Casino Royale **** - I have yet to even bother seeing Die Another Day, so disappointed was I with the previous installment in the enduring Bond franchise. Happily, Casino Royale disproves my assumption that the series was on its last legs. Following the successful format of recent how-it-all-got-started superhero stories such as Batman Begins, Spider-Man and the small-screen Smallville is a great idea, even if it messes with the audience's perspective on Bond continuity. (And surely Bond is a superhero, of sorts.) The action is fantastic, the Bond girl is beautiful (and no caricature either) and if the film is a little over-long, with several false endings, it doesn't matter because it's constantly entertaining, as well as unexpectedly intelligent.
When The Wind Blows **** - A throroughly moving animation from Snowman creator Raymond Briggs, this stands beside Grave Of The Fireflies as a masterpiece in examining the effect of weapons of mass destruction on innocent civilians and, as such, is as bitterly relevant today as it was twenty years ago. Jim and Hilda Bloggs (apparently the same couple as in Briggs' graphic novella Gentleman Jim) are retired and living in a countryside idyll, during the last few days before the outbreak of nuclear war. Drawing on the only experience they remember of war - WWII - they follow governmental advice to the letter in preparing for the worst. Of course the advice is useless. The highly stylised scene in which the bomb actually drops is just as disturbing as it is in Threads, but the animation style in general is revolutionary, with 2D cell animation drawn on top of 3D model sets against watercolour backgrounds. This, along with Jim's frequent flights of fancy, lend the whole film a beautiful, slightly ethereal atmosphere that only makes the ending even more heartbreaking.
Changing Lanes *** - Do unto others... is the moral of this thriller in which a car accident precipitates a tit-for-tat exchange between two strangers that soon escalates into dangerous territory. It's an obvious message and the two leads are both quite unlikeable, but the execution is good enough to hold the attention.
Requiem For A Dream *** - Possibly conceived as an American Trainspotting, this lacks the humour and depth of the Edinburgh version. Clever tricks with camera and soundtrack isolate the audience from the characters' plight so that it's hard to find much sympathy for them.
American History X *** - A disturbing look at neo-Nazism is suburban America, this also suffers from having a cast of mostly unlikeable characters. Just as sympathy for reformed skinhead Ed Norton starts to build, we are presented with a timely flashback to remind ourselves just what a nasty piece of work he was. And while an explanation for his extremist views is eventually given, it doesn't redeem his behaviour in any way.
The Sum Of All Fears *** - A nuclear bomb may or may not have been smuggled onto US soil and it's up to rookie CIA agent Jack Ryan - previously portrayed on-screen by Alec Baldwin and Harrison Ford, but here played by Ben Affleck - to convince his seniors that it's not the Russians that are to blame. As such, it's a similar problem to that presented in Hunt For Red October, albeit with considerably more dire consequences if Ryan fails. It's tense enough but let down by some plot holes and the fact that it's hard to suspend disbelief.
The Virgin Suicides *** - Sofia Coppola's first film is an unusual romantic tragedy, that is intended to be as baffling for the audience as it is for the narrator. At its heart, a sort of love triangle between some boys in their early teens, the beautiful teenage sisters who live opposite, and the older kids from school who briefly attempt to break the sisters out of their parents' oppressive, religious upbringing, before the girls all simultaneously commit suicide. As such, it makes for thoroughly depressing viewing. It does, however, successfully capture just how hard being a teenager can be (or at least, seem): for the boys, their first crush and a loss of innocence; for the girls, a struggle for survival in a world that doesn't seem to fit them.
Superman Returns *** - Full of contradictions, the film is alternately earnest and humorous, slick and shoddy. Intended to be a direct follow-up to the Christopher Reeve films, but set in a recognisably twenty-first century Metropolis, somehow this fails to live up to the energy and excitement of at least the first two in that series, even with John Williams' original score being liberally deployed to keep things moving along. Kate Bosworth is beautiful but woefully miscast as Lois Lane, being too young and insufficiently world-weary to be a mother, let alone a Pulitzer-winning journalist.
The Living And The Dead *** - Simon Rumley's first theatrical feature since his Strong Language trilogy is a (possibly deliberately) frustrating experience. The idea is compelling: a disabled woman is left alone in a huge, rambling mansion with her mentally ill son who, soon enough, stops taking his medication and starts "caring for" his mother in a way that suggests that, following her death, he might well go a bit Norman Bates and continue "caring" for her. The cinematography is often remarkable, alternating between beautiful, almost serene visuals and manic, disturbing spasms of noise and movement. The ending is pleasantly ambiguous, too. But the sheer manic energy of the ill son is wearing from the start and played without subtlety. Like all of Rumley's films, this one has split audience reactions down the middle and it may require repeat viewing to tease out its highlights.
