DVD: Crank

Crank is quite literally 78 minutes of non-stop adrenaline pumping action, with a few minutes of credits tagged on the end. Jason Statham wakes to find he has been injected with a "Beijing Cocktail" that will kill him within the hour. The only way to postpone death is to keep adrenaline flowing through his veins. He decides that two things need to happen before he dies. He must say goodbye to his girl and kill the man who injected him.

Most action films have a pretense of depth about them with directors trying to show they are the new Tarrantino or choreograph their action scenes as if they are balletic high art. Thankfully in this regard Crank is like a child overdosing on Red Bull who has just come off a big rollercoaster, it follows one set piece with another with hardly a pause for breath. Mexican stand-offs are eschewed as they are simply too darn slow. The film veers so much into the absurd that you start to forget what normality looks like and pulls a range of stunts that seem to have come straight out of the Jackass handbook.

Statham seems to have been tailor made with films like this in mind. His wired, pissed off expression doesn't crack for the entire film and there is occasionally time for a nice few one liners. The film is a cheap, trashy, vacuous B movie that solely wants to hold your attention for every minute of it's brief running time. If only there were more films like it.

Film: Hot Fuzz

Parodies generally make for hit and miss fun that passes ephemerally by. Whilst Airplane and Naked Gun managed to maintain an audience over the years it is unlikely that recent fodder like Scary Movie will be appearing anywhere other than late night repeats on lesser digital TV channels in future years. Therefore the quality and success of Shaun Of The Dead stood out like a talented individual in a Pop Idol final. To call it a cult parody would be to undermine both it mainstream success and the emotional heart and tight plotting at it's centre.

Hot Fuzz, the new film from Edgar Wright and Simon Pegg, attempts to repeat the formula. This time the shallow but amusing premise is that a highly successful London based policeman is shunted out to a quiet country beat to stop him showing up the rest of the Metropolitan Police force. How will has hard-line urban approaching work in little England. Cue Bad Boys in a village near Bath.

Much of the cast of Shaun Of The Dead re-appear, including Nick Frost playing a markedly similar role to his previous character Ed. However the big difference is that Simon Pegg has abandoned his slacker persona to portray Britain's most effective cop. Choosing such an exceptional high flyer as the lead character makes it harder to empathize with the central story than in Shaun. Pegg's restrained acting suits the part, but it's like watching a talented footballer just playing short passes rather than attempting jaw-dropping through balls. It's only when the action cranks up in the final third that he employs his full comic range and the film lifts noticeably at this point.

Edgar Wright uses the fast cutting, amped up visual style that has served him so well and deploys it good effect, effectively taking classic Michael Bay and John Woo shots and giving them an absurd spin by way of the surroundings. His major achievement is managing to create scenes that are both adrenaline pumping and laugh out loud funny.

The cast is so ridiculously packed with stars it almost becomes a parody of it's parodic self as each minor character is taken by a starry cameo by the likes of Bill Nighy, Steve Coogan and Martin Freeman. However in the main supporting roles Timothy Dalton and Jim Broadbent are superb, with Dalton mugging more than a royal dalton factory and Broadbent underplaying to sublime effect.

The laughs in Hot Fuzz are frequent and hearty. The main comment it will attract is "it's not quite as good as Shaun Of The Dead", but since few films are half as good as that, we will gratefully receive one that is 90% as good.

Film: Perfume - The Story Of A Murderer

As soon as a novel is described as "unfilmable" and starts to amass a list of big name directors who have toyed with the project and moved on, any adaptation seems doomed to partial or total failure. Even ideal matches such as Terry Gilliam directing Fear And Loathing In Las Vegas failed to do much commercial business. So Perfume, the book of aromas that Martin Scorsese and Stanley Kubrick apparently walked away from, would seem to be damned from the off - whether by reason or just self-fufilling prophecy.

The story revolves around an orphan called Jean-Baptiste Grenouille who is born with the finest sense of smell in the world. This we know because is seems that half the film is taken up by shots of his nose twitching followed by a camera charging like a demented rugby player towards the source of the aroma. Jean is not the best adjusted of men, and his quest to distill the perfect sent starts to take a very dark and ugly turn, as the films full title "Perfume: The Story Of A Murderer" rather gives away. What next, "Titanic: A Ship That Sinks" or "Pearl Harbour: A Historical And Filmic Disaster".

The film is directed by Tom Tykwer who had a huge cult hit with his debut Run Lola Run. He also has past form with bringing troubled projects about murderers to the screen having done an excellent job with Heaven in 2002, the film that Krzysztof Kieslowski was working on when he died. Since then he has taken a long break from film-makingand the un-even tone of Perfume may reflect an uncertainty that has crept in during the years of stasis.

