According to the BBC comedy Extras, Ben Stiller is an egomaniac, utterly self-absorbed and obsessed with the opening weekend box office take of his films. That was a comedy creation of course, and the Stiller in this film is almost the exact opposite – a drifting slacker trying to make sense of his life and trying harder to do not much. The only thing the two versions of Stiller have in common is that they are both unlikeable men, and it’s to Greenberg’s huge credit that 107 minutes in his company are always a complete pleasure.

Stiller is an unlikely hero of US indie slacker comedy, but here he’s a perfect fit, along with director Baumbach and co-writer and co-star Leigh. Baumbach is best known for the delightful, spiky Squid And The Whale, and Margot At The Wedding (which also starred Leigh). It’s a formidable team, and the result is an understated, surprisingly funny and punchily detailed look at a mid-life crisis.

Stiller is Roger Greenberg, a carpenter and former member of a rock band who is house-sitting his brother’s lovely LA home. Roger has been in New York for some years, and now is back to do ‘not much’ for six weeks. However, it’s not as simple as that – he has to look after Mahler, the family dog, who falls ill, he is constantly hassled by the LA lifestyle, writes letters of complaint, and worse, old pals emerge from the woodwork to make him face some truths in his life. There’s old band member Ivan (Ifans), now married to a ‘racist’ and with a kid, and  Beth (Jason Leigh), whom Roger discovers he still has a huge crush on despite her clear lack of interest in him.

Then there’s the housekeeper, Florence (Gerwig), a girl who seems as fragile and as geeky as Roger is depressed and angry. They begin a hilariously awkward physical relationship, but that quickly fizzles out as Roger is too obsessed with himself to pay her any real attention. Their relationship is played out in an entirely believable, adult, detailed and sensitive way and never follows a predictable path.

Some may find Baumbach’s characters just too indie and naval-gazing to garner attention, but his great strength is in finding humour in just about any situation, however dark. Roger’s first attempt to swim a length of the pool is unbelievably funny, and his constant surliness and complaining – he’s always writing letters to Starbucks and American Airlines – is delicately written. The dialogue crackles and is consistently entertaining, but there is always a real character under there somewhere. Roger himself is actually a pretty awful man – numbed by anti-depressants, he drinks and smokes too much, is grumpy and rude, yet weirdly sensitive about himself – as his pal Ifans points out in one of the film’s best scenes.

Even the best scripts can only do so much, and in a story as dark as this a huge amount of skill is needed by the actors, and everyone here is on top form. Stiller is a revelation, constantly hunched into a coat even in an LA summer. He’s nerdy, brusque and at times unbearable, yet always watchable and vulnerable. His blast of dialogue on the effects cocaine has on him is expertly delivered. Ifans is on his best form as the long-suffering best pal – did Roger really sabotage their band or was it more complicated than that? Either way, his character has embraced adulthood far more than the child-like Roger. Then there’s Gerwig. Not since Jennifer Jason Leigh herself has an actress produced such a combination of hopeless directionless and utter charm – her ego is paper-thin, she is awkward, potentially unbalanced, yet utterly, completely beguiling. When Roger goes to see her sing in a tiny bar it’s so easy to see why he would fall for her, which makes his appalling behaviour to her all the more unforgivable. Yet forgive him we do.

There are a couple of overlong and talky scenes, especially when Roger tries to be cool at a party of kids and ends up being plain nasty, but that apart this has the perfect mixture of sweet and sour.

Overall verdict: Sweet, charming, sophisticated tale of a mid-life crisis which never resorts to sentimentality or easy laughs.

Reviewer: Mike Martin

Letters To Juliet is the sort of film that’s likely to divide audiences. You’re either going to find it cheesy, insipid tosh or leave with a rosy glow in your heart. However, with a romantic-chick-lit title like Letters To Juliet, that’s probably how it should be.

Based on the fact that over the years women really have written letters to the fictional heroine of Romeo & Juliet and posted then into the wall under the place that was supposedly her Veronese balcony, Letters To Juliet sees Amanda Seyfried’s as Sophie, an American in Italy, who comes across one of these letters when she meets a group of women called Juliet’s Secretaries, who gather up the romantic missives and write replies. In the letter Sophie gets hold of, which has languished unanswered for half a century, a young British girl expresses her feelings about the young Tuscan boy she met and fell for, before leaving him behind when she got cold feet.

