The Lion King (2019)

 

The Low-Down: For the past decade, Disney has dedicated an immense amount of resources to translating its classic animated films into live-action blockbusters – with varying degrees of success. This new incarnation of The Lion King is unusual because it is, in itself, another kind of animated film: all its creatures, great and small, are computer-generated to look photo-real. The technical wizardry on display is undoubtedly impressive. But the final film winds up undermining its own existence – what is the point of re-making something that evidently works so much better with traditional hand-drawn animation?

The Story: If you’ve seen the original 1994 film, there’ll be no surprises here. We are introduced to the adorable Simba (voiced by JD McCrary as a cub, before ageing into Donald Glover), the little prince who will one day lead his pride as a king. But even the best-laid succession plans crumble into dust when Simba’s sinister uncle, Scar (Chiwetel Ejiofor), plots against reigning king Mufasa (James Earl Jones). After tragedy strikes, Simba is forced to build a new life for himself – even though his true destiny lies far closer to home.

The Good: There’s no denying that the cutting-edge technology used to bring Simba’s pridelands to life is really quite remarkable. It’s photo-real in a way that probably wasn’t possible even a few years ago, and you’d be forgiven for thinking you’ve stumbled onto a sublimely shot nature documentary if you watch this film without the sound on. That’s not advisable, however, as director Jon Favreau clearly put some effort into engineering a new soundscape for the film. Elton John’s score is beautifully refreshed, mixed with a fresh energy and rhythm that work very well (even though the new songs – Beyonce’s Spirit and John’s end-credits number, Never Too Late – aren’t particularly memorable). The new voice cast is mostly very appealing. Glover never quite manages to slip under Simba’s skin, but Ejiofor deliciously unearths several shades of evil as Scar, and John Oliver is a hoot as fluttery hornbill advisor Zazu.

The Not-So-Good: The biggest problem with this film is that its best feature also happens to be its worst. This new kind of photo-real animation looks great, but it somehow manages to appear life-like while lacking any actual life. As it turns out, hyper-realistic lions can’t emote or talk like humans, so it borders on the ridiculous (and unnerving) to have them do just that. Moments that broke your heart in the original 1994 film might make you giggle 25 years later. It’s unfortunate, too, that Favreau’s film hews so closely to its predecessor’s script and story beats. With that crucial spark of life – or soul, as it were – already missing from these lions, you’ll only become more aware of the weaknesses that have always been a part of Simba’s rather patchy emotional trajectory. (Chiefly: does he actually learn anything? Guilt and grief alone do not a character’s growth make.)

Comic Relief: Favreau’s film almost slavishly follows its predecessor, except it allows comedians Billy Eichner and Seth Rogen a little room to riff as Timon (meerkat) and Pumbaa (warthog) respectively. Together, they provide some of the film’s funniest – as well as its most annoying – moments. In one instance, they make an inspired reference to another classic Disney movie that’s a surefire crowd-pleaser, even though its cheeky meta-textuality adds to the film’s tonal woes.

Recommended? Not particularly. This Lion King is more misfire than masterpiece.

 

Spider-Man: Far From Home (2019)

The Low-Down: There’s a lot riding on the slim, young shoulders of everyone’s friendly neighbourhood Spider-Man. Far From Home is the first film in the Marvel Cinematic Universe (MCU) since the recent double-whammy of Avengers movies changed the status quo forever. Where does the most successful superhero franchise in the world go after this? Can non-legacy superheroes – like Spider-Man, Black Panther, Captain Marvel etc – carry on where Iron Man left off? Is the MCU running out of steam? It’s a big burden for a relatively smaller film in the franchise to carry. But Far From Home does so very well by zeroing in on what has successfully fuelled the MCU thus far: prizing character development above all to tell a story that’s as emotional as it is entertaining.

