Parky at the Pictures (In Cinemas 2/5/2013)

What makes The Eye of the Storm all the more ambitious, is the fact that a quarter of a century has elapsed since Schepisi last made a film in his homeland - the dingo baby saga, A Cry in the Dark (1988), which earned Meryl Streep an Oscar nomination for her performance as Lindy Chamberlain - and a decade has passed since he completed his last feature, It Runs in the Family (2003), which starred Kirk, Michael and Cameron Douglas. In truth, the 73 year-old seems a bit rusty, as he allows some scenes to drag and doesn't always prevent his stars from playing to the gallery. But Judy Morris's screenplay is laudably loyal to the book and its 1972 Sydney setting and the recent dearth of quality heritage pictures means this is certainly a welcome release.

As Centennial Park socialite Charlotte Rampling lies bedridden following a stroke, son Geoffrey Rush and daughter Judy Davis return from Europe to visit her. She is attended by nurses Alexandra Schepisi and Maria Theodorakis, while German housekeeper Helen Morse fusses over her with more affection than the waspish matriarch deserves and tries to keep up her spirits with bits of business from her old cabaret act. Rampling is pleased to see her offspring, but cannot resist mocking Rush's shortcomings as a stage actor and delights in mentioning his much-derided turn in King Lear. She is even more cutting towards Davis, however, who may be a princess, but is separated from her French aristocratic husband and has remained on the continent less because she hopes to patch things up than because she has reached the sobering conclusion that she has nowhere else to go.

A series of flashbacks explains the tensions between Rampling and Davis. Several years earlier, Davis had visited her mother on one of the tropical Queensland Islands with her new beau, Martin Lynes. However, Rampling had seduced him and Davis has never forgotten the pain of walking in on them in bed together. But, soon after they departed, Rampling was trapped on the island by a ferocious storm and had to seek sanctuary in an underground shelter in order to survive. Consequently, well aware that her children have come home less out of a sense of duty than expectation, Rampling summons lawyer John Gaden and takes sadistic pleasure in letting slip to his wife Robyn Nevin that they had once been lovers. Moreover, she asks Gaden to redraft her will so that he becomes the sole beneficiary.

Meanwhile, Rush has become enamoured of the lusty Alexandra Schepisi and, even though she has a long-term boyfriend in Dustin Clare, she embarks upon a sexual relationship with the much older man. Indeed, she even stops taking the pill and quickly becomes pregnant. However, Rush is so scandalised by her behaviour that he humiliates her in front of the staff and she flees in furious embarrassment. Feeling stifled by their cluttered surroundings and tired of having to be polite to such visitors as aspiring prime minister Colin Friels, Davis and Rush slip away to the countryside where they grew up. Davis confides in Rush about the Lynes incident and he proves so solicitously consoling that the siblings wind up in bed together.

Vowing not to repeat their rash act and never to speak of it again, Rush and Davis arrive back in Sydney just as Rampling takes a turn for the worse. She reconciles with her daughter before she dies, but Gaden ignores her final wishes and informs the pair that they have inherited a sizeable fortune. Distraught at losing the only friend she had, Morse commits suicide and Schepisi makes a dramatic return having suffered a miscarriage and Clare is happy to take her back. As for Rush and Davis, however, they seem to have learnt little from their ghastly experiences and now have the wealth to make even more lavish mistakes.

The recipient of 10 nominations from the Australian Academy of Cinema and Television Arts, this lively adaptation won for Melinda Doring's production design and Terry Ryan's costumes, while Rampling and Davis shared the Best Actress Award. They certainly shine and their scenes together have a seething bitterness born out of the former's envy of her daughter's youth and the latter's lingering senses of neglect and treachery. By contrast, Rush rather overdoes his character's hammy theatrics, while his voice-over narration often feels intrusive (as well as dramatically odd, as it makes the erroneous presumption that he is the central character). Nonetheless, his contrasting love scenes with Davis and Schepisi are fascinating. Indeed, the supporting turns are uniformly splendid, with Schepisi bursting with saucy vivacity, Gaden exuding guilty decency and Morse conveying a bonhomie that can't quite hide the melancholy that inspires her sad demise.