Monday, 1 January 2007
Friday, 1 December 2006
November film roundup
Passport To Pimlico *** - First of this month's triple-bill of classic Ealing comedies, this is a high-concept movie in which the London suburb of Pimlico declares itself to be an independent state. The situations start off funny (such as stopping Tube trains on the Victoria line for customs checks) but even across the slim running time the jokes start to wear thin.
Kind Hearts And Coronets **** - A wonderful and very funny piece of classic British cinema whose biggest achievement is encouraging complicity between the audience and the (at best, amoral) protagonist who seeks to murder his way to the inheritance he believes is rightfully his. Alec Guinness, as several members of the same dynasty, is exceptionally good. Thoroughly deserves its place on IMDb's Top 250.
The Ladykillers ** - This other well-known Ealing comedy starts promisingly, with a gang of thieves masquerading as unlikely concert musicians taking up residence in a boarding house with the intention of using their unwitting landlady in a daring million-pound heist. However, as the film descends into pure farce, the humour has dated less well and eventually becomes both tiresome and uncomfortable.
Borat: Cultural Learnings Of America For Make Benefit Glorious Nation Of Kazakhstan *** - There is little left to be said about this film which has been thoroughly examined, re-examined, praised and criticised. Yes, the film is in places extremely funny, but also makes for uncomfortable analysis. Is it highly offensive or good satire? Is it ever right to manipulate people into condemning themselves without giving them the right to explain themselves? This is an entry into a growing trend in television comedy in particular, in which ordinary citizens are humiliated in the name of entertainment. The two best things that can be said for Borat are that its performer is utterly fearless and that it is a masterpiece of editing. The worst thing that can be said is that it is highly dangerous.
Brick ** - This is explicitly a film noir, transplanted into a modern Californian high school, complete with analogues for all the standard cast of characters of a noir, from grizzled policeman to femme fatale. Some of the cast provide fantastic performances, but the film overall fails to compel, because of the sheer effort that it demands from its viewer: the dialogue is swift and idiomatic (and there is no subtitle track on the DVD) which means that the plot is often baffling rather than exciting. This is a real shame, because in mood it does successfully recall not only classic noir but also contemporary works such as David Lynch's Mulholland Dr., with its cool, mysterious atmospherics and lingering cinematography; but without the ability to draw the viewer into its highly artificial world, it cannot maintain its sense of intrigue.
Tsotsi *** - More or less a South African answer to City Of God, Tsotsi follows a thug from the Soweto township near Johannesburg as he steals a car from a rich neighbourhood, only to discover that he has accidentally kidnapped a baby as well. As the film meanders towards his possible redemption, it takes some time to ponder both what has changed since the days of apartheid when the novel was written (the baby belonged to rich black parents) and what has not (the crippling poverty and squalor for millions of people). Unfortunately the impact of the film is lessened by a weak ending and by missing some opportunities to be as profoundly moving as it could potentially have been.
Wednesday, 1 November 2006
October film roundup
The Cat Returns *** - What Douglas Adams did for both mice and dolphins - that is, give them a secret civilisation that humans couldn't see - Studio Ghibli now does for cats. For anyone who views cats with distrust, this is a great film - but it probably equally suits cat-lovers, too. It features The Baron, the cat figurine featured in Whisper Of The Heart, in a fantasy adventure that is both thematically similar and stylistically dissimilar from other Ghibli works, weaving in elements of Alice In Wonderland, The Wizard Of Oz and even - I'm pretty sure - Winnie The Pooh. At 75 minutes, it's very much shorter than the average Ghibli animation, suggesting that it is pitched at a younger audience. While it's fun, it's far too modest, lacking the usual Ghibli magic. As (mostly) usual, the English language dub is good, with a couple of well-known actors in the main roles (Cary "Dread Pirate Roberts" Elwes, who voiced The Baron in Whisper, returns in the role). But it can't avoid showing its roots: as a short film that's been expanded, it feels too slight compared to most of Ghibli's output. One for Ghibli completists and cat lovers.