The Story: Peter Parker (Tom Holland) is trying to find his bearings in an unsettled world. He, along with half his school-mates, has suddenly reappeared on Earth – unaged and not at all dead – five years after the Snap. His mentor, Tony Stark, haunts him in the form of video tributes and street art. There’s something strange going on between Aunt May (Marisa Tomei) and Happy Hogan (Jon Favreau), Tony’s Head of Security. Amidst the uncertainty, all Peter wants is to get back to normal: to enjoy his school trip to Europe, and to let MJ (Zendaya) know how he really feels about her. But world-saving duties wait for no young man. Suddenly, Peter is roped in by Nick Fury (Samuel L. Jackson) to do battle alongside Quentin Beck a.k.a. Mysterio (Jake Gyllenhaal), taking down rogue Elementals that have already ravaged one world and are hellbent on destroying another.

The Good: At its best, Far From Home impressively blends the awkward comedy of a coming-of-age romantic drama with country-hopping superhero action thrills. It’s a delight to watch Peter use his superhuman skills as Spider-Man to navigate his way through hormonal messes of his own making – often in the same scene. This is as intriguing a narrative direction as the MCU has ever taken: using a lighter, more humorous lens to examine the aftermath of Endgame’s darker, considerably more mature themes. At the same time, Far From Home finds a rather ingenious way to quietly become one of the MCU’s most political films. (More on this later.) It’s worth noting, too, that, in a franchise filled with sublime casting coups, Holland continues to prove himself to be one of its very best. He dances nimbly through Peter’s high-school misadventures, while still tapping into the heartbroken, traumatised core of his character.

The Not-So-Good: With the action focused so squarely on Peter, his friends – especially his love interest – invariably suffer. Jacob Batalon is as goofily charming as ever as Ned, Peter’s best friend, but he might as well have the words ‘comic relief’ tattooed across his forehead. Zendaya’s sparky, sarcastic MJ – while still an interesting twist on a classic character – comes dangerously close to being a damsel in distress. And, while Jon Watts’ direction is more zippy and confident than it was on Homecoming, he doesn’t always land or weave narrative beats together very effectively. As a result, the film occasionally sags when it should soar.

One of Life’s Great Mysterios: What is Gyllenhaal – indie movie darling and theatre thespian – doing in an MCU movie? It might seem like one of life’s great mysteries… but all will soon come clear once you realise just what drew him to the part of Quentin Beck. Fans of the comics will know that there’s far more to the character than what we saw in the trailers, but nothing will prepare them for how brilliantly he’s been reinvented for the MCU. Essentially, this is a gift of a role for the prodigiously gifted Gyllenhaal – allowing him to play every shade of hero (including a few notes of uncanny similarity to Robert Downey Jr’s Tony Stark), while also indulging his more whimsical, theatrical side. In retrospect, it’s easy to see how Gyllenhaal must have been drawn to the grim relevance of Quentin’s storyline to the world in which we live today. Just as Black Panther examined race and Captain Marvel explored toxic masculinity, Far From Home asks audiences to think about the concepts of truth and reality – at a time when both are very much under threat.

Fan Fare: Marvel has trained us all well – never leave the theatre before the credits stop rolling, for fear of missing a funny moment or a narrative nugget that hints at future films and storylines. This reaches a new level of necessity with Far From Home. Each mindblowing scene – one midway through and one at the very end of the credits – is vital to knowing (or, at least, guessing) where the MCU is going next. Also, watch out for one of Tony Stark’s beloved A.I. acronyms: it will apply, in a subversively clever way, to more than one character in the film, drawing laughs in one instance, and eliciting a deep sense of foreboding in another.

Recommended? Absolutely. There might be a few growing pains here and there, but Marvel has hit another home run – grappling effectively and emotionally with its immediate past, while raising the storytelling stakes for the future.

Chef (2014)

Anyone familiar with Jon Favreau’s work prior to Iron Man would know just how odd and brave it was for Marvel to entrust him with the film that would, ultimately, launch an entire Cinematic Universe. Pre-Tony Stark, Favreau largely lived in the realm of the quirky indie: dwelling on character rather than spectacle, finding humour within the everyday. So it’s nice to see Favreau returning to his quirky indie roots with Chef, a sweet, intimate, if rather familiar film about a small band of people struggling to figure out just what they want to do with their lives.

