I AM NUMBER FOUR: not quite a number two

But damn close!
This Twilight on steroids-Superman-X-Files-every teenage vampire/sci-fi tv drama you've ever seen mash-up is as derivative as heck but sort of fun in a very mindless Michael Bay produced kind of way.

BEAUTIFUL BOY: a sadly empty response to a terrible tragedy

BEAUTIFUL BOY is a story ripped from today's headlines yet rarely told.
With the Columbine and Virginia Tech massacres very firmly in mind director Shawn Ku examines the aftermath of a mass shooting at a US university from the point of view of the devastated parents of the teenage shooter.

Bill (Michael Sheen) and Kate (Maria Bello) start to fear the worst after they hear of the shooting and can't get hold of their son Sammy on the phone. When police arrive at their front door they're already braced for bad news but nothing can prepare them for being told that Sammy is the one responsible for the murder of 17 classmates and professors.   
Within hours the press are camped out on their front lawn and the couple are forced to flee their home and take refuge with Kate's brother and his wife. What follows is a faux fly-on-the-wall style study of a couple trying and failing to come to terms with the enormity of the death of their only son and his inexplicable slaughter of so many innocent people. It's a process made more complicated by the fact that Bill and Kate are a couple on the verge of separation. Physically they're together but emotionally there's an enormous gulf between them and it's only been made wider by this terrible event.
What I found so unfortunate about BEAUTIFUL BOY is that the coldness and distance between Bill and Kate spilled over into my response to them. The film has a chilly, clinical look and feel that evokes only emotional numbness. There was no sense of sharing in the horror of Sammy's actions, or his parents inability to find the appropriate reaction. Both of them went from moments of steely resolve to complete collapse but the impression was of observing a clinical study. Ku's insistence on having his camera continually moving to mimic the motion of a hand-held camera objectively documenting events as they occur merely adds to this impression and may induce motion sickness in some viewers.
In a time when the media is quick to craft often simplistic explanations for horrific, complex and sometimes inexplicable events, and even quicker to apportion blame (often equally inaccurately) BEAUTIFUL BOY serves as a sombre reality check, reminding us that those closest to the perpetrator can be left just as devastated as the families of his victims, with the additional burden of guilt and confusion over what caused their loved one to go off the rails and whether they are somehow responsible.
Grim and understandably depressing as BEAUTIFUL BOY is, my ultimate response was only disappointment at its failure to move me.

THE GO-BETWEEN: I know what you did 70 summers before last.

Almost two decades before the producer-director team of Ismail Merchant and James Ivory patented the now universally accepted image of turn of the 20th century England with 'Maurice', 'Howard's End' and 'Remains of the Day' director Joseph Losey created his own very similar vision with THE GO-BETWEEN.

Set in the summer of 1900 in the dying days of the reign of Queen Victoria, the story focuses on 13 year old Leo (Dominic Guard) who's spending the school holidays at the Norfolk estate of his rich classmate Marcus. He enters a world rigidly governed by class where Marcus's family display a paternal interest in the well being of their servants and farm workers providing the latter keep to their place. That's how it's always been and how, in the glorious hot summer of 1900 with Victoria reigning over an Empire than spanned the globe, it seemed it always would be.
But Marcus's older sister Marian (Julie Christie) is carrying on a secret affair with handsome local farmer Ted Burgess (Alan Bates) and enlists the naive Leo to act as their postman, ferrying letters between the two of them.  At first he's eager to please but as he begins to realise what's going on he starts demanding answers to his questions about the mysteries of adult life, like love and sex and trust, honesty and deception.
The dreamy, idyllic gold-hued memory of that long ago summer is contrasted sharply with the grey wet and windy present (of 1971) as the septuagenarian Leo (Michael Redgrave) returns to Norfolk to revisit the places that played such an important part in his loss of childhood innocence. The suggestion is that life was better in the past than it is in the present (a notion Woody Allen also explores in is latest film 'Midnight in Paris') although Losey makes it abundantly clear that this is not the case. Despite the golden tint and cloudless skies there's an oppressiveness to the atmosphere that's caused by more than just the hot weather. It's the suffocating weight of expectations of a class structure which makes no allowance for individual wants and desires and compels everyone to play by rules they had no hand in creating. Marian and Ted's relationship is doomed from the start, and Leo is fated to be betrayed by the adults he idolises.

