Hit-Girl

Kick-Ass has got me to thinking… If I were to assume an alter-ego super-hero persona, what would be my outfit choice? I could go for a classic look, combining army camouflage with a modern aluminium helmet-shoulder-knee pad infused twist, or I could perhaps embrace my feminine side opting for pastel pinks, a silk cape – because capes are cool and silk is soft – and, to conceal my identity a rather fetching red leather mask.

True… that all sounds a little more like Leatherfest getup than super-slick comic book icon, but nonetheless, Kick-Ass has a point. Anyone can, potentially, become a super-hero with the right attitude.

It was around this idea (one vaguely borrowed from Watchmen) that the comic-book visionary, Mark Miller – The Ultimates, Wanted – created the Kick-Ass comic series. The great thing about having creative friends is that the meeting of minds can ignite ideas and produce truly exciting, groundbreaking art. Millar pitched his Kick-Ass idea to Matthew Vaughn who, fresh from the success of 2008s Stardust, lapped up the gritty concept, and set about making the film version of a comic concept filled to the brim with messed up violence.

As audiences become tired of the same old overindulgent, re-hacked, paint-by-numbers, material churned out by the Hollywood studios, now is the time of the independents to step up their game and take control of the potentially huge profits a successful film can create. Ever the opportunist, Vaughn, who made a cool £9 million producing Guy Ritchie’s Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels – and even more from Snatch – is leading the heard with Kick-Ass. The close-to-the-mark camaraderie proved a little too much to stomach for Hollywood who politely declined the concept at script stage. So Vaughn did the unthinkable and made it himself without the backing of a studio. Brave? Perhaps. Stupid? Perhaps.

Kick-Ass invites us into the world of Dave Lizewsk (Aaron Johnson); an average New York high school kid who, while chatting to his friends in their local comic-book-come-coffee-shop stumbles across an obvious question which will change his mundane life for good. “How come nobody’s ever tried to be superhero?” he asks. Queue heckles from his quick-witted, uber-geek buddies with uninspired retorts like: “nobody in the real world actually has any super powers.” Bruce Wayne did it without powers right? “Yeah but he had all those expensive gadgets that don’t exist.” Undeterred Lizewsk sets out on his quest towards hero-dom – creating a MySpace page, and ordering a green scuba suit online – and before long, Kick-Ass is born. The set up is deliberately cliché, exploiting parallels to comic adaptation predicators, poking particular fun at Rami’s Spiderman franchise.

Alongside Johnson’s Kick-Ass, the film features an array of other super-hero wannabes. Vigilante Father-Daughter duo, Big Daddy (Nicolas Cage) and the one that’s causing all the fuss — Hit Girl (Chloe Moretz) — add real Ka-Pow! to this fast-paced tongue-in-cheek crime fighting caper. Cage is back on form after a questionable decade of role choices (National Treasure,Ghost Rider). Sporting a wardrobe designed by Batman’s very own tailor, Cage’s Big Daddy is a nut that has truly cracked. Sounding like Christian Bale possessed by Adam West, his words trickle out with the comic delay of William Shattner’s recording career (I’m a rocket… man).

For a crime fighting maniac with highly questionable morals and revenge on the brain, Cage does well to portray Big Daddy’s unconditional love for his daughter, as he simultaneously teaches her the fine art of mass murder. Christopher Mintz-Plasse’s Red Mist adds that friend/foe sidekick/enemy ingredient into the mix, and offers his own (now reliable) unique, cute and venerable charm to the role.

Pioneering in both style and substance, this slice of American pie is very much a British affair. The adaptation of a Scottish comic-author, with a screenplay penned by two Brits, a British leading actor, and shot predominantly at Elstree Studios (A film called Star Wars was filmed there). It’s hard to believe the Scarface-esq den of Mafioso bad guy, Frank D’Amiso, with glamorous views of New York’s discerning Upper West Side was created in a sleepy suburb of outer London.

For the filmmakers involved, this movie is all about the detail. Like all great Directors, Vaughn has a clear-cut understanding of the importance of flow. The scene transitions are innovative and glossy and the soundtrack binds together any stray jagged edges. The Matrix-slow-mo-style shoot-off scene between Hit Girl and D’Amiso’s heavies is glorious cinematography, effects and gore combined.

While the uptight will cry with horror as the ‘C word’ passes through Hit Girl’s pre-pubescent lips – dressed as a school girl, brandishing a silenced pistol – the rest of us will revel in its twisted absurdity. There’s no sense in penalizing these free-thinking rebels for making killing, decapitation and revenge look very, very cool. Art and literature have been doing it for centuries; and this is art.

Kick-Ass does more to invigorate a comic-book adaption than any of its predecessors.

The back-story is strong, and the strength in the screenplay really shines through. From its opening sequence it’s evidently clear that this is a film with a difference. A film unbounded by the interfering eyes and ears of the studio. A film which pushes the boundaries and creates controversy while being fresh, engaging, witty and cool. And which seeps into our own lives, inspiring all of us to kick some ass.

Once in a while a person steps into our lives and changes our view on the world. That person allows us to open up and see things in a whole new light; to embrace our true natures and stand up for what we believe in. That person is Larry David and we need him in our lives. But now the final season of Curb Your Enthusiasm has come to an end; with a heavy heart we must now consider the daunting prospect of a Larry-free world.

