Today, I scanned a few reviews for Spike Lee's remake of the classic 2003 South Korean thriller Oldboy, a film that many - myself included - felt didn't require a Hollywood version. And what do you know, critical consensus seems to be unanimous: it sucks. Not because they decided to remake it in the first place (although that bias is certainly evident in a few reviews), but because Lee's version does nothing to distinguish itself as a raw, potent, film-going experience, one that lingers in your memory long after you've left the theatre. Granted, all of these reviewers had seen - and lauded - the original film, but the same opinion also seems to be coming from casual viewers who've never watched the original.

It begs the question: how does Hollywood keep screwing up remakes so badly? For the past ten years, nearly without fail, "remake" has become a dirty smear word, indicating a bottom-of-the-barrel approach to a beloved concept, all in the name of making a few bucks. Surely, if you start with something that's great (or even pretty good), then all you theoretically have to do is improve it, right? How can this be so hard?

And don't tell me that it's just because "all remakes suck". Pacino's Scarface was a remake. John Carpenter's take on The Thing was a remake. Cronenberg's The Fly? Remake. Hell, even the classic Humphrey Bogart noir detective story The Maltese Falcon was a remake. And these are all terrific films, to the point where they've earned a place as iconic works of art. Remakes can work. All it takes is the right approach, a bit of balls on the part of the key creatives, and perhaps a little less economic fear from the studios.

So, in the interest of creative optimism, here are five things I would recommend Hollywood keep in mind the next time they decide they want to pop out a new version of Back to the Future.

5. Don't be afraid to take risks
Here, in Australia, we are about to be subjected to the release of Kim Pearce's version of Carrie. The film has been out in the States and parts of Europe for a few months, and has largely been panned by critics; like Oldboy, because it sticks so closely to the original, it offers little in the way of uniqueness or inventiveness. This approach might not result in a bad film, but it does produce a highly-uninspired and unnecessary one, lacking in its own sense of surety, and kowtowing to what it knows the audience liked about the original.

If you're going to remake another story, you can't be afraid to try something different. Scarface succeeds in doing this in spades, changing up the setting, the characters, and much of the storyline, but still keeping the original's core themes, motivations and message intact. It is a very different film to the original (the fifty-odd-year gap plays a part, too), one which transcends the original to become its own beast entirely. If you're going to remake something, don't be afraid to spice it up a bit with some elements that might not have been present in the original.

There is, of course, a fine line between changing things up in service to the story, and changing them so much that you might as well call the movie something else entirely. But on the whole, it's important to offer something unique, which makes the movie stand apart from its inspiration. Otherwise, really, what's the point?

4. Do NOT compromise

One of the worst habits with remakes is to make them as box-office-friendly as possible. The original was a hard 'R'? That's not getting asses in seats. Bloodless PG-13 it is! Oh, it was a revered horror movie? Better make it twenty-thousand-times gorier than the original, then. No, screw the plot. Just gets in the way of the violence. Kids love them some torture porn. Whaddya mean, it was an allegory for something? Don't you know those don't work today? Fuhgeddaboutit!

One of the key things in remaking a good film is not compromising on what made the original great. Let me give you an example. The original The Texas Chain Saw Massacre - yep, that's how it's written - is regarded as one of the great 70's horror films, made on a shoestring budget, and constructed with a somewhat dirty, shot-in-your-backyard vibe. The movie courted enourmous amounts of controversy for years, to the point where it was banned in many countries for nearly three decades. But guess what? Its power isn't in its gore factor. There isn't any (or rather, so little, that it makes CSI look like Saw XIX). Its power is in its ability to simultaneously creep out, disturb, and shock the viewer, creating an unsettling world, which makes the skin crawl just thinking about it. Yeah, Leatherface and his chainsaw are cool - but they're only a small piece of a deeply messed-up pie, one which succeeds in frightening you rather than grossing you out.

This key element wasn't entirely ignored by Michael Bay and his cronies at Platinum Dunes when they attempted their 2003 remake. It was just watered-down, distilling the antagonists into freaky-deaky cartoons, and nullifying the effectiveness of the situational horror with cheap jump-scares and stereotypical slasher conventions. It was, to put it simply, compromised to make it as palatable to mass audiences as possible. Whilst the tactic was financially successful ($107 million at the box office isn't bad), the film is reviled by most of its target audience - horror fans. It was also hammered pretty hard by critics, and is now a footnote in the history of shitty remakes. Its follow-up prequel was even worse. In the end, compromise can only ever produce a product - and all products have limited shelf lives. True art hangs on the wall of the Louvre for centuries.

