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Lovecars: On the Road (2020)
Full Throttle Nostalgia: 'Lovecars' Shifts Gear into the Heart of Petrolheads
Since the vaunted trio of Clarkson, Hammond, and May exited stage left from "Top Gear," leaving a vacuum that seemed impossible to fill, the red-blooded car enthusiasts among us have been left wandering the desert, parched for genuine automotive entertainment. Amidst the mirages, one show emerges like an oasis: "Lovecars: On the Road." This isn't just another attempt to revive the spirit of motor enthusiasm; it's a full-throttle celebration of what makes our petrol-pumping hearts beat faster.
Seeing Tiff Needell back behind the wheel is akin to watching a master chef return to the kitchen. His effortless charm and laid-back demeanor are a breath of fresh air in a landscape littered with the half-baked antics of wannabes like Paddy McGuinness. Where shows like "Fifth Gear Recharged" meander into the mundanity of soppy SUVs and electric conveyances, Needell reminds us of the visceral thrill of proper motoring-Ferraris that roar with the might of V8s, the ballet of wheel spins, the drama of drag races. It's as if the original spirit of "Top Gear" has been reborn, with cinematography so crisp you'd swear the old crew was behind the lens once more.
Into this mix steps Paul Woodman, an unknown quantity to many, who nonetheless slots in beside Needell like a well-oiled gearbox. While Ben Collins might seem like the third wheel-superfluous, perhaps, in the dynamic-it's a minor quibble in an otherwise stellar setup.
"Lovecars: On the Road" is not just another car show; it's a beacon for those of us craving that blend of adrenaline, wit, and a touch of madness that only the best automotive adventures can provide. Here's hoping the road stretches far ahead for this outstanding series. Keep firing on all cylinders, lads.
The Hunger Games: The Ballad of Songbirds & Snakes (2023)
Off Key and Out of Tune: A Discordant Symphony
In the grand orchestra of cinematic ventures, there are those rare films that resonate with the harmonious blend of storytelling and spectacle, whisking audiences away on flights of fancy and fervour. Then, there's "The Hunger Games: The Ballad of Songbirds & Snakes," which, for lack of a more genteel expression, hits more bum notes than a drunken karaoke session at your local pub.
One can't help but feel that in its desperate clamor to be heard over the cacophony of contemporary cinema, this prequel performs a juggling act akin to playing the violin whilst riding a unicycle - admirable but fundamentally flawed. Its overture promises a symphony of suspense and socio-political commentary, yet what follows is akin to an orchestra tuning its instruments ad infinitum. The melody is lost amid a discordant clamour to check every box, creating a tune that feels more like a forced medley than a harmonious composition.
Directorial decisions aside, the plot - if one might be so bold to call it that - seems to have been co-composed by a committee intent on merging "The Hunger Games" with "Frozen," complete with inexplicable singing segments that leave one wondering if they've accidentally switched channels. This bewildering inclusion not only fractures the narrative but also screeches across the viewer's sensibilities with the grace of a cat sliding down a blackboard.
Despite a cast that tries valiantly to inject some life into this pallid affair - with special mention to Tyrion Lannister's portrayer, who appears as out of place as a penguin in the Sahara - the film ultimately suffocates under the weight of its own vanilla ambitions. It's a cinematic endeavour that's all noise, no substance.
In conclusion, "The Ballad of Songbirds & Snakes" swings wildly for the fences but ends up striking out, delivering a performance so out of tune with its original melody that even the most ardent fans might find themselves yearning for the sweet silence of the end credits. In the grand scheme of things, it serves as a stark reminder that not all that glitters is gold, and certainly not all that sings is sweet.
Race to Glory - Audi vs Lancia (2024)
Eco-Warriors Need Not Apply
In a world teeming with tweets about saving the turtles and Instagram stories of metal straws triumphantly stabbing into avocado smoothies, "Race for Glory: Audi vs. Lancia" revs onto the scene like a blast from a less apologetic past. This isn't your modern-day, battery-operated whisper on wheels; it's a full-throated roar from the era when cars had souls instead of software updates.
Let's face it, children of the era depicted in this cinematic homage understood cars. Not the soppy, sanitised, electrically-driven contraptions we're nudged towards today-no, sir. They embraced beasts wrought from steel and spirit, not recycled plastics and moral superiority. And while the world wrings its hands over carbon footprints, "Race for Glory" dares to tread heavily, leaving indelible marks of octane and adrenaline.