Favreau plays Carl Casper, a perfectionist chef whose career is effectively derailed when he throws a fit at celebrity food critic Ramsey Michel (Oliver Platt) for daring to give him a bad review. After his tantrum goes viral, Carl is forced to figure out what he wants to do next: keep cooking to order in someone else’s restaurant, or start over, completely from scratch – whipping up the kind of food that will touch people’s hearts.

The real crux of the film, of course, is not so much Carl’s professional choices as his personal ones. Along the way, Carl must re-connect with Percy (Emjay Anthony), the precocious son he’s neglected as a result of his job, just as he must learn to accept the help of the people who still care about him – including his ex-wife Inez (Sofia Vergara) and his former kitchen helper Martin (John Leguizamo).

What results is a pleasing, if somewhat formulaic, stew of character, comedy and cuisine. (The numerous montages of food being painstakingly prepared and served will have you hungry within the first half-hour.) Carl serves as an effective anchor for the film, though some of the emotional weight of his transition from respected chef to underground food truck guy doesn’t quite come through. Nevertheless, his evident anger issues and personal doubts feed into the script’s funnier and more dramatic moments, while his tender rapprochement with his son is so lovingly developed that it’s easy to forgive its occasional dips into predictability and mawkishness.

The top-notch cast adds greatly to the film’s appeal. Favreau is a winning screen presence, keeping his character’s irritability and rage just this side of sympathetic. Anthony is wonderful as Percy, a role that might grate in the hands of a more annoying young actor. Vergara (slightly miscast) and Leguizamo (cheeky and charming) lend able support, as do a host of A-list stars plucked out of Favreau’s phonebook. Scarlett Johansson, Robert Downey Jr and Dustin Hoffman all pop up in small parts, helping or hindering Carl in his metaphorical and literal journey towards self-actualisation.

There’s a whiff of the self-indulgent to Favreau’s passion project – one gets the sense at times that he couldn’t bear to tighten or edit his final cut, which winds up clocking in at just under two hours long. But it proves easy to forgive Favreau his indulgences when the resulting film is, for the most part, so sunny and full of good will. Ultimately, Chef serves up its plot –  simultaneously sweet and tart – with a generous helping of memorable characters and gentle comedy. It’s a great reminder of what Favreau can do with perfectly ordinary people, trying to figure out how to get by in their perfectly ordinary world.

Basically: Healthy, happy and hearty fare – if a little on the heavy-handed side.

 

Identity Thief (2013)

Identity Thief is stealing into cinemas here after being thrown into the equivalent of cinematic jail in the US. The film has been lambasted as a wasted opportunity and an essentially laugh-free ‘comedy’, one that scandalously squanders the talents of stars Jason Bateman and Melissa McCarthy. In a way, that’s true – director Seth Gordon can’t quite save the film from its frequent narrative detours, some of which are in truly questionable taste. But, all flaws aside, this is a rude, rambunctious screwball comedy that benefits hugely from the charm of its two immensely likeable stars.

Sandy Bigelow Patterson (Bateman) has a loving wife (Amanda Peet), two adorable daughters, a mortgage to pay for… and an oft-maligned unisex name. As you can imagine, he’s been teased his entire life for it. To add insult to injury, his identity and credit card information are swiped by Diana (McCarthy), who proceeds to spend his hard-earned cash in cheerfully reckless ways. To reclaim his future, Sandy must trek across America to confront the woman who’s living his life as large as she knows how.

To be honest, the plot of the film is pretty messy, littered as it is with contrivances that don’t quite add up. It just about works, if you squint and forget logic for a bit. But it’s tough to figure out just how to react to all the crazy shenanigans unfolding onscreen, since Identity Thief is so busy cycling between farce, road trip and black comedy that it fails to end up as much of anything. 