Heaven *** - Tom Tykwer's latest film - co-penned by Three Colours director Krzysztof Kieslowski - is as beautiful and as infuriating as might be expected of the director of Run Lola Run and The Princess And The Warrior. Tykwer's obsession with coincidence and serendipity is much in evidence, as is his distinctive visual style. Cate Blanchett is wonderful; she makes a potentially hateful figure immensely likeable. But the film can't quite shake the fact that, as religious allegory (which is surely what it is - certainly there are unsubtle pointers) it simply doesn't work.
Sky Captain And The World Of Tomorrow ** - This experiment in combining live action with computer-drawn sets is handsomely painted but lacks plot, script, humour and heart. Things start promisingly enough with giant robots spectacularly attacking New York in some kind of alternate 1930s, but the film quickly goes off the boil with unlikely plot developments and some cringingly-bad dialogue. In style, this is close to Final Fantasy: The Spirits Within which suffered similarly from a lack of any kind of plot or character development, not to mention some truly bizarre lapses in the "reality" of the scenario. In mood, though, this most represents one of those animé films (giant robots, lasers and retro-futuristic flying machines all present and correct) in which the English language dub has been severely dumbed down. When the aircraft she is travelling in is visibly diving perilously towards the sea, is it strictly necessary for Gwyneth Paltrow to say so repeatedly? It's moments like this that turn this into an earnest, risible and ultimately forgettable mess.
Threads (TVM) ***** - This BBC drama from 1984, directed by Mick Jackson - an acclaimed documentary filmmaker whose previous credits included the seminal The Ascent Of Man and whose later move to Hollywood would result in, er, The Bodyguard and LA Story - is a bold, thoroughly brilliant and extremely disturbing examination of the events in the days leading up to, and the several years following, a nuclear attack on the UK. Even though the fashions have dated somewhat and the 16mm photography lacks contrast and colour saturation, the film still seems years ahead of its time, both in plot (the US is facing a stand-off against hostile forces in Iran - OK, it's against the USSR in this case, but there are plenty of modern parallels) and in execution: presented in a serious yet matter-of-fact kind of way, like a documentary, which adds even more weight to the events as they unfold. The closing credits list a number of academics who contributed to the film, suggesting that this is just about the most truthful examination of nuclear war that one could expect to see. The two-hour run-time is split down the middle with the attack itself occurring right in the middle of the film and, subsequently, some horrific images of the immediate and more distant aftermath, including a nuclear winter and a return to mediaeval ways of life. No punches are pulled: the dead and dying are everywhere; things get violent and ugly as people realise that there is no food; traffic wardens are armed with machine guns to guard troublemakers in makeshift prison camps. But it's the first half of the film that is truly terrifying. In the days before the attack, the ordinary citizens of Sheffield casually go about their business, barely paying attention to the growing military crisis in the Middle East, even when the UK Government starts to bring in emergency powers (which, to an early twenty-first century viewer, may seem uncomfortably familiar, amongst them compulsory ID cards and the right to hold potential troublemakers without trial). By the time the attack siren sounds, very few people are prepared, most caught out in the open doing their weekly shopping. Again the film pulls no punches: private citizens and local government officials alike panic, scarcely believing what's happening. And besides, after the bomb drops, those who have taken some precautions fare no better than those caught completely unawares. Overall, this is harrowing, seriously horrifying material: this reviewer has never been as comprehensively terrified by a film before.
Heaven *** - Tom Tykwer's latest film - co-penned by Three Colours director Krzysztof Kieslowski - is as beautiful and as infuriating as might be expected of the director of Run Lola Run and The Princess And The Warrior. Tykwer's obsession with coincidence and serendipity is much in evidence, as is his distinctive visual style. Cate Blanchett is wonderful; she makes a potentially hateful figure immensely likeable. But the film can't quite shake the fact that, as religious allegory (which is surely what it is - certainly there are unsubtle pointers) it simply doesn't work.
Sky Captain And The World Of Tomorrow ** - This experiment in combining live action with computer-drawn sets is handsomely painted but lacks plot, script, humour and heart. Things start promisingly enough with giant robots spectacularly attacking New York in some kind of alternate 1930s, but the film quickly goes off the boil with unlikely plot developments and some cringingly-bad dialogue. In style, this is close to Final Fantasy: The Spirits Within which suffered similarly from a lack of any kind of plot or character development, not to mention some truly bizarre lapses in the "reality" of the scenario. In mood, though, this most represents one of those animé films (giant robots, lasers and retro-futuristic flying machines all present and correct) in which the English language dub has been severely dumbed down. When the aircraft she is travelling in is visibly diving perilously towards the sea, is it strictly necessary for Gwyneth Paltrow to say so repeatedly? It's moments like this that turn this into an earnest, risible and ultimately forgettable mess.