3. Contemporary doesn't have to mean 'contemporary'

In remaking a film made twenty or more years ago, there is an inevitable element of contemporary change. Which is fine, the film you're making's set now, so no harm there. What's important, however, is not to make the film fit the contemporary setting, as opposed to the other way around. We don't necessarily want to see Freddy's victims researching him on the internet, nor do we care if Carrie White's troubles wind up on YouTube. The key thing we paid our money for was the story, and if you're gonna wash it down with a thousand modern pop-culture references, iPhone gags, and internet chicanery, without making it cleverly and effectively serve the story, leave that shit right out.

This is actually the one thing the Texas Chainsaw remake got right - by keeping the original's 1970's setting, it allowed a simpler form of storytelling. Yes, we get it, people nowadays are obsessed with Snapchat and Katy Perry. But the second that stuff starts to overtake the story - when you spend more time trying to make your characters dead-on reflections of the audience - is the moment you begin to lose the essence of what the original accomplished. I'm not opposed to having a modern-day version of a classic character. What I am opposed to, is spending ages saying, "Look! This version's just like the original, but now he's a whizz with a cell phone! And he listens to Wiz Khalifa! Talk about a clever update, huh?"

Talk about lazy writing, more like. If it's incidental and used well, then fine. No oppositions here. But don't think having characters or settings from "today" means that every facet of the 21st century needs to be rammed down our throat. Trendy references and playing up "buzz" topics is not a way to make a character relate-able. Having the characters act and respond to situations the same way we would - or, in the case of villains, wouldn't - is.

2. Don't just pick on the greats

The curious thing about many remakes, is that they're invariably of very well-known, well-made films. Texas Chain Saw. The Karate Kid. Footloose. Total Recall. Carrie. A Nightmare on Elm Street. RoboCop. Etc, etc, etc. These are all highly-loved and regarded films. The only real exception is horror, where there seems to exist remakes of remakes. Granted, many are terrible, low-budget, VOD distractions, but they exist all the same.

But what about those films that originally had legitimate potential to be 'great', and just fell short? There are many films out there that were enjoyable, with a nugget of an awesome idea, but perhaps lacked the money or the ability to turn it into something truly special. If Hollywood really wants to try something that'll bring in both nostalgia buffs and new audiences, without the stigma of immediate fan backlash, they could do worse than starting with something that isn't going to make people scream "YOU RAPED MY CHILDHOOD!!!" on forums everywhere.

Classic films are regarded as classics for a reason. The first time around, what they did, more often than not, they did absolutely right. Sure, some effects might be cheesy, or some performances a bit over the top, but they succeeded in telling the story they wanted to tell. They resonate, even to this day, with audiences everywhere. But some films, for whatever reason, might have gotten to that stage, and failed. I can think of several (both horror and sci-fi are rife with them, particularly from the Eighties).

Essentially, what I'm saying is, rather than starting from the top, start further down. Look at the middling-to-average films that might not have the pop culture clout of the classics, and see if maybe you can breathe new life into them instead (bearing in mind that the points listed above still stand). But be careful, though, because this does lead into my final point...

1. Decide whether it's even worth it
This one should be the most obvious. Before attempting a remake, it's important a studio should ask itself: can this film even be remade? Quite simply, in the eyes of the Hollywood money spinners, the answer is always invariably "yes". But, at the same time, this is where an element of balls comes into it. Ideas get bandied around by producers all the time, to remake this, or that, or reboot that one film that was "good", but would've done much better if it had've starred Emma Stone. It takes a brave soul to be willing to stand up and firmly say, "No", when everyone asks that question.

Some movies just aren't worth the hassle. Time and time again, a remake that might seem like a good idea on paper, turns out to be a total clusterfuck in practice. For every The Departed, there's ten Carries, remakes which leave a bad taste in the mouths of viewers. Whilst many modern remakes make some money, it's invariably never enough to justify the film's existence. If the movie isn't going to be a guaranteed winner, either critically or commercially, then why even bother?

If a remake must be made, then it's important to take the time, and make the effort, to ensure it's the best possible film it can be. If the effort can't be made, or the original movie can't be improved upon, then just don't bother. Slap a new coat of paint on, cast Gerard Butler, and call it Olympus Has Fallen. At least then, you can leave fans with a mediocre effort that doesn't rile their blood because you shat all over the name of Die Hard. That's what sequels are for.