Morris ensures the cast has plenty of relishable lines and Schepisi handles the flashbacks as adeptly as he did in the London-set Graham Swift adaptation, Last Orders (2001). But he makes laboured use of overhead shots and often allows the momentum of several scenes to lapse by having Ian Baker's camera linger on details whose significance will mean more to White aficionados than casual viewers. Yet he catches the small gestures and expressions that are so key to the performances, while his insights into class, snobbery, age, egotism, loyalty and missed opportunity repay the decade that producer Antony Waddington spent mounting the production. 

The setting couldn't be more different for Adam Leon's debut feature, Gimme the Loot. But he and cinematographer Jonathan Miller capture the look and feel of the Bronx on a hot summer day so evocatively that this has a much greater authenticity and spontaneity than Schepisi's more mannered perfectionism. Rooted in a pair of documentaries, Charlie Ahearn's Wild Style and Tony Silver's Style Wars (both 1983), this borrows a simmering sense that anything might happen from Spike Lee's Do the Right Thing (1989). But it has none of the aggression that characterised the `hood movies that dominated the New Black Cinema of the early 1990s. Indeed, it feels closer in spirit to David Gordon Green's George Washington (2000) and even harks back further in time to Morris Engel, Ruth Orkin and Ray Ashley's coming-of-age gem Little Fugitive (1953), which followed young Richie Andrusco on an adventure to Coney Island after he convinces himself he has killed his older brother.

Teenagers Ty Hickson and Tashiana Washington start this freewheeling two-day saga with clear consciences, as they look out over a New York that may have no place for the likes of them, but they are hardly impressed by it, either. Nothing matters beside the occasional joint, trading platonically playful insults and expressing themselves on the nearest wall. However, when their latest graffiti masterpiece is vandalised by members of the Woodside King Crew from Queens, Hickson and Washington vow to exact their revenge. Aware that their rivals are big fans of the New York Mets baseball team, they decide to tag the giant plastic apple that appears whenever they score a home run. No one has achieved this feat for over 20 years. But, in order to get into Shea Stadium (Washington refuses to use its sponsored name, Citi Field, because of its banking connotations), they will have to raise $500 to bribe the security guard.

Without a bean to call their own, the pair know that bombing the apple won't be easy. But Hickson steals five bags of weed from his dealer friend Adam Metzger and heads into Manhattan to sell them to spoilt white girl, Zoe Lescaze. She flirts with Hickson and he is instantly smitten. However, he also notices that the apartment is filled with pocketable treasures and he particularly notes the key to a jewellery box that could fund their entire operation. But he is chased away when Metzger's boss Sam Soghor shows up and he has to flee without his payment for the dope and his sneakers.

Ironically, Washington has a client debt paid with a pair of sneakers. But, as she returns to the street, she finds that her bike has been stolen and has to chase after the thieves. She catches one and takes his mobile phone in retribution. However, she is tricked out of pawning this at the convenience store and, even though she manages to sell the shoes and some knocked off spray cans, she is robbed by the WKC thugs who have been following her around. And, to compound the felony, they even tag her t-shirt.

Meanwhile, the bare-footed Hickson has ventured back to Lescaze's place and is disappointed by her attitude when she introduces him to her friends as the drug boy. Any scruples he might have had about stealing from her vanish in a trice, but he only manages to get his hands on the key to the jewellery box before making himself scarce. Reuniting with Washington, he goes to find Meeko Gattuso, a heavily tattooed thief who readily agrees to break into the apartment. However, he talks a better game than he plays and the heist is bungled and they leave without pinching a single thing. Next morning, therefore, Hickson and Washington decide to pack the wad of notes for the security guard with pieces of cut newspaper. However, he fails to show up for their assignation and they are left crushed and without a plan for the day.

Superbly played by the eager, but naive Hickson and the world-weary, but genial Washington, this is an absolute delight. In classic Hitchcockian mode, the central plot to bomb the apple is little more than a macguffin designed to set the train of amusingly slackerish events in motion. But, even though the ensuing incidents are hardly earth-shattering, Leon and his wonderfully natural leads make us care what happens to them.

Inevitably, the screenplay doesn't entirely avoid clichés and the odd caricature and this is bound to lead to similar accusations to the ones that Benh Zeitlin.endured about Beasts of the Southern Wild being a patronising white outsider's view. But there is never anything generic or condescending about action nimbly shot in long takes that are all the more audacious and accomplished given that the budget only ran to $200,000. Moreover, this distinctiveness is reinforced by Nicholas Britell's deliciously eclectic soundtrack, which eschews the rap that is de rigueur for most African-American pictures (even though the title is taken from a Notorious B.I.G. tune) and slips effortlessly between gospel, jazz, 1960s R&B and bluegrass before culminating triumphantly with Marion Williams's version of Bob Dylan's `I Shall Be Released'.

