"Babe: Pig In The City" (General) General release
As the title suggests, George Miller's sequel to his hugely successful 1995 fantasy is drawn on a larger, more complex canvas than the charming original. Returning in triumph to Hoggett Farm after winning the sheepdog trials, our hero seems destined for a life of ease, until an accident makes an invalid of Farmer Hoggett. Faced with financial ruin, Mrs Hoggett determines to accept one of the lucrative appearance fees offered for their famous sheep/pig, and heads off across the world with Babe. Things soon go wrong, of course, and they find themselves lost in a huge city (a fantastical mix of New York, Paris, Los Angeles and Sidney), until offered refuge in a strange hotel occupied almost exclusively by animals.
Miller, who produced the first film, also directs this one (although all the indications are that he had a very strong input into the original), and creates a richly imaginative cityscape, all saturated colours and skewed angles. But Miller's city is a sad place, full of strays and unwanted animals, with many pitfalls for the unwary country bumpkin. The cynical, world-weary inhabitants are unimpressed by Babe's idealism, while loss and death are recurring subjects throughout - both visually and thematically, the film owes more to Jeunet and Caro's Delicatessen than to Disney. Some parents may find all this a little dark and depressing for their offspring, but my six-year-old companion didn't seem bothered at all.
There's a wealth of imagination at work here, with some wonderful set pieces, and Miller again manages to make us believe in his wide cast of animal characters, ranging this time from pelicans to chimpanzees. Fans of the first movie may regret the absence of most of the original cast, with the exception of Ferdinand the duck and the inevitable chorus line of mice (whose repertoire this time extends from Elvis Presley to Edith Piaf), although there are plenty of delightful new characters.
More problematic is the film's uneven pacing, with spells of frenetic action and exposition succeeded by too many longueurs and non sequiturs.
Babe: Pig In The City reportedly had all kinds of post-production difficulties, barely making its pre-Christmas release date, and at times its narrative seems patched together. But this is still one of the best family films of the year, never condescending to its audience and offering a treasure trove of memorable moments to savour.
By Hugh Linehan
"Rush Hour" (15) General release
Reading the synopsis of Rush Hour, you might feel that you've been here a thousand times before, and indeed the formulaic plot-line of this comedy-thriller about a Hong Kong detective and an American cop chasing down kidnappers in Los Angeles could have been lifted at random from a score of movies of the last decade. This particular offering won't win any prizes for originality or spontaneity - the dynamics of the buddy movie are rigidly adhered to - but in its own unpretentious way it works, thanks largely to its two lead actors, comedian Chris Tucker and martial arts star Jackie Chan.
Hong Kong icon Chan has been making some inroads into the American market in recent years, but hasn't quite managed to find the right vehicle for his particular brand of bone-crunching action (all done without stuntmen, as the obligatory closing credits outtakes reveal). In Tucker, a versatile performer whose most notable recent roles include the small-time crook Beaumont in Jackie Brown and the outrageous DJ Ruby Rhod in The Fifth Element, Chan finally finds a good American foil for his exploits. Essentially Tucker delivers the gags, Chan trades the punches and everyone goes home happy. It's simple, it's certainly not sophisticated, but in the competent hands of director Brett Ratner it delivers the goods.
By Hugh Linehan
"Twilight" (15) Selected cinemas
Once you've swallowed the notion of Paul Newman working as an odd-job man, fixing the washing machine and putting out the bins, the rest of this film's implausibilities are easily digested. The title appropriately suggests the name of a box of chocolates or a liqueur, and what follows is a mellow character study, in the film noir genre, to be savoured for its performances from the 73-year-old Newman, Susan Sarandon, Gene Hackman, James Garner and Stockard Channing but not analysed too rigorously.
A retired private eye, recovered alcoholic, and divorcee, Harry Ross (Newman) is a burned out outsider, exuding world-weary integrity as he carries out domestic chores for the two sophisticated, former film stars, Jack and Catherine (Hackman and Sarandon) who give him lodgings. One of his errands brings him reluctantly back into the criminal underworld, embroiling him in a murder mystery which seems to point to Jack and Catherine and reawakens his investigative instincts. There's a lot to relish visually: the Los Angeles skyline is shot as an abstract grid of lines and limpid colours by Piotr Sobocinski, and David Gropman's design celebrates the city's architecture. The pace of Robert Benton's direction is leisurely, and a reflective, elegiac mood dominates: there are rueful observations about ageing bodies and faculties - "I'm getting rusty. I'm a danger to myself", Harry comments.
Not so rusty, though, that he can't seduce Catherine (Sarendon) and be propositioned by the chief of police (Stockard Channing). While it is refreshing to see a Hollywood film attempting a relatively unsentimental approach to the indignities and frustrations of ageing, none of it is quite credible. If this is old age, pass me my bifocals.
By Helen Meany
"The Slums Of Beverly Hills" (18) Screen, UCIs, Dublin
The 1970s get yet another airing in Tamara Jenkins's quirky coming-of-age comedy, set amongst the members of an offbeat Los Angeles family. Alan Arkin plays divorced father-of-three Murray Abramowitz, who leads his little brood on a nomadic existence around the fringes of Beverly Hills, moving from one shabby short-term apartment to the next, on the principle that keeping within the Beverly Hills School District will at least guarantee his offspring a good education.
Unknown to Arkin, though, his children, and especially his teenaged daughter Vivian (Natasha Lyonne) are also educating themselves in those 1970s staples - sex and drugs. Matters are further complicated when Arkin agrees to take in the druggy, airhead daughter (Marisa Tomei) of his wealthy brother in return for a financial consideration. Tomei's tenuous hold on reality collides with Lyonne's awakening sexuality, with predictably chaotic results.
All this is gently and affectionately handled by writer-director Jenkins, for whom this is clearly a semi-autobiographical story. There's no attempt to lay the mid-1970s detail on too heavily, but the amiable, rather lost ambience of teen stoner culture of the period is nicely conveyed, and the grottiness of the family's transient lifestyle is well portrayed.
If, most of the time, the film seems to have no particular place to go, meandering along from one set piece to another, then that's an accurate enough depiction of its characters' predicament. It's the cast that makes The Slums of Beverly Hills quite watchable - Arkin is excellent as the good-hearted but hopelessly incompetent father, and Tomei clearly relishes her kooky role. Lyonne is the real star of the show, though, and she gives an unsentimental, believable performance as the bewildered, put-upon Vivian.
By Hugh Linehan