Dominic Guard in his film debut holds his own against incredibly talented competition. Bates oozes animal magnetism as the swarthily handsome working class farmer who sets Christie's heart a-flutter. She is irresistibly beautiful and it's easy to understand the crush that young Leo develops on both of them. Margaret Leighton and Michael Gough are superb as Marian's totally class conscious parents, and Redgrave deserves a special mention for his performance. It's more of an extended cameo than a part and he doesn't get to speak one word on screen yet he is utterly mesmerizing, conveying more with a look than any words could express.
THE GO-BETWEEN is a film that takes it's time. The story's set in an era where life moved more slowly, especially for the upper classes on their summer holiday, and while it builds to a tragic conclusion there's little sense of urgency. Losey's camera lingers, observing the nuances of life among the well-off in late Victorian England, while Michel Legrand's beautiful score enhances the atmosphere. It all contributes to a haunting quality that will stay with you long after the final credits have rolled.

SOMETHING BORROWED: no really, it's ok. You can keep it.

A guy who looks somewhat like Tom Cruise can't decide which of two puffy-faced girls he's really in love with. Much bed-hopping, emotional angst and hilarity ensues as he tries to make up his mind. Ok, I made up that last bit. The hilarity fails to materialise - unless you're really really easily entertained.

SOMETHING BORROWED is a cookie-cutter rom-com/dramedy possessing not even a flicker of a  spark of originality. The path that the aforementioned Cruise lookalike Dex (Colin Egglesfield) takes to discover his true love is entirely predictable while the three main characters are so unappealing that they totally fail to engage our interest or empathy. Dex is standard issue Hollywood rom-com beefcake - well built, blandly handsome and completely unthreatening - while the two gals in his life are so uninspiring that it's a real mystery why they'd provoke a tingle in the loins of even someone as dull and routine as Dex.
Kate Hudson plays Darcy, his drunken, slutty, party-loving superficial girlfriend, without much enthusiasm. It's as if she knows this project is a turkey and she's not going to bust a gut trying to save it. Ginnifer Goodwin is the serious, dowdy, limp-as-a-soiled-dishrag Rachel, Darcy's best friend since childhood and carrier of a secret torch for Dex. Hmmmm, I wonder which of them will wind up with him at the final fade-out?
The only thing that kept me watching this yawnfest was Hudson's head. Unless there was something wrong with the aspect ratio on my 47 inch tv Katie's noggin now resembles a large squashed pumpkin. She looks like a blousy, bottle-blonde 40 year old rather than the vivacious 30 year old sexpot she's supposed to be playing. Meanwhile her romantic rival Goodwin has all the sex appeal of Tina Fey, and I don't mean that in a good way. It's not a pretty picture, believe me.
I almost forgot to mention John Krasinski (Jim in the US tv version of 'The Office') as Ethan, Rachel's best friend and confidante. I thought he was supposed to be one of Hollywood's rising stars so it's difficult to understand why he's taken what is clearly a supporting role (and not even supporting A-list talent) playing a part which has traditionally been reserved for the leading lady's gay best friend.  
Boring, unlikeable characters and a predictable plot make SOMETHING BORROWED neither romantic, comedic nor dramatic. If this film were a lawnmower that my neighbour had borrowed I'd be ecstatic to be rid of it.