Even more quirky and equally inspired in its use of music is Don Hertzfeldt's highly distinctive animation, It's Such a Beautiful Day, which is exclusively playing at The ICA on The Mall in London. Since capturing the imagination with his Oscar-nominated short, Rejected (2000), and reinforcing his reputation for graphic simplicity and tonal absurdity with the staggeringly ambitious potted history of human evolution, The Meaning of Life (2005), Hertzfeldt has been touring the United States with the continuing misadventures of a stick man named Bill. Now, the shorts Everything Will Be Okay (2006), I Am So Proud of You (2008) and It's Such a Beautiful Day (2011) have been given simple numerical chapter headings within this feature-length amalgamation, which succeeds in being simultaneously artistically naive and intricate, thematically frivolous and profound, and alternately hilarious and poignant.

Following a shot of clouds rolling over a bush blowing gently in the breeze, Chapter One opens with Bill walking along in his telltale hat. He is shown in a pool of light against a pitch black background and all other characters occupy their own spotlights, including the man he is approaching whose name he has forgotten. The pair are too embarrassed to chat idly and walk on, with our narrator (the deadpan Hertzfeldt) informing us that they never met again. Bill's outing scarcely improves at the local supermarket, where he is appalled by the produce being stored at groin height and finds the customers eccentric and the staff impertinent. But, as he arrives home and fumbles with his keys, Bill becomes concerned that much of life is taken up with daily rituals that leave little time for proper living.

That night, he dreams of a fish eating his head and wakes to be disturbed by the picture of a giant manatee on his calendar. Having eaten an entire box of crackers while watching boxing on a Mexican TV channel, he calls his ex-girlfriend and has to correct her when she claims to have seen a film about a preying manatee destroying a town. Next day, he notices three dead horses in the street on his way to lunching in the park with his ex. They discuss death and she is disturbed by his ambition to have his head sent into space.

Bill is suffering from a brain affliction that has his doctor baffled. He dreams about the brains he saw in jars in school laboratories and wonders if people are little more than brains trapped inside inadequate bodies that get stuck in traffic jams and have to listen to bad music. His neighbour describes a dream in which his toes fell off before Bill watches a documentary about a prehistoric man being thawed from the ice in Italy and wonders whether he could have anticipated such an undignified fate as being prodded by scientists. That night, Bill dreams about tossing corpses off a boat at sea and has an unfortunate encounter in the park with a boy with a deformed foot selling magazine subscriptions.

He begins to find it more difficult to understand people and he is beset with loud noises when the doctor tries to explain his symptoms. Confused by the flashing colours and clashing sounds, he dreams that his teeth are falling out and convinces himself that everyone in the supermarket is somehow exceedingly sinister and intent on tormenting him. Back home, he finds a pair of Lion King slippers and has no idea where they came from. The next time he goes out, he thinks he can read the waitress's thoughts and is bothered by the birds checking their messages on their mobile phones.

Everything is starting to overpower Bill and his spotlight cocoon is surrounded by violent images and flames instead of the reassuring nothingness. Snow seems to swirl in the night sky and raindrops trickle down a window pane. His mother comes from Omaha to look after him, but she crumples to the floor when he thinks she is about to attack him with scissors when she is actually trying to cut a loose thread. The shock lands Bill in hospital and, as he is hooked up to an IV drip, the screen fills with pulsating cells in vibrant hues. He dreams his head is floating loose in space and his uncle flies in from Tulsa, although Bill barely notices he is in the room. Fortunately, however, the doctor decides Bill isn't going to die and his mother has a devil of a time returning the unwanted coffin. On the way back to work, it starts to rain and Bill stares out of the window with a blank expression and no idea whether he is cured or just reprieved.

Chapter Two starts with shots of waves crashing on rocks and Bill thinks back to how his half-brother Randall (who had hooks for arms) was lost at sea when he ran after a low-flying gull. His mother fussed over him after this incident and made him wear a heavy coat to stop him contracting `walking pneumonia'. On his sixth birthday, she gave him a postage stamp, a piece of yarn and a five-minute hug. But she also threw meat at his stepfather during an argument and he walked out on them. Yet, while she was heartbroken, Bill's mother always put an encouraging note in his lunchbox.

