comedy

There is no formula for making a perfect kids film, yet studios have set up entire animated devisions that churn out movies under the tried-and-tested “jokes for the parents and jokes for the kids” formula. The twin assumptions that filmmakers don’t feel children are sophisticated enough to understand certain jokes in a movie tailor-made for them and that parents also need to be pandered to in order for them to enjoy the film are relatively new. After all, back in the early days of silent cinema, most movies were experiences for the entire family, with everybody (no matter how young or old) being catered to equally.

No matter how good their circumstances are, many young people wish they were born in a different time, in a different place, belonging to a different generation they believe they fit in with more. This is almost definitely due to the influence of pop-culture; the 80’s weren’t exactly the best time to live in, yet show a John Hughes movie to any impressionable teenager and they will almost definitely long to have lived in that time period. While We’re Young, the best film to date from director Noah Baumbach, takes a unique look at this theme in the space of one of the best movie montages in recent memory – whereas the young, hipster types long to live in an area of vinyls, VHS tapes and typewriters, the ageing are trying to stay relevant to today, filling their lives with useless technology in order to stay relevant in an ever changing society.

I have to admit, I was a little excited to see that a sequel had been made to The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel. I had liked it and was curious as to what had happened to the characters. But what is more, I went to see the first film with my grandmother and I knew how much she and her friends liked it.

Unfinished Business was something of a surprise to hear about, but the combination of Vince Vaughn, Tom Wilkinson and Dave Franco was enough to convince me that it might be worth a shot. Coming across as a clichéd but entertaining story of down on their luck business men on a European jaunt, I expected some impressive improvisational comedy from Vaughn, some gravitas from Wilkinson, and maybe something worthy of note from Dave Franco (who was great in Now You See Me). But, as we all know, expectations are a dangerous thing.

An animated film that is targeted towards young children should be colorful, with lots of movement and hopefully an outlandish character or two. Most importantly, though, it must have heart. It should tackle themes that are important to kids, and provide lessons that they can take away from the cinema and begin to apply to real life, not just in the way that they behave but also in the way that they understand the world around them.

Silo is a short film made by the filmmaker David Soll and starring Chris Green. Like many short films Silo is a silent piece (without dialogue but not without sound). But unlike many shorts, which like to take a brief and artistic approach to a story, Silo has been made with a clearly structured narrative.

One of the worst clichés that appears in an alarmingly large number of movies is the “two kinds of people in this world” speech. In Focus, Will Smith’s suave con artist Nicky Spurgeon tells his protégé/part-time lover Jess Barrett (Margot Robbie) his version of the done-to-death cliché: there are two types of people, hammers and nails.

First, think of the most overused plot of an espionage action thriller. Throw in a young, rebellious kid who dares to walk in his father’s once-proud footsteps. Finally, mix in a cartoonish super-villian with unbelievable plans to destroy the world and a super-secret spy agency that is at their wit’s end in their attempts to stop him.

What We Do In The Shadows is a mockumentary that expertly takes the piss out of the currently very glamorous pop culture status of the historic monster, the vampire. It initially features four vampires who live together in a flat in Wellington, New Zealand. All have arrived there for different reasons:

In an era when Hollywood is running out of ideas more than any other previous point in its century-long history, the big studios’ desire to unnecessarily remake everything grows even more unwelcome. It’s not that good remakes can’t be made (after all, The Departed, The Fly and a Fistful of Dollars all exist), but modern audiences are so skeptical of remakes that they tend to stay away in droves. The remakes only seem to happen presumably so that the studios can maintain the copyright to the originals and continue to make heaps of money.

Pretty much every big screen reboot of a beloved childhood TV show has been terrible. Yet for people with a certain nostalgia for it, they will end up loving it regardless of quality. I never watched the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles when I was growing up, which is why I can recognize that the recent Michael Bay-produced reboot is terrible, but a worrying amount of people I’m friends with can’t see it as anything other than an extension of what they loved when they were younger.