The film, inevitably shadowed by the spectre of "Rush"-a comparison as unavoidable as it is flattering-casts Daniel Brühl in a move that can only be described as inspired. Yet, where "Rush" seduces with its slick, sultry visuals and a modern palette, "Race for Glory" seems to stagger, burdened by its own ambition. It's akin to watching Cesare Fiorio on screen, ostensibly lost in thought-perhaps pondering over whether he left the stove on rather than strategising his next racing move.
Yet, amidst the mumbles and the haphazard storyline that seems to have been stitched together by a distracted seamstress, there lie moments of unadulterated brilliance. The film's audio might not always hit the mark, with too much of the dialogue lost in a mumble of Italian, but oh, the cars-their sounds cut through the fog like a lighthouse beacon, guiding the true petrol-heads home. It's a symphony of internal combustion that, quite frankly, might just be worth the price of admission alone.
For lovers of the Audi Quattros, this film flickers like a love letter written in gasoline-volatile, fiery, but ultimately, ephemeral. "Race for Glory" teases us with what could have been, a masterpiece lurking in the shadows of greatness, only to retreat into the mists of mediocrity.
As the credits roll, you're left dangling on the edge of your seat-not from suspense, but from a question that gnaws at the very fabric of your being: What if? In a cinematic landscape cluttered with the electric dreams and eco-conscious narratives, "Race for Glory: Audi vs. Lancia" emerges as a poignant reminder of the raw, untamed beauty of motorsport. It's a flawed ode to an era when cars were more than just transport; they were titans of the road, battling not for tweets, but for glory.
And there, just when you think you've figured it all out, the screen fades to black, leaving you pondering the future of racing, the environment, and whether true passion can ever be eco-friendly. Like a Dan Brown novel, you're compelled to turn the page, but alas, you'll have to wait. Will it be a reconciliation of past and future, or a continued ode to the petrol gods? Only time will tell, but one thing's for certain: you'll be thinking about it long after you've left the theatre.
Fifth Gear Recharged: Episode #2.2 (2023)
Flop Gear: Recharged
In the grand circus of television motoring shows, it's clear that not every act can be the roaring lion or the daring trapeze artist. Some, unfortunately, are destined to be the clown - and not in a good way. "Fifth Gear: Recharged" is exactly that - a clown, and one whose makeup is smudged and whose shoes don't squeak. Yes, another disastrous episode has limped across our screens, leaving bewilderment and yawns in its wake.
The episode's jaunt to Norway promised a smorgasbord of delights - a variable vista of views, an amazing soundtrack, and a barrage of Clarkson-esque one-liners. Instead, what we got was the visual equivalent of a soggy sandwich. Just endless shots of two painfully boring individuals in a car, accompanied by an obnoxious amount of clock-watching. The chemistry was so lacking it made me think the Hamster (Hammond) himself could've done this solo and still held the audience captive for hours with his pint-sized charm.
Then, there was the spectacle of watching Jason Plato, a name that once roared around the tracks, now pootling around in an SUV like a lost tourist refusing to ask for directions. This is where Touring Car legends come to a screeching, undignified halt. I recall meeting him once at Oulton Park, a man then full of speed and fury. Racing drivers fret about their careers ending in a twisted heap against an Armco barrier, but who would've thought Plato's trajectory would nosedive into the tepid world of mediocre television? It's like watching a Michelin-star chef resign themselves to flipping burgers.
And the conundrum that boggles the mind - why, oh why, do they all insist on cramming into a car together? If their collective presenting skills were dynamite, they couldn't muster enough blast to damage a cream puff. In some instances, their presence seems to actively erode the talents of those around them. It's like watching a group of muppets trying to solve quantum physics - utterly hopeless and mildly distressing.
In conclusion, "Fifth Gear: Recharged" is akin to a battery that you suspect is a dud. You keep it around in the hope that it might just spark some life into your remote control, but deep down, you know it's destined for the bin. It's a motoring show that's lost its way, a program that's not so much clutching at straws as it is fumbling for the ignition in a car with no engine. If this was a car, it would be the kind you push off a cliff for the insurance money. All in all, if this was a battery, you'd accept it was a dud and chuck it out, along with any notion that this show might ever get a jumpstart back to relevance.
Top Gear (2002)
Pedal to the Metal or Running on Empty? A Candid Dissection of Top Gear's Rollercoaster Ride
How does one dissect a juggernaut like Top Gear, a show that's navigated through the heights of motoring ecstasy to the potholes of television calamity? Picture this: Clarkson, in all his unapologetic glory, coaxing an SLR Mercedes over a Danish cable stay bridge, with the haunting tunes of M83 as his co-pilot. Fast forward, and we're stuck in the backseat of a bumbling ride with Paddy McGuinness, gripping our seats in a mixture of disbelief and dismay.