To many, the partnership of Tim Burton and Johnny Depp (with a healthy dose of Helena Bonham Carter thrown in for good measure) has started to produce material that is, to put it bluntly, trying too hard to be a "Tim Burton-Johnny Depp Film". All of the typical elements that used to work together to create something fun and different have begun to create a template of sub-par entertainment that means decent dollars for the studio, but only a shade of the former enjoyment for the masses. Just check out this video for proof as to how Burton's films have spawned their own generic offshoot, the Burton-Depp Blockbuster.

Now, I haven't watched the original series of Dark Shadows upon which this latest effort is based, but I've certainly heard of it. I've heard it described as "Passions with actual writing, Days of Our Lives meets Buffy, but in a good way". In other words, a supernatural soap opera which isn't shit, but actually watchable. To me, that sounds like perfect Burton fodder. So what went wrong in bringing this thing to the big screen?

Really, it's a little hard to put one's finger on any one thing, but to me, it comes down to tone, or rather, the film's highly-uncomfortable handling of it. This is a movie that's largely been marketed as a horror-comedy, but doesn't do enough work on either of those fronts to merit anything notable. More than anything else, Dark Shadows is a hodgepodge of ideas, some that work, and a lot that don't.

The film follows Barnabas Collins (Depp, channelling every English-accented role he's played before, but leaning a little heavier on Sweeney Todd), a wealthy young nobleman of English birth, raised in Maine in the 1800's, and latest in a line of highly-successful fishing enterpreneurs. Barnabas is in love with the lovely Josette (Bella Heathcote), but due to his philandering ways, had also strung along the far-more-desirable Angelique Bouchard (the far-more-desirable Eva Green). Turns out, Angelique is a witch with an obsessive streak, and after being spurned by Barnabas, uses her magic to force Josette to commit suicide, and turns Barnabas into a vampire, so that he may live with his suffering for all eternity. He's then locked in a casket for nearly 200 years, before being revived in the 1970's.

After his awakening, and all the (forced) culture shock that the situation demands, he decides to help the latest generation of the Collins family - stolid matriarch Elizabeth (Michelle Pfeiffer), her sleazy brother Roger (Jonny Lee Miller) and children Carolyn (Chloe Grace Moretz) and David (Gulliver McGrath) - reclaim their rightful position as fishing magnates, thus restoring the familial fortune and glory that's waned in the interceding years.

Unfortunately for the Collins clan, Angelique is very much alive and well, and is now the reigning queen of the local town empire. Thus, it's up to Barnabas to overcome Angelique for the good of the Collins name.

Now, with that simple synopsis, one can imagine a whole host of good ways this film could've gone. Unfortunately, that tonal problem keeps rearing its ugly head, and it creates issues that become quite glaring to the casual viewer. We know Barnabas is a noble soul, who simply wishes to help his family, whilst also courting obvious-Josette-reincarnation Victoria (Heathcote again, proving that dual roles don't really require much more of a stretch than a simple accent-and-hair change). The problem is, he's also a vampire who rather unrepentently kills at will - forget the tortured stuff, because, whilst it starts that way, his willingness to simply take out anyone when it's convenient overwhelms it quite quickly. It makes it fairly difficult to sympathise with the character, and his casual attitude to killing and manipulating people does nothing to help his cause.

Added to this is moments the film tries to play off as 'funny', but ultimately don't work that way - one scene onvolving Miller's character and his onscreen son McGrath is just flatly uncomfortable, whilst others come smack-bang in the middle of dramatic moments that don't lend themselves to comedy. It's as though Burton started out making one film, and then decided halfway-through to make another entirely, resulting in scenes that just don't match what happened five minute earlier. There's also some shoe-horned moments of supernatural development that would've been far more intriguing, had there been some indication earlier on that they were coming.

The performances are probably one of the film's only two strong points - the other is the superb seventies soundtrack - and it's what elevates Dark Shadows from total crap to something half-watchable. Depp's usual schtick aside, Pfeiffer and Miller are quite solid, the ever-reliable Jackie Earle Haley entertaining as drunken groundskeeper Willie Loomis (yep, his character is Groundskeeper Willie sans accent), Moretz approriately surly as tearaway teen Carolyn, and Helena Bonham Carter suitably, well, Bonham Carter as family therapist Dr. Julia Hoffman. But entertaining performances aside, the script from meta-novelist Seth Graeme-Smith (technically his first screen credit) fails to take its fantastic parts, and mesh them into an overly-enjoyable whole. 