THE SECRET OF CONVICT LAKE: Barrymore's bedridden and Glenn's got her (in a headlock)

The sole highlight of this 1951 western is the scene where escaped convict Glenn Ford wrestles with a bedridden 72 year old Ethel Barrymore in an effort to prise a revolver out of her arthritic hands. If it wasn't for the fact that no less than five writers contributed to the crafting of this particular piece of business I'd be tempted to say that you just can't write this kind of stuff.
Barrymore's performance as Granny is a hoot because she makes almost no concessions to the part. Presented with dialogue that had already been trotted out in a hundred low budget westerns, she delivers it with exactly the amount of disdain it deserves.Really the only effort she makes is to speak in a silly old-cowboy-lady voice which is how one would expect a grand lady of the theater who's never stooped to watching westerns to play the part.
Barrymore apart there's little else to distinguish this movie other than to wonder exactly what is was that Ford, Barrymore, Gene Tierney and Zachary Scott had done to so upset 20th Century Fox boss Darryl Zanuck that he ordered them all to appear in this B-movie.

THE STUNT MAN: crashes and burns

Some movies simply misfire; the intentions were good but the elements somehow failed to gel satisfactorily. A few others are so spectacularly dysfunctional that they give the impression of possessing a fierce and powerful death wish. THE STUNTMAN belongs firmly in the latter category.
I use the word 'spectacularly' here not to suggest something impressive but to indicate the enormity of the disaster.

This film is unwatchable from beginning to end. I know that sounds like an oxymoron but I'm loathe to ever abandon a film just in case it gets better after I switch off. I stuck with THE STUNTMAN and it didn't. Writer-director Richard Rush takes self-indulgence to a whole new level with this ill-formed psuedo-art house tale of megalomaniac film director Eli Cross (Peter O'Toole) and Cameron (Steve Railsback), the fugitive from justice who hides out on Cross's film set posing as a stuntman.
The film is full of characters talking and talking just to enjoy the sound of their own voice, spouting lofty, pretentious dialogue that might have been halfway excusable if it originated in a genuine German art-house film of the mid 1970s rather than this clumsy wannabe.
What's so frustrating is that O'Toole's character has the potential to be someone really interesting and amusing but he never develops beyond this windy deliverer of lofty pronouncements and observations that are, frankly, boring. He toys with Cameron as a cat would with a mouse, alternately tormenting and encouraging him but even that relationship fails to generate any real sparks.
Looking like a fugitive from too many tv and direct to video movies (which is exactly where his career went after this brief moment in the sun) Railsback plays Cameron as a one dimensional lunk only too eager to do anything his tormentor/protector instructs him to and never questioning Cross's bizarre speaking style and observations on life.
This whole fiasco drags on for more than two tedious hours without ever remotely delivering on the promise of the story's concept. THE STUNTMAN fails as entertainment, as an exploration of the world of film making, and as a character study. The only thing it succeeds at is the one thing director Rush least intended - it is a solid gold, certifiable monumental waste of time. 
 

A STAR IS BORN: overwhelmed by ego

There's been much speculation over the years as to how different the 1976 version of A STAR IS BORN would have been had Elvis taken the part played by Kris Kristofferson. Barbra Streisand reportedly personally offered the part to Presley during a backstage visit in Las Vegas and he was keen to take it. It could have marked the beginning of a creative revival for the bored and frustrated singer, but the deal was scuppered by his manager Colonel Parker who demanded top billing and a million dollar fee for himself.

It's easy to blame Parker for destroying Elvis' last shot at redemption but the reality is that Elvis would never have appeared in the version that made it to cinema screens. A STAR IS BORN is a vehicle for Streisand's ego (and undeniable talent) and just as much as the Colonel wouldn't take second billing for his boy, Babs wouldn't have accepted second billing to Elvis. A STAR IS BORN is her project (she's also executive producer) and the film is all about her, from the soft focus close-ups to the multitude of songs she gets to sing in their entirety. Contrast that with Kristofferson's character, booze and drug-addicted has-been rock star John Norman Howard. He's photographed without the benefit of filters and gets only 2 or 3 opportunities to sing just part of the same song.
To an extent this is understandable. The story chronicles Howard's discovery of Esther Hoffman (Streisand) a talented new singing sensation and the ascendency of her star as his descends. Howard's erratic, self-destructive behaviour is alienating his management and his fans leaving Esther as the only one who still believes in him, but even she is powerless to save him from himself. It's a scenario which Elvis probably felt was a little too close to home for him to feel comfortable with, and I'm sure many of his fans would have had trouble accepting him as the victim and Babs as the heroine.
This third version of the story switches the milieu from Hollywood to the music business and suffers as a result. Director Frank Pierson seems to have applied the recording industry's sometimes disorganised and ego-driven approach to the film's structure giving us a story which feels sprawling, slow moving and self-indulgent. For a narrative driven film there's way too much singing Streisand. We don't need five complete songs to get the message that she's a big and genuine talent with a beautiful voice particularly when - with the exception of 'Evergreen' - the songs are distinctly unmemorable and overblown.

