SPECTRE

Starring: Daniel Craig, Christoph Waltz, Léa Seydoux

Writers: John Logan, Neal Purvis, Robert Wade, Jez Butterworth

Director: Sam Mendes

The 24th "official" James Bond movie sees the suave British secret agent on the trail of a sinister organisation responsible for a series of deadly attacks across the globe. All roads seem to lead to a shadowy figure by the name of Franz Oberhauser (Waltz) and Bond embarks on his usual continent-hopping antics to track down his target. Meanwhile, back at home, Bond's boss M (Ralph Fiennes) is battling to save the "00" programme which is under threat from the proposed implementation of an all-seeing, state-of-the-art computerised surveillance system which intends to replace agents in the field...

SPECTRE is wildly uneven, a curious mix of flashy, big-budget action and tedious, lumpen exposition (more of the latter, I'm sorry to say) which feels like the product of too many fingers in the franchise's attractively-packaged pie. It wants to be all things to all people, a shamelessly entertaining pulp thriller but also having something deeper to say about how information is gathered and used (and abused). Whilst I applaud the intention to mix old-fashioned spy thriller with an up-to-date techno paranoia drama the end result is somewhat schizophrenic - two rather different films working against each other and as such the coherence of the piece isn't always what it should be.

And yet it all begins so well - so jaw-droppingly well - with a beautiful, clever, extended tracking shot following Bond through the Day of the Dead parade in Mexico City, stunning female companion in tow. Of course, 007 isn't there to take in the sights, he's on the trail of a nasty bit of work by the name of Sciarra. This inevitably leads to a confrontation and an opening action sequence which ranks right up there amongst the best of the entire series with gunplay, explosions, collapsing buildings, a chase and then a dizzying fight which takes place both inside and outside a looping and twirling helicopter. It's the only time you'll ever be glad to hear Sam Smith's teeth-grindingly dreadful Bond theme because you're given a chance to catch your breath.

Unfortunately the rest of the film doesn't match its superb pre-credits promise, serving up a slice of curiously retro, often clumsily-written Bond action where the bad guy not only has a secret base but is also considerate enough to take the time to explain his villainous motivation to our hero instead of just bumping him off. Still, Oberhauser, the big bad of SPECTRE, is played by the terrific Christoph Waltz which means that any lines he's given, no matter how ridiculous, are imbued with a sense of quiet, effective menace. You're in safe hands with Waltz. Or, rather, you're in unnervingly unsafe hands.

Mind you, if you think Oberhauser is an underwritten and underused character - and you'd be right - just wait until you see how thinly sketched Seydoux's character is. Dr Madeleine Swann is hardly the modern incarnation of a Bond girl - initially, to be fair, her introduction hints that she may be more than a match for her foes but then the script immediately turns her into the damsel in distress which involves her getting kidnapped, pouting a lot, wandering around in her underwear for a bit and being generally ineffective against the bad guys save for one moment when her blundering about distracts Dave Bautista's Mr Hinx just enough for 007 to get a second wind at an opportune moment mid-scrap.

Mind you, if you think Seydoux is given short shrift - and you'd be right - the shrift handed to Monica Bellucci is about the shortest piece of shrift in the history of shrift giving. Take an iconic, brilliant, talented, stunningly beautiful actress with undeniable screen presence and have her play what is more or less a glorified walk-on part. Okay, you could call into question why Bellucci was interested in the first place but the top and bottom of it is that Bond meets her, rescues her from a couple of assassins, gets a bit saucy with her, finds out something which moves the plot along a smidge and that's about your lot for La Bellucci. No, no, no, SPECTRE, that just won't do.

More successful are the plentiful nods to Bond past, with a particular leaning towards the Connery era: a bruising fight on a train recalls From Russia With Love, as does a secondary character with more than a touch of Rosa Klebb about her; the new, high-tech Aston Martin has a distinctly familiar and low-tech series of switches to control its gadgets; another very familiar type of vintage car shows up to transport them to Oberhauser's place; an iconic animal of the series makes a reappearance. The list goes on.

