X Men Origins: Wolverine

Ever since Christopher Nolan took up the directorial reigns of the two latest Batman films, superhero movies have taken a turn for the better. Basic, one dimensional superheroes fighting the good fight have been replaced with dark and brooding creatures, with character development as intrinsic as the next action sequence. The change is not necessarily an unwelcome one and has allowed superhero films to break free from their origins of spandex stereotyping to the forefront of mainstream culture. X Men Origins: Wolverine adheres to his now staple formular by focussing on the series most developed character, Gabe Logan (Wolverine), a mutant with extraordinary strength and healing powers, but ironically suffers from the mutations of the three previous X-Men films, where sumptuous graphics are favoured over plot.

The film covers the events leading up to Wolverines discovery by the X-Men group in the first X-Men film. The first sequence is a beautiful, grainy montage of Gabe and his brother, another mutant, fighting through various American wars to the point that Logan soon becomes disillusioned by the injustice of his supposed compatriots. The dramatic tone set by this premise succeeds in creating an evocative atmosphere of tension, aided by a fantastic performance by Liev Schreiber (The Painted Veil/Defiance) playing Logan’s brother. Initial promise is soon eradicated as the film dissolves into mediocrity.

The film is inadequately paced, with viewers lost amid a flurry of set pieces and shiny claws, leaving in its wake a bloody and tattered excuse of a plot. Critical points in Wolverine’s development are highlighted with a certain directorial immaturity, whereby a viewer not read in the comics would be left confused. A glaring example is when Wolverine is given a leather jacket by two kindly old folk who take him in. The stylish apparel is an iconic piece of kit that we associate with Wolverine, but why the instance is given predominance in the scene is anybody’s guess. New characters are introduced for a criminally brief period, which is a shame for they form the most interesting action sequences of the film, despite a gratingly annoying performance from one-trick actor Ryan Reynolds (Van Wilder/Smokin’ Aces) playing razor-sharp, dual-sword wielding Deadpool, whose performance is about as sharp as a butter knife.

Where the film shines is in its CGI, as explosive as it is visceral. The sound goes hand in hand with the effects beautifully and every punch, kick and swipe onscreen is felt with full force. However herein lies the age-old issue of FX dominating over plot, where the budget is blown on graphics in the vain hope of covering major plot holes.

Whether the sight of a grizzled and sweaty Hugh Jackman cavorting through lavish backdrops makes you reach for the nearest cold shower or the gym card, leaving your brain at home will ensure a violent and visually sumptuous treat.

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Entertainment in British television has for decades been held in high regard, its evolution perfectly matched to the needs and wants of a demanding public. Though in more recent years, the programming has become more languid. Banality has replaced originality, whereby shows regurgitate ideas and where a culture of instant-gratification is becoming more and more apparent.

British humour has been hit the hardest. The subtle sense of satire and self- deprecation that forms the lifeblood of British comedy has been discarded in favour of new shows that gravitate towards repetitive toilet humour for cheap thrills. ‘Little Britain’ is one such example. The first episode showed much promise for its scathing critique of British life that was all too true. The characters lampooned British stereotypes in an exaggerated way, similar to ‘The Fast Show’ that had already seen major success. Though as the series progressed, the façade quickly wore thin. Recurring characters with recurring themes became the norm and the one-dimensional nature of the show quickly became clear. Some years ago this could have spelt the end of a series, but rehashed series still crop up, for example ‘The Catherine Tate Show’

So what implications might this have on the nation other than a steady depreciation of innovation? Recent studies in primary schools show that children’s development of vocabulary is on the decline. The finger can all too often be pointed at modern culture as a scapegoat for these issues, but there is new evidence of televisions influence on children’s behaviour. A recently conducted focus group sheds light on this complex subject:

“Asked about their pupils' viewing habits, teachers, support staff and school leaders said the programmes led to general rudeness in the classroom, with pupils answering back, mimicking, using retorts and catchphrases (mentioned by 88%), and swearing or using inappropriate language (82%) after watching them.” (Guardian online)

In a world where television is a predominant medium in most children’s lives, with more than one seven year old in five having a TV in their bedroom, the study has some validity.

Another offender is the relentless influx of reality shows. Big Brother has devolved in taste from an original concept that cleverly fought off allegations of sensationalism by adding a psychological ‘info-tainment’ slant. The shows development has seen increasingly bizarre contestants being pitted against increasingly bizarre and tasteless tasks. Can entertainment truly be gleaned from watching the pained expression of a housemate munching a devastatingly strong chilli? Have we come so far in our development that stress and suffering are our favourite viewing pleasures? As far as mainstream television goes, exploitation seems at the heart of its output. ‘Britains’ got talent, the latest repeat of the ‘Popworld’ talent show formula, has taken this to new heights. The now world renowned Susan Boyle has been shot into the limelight by a twisted logic. Much drama is made from her story of caring for her mother and having little social life. Her appearance, though not directly mentioned, is made out to be of such stark contrast to her voice that it would seem that no-one had ever heard of a conventionally unattractive person being able to sing. Though she is of obvious talent, the subsequent media furore surrounding her shift into the spotlight, including her preening into a more beautiful creature, demonstrates a stark contrast to the earlier days of television and a perfect example of exploitation intended to monopolise.