A year had passed since his first diagnosis and his hair had started to grow back. He had to keep doing memory tests before his appointments and couldn't always remember where he had put them. However, his girlfriend had dumped him and Bill increasingly started to spend his days mooching around and his nights struggling to sleep. Even the sight of a man with a leaf blower at the bus stop had limited appeal and his mind eventually strays back to when his grandma used to stay. She imagined she could throw the toddler Bill into the fire or through a window. But she wasn't quite all there and started rubbing herself with a cat head she had found in a drawer. It was discovered she was suffering from dementia and, while Bill had no idea what that was, he knew a lot about his family tree.

Grandma's father was from Wyoming and he had once strangled a rock in a fit of religious excitement. He was a quiet, unassuming man, who was walking along eating an onion one day when he was cut in half by a passing train. Grandma's older brother was a preacher, but he smothered his illegitimate child in the barn and was later plagued by firebugs before also being killed by a train. Her sister Polly beat imaginary animals with a hammer before she contracted yellow fever and spontaneously combusted. Their mother cut out her tongue in despair and began gobbling prescription drugs. These were dark days and a maniac ran out of the brush to beat the church organist with a shovel. He turned out to be grandma's lost great uncle, who had been abandoned as a wild child and could now only say the word `bible'. Worn down by calamity, grandma relocated to the city, where she made a living making jam and persecuting Jews before dying alone surrounded by phantoms.

Bill dreams he is a child playing football on a beach with a sea lion, who kicks the ball so hard it knocks out a boy in a neighbouring field. He has slept awkwardly on his arm and his left testicle aches for no reason at the bus stop. At work, he makes a pyramid out of three staplers and watches as the new guy is rushed out in a wheelchair after swallowing a paper clip. Another workmate tells him about a programme he saw about separated twins who became serial killers, while lunchtime is spent discussing how life is little more than a short journey through a fixed history we can do nothing to change.

Arriving home, Bill is disconcerted by a new brand of kitchen roll. But he gets an even greater shock when he plays back his phone messages to learn that his mother has passed away from a fit and being hit by a train. She had always wanted to be buried between her parents, but a clerical error led to her being interred 50 feet away between a box full of rocks and a rich woman's Golden Retriever. After the funeral, Bill went through a box of mementoes and was puzzled by the pictures of bacon alongside the family portraits in a photo album. He deeply regrets that the happy, hopeful child he sees in the snaps turns out to have become him and his mood is scarcely improved when he finds a letter from a doctor to his mother urging her never to have a child.

While waiting at the bus stop, Bill's head floats into space like a balloon on a string. He is troubled by thoughts of death and the fact that he now has to look backward rather than forward. Moreover, he increasingly finds himself surrounded by people he doesn't recognise and he imagines himself on his deathbed wishing he hadn't wasted so much time fretting about dying or why he put a wall clock in such an inaccessible place in the kitchen. Bill wants to make toast, but he has forgotten how. Yet the doctor insists he is improving and he heads toward a lunch date with his ex with a spring in his step. But the frame suddenly fills with throbbing colours and Bill recalls being born into a world of reds and oranges.

Everything he had liked as a boy flashes through his mind and he remembers all the wonderful things he was going to do with his life. Instead, he can hear the voices of the medical staff urging him to hang on and he vaguely recalls speaking to his ex, hearing the flap of bird wings and savouring the smell of black liquorice. He wakes in a ward shared with a man called Matthew, who has an electro-vocal device to call the nurses, but only ever uses it to register pain. Bill watches the janitor flush birds nests out of the guttering of the building opposite and notices the flecks of dust in the sunlight. His ex comes to eat choc ices with him and Bill feels happier than he has done in ages.

Such contentment proves fleeting, however, as Chapter Three commences with Bill's memory blurring during tests involving objects and persons he is supposed to recognise. He even forgets his ex's name and becomes certain he has a trout living in his head. As he lies in bed, the photo-realist images contained in bubbles above his head become ever-more confusing and he starts to believe his past is slipping out of his skull. More tests are performed to examine the two sides of his brain and he is befuddled by the overlapping audiovisual information bombarding him.