The regulars mostly get a decent look in this time too. Ben Whishaw's Q is thrust into the thick of the action and he gives good nerd against Craig's effortless cool. Ralph Fiennes isn't the recipient of the same batch of shrift that was chucked at Monica Bellucci earlier and is awarded the screen time necessary to give us an interesting glimpse into the character of M. He looks to be having a ball here, ultimately delivering what I think is the film's funniest line with Bond-level aplomb. Naomie Harris is engaging as Moneypenny but after her action-heavy debut in Skyfall this movie generally has her run what are essentially admin tasks for 007 - vital to the mission but no bloody good in terms of interesting character development.

It's the flashes of inspiration - plus a few choice examples of dry banter - that just about hold the interest and raise some hope that the movie will eventually get its act together but at a whopping 148 minutes in length SPECTRE is too ponderous for its own good, scenes of interminable chit-chat taking the place of high-octane thrills. Even the climax doesn't get the pulse racing as it should, giving the audience a rescue mission against the clock that's lacking in any kind of suspense followed by a boat versus helicopter chase that aims for spectacular but hits the target marked "ho hum". Considering the fate of the world is on the line (as it normally is when Bond's around - if you see him, head for the hills....no, don't do that, that's where the bad guy will have built his underground lair) the movie never really convinces that the stakes are all that high.

As a fan of the Bond movies, I expected so much more of this, leaving the cinema with feelings of what could and should have been. It's nowhere near the worst of the franchise (step forward, For Your Eyes Only) but it's a very long way from the best. Given the prodigious talent both in front of and behind the camera the end product is inexplicably, frustratingly, deeply flawed. Pay attention, 007, you need to be back on your game in the 25th film.

CRIMSON PEAK

Starring: Mia Wasikowska, Tom Hiddleston, Jessica Chastain

Writers: Guillermo Del Toro, Matthew Robbins

Director: Guillermo Del Toro

Edith Cushing (Wasikowska) - nice touch with the surname - has been able to see ghosts since she was a child and now those visions inform her aspirations to be a writer. The business dealings of her father sees Edith's path cross with that of British Baronet Sir Thomas Sharpe (Hiddleston) and his sister Lucille (Chastain). It's clear that Thomas is interested in Edith - they both have an interest in the supernatural - but are his intentions driven by something more sinister?

With all of the praise heaped upon this movie from many reviewers more trusted and experienced than I, I do feel a little odd at feeling somewhat less than astounded after having viewed it. It's perhaps because Guillermo Del Toro's previous movies have set the bar so high that I couldn't manage my expectations and had already geared myself up for an astonishing, immersive, unforgettable experience. To be fair, I wasn't exactly racked with disappointment come the end credits but I was far from giddy with excitement.

Still, this is well worth seeing if only to marvel at the incredible design of the production. It's achingly beautiful to behold and I wished I could have been given a pause button to freeze the scene and take in all of the stunning detail (okay, the audience would have probably have been waiting for me outside afterwards because the film would have run for six or seven hours due to me stopping the action with annoying regularity, but...). In my opinion it's the most sumptuous visual treat of the year, hands down. Your eyes will thank you for it.

Crimson Peak also boasts a trio of performers at the top of their game. Wasikowska is a smart, engaging heroine and Hiddleston resists the temptation to chew the scenery in what could easily have been a ripe old role, instead giving us a multi-layered, sympathetic characterisation of a man whose romantic notions mean he's constantly flirting with disaster. For me, however, it's Chastain who steals the movie, hovering ominously on the periphery, a harbinger of doom with an amusing/frightening perma-glare and a cut-glass English accent. She's absolutely brilliant and I hope she had as much fun portraying Lucille as I did watching her.

So, in spite of the above, why didn't it make my heart sing as much as I desperately wanted it to? Well, for starters, it's just not scary enough as a ghost story. It's admirably light on jump scares and on occasion the apparitions are gruesomely effective but the chills are fleeting and the tension isn't allowed to build. The spooky surroundings of Allerdale Hall, the rambling, rickety ancestral pile of the Sharpes, doesn't even feature in the film for the first 45 minutes, the opening act more concerned with Thomas attempting to procure funds for his innovations in mining equipment (and, unfortunately, it isn't much more interesting than that sounds).

