Chances are that if you went to the cinema last year, you didn’t see something original. You saw a sequel. Admittedly, it was hard to avoid the second installment of The Hobbit or The Hunger Games, Anchorman 2, Iron Man 3, Thor 2, Despicable Me 2 or Fast and Furious 6 (that’s right, 6) amongst many, many others.

However, as infuriating as this onslaught of sequels can be, to repeat the age-old cinema-purist’s lament against such a glut of films followed by number two or three or six now seems pointless. The lack of original films last year is entirely understandable in terms of the simple economics of sequels. Of the ten highest grossing films of 2013, six were sequels or prequels. Iron Man 3 already has, and Despicable Me 2 soon will, pass that magical one billion dollar mark at the worldwide box office. It’s simple: sequels mean easy money (though I doubt even Universal Pictures executives can believe quite how successful Despicable Me has become).

With critics forever decrying the state of modern cinema, the question I’d pose is what exactly is wrong with sequels? If audiences enjoy them, and clearly the finances reflect that they do, where is the problem? The argument goes that money invested in sequels means less funding available for new, interesting, diverse films that expand the creative vision of Hollywood. After all, where would we be if Citizen Kane had been canned in favour of Dumbo 2? Spending money on existing franchises, just to bag easy ticket sales, won’t necessarily push the boundary of what film can achieve.

But it is a fundamentally snobbish argument, an argument which says cinema is the territory of ‘artists’ and ‘critics’ instead of people who just want to watch a decent movie. Who decides what is creatively significant or not? Few would argue for the high cinematic merit of Monsters University but if people enjoyed it then why should it matter if it is a sequel? 

Furthermore, to say our cinemas have become solely occupied by sequels and franchises isn’t just pessimistic and snobbish, it’s also not true. 2013 saw a number of fantastic original big screen outings. Gravity, hotly-tipped for Oscar success, was not only unlike anything we’ve ever seen before, it was the seventh highest grossing film, a sure sign that audiences will lap up new ideas as long as they are done well. The Wolf of Wall Street, an original Scorsese production starring the ever-bankable Leonardo DiCaprio, is another example of a captivating film that broke the string of summer blockbuster sequels.

What we should hope for now is that the success of original films like Gravity and The Wolf of Wall Street will give studios more confidence to move away from tried-and-tested formulas and venture into the creative unknown. While a reliance on sequels is nothing new in Hollywood, it is also evidently seen as a smart move a post-Credit Crunch mind-set of easy films for easy returns — bums in seats before novelty.

But the fact that the American box office enjoyed its most successful year ever last year, with revenues of £6.6 billion, surely now presents an ideal opportunity for something different to superhero sequels and animated follow-ups. 12 Years a Slave, a sure-fire Oscarwinner if ever there was one, and Christopher Nolan’s newest project Interstellar are hopeful hints that 2014 might be a year of genuine originality at your local Odeon.

But even if they’re the exception to the rule, even if it is a year dominated by franchises, and Captain America 2, The Expendables 3 and Paranormal Activity 5 are more representative of 2014’s film offering, so long as you enjoy them
then who cares? Despicable Me 2 was genuinely funny, Star Trek: Into Darkness was suitably shiny and even Fast and Furious 6 was… bright.

Ultimately, whether this year is a year of unbridled and unprecedented cinematic originality, or whether (more likely) it isn’t, sequels shouldn’t be derided as inherently destructive for Hollywood’s creativity; it’s just that seeing something a bit different a little more often would certainly not go amiss.

★★★★☆

Four Stars

Christian Bale’s orb-like belly and elaborate comb-over have become an iconic part of American Hustle. Bale’s commitment to modifying his body for screen rolesis well known and in this film he stands out in a story that places huge emphasis on the physicality of its characters. Through the eyes of Bale’s simian con-man Irving Rosenfeld, we watch an FBI operation to sting New Jersey’s benevolent mayor Carmine Polito (Jeremy Renner) veer from one disaster to another.

The film is studded with performances that remind us that we’re really watching a comedy. Bradley Cooper’s Richie DiMaso, the FBI agent who brings in Rosenfeld to take down Polito, is a character that gloriously pricks Hollywood’s ‘rookie’ cliché. His swaggering often tips into neurosis, joining Rosenfeld’s partner and mistress Sydney Prosser (Amy Adams) in a rollercoaster of building and spent tensions.