Technically, there's nothing wrong with Dark Shadows; and yet... and yet. It's a movie that had the potential to be far greater than what it is, even with its current ingredients, and it's a shame that that statement is so concrete. If anything, if this had been made by a different director, we might've said "oh, Tim Burton would've nailed this". But because it IS Burton, now we simply say "Eh. Tim Burton, what'd you expect?", which is a true tragedy. Burton may be one of the great geniuses of our age, but films like Dark Shadows, unfortunately, prove his detractors right; that this is what happens when genius runs out of ideas, and is content to coast along on it's usual artistic route: it creates something not horrible, but just completely uninspired and, dare I say it, boring.

I love Tim Burton. But God help me if he does something like this again.

Rating: 2/5

Four years worth of effort has finally come to this. Ever since Samuel L. Jackson illicited a large-scale "WTF?" from the world by popping up after the credits of Iron Man, Marvel Studios have been patiently, methodically paving the way for cinema's first-ever multi-film epic crossover. Sure, there've been a couple of stumbles - not a lot of people saw The Incredible Hulk, and Iron Man 2 was average at best - but with last year's one-two punch of Thor and Captain America, it seemed like Marvel's grand plan could actually work. Throw in exalted nerd king Joss Whedon, and the ingredients were finally all in place for what could be the greatest superhero movie ever made.

So, is it?

Short answer: No. It's not. But it's sooooo freakin' close, it hurts.

The Avengers is very definitely the greatest film to come out under the Marvel Studios banner, and easily one of the most epic superhero movies to ever grace the screen. It probably has one of the best line-ups of awesome characters played by equally-awesome actors, and one of the best handlings of an ensemble you'll see outside of 12 Angry Men.

So what's the problem? Well, let's be realistic here. The hype surrounding this, the four years and five films' worth of build-up, the hiring of Whedon, a comic writer of note, and a budget equivalent to the GDP of many third world countries, have all produced expectations so enormously inflated, it seems impossible that a mere 'film' would be able to match them. No matter what, practically every film has its imperfections, and the bigger the hype, often, the bigger the disappointment. Whilst The Avengers doesn't match its hype, and has its fair share of flaws, all of the points listed above still stand, and it is still very much one of the greater epics to come our way in a long time.

The set-up is established very quickly: Loki (Tom Hiddleston), brother of Thor (Chris Hemsworth), comes to Earth to steal the Tesseract, a relic capable of opening a portal between worlds (some of you may remember it as the cube thingy Hugo Weaving was jonesing on in Captain America). After he's successful, SHIELD head honcho Nick Fury (Jackson, finally getting to do something other than set up the next movie) initiates a plan to retrieve it, pulling the help of Tony Stark (Robert Downey Jr.), a.k.a. Iron Man; Steve "Captain America" Rogers (Chris Evans), still trying to adjust to the modern world after 70 years on ice; Dr. Bruce Banner (Mark Ruffalo), hiding out in India to contain the rampaging Hulk; and Natascha "Black Widow" Romanoff (Scarlett Johannson), one of SHIELD's leading agents, who's also trying to rescue fellow agent Clint "Hawkeye" Barton (Jeremy Renner) from Loki's control. It's not long before Thor himself shows up and joins the effort, and Loki very swiftly declares war on the Earth.

One of Whedon's greatest strengths is characterisation and banter, and this easily became the major element of the film I enjoyed the most. Although there was the expected slightly-more-focus on the popular Downey as Stark, everyone else was nicely fleshed-out and well-rounded (even if they didn't have a great deal to do), and no one character was really portrayed stronger than anyone else. Everyone also got their own action moment to shine, and there were some truly spectacular set pieces to showcase everyone's various abilities, leading up to the much-publicized siege of New York shown in all of the trailers.

That siege, nearly a half hour long, is one of the greatest things Marvel has put to screen, and reinforces the fact that, unlike every previous Marvel film, this time there's as much emphasis on action as character. Those worried Whedon's relative inexperience with a large-scale production would work against him, fear not: not only has he produced the most action-heavy film of the stable so far, much of that action is pure comic book inventiveness that, at its best, is just exhilarating to behold.

The only major problem is that the film doesn't really focus on the characters as 'people' - I know that's an odd criticism to make regarding a film about superheroes, but most of the characters have fairly tragic elements to their personal lives that are only mildly touched upon. Whilst the cast do a great job bringing the required amount of pathos needed to demonstrate their inner pain and turmoil, adding some scenes which actually addressed these elements would've been nice, as well as humanizing. This leads on to the other, smaller complaint that the element of danger seems fairly small when you're watching these guys get thrown through buildings and cars without a scratch - there's no doubt in your mind they're coming out on top, unlike in the previous films, where they each faced a very tangible, physical threat to their personal safety.

