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Back in 2007 Quentin Tarantino made Deathproof, a film about a deranged stuntman with a car impervious to damage. Not a man to be outdone, Bill Condon gives the world Reviewproof, a film about a bunch of sparkly vampires whose box office success, no matter how wonky their antics, is impervious to criticism.
Nobody will pick The Twilight Saga: Breaking Dawn – Part 2 (they changed the name after Reviewproof proved confusing for audiences) off the shelf accidentally. If you’re watching it it’s either because you’re part of the target demographic or you’re obliged to due to babysitting, being a supportive partner or penance.
Having occupied far too many headlines in recent years, the great battle pitting Team Jacob against Team Edward has long since been fought (the victor got a pale, whiny trophy as a reward) and Bella, the Cullens and their associated lupine acquaintances have bigger fish to fry than deciding who gets the girl.
The final chapter in the most obnoxious love story ever exuded onto a page and allowed to fester opens two days after Part 1. Bella (Kristen Stewart) has had her baby, the improbably named Renesmee, and been turned into a vampire to save her from the rigours of the delivery.
After about 20 minutes of Lifestyles of the Pale and Loaded during which Bella and Edward explore their new cottage in the woods, director Bill Condon finally wakes up from his nap to get the story underway.
Some distant Cullen cousin sees the newest member of the clan, who is growing like a weed and, thankfully, only spends a few scenes as a weird, scary CG sprog and runs off to tell tales to the Volturi – the nasty aristos of the Twilight world.
Apparently vampire kids are a thing to be feared – on account of how cute and ravenous they are – and the punishment for creating them is death. It’s all a case of mistaken identity of course, Renesmee isn’t evil, or even dead, but it’s enough for Aro (Michael Sheen in scenery-chewing form) to saddle up his super-powered cronies and bear down on the Cullens to settle some old scores.
So Breaking Dawn – Part 2 really breaks down into three parts: Architects Digest for the first bit, then a quick who’s who of the vampire world as Ed and his pals go getting friends and family to vouch for the fact that his new nipper isn’t some demon spawn and before, finally, the climactic battle where hashes are settled and wrongs righted.
Only it doesn’t. Even that particular pleasure of some sort of emotional exclamation point is denied the audience on account of… well the story. J’accuse Stephenie Meyer – even if you’d wrangled the services of Steven Spielberg, David Fincher and Orson Wells the raw material of The Twilight Saga would never have added up to much more than what it became – a series of boring, badly made films with all the entertainment value of a toasted ham sandwich with no ham, no bread and no heat.
None of this matters however, as the series has already made a bajillion dollars over its run and will probably get rebooted in a few years anyway. So ranting about it isn’t going to make one whit of difference.
I’m off down to the beach to shout at the tide then…
Meanwhile, in a galaxy very, very far away from the one inhabited by sparkly vampire dreamboats is the world inhabited by Killing Them Softly, a bleak, peculiar flick populated by idiots, gangsters and idiot gangsters, adapted by director Andrew Dominik from ’70s crime novel Cogan’s Trade by George V Higgins.
After a couple of dumb crooks rob an illegal card game, hoping to scoop up the loot and frame the game’s proprietor, small-time hood Markie Trattman (Ray Liotta), at the same time, the Mafia powers that be call Jackie Coogan (Brad Pitt) to come and “straighten out” the situation.
Given the two dopes responsible for the actual robbery Frankie (Scoot McNairy) and Russell (Ben Mendelsohn) – one a weasel on the make, the other a brain-fried Aussie smack addict – can’t be trusted to keep a secret or even find their ass with two hands a map, Coogan’s clean-up job was never going to involve much in the way of high drama, sleuthing or intrigue. But what Killing Them Softly lacks in Bay-style blood-letting and chaos, it makes up for in bizarrely loquacious dialogue reminiscent of a Coen Brothers film, but less whimsical, and a brilliant central performance from Pitt.
Killing Them Softly does that rarest of things in cinema these days – it understays its welcome. Just as the world of dopes and drug fiends is starting to fill out, the credits roll. It feels like the first chapter of something bigger but if Dominik or Mr Higgins have a few ideas up their sleeve there won’t be more forthcoming from Jackie Coogan.
An enjoyable but ultimately disappointing endeavour.

 

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