Jennifer Lawrence gives an Oscar-worthy performance as Irving’s wife Rosalyn, breathing new life into a potentially tired role as a con-man’s hair-in-rollers spouse. Roselyn’s conceit is a real strength of the film, and Lawrence drives it home with panache. Louis C.K. plays DiMaso’s befuddled mentor, and meetings between the two should be taken as lessons in deadpan.

American Hustle takes place in late ’70s New Jersey. It’s about con men, but devoid of any Oceans glamour and pumped full of the burger-vendor grime that defined the era. Depicting the 1970s can preoccupy directors telling a story set at that time: Tomas Alfredson claimed it was his mission to infuse the smell of damp tweed into Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy, set in Edward Heath’s Britain.

Tinker Tailor was almost too sweaty, though; there were only so many times I could watch Gary Oldman discuss national security through steamed-up glasses whilst sipping murky whiskies. Russell vividly paints us the garish, post-Vietnam Garden State, full of melting snow and faulty electrical goods.

Director David O. Russell subverts this genre well because his cast depict the stress of being on both sides of the law so vividly. It’s a subversion of the ‘American hustle’ genre that makes American Hustle, the film’s title, seems so deviously self-conscious after viewing — a successful comedy. Imagining how complex and stressful conning congressmen must be is funny, particularly when watching a film billed as a glitzy look at Carter-era fraudstering.

A recent Guardian article claimed that Sean Connery’s James Bond drank something like ninety units a day in From Russia with Love, but Russell might claim that you’d need at least that to get through the business of taking on the KGB. American Hustle should be commended for taking a step back to contemplate the paranoia, despair and monumental highs of being a con artist. This makes the film not only an effective satire of Catch Me If You Can and the like, but really any film featuring unrealistically smooth protagonists. Smooth is one thing the characters ain’t in this film, and quite rightly so.

The Curious Incident of the Apollo roof tumbling down at the end of December brought media attention to Marianne Elliot’s production of Mark Haddon’s best-seller for all the wrong reasons. Fortunate enough to experience this slick West-end production a week before the disaster, I was struck by the incredible attention to detail which saw the seats with prime numbers (the protagonist’s mathematical love) accentuated with white seat-covers and his outfits consistent with his colour preferences (red, never brown.) Shame, then, that the £1-a-head ‘restoration’ levy for the theatre was not put to better use.

 It is undoubtedly challenging to stage a novel which provides a touching insight into an autistic boy’s confusion as he investigates a murdered dog, but this production allows the audience to appreciate Christopher’s misunderstanding without losing sympathy. Tackled by Luke Treadaway, who never leaves the stage, with impressive stamina, the performance is convincing and the humour frequent.The decision to use Christopher’s teacher as the narrator verges on the patronising at times, although also allows the adaption to be pleasingly loyal to the novel.

From deafening white noise when characters accidentally touch Christopher, to coloured stage blocks which multi-role as ovens, seats and even suitcases, the technologies and staging used are bold and relentlessly different. Although regular black-outs and bright lights create the assault on the senses that the protagonist faces, some of these innovations feel dramatic for their own sake. This is a shame, when so much of the production is praiseworthy.

Nothing detracted from the phenomenal quality of acting. Christopher’s parents were particularly commendable, providing moving and believable portrayals of the frustrations and complications of raising any child. The supporting cast, too, were impressive, remaining anonymous when being props for Christopher but bursting into life during snippets of dialogue. Treadaway is a strong lead throughout, although seems to ease into the character more in the second half: by his triumphant final explanation of his A Level Maths question as an unconventional encore, Treadaway is positively vibrant.

Lucky enough to get 4 front row seats on the day for only £12 apiece, the experience was certainly excellent value for money. Largely deserving of its 7 Olivier Awards in 2013, including Best Play, this production is undoubtedly worth a visit. I hope to see the Apollo theatre reopening this month to continue to treat audiences to this hilarious yet poignant production.

Toby Huelin has genius hair and a musical laugh; deep, infectious, with an accompanying shoulder shake. Originally from the Isle of Jersey, Toby emmanates up-and-coming musician in his appearance. His pre-Oxford years were filled writing songs and incidental music for other theatre projects (including a rock opera version of Orwell’s Animal Farm) alongside musical directing and keyboard performances in various local theatre productions.

Now a third year music student at St Anne’s, Toby is best known around Oxford for co-writing A Theory of Justice: The Musical. The show centers around the philosopher John Rawls, who, during a search for writing material, journeys back in time to court Fairness, dodge Robert Nozick’s evil plans and converse with a canonical selection of philosophers from Plato to Mill. This production, which ostensibly presented philosophical theory in an accessible form was hugely successful in Oxford and at the Edinburgh Fringe last year. Its success has resulted in attention from acting troupes internationally who are interested in taking A Theory of Justice abroad.

