You would be forgiven for thinking that there are just two camps of British filmmaking: the Guy Ritchie ‘fack-em-up’ gangster flicks and the lovey-dovey oh so genteel and charming Richard Curtis / Hugh Grant efforts. Others do exist (everyone go and watch Shane Meadows’ films now or Chris Morris’ Four Lions) but Wild Target falls somewhere between the two staples.

Lead Emily Blunt plays the conning art thief Rose, whose charm melts the heart of the near-autistic hitman Victor Maynard (played by an austere Bill Nighy). This melting leads to Maynard having a price on his head and so the caper begins, but not before young Rupert Grint, aka Ron from Harry Potter, gets involved after sparking up a joint a car park at the wrong place and the wrong time.

The casting crew hit the nail on the head with Blunt. She is hot Hollywood property and has an on-screen charisma that makes girls want to be her and men want to take her out (not in a hitman way).

Rose is a slinky, stylish and headstrong character with a graceful comedic confidence that harks back to the likes of Katherine Hepburn or the stars of Ealing comedies, especially when we’re introduced to her ways on a stroll through a market where she takes everything she wants without missing a step. This lead is refreshing enough alone and makes for a far more interesting character to spend 90 minutes than the currently in-vogue female main characters which are either sex-obsessed morons or po-faced brooding killers. Grint too flexes his comedy muscles to good effect, providing the comic relief when things get heavy.

There are some clunky moments in the second, including a baffling encounter between Maynard and Weasley (sic) in the bath, but these moments are short and easy to overlook.

Essentially a knock-about romp, this remake of French film Cible émouvante is bolstered by some solid performances and well executed sequences that add a nice flair to the proceedings. Surrounded by the summer’s boundary-pushing films Toy Story 3 and Inception, Wild Target isn’t a cinematic masterpiece but it is a lot of fun and a nice escape in the company of compelling characters set against an attractive London and home counties backdrop.

Directed by Jonathan Lynn

To begin with and in brief, the remix album is an eclectic mix of HEALTH noise, fiddled with by an impressive list of underground artists. Despite being a continuous mix, it feels like an album full of singles. All songs but one originate from the band’s debut, Get Color, and are then put through the wires of machines owned by such names as Crystal Castles, Tobacco, CFCF, Little Loud, Gold Panda, Pictureplane and more. With such a repertoire comes such a grand diversity of sound and style. To list things again – you’ve got ambient, noise rock, electro reggae, pure dance and almost everything in between. Despite the difference in tracks, they are all still HEALTH songs, thanks to their characteristically amateur yet cathedral reverb style vocals which have been honed to a softer, gentler tone – as soft as you could ever muster from a bunch of USA boys. Speaking of which, the one track that isn’t from their previous album, ‘USA Boys’, is one of the freshest electro songs I’ve come by in a while. I say that, yet I then listen to ‘Die Slow (Tobacco Rmx)’ which filled me up with as much good time vibe as a good time boy could ever ask for.
One more recommendation for my pennies worth? ‘Nice Girls (Little Loud Rmx)’ – a soft Buddha bar-style joint complete with retro synths and claps. If you don’t know HEALTH then god save you, but they are a noise rock band from L.A. and they are bloody brilliant.

-Alex Lendum

The US outfit’s other specialties include tinny jangles and raw rhythms, peppered with sunkissed Californian harmonies. ‘Take on the World’ is delightfully lo-fi and thrashes around in a raucous fashion that feels like youth and life captured in a three minute-din, while ‘Post Acid’ starts off punky and then pulls open the curtains to dazzle with a massive pop chorus. Things can get a bit slacker and plaid at times but in the mix of part beach bum, part Beach Boys, Wavves rarely step off the mark, keeping the winning formula ticking over. The smattering of spaced out psychedelia and good old fashioned self doubt all add up to one fresh sounding record that’s full of life and sounds as scrappy and inspired as a young band should be.

