Archives for posts with tag: clive owen

This movie is definitely shading into “old favorite” territory, but I’m not sure it’s there yet. And I’m quite aware that the 4/5 rating is going to be controversial, because even I can’t really allege in good faith that this movie is actually a fine piece of cinematic art. It is probably, however, the best existing movie about Roman Britain (compare Centurion, or The Eagle, or The Last Legion, all of which are…desperate). And it might have been better if it had just been a movie about Roman Britain, instead of trying to shoe-horn it into an Arthurian mold. But again, it does that wayyy better than The Last Legion did.

It is around 450 CE. The Empire, in the west, is teetering or has teetered its last, depending on whom you ask. Christianity is doing some weird stuff. It still gets super cold in the British Isles. Arthur (Clive Owen) is a battle-hardened Roman soldier, who grew up in Britain and has served there all his life; his mother was a Briton. He leads a band of famous knights from Sarmatia on the Black Sea: Lancelot (Ioan Gruffudd), Tristan (Mads Mikkelsen), Gawain (Joel Edgerton), Galahad (Hugh Dancy), Bors (Ray Winstone), and Dagonet (Ray Stevenson). They spend most of their time keeping blue-painted, trousered people firmly on the other side of Hadrian’s Wall. They want to go home.

But they can’t go home, until they go on One Last Mission. Beyond The Wall.

Complicating matters is an army of invading Saxons, led with hilarious menace by Stellan Skarsgård and Til Schweiger (I have no idea what their characters’ names are). Also then Guinevere (Keira Knightley) shows up with a bow and a shirt made of a surprisingly small amount of string. She lectures Arthur about his loyalties and makes Lancelot feel things. It’s not really clear what, though, because what Lancelot mostly does is stare awkwardly.

And here’s my biggest problem with the movie. If you name people “Arthur,” “Guinevere,” and “Lancelot,” you have to commit to the love triangle. Especially if they’re all stupid hot. That’s one of the key things about Arthur. If you don’t want to do that, name them something else. You had to explain how this dude was Arthur anyway; why not just spend that time telling us about someone entirely new?

Stray observations:

  • Clive Owen was 40 when this came out and Keira Knightley was 19, which is surprising and possibly weird.
  • Lancelot’s two knives are just as hot as Legolas’s two knives, which is very.
  • For some reason this movie commits to caring about the Pelagian heresy, which seems like a weird thing to care about.

Director: Antoine Fuqua
Rating: R
Length: 126 minutes
Score: 4/5

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Clive Owen is a writer. Clive Owen wears a black fedora while he writes. Clive Owen is broke. Clive Owen becomes a croupier. Clive Owen narrates his life in the third person. In his own words, he is addicted to watching people lose. Clive Owen, you are beginning to suspect, is kind of a jackass.

Croupier is narrated by the main character Jack (Mr. Owen), and the conceit is that he is writing a semi-autobiographical novel as events transpire. As conceits go, it’s not maddening. But Jack himself is maddening. He’s one of those chaps who is smug about his own iron moral compass (he does not, of course, gamble), but doesn’t really seem to notice when it hurts other people. He’s living with Marion (Gina McKee), but is mostly awful to her. He is of course annoyed by and spiteful to the publisher who will probably pass on his book, because he’s the only person who’s ever not been published. He’s very punch-happy, of course in the dead-eyed, casually violent manner we all remember from his turn in 2001’s Gosford Park. And, as in that wonderful film, he hates his dad. Maybe Croupier is what got him that part.

Oh, and then Alex Kingston arrives with a sob story, a criminal scheme, and a South African accent. Events transpire. They more or less make sense, but Jack is hard to root for, even when people are manipulating him. Everyone else is perhaps still more unpleasant, but that doesn’t really help. It’s extremely trying to watch someone think he’s better than everyone else, even if it’s true.

Stray observations:

  • Clothes for women in the 90s were so terrible and ill-tailored.
  • Clive Owen looks ridiculous with blond hair.
  • I’m not gambling-savvy enough to spot a lot of casino by-play. I’m okay with this.
  • I can’t stand Alex Kingston, because my first exposure to her was in terrible seasons of “Doctor Who.” This is not really her fault, but it’s also not going away.

Director: Mike Hodges
Rating: unrated, but about R
Length: 94 minutes
Score: 3/5