Movie Review: Haywire

Gina Carano kicks ass. The former pro martial arts stars and American Gladiator spends the majority of Steven Soderberg's tense action film Haywire knocking seven bells out of the likes of Channing Tatum, Ewan McGregor, Michael Fassbender (yep, him again) and assorted extras - and it's a pleasure to see. As Louise pointed out, it's good to see a woman beating up tough guys in a movie, especially as she looks so very capable. Forget Angelina Jolie and Zoe Saldana - Gina Carano is the real thing.

Some reviewers have carped that because of this, Carano's acting chops don't quite match up to her karate kicks. To that I say: bollocks. Admittedly, this is hardly a role to stretch an actor, and I doubt she'd be able to pull off costume drama (unless it was Pride And Prejudice And Zombies), but as action heroines go she's not only believable: she's likeable. And just as good at the flirty dress-up stuff as she is the smackdowns. She's a hell of a lot more sexy and charismatic than Scarlett and not half as Terminatrix-scary as Angelina. And if you were to line her up against Sly or Arnie or Jean-Claude, she'd win in every category.

Haywire's plot is a typically convoluted affair (typical of Soderberg rather than most action movies) that'll have you scratching your head if you stop to think. Thankfully, you're rarely given a second to do so. The supporting cast, which also includes Michael Douglas (who I can't take seriously since Alan Patridge described him as "a grey crow") and Antonio Banderas, is uniformly solid and nobody seems unhappy about playing second fiddle to a virtual unknown. The weak link for me was Channing Tatum, a young actor with a head so square he can't help but remind me of Mr. Strong. Louise assures me he's not without his appeal... and along with Fassbender and Banderas, she was adequately catered for, so I didn't feel too guilty about my admiration of Ms. Carano. Something for everyone then...

Movie Review: Contagion

For years, I didn't like Gwyneth Paltrow very much. I found her whiny. 'Whiny, whiny, whiny boots of leather', I used to sing whenever she whined her way onto my cinema screen. Followed by a chorus of '6ix' by the Lemonheads, based on her unfortunate fate in the movie Se7en, notable for its refrain, "Here comes Gwyneth's head in a box". I was thrown out of many a Gwyneth Paltrow film for doing this, but it was worth it.

Yet in recent years, particularly following her standout performances in Iron Man and Country Strong, I've grown a grudging appreciation of Gwyneth's talents. Thank god then for Steven Soderberg, here in the nick of time to confirm what a skanky, disease ridden strumpet Chris Martin's missus really is. If you don't like Gwyneth, that's one damn good reason to watch Contagion right there. Nasty things do happen to her.

Nasty things happening to famous, pretty people is basically what Contagion is all about. But while I could happily sit through Gwyneth foaming at the mouth, I had less time for the unfortunate fates of Kate Winslet and Marion Cotillard. The women do most of the suffering in Soderberg's H1N1 disaster movie while the blokes do most of the whining. Matt Damon's most upset about losing his wife and child to the virus, though the worst his own symptoms get are a fat face and a bad mullet. Meanwhile, Lawrence Fishburne thinks he's still in CSI and Jude Law plays cinema's most hateful nerd, giving a bad name to bloggers everywhere. When Elliot Gould tells him "blogging's not journalism - it's just graffiti with punctuation", I almost considered hanging up my keyboard. Thank god then for Jennifer Ehle, not just the film's one true hero but also it's only brief moment of sex appeal. Even when the world's going to hell in a hand basket, it's good to know our top scientists still wear hold-up stockings.

I didn't enjoy Contagion as much as the critics. It was a competent, plausible, at times unnerving thriller that followed exactly the path you'd expect with few surprises. If you've seen Outbreak, you know exactly what's coming. That the human race is almost doomed by a pig, a bat and Gwyneth Paltrow was curiously satisfying to the misanthrope in me... but my hypochondriac side hated watching it in a packed cinema with people coughing and spluttering all around. I'd suggest watching it from inside a Jacko-style isolation tent... or the comfort of your own home. Don't talk to anyone. Don't touch anyone. Especially Gwyneth.