His ex makes things worse by bringing her new boyfriend, Steve, to visiting time and he is so disturbed by what he sees that he refuses to come back the following day. Bill is sure his mind is filling with false memories to fill the void left by the forgotten ones and he dreams he is in a rocket about to re-enter the Earth's atmosphere and needs to eat ice cream to stop himself from suffering a seizure. All he can recall from the next batch of tests are images of a seahorse and a falling tree. His uncle opines from the window that it's a shame we always leave it too late to tell the people we love most how we feel. But he has little else to offer and Bill is relieved when he is allowed to go home and await his results.

As it's a nice day, he goes for a walk around the block. He notices a woman's tennis shoe filled with leaves and is filled with a sadness he cannot explain. Strolling on, he passes the bridge and the farmers' market and arrives home to notice what a nice day it is and he repeats precisely the same movements and thinks identical thoughts. Hertzfeldt cuts away before Bill embarks upon a third circuit and rejoins him as he starts dropping things with his left hand and wondering why he has acquired so much grocery shopping. He is also curious why there is a message from a doctor on his phone and is stricken to learn that he does not have long left to live.

Yet, rather than slumping into a trough, Bill repeats his usual walk and the neutral background disappears and he finds himself in a world of reality. Everything looks new, as though he has awoken from slumber and, for the first time in ages, Bill feels excited to be alive. He wishes he had paid more attention to his surroundings, however, and wants to shout out to everyone he sees to realise how amazing the world is. He tries to absorb it all before it vanishes from his memory once more and hires a car to see more exceptional sights, like an old man (who borrows Bill's pencil making a payphone call to his daughter to say how much he loves her. Indeed, this scene seems to inspire Bill and, having stood on the edge of a cliff above a misty ocean that is illuminated by the headlamps of all the cars that have plunged into it, he checks out the address his uncle has given him and meets his birth father for the first and only time. Bill whispers he is forgiven and leaves.

He stands in a field and watches the grass murmur in the breeze rustling the treetops. It's such a beautiful day, he thinks to himself, why not die now? But Hertzfeldt closes by informing us that Bill is condemned to outlive us all. He will spend hundreds of years travelling the planet, learning languages and reading books. During this time, he will lose and find many loves and father scores of children, whose traces will all have been erased by the time human kind dies out and Bill is treated as a god by the Earth's new race of light beings. What's more, he will survive them, too, and long after the sun has burnt out, Bill will bestride the galaxies until time loses all meaning and all the lights are finally extinguished.

Considering the precision of the shifts between the comic and the affecting, the lysergic immortality denouement is a bit of a New Agey disappointment. Nevertheless, the intrusion of colour and hazy snippets of reality is deftly handled, although the method of using hand-drawn stick figures in masked off splotches of light has a more appealing purity that is better suited to the droll, Thurbersque humour of Hertzfeldt's darkly whimsical narration. The use of sound and classical music is also impressive, as is the way in which the vagarious incidents are stippled with thoughtful ruminations on identity, family, physical and psychological frailty, natural beauty, isolation, the media and the meaning of life and death. But there is nothing pompous here, just throwaway lines that catch you unawares and keep you thinking long after Bill has wandered off towards his everlasting destiny.

Such audiovisual individuality only makes Sean McNamara's Cody the Robosapien seem more of a cookie-cutter kidpic than it already is. Co-produced by former Marvel CEO Avi Arad, who was responsible for bringing comic-book favourites like X-Men, Spider-Man and The Hulk to the big screen, this is another movie spun-off from a popular toy, in this case one marketed by the splendidly named WowWee Group. Judging by the online pictures of a toy that was designed by a robotics specialist at NASA, it doesn't even bear a passing resemblance to the cutely plucky hero created by the sizeable visual effects team. But this is very much to the film's advantage, as Cody (as voiced by Jae Head) is far more likely to connect with younger viewers than his rather fearsome plastic incarnation.

Everyone at Kinotech loves inventor David Eigenberg and his chirpy search and rescue robot, Robosapien. Admiral Peter Jason is clearly impressed by the demonstration staged for his benefit. But company boss Kim Coates is less than thrilled by the delays that protocol will impose upon the placement of an order. So, while Robosapien scoots around the facility chatting to his pals, Coates completes a $75 million deal with the scheming Joaquim de Almeida for 100 search and destroy bots, whose eyes glow angry red from deep within their sleek black outer casing, in contrast to the trusting blue and dependable white of Robosapien's eyes and bodywork.