The film’s saving grace is its immensely talented leading actors. Bateman is saddled with a pretty thankless part, playing the grim-faced, resolute straight man to McCarthy’s loopy human hurricane. But he manages to prevent Sandy from being irrevocably uptight by lending just enough of his innate wry charm to the role.

McCarthy, meanwhile, is the real star of the whole enterprise. Through sheer force of will, she tears through the film, radiating so much charisma it’s impossible to imagine anyone else in the part. Frankly, Diana is a thoroughly off-putting character: she’s selfish, obnoxious and annoying, completely up-ending Sandy’s life to fill the void in her own. McCarthy somehow works magic, preserving everything about what makes Diana a horrible character, while still imbuing her with a sweetness and humanity that lend credibility to the film’s few introspective moments.

In the grand tradition of screwball comedies, a zany female bursts into the staid life of a buttoned-down male, and teaches him a little bit about life and loosening up. For better or for worse, Identity Thief takes that tradition and sprints merrily away with it, flinging decorum and good taste to the winds. It’s not a film that everyone will enjoy, for sure, but it’s not quite as bad as most critics have made it out to be either.

Basically: Ironically, this film has a bit of an identity crisis – but remains entertaining thanks to the combined talents of Bateman and McCarthy.

Iron Man 3 (2013)

How does anyone follow up on the absolutely stupendous Avengers, which took critics and the global box office by storm? The answer, according to Marvel Studios, is to continue entrusting its movies to relatively untested directors. To be fair, they’ve had excellent luck so far, with Jon Favreau and Joss Whedon respectively knocking Iron Man 1 & 2 and Avengers out of the park.

For this first major release after Avengers smashed box office records all over the world, Marvel has handed the reins over to Shane Black, an action movie scribe with only one directorial credit to his name: the super-slick, sassy action crime caper Kiss Kiss Bang Bang. The good news? Other studios should seriously consider copying Marvel’s tactic of gambling on comparative unknowns, because Black has delivered what’s very close to a perfect superhero movie. Iron Man 3 is packed to the brim with smarts, sass, action, and romance – and proves, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that there’s life and much potential yet for all the individual members of that superhero alliance.

The spotlight in Iron Man 3, of course, shifts firmly back onto genius billionaire Tony Stark (Robert Downey Jr), the man inside the iconic red and gold suit. Tony is, quite frankly, a mess: he’s still struggling to decompress after helping to save New York from an alien invasion, and he’s freaking out in particular over whether he can keep his beloved girlfriend Pepper Potts (Gwyneth Paltrow) safe. Before he can get his act even halfway together, the sinister Mandarin (Ben Kingsley) – an international terrorist with considerable resources – launches his campaign to take the entire world hostage.

The plot, actually, thickens quite a bit beyond that. Tony’s past comes back to haunt him in the form of spurned scientist Aldrich Killian (Guy Pearce) and his mysteriously powerful Extremis virus, a storyline loosely based on events that transpired in the comic books some seven years ago. Suffice it to say that Tony has his hands full dealing with the Mandarin on the one hand, and fending off Killian on the other.

Black, as it turns out, is an absolutely masterful ironmonger. He juggles the occasionally unwieldy plot against character development, and never allows the former to overwhelm the latter. As with its predecessors, this film explores Tony’s frailty and humanity, but does so in a fresh and interesting way. It’s fascinating here to see a Tony Stark who’s completely off his game but trying desperately not to show it – a man so used to maintaining a confident demeanour that he automatically throws off quips and sassy one-liners to cover up the doubts and anxiety that are eating him up inside.

This gives Downey Jr plenty of opportunity to strut his stuff, and he rises admirably to the challenge. Full of soul and swagger, his Tony Stark manages to be a million things at once: heartbreaking, mercurial, funny, charming, exasperating and – let’s be honest – completely perfect. In recent superhero casting history, there really hasn’t been a more ideal marriage of actor and character. It’s a particular treat in Iron Man 3 to watch him cycle almost effortlessly through his entire range, delivering a snappy comeback even while his heart is breaking in two.