Threads (TVM) ***** - This BBC drama from 1984, directed by Mick Jackson - an acclaimed documentary filmmaker whose previous credits included the seminal The Ascent Of Man and whose later move to Hollywood would result in, er, The Bodyguard and LA Story - is a bold, thoroughly brilliant and extremely disturbing examination of the events in the days leading up to, and the several years following, a nuclear attack on the UK. Even though the fashions have dated somewhat and the 16mm photography lacks contrast and colour saturation, the film still seems years ahead of its time, both in plot (the US is facing a stand-off against hostile forces in Iran - OK, it's against the USSR in this case, but there are plenty of modern parallels) and in execution: presented in a serious yet matter-of-fact kind of way, like a documentary, which adds even more weight to the events as they unfold. The closing credits list a number of academics who contributed to the film, suggesting that this is just about the most truthful examination of nuclear war that one could expect to see. The two-hour run-time is split down the middle with the attack itself occurring right in the middle of the film and, subsequently, some horrific images of the immediate and more distant aftermath, including a nuclear winter and a return to mediaeval ways of life. No punches are pulled: the dead and dying are everywhere; things get violent and ugly as people realise that there is no food; traffic wardens are armed with machine guns to guard troublemakers in makeshift prison camps. But it's the first half of the film that is truly terrifying. In the days before the attack, the ordinary citizens of Sheffield casually go about their business, barely paying attention to the growing military crisis in the Middle East, even when the UK Government starts to bring in emergency powers (which, to an early twenty-first century viewer, may seem uncomfortably familiar, amongst them compulsory ID cards and the right to hold potential troublemakers without trial). By the time the attack siren sounds, very few people are prepared, most caught out in the open doing their weekly shopping. Again the film pulls no punches: private citizens and local government officials alike panic, scarcely believing what's happening. And besides, after the bomb drops, those who have taken some precautions fare no better than those caught completely unawares. Overall, this is harrowing, seriously horrifying material: this reviewer has never been as comprehensively terrified by a film before.
Sunday, 1 October 2006
September film roundup
A good quantity of (mainly older) films this month of and wildly varying characteristics: none quite reach the standards achieved last month, but there's some fascinating pieces of filmmaking here.
The Safety Of Objects *** - I don't appear ever to have written a review of Panic Room (an unusual omission on my part) but I remember being slightly surprised, about three-quarters of the way through, to realise that Jodie Foster's young son was actually a girl called Sarah. Curious, then, that young actress Kristen Stewart's androgynous, tomboyish appearance is actually a crucial plot point in the previous year's The Safety Of Objects. There's no doubt at all, from the opening scene onwards, that we are watching the work of a female director (and, indeed, mainly female crew). It's yet another entry in the genre of films that contains American Beauty, Donnie Darko, Napoleon Dynamite, Me And You And Everyone We Know, Happiness, Ghost World and The Rules Of Attraction: that is, interlocking character pieces, mainly set in normal suburban lives with dark secrets. As such, it's not an especially interesting example of the genre, although there are some solid performances and a more optimistic ending than in many of the films listed. I guess I'm just not a fan of a genre that, by definition, relies on intricate cross-threading and hence, by restrictive screen time and a large number of strands to cover, doesn't allow the audience to develop intimacy with the characters.
Syriana **** - Also an ensemble piece, but in no way similar to The Safety Of Objects, this is a highly complex, politically-charged drama about America's dependence on oil. The structure is more tightly bound than Traffic, with which it shares a pedigree. If there's a fault, it's that it's such a complicated story - and such a complicated issue - that it demands a great deal of concentration and, consequently, leaves little time for the audience to develop much of a connection for the characters. Overall exhausting but extremely worthwhile.