Complaints aside, though, this is exactly what you want it to be in perhaps the most important respect: 140 minutes of pure, unadulterated fun. The Avengers is a ride, fast, loud, brash and colourful, and like all great rides, when you get to the end, you do just want to get back on and go again. From the fantastic cast dynamic to the gob-smacking set pieces (which just get bigger, and bigger... and bigger), to Tom Hiddleston's gleefully-unhinged Loki, this is popcorn at its best, dumb as a post, utterly unapologetic, and truly glorious.

Bring on the sequels, Marvel; the plan's working like a charm.

Rating: 4.5/5

Everyone's pretty familiar with the good ol' fashioned "cabin in the woods" formula, one of the most tried and true set-ups known to horror cinema. Mainly because, from a film-making point of view, it's one of the easiest formulas you could use: Dark, dingy cabin. Dumb, partied-up young people. Unspeakable bloodthirsty terror. Cue much carnage. From the seventies onwards, it's a formula that's been served up time and again, sometimes with a dash of variation, but usually the same gory outcome that we all know.

Co-writers Joss Whedon and Matt Goddard know that we know that, and have decided to mess with us for all it's worth. The result is one of the most gleefully-fiendish, elaborately-constructed horror films to come along in years. Oh, and it's also bitchingly funny.

Revered Buffy, Firefly and Dollhouse creator Whedon - currently cresting the wave by adding "esteemed director of The Avengers" to that handle - and Cloverfield writer Goddard (here making his directorial debut) have created a film that both subverts the genre it's in, whilst also being an effective, visceral addition to it as well. There is a knowing wink, yes, but it's also swiftly followed by a fear-inducing "boo!" straight afterward.

Many reviews for this film - which saw its Stateside release a couple of weeks ago, but which we in Oz won't get until June - have all stated that it's best going into Cabin knowing as little as possible, and just allowing the action to unfold. I agree with this, up to a point; the much-vaunted 'twist' on the genre that's been spoken of, isn't a big spoiler twist, but a fundamental part of the storyline right from the get-go. It's okay to know about this going in, and I would actually highly advise it, in light of reports about audiences in the U.S. not responding to the film purely because they didn't know and simply assumed it did exactly what it said on the tin. People bemoan the lack of originality all of the time, but if they're surprised with it, they're often equally hostile.

So, in the interest of trying to give you an informed opinion about The Cabin in the Woods, I will talk about the so-called 'twist' - if you truly don't want to know anymore, stop reading NOW.

...

Everyone else's gone? Good. Then let's get on with it.

So we have the standard set-up for your basic 'cabin' movie: there's a cast of beautiful young things (and one dweeb), a decrepit cabin, and a rapidly-unfolding bloodbath. What's different? Every element - from the creepy old guy warning them away, to the circumstances forcing them into making certain choices, to the faceless horrors coming for them in the night - are carefully being controlled and engineered by a team in a high-tech facility, running a psuedo-Truman Show scenario. Like I said, it isn't a spoiler to know this, as we're shown right from the start. Why are they doing it? Well, for that, you will have to watch and find out for yourself.

The main cast are fairly solid, playing archetypes that also start out fairly against type. There's the brainy heroine, Dana (Kristen Connolly), nursing a wounded heart; her best friend, Jules (Anna Hutchison); Jules's hunky boyfriend, Curt (future Avenger Chris Hemsworth, pre-Thor); Curt's old friend Holden (Jesse Williams); and conspiracy-spouting stoner Marty (Fran Kranz). Despite their standard typing, there's some nice realistic nuances - for example, Curt's actually really smart, whilst the somewhat bookish Holden is also a football whizz - that marks them out differently. The group take a trip to Curt's cousin's lakeside cabin, and play right into the scenario created by a shadowy organization, represented through two controllers, Sitterson (Richard Jenkins) and Hadley (Bradley Whitford), simply two white-collar workers with a job to do, which in this case, involves orchestrating the deaths of the newly-arrived group.

The film does a great back and forth between the two sets of characters, giving us ringside seats to the macabre show, and things really get exciting once characters start figuring things out, and roadblocks are introduced to the grand plan. The sense of humour - and it's a really strong one, coming from Whedon - helps drive the quieter moments, until the horror elements are allowed to overtake and turn things violently upside-down. Despite the deliberate formulaic-ness of the horror scenes, there's still some highly creepy and effective stuff, and a great sense of tension throughout, that manages to wonderfully spread to the control room. Whedon and Goddard take the greatest delight in throwing up many established horror tropes, just so they can tear them down, resulting in a real feast for hardcore horror buffs and enough for casual fans to appreciate too.

