Surrogates (2009, Dir: Jonathan Mostow)

Jonathan who? Ah, Jonathan Mostow. Last seen directing the third Terminator film back in 2003 – and suspiciously hasn’t done a thing since. It seems he’s determined to make a scary film where androids doggedly pursue humans – in his new film, a one-armed Bruce Willis in a really bad wig, chases a man relentlessly through a commune. Now that isn’t scary, it’s plain hilarious. Can you imagine Bruce Willis chasing you in any form?

I’m always curious as to why Bruce has ended up with this tough-guy-hero image. He’s great in Die Hard, but what has he done to maintain it since? Die Hard 2? Rubbish. Die Hard 3? Originally scripted to be a Lethal Weapon film (true story) and it reeks of it. Die Hard 4? Not bad, but still not perfect. Other than that?

Okay, he’s been in a few great films – Pulp Fiction and Twelve Monkeys come to mind, but I can’t think of anything else that’s anywhere close to classic status – so why is he supposed to be this big action hero? He’s nowhere near his Planet Hollywood buddies. With Stallone, you get Rocky and First Blood – both perfect – and that’s before you get to anything else (like the excellent Copland, and err...Stop! Or My Mom Will Shoot). Schwarzenegger has a number of films that hit the spot – the first two Terminators go without saying, and there are a number of films (Total Recall, True Lies, Predator) that match anything from Bruce’s oeuvre. So why is Bruce supposed to be a hard man? He’s the cinematic equivalent of Danny Dyer. Only balder, 20 years older and less cockney.

Anyway, back to Surrogates. The first act is crazy – all the cast walk around in shiny make-up (and in Bruce’s case, one of the worst wigs this side of Norma Bates) – which, with the less-than-muted colour palette and neon lighting, make it eerily reminiscent of late 80s action flicks. There hasn’t been a murder in umpteen years, because everybody’s so happy living inside their robotic avatars, but what’s this? Aha, it’s a good old-fashioned murder. Somebody’s fried the eyes out of James Cromwell’s son, and Brucie’s on the case.

Surrogates could be a decent film. With a different director, and maybe a leading man who isn’t restricted to one facial expression (I like to call Bruce’s look “bewildered glow”), but at the end of the day, the concept is too big for the film to handle, especially with its 88 minute running time.

Try again Bruce.

The Damned United (2009, Dir: Tom Hooper)

...or Alienation & Earlobes, as it could be titled.

What does a world leader do with his time once he leaves office? Write a memoir? Tour the world, public-speaking? Venture into big business? If you’re Tony Blair, the answer is ‘none of the above’.

In his second film set in the 1970s, the former Prime Minister plays celebrated football manager Brian Clough, struggling through his doomed 44-day tenure at Leeds United in 1974. Adapted from David Peace’s ‘imagined’ novel, director Tom Hooper and screenwriter Peter Morgan have produced a cracking little film – a wonderfully realised period-piece set in the north of England, and featuring a great cast.

Hooper’s first shot is magnificent – an external shot of Elland Road on a dreary, overcast and drizzling day. Matching the weather, we see a lightning storm of flashbulbs explode inside as Don Revie resigns from Leeds to take the England Manager position, paving the way for Clough to succeed him. The non-linear narrative, matching the novel, then takes us back a few years to the start of Clough’s ascent at Derby County and the roots of his ambition to better Revie.

Timothy Spall, excellent as always, plays Clough’s right-hand man Peter Taylor, and we’re even treated to an appearance by Jim Broadbent as Derby chairman Sam Longson. Broadbent sleepwalks through his performance, probably weighted down by the oversized prosthetic old-man earlobes assigned to his character.

The film really evokes the magic of football, before the days of satellite television when games really did kick-off at 3pm on a Saturday. The scenes set at Derby’s Baseball Ground stadium are particularly nostalgic, with the smell of musty changing rooms wafting off the screen.

After a forced denouement (let off the hook for using Fleetwood Mac’s brilliant Man Of The World), a nice epilogue shows us a few real-life clips of Clough’s achievements following the events of the film. Thankfully it doesn’t show him drunk on television or assaulting fans.

(Seriously though, Michael Sheen is a fucking chameleon. Aside from a few lines when he seems to fall back into David Frost, he really gets under the skin of Clough. If this man does not win a Best Actor Oscar at some point in his career, there is no justice.)