V For Vendetta *** - Like Syriana, this sets out to show us some truths about the world we live in today - but does it through the medium of a near-future dystopian sci-fi / graphic novel adaptation. Now don't get me wrong: as a writer, I really like near-future dystopias, but V failed to convince for the first 45 minutes or so. Thankfully, things did improve in the second half, but instead of reaching the heights aspired to (a twenty-first century Nineteen Eighty-Four, I assume), it still managed, frustratingly, to come across merely as a big melting pot of ideas from Doctor Who added to a splash of the eponymous mysterious benefactor in Phantom Of The Opera and any number of masked-avenger stories. Briefly: the US and possibly the rest of the world has fallen into anarchy, leaving the UK in the hands of a totalitarian, Christian fundamentalist government who probably don't have the best interest of their citizens at heart. Actually, in reality, it's probably easier to imagine that the US has gone this way than the UK. There are occasional condescending fumblings that betray the American authorship; and some casting decisions are a trifle bizarre; but at least the film attempts to make effective and moody use of its London locations (yet also manages a liberal number of studio or digital sets that stand out a mile). The film's primary downfall is probably its deeply cold execution: it's supposed to be a story that invites its audience to think for themselves and make comparisons with the current state of the nation, but falls flat because it never lets us close enough to the characters to care. A film that heads for greatness but misses the mark. V. disappointing.
Good Night, And Good Luck *** - Yet another film that seeks to show us some truths about the world today, this time in a historical context. It's the 1950s and Senator McCarthy's witchhunt is in full swing. At CBS, liberal broadcasters attempt to discredit McCarthy's methods without themselves occurring his wrath and without losing their sponsors. It's really all about the ongoing self-interest of the media versus exposure of the truth, a topic with profound relevance today. Interestingly, one of the key criticisms levelled at the media organisations in the film is their unwillingness to report bad news. In the twenty-first century, one might argue that the opposite is true: that it's politicians' leaking of bad news and the media's propagation of it that leads us to the vastly inflated sense of fear in the West today. The drama is compelling enough but perhaps a little too constrained by its setting (almost entirely within the Columbia television studios). I'd love to see this as a stage play performed by these actors: it would be riveting.
Only Yesterday *** - Of considerably less universal importance is this Studio Ghibli animation (Omohide Poro Poro, literally (apparently) the beautifully poetic "Memories Of Falling Teardrops") about Taeko, a city woman in her late twenties, struggling to reconcile her memories of childhood whilst on a working holiday on a safflower farm. It's an occasionally eccentric and baffling film from the director of the brilliant Grave Of The Fireflies. Sandwiched in production terms between the highly enjoyable Porco Rosso and the equally wonderful Kiki's Delivery Service, this is heavily grounded in reality: so this is likely to be the first and probably only cartoon that discusses both agricultural economics and menstruation in the space of a few short minutes. The animation, too, is ground-breaking in its level of detail. It's certainly a beautifully drawn film whose main fault is simply that it's too introspective: for all the verbal and physical bullying the ten-year-old Taeko endures, she seems to have fared no worse than any other child on the cusp of puberty, which makes her reminiscences seem rather trivial and self-absorbed.
Les Parapluies de Cherbourg ***- Catherine Deneuve has appeared in several rather bizarre musicals in her lifetime. Even the likes of Dancer In The Dark and 8 Femmes don't quite prepare the viewer for this gloriously, self-indulgently artificial musical in which, rather than shoot on Technicolor to achieve that MGM look, the director opts to paint everything in dayglo colours and have his cast wear bright purple and pink clothes that, more often than not, match the wallpaper in whatever venue they happen to be: it's a bit like a prototype for Baz Luhrmann's brilliant but garish Moulin Rouge! Every word is sung, which heightens the artifice still further. (Early on, a car mechanic sings that he prefers films to opera, because he doens't like the way people sing all the time in opera - hammering the point home just a shade too much.) The story isn't particularly deep - but then, it doesn't need to be - and yet it shies away from convention and has a "happy" ending that isn't the one the audience might expect. Some of the music is pretty good and it doesn't outstay its welcome. Of course, the film is aided no end by the fact that Deneuve herself looks positively angelic (leading to this being allegedly the only musical in history with more male fans than female). But the primary colours and incessant singing can also add up to something of a headache: one would not want to watch this with a hangover. As a unique piece of movie fluff, then, it's good; but it requires some patience to overcome the initial bemusement.