In its golden era, Top Gear was more than just a show; it was a Sunday ritual. Its audacity on wheels and swagger behind the wheel scripted a symphony of revving engines and screeching tyres that today's sanitised schedules can't even fantasise about. Forget ticking boxes or pandering to panels; Top Gear was the wild child of TV, thumbing its nose at the easily offended with a simple credo: 'Not your cup of tea? Switch off.'
Fearless presentation was its backbone. Where others tiptoed, Top Gear thundered, unfazed by the flak and fuelled by pure, unadulterated car passion. It wasn't just a show; it was a no-holds-barred homage to horsepower. Sure, I didn't glue myself to every frame; my remote was well-acquainted with the fast-forward button, dodging anything that didn't roar or race. But that was the beauty of it - it was the TV equivalent of a glossy car magazine, and who reads every single article in those?
Yet, here lies the irony: despite the clamour for high-octane thrills, the void left by Top Gear's heyday remains unfilled. As I muse over these thoughts, a classic Lotus Esprit breezes past my window, unnoticed by the mainstream channels. 'Fifth Gear Recharged'? A misfiring attempt. Amazon's 'The Grand Tour'? A shadow of its former self, missing that quintessential Top Gear essence.
So, what's left for an old Top Gear aficionado? A nostalgic dive into the archives, reliving the days of Audi RS6s and Pagani Zondas, and, perhaps, indulging in a wistful chuckle every time Paddy McGuinness flubs his lines.
The legacy of Top Gear, with all its imperfections, continues to outshine and outperform, like the classic cars it celebrated, never truly fading into the rearview mirror. Lets forget Evans, Flintoff and that American one what was in Friends, and remember Clarskon, May and the Hamster.
Fifth Gear Recharged (2021)
Revving into Mediocrity: Fifth Gear Recharged Misses the Mark
As the BBC's iconic Top Gear fades into the rearview mirror, terrestrial TV had a clear lane to dominate the automotive show circuit. Enter Fifth Gear Recharged, a program with the potential to seize the crown and reign supreme in the world of car enthusiasts. Yet, despite this golden opportunity, the show stalls right out of the gate.
Fifth Gear Recharged, regrettably, deflates expectations. The show's identity is as elusive as a rare vintage car, leaving viewers puzzled about its intended audience. Episodes featuring SUVs are so lackluster that even the fast-forward button feels underwhelmed. The segment on the Lamborghini, a vehicle synonymous with exhilaration, somehow manages to be devoid of any zeal. While Top Gear famously orchestrated epic showdowns like the McLaren F1 versus the Bugatti, Fifth Gear Recharged opts for tepid banter in a Scottish pub. This is not the high-octane content that petrolheads crave.
Even the BMW M50, a gem in the automotive world, loses its luster under Fifth Gear's lackluster presentation. The show transforms what should be a thrilling ride into a mundane, overcrowded car journey, reminiscent of a lackadaisical school project.
The hosting team, a seemingly random assemblage of personalities, lacks chemistry. The dynamic that once made car shows captivating is notably absent. However, all is not lost. The solution may lie in a bold shake-up: maintain Vicki Butler-Henderson and Jason Plato, whose expertise resonates with purists, and introduce an element of unpredictability - perhaps in the form of Russell Brand. While not a conventional choice, Brand's vibrant character could inject much-needed vitality into the show.
In its current state, Fifth Gear Recharged is a missed opportunity, a journey that promised adventure but delivered monotony. It's time for the producers to shift gears and steer the show towards a path that resonates with true car aficionados.
John Wick: Chapter 4 (2023)
John Wick: Chapter Bore
Maybe the screenwriters in the US were on strike when the screenplay got written; maybe they'd outsourced to the writers of Eastenders. The three main characters do sound like the start of a bad joke. I'll let you figure that out.
I do know that AI didn't write the latest chapter in the John Wick Chronicles, as no self-respecting computer would do such a lousy job.
It's as if the producers just copied and pasted the same scene 15 times, borrowing from the previous movies, until they ran out of RAM on the editing machines. There's no original story; Keanu thinks about the paycheck as every CGI 'enhanced' fight scene starts. You can see it in his eyes.
And don't mention Kevlar suits. Whoever came up with that concept should be, well, shot. And why do the bad guys all have access to handguns but nothing else?
Chapter 4 falls so far short of the first film; it's impressive. It's rumoured Sir Ranulph Fiennes has been called in to find the route back to the original.
It is highly polished. There are some great tracks in its armoury. And the overhead shooting in one of the later parts of the film was just enough to keep me watching s I'd not seen it done before.