Then things take an ‘only in the movies turn’, when Sophie decides to write to the now middle-aged woman, Claire (Vanessa Redgrave), which immediately causes her to hop on the next plane to Verona. Claire also brings her grandson, Charlie(Christopher Egan), with her, presumably because movie law demands Seyfried gets a potential love interest or two as well, especially considering the movie is clear from the outset that her current fiancé (Gael Garcia Bernal), is not right for her. And in paradoxical movie fashion, we know Charlie is Mr. Right, because he instantly dislikes Sophie on meeting her (although that of course will change).

Once all this is set up, it’s a bit like a join the dots puzzle, as Sophie, Charlie and Claire head off to find the man Claire left behind all those years ago, stopping off along the way for the prerequisite ups, downs and difficulties, before trundling towards the conclusion you’ve known was coming all along.

As I said, even the slightly cynical will find it insultingly predictable, pallid, ridiculous and full of paper-thin characters who if you met them in real life, you’d find them wet and tedious. Yet the film is so careful not to offend, put the characters in too much jeopardy (emotional or otherwise), and goes about things so efficiently, that it’s almost feels like you’re being wrapped in comforting blanket, where you know what’s going to happen and are merely happy for the fantasy to be fulfilled in such a pleasant, undemanding way.

It’s helped in this by wallowing in the Italian scenery. Italy is a country that Hollywood loves not just because of its reputation for romance, but because it’s a modern nation where you can carefully place your camera to suggest it sits outside time. Except for the lack of corsets, this could be the Italy of EM Forster, as rarely does a sign on the modern world sneak into the camera frame. It’s a place where anything could happen, and it can do so while looking ridiculously picturesque.

Amanda Seyfried seems to be becoming the queen of these verge-of-tears romances (with occasional deviations such as Jennifer’s Body), and with her big round eyes and vulnerability she’s certainly good at it. It’d just be nice if she can find scripts that go beyond working efficiently and actually delve deep into the profound mysteries of the human heart.

Overall Verdict: A daft, sentimental movie-land romance, but which looks so pretty and works so efficiently it’s difficult not to smile at it.

Reviewer: Phil Caine

Some directors are versatile, while others seem to work best in a particular environment.  Antoine Fuqua’s premiere milieu seems to be crime, as when he’s stepped outside that, such as with Tears Of The Sun and King Arthur, the results have been less impressive than the likes of Training Day and Shooter.

Brooklyn’s Finest sees him in familiar criminal territory, with a story that revolves around three separate New York cops and the events that eventually bring them together. Eddie (a surprisingly good Richard Gere), is a completely disenchanted patrolman, who’s only got a week until retirement and is counting down the days while swigging whiskey and thinking about killing himself. Then there’s Tango (Don Cheadle), an undercover cop who’s been on assignment too long and is desperate to get out, especially as he now considers the man he’s supposed to bring down (Wesley Snipes) a friend he doesn’t want to betray. Finally we have narcotics cop Sal, a religious man trapped between his ethics and his need to feed and house his growing family. Sal’s desperately in need of money and with all the cash from drug busts lying around the temptation proves too strong, even though he knows it’s wrong.

Fuqua was obviously aiming high with Brooklyn’s Finest, hoping for the same response he got with Training Day, while telling a more complex, interwoven ensemble story. However the problem seems to be that he’s aiming higher than the script could ever deliver, meaning that while there’s some tension and a suitably gritty and often grim mood, it has a tendency towards feeling overblown and overcooked. Fuqua has basically taken what is an okay but pretty clichéd script, and directed it like it was The Departed.

Brooklyn’s Finest Trailer

All three cops are living on the edge of the law and trying to regain their humanity and sense of self, while being pushed into situations where Brooklyn’s Finest are so fine anymore. That’s got plenty of potential for a complex tense film, but as you may have realised from the character description above, each cop feels like he’s be taken out of the book of stock characters and dusted down for another go around. That would be fine if the screenplay itself could find the dramatic urgency and sweep that Fuqua is obviously aiming for, but it can only do so in fits and burst. There are some great scenes where it really hints at its potential, but between these Fuqua pushes the drama further than the script can tolerate, making it all a little more implausible than it might otherwise have been.

However, while it is a potboiler that keeps boiling over, it’s still very watchable, with, as mentioned some excellent scenes, good performances (particularly from Hawke), and Fuqua showing that despite over-reaching he has a real knack for gritty urban drama, which feels as it’s delving deep into a world of moral and social ambiguity. It’s just a shame the script doesn’t really match the gravitas the acting and direction goes for.

Overall Verdict: There’s fine acting, excellent individual scenes and taut direction, but they feel as if they’re aiming for a film that’s less clichéd and overblown than Brooklyn’s Finest.