For a show that was only created as a one-off, one-hour, mock-doc special, and was never intended to be a show in its own right, the profound success of it has been a huge surprise to all; not least Larry David. The self-confessed ‘rich fuck’ who co-created, wrote and produced hit US sitcom, Seinfeld, has become an on-screen cult icon for his larger-than-life portrayal of himself in HBO’s Curb Your Enthusiasm.

Sitcoms are a tried and tested formula. They take a cross-section of everyday life; a family, a group of friends, co-workers, and at the chosen demographic, the writers throw in a mix of often everyday, sometimes wacky scenarios to keep the characters and episodes interesting. What’s different about LD’s Curb? Well to start with, the show has no script. It’s more of a basic outline coupled with an LD pep-talk along the lines of “here’s the idea… now let’s wing it.”

Beyond its off-the-cuff style, the show achieves greatness through LD’s candid outbursts and grossly self-indulgent antics. That, combined with a well-formed, celebrity infused supporting cast including Ted Danson, his real life spouse, Mary Steenburgen and Richard Lewis (all playing vaguely alternate versions of themselves). Guests who have streaked across the show’s seven-season run include the likes of the Ben Stiller (playing a maniacal prick just a cat’s whiskers away from his real-life persona), Mel Brooks, David Schwimmer, and not forgetting season seven centrepieces, Jerry Seinfeld and the rest of the stars of the Seinfeld troupe.

If you have not yet seen the show, then you’ve missed out. Sure, I’ve heard plenty of friends whining excuses as to why Curb is not their cup of tea. They say it’s “too hard for them to watch,” or “unbearably painful,” and “so cringe worthy.” But friends, that’s the beauty of Larry –– like a child with no sense of shame, he is here to show us all the way.

The final season of Curb has been a real treat, adding a fourth-dimensional aspect to an already 3D concept by staging a Seinfeld reunion show within the Curb show. Genius. It’s rare in Hollywood to find celebrities who have the guts to really poke fun at themselves and the patent absurdity of their own lives, but Curb does just that. In Larry’s world, the smallest thing has the power to tick him off, consume his thoughts and subsequently wreak havoc on those around him. That tick can be set off by just the smallest of incidents, or the slightest of gestures that don’t line up with LD’s perspective, watching the consequences unfold after that catalyst is sadistically enjoyable to behold.

Try this season five gem for size… In a regular sandwich spot Larry frequents, the owner proudly names the sandwiches after his celebrity regulars. Existing sandwiches include the Ted Danson and the Richard Lewis – both sandwiches containing a host of delicious ingredients. So when Larry discovers he’s finally been granted a place on the wall, and the Larry David sandwich is on the menu, his initial delight turns sour when the filling is revealed as white fish, capers, onions, and cream cheese. “That’s disgusting!” he bellows. Bare-faced arrogance takes hold of Larry as he sets out to swap sandwiches with Danson and Lewis, before it all backfires and ends badly –– the usual result of most of LD’s escapades.

The humor is played very close to the line. If you’re easily offended, then Larry is going to offend you. Since season one aired in 2000, the show’s tackled topics including car washing retards, race (season six’s opener was entitled “Meet the Blacks”), religion, cancer (Larry races to split with his girlfriend before she is diagnosed so he doesn’t look like a jerk), and one episode in season seven even sees Larry in hot water over his relationship with an eight-year-old girl. Of course, there’s nothing going on, but still, the content is borderline twisted. It pushes the boundaries to breaking point.

Dwelling within all of us in an inner Larry who’s just dying to burst out and tell the world off.

Once in a while, let your Larry out to play.

When the zombie first appeared on film in the 1930s, audiences became hooked on what they saw. Often depicted with crazed, transfixed, and bloodshot eyes, an insatiable hunger for human flesh and above all, a reckless disregard for human life, these terrifying creatures were slow-moving pack travelers. Audiences loved witnessing the random chaos visited on everyone and everything by these soulless corpses. As popularly conceived, a zombie is an infected human who has died from a virus, only to rise up as the ‘walking dead’ with a severe attitude problem.

These eerie creatures first identify, then surround, their victims, spreading infection at high speed, rampaging as they go. No wonder they became an enticing subject for film makers who, over the last century, have created thought-provoking and horrifying films built around them.

When George A. Romero released The Night of the Living Dead in 1968 he began a new era in zombie film making. Romero raised the creature’s profile to definitive cult status and inspired both fans and film makers around the world with his unique take on the zombie genre: a mix of classic horror/gore overkill with humor that established a new standard. Sequels like Dawn of the Living Dead, Day of the Dead, Land of the Dead, and Diary of the Dead followed suit. His work has continued to spur exciting contemporary directors to make modern zom-com classics like Shaun of the Dead and Zombieland which pay homage to Romero’s work. Other directors like Danny Boyle have taken a more serious and thoughtful stance, examining our drive to avoid irradiation as well as the impact of “total infection.”

Whatever the take, zombie films live on, and there’s no doubt that zombies will continue to dominate our screens for many years to come. With the firm belief that every zombie freak should have his day and draw up a list of the ten best, here’s mine.