The plot is certainly of the old-fashioned type, relying on discoveries of documents and artefacts that any villain worth their salt would have disposed of immediately after their dastardly crimes had been committed. I did get a feeling this this all-too-obvious exposition was a clever smoke and mirrors ploy, diverting my attention away from the real facts, culminating a rug-pulling reveal which would leave me wondering why I hadn't seen what was right in front of me. But no, I had seen what was right in front of me. There is no twist. The evil comes from exactly where you think and the motive for all of this is either refreshingly straightforward or irritatingly lacking in complexity depending on your viewpoint. It's an open and shut case, guv.

Crimson Peak works much better as a lavish, romantic, Gothic melodrama than it does as a creepy, chair-arm wrecking haunted house tale. There is much to admire about it, chiefly the jaw-dropping look of the piece and a cast of talented players treating the material with a deft touch. Trouble is, there's something fundamentally lacking and considering the usual warmth of Del Toro's work the biggest shock is how cold it left me.



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REGRESSION

Starring: Ethan Hawke, Emma Watson, David Thewlis

Writer: Alejandro Amenábar

Director: Alejandro Amenábar

Based on true events, Regression opens with a father walking into a police station and being questioned about a series of horrible crimes concerning the abuse of his daughter Angela (Watson). The problem is that he has no recollection of committing these crimes and Angela is reluctant to talk, fearing the wrath of a group of Satanists with whom her father may be heavily involved....

Alejandro Amenábar's thriller is a frustrating affair, frequently hinting at potential greatness but never coming close to reaching that level. Let's start with the positives, the biggest one being Ethan Hawke. As dour, driven lead investigator Bruce Kenner - not the most sympathetic of characters, it has to be said - his performance is meticulous in its detail, he's fascinating to watch and it's disappointing that the rest of the enterprise doesn't have the same attention to its craft.

The look of the film is striking, matching the glum events of the screenplay perfectly with its dark-hued cinematography. The locations are shabby, subdued, the perfect place for evil to hide in plain sight.The regression sequences are well handled too, full of disturbing imagery and only occasionally resorting to cheap shocks for effect. There are no car chases crowbarred in for effect, no ridiculously-contrived shootouts, this is a thriller that dares to treat its audience as adults and yet it still falls far short of its ambitions.

One of this movie's problems is, very surprisingly, Emma Watson, who doesn't convince as the withdrawn, psychologically-damaged Angela. Her role in the proceedings is perhaps purposely underwritten so as to give as little away about her character as possible lest it spoil the general air of mystery but it also leaves the film fatally hamstrung and, to be fair to the actress, doesn't give Watson much to work with. Yes, we sympathise with her awful situation - who wouldn't? - but we never really connect with the character as we should.

The script is the very definition of a mixed bag, the dialogue in the police station sequences having the ring of authenticity but then lurching into tired psychobabble whenever Thewlis' academic shows up to assist with the investigation. Likewise, the initial set-up is intriguing and the clues Kenner pieces together point to a sinister conspiracy with huge ramifications for his town and beyond only for this to be completely undermined by the "twist" towards the end, which replaces the expected explosive conclusion with one which is much lower-key, far less dramatic and, dare I say, not much of a pay-off considering the careful build-up. Yes, it does subvert the usual tropes of the thriller climax but the ultimate confrontation left me deflated, not to mention scratching my head as to the plausibility of the denouement (I'm falling over myself trying not to put a spoiler in here).

Overall, Regression isn't a total disaster and there's certainly an intent by the film makers to give the audience something a little different. However, great work by Ethan Hawke aside, you won't be recalling many memories of this.


