She's Out Of My League

Those going into She's Out Of My League expecting another tiresome Hangover style comedy will either be disappointed or pleasantly surprised by the result. By keeping the gross out gags to a minimum and focusing on a more innocent, old fashioned notion of romance, League turns out to be a sweet-natured joy.



Rising star Jay Baruchel (voice of Hiccup in How to Train Your Dragon) is airport security worker Kirk. Blessed (or cursed) in typical romantic comedy fashion with three friends/muses who are helping to see him through a recent break-up, the self-deprecating skinny loser, a solid '5' on the attractiveness scale, falls over heels for luminous event planner, Molly (Alice Eve). To his complete amazement, she reciprocates the attention in selfless fashion, and so begins a delightful attraction of opposites. But how long will it be before the relationship with the perfect '10' is derailed by Kirk's own neuroses?



From the moment that the ravishing Eve breezes through the airport, leaving a stream of slack-jawed luddites in her wake, to the heartening notion that a girl as attractive and intelligent as her would find unlikely love in a guy like Kirk, League exerts a beguiling charm. It has one eye on the innate pitfalls of all fairy tale relationships, ensuring a somewhat tense edge to a romance that seems to be in full bloom, and the other on the archetypal formula (wacky family; bromance; the ex and the parents). Thankfully, it focuses mainly on the former, meaning the mix is more honest than smug.



And the two lead performances are a delight, Baruchel walking just the right side of weedy and whingy, and Eve, a stunning blonde bombshell with brains to match. As good as they are however, the show is virtually stolen from under their noses by the wonderful T.J Miller (Cloverfield) as Kirk's know-all best mate, Stainer, harbouring serious personal baggage, but never afraid of offering sage advice of his own. Krysten Ritter's caustic Patty, Molly's best friend, also steals her fair share of show-stopping bombs.



In the end, the film wins by virtue of its big heart and life-affirming outlook. It avoids the yuck factor (mostly - premature ejaculation and a macho Brazilian job interlude offer painful asides) in favour of supporting the layman, the '5' who, it seems, is perfectly capable of scoring the girl of his dreams. It may veer more towards farce in the conventional 'chase through an airport' climax but that's a small misstep for a comedy this breezy, refreshing and witty.

How to Train Your Dragon

In truth, everyone has probably harboured a fascination with dragons from a young age. Away from the televisual domain of fire-breathing Anne Robinson, the savage grace and primordial beauty of these mythical creatures has nevertheless had a spotty translation to the screen, with both Reign of Fire and Dragonheart being recent, sputtering failures.



How to Train Your Dragon is a very different beast, in every sense of the word: shrewd, smart, exciting, muscular and witty, it's inarguably one of the best CGI kids flicks ever made, fusing potent mythology with a modern kind of American pop cynicism that works blindingly well. It revels in a fantasy world that is both distant and yet populated with sharply drawn, identifiable characters, winningly voiced. Although not as funny as Shrek, the period setting precludes any of the product placements that have bogged that franchise down in favour of a more strongly bolstered narrative.



Central to the piece is Jay Baruchel's Hiccup, winsome, skinny loser son to chest-beating Stoic (Gerard Butler, for once finding a perfect outlet for his machismo). Native of the Viking settlement of Berk which has long been terrorised by the fiery types, most of the locals are up in arms, but Hiccup, in typical loner fashion, forms a strong friendship with a dragon he blew out of the sky, whom he names Toothless. But how long is it before the village interprets his increased understanding of the creatures for heroism in the training ring, where he is pitted, rites of passage style, against the beasties with a further assortment of misfit heroes? And how long before Toothless himself is discovered?



The stage is set for a beautifully moral story where the moral, as with all the great animated features, is deftly hidden behind an energetic, colourful exterior, one that delightfully upends both scale in the oversized, overbearing vikings, and the quirky dragons themselves, some of whom boast two heads, others of which are fat and deceptively cute. Full of a surprisingly aggressive sound design (that will likely both thrill and terrify younger viewers), the effect, bizarrely, results in a far more engagingly entertaining experience than the live action Clash of the Titans, especially in a climactic battle sequence that is the equal of anything produced in the live action arena recently. The thoroughly modern voice-cast also works surprisingly well, from America Ferrara's tough heroine Astrid to Jonah Hill's oafish Snotlout, grounding the fantasy in hip 90210 territory while never becoming too cynical for its own good.



In truth, the entire soul of Titans could be captured on the back of a stamp; Dragon not only soars in its astonishing flying sequences (bolstered by John Powell's wonderful Celtic-influenced, score) but it takes one's spirit out into the ether long after the credits have rolled. It's a cautionary tale of prejudice, a tale of father-son relationships, of the wonderful hinterland between fantasy and reality, one that completely transcends even the clunky earthbound gimmick of 3D (should you see it in such a fashion) to evoke grins of joy and tears behind the glasses.