-Tom Cassidy

This album reveals it’s not a false alarm, the former next big thing who caused a stir a couple of years back with her blend of hard-edged urban pop has imploded under the weight of her own ego. It’s a baffling record with teenage conspiracy theory nonsense spurting within the first 10 seconds: ‘Hand bone connects to the Internet / Connected to the Google / Connected to the government,” and on and on, always ‘the Google’ and the government. …really, M.I.A.? Really? From there we move onto ‘Steppin Up’, a song led by piercing samples of drills. Hong Kong residents will know that the last thing you ever want to hear is drills, after suffering brain-shaking apartment renovations across the corridor. Coupled with the inane lyrics (“You know who I am / I run this fucking club / rub a dub a dub a dub…” – I’m not joking) it’s just appalling. The one radio-friendly track on the album, ‘Xxxo’, has a nice hook that pricks up your ears every 30 seconds or so but the deadpan bragging and generic synths make it feel out of place and wasted here – it would genuinely be better suited to the Britneys or Christinas of the world. There are all sorts of sounds thrown around throughout the album and no cohesion, thanks to the number of producers trying to cobble something listenable together (even Sleigh Bells main man Derek Miller can’t squeeze excitement out of her). It’s also hard to be convinced by someone whose delivery has the constant subtext of “whatever,” while throwing around tired and pointless references to Obama, the Taliban, bombs, oppression – essentially all the things that first year uni students who adore chief graffiti prick Banksy bang on about.

So what happened to this next big thing? She played up to her digital age cod political persona and forgot about making good music. Monotone and charmless, M.I.A. has mumbled herself into irrelevance.

-Tom Cassidy

-TC

Had Justice’s 2007 album Cross not been so good, no one would remember the then 19 year old Uffie who contributed sassy vocals to ‘Tthhee Ppaarrttyy’. Luckily it’s been on heavy rotation since its release and the Uffie flame’s kept on burning. Three years in the making, Sex Dreams and Denim Jeans is finally here, thanks to a bank of cutting edge French producers.

Like the Justice track, it’s vocoder-heavy but she also unmasks her vocals for a good portion of the record, revealing more of herself. The music’s generally inspired and the album as a whole is essentially bubble-gum pop with a solid streak of attitude and a whole lot of fun. ‘Neuneu’ plays into the fun aspect perfectly with a backing thatwouldn’t be out of place opening a lighthearted ‘70s cop show and ‘Hong Kong Garden’ is a nice homage to her upbringing here in HK. Only once does it fall really flat on its face and that’s ‘ADD SUV’, featuring the now irrelevant Pharrell Williams. She’s best off with the French pioneers, the US former rap stars are void.

-TC

Opener ‘Crimson’ has a mesmerising chorus that is worthy of repeat listens; the title track is a melodic treat fit for cruising through a dusky* Mexico (or any long drive out of our city) and ‘Mandala’ really gets you in the mood for ditching the car for horseback as it gently canters through the plains. In fact, as the albums goes on, you start to embark on a dreamy spaghetti western story of love, lust and the internal search, only to open your eyes to discover you’ve just had a very pleasant nap. Lovely.

-AL

Former Razorlight drummer Andy Burrows’ stickmanship adds a real punch and spontaneity to the solid bed of Chris Cain’s satisfying rumbling bass and Keith Murray’s inspired guitar playing. 2008‘s Brain Thrust Mastery layered synths on heavy but this record takes a stripped down approach; they’ve always been an explosive three-piece and Barbara’s raw live sound gets that across perfectly. In a genre so often middling and unoriginal, WAS stand head and shoulders above the rest by constantly making it work. They also once made me stage a knife fight. True story.

-TC

If you’re in the mood for some electro-house whilst you’re pottering about or any other less taxing activity, pop this on and contently enjoy. Oh, don’t bother searching for reason behind the interestingly named tracks. We guess it’s just one of those cases where you can have fun with a name without relating it to anything. Why the hell not?

-AL

The ArchAndroid is a concept album. A single story connects the album’s 18 tracks, creating a complete and rich musical narrative with perfect pacing so never feels like it dips. The songs are succinct and the album has no interludes or fillers just for the sake of it; each song is crafted to help progress the story. The genres on show come together so wonderfully, ranging from classical, ‘60s R&B and pop to James Brown inspired funk. Her hit single ‘Tightrope’, although fabulously crafted, doesn’t give an idea of what this piece of work is about. ‘Dance Or Die’ and ‘Faster’ will get your feet moving while the more relaxed tunes ‘Oh, Maker’ and ‘Neon Street Valley(MY JAM)’ slow things down without losing steam or its flare. For this to be her major label debut, she has achieved in one release what artists haven’t been able to accomplish their whole careers. Monáe simply deserves to be heard and appreciated. Creatively, pop superstars of today like Beyonce and Lady Gaga don’t hold a candle to what Monáe has done here. She’s bold, fierce, inspiring and so much more.

-HM