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SOLACE

Starring: Anthony Hopkins, Jeffrey Dean Morgan, Abbie Cornish
Writer: Sean Bailey
Director: Afonso Poyart

Baffled by a series of murders, veteran FBI Special Agent Joe Merriwether (Morgan) calls upon the services of friend and former colleague Dr John Clancy (Hopkins). Clancy's a psychic who's helped out the Bureau before and Merriwether hopes that the Doc's visions will be able to point them in the direction of the killer. This does not go down well with Merriwether's sceptical young partner Katherine Cowles (Cornish), who believes in honest-to-goodness sleuthing and psychological profiling. The twist here? It appears as though the killer's a psychic too and their powers far outweigh Clancy's...

Oh, where to begin with this piece of plodding, preposterous piffle? Apparently it started life as a sequel of sorts to Seven but even the shoddiest, never-to-be-seen offcuts from David Fincher's movie would be infinitely more watchable than the hundred and one minutes of total and unadulterated cobblers served up here. The premise could have been just about wacky enough to fly had it been made with zip and panache but what you end up getting is a glum, energy-sapping trudge from point A to point Z in the serial killer movie landscape.

For me, the major problem is the screenplay. Not to put too fine a point on it, it's absolutely dreadful. Every plot development, every line seems to have been generated by a computer into which the script of every serial killer flick - and possibly every cop thriller - has been fed. Hopkins' character doesn't want to be dragged back into investigating another serial killer case? Check. Something happens that makes Hopkins's character change his mind? Check. Main character(s) threatened by the bad guy? Check. Highly intelligent murderer with his own supply of literary quotes? Check. "Name" actor as the serial killer? Check. Confrontation between hero and killer where killer explains his motives? Check. Audience members walking out after about forty minutes? Check.

I wasn't one of those audience members who threw in the towel before Solace had even hit the halfway mark. More fool me, I stuck another hour of the bloody thing and it didn't improve one little bit. Yes, it does set up some potentially interesting moral dilemmas concerning exactly why the murderer is going about their gruesome business but again these ideas are torpedoed by the terrible, clunky dialogue which convinces not one iota and does nothing to draw in the audience.

Which brings me to the main trio of performances. Hopkins, Morgan and Cornish are pretty much on a hiding to nothing considering the ludicrous things this movie makes them say on a regular basis but Morgan manages to come out of it the least unscathed, giving his standard FBI agent/family man an innate likability. Cornish does what she can, having to play a second-tier Clarice Starling-alike who is inevitably put in danger come the excruciatingly dull climax. While we're mentioning Silence of the Lambs, a bit of Lecter does seem to show in Hopkins' performance. Merriwether mentions - more than once - what a great smile Clancy has but when Clancy demonstrates said smile it's more akin to how Hannibal looked before he bit the face off Sergeant Pembry.

And it's not just the aforementioned thesping threesome who are sold short by the writing - there's a lot of acting talent going to waste here, most notably Xander Berkeley, Sharon Lawrence, Marley Shelton and Janine Turner who are given the sum total of zero to work with. Turner's role, in particular, is almost a walk-on. This is Janine Turner's role as described by my thoughts from the moment she appeared on screen: "Is that Janine Turner?" "It is Janine Turner. Great!" "So what's she going to do?" "Oh, nothing." Don't even get me started on the nigh-on criminal squandering of Xander Berkeley's considerable talents. Let's move on.

As I previously mentioned, there is a "name" actor playing the serial killer, much like Kevin Spacey in Seven. As he's featured on the posters here I don't feel that I'm giving too much away by saying it's Colin Farrell. I think he's a decent actor but he doesn't get to prove that here. Solace suggests that the killer is taking the lives of certain people out of some sense of moral duty but Farrell is saddled with a character that is prone to droning on about his responsibility and could probably bore most of his victims to death without having to resort to any kind of sharp implement. Mr Farrell, you deserve better than this.

This listless non-thriller even manages to throw in a car chase which is guaranteed to set your pulse to exactly the same rate it was before it began. It also features Hopkins predicting where a fleeing perp will drive so there's a bit of exciting "LEFT!", "RIGHT!", "STOP!" action and a tetchy Cornish asking why they're not going in the same direction as the vehicle they're chasing. Well, duh, you're being taken on a psychic shortcut, aren't you? If you think that sounds like a load of nonsense, I probably should have talked to you before I decided to watch this.