The third act does manage to get a bit ridiculous and gloriously over the top, but the sense of breathless, terrifying energy that keeps it moving also kicks up a notch, leaving us at a point of needing to know just where they're going with this. And whilst it could have gone somewhere truly brilliant, the film-makers opt instead for an ending that's satisfying, whilst also being ultimately straight-forward and basic, prompting a slight twinge of disappointment (although not so much that it undoes all the good work that came before it).

In spite of the slight problems, The Cabin in the Woods manages to easily be one of the best, most effective horror films of recent years, although many people will likely regard it as more of an interesting experiment than anything else. It's greatest strength - sheer 'WTF?' originality - will also be it's biggest weakness to many audiences, but for those who love a great, different ride, strap in - this one's definitely worth it.

Much has been made of the fact that American Reunion - or American Pie: Reunion as it was released in countries where Hollywood marketing execs think you're an idiot - is one big nostalgia trip for a certain generation, the last of the early Gen Y, pre-iPhone mob, those of us who remember the days when the internet was used only as a tool for connecting with porn instead of friends, when musical artists were signed and released based on artistic merit, as opposed to being spat-out a hundredfold from TV shows, and when raunchy teen comedies were a rare novelty from the late eighties until, well, 1999, when they suddenly started being cranked out at an alarming rate.

I was thirteen when the original American Pie was released, and managed to see it, and its subsequent sequels, in cinema. I liked the film a great deal, a fairly-glorious throwback to films such as Porky's and Bachelor Party, which managed to combine both gross-out humour and a sense of genuine heart. As time went on, and the franchise began to fade under the weight of a thousand miserable direct-to-DVD spinoffs, it seemed like American Pie and its ilk would be consigned to the footnotes of history as a once-memorable series that had its day in the sun, and quietly died.

Which is why nobody really saw this coming, an attempt at revisiting a relic of a bygone era (okay, the nineties weren't that long ago, but with the rate time passes nowadays, it feels like it). This had already been attempted last year with another nineties trend-setter when Scream 4 was released, but despite positive buzz and reviews, that film was ultimately a financial misfire that seemed to signal the death knell for nostalgic rehashes. Perhaps producers Chris and Paul Weitz thought they could pluck their nostalgia strings a little more carefully, and produce a winner in the end. Ultimately, they are less than successful, and that's actually a little sad.

As obviously implied by the title, the new installment sees Jim (Jason Biggs), Finch (Eddie Kaye Thomas), Oz (Chris Klein) and Kevin (Thomas Ian Nicholas) return to their hometown of East Great Falls for their thirteen year (yes, the oddity of that number is noted) high school reunion. The four friends have all gone on to 'adult lives', Jim now a parent with wife Michelle (Alyson Hannigan) and stuck in a corporate job, Oz a semi-successful sports broadcaster, Kevin a hackled house-husband, and Finch a globe-trotting adventurer.

The catch is, of course, that none of them are really happy, facing the usual man-child grievances: Jim and Michelle are stuck in a sexual rut, Oz is dealing with a superficial, air-headed girlfriend, Kevin despises his house-husband position and is resentful of his controlling wife, and Finch is finding himself lacking in life fulfillment. They're common problems that many adults endure, but the film goes to great lengths to show these problems consuming the lives of our boys, and making them all neurotic messes. More mature minds would either persevere or do something about it - to quote Clerks, "shit or get off the pot" - but these are the American Pie guys, unable to handle the most mundane and basic of life's difficulties. It's a little frustrating to think that, after thirteen years, they haven't really aged all that much (despite the film's constant attempts at showing otherwise).

Once they arrive in town, they accidentally end up bumping into Stifler (Seann William Scott), who really hasn't aged at all, still the same obnoxious party animal that he was at school. Whilst he has at least attempted to live like an adult, at heart he's still the Stifmeister, and wastes no time dragging his old buddies back into the usual downward spiral of parties, pranks and sexual misadventures.