Eigenberg is furious when he learns of the killer machines and Coates fires him when he refuses to co-operate. He also tries to confiscate Robosapien, but Eigenberg sneaks him out of the building and urges him to escape across the rooftops when corporate heavies show up at his New Orleans apartment. However, in making his getaway, Robosapien bumps his head and jolts his memory chip. Moreover, his tracker device breaks down and it is only by pure chance that he finds himself hiding in the same backstreet dumpster as tweenager Bobby Coleman, who is fleeing class bully Robbie E. Harrison after a contretemps during a science lesson.

Coleman lives with single mom Penelope Ann Miller and older sister Holliston Coleman in a picturesque house that needs a little TLC. However, Miller is always busy and her neglected daughter cruelly suggests that her preoccupation drove their father away. Content to be left to his own devices, Coleman smuggles the inert robot into his room and re-attaches its severed arm. He also tinkers with its circuits and renames it Cody and is thrilled by his new friend's energy and eagerness to learn. But he hides him away when Miller comes to investigate what all the noise is about and is filled with trepidation when Cody insists on accompanying him to school next day after spending the night being recharged by solar panels and surfing the Internet.

However, Cody proves to be a big hit when he escapes from Coleman's bag and starts answering questions in teacher Carol Sutton's class. He even does a breakdance routine that earns Coleman a smile from Erin Woods, the redhead he longs to take to the end-of-term dance. Cody offers to help in classic Cyrano de Bergerac style by hiding in a dustbin in the playground and feeding Coleman romantic lines through an earpiece. But the gambit backfires and Coleman is convinced that Woods thinks he's a dork. Nevertheless, he and Cody spend a fun afternoon together in a montage sequence that depicts them skateboarding and eating ice-cream.

Back home, Coleman realises that he cannot force a noisy perisher like Cody to stay quiet forever and introduces him to his mother and sister and is allowed to keep him after he reasons that no one else wants him because he had been thrown away. Cody helps his cause immeasurably by tidying up the garden and doing some DIY. He even customises a pink car for Holliston so she can take driving lessons. But, having beaten Harrison in a basketball challenge that gets the whole school cheering, Cody gets a kick to the head that resets his memory and he remembers Eigenberg and the danger he is in from Kinotech. He insists on going home and Coleman sobs in Miller's arms after saying goodbye.

But Cody also misses his buddy and Eigenberg comes to visit and makes an instant connection with Miller over some photograph albums. The kids go with Cody to the Mardi Gras and have to use the floats and marching bands to evade the gormless Billy Slaughter and the other more menacing Kinotech agents who have been scouring the city for Robosapien ever since he disappeared. Cody and Coleman get cornered in a courtyard, but lift off via a jet pack that the little robot didn't even know he possessed and they fly over the Mississippi before landing safely. But, on calling home, they discover that Coates has abducted Miller and Eigenberg encourages them to surrender. He is confident, however, that his invention has the skills to rescue them and, while Coates is busy showing off the black bots to De Almeida, Cody infiltrates the room where they are being held.

Coates suspected that Cody might try a rescue bid, however, and has him taken with Coleman and Eigenberg to watch the display. But the latter had given Cody instructions to sabotage the bad bots by playing Simon Says and leading them in a dance number before forcing them to search and destroy each other. Coates is powerless to protests, however, as Miller has contacted Admiral Jason, who arrives with reinforcements to save the day. But Cody is badly damaged in the affray and Eigenberg fears the worst as he attempts emergency surgery. What happens next will be familiar to anyone who has seen ET The Extraterrestrial (1982), only Cody and Coleman get to remain best friends. Moreover, Miller and Eigenberg become an item and Coleman and Woods hook up at the school dance. But Cody steals the limelight by busting some moves in a feel-good finale that grates horribly in its effort to show just how happy the ending is and how much of a good time everybody is having.

In many ways, this feels closer to a European-style kidpic than the standard Hollywood fare. The emphasis on friendship across difference is a pet theme for Dutch, German and Scandinavian film-makers, as is the coming of age element and finding a new love for a single parent. But there is something gauchely American about McNamara and screenwriter Max Botkin's determined depiction of Cody and Coleman enjoying themselves and this insistence that the audience shares the fun will infuriate many an onlooking adult. The montages and dance spots are particularly grim in their focus group conception of juvenile high jinx. But, this is slickly assembled and largely harmless fodder that would make a decent bank holiday treat for undemanding tweens.