For all its lofty ambitions, Solace winds up as being both unrelentingly silly and remarkably dull, wasting a cast most films would kill for and, perhaps more unforgivably, wasting the time of its audience. Easily one of the worst of this year.

BAIT

Starring: Victoria Smurfit, Jonathan Slinger, Joanne Mitchell

Writer: Paul Roundell 

Director: Dominic Brunt

Best friends Bex (Smurfit) and Dawn (Mitchell) decide to follow their dreams of opening their own classy cafe as a means of escaping the somewhat less-than-glamorous surroundings of the indoor market in which they're currently stuck serving not much in the way of coffee and cake (and in Bex's case, fending off the sleazy advances of nearby stallholder Nev). Trouble is, none of the local banks are willing to finance their venture and things look bleak until they happen upon Jeremy (Slinger) who offers to lend them half of the money to start their business. Although Jeremy initially appears like a good guy to them it's not long before his true nature is revealed - he's a loan shark who won't take "no" for an answer and his initial initimidation of Bex and Dawn escalates into something even more disturbing.

Dominic Brunt's uncompromising horror/thriller gets straight down to business, interspersing some welcome early character development with the alarming and brutal consequences of being unable to square debts to unscrupulous people on time. It's not too long before Bex and Dawn are drawn into this underworld and from here the tension really ratchets up as Jeremy's threats turn to violence and there seems to be no way out. As the shocks are piled on the proceedings become almost unbearably taut and we fear for the lives of the two women to whom we've become attached. It's a while since I've felt quite so unnerved watching a film and it's testament to Brunt's skill as a director.

The three central performances here are all terrific. Smurfit and Mitchell are never less than completely believable as friends who've been through a lot together even before they're plunged into the nightmare of owing money that can never be fully paid back to a man who will use any means at his disposal to recoup it. Smurfit's character is funny and feisty, Mitchell's is caring and careful. Roundell's screenplay gives them both real depth and they'd be an interesting duo in any setting. In addition to this, despite the hands fate may have dealt them it's clear that neither woman is a victim for the taking and they both draw on their own personal strengths as they attempt to deal with the Bank of Psycho

As the loan shark, hats off to Slinger for making my skin crawl for almost every second of his time on screen and giving his villain a terrifying plausibility. He isn't some hulking, indestructible maniac. Instead, he's calm, calculating and chilling, a million miles from the generic pantomime bad guy seen in so many genre efforts. Jeremy is a truly despicable, vicious man and anyone who watches this and says they're not waiting for him to get his comeuppance is surely lying.

The violence here is certainly not for the squeamish but my guess is that most of Bait's viewers will be prepared for that from the get-go (and if not, and you're offended by it, why didn't you read the back of the DVD box? Or, indeed, this review?). That said, the film isn't awash with gore, preferring to carefully ration its use of claret in several effective sequences - you'll probably be wincing quite often watching this one - until things eventually come to a head in a spectacularly bloody climax where scores are most definitely settled.

In short, Bait packs in more palm-moistening tension than any big-budget Hollywood movie (hell, any two or three big-budget Hollywood movies) could muster and deserves to be seen by as wide an audience as possible. Who would have thought that an indie film made for next to nowt would turn out to be one of the most satisfying thrillers in yonks? Well, me, for one.

Also, I should give a mention to Dominic Brunt's previous movie, the rather good relationship drama/zombie infection flick (yes, you read that correctly) Before Dawn which puts a fresh spin on the usual undead genre tropes and is well worth checking out.

Also, also: Hang around until after the closing credits have finished for a bit of Bait-related claymation action from the brilliant Lee Hardcastle.

Also, also, also: I could listen to Victoria Smurfit saying the word "shite" all day. Not much to do with the review, really. Just saying.