This is, naturally, everything we know and love about the franchise, but the problem is this: we've seen it all before, and we've seen it done better. What's disappointing is that Reunion doesn't even try to better the comedy landmarks set by the series all those years ago; like the characters, the series just hasn't grown up, despite being older. And in the wake of the "New Wave" of raunchy, R-rated comedy, films like The Hangover and Horrible Bosses, and, of course, most everything from the Judd Apatow stable, Reunion's rehashing of everything already tried seems especially dated and tired. You know a comedy is in trouble when you actually start actively predicting which joke or embarrassing situation is going to come next. Comedy today may have been inspired by the likes of American Pie, but it has since grown more sophisticated on many levels, and evolved into quite a different beast entirely. Gone are the days when relying solely on dick and fart jokes could carry an entire film; nowadays, the audience wants a modicum of intelligence with their onscreen stupidity.

What's especially baffling is that this point seems to have eluded writers/directors Jon Hurwitz and Hayden Schlossberg, creators of the consistently-funny Harold and Kumar series. Whilst those films aren't necessarily comedic classics, they do frequently manage to hold their own in the modern-day arena, adding that afore-mentioned layer of sophistication to their dick and fart jokes, sophistication that Reunion doesn't even come close to having. It's almost as though they - like the cast - simply saw a chance to make a quick paycheck playing on people's nostalgia.

Audiences will, of course, enjoy the film on its most basic levels, but there's none of the memorable aspects that shaped the original, or even new films such as The Hangover. It's easy to imagine people forgetting this film even exists in a year's time. Nostalgia can carry a film only so far, but in the end, it has to stand on its own comedic merits, and Reunion has so very little of those. Sure, there's some mildly amusing gags, and Eugene Levy is always a joy to watch as Jim's dad, but it's far too little far too late. What could have been both a nice trip down memory lane and a demonstration of the evolution of modern comedy will instead be relegated to the "It was alright" pile, and considering the prestige once afforded to the American Pie brand, that's possibly one of the cruelest blows of all.

Then again, I guess, it's just yet another example of one of those emotions we all need to master in order to grow up: disappointment.

Rating: 2/5

As the first of two(!) Snow White adaptations off the rank for this year, the comparison game is going to inevitably run strong. The problem is, so far, it's completely unwarranted. Whilst the Lord of the Rings-esque Snow White and the Huntsman looks to be a dead-serious fantasy epic, Mirror Mirror is a family comedy, that many people have been unfairly writing off as cheap and terrible, if for no other reason than the involvement of Julia Roberts.

But y'know what? Mirror Mirror is almost certainly the more fun of the two films, wearing it's family colours proudly on it's brightly-patterned sleeve. Granted, the trailers were fairly groan-inspiring, but don't let the marketing fool you: this isn't just throwaway kid's trash.

We all know the story: Evil Queen (Roberts) takes over kingdom. Step-daughter Snow White (Lily Collins, daughter of rocker Phil) is destined to be the fairest of them all. Queen tries to kill her. Snow hides in forest, meets dwarves. Bests Queen, marries Prince (Armie Hammer), lives happily ever after. No real surprises there.

What is surprising is that this retelling, helmed by Tarsem Singh (The Fall, Immortals), contains just the right mix of joy, humour and cleverness to actually make it fairly-fresh. The biggest thing that struck me about Mirror Mirror is that it feels closer to the children's fantasy films of the late eighties and early nineties, than a bloated CG-heavy kids film of today, which are usually packed with annoying pop culture references and "quirky" (read: irritating for the sake of it) characters. The emphasis is firmly on story and character, and the comedy is more natural and, as a result, timeless.

Of course, Roberts's Queen won't be for everyone, but that's really a question of whether you're a fan of the actress herself or not. I'm not, but I didn't find myself hating her as much as I thought, largely because her scenes are either with Hammer - a truly-game trooper when it comes to the role of the Prince - or Nathan Lane as her foppish lackey, both of whom act as perfect offsets to the Queen's oft-irritating dramatics. The real scene-stealers are the dwarves, played by largely-unknown short actors (although there's some familiar faces, such as In Bruges's Jordan Prentiss, Pirates of the Caribbean's Martin Klebba and Seinfeld's indomitable Danny Woodburn), who have an easy camaraderie and end up with most of the film's best humour - humour that is thankfully not at the expense of their stature.

The lavish production design and limited use of CGI help sell this as a more old-world-style fairy tale, and the few changes to the original story actually help to serve the film more, giving us some elements of surprise in a well-worn story. If there's any real complaint, it largely falls on the character of Snow White herself, flitting between helpless damsel and sword-wielding bandit, but finding no real balance between the two. This isn't the fault of Collins, who's genuinely lovely and fitting in the part, but rather of the script, which focuses on making every other character more interesting and entertaining.

