A World of Kino 41 | The Matrix Resurrections, The King’s Man, Murder on the Orient Express & more

Merry Christmas everyone! Now, I might not have watched purely Christmas movies (though I still managed a couple), but while I have one massive dissapointment that I will be getting out of the way right at the start, I shall still be gifting you a lovely collection of kino.

This first entry may very well be the hardest review I’ve ever had to write, and not because of a lack of things to say, but because it hurts so much to put it into words. While there may objectively speaking be much worse movies than this, The Matrix Resurrections is hands down my most hated film of 2021. 

Plagued by strange memories, Neo’s life takes an unexpected turn when he finds himself back inside the Matrix.

Now, let me just establish that I was definitely skeptical when this was announced, since Hollywood is obsessed with resurrecting old franchises to turn a pretty penny. But since one of the Wachowskis felt inspired enough to return, I thought she might be able to at least craft a competent and fun story to justify such an unnecessary sequel. What I was not expecting, however, was for this to be obnoxiously self-aware about the fact of its own pointless existence, turning the nostalgia bait into a point of mockery, to the point where its meta, faux cerebral concepts collapse in on themselves and the movie devolves into Hollywood schlock. I think Jeremy Jahns puts it best: “one of the reasons the whole self aware meta thing this movie was going for started to wear on me, is because the movie was joking about it… then it became what it was joking about” (youtu.be/YupBooxKaVE). A joke puts it perfectly, but it most certainly is not a funny one. Jeremy’s entire review is a fairly accurate reflection of my thoughts, though instead of simply being dissapointed at the poor quality, I outright loath everything this film stands for. 

I truly wish I could say I at least appreciated the intriguing spin of how the new matrix keeps a stranglehold over the humans, with the active feeding of blue pills and the incorporating of a matrix within the matrix in the form of Neo’s videogame blurring the lines between reality and fiction. Or even how the liberated humans have built a new society that is at peace with the machines, with the catching up that happens with Niobe pushing the mythos somewhat onto new ground. But while these made for an interesting setup, the way it executes its ideas and attempts to push an artificial plot off their back is all written so horribly, never exploring them in any meaningful depth, instead being content in distilling anything that could be called excitingly new into pure exposition (or by introducing cutesy robots, as though this were a Disney movie designed to sell toys). 

The dialogue is also atrocious. For all of the self-indulgent philosophising that happened in the old movies, there was always a level of total control to the speech in each scene, with each word deliberately chosen to either be hilariously quotable or immensely poignant. But now the characters speak with no sense of their importance, ripping apart their iconic image into a pathetic clown. Save for Jessica Henwick and maybe Neil Patrick Harris, everybody is either painfully wooden (and not in the stoic sense that worked in the original sequels) or bafflingly over-the-top (again, not in the endearing grandiosity of the trilogy), as if this entire film is just a joke at our expense. Not to mention how they bring back the Merovingian – my second favourite character in this franchise, behind Cypher – and utterly tarnish his character into some ridiculous caricature. I lowkey thought he was the Trainman at first, that’s how badly he’s been brought back. 

To top it all off, the filmmaking on display is simply embarassing, with sloppy camerawork, gross CGI and the most awful editing I’ve ever seen. Every time there was a jarring cut to footage of the original film I audibly groaned, since it was such a stupid thing to do. The fights are also a depressing shadow of the unique blend of martial arts with revolutionary techniques the Wachowskis had pioneered, opting for shoddy choreography barely hidden by nauseating cuts, almost like its trying to take a jab at Jason Bourne or some such, despite the fact that action movies have since transitioned to much sleaker fighting styles that actually look great. One would imagine that a 20 year late sequel to one of the most perfectly crafted movies ever created would look 20 years better…

It’s shocking how every single part of the production is of such dreadfully low quality, somehow being far worse than anything it could possibly be trying to mock. And again, I have to reiterate that all of this is very clearly international on the part of Lana, as the dialogue certainly never failed to remind me what a perverted joke it all was. This movie is sick to the core, steeped in a cynicism that had me desperately wanting to just leave early. But like Neo, I kept taking that damn blue pill in the hope things would get better. Of course, they never did, but no buffoonish Morpheus ever came to save me from plunging into this pit of despair.

Ok, the rest of this episode should be smooth sailing. Here’s a new release from earlier in the year, with my precious Nic Cage: Pig.

A truffle hunter who lives alone in the Oregonian wilderness must return to his past in Portland in search of his beloved foraging pig after she is kidnapped.