But only just. If I'd paid for the film, I'd ask for my gold coin back.
Moneyball (2011)
Moneyball Marvel: A Grand Slam in Film's Game
With perfect casting, the stage was set,
For a film on baseball, we'd not forget.
Brad Pitt, a master, led the crew,
Jonah Hill, his sidekick, talent true.
Though baseball's not my cup of tea,
This film had me glued, in gleeful glee.
Hard decisions, well displayed,
A story of triumph, masterfully portrayed.
The question of coffee, a running gag,
When Pitt walked in, we'd surely brag.
A bittersweet note, we must address,
Philip Seymour Hoffman, we dearly miss.
Despite my disinterest in the sport,
Moneyball's story, my heart did court.
So heed my words, and watch this film,
A grand slam hit, with a powerful hymn.
In rhyming verse, I share my view,
Moneyball's a must-see, I tell you true.
Father Brown: The Gardeners of Eden (2023)
An Ecclesiastical Mystery Misfire
In the quaint village of Kembleford, there's a show that's oft absurd,
Father Brown, a series based on Chesterton's word.
But in recent times, alas, the casting's gone awry,
To watch the new episodes, one might heave a heavy sigh.
Ruby-May Martinwood, a choice that's quite regrettable,
Her acting skills are lacking, indeed, hardly forgettable.
Much like the time Shyko Amos entered Death in Paradise,
Ironically, a Ruby too, another casting compromise.
Good old Mrs. McCarthy, a character we cherished,
Departed from the series, and the charm it nearly perished.
But wait, the writers struggle with a goal that's so transparent,
To bring in gender balance, their efforts become apparent.
They scramble for equality, in crime-solving they endeavor,
Yet the replacement's meddling, a cringe-worthy endeavor.
The tales of murder, mystery, once kept us entertained,
Now leave us in dismay as the show has been so strained.
But let us not forget, a note of interest to share,
The series set in the 1950s, a time that's far from fair.
In spite of all the follies, this period piece does stand,
A reminder of the past, a glimpse of a time less grand.
With rhyming verse, I've shared the tale of Father Brown's decline,
A once-cherished series now struggles to truly shine.
So let us hope that in the future, the casting shall improve,
And the show shall rise once more, finding its perfect groove.
Aftersun (2022)
Save your tears.
A slow and self indulgent film which is too lazy to give any answers leaving the viewer to do the hard work. It felt like a sixth form project from a "quirky" student, who couldn't really be bothered actually pulling a plot together, but got their dialogue from a family holiday before the script had to be in.
It's highly polished. Beautifully edited. Well acted. I'm just pleased I watched it for free and had another film to watch afterwards.
The music works well taking the viewer back to the late 90's so it's at least feels like the right time frame.
Save your tears.
If you want something moving between child and father, try The Road.
Prey (2022)
Its official. The franchise is dead.
It's impressive how much money can be spent to make this franchise's trajectory pitch so far below the original.
Thirty minutes in and we're still waiting for the story to go beyond the unbelievable wants of a petulant child. A species advanced enough for interstellar travel and (in the original) picks off a squad of mercenaries gets a kicking.
Just terrible, bring back Dutch. It was so boring I wrote this during the films apparent big, nonsense predictably climatic scene.
Alfie (2004)
Watchable and (largely) consistent film with some nice eye candy and an easy plot
The film is well acted, presented and nicely produced. The characters feel real and there's some lovely location shots from the Waldorf Astoria to the City quayside. Close ups shots of the actors with sweet bohken don't feel cluttered or intrusive and the dialogue flows well.
Storyline is simple enough, and shows Alfie at first as a bit of a hero in life and then as the plot progresses you see the cracks in the facade leading to his true predicament in the last ten minutes of the film.
Probably the most challenging element for filming would have been Jude Law's soliloquies to the camera. These however are expertly segued in with the day to day events of the cast and add rather than detract from the story.
The hardest part of the film for me is just who it's aimed at. Initially I'd assumed it was a chick flick, good looking lead actor, lots of relationship conversations and a distinct lack of explosives or action
.
...but then Sienna Miller comes along and gets naked. In this case it just didn't feel right in terms of timing or an appropriate way to make the scenes point. There were earlier opportunities to fit this in, but it comes out of the blue and lacked the subtlety it would have been easy to achieve. That said if you've got it, flaunt it and Sienna does it with an alacrity which will be painful for those who're not as lucky as she.
The end result is a watchable and (largely) consistent film with some nice eye candy and an easy plot to follow. I'd recommend it if there's nothing else on, but there's stronger films out there if you're after a more challenging watch.