As an actress she's perhaps a little too old and worldly-wise to be entirely convincing as an ingenue but her love for Howard is touching and moving. Kristofferson acquits himself well and it's interesting (and ironic) to see a young Gary Busey as Howard's manager trying unsuccessfully to keep his wayward charge away from the excesses of the rock lifestyle.
Having thoroughly enjoyed the first two versions of A STAR IS BORN I was eager to see how this update would work and - unfortunately - I found that it doesn't. With it's meandering narrative and over-indulgence of Streisand's ego this is easily the weakest of the three. With a little more restraint and discipline - and perhaps Elvis as well - this could have been so much better than it is.

CRACK UP: his art's really not in it.

Casting Hollywood's Professional Irish Padre in residence as an art curator is the most notable element in this otherwise rather run of the mill RKO film noir B-movie from 1946. It takes a considerable suspension of disbelief to accept Pat O'Brien as a student of the Old Masters and for much of the film it appears that O'Brien himself is struggling with the concept.

He plays George Steele as a man overwhelmed with ennui, unable to arose any sense of fear or excitement even when he finds himself wanted for murder and running for his life from various art world villains who want him dead. There's a weariness in his delivery which suggests a man who hasn't had a refreshing sleep since the British Eighth Army turned the tide of the North Africa campaign at El Alamein in late 1942.
The World War 2 reference is not entirely facetious since Steele is a vet, possibly on the brink of a crack-up following his wartime experiences. Has he really been in the train wreck he claims he has at the start of the story or is it a product of his damaged mind? Does his long suffering girl friend Terry (Claire Trevor in another thankless supporting role) really have his welfare at heart or is she secretly in cahoots with the mysterious Englishman Traybin (Herbert Marshall)?
Other than a couple of genuinely suspenseful and artfully composed sequences on board a train the plot, involving stolen masterpieces and x-rays of forgeries, soon gets a little confusing and tiresome and I found myself empathising with O'Brien's lack of energy.
Over-plotted and undercharged CRACK UP sets out with good intentions and a suitably noirish ambiance but is let down by O'Brien's performance and the ultimate implausibility of the story's twists and turns. On the plus side it must be one of the very few Hollywood made thrillers where the hero literally sleeps through the climax!

MIDNIGHT IN PARIS: Woody's magical time machine tour

Woody Allen is back!

I know he never went away but it's certainly seemed as if his incredible talent has deserted him in recent years. It's been painful to watch his last few films - 'Cassandra's Dream', 'WhateverWorks', 'You Will Meet a Tall Dark Stranger' - each one worse than the last and barely a distant flicker of the comedic genius that gave us 'Manhattan', 'Broadway Danny Rose', 'Zelig', 'Hannah and Her Sisters' et al.

I never gave up on him but I was resigned to never seeing their like again. And then I watched MIDNIGHT IN PARIS.

This is a film to fall in love with. A beautiful, funny and touching romantic comedy expertly played out by a cast that look like they’re having fun. And why wouldn’t they be? Allen’s script is deliciously light and fluffy. He’s rediscovered his muse and she has filled his head with dialogue that’s the aural equivalent of a Magnum Double Caramel Ice Cream Bar.