That, by the way, is one of the other great thrills of this film. Black, with his co-writer Drew Pearce, has cooked up a delightfully sharp script, one that’s laced through with snarky dialogue, lovely repartee, and cheeky references to the likes of Downton Abbey. Downey Jr bickers and banters with just about everyone, it seems, sassing Killian, Pepper, his best buddy Jim Rhodes (Don Cheadle), the Mandarin and his faithful robotic companion JARVIS (voiced by Paul Bettany) in equal measure. He even engages in a few rounds of verbal fisticuffs with a little boy who becomes, for a fleeting moment, the Robin to his Batman – a relationship that, fortunately, is endearing rather than annoying.

For the most part, Black does justice by his supporting characters too. Paltrow gets to shine especially brightly as Pepper, who has always served as Tony’s reminder that he is, after all, human. The tables are turned here, in more ways than one, and they both get to live for a little while in each other’s shoes. As a result, their relationship – whether they’re arguing over  a giant fluffy bunny or protecting each other from harm – emerges as one of the best, sweetest elements of the whole film. The less said about the Mandarin and Killian the better, but suffice it to say that there’s more than meets the eye where the two characters are concerned – and both Kingsley and Pearce are absolutely magnificent in handling the nuances of their roles.

In case you’re concerned that this means Iron Man 3 is all emotion and no action, never fear. Black demonstrates a fine, fine eye for flinging all manner of mayhem at Tony Stark – and yes, that’s Tony and not Iron Man. For a large portion of the film, Tony fights for his life sans armour, and it’s thrilling to watch him invent ways to shake off his opponents without kicking the proverbial bucket in the process. When he does get back into his suit, however, he has forty-two of them to choose from – which makes for one of the most exhilarating cinematic showdowns in ages. That’s not even to mention the staggering aerial rescue Iron Man stages when the passengers on board Air Force One are forced unceremoniously to deplane in mid-air.

If there’s anything really wrong with Iron Man 3, it’s that the story tends to feel a little muddy and confusing in retrospect. The movie trundles along at a perfectly sensible clip, but thinking about it after the fact shows up its shaky internal logic.

That’s a small enough problem in an otherwise sublime blockbuster movie, however. Iron Man 3 isn’t just a great entry in the canon of Marvel’s string of super-successful superhero movies – it’s one of the very greatest, and in fact, possibly the best one starring Tony Stark yet. Fingers crossed Downey Jr – and on the strength of this outing, Mr Shane Black – can be convinced to return for a fourth installment.

Basically: Third time’s the charm – this is Iron Man’s best solo outing yet.

Iron Man (2008)

Much as I am a comic book fandork, specifically of the Marvel superhero variety, I’ve never been able to warm up to the Iron Man series. The main character, Tony Stark, was compelling enough, I suppose – a billionaire playboy helming the world’s largest and most successful weapons company, but who is actually a properly suited-up superhero on the side, kitted up as he is the iconic red and gold iron costume he designed and which allows him to fly and beat up bad guys and stuff. Yeah… if it isn’t obvious enough, I’d pretty much always preferred the X-Men to Iron Man.

That being said, however, I was more than willing to give Iron Man a chance: partly because it scored a real casting coup by allowing maverick character actor and erstwhile drug addict Robert Downey Jr to take the lead role of a blockbuster summer movie intended to spawn a franchise of epic proportions. Now that took guts. Moreover, director Jon Favreau, sometimes actor, always passionate advocate of retaining the wonder and magic amidst the spectacle and awe of fantasy films, seemed like a great and similarly out-of-left-field choice for director. Fortunately, on both these gambles, the producers scored big. But more on that later.