LEGEND

Starring: Tom Hardy, Emily Browning, Christopher Eccleston

Writer: Brian Helgeland

Director: Brian Helgeland

Here's another version of the true-life story of Ronnie and Reggie Kray and how their organised crime business flourished in 1960s London. Obviously the Kemp brothers were unavailable to reprise their roles so this latest version has to settle for some guy called Tom Hardy playing both roles. Has he been in anything else recently? What, that Mad Max thing? Oh, right...

Of course, a lot of the buzz surrounding LA Confidential screenplay scribe Helgeland's take on an oft-told tale has centred on Tom Hardy as Reggie appearing alongside Tom Hardy as Ronnie and it has to be said that he is terrific in both roles to the point where it's easy to forget that it's the same guy. He plays Reggie as attractive, confident, driven and sure of pretty much everything he wants from life. His Ronnie, on the other hand, is awkward, withdrawn and with who knows what bubbling just under the surface - could be a joke, could be an encouraging comment, could be a non-sequitur, could be a burst of nauseating violence. He intimidates just by being in the room.

Hardy is mesmerising in his portrayal of both brothers and he is clearly Legend's ace card - well, two ace cards. Awards potential? I'd say so. Which is not to say that the rest of the cast is exactly shabby either. In fact, it's bursting with quality, whether it's Eccleston as dogged copper Nipper Read, David Thewlis as the Krays' savvy business associate (and catalyst for their empire's eventual downfall) Leslie Payne or Sam Spruell as the rather creepy Jack "The Hat" McVitie. Tara Fitzgerald also manages to make an impact in a smaller role as Frances' mum and a flashpoint involving her character and Ronnie is both scary and darkly amusing.

As the female lead, Emily Browning shines as Frances: an intelligent girl who would have been destined for bigger and better things had she not been fatally hamstrung by her psychological fragility. Although the movie makes it clear why people would have found Reggie Kray a charming man it's Browning's character who elicits most of our sympathy. We may not agree with the some of choices she made but we can understand why she made them and Browning makes us feel genuine concern for Frances. She's a normal girl who just wants to be happy but can she possibly find that happiness with Reggie?

With such impeccable work from the cast, it's something of a disappointment that the movie itself doesn't quite match their level of skill. The main issue with trying to cram the entire reign of the Krays into just over two hours whilst also attempting to explore the relationship between Reggie and Frances inevitably means that the plot tends to dash between major events dotted across a period of several years and it doesn't fully exploit the potential of certain threads - for instance, a subplot involving the excellent Chazz Palminteri's Mafia guy from Chicago seems a bit of an afterthought and doesn't particularly go anywhere.

Elsewhere, the gangland warfare between the Krays and "south of the River" boss Charlie Richardson (the always reliable Paul Bettany) is dealt with fairly swiftly so anyone expecting long stretches of gory gangster violence may feel a tad let down. Personally I preferred the approach Legend takes here, especially as this portion of the movie concludes with a fine joke involving England's disputed third goal in the 1966 World Cup Final.

Quibbles aside (and there are many of them, it has to be said), there's still enough here to hold your average audience member's interest for the running time and the movie takes an admirably unglamourous approach to the violence portrayed within. The fact that the fights, stabbings and shootings are generally so matter-of-fact makes it all the more sickening and there's one particular moment where the 18 certificate is duly warranted.To be fair, the movie had already earned that with its frequent and aggressive use of the c-word so the more sensitive souls amongst us might want to give this flick a wide berth. For the rest of us, this is a stylish, adult drama which doesn't really give us any fresh insights into what made the Krays tick but delivers the (ill-gotten) goods and a slew of impressive performances.

WE ARE YOUR FRIENDS

Starring: Zac Efron, Emily Ratajkowski, Wes Bentley
Writers: Max Joseph, Meaghan Oppenheimer
Director: Max Joseph

*** WARNING - THIS REVIEW CONTAINS SPOILERS, ONE OF THEM MASSIVE ***

Cole Carter (Efron) lives in the San Fernando Valley, promoting and generally hanging around the club scene with three friends. These four guys share not only a rented house but also share aspirations to make it big - Cole is looking for the one tune that will propel him into the ranks of globetrotting superstar DJs, Ollie (Shiloh Fernandez) is a budding actor, Mason (Ollie Weston) sees himself owning clubs rather than handing out their flyers and Squirrel (Alex Shaffer) - well, Squirrel certainly wants to do better, I'm sure, it's just not made especially clear what his career goals are here. Having people call him something other than Squirrel is probably a start. 