The source novel is very dark and serious in tone, however the film elicits a number of laughs through it's length, some clearly un-intentional and some maybe less so. The most farcical section features Dustin Hoffman as a washed up perfumier whose career is re-ignited by the talents of Jean-Baptiste. Allowing for the horrific accent that careers between Italy and America faster than Concorde ever managed, Hoffman turns in a magnetic mannered comic performance that is in completely the wrong film.

Perfume is visually stunning, as befits the most expensive German film ever made. However the story it tells is art-house rather than mainstream and the over-bearing hand of producers trying to lighten the tone lingers like the smell of burnt toast in a kitchen. So yet another "unfilmable novel" seems to justify it's billing, but there is enough here to make for an intriguing, if ultimately unsatisfying watch.

DVD: The Proposition

Nick Cave's first outing as a screenwriter feels like one of his more damned and blasted songs. To save his younger brother from the noose Charlie Burns must murderer his outlaw older brother.

However despite the film lingering heavily on Guy Pearce as he wrestles with Charlie's dilemma, the core of the film is actually the English police captain played by Ray Winstone and his wife Emily Mortimer. As he struggles to bring civilisation to the alien land of Australia he sees around him he finds his strength and morals stretched to breaking point.

Despite capturing some marvelous scenery and featuring some brutal violence, The Proposition is a verbal film, to the extent that you could believe it originated as a play. However the dialogue is not sharp enough and the film not focussed enough to truly dig it's claws in. As a single coloured mood piece that draws heavily on Sam Peckinpah's Bring Me The Head Of Alfredo Garcia it will appeal to those who like their films black, blasted and with damnation inevitable, but there is not enough here to rise above it's origins.

Book: Seeing by Jose Saramago

On a wet day in Portugal officials wait as an election takes place. When the votes are counted 80% of them are found to be blank. The confused government decides to re-run the election a week later imploring voters to cast a meaningful vote, but the result is the same and the government steadily enforces a martial law on where is starts to fear is a terrorist plot.

Seeing picks up four years after Blindness, an earlier work by Saramago based around the idea of a plague of white blindness. Both books have a gripping central theme that allows many analogies with the political state of the modern world, but both struggle to draw the reader in. Seeing is especially problematic in it's absence of paragraphs and quotation marks, requiring a high level of concentration and focus from the reader that distances them from the narrative.

Whilst Saramago clearly has a knack for great ideas, he may need to refresh his mind on some of the more basic ideas of the novel.

DVD: Aeon Flux

There is a theory that some films are so bad that they are good. Films with farcical plots, terrible acting and shaky sets that remind you of the cheap antics of directors like Ed Wood. Aeon Flux is not a film that supports this argument. It is crushingly mediocre in all departments, with blank acting performances, cliched storylines and dull production design.

The basic set-up is that four hundred years into the future a virus has wiped out all bar a final outpost of human civilisation, that lives separated from the rampant nature that has over-run the rest of the planet. Here they live in a perfect world, that resembles a fashionable shampoo advert. However something dark is happening beneath the surface and Aeon Flux sets out to find out what.

As it limps from one tired set-piece to another you wonder whether the film was every properly scripted or whether they just filmed the thing following an early brainstorming session. Aeon Flux, so bad it's bad.

DVD: Capote

A quiet and focussed view of the climax of Truman Capote's career, this is a film that bucks the trend of recent biopics by eschewing the traditional three act structure and rewarding those who know about the subject.

DVD: Grizzly Man

Grizzly Man is billed as the tragic tale of a man competing with nature as he spent 13 summers camping close to wild bears before being killed by one. The film itself is more a battle between two men, failed actor Timothy Treadwell who re-invented himself as a protector of bears and Steve Austin style wild-man and notorious director Werner Herzog who fashions this documentary about Treadwell into his personal quest to understand the man.

The footage Treadwell shot in the wild is certainly impressive stuff, and as with anyone left alone for long periods of time with just a video camera for company he soon starts opening up and giving a glimpse into why he left a life waiting tables and narrowly missing out on the Woody Harrelson part in Cheers to spend time in an awe-inpsiring Alaskan national park. In fact, phrased like that why is he being painted as the crazy one? Oh yes, that will be because of the big old bears that eat people.

More disconcerting in terms of the film is Herzog's very personal voiceover as he strains to empathize with someone who has a totally different view of life. Where Treadwell sees peace and beauty, Herzog sees chaos and barely sustained rage. This tension gives the film a real edge and avoids any cute simplifications, but too often you feel the two men are competing for your attention. in one bizarre scene Herzog films himself listening to tape of Treadwell dying before boldly instructing a friend never to listen to it and then to destroy it. This serves only to place Herzog centre stage and to pull him into the narrative of events.