Don't Look Now *** - This classic British psychological thriller stirs up requisite amounts of dread without resorting to blood 'n' gore. The plot centres around a couple whose young daughter may or may not be attempting to contact them from beyond the grave. As audience, we are more frequently frightened than perhaps the characters themselves as they are placed in increasingly (apparently) perilous situations and it becomes apparent that, while there may well be a perfectly innocence explanation for the various phenomena occurring, equally some or all may not be as it seems: anyone, from their friends to the police officers to the churchmen, might be a threat. Sadly the film has not aged well. The cinematography - shot with delibeartely washed-out blues and greens (but particularly garish reds) does turn Venice, which in summertime is a sumptuous and beautiful city, into an eerie, creepy, threatening place; but additionally, time has taken its toll both on the print quality and the soundtrack to Don't Look Now, which proves to be a distraction. The suspense builds well to the iconic closing scence, which will be familiar to even to first-time viewers as a result of repeated use on clip shows and in other movies, and in homage form in the likes of Mulholland Dr.
Barton Fink *** - Like the best of the Coen Brothers' output, this is a sprawling but enthralling tale with surreal undercurrents. The eponymous Fink is a playwright in New York whose critical success leads to him being lured to Hollywood, where he tries to write something meaningful for an audience that just wants the latest brainless blockbuster. It's a multi-layered film: part psychological thriller, part statement on the mass audience for film, part autobiography for the Coens (who, like Fink, had had one major critical success that they were attempting to follow up with this film). Structurally, the film gets across the nature of the artistic process: there are long periods in which nothing happens, followed by a frenzy of activity when inspiration strikes. However, it's this structure that hinders the film somewhat, making it feel somewhat uneven and even a bit dull in places. Fortunately it is redeemed by both an excellent cast and the Coens' unfaltering visual style.
The Safety Of Objects *** - I don't appear ever to have written a review of Panic Room (an unusual omission on my part) but I remember being slightly surprised, about three-quarters of the way through, to realise that Jodie Foster's young son was actually a girl called Sarah. Curious, then, that young actress Kristen Stewart's androgynous, tomboyish appearance is actually a crucial plot point in the previous year's The Safety Of Objects. There's no doubt at all, from the opening scene onwards, that we are watching the work of a female director (and, indeed, mainly female crew). It's yet another entry in the genre of films that contains American Beauty, Donnie Darko, Napoleon Dynamite, Me And You And Everyone We Know, Happiness, Ghost World and The Rules Of Attraction: that is, interlocking character pieces, mainly set in normal suburban lives with dark secrets. As such, it's not an especially interesting example of the genre, although there are some solid performances and a more optimistic ending than in many of the films listed. I guess I'm just not a fan of a genre that, by definition, relies on intricate cross-threading and hence, by restrictive screen time and a large number of strands to cover, doesn't allow the audience to develop intimacy with the characters.
Syriana **** - Also an ensemble piece, but in no way similar to The Safety Of Objects, this is a highly complex, politically-charged drama about America's dependence on oil. The structure is more tightly bound than Traffic, with which it shares a pedigree. If there's a fault, it's that it's such a complicated story - and such a complicated issue - that it demands a great deal of concentration and, consequently, leaves little time for the audience to develop much of a connection for the characters. Overall exhausting but extremely worthwhile.
V For Vendetta *** - Like Syriana, this sets out to show us some truths about the world we live in today - but does it through the medium of a near-future dystopian sci-fi / graphic novel adaptation. Now don't get me wrong: as a writer, I really like near-future dystopias, but V failed to convince for the first 45 minutes or so. Thankfully, things did improve in the second half, but instead of reaching the heights aspired to (a twenty-first century Nineteen Eighty-Four, I assume), it still managed, frustratingly, to come across merely as a big melting pot of ideas from Doctor Who added to a splash of the eponymous mysterious benefactor in Phantom Of The Opera and any number of masked-avenger stories. Briefly: the US and possibly the rest of the world has fallen into anarchy, leaving the UK in the hands of a totalitarian, Christian fundamentalist government who probably don't have the best interest of their citizens at heart. Actually, in reality, it's probably easier to imagine that the US has gone this way than the UK. There are occasional condescending fumblings that betray the American authorship; and some casting decisions are a trifle bizarre; but at least the film attempts to make effective and moody use of its London locations (yet also manages a liberal number of studio or digital sets that stand out a mile). The film's primary downfall is probably its deeply cold execution: it's supposed to be a story that invites its audience to think for themselves and make comparisons with the current state of the nation, but falls flat because it never lets us close enough to the characters to care. A film that heads for greatness but misses the mark. V. disappointing.