Owen Wilson stars as Gil, a successful, self confessed “Hollywood hack” who yearns to break the shackles of his day job to write a novel. In Paris with his fiancée Inez (Rachel McAdams) and her parents Gil is overcome with the romanticism of the city and dreams of living in the Paris of the 1920s which he imagines to be a golden age. Then one night, just as the clock strikes twelve a slightly drunk Gil is invited into a big old car and finds himself transported back to a time when F.Scott Fitzgerald, Ernest Hemingway, Pablo Picasso and Cole Porter made the French capital their playground.

Gil’s disbelieving pleasure at encountering his literary heroes is balanced by his even more disbelieving and disinterested fiancée and future parents-in-law who are presented as the worst kind of ugly Americans – tastelessly wealthy and dismissive of any culture that isn’t their own. Their response to Gil’s challenging of their values is to brand him a communist.

Ever since Allen stopped acting in his own films and retreated behind the camera he’s had one of the cast play the part that he would have played were he still acting. In many cases that actor has come across as little more than a weak impression of the great man. Wilson takes on that part in MIDNIGHT IN PARIS but completely avoids falling into the trap. By the time I realised that Gil was the Woody Allen part I had fully committed to Gil as a character in his own right and didn’t see him as simply channelling Allen. The credit for that belongs to Wilson’s interpretation of the role and his impressive ability to make Allen’s lines sound like his own.

And there are some very funny lines. My particular favourite is the scene where Gil encounters the young and not yet famous surrealist film maker Luis Bunuel and pitches the confused Spaniard a plot for what will become one of his most famous films but which in 1920 is just incomprehensible nonsense. Is this Allen having a dig at pretentious film making or just making his own wonderfully surreal joke? Either way it’s a scene to be savoured.

As ever the cast is filled with big names eager to appear in an Allen movie. Among the stand-outs here are Michael Sheen as a pedantic smug know-it-all who insists on providing a running commentary on every tourist attraction and work of art that Gil, Ynez and the ‘rents take in; Adrien Brody as a rhinoceros obsessed Salvador Dali; Kathy Bates as Gertrude Stein and Marion Cotillard as Adriana, Picasso’s latest muse and the object of Gil’s desires.

MIDNIGHT IN PARIS is an instant classic. You’ll lose yourself in the sweet and funny fantasy played out against a French capital dipped in golden hues, and then you’ll go on line and book yourself a holiday to Paris.

THE GIRL WHO PLAYED WITH FIRE: second session for stylish Swedish thriller

This second installment in the trilogy of Swedish made thrillers based on the best selling novels by Stig Larsson picks up where 'The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo' left off a year earlier.

Mikael Blomkvist (Michael Nygvist), the Stockholm based publisher of the investigative magazine Millennium, and Lisbeth Salander (Noomi Rapace) have gone their separate ways but their paths cross again after a journalist is murdered shortly before his investigation into sex trafficking is to be published in Millennium. Lisbeth's fingerprints are found on the gun, which is traced back to her abusive guardian. When he too is found murdered she becomes Sweden's public enemy number one and reaches out to Mikael for help.
The plot which unravels is infinitely more complex than this brief summary might suggest, and just like 'Dragon Tattoo' there are more than enough twists to keep you permanently off-balance. And while THE GIRL WHO PLAYED WITH FIRE (TGWPWF) reintroduces us to many of the characters from the first film this is by no means simply a sequel. It stands as an adventure in its own right and doesn't assume that the viewer will have seen 'Dragon Tattoo' (although it's definitely an advantage if you have).
Perhaps what's most different about TGWPWF is that Lisbeth and Mikael conduct their investigations independently and while their discoveries brings them progressively closer together, and they interact with some of the same characters, they don't actually meet until the very end. Think of Robert De Niro and Al Pacino in 'Heat' and you'll have a good idea what to expect.
Director Daniel Alfredson has created a worthy companion piece to 'Dragon Tattoo' (which he also directed earlier in 2009) and while I found it totally engrossing it wasn't quite as enthralling as 'Dragon Tattoo.' There's a certain something missing, and I've yet to figure out whether it's the story being not as intriguing, or the novelty of new characters having worn off, or something else.
Despite this reservation I have no hesitation in recommending this film to anyone who enjoyed 'Dragon Tattoo.' If you loved that film, with it's stylish, low key Scandinavian take on the crime thriller genre, you will very seriously like this film.