Complications arise when Cole is taken under the wing of older, successful DJ James (Bentley) who notices the younger guy's natural talent. As Cole looks to create the track that will facilitate his leap into the big time he meets James' personal assistant Sophie (Ratajkowski) and the two hit it off immediately. Well, not quite immediately, there's obviously that first meeting where Sophie is a bit aloof and Cole's attempts to break the ice don't quite work but deep down you know that Sophie thinks Cole's quite a nice guy so...

Meanwhile, Cole and his friends have an opportunity to make some quick cash working for real estate shark Paige (Jon Bernthal, absolutely wasted here - and I don't mean on the copious amounts of drugs handed out during the club sequences) - will they be swayed by the lure of easy money or will they stay true to their principles and follow their dreams? Hmm, that's a tough one, what do you think?

We Are Your Friends has apparently been given a huge thumbs down by Stateside audiences as it limped to the fourth-worst wide release debut in box office history. Personally, I'd be one of the first people to tell you that box office takings do not go hand in hand with the quality of a movie - some absolutely terrible films have raked in obscene amounts of cash - but in this case I have to say US moviegoers are bang on the money here.

WAYF is full of characters that it's very difficult to give two hoots about save for Efron and even then Cole isn't sufficiently interesting to draw the viewer in. His tribulations over the creation of his signature dance anthem could have been played for much more dramatic effect than they are here and his "Eureka!" moment in the tune's evolution is both clodhoppingly signposted and snigger-inducingly ridiculous. As a dance music fan, I have to say it's not even that great a tune when you finally get to hear it.

The rest of the cast have to work with such gossamer-thin material that a light breeze would cause it to disintegrate. Bernthal ought to be given an apology for being lumped with a cartoon role which appears to be the result of somone having watched Glengarry Glen Ross, being amazed by Alec Baldwin's terrifying/hilarious performance and then trying to recreate the magic here. Unfortunately, David Mamet isn't on script duty and it shows, leaving Bernthal as nothing more than the pantomime bad guy in this mess.

Cole's friends are not exactly sympathetic either. Ollie comes across as a bit of a whiner, bemoaning his lack of acting opportunities whilst giving no hint as to whether or not he's a competent thesp. However, at least he's relatively appealing compared to Mason, an arrogant, aggressive knobhead who you'd willingly cross the street to avoid - he also seems to be a bit of a sex pest too so he's the whole package, ladies. Get in line. Squirrel is just there to provide transport and make the odd "deep" comment (well, about as deep as this movie ever gets). Oh, and he dies about 75 minutes in just to provide some tragedy and to give motivation to the others to try harder. Sorry, did I just give that away? Whoops.

As for Bentley, he certainly gives the movie a decent performance but again the script hits you over the head with too many references to how damaged he's become without really addressing how he came to be like that. Ratajkowski receives some odd treatment, her character being set-up as a girl who is smart and has potential but then focusing on her ample breasts as they threaten to leap out of her dress during a slow-motion dance scene. Sophie's relationship with Cole never fully convinces either, Ratajkowski and Efron try hard enough to sell it but the script rarely gives the feeling that these two are all that into each other.

For a film whose message is all about "finding your own sound", WAYF spends most of its time nicking other people's sounds and gluing them together in haphazard fashion. It's certainly possible to create a well-written, entertaining piece about club/dance culture but in this case I'm thinking of Human Traffic, the 1999 flick starring John Simm. Don't get me wrong, the soundtrack here is pretty good - it's just about the only thing that succeeds - but a movie about dance music should carry you along on a wave of seemingly boundless energy. Instead, the film's vacuous plot, dull characters and trite message kill any momentum before it has a chance to build and the whole thing may very well have you snoozing way before the end of what is a very, very long 96 minutes.