Tony Stark (Downey Jr), as already mentioned, is a playboy billionaire and genius inventor who has inherited his dad’s business and business partner Obadiah Stane (Jeff Bridges), whom he is happy to allow to run the show while all he does is… well, invent, enjoy his piles of money, and act as Stark Industries’ very handsome public face. On a sales tour through war-torn Afghanistan, however, Tony is abducted, imprisoned and forced to create a nuclear warhead for rebel terrorists… even as he has to create a new heart to power his own failing one, destroyed by the impact of the rebel attack. Soon, with the help of fellow prisoner and scientist Yinsen (Shaun Toub), Tony cobbles together in place of one nuclear warhead the first prototype of what will become his Iron Man suit… and busts out to freedom. His sojourn in captivity inspires him to become a better man and to change the face and workings of his company – little does he realise just how difficult a task he will have in changing Stane’s mind on this count…

It has always been particularly tricky for superheroes to be moved from the pages of comic books to the silver screen – genesis movies, when powers are acquired or develop and characters are established in the hope of creating a lucrative franchise that’ll play for years to come, are difficult beasts to wrestle into a form that would please both fangeek and critic alike. Fantastic Four was a misfire with both audiences, and I personally thought Superman Returns was awful. The problem is really having to draw up and flesh out a character for people who’ve never read the source comics, while also packing the film with enough action, heart and in-jokes to reward the diehard fans. In this particular instance, I feel that IM comes as close to Bryan Singer’s epic X-Men adaptations in producing a great movie that covers both bases and has plenty of room and style left to crack jokes and not take itself too seriously.

The film, of course, hits all the right notes that it’s supposed to hit as a superhero flick: there are breathtaking action scenes, whether it’s Iron Man first taking to the sky in a burst of jet-fuelled power, slicing through the clouds as you’d imagine he does in the comics, or his final bone-crunchingly painful encounter with his final nemesis (no spoilers here!). But aside from these epic clashes and moments of sheer jawdropping visual inventiveness, what makes IM a good film that isn’t defined merely by its genre and the inbuilt fangeek culture it already has going for it, is that you get an idea of Tony as both man and hero. From the brash, devil-may-care playboy to the man on a mission, his back story is filled in very adeptly, something which doesn’t always happen when action and spectacle is substituted for character and plot development. (See Fantastic Four… or don’t, actually.) It’s not perfect, of course. Some exposition is clunky, and if you really examine it, Tony’s change for the better is a redemption story told a thousand times before, one you probably didn’t need red-and-gold armour to tell again.

Which is where the casting coup comes in: Downey Jr is absolutely fantastic as Tony – he lends both his dark leading-man looks and acting chops to the role, and is clearly more than happy to get bashed up or play the role for laughs. (One of the film’s running jokes is Tony’s interaction with one of the little mechanical helpers in his underground workshop, who is always eager to douse Tony with liberal lashings of foam since the latter keeps setting himself on fire when testing out his Iron Man suit.)

Of course, IM is far from a perfect film – Tony’s interactions with his best buddy Jim Rhodes (Terence Howard) and devoted assistant Pepper Potts (Gwyneth Paltrow) occasionally feel forced, while Bridges comes awfully close to stinking up the entire production with the whiff of age-old ham. But these are small nitpicks – for the most part, IM sparkles with a kind of old-school energy and passion for its subject that hasn’t graced a summer blockbuster in what feels like a very long time. More importantly, and I’m not sure how Favreau did it, but somehow, he has – in IM – created as indie a superhero movie as possible i.e., one that has lashings of style, humour and also street cred among dorks and critics alike. Now that doesn’t come along every day, now does it?

The Break-Up (2006)

Don’t for a minute believe anything you might have heard about The Break-Up being a sweetheart of a rom-com. The deeply misleading advertising more or less sells the movie as newly-minted celeb couple Jennifer Aniston and Vince Vaughn’s Mr & Mrs Smith – a chance to watch these two fall in love onscreen just as Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt did in that other movie. Well, not quite. After watching Gary (Vaughn) and Brooke (Aniston) bicker, fight and squabble their way through the eponymous life-changing event, you will most decidedly not be leaving the cinema on a cloud with a brainlessly satisfied smile on your face for having managed to get yet another cheesy rom-com under your belt. No, TBU does not set out to put a jazzy, feelgood song in your heart – rather, it plays relentlessly to the tune of a moody rock operetta as Gary and Brooke, neither wishing to leave the swanky apartment they share after a particularly bad bust-up, tear each other’s lives and hearts apart without realising that they didn’t really break up because they had stopped loving each other.