HARRY POTTER AND THE DEATHLY HALLOWS Part 2: the perfect farewell

I'm not one of the millions of Harry Potter fanatics who couldn't wait for the next cinematic installment and gushed endlessly about it on Facebook and Twitter both before and after seeing it. I'm more of a casual observer. I've seen all of HP series (I think) but I've not made any effort to memorise plot development from one film to the next which would account for my confusion in trying to understand what's going on and who they're talking about.

I found 'Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 1' pretty boring and incomprehensible so I wasn't expecting much from part 2 and, I have to admit, I was very pleasantly surprised. I still struggled to keep up with the mythology but I found the whole experience entertaining, engrossing and - at times - quite moving as well.
Director David Yates (who also helmed the previous 3 HP episodes) succeeds in making this finale not only the epic conclusion to an even more epic odyssey but also a thrilling adventure in it's own right. Sure it helps immensely to have watched the rest of the series but if, like me, you have but can't remember the plot points, there's still plenty to enjoy here and it's all in 3D to boot!
As I was leaving the cinema I heard someone say that the film "didn't really make much use of the 3D" but that misses the point. The film does make plenty of use of 3D to add depth to the scenes; what is doesn't do is make gimmicky 'things leaping out of the screen at you' use of the process. That is often contrived and the novelty soon becomes tiring. This is not a film that depends on 3D for its effectiveness (the film was being shown in 2D on the next door screen) but it certainly enhances the experience.
Unsurprisingly this final episode is very much the Harry Potter (Daniel Radcliffe) show with his two best friends and confidantes, Hermione (Emma Watson) and Ron  (Rupert Grint) relegated to much diminished supporting roles. Ron in particular has far less to do and doesn't even speak for the first 10 minutes he's on screen. Potter has never been the story's most interesting character so it's a big ask for him to hold our attention for an extended period of time but thankfully there's strong and colorful support from Ralph Fiennes as Harry's nemesis Lord Voldemort, and Alan Rickman as the suspicious Professor Snape. The rest of the faculty at Hogwarts - Maggie Smith, David Thewlis, Miriam Margoyles, Jim Broadbent et al are reduced to little more than cameos which is a disappointment as they've been a consistently entertaining presence over the course of this saga.
The climax is suitably exciting, action-packed and unpredictable and says farewell to the various characters in a way that is both fitting and respectful to them and satisfying for the audience. I've never thought of Harry, Ron and Hermione as particularly close friends but I was still sad to see them go, and that's a testament to the effectiveness of the storytelling by everyone involved - from the cast to the screenwriter, the director and - of course - J.K. Rowling. Just don't ask me what a deathly hallows is.

COWBOYS AND ALIENS: too many producers overcook the turkey

I knew it was a bad sign when my brain started associating every mention of COWBOYS AND ALIENS with Will Smith singing the theme song to 'Wild Wild West.'
That 1999 western - sci-fi mash up was an unmitigated disaster and I couldn't shake the feeling that COWBOYS AND ALIENS was going to be more of the same. And boy oh boy was my premonition right on the money!

Despite the presence of Steven Spielberg, Ron Howard and Brian Grazer among the 16 credited producers, co-producers, executive producers and associate producers this $100 million blockbuster wannabe is dead on arrival. Director Jon Favreau ('Iron Man 1 & 2') has slaughtered 2011's biggest turkey.
From the completely dreary and lifeless opening 20 minutes where nothing happens to engage our interest, to the dour, one dimensional and uninspiring leading characters, and the dull, confusing and cliche soaked story there is absolutely nothing here to - how can I say it - engage the audience.
Daniel Craig is a fine actor but the western genre is not his natural home, and his supposedly 'mysterious' character is so boring I had not the slightest interest in sharing his journey of discovery. Playing the ruthless baddie who - surprise surprise - really has a heart of gold, Harrison Ford reprises that annoyingly gravel-voiced whisper that he used to such irritating effect in last year's 'Morning Glory.'
You know a film's in trouble when its two leading characters are so completely unappealing that - within minutes of first meeting them - you couldn't care less whether they live or die, and no amount of explosions, space ships and decidedly unimpressive special effects persuaded me to change that initial impression.
I would not previously have imagined it possible but COWBOYS AND ALIENS may actually be worse than 'Wild Wild West.' At least that had a catchy theme song.
An uninspired and unimaginative head on collision between two incompatible genres, this malformed abomination is guaranteed to disappoint not only western and sci-fi enthusiasts but also anyone hoping to be entertained.