As well as Herzog's physical presence, the direction is strangely artificial, with the brief pauses and wandering pans during a number of the interviews giving the piece a Brechtian avant-garde nature. All this sums up to a documentary which is constantly challenging and intriguing, but often frustrating. One to watch in a group and discuss.

Film: Pirates Of The Caribbean Dead Man's Chest

I blame Star Wars, I really do. Every since the George Lucas cash cow redefined Hollywood's view of how you make money in this game the idea of a movie trilogy has acquired some sort of divine status. Any film that rakes in a decent haul at the box office doesn't provoke thoughts of a single sequel, but two sequels. These are not cheap cash ins. No, these are the artist being able to complete their vision with adequate breathing space.

This of course is all cobblers. And on the heels of The Lord Of The Rings, The Matrix, X-Men, Underworld and others not even worthy of breath comes the second film in the Pirates Of The Caribbean trilogy. Filmed back to back with part three this allows Gore Verbinski, the auteur behind films such as Mousehunt, to complete his grand vision for this tale that was based on a Disney theme park ride. All that said the first film looked like a train wreck from a distance and proved to be a highly enjoyable piece of matinee fun, so maybe lightning will strike twice.

The film opens with the wedding of Will Turner (Orlando Bloom) and Elizabeth Swann (Keira Knightly) being knocked somewhat off schedule by them both being arrested under threat of the death penalty for allowing Captain Jack Sparrow (Johnny Depp) to escape the clutches of those flat footed British soldiers. It's a reversal of fortune that recalls such glorious sequels as Ghostbusters 2. Before Will and Liz are swinging from a gallows, Will is offered a way to save them both that involves him heading out to sea and finding Jack and before you know it swash is being buckled and main-braces are being spliced.

The film doesn't so much have a plot as a tenuous chronology that links various CGI heavy set-pieces, many of which repeat themselves in various guises throughout the film. Whilst these are executed in a perfectly competent fashion they are far from memorable and none of them stand out as a good action sequence should, like the government lobby in the Matrix. The sword play is executed without any style, often being closer to a pub brawl fought by ballerinas scared of a scratch rather than either the mesmeric samurai work of Crouching Tiger or the brutal rage you would expect of scurvy sea dogs.

The cast all reprise their roles from the first film, generally with diminishing returns. Depp is still amusing but the added screen time of his character, now pushed firmly centre stage leaves him mugging all too often to cover a barren script, whilst the attempts to make him a good guy are clear evidence that the Disney corporation wants everyone to be a role model, even a pirate with no morals. The exceptions to the "not as funny as last time" rule are Mackenzie Crook's one eyed pirate who has found good and studies his bible carefully, despite being illiterate and Orlando Bloom who couldn't have been much worse last time round.

The enemy this time round is Davy Jones, played by an unrecognizable Bill Nighy under a mass of CGi tentacles. He and his crew look like fish theme Orcs that were rejected from the initial design stages of the Lord Of The Rings trilogy and whose principle purpose is to sell action figures. They are neither scary nor amusing, just clearly a computer construct. One is left wistfully remember Geoffrey Rush ghost pirate crew of the original who thankfully were human enough most of the time to actually deliver performances.

The film also suffers from character creep with too many of the original films characters returning for cameos as well as new people arriving. Any sane editor would have hacked the film down to 90 minutes rather than the needless 150 it runs. The film is flat enough that you could randomly remove half it's length and improve it by making sure that it doesn't outstay the welcome of it's charms.

Whilst the film briefly gathers real momentum for a spell two thirds of the way through the ending, stolen straight from Empire Strikes Back, is unsatisfactory, confirming the clear feeling that the film was always going nowhere fast. If you are prepared to be patient the film's good humored banter should suffice for pantomime style fun, but less would have been so much more.

Book: Columbia Road by Matt Whyman

A book written by an internet agony uncle should probably contain two main ingredients, high technology and relationship issues. Columbia Road has both. The basic set up is that a mismatched group of tenants are unable to cover their recently inflated rent. Instead of turfing them out on the street their landlord offers them a deal. Have webcams installed to make the house a 24 hour show home for his other properties and they can stay rent free. But soon they find they have given up more than they think.

Whyman is a very immediate writer, working with short chapters and keen to throw in a cute turn of phrase to keep his readers attention. His background in writing short, light hearted insightful articles makes Columbia Road an enjoyable page turner, but the broad characters leave little room for any deep empathy.