the crop. Cinematic sugar, I think one reviewer said.

I couldn’t agree more. I left Transformers 2 with a massive pain in my jaw that had absolutely nothing to do with the choc-top ice-cream I consumed while watching it.

It was from the cringing. Cinematic sugar, indeed.

Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen is in cinemas across Australia now.

Terminator: Salvation Review

I’m not here for Bale.

I’m not here for the machines, or the action, or even to see if McG’s direction lived up to the hype.

I’m here for Marcus Wright, the character played by relatively unknown Australian actor, Sam Worthington.

From the very first scene, in which Worthington smoulders as a death row inmate with attitude, I know I’m going to get my money’s worth. His chiselled good looks and steely expressions mean I don’t particularly care why he’s in prison and about to meet his death by lethal injection (he killed his brother and a couple of cops, just for clarification), and his deep, ‘I’ve-had-a-hard-life’ voice has already made me forget this is supposed to be a Christian Bale film.

I’m not long reminded of that fact, though I must admit to being a little shocked. I thought this was a continuation of the Terminator franchise, not the latest instalment in the new Batman series. You’d forgive me for being confused if you’ve seen the film – Bale’s first moments on screen are a near-perfect replica of his performance in Dark Knight.

Maybe it’s just the excessive amount of dust in the air playing havoc with his lungs? I find out later that no, his Dark Knight-esque voice has nothing to do with dust, gut-busting battle sequences, or even helicopter crashes that should kill a man – he pretty much stays in the raspy, monotonic Batman character for the entire movie.

But enough about Bale. I’m not here for Bale; I’m here for Worthington.

And he doesn’t disappoint.

Between his smoking hot, undeniable attractiveness and the continual, yet not-over-the-top husky quality to his dialogue (I’m pretending I didn’t notice the little slips in his accent) Worthington steals the show as the troubled, yet totally likable, Marcus Wright. The sixty seconds or so where he’s butt naked and covered head to toe in wet mud only manages to strengthen his role as the best damn thing this movie has to offer.

I’m not going to bore you with any more details concerning the plot, because, let’s face it, if you’re a woman like me, you’re not going to go see Terminator: Salvation for the plot.

You’re going to see it for Worthington.

Or maybe, if you’re of the Gen Y variety, for Kyle Reese, aka Anton Yelchin.

Yelchin was a relative unknown before Salvation hit the theatres – much like Worthington – but I think I can safely predict that this young man will be starring in plenty a fangirlish fantasy before the year is out.

He had some pretty big shoes to fill, though: Michael Beihn circa 1984? ‘Nuff said! Still, the 20-year-old embraces the role of iconic Resistance fighter Reese with gusto, and I have to say by the end of it, he had me reeled in completely – hook, line and sinker.

There’s something about Yelchin’s baby-faced good looks that had even this seasoned swooner literally chomping at the bit for more. Maybe it’s his one-handed shotgun cock that got me (a move the actor is supremely proud of), maybe it’s his filthy, tattered, and (shockingly) hot fingerless gloves that seem to be a staple accessory in his wardrobe and never failed to get this reviewer’s blood pumping, or maybe it’s the fact that almost every scene Reese appears, Worthington’s Marcus is right there with him.

Whatever it is, Salvation’s combination of Worthington, the ever-effulgent Yelchin, Moon Bloodgood’s stellar ass-kicking ability, and a certain naked Californian governor that gets his face melted off, has left me parched, panting, and absol-friggin-lutely ready for more.

Yeah, I should have ordered the jumbo Pepsi. Oh well, there’s always next time, I suppose!

Reviewer side-note: I’ve seen this movie twice now since it’s Australian cinematic release. I’m not going to speak for the plot, since I’m sure its got plot-holes galore scattered throughout, but the two actors mentioned above more than make up for anything lacking in the plot department. Seriously, they’re that hot!

Terminator: Salvation in is theatres across Australia now.