Good Night, And Good Luck *** - Yet another film that seeks to show us some truths about the world today, this time in a historical context. It's the 1950s and Senator McCarthy's witchhunt is in full swing. At CBS, liberal broadcasters attempt to discredit McCarthy's methods without themselves occurring his wrath and without losing their sponsors. It's really all about the ongoing self-interest of the media versus exposure of the truth, a topic with profound relevance today. Interestingly, one of the key criticisms levelled at the media organisations in the film is their unwillingness to report bad news. In the twenty-first century, one might argue that the opposite is true: that it's politicians' leaking of bad news and the media's propagation of it that leads us to the vastly inflated sense of fear in the West today. The drama is compelling enough but perhaps a little too constrained by its setting (almost entirely within the Columbia television studios). I'd love to see this as a stage play performed by these actors: it would be riveting.
Only Yesterday *** - Of considerably less universal importance is this Studio Ghibli animation (Omohide Poro Poro, literally (apparently) the beautifully poetic "Memories Of Falling Teardrops") about Taeko, a city woman in her late twenties, struggling to reconcile her memories of childhood whilst on a working holiday on a safflower farm. It's an occasionally eccentric and baffling film from the director of the brilliant Grave Of The Fireflies. Sandwiched in production terms between the highly enjoyable Porco Rosso and the equally wonderful Kiki's Delivery Service, this is heavily grounded in reality: so this is likely to be the first and probably only cartoon that discusses both agricultural economics and menstruation in the space of a few short minutes. The animation, too, is ground-breaking in its level of detail. It's certainly a beautifully drawn film whose main fault is simply that it's too introspective: for all the verbal and physical bullying the ten-year-old Taeko endures, she seems to have fared no worse than any other child on the cusp of puberty, which makes her reminiscences seem rather trivial and self-absorbed.
Les Parapluies de Cherbourg ***- Catherine Deneuve has appeared in several rather bizarre musicals in her lifetime. Even the likes of Dancer In The Dark and 8 Femmes don't quite prepare the viewer for this gloriously, self-indulgently artificial musical in which, rather than shoot on Technicolor to achieve that MGM look, the director opts to paint everything in dayglo colours and have his cast wear bright purple and pink clothes that, more often than not, match the wallpaper in whatever venue they happen to be: it's a bit like a prototype for Baz Luhrmann's brilliant but garish Moulin Rouge! Every word is sung, which heightens the artifice still further. (Early on, a car mechanic sings that he prefers films to opera, because he doens't like the way people sing all the time in opera - hammering the point home just a shade too much.) The story isn't particularly deep - but then, it doesn't need to be - and yet it shies away from convention and has a "happy" ending that isn't the one the audience might expect. Some of the music is pretty good and it doesn't outstay its welcome. Of course, the film is aided no end by the fact that Deneuve herself looks positively angelic (leading to this being allegedly the only musical in history with more male fans than female). But the primary colours and incessant singing can also add up to something of a headache: one would not want to watch this with a hangover. As a unique piece of movie fluff, then, it's good; but it requires some patience to overcome the initial bemusement.
Don't Look Now *** - This classic British psychological thriller stirs up requisite amounts of dread without resorting to blood 'n' gore. The plot centres around a couple whose young daughter may or may not be attempting to contact them from beyond the grave. As audience, we are more frequently frightened than perhaps the characters themselves as they are placed in increasingly (apparently) perilous situations and it becomes apparent that, while there may well be a perfectly innocence explanation for the various phenomena occurring, equally some or all may not be as it seems: anyone, from their friends to the police officers to the churchmen, might be a threat. Sadly the film has not aged well. The cinematography - shot with delibeartely washed-out blues and greens (but particularly garish reds) does turn Venice, which in summertime is a sumptuous and beautiful city, into an eerie, creepy, threatening place; but additionally, time has taken its toll both on the print quality and the soundtrack to Don't Look Now, which proves to be a distraction. The suspense builds well to the iconic closing scence, which will be familiar to even to first-time viewers as a result of repeated use on clip shows and in other movies, and in homage form in the likes of Mulholland Dr.
Barton Fink *** - Like the best of the Coen Brothers' output, this is a sprawling but enthralling tale with surreal undercurrents. The eponymous Fink is a playwright in New York whose critical success leads to him being lured to Hollywood, where he tries to write something meaningful for an audience that just wants the latest brainless blockbuster. It's a multi-layered film: part psychological thriller, part statement on the mass audience for film, part autobiography for the Coens (who, like Fink, had had one major critical success that they were attempting to follow up with this film). Structurally, the film gets across the nature of the artistic process: there are long periods in which nothing happens, followed by a frenzy of activity when inspiration strikes. However, it's this structure that hinders the film somewhat, making it feel somewhat uneven and even a bit dull in places. Fortunately it is redeemed by both an excellent cast and the Coens' unfaltering visual style.