Reviewer: Phil Caine

Director Christopher Smith has made some of the most effective, clever, chilling and witty low-budget horror flicks in recent times – so what on earth has gone wrong here? Whereas Severance, Triangle and Creep were huge fun, pitching perfectly the balance between horror and black humour, this gets it wrong in just about every way imaginable.

It has no tension, zilch humour, little narrative drive and substitutes buckets of blood for horror. In fact, if the Razzies weren’t so American-biased this would be right up there for all categories.

The black death is spreading around England in the Middle Ages and a band of soldiers is dispatched to find a village that seems to be immune from it. Boy monk Osmund (Redmayne) knows the area and needs to escape from his monastery to try and forget his true love Averill’s recent departure. The soldiers, led by Sean Bean’s Ulric, believe the plague is God’s punishment for the barbaric war with France, but Osmund is not convinced.

Before you can say “hey nonnie nonnie” they find the village, run by the mysterious Hob (McInnerny) and Langiva (van Houten), and believe that she is a practicing necromancer who can raise Osmund’s now dead love back to life. Is she a witch, and what are Hob’s secrets?

Black Death Trailer

It’s difficult to know exactly who to blame here – Smith for apparently taking the thing so seriously, or the actors who look as lost as a Knight in a Monty Python film. McInnerny is bonkers when he should be sinister, van Houten is shrill and irritating – a long way from Black Book – and David Warner chews scenery half-heartedly. Bean meanwhile dials his performance in more than usual.

Some of the scenery is pretty, and Redmayne at least takes his role seriously – along with Glorious 39 he is building a portfolio which may lead to big things. But any film that includes the credit Fitch – The Torturer really has run out of ideas. Really not good enough.

Overall Verdict: Poor misfire of a medieval horror film, in which the tone is all wrong with performances to match.

Reviewer: Mike Martin

British director Jim Field Smith seems to be doing things backwards by making his first feature film, She’s Out Of My League, for a Hollywood studio, before planning to return to Blighty for the upcoming Good Luck Anthony Belcher and All Quiet On The Orient Express. While She’s Out Of My League is his first film, he shows he’s knows what he’s doing. A former member of a Perrier Award nominated sketch troupe and director of numerous high-profile commercials, he’s a man who has experience with both filmmaking and comedy, which is a potentially potent mix.

Jay Baruchel plays airport worker Kirk, a scrawny loser who’s used to getting laughed at by his buddies and being taken advantage of by his family. Still reeling from a break-up and with his friends telling him he’s a five out of 10 in the potential boyfriend stakes at best, he’s as surprised as anyone when Molly, who’s ‘a hard 10’, takes an interest in him.

While in most films he’d be right to be worried, as she’d only be after him for her own nefarious ends (or because he’s a middle-aged star who has it contractually written into his contract that all films he appeared in must feature a besotted woman who’s under 35), here she genuinely likes Kirk for who he is, and the most of the rest of the film is about how Kirk’s own insecurities and lack of confident might undermine the relationship.

Part of the breed of Judd Apatow-style comedies that deal with male neuroses, She’s Out Of My League is far more successful than movies of its ilk. It realise that while some people might like gross-out hi-jinks, it’s really the characters they respond to, and that in this type of comedy, more important than in-your-face crassness is empathy with the characters. After all, who hasn’t had a downer on themselves at some time or another and wondered why a partner would want to be with them?

You can probably already guess where the film is headed and it doesn’t really deviate from the formula, but it’s an entertaining ride as Kirk finds his self confidence and begins to realise maybe he isn’t such a loser after all. It’s essentially a reverse rom-com, as in most films it’s the woman who need to learn to be confident and believe in herself, but She’s Out Of My League is here to say (as if anyone didn’t know) that men can be neurotic too. The result is that while it refuses to conform to the usual rom-com gender stereotypes, it nevertheless feels oddly formulaic.

She’s Out Of My League Red Band Trailer

The film ends up in the almost perverse position where it’s great when it’s rolling along with geeky but lovable Kirk and his new stunner of a girlfriend, but trips over itself when it tries to fill its gross-out quota. It’s difficult to know whether the original script was a lot grosser and got toned down (which it may have been as it’s from the writers of Sex Drive and Hot Tub Time Machine), or if the studio artificially wanted to gross it up, but it definitely feels like the ‘raunchy’ and ‘sweet-natured’ sides of the film are working against each other. It means it’s a sweet and funny movie, with a good-nature and thoughtful demeanour, but which occasionally drops in a clanging scene about manscaping, or which takes having an overbearing family to the point where it becomes unpleasant bullying.