I must say, I wasn’t expecting the resolution to be so similar to the one in Ratatouille. But then again, Pig is a film that leaves no stone unturned in its quest to subvert expectations every step of the way. What starts with heavy John Wick vibes slowly spirals into a deconstruction of the revenge genre, setting up a myriad of intriguing puzzle pieces just to tear each one apart piece by piece with gleeful serenity. The only problem is that in the process of ripping apart any semblance of becoming yet another Wick clone, it also destroys its chances of being enjoyable.

Nic Cage is insanely good here, precisely in the fact that he isn’t acting insanely, with a rare performance that sees him being the most restrained actor in the entire cast. His rough and dirty character is played up as a mysterious figure of legendary renown, which allows him to always be the most gripping anchor even when the film veers a little too much into absurdity. But as his mystique is cleared up and is left bare as a broken man, the premise is revealed to be so inane that it both works in its brilliant simplicity, while simultaneously making for an extremely boring story. Pig is definitely fully conscious of what it’s doing, so I understand others finding greater value in it than me, but as well crafted it may be I can’t deny I did not enjoy it.

Wait a minute, I just remembered it’s Christmas. Good thing I have a couple of those to gift to you today. The first is Black Christmas.

A sorority house is terrorized by a stranger who makes frightening phone calls and then murders the sorority sisters during Christmas break.

Damn, that ending really did make my skin crawl! It’s a shame it takes so long to become gripping though, because while the first half drags on a lot, once Jess calls the police the entire final act had me fully engaged. The cinematography is surprisingly phenomenal when it comes to heightening the eerie circumstances and horrifying moments, and the POV shots for the killer are simply a touch of genius. I adore the constant misdirections, which kept pulling the rug out from under me to never lose any sense of horror. I wouldn’t call this a terrifying film per se, but it is definitely creepy, made all the more fun by watching it on Christmas.

And now for a more famous Christmas movie, I give It’s A Wonderful Life.

George Bailey has spent his entire life giving to the people of Bedford Falls. All that prevents rich skinflint Mr. Potter from taking over the entire town, is George’s modest building and loan company. But on Christmas Eve, the business’s $8,000 is lost and George’s troubles begin.

I tried watching this once before, but got fed up by the sappy romance, so I switched off early on. Thankfully, rewatching it in the cinema for its 75th anniversary allowed me to finally appreciate all it does – and yes, I now enjoy the romance. That dance scene at the start is still… not the best… but the way the story develops had me fully gripped. Through a heartfelt, dramatic exploration of the joys and lows of life, It’s A Wonderful Life is a sweetly sincere film that wears its heart on its sleeve. 

James Stewart is phenomenal here (though of course, when isn’t he?), winning the adoration of the townsfolk for his generosity and integrity, yet succumbing to increasing frustration as his dreams become crushed and his responsibilities squeeze the will for life out of him. It’s a long build up, but it leads to him wishing he’d never been born, which results in the sequence that this film is most famous for. His gradual realisation of his importance to so many is brilliantly done, though I can’t help but feel this moment is rushed compared to the meticulous unfolding that happened prior. Still, it allows for Stewart to display his very best, and paired with Donna Reed and the rest of the bountiful cast, the beautiful ending makes this a very satisfying experience for Christmas.

 There’s been too many American productions in this episode. So for a quick reprieve, allow me to take us to China for Ip Man.

A semi-biographical account of Yip Man, the first martial arts master to teach the Chinese martial art of Wing Chun. The film focuses on events surrounding Ip that took place in the city of Foshan between the 1930s to 1940s during the Second Sino-Japanese War.

The action in this movie is incredible. The tone is light-hearted at the start, with floaty movement that makes the fights more a point of comedy than tension. But the complete tonal shift that happens as the Japanese invade, sees what was once a game to Ip Man and his friends become a source of inspiration to keep them alive. Unrestrained, each punch becomes a deadly blow, with every thump and crack eliciting such a visceral reaction within me. The fights naturally remain entertaining for the sheer mastery on display, but gone is the playful, grin-inducing fighting, in its place duels to the death where the stakes heighten the surrounding drama immensely. Each beat is hit with perfect precision, the events that happen made all the more important and intriguing by having such a strong historical background. But this isn’t by any means a dour film, despite the aesthetic saying otherwise. Just because the emotional beats swell with an earnestness that is sorely lacking these days, doesn’t mean that the laughter ever dies down, each scene striking the appropriate balance of grace and serenity with sheer brutality – much like Ip Man’s own Kung Fu style.