This is a family film of the old style, and one that kids will love, but adults can feel a slight nostalgia watching as well, as it feels like the sort of film that Disney may have released twenty years ago. Those who want their Snow White action-packed and fantasy-heavy will get their wish in little over three months time, but for those who just want to bask in the nice simplicity and charm of the original tale, Mirror Mirror is a perfect alternative.

Rating: 3.5/5

When it comes to genre-hopping, difficult-to-classify film-makers, Stephen Soderbergh is easily one of the most well-known. From the cheap-and-dirty everyday reality of sex, lies and videotape to the polished high-Hollywood gloss of the Ocean's series, from the dark and gritty drug-fuelled hopelessness of Traffic to the almost sci-fi-esque crumbling decay of Contagion, Soderbergh is one of those rare talents that flits from genre-to-genre, project-to-project with general ease, albeit amid somewhat-mixed results. There is, however, one genre Soderbergh's never really touched, until now: the straight-up action thriller. Haywire changes that, and, like many of Soderbergh's occasional experiments, sometimes succeeds, and sometimes doesn't.

The film was deliberately built as a vehicle for drop-dead-gorgeous Womens Mixed Martial Artist Gina Carano, a woman of both dangerous lethality and natural charm, but who is also, unfortunately, not an actress. She is both the film's greatest asset, and it's biggest weakness, and whilst Soderbergh's intent to create for her the female equivalent of a John Rambo or Jason Bourne is admirable, it doesn't entirely work. Thankfully, Soderbergh's impressive roll-a-dex of Hollywood contacts comes in handy in surrounding Carano with A-list talent to help distract from the fact that this isn't a movie made for an actress, but a female killing machine.

Carano plays Mallory Kane, a private ops specialist - think Blackgate - who works for a mercenary firm run by Kenneth (Ewan McGregor, suitably slimy). After a hostage rescue in Barcelona, she's sent to Dublin to act as the pretend wife of MI5 agent Paul (Michael Fassbender, too brief and under-utilized). Before you can say "contrived revenge scenario", she's been set-up by Kenneth and finds herself in all-too-familiar situation (say it with me now): on the run and trying to discover the truth.

Of course, the story is really just a thinly-veiled excuse to watch Carano kick all kinds of ass, which she does superbly. There is something refreshing about watching a woman realistically beating the hell out of people onscreen, not just in a technical sense, but also because Carano very definitely isn't your usual twiggy, petite-figured action girl: that's 140 pounds of pure muscle, toned and honed to perfection, and there's no doubt in your mind watching the film that she could kill you in a heartbeat in real life.

The fight scenes are very well-handled, all put together with no music, but they're also very brief, leaving you hungry for more. The superb supporting cast, including Michael Douglas as a government big-wig, Antonio Banderas as a shady organizer, Channing Tatum as one of Mallory's fellow agents, and Bill Paxton as her dad, are all given very little to do, apart from spout the odd piece of exposition and marvel at how lethal Mallory is. Of course, we don't really need to be told that, as the film opens with a great fight scene between Carano and Tatum that effectively demonstrates that this is a woman to be reckoned with.

The convoluted and non-linear script by Lem Dobbs begins to add some intriguing layers, but just as things get interesting, another action scene is shoe-horned in, making the audience forget the story unfolding. Soderbergh also decides to give the film a full-blown Ocean's-style score, which isn't necessarily a bad thing, but it does distract from the grittiness the director is shooting for. Added to that is the fact that, like many thinly-drawn action heroes, the character of Mallory is given very little development, and even less time to win audience sympathy - we find ourselves rooting for her simply because we know that she's the heroine, but there's no emotional investment, and the blandness of the character is exacerbated by Carano's limited range. My biggest gripe is that, because the character is so underwritten and uninteresting, Carano's real-life charisma and charm is given no chance to shine through; if it were, I'd probably end up more fully in her corner.

Despite it's problems, Haywire isn't a terrible film by any means (and at a lean 93 minutes, it's brisk pacing helps move things along nicely), but considering the man behind the lens, it's easy to expect much more. Carano is definitely a physical talent to watch out for, and I hope she does do more films after this, as she's more than capable of standing alongside the Vin Diesels and Jason Stathams of the action world, and time will probably see her acting ability improve. This is ultimately a forgettable little joy-ride, fairly fun whilst you're on it, but leaving no real lasting impression. One hopes the next director to use Carano is able to craft a film truly worthy of both her talents and audience attention.

Rating: 3/5