There’s a lot of potential in that premise, and to director Peyton Reed’s credit, he does fashion quite an engaging movie out of it. It’s both funny and painful to watch Gary and Brooke do increasingly wince-worthy things to get their erstwhile other halves out of the apartment – Gary hauls in a pool table he’s always wanted, Brooke allows her deeply-closeted brother Richard (John Michael Higgins) and his acapella group to practise in her room… and that’s just the beginning. Soon, Brooke is bringing men home to make Gary jealous, while Gary retaliates by setting up a pseudo strip club in the living room. All very childish, but deadly serious – and therefore an acerbic, absorbing watch. However, it does tend to wear the audience down as the umpteenth fight unspools in messy, tangled horror across the screens, after which both protagonists retire to their corners to lick their wounds, and Brooke in particular moons around wondering how to get Gary back (because she really loves him, don’t you know).

Whether the movie sells out and completely makes a mockery of its title I’ll leave for you to find out (let’s just say that, even if it does, this isn’t the reason the movie disappoints), the problem here is TBU‘s very muddled attempt at character development. The story team (which includes Vaughn and named screenwriters Jeremy Garelick and Jay Lavender) try very hard to set Gary up as the kind of good-time guy everyone loves, who has coasted through life always getting his own way because people like him so much that they just give in to him. Well, yes to the second part. We see in great detail how Brooke, his best buddy Johnny (Jon Favreau) and brother Dennis (Vincent D’Onofrio) try to get him to do stuff he doesn’t want to, to no avail. But it’s very hard indeed to see why everyone keeps wanting to stay on his good side – aside from Vaughn’s own brand of laidback charm, which keeps Gary from straying over the line into becoming a completely irredeemable asshole, there isn’t anything particularly loveable about his character. And that’s where the film-makers falter – if they could have made Gary a truly winning, charming bastard, rather than a bit of an affable asshole, the movie would be far more convincing when it tries to psycho-analyse its male lead. Instead, it comes up wanting.

Even this isn’t the worst of its crimes. Aniston and Vaughn are professional enough – and yes, have quite enough chemistry – to hook you without your realising it. By the end, when Gary has realised that he too wants Brooke back, the trauma involved in trying to get around weeks of debilitating, spirit-crushing warfare lends the movie a tone of bleak realism that’s a refreshing change from most other relationship movies out there.

More criminal is the failure to capitalise on a brilliant supporting cast, which tends to be the sole saving grace in a typically tepid rom-com in which the leads are clearly just hanging around to collect their hefty paycheques so they can bankroll their next indie film project. Giving Favreau, for instance, more room to breathe would have been welcome, as it would probably have made Gary more sympathetic. Favreau and Vaughn clearly share a smart, cheeky affinity for each other, already obvious in their Swingers days, that is never allowed to spark into life during TBU, save for a hilarious final scene between them in which they discuss Gary’s options when it comes to dealing with a guy Brooke has brought home. But that comes too late to salvage the rest of the film… and most of the other performers, including cracking comedians like Joey Lauren Adams and Jason Bateman, hardly get a look-in at all. (If they do, they play stereotypes and are for the most part annoying rather than amusing e.g., Justin Long as Brooke’s gay receptionist, or Judy Davis as OTT gallery artist Marilyn Dean.)

A rom-com for all of five minutes, TBU actually works best as a no-holds-barred, sobering look – with a few laughs thrown in – at just how damn much can go catastrophically wrong in a relationship. It suffers from poorly-developed characters (Gary is paper-thin and Brooke too long-suffering to be true) and a wasted supporting cast, but Aniston and Vaughn do work very hard to make the movie more engaging than it should be… and somehow succeed in making an audience increasingly jaded by their outlandish antics discover that, somewhere along the way, they did start to care about just what happens to these two apparently bitter adversaries. You could certainly do worse than TBU… though, of course, the converse is true – you can definitely do better too.