Toby listens to “so much music” that his compositional pieces are an indistinguishable milieu of them all. He’s not fussy about genre and would be happy to spend his future career writing anything, as long as it’s “composition in some form”, from musical theatre to popsongs, or music for television or the concert hall. However, his favorite figures from musical theatre include Jason Robert Brown, Andrew Lloyd Webber (he’s a particular fan of Jesus Christ Superstar) and Richard Taylor to a range of modern music, One Direction included.

However, Toby mentions this “pop” taste features little in his new production. Putting aside his array of musical talent and interest, I sat down to delve into something more specific, Toby’s next theatrical project, In Her Eyes. Rather than building on the success of Theory of Justice, this new production is going in the opposite direction: “I love challenging myself to write something different”, Toby explains. In Her Eyes, or IHE, is a story about “Isolation and truth, rumors and gossip”. In terms of subject matter at least, IHE stands out from the current musical scene, as “not a “jazz-hands” musical” but something “much more thoughtprovoking”. Not your conventional musical,the composition of In Her Eyes followed on from a discussion with Huelin’s family about “a similar situation”. Written in just two weeks, Huelin composes ‘very intensely for a short period of time, rather than writing a little bit of music each day’.

I want to know if he he prioritises plot, lyrics or music. For In Her Eyes, Toby explains, “Lucy Fielding [his co-writer and girlfriend] and I figured out the plot together, and then I wrote both music and lyrics in tandem, rather than writing one then the other, which seems to be a more standard way of working. I always write on the computer with a piano nearby!” But it’s different everytime, Toby explains; he isn’t one of those writers with an established creative process. Oxford will host the second performance of IHE, which was originally performed last summer in Toby’s home town, Jersey. Nevertheless, Toby is looking forward to performing to a larger audience.

The plot of In Her Eyes is a modern love story that explores the destructive dynamics of obsessive love; Freddie, a seventeen year-old girl, falls for an older boy, Jamie. Jamie is never seen by the audience, which means we will have to glean his actions and characteristics from other characters’ reportage. This allows an intentional ambiguity within the script that, as Toby informs me, will allow us to form our own opinion of their relationship. Take one of your more laid-back friends along to see In Her Eyes with you, or be preparared for the heated debates that scuch a production must surely result in.

If you were interested in developing a taste in musical theatre, this term seems to be the term for it. Toby adds that Hilary 2014 “is very exciting for musical theatre in Oxford, with at least one show every fortnight. In Her Eyes is the first, and is something very different.” In Her Eyes will be performed at the Burton Taylor Studio in 2nd week at 9:30pm (running time 60 mins). Tickets are available from www. oxfordplayhouse.com or www.IHEmusical.com.

The Curious Incident of the Apollo roof tumbling down in December brought media attention to Marianne Elliot’s production of Mark Haddon’s best-seller, but for all the wrong reasons. Fortunate enough to experience this slick West-end production a week before the disaster, I was struck by the incredible attention to detail which saw the seats with prime numbers (the protagonist’s mathematical love) accentuated with white seat-covers. Shame, then, that the £1-a-head ‘restoration’ levy for the theatre was not put to better use.

It is undoubtedly challenging to stage a novel which provides a touching insight into an autistic boy’s confusion as he investigates a murdered dog, but this production allows the audience to appreciate Christopher’s misunderstanding with sympathy. Tackled by Luke Treadaway, who never leaves the stage in an impressive display of stamina, the performance is convincing and the humour frequent.

From deafening white noise when characters accidentally touch Christopher, to coloured stage blocks which function variously as ovens, seats and suitcases, the technologies and staging are bold and relentlessly different. Regular black-outs and bright lights recreate the assault on the senses that the protagonist faces, though some of these innovations feel dramatic for their own sake.

However, none of the pyrotechnics or potential gimmicks detracted from the phenomenal quality of acting. Christopher’s parents were commendable, providing moving portrayals of the frustrations and complications of raising any child, but in particular one with autism. The supporting cast were also impressive. Treadaway is a strong lead throughout, although eases into character more in the second half: by his triumphant explanation of a Maths question as an unconventional encore, Treadaway is positively vibrant. Deserving of its seven Olivier Awards, I hope to see the Apollo theatre reopening this month to continue this hilarious yet poignant production.