LONDON BOULEVARD: never mind the plot points, just soak up the visuals

When superstar Elizabeth Taylor was laid to rest in an LA cemetery in March this year, Colin Farrell was one of the few outsiders invited to attend the funeral service. His presence was a surprise to many but shortly before her death Liz had praised him in an interview describing Farrell as a "brilliant, nuanced actor."

Anyone who knows Farrell from big budget stinkers like 'Alexander' and 'Miami Vice' could be forgiven for thinking the old girl had lost her marbles but having watched LONDON BOULEVARD I'm willing to give her the benefit of the doubt.
Writer ('The Departed') William Monahan's directorial debut is not a great film but it's stylish and engrossing and Farrell gives an excellent account of himself as Mitchell, a notorious London gangster struggling to stay on the straight and narrow after a spell in prison but finding himself inexorably drawn back to a life of violent crime.
In one of the many plot strands that all somehow intertwine eventually, he's hired as personal security for Charlotte (Keira Knightley), a reclusive ultra-famous film star holed up in her London mansion and stalked relentlessly by foul-mouthed paparazzi. Cut off from all human contact except for her louche and very gay retainer Jordan (David Thewlis) it's not long before the actress falls for the handsome thug, but that's really the least of his problems.
Through his halfwit mate Billy (Ben Chaplin), Mitchell comes into contact with local crime boss Gant (Ray Winstone) who wants Mitchell to come work for him and isn't accustomed to taking no for an answer.
Casting Winstone as a foulmouthed and extremely menacing gangster is not what you'd call original or creative, and Gant is not a particularly original character but Winstone does play the part extremely well. He oozes violence and the threat of violence in a way that is probably more about how filmmakers imagine these kind of people to be than how they actually are. But how they actually are wouldn't generate the kind of tension and fear that Gant's lumbering presence inspires.

Mitchell appears to be the only man in London willing to stand up to him and Farrell does a great job in making that opposition credible. While the many different strands that comprise Mitchell's life may not be entirely plausible he is convincing as a character and that's down to Farrell's skill. He makes us believe in the tension created by Mitchell's desire to go straight and the continuing lure of his past life dealing in violence and crime. It's a very controlled performance devoid of explosions of emotion. Even when he does resort to violence he expends the minimum effort, treating it as a necessary function not to be used gratuitously.
Knightley is reasonably believable as a kind of modern day Garbo type actress who just wants to be alone, although the huge advertising boards featuring her face which are plastered across the British capital are less so. While the intention is presumably to demonstrate her position at the heart of pop culture there's no point to them. They're not promoting anything - not a film or a perfume or a tabloid story - and not even Lady Gaga, or J-Lo or Madonna at the height of their fame - achieved that sort of ubiquity.
Visually LONDON BOULEVARD is a treat. There's a glossy, jazzy feel to cinematographer Chris Menges' images which creates an impression of sleekness and success - a sequence where Mitchell drives an open top Rolls Royce through the streets of night-time London exemplifies this - and this sense is amplified by a soundtrack which mixes classic tracks from The Yardbirds, The Stones and The Boxtops with new material from Kasabian and a moody score by the band's songwriter Sergio Pizzorno.
There's too many British gangland genre cliches and loose ends to make LONDON BOULEVARD a classic movie but there's enough plus points to keep you absorbed and entertained until the very end.