Luckily though, the heart of the film wins through, thanks to a good cast, including Baruchel who finally gets leading man status after hanging around in the background of the likes of Knocked Up and Tropic Thunder. Here he shows more enough geeky charm and comic skill to prove he deserves top billing. Although the girlfriend role might have been a bit of a thankless one, Alice Eve injects a lot of life and fun into Molly, a character who could so easily have been a cardboard cut-out for the males to obsess over. Likewise, T.J. Miller, Mike Vogel and Nate Torrence, as Kirk’s friends Stainer, Jack and Devon, could have come across as nasty, unredeemable assholes, but the script and acting manage to pull it off.

Although She’s Out Of My League is by no means a masterpiece, and plot-wise it’s pretty formulaic (but with the gender roles revered), it’s a lot better than most wannabe Apatow flicks. It’s also suggests Smith may be a director to watch out for, as while he’s not showy, he concentrates on building the characters and letting the humour come from this, which is a relatively rare thing in a world where most directors seem to think an audience will only laugh if you shove jokes in their face than have nothing to do with anything.

Overall Verdict: Although the occasional gross-out moments fall rather flat and it’s slightly formulaic, She’s Out Of My League is sweet, charming and well worth a look.

Reviewer: Phil Caine

Director Rian Johnson’s Brick (2005) was one of the most original, refreshing debuts in a very, very long time. It was always going to be a big struggle to follow it up, but it has to be said The Brothers Bloom is a quirky, witty and engaging adventure, if not quite in the same league as Brick (even if the film has taken a full two years to reach the UK).

What Johnson did with his debut was take one of the most revered genres in film – the film noir – and update it, set it in a high school and inject it with a huge dose of adrenaline. It paid off handsomely, but left Johnson with a massive problem – how to keep his form going.

Bloom is a big left turn, a sort of globe-trotting adventure with an almost childish (in a good way) sense of fun. The brothers in question are Bloom and Stephen (Brody and Ruffalo), orphans from a young age whose relationship is set up in a brilliant pre-credit sequence where they are constantly shunted to and from new foster parents. The older brother, Stephen, is a survivor, and works constantly on trickery to con people out of their money, all to ensure he and his brother are cared for. Bloom on the other hand is more sensitive and shy, and carrying a sense of loss for the girl he never kissed.

Fast forward to the boys as adults, now fully paid up members of the con artists’ union, tricking their way around the world with a third member of the team, explosives expert Bang Bang (Kikuchi), who is virtually silent. Their next ‘mark’ or plan is to relieve eccentric millionaire Penelope (Weisz) of her millions. To do this Bloom will woo her, Stephen will reveal a plan to rob a priceless prayer book, and they will then double cross her.

Penelope though turns out to be quite different to how they imagined. She was brought up alone for years, believing that she was allergic to everything – in fact it was the needles that injected the toxins – and entertained herself by learning languages, juggling, dancing, table tennis and photography. She is also borderline autistic – one of the funniest scenes is Brody unveiling his smooth romantic patter to an utterly confused Penelope. “I’m not very good with people” she explains.

The gang board a steamer and set off, Pink Panther style, to steal the book, but will the double-cross work, or will Bloom, as his brother suspects, fall for the gawky but charming Penelope? Well, it doesn’t take a genius to work out the way it will play out, but Johnson throws in so many double crosses it does at least keep you on your toes.

The Brothers Bloom Trailer

It’s a strangely out of time film – apart from the odd mobile phone it could easily be set in the 30s, with all the characters wearing dated clothing, but it does cast a spell. Johnson is clearly good at focusing on awkward, strange loners, and Penelope here is a typical creation. It all depends hugely on the charm of the characters, and the three leads are on such engaging form they do manage to pull it off. Robbie Coltrane has a Sellers-esque cameo as an enigmatic Belgian, whose pronunciation of “catacombs” rivals Sellers’ famous “burm”.

It’s an old-fashioned adventure romp, with some gorgeous European settings – Prague, Serbia and Romania feature heavily – and it looks wonderful throughout. Unforgiving fans will find it baggy, overlong, too cutesy and self-consciously quirky, but if you’re in the right mood it’s diverting and sweet, if nowhere near as dark or menacing as Brick. It will do nicely as a holder, while Johnson plans his next move, which hopefully will be tighter and grittier.

Overall verdict: Quirky, plotty, talky European adventure with great central performances, a Pink Panther-style plot and a slightly too self-conscious air.

Reviewer: Mike Martin