Finally, this week, there is action of a more traditional kind, as Peter Chan pays tribute to the classic wu xia martial arts genre in Dragon. Aficionados will probably recognise the allusions to Chang Cheh's One-Armed Swordsman (1967). But there is also more than a hint of David Cronenberg's A History of Violence (2005) about Joyce Chan and Aubrey Lam's scenario, which relocates its core action to Yunnan Province in China in 1917.

Donnie Yen is a paper-maker in the remote Liu Village. He lives with wife Tang Wei, their son Li Jiamin and her son from a previous marriage, Zheng Wei. But, one day, their peaceful existence is shattered when a pair of bandits attempt to rob the local store and Yen not only protects the owners, but he also kills the intruders with what he insists were a few lucky strikes. Detective Takeshi Kaneshiro is far from convinced by Yen's protestations, however, as one of his victims, Yu Kang, is on the most wanted list and he watches Yen being feted by his neighbours with deep suspicion. Consequently, he applies his famous forensic skills to the crime scene and quickly deduces that Kang's injuries were caused by precise rather than fortuitous blows. Moreover, further investigation reveals Yet to have been outlaw Jimmy Wang's second in command in the notorious 72 Demons, a vicious Tangut gang that had murdered a butcher and his family in Jingzhou a decade earlier.

But, while Kaneshiro is keen to arrest Yen, magistrate Wang Chun-Yuan is reluctant to enforce the warrant until his palm has been crossed with silver. Kaneshiro is forced to borrow the money from estranged wife Li Xiaoran, who blames her husband for the fact that her father committed suicide. However, no sooner has he paid the bribe than the corrupt magistrate contacts Wang and informs him that his fugitive gang member is hiding in the village under an assumed name. But he is swiftly dispatched after learning from Wang that Yen is his son and that he intends teaching him a brutal lesson for his treachery.

Despite trying to remain incognito, Yen is forced to defend himself against Wang's pitiless bride, Kara Hui, who perishes after being trampled by buffalo and plunging into the river. Yen risks his own life in trying to save Hui, but the villagers are now terrified and hide in their citadel, leaving Yen and Kaneshiro to face the 72 Demons alone. Kaneshiro suggests that Yen feigns death so that Wang will leave him alone. However, he comes to at the wrong moment and is forced to cut off his left arm as a symbolic gesture that he is severing all links to his past.

Wang remains determined to exact his revenge and takes Tang and her boys hostage. He offers to release Tang and Zheng if Yen spills Li's blood and delights in using his qigong skills to evade Yen's broadsword swipes. But Kaneshiro has crept into the house unobserved and stabs Wang in the heel with an acupuncture needle. At first, he seems not to notice, but is so taken aback when he does that Kaneshiro is able to pounce and drive another needle through his neck. Outraged, Wang mortally wounds the detective. But, as he turns to finish off Yen, a lightning bolt rips through the sky and makes an electrical connection with the metal piercing his body and he is frazzled in an instant. With his last breath, Kaneshiro closes the case and Yen is free to resume his tranquil life, albeit with only one arm. 

Although the fight sequences choreographed by Donnie Yen are suitably kinetic (and make much less use of CGI and wires than so many recent martial arts films), what most fascinates here is the noirish mood than Chan engenders with cinematographers Jake Pollock and Yiu-Fai Lai and production designers Li Suri and Yee Chung-man, while screenwriters .Joyce Chan and Aubrey Lam place as much emphasis on character traits than plot twists in teasing out their yarn. The script also makes adroit use of traditional Chinese philosophies and medical practices, hence Variety critic Justin Chang very amusingly rebranding the picture, CSI Yunnan.

On the debit side, however, the post-revolutionary setting rather lacks socio-political conviction and Yen never really seems likely to be bested by either his erstwhile gangmates, his stepmother or his estranged father. But the performances are splendid, with Yen and Kaneshiro archly playing civilised mind games with one another and veteran Jimmy Wang (who essayed the eponymous hero in One-Armed Swordsman) revelling in his villainy. The wu xia style may have lost the rough-edge charm of the Shaw Brothers and Golden Harvest heyday and Chan is guilty of indulging in the odd flourish here, while editor Derek Hui occasionally overdoes the flash cutting. But this is gritty and pugnacious fare that is content to pay homage to the past rather than cheekily pastiche it.