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.

True Grit

Well, what do you say?

It's a Coen Brothers film with Jeff Bridges. So a film by my favourite writer/directors, starring my favourite actor, who were together responsible for my all time favourite movie.

And it does exactly what it says on the poster. It's many years since I saw the John Wayne version, and the only thing I remember is "Fill your hand, you son of a bitch!" (which is present and correct). The Coens have returned to the original novel as source material, and given it a quirkiness only they could get away with. There are some wonderfully random moments that contribute very little to the main plot but do give us that "mad world" vibe the Coens play so well. The cinematography is beautiful, particularly on the opening shot, thanks to another reliable member of the Coens posse, Roger Deakins. Matt Damon proves he can play character comedy as well as he does square jawed leading man, and Bridges is... well, Bridges. The ghost of John Wayne doesn't even get a look-in.

So it's exactly the film I expected... with one exception. I'm always wary of child actors (call it the Daniel Radcliffe Is Wooden effect) so I was prepared to suck air through my teeth at the precocious kid who has to carry the majority of the True Grit plot... yet Hailee Steinfeld excels. Only 13 when she took this role, she acts the socks off most Hollywood thespians twice her age. Definitely one to watch...