So Matrix 4 didn’t work for me, but thankfully that wasn’t the only new release this week. While The King’s Man hasn’t been all that well received, I really liked it.

As a collection of history’s worst tyrants and criminal masterminds gather to plot a war to wipe out millions, one man must race against time to stop them.

I get the feeling this film isn’t getting more praise simply from a misplacement of expectations. The trailers certainly don’t help in completely mischaracterizing what this movie is going for, because it is definitely attempting to become something much more meaningful than just another Bond spoof. Well, calling Kingsman merely a Bond spoof might be wrong though, since the franchise has taken a life of its own with its uniquely rich style – and the films were never lacking in emotional beats. But while I enjoyed the sequel, I do believe the franchise desperately needed a revamp in vision, since making this prequel with the same level of silliness just wouldn’t work. The King’s Man fulfills that need (almost) perfectly.

Kingsman prides itself for crafting exhilarating fights in a veneer of politeness, all to the tune of an absurdist take on politics. The exquisite choreography between charming gentlemen and zany villains is all still there in full force, but it’s heightened by its unfiltered entrenchment in real history. Now, this is a history that can often feel like a sparknotes presentation and pantomime rolled into one, but almost all of it is surprisingly lifted straight from reality – the joys of watching historical movies with a grandfather passionate about history. I honestly just adore the concept of all these famous events being the result of covert organisations (both good and bad) pulling the strings and butting heads. Yet as absurd as some of the events might seem, these are all in service to strengthening the bond between our main characters (father, son, and both servants), with Fiennes and Arterton being especially precious. Without spoiling anything, the personal story is taken in a direction I did not expect in the slightest, and yet when it happened, the thematic threads tied together gorgeously.

What I think has people most conflicted is not in the fact that the narrative goes into more serious territory to the previous installments, but rather that it’s tonally confused. While I enjoyed how cartoonishly machiavellian it became at times, I admit that the scenes atop the mountain are jarring in how different they are to the brutality of the trenches – the twist villain was also awfully handled, even if he’s more than made up for by the glory of Rasputin. But it’s this difference in tone that is precisely the point of creating this origin story for Kingsman. The fantastical nature of aristocrats saving Great Britain from the shadows, is a fantasy born out of the realisation that the conventional, visible warfare of history sees men needlessly dying for their country. The King’s Man is an unabashedly patriotic movie that damns the overt nationalism caricatured in the other countries (Scotland devising World War 1 and the Communist Revolution just to get back at England is hilarious though). But most importantly, it gives a thematic justification for why Kingsman is so larger than life, since their etiquette in battle is the result of wanting to never return to the pointless slaughter of traditional warfare. This is the thematic core of this prequel to a series that wouldn’t be controversial to call style over substance, because while the style has always been amazing to look at, The King’s Man transforms that style into the foundation for its incredible substance.

I understand where people are coming from when they say the tones mismatch, but while it’s possible that the intended effect simply wasn’t delivered as well as it could have been, it worked wonders on me. If you rid yourself of what you think a Kingsman movie ought to be, I think you will find immense value in the new direction Vaughn is trying to take the franchise in, since the heart in this film is a beautiful thing to witness. I love all three films for their own reasons – so I truly hope this franchise can keep going strong – but I genuinely think The King’s Man might be the best to date.

For my final film, and the only 5 star of the week, I give you Murder on the Orient Express.

Genius Belgian detective Hercule Poirot investigates the murder of an American tycoon aboard the Orient Express train.

I really don’t understand why people disliked this film so much. It’s such a perfectly crafted film, with dialogue that manages to be hilarious, clever and poignant, all presented with the most gorgeous visual flare. The motif of refracting the characters faces might be a little cheesy, but by being simply a single element of the cinematography’s vast visual repertoire, it’s such an excellently subtle way to seed the subtext. 

But my most beloved aspect of this film is hands down Kenneth Branagh, because in both directing and acting, everything he pours into this Christie adaptation is filled with overwhelming love. It’s such a pleasure to watch the man at work, and is no doubt the reason this film is so damn entertaining and mesmerising to look at. In fact, I love this entire cast so much, with each phenomenal actor bringing such a unique personality to their character, creating a fun dynamic that deepens the murder mystery exponentially. 

I thought my opinion would mellow on a rewatch, but my resolve that this is among Branagh’s very best works has only strengthened. I adored Murder on the Orient Express when I first watched it in the cinema, and I adore it now on Christmas. I truly cannot wait for Death on the Nile – which was so cheekily set-up at the end of this, 5 years too early.