WORDS COMPILED BY SARAH LENNON GALAVAN

The Bling Ring (dir. Sofia Coppola)

Inspired by the the infamous “Bling Ring” robberies, Sofia Coppola’s film falls short in its attempt to explore the influence of fame, celebrity and trash culture in society. Although Coppola refrains from moralising, her inability to provide real, hard-hitting social commentary and her half-hearted attempt at satire results in the film’s protagonists becoming mere receptacles of shallowness and narcissism.

Coppola fails to comprehend the transient nature of popular culture and the infamous “fifteen minutes of fame”, an element of the film that detracts from its overall purpose. Set in modern day, the film charts the gang’s robbery of celebrities’ houses — celebrities such as Paris Hilton and Audrina Patridge, who in 2008 were well enmeshed within the fabric of fame. However, by 2013 they have become irrelevant to such an extent, that Paris Hilton’s appearance in the film itself barely raises eyebrows, let alone excitement. The post-modern feel of the cinematography, its preference for style over substance emphasises both the character of the suspects and also the absence of gravitas in the film — it’s all bling and no bite. Ciara Forristal

Warm Bodies (dir. Jonathan Levine)

Ever since Twilight graced our screens the character of a sullen, misunderstood outcast and her broody, paranormal male counterpart, have become archetypes which directors and writers have followed in a bid to ensure success. One such attempt has been Jonathan Levine’s “zomromcom” Warm Bodies in which R (Nicholas Hoult), a zombie, capable of internal and seemingly thought-provoking dialogue, becomes enamored with Julie (Teresa Palmer), daughter of the head of the militia (John Malkovich) whose sole ambition is the extermination of the zombie race. The references to Shakespeare’s “star-crossed lovers” are obvious, yet the inception and consequent development of their romance is more “yawn”- than “awe”-inspiring. Palmer’s Julie, is not as tenacious as her literary counterpart and instead embarks on a vamped up Kristen Stewart impersonation which, unsurprisingly, leaves her appearing as comatosed as the zombies she was sent to kill. Although Levin sets up a unique meet-cute as the zombie and zombie hunter face off, it is not clear if Julie is just seen as an appetiser for a ravenous R. Audiences can be left wondering if R’s affections are merely the consequence of R’s devouring of Julie’s boyfriend’s brain and the memories that R absorbs. Ciara Forristal

Now You See Me (dir. Louis Leterrier)

The success, both critical and commercial, of original, big-budget productions over the past couple of years, most notably Gravity, seems to have bestowed upon Hollywood studios a vote of confidence in their ability to produce inventive, entertaining cinema. On the other side of that we have Now You See Me, a sign of Hollywood’s utter incapacity to expand upon interesting ideas without the standard addition of 500,000 plot twists and a tawdry, bland script. This is a film which undoubtedly tries to outsmart its audience and, in all honesty, its attempts are about as fruitful as a game of scrabble on Geordie Shore. Despite being wrapped up in themes of magic and illusion, NYSM is so CGI-ridden that its initial effects become boring within the opening 10 minutes. On top of this, its characters are so poorly drawn you start to wonder whether its script was written by an 8-year-old, understandably, Michael Caine and Morgan Freeman look lost throughout. And it’s getting a sequel?! Without delving too deep into the myriad of magician-themed puns available, I will say this: You’ll wish you had been sawn in half. Brian Wade

The Great Gatsby (dir. Baz Luhrmann)

The Great Gatsby is such a sacred cow of American culture that it could be argued that no film adaption could ever get it right. Yet only Baz Luhrmann could get it this wrong. A brain-melting onslaught of garish colours, thundering sound effects and unnecessary 3-D, Luhrmann’s Gatsby wants desperately to capture the rollicking pace of the Jazz Age but ends up giving us the 20s as seen by someone about to collapse into a bathtub of antifreeze-laced moonshine.

Leonardo DiCaprio, looking oddly as if he’s been lacquered, does his best but he’s no Jay Gatsby. Like Robert Redford before him, the character’s subtle mixture of magnetic charm and crushing insecurity eludes him and he has none of Redford’s suavity to fall back on.  British pixie Carey Mulligan is utterly miscast as the spoilt heiress Daisy while Tobey Maguire’s Nick is a affectless nonentity. Whatsmore, Luhrmann’s inability to resist the draws of the camp mean that supposedly serious scenes quickly descend into melodrama, robbing the material of its emotional power. Luhrmann’s Libreance-esque aesthetic works best when it’s reined in. In Strictly Ballroom, it’s charming. In Romeo + Juliet, it’s tolerable. Here, it’s like being repeatedly hit over the head with a candelabra . Look at how pretty this is. THWACK. Sarah Lennon Galavan