Friday, 1 September 2006
August film roundup
What a month. August started out looking like a bit of a damp squib but quickly warmed up thanks to some of the best films I've seen in the past couple of years.
Happiness ** - A film designed from start to finish to make the audience squirm. For your consideration: domestic violence; obscene phone calls; rape fantasies; paedophilia; and full and frank discussion of burgeoning teenage sexuality which climaxes (ahem) in a now infamous shot of projectile bodily fluid. Oh, and divorce, theft, suicide and murder. This is, incidentally, billed as a comedy. The plot, such as it is, centres around three sisters and the friends, family and neighbours around them, of varying degrees of weirdness and / or criminality. It could be that, on the page, this looked like a daring, unique philosophical work. Unfortunately the film isn't even a fraction as clever as it seems to think it is and instead comes across as pretentious, unsubtle and too calculated to truly shock. Sadly, this turns the film into little more than a freak show in which the only emotion actually evoked is relief that real life just isn't this bad.
Heat **** - A long but surprisingly complex, moody and very effective cops vs. robbers thriller with the leads on each side played respectively by acting heavyweights Al Pacino and Robert De Niro. The tension ratchets up over the entire (nearly 3-hour) runtime and, brilliantly, the audience can find themselves rooting for both opposing parties.
March Of The Penguins *** - Well-regarded throughout the world as a formal theatrical documentary, this might come across as somewhat redundant to a UK audience who have grown up with David Attenborough and BBC Bristol. The story of Emperor Penguins' annual fight for survival whilst tending to their vulnerable single chicks is always a compelling one - and it's easy to anthropomorphise the creatures and believe narrator Morgan Freeman's description of this as a love story - but actually, we've seen it before and familiarity does indeed bring a degree of contempt. Certainly nowhere near as compelling as Grizzly Man.
Porco Rosso **** - In 2001, Empire magazine carried a brief article about the ongoing failure to release Princess Mononoke in the UK, in which a spokesperson for Buena Vista confidently claimed that none of the Studio Ghibli back catalogue would ever be released, as there was no demand for them in the West. Happily, she was quite, quite wrong: nearly all of the catalogue is now available on region 2 DVD. There is always going to be a market for the "alternative" to mainstream cinema, particularly when so well-executed that it puts to shame what most people would consider to be the gold standard of Western animated filmmaking, epitomised by Disney and more recently by Pixar and Dreamworks. Ghibli has been consistently turning out brilliant, near-perfect animations for two decades. Amongst my own humble reviews, the average mark scored by Ghibli films is astonishingly high; there is not a single one that could be considered as even slightly below average. Porco Rosso is one of the lesser-known works by Hayao Miyazaki and is certainly less celebrated than Spirited Away whose critical and commercial success was, in fact, the key factor in the eventual release of the majority of the back catalogue. But this film is, as near as makes no difference, perfect. Two years ago, I would have readily given this the full ***** score and the only reason I haven't is because I now have much more stringent requirements for that (which has resulted in only a single ***** film in the past two and a half years): and actually, Porco won't have universal appeal, even for some Ghibli fans. The title character is an ace pilot and bounty hunter in the inter-war era, battling pirates in the Adriatic and collecting his reward, living alone on an island beach. His real name is Marco, but due to a mysterious "curse", he has been turned into a pig, earning him the nickname Porco. (Of course, the curse can be perceived as a figurative device. We learn that he became a pig after fighting for the Italians in the First World War, when he lost many of his friends and colleagues - shown in a haunting, ethereal, near-silent scene in which they pilots and planes float away to Heaven in a shimmering cloud. His appearance is a physical manifestation of the guilt he feels. What, then, can break the "spell"? But Porco's physical appearance is also an unexpected literalism: he is a chauvinist pig; he is pig-headed.) After nearly losing his plane to an American hired by the pirates to shoot him down, he teams up with the feisty granddaughter of a plane builder and repairer, who happens to be a brilliant aeronautical engineer, as well as the most disgracefully tempting teenage animated character since, uh, Ariel. Overall, the mood is rather different, perhaps more adult and more personal than most Miyazaki films, although it contains many familiar themes (flying machines, no easy good vs. evil categorisation, and strong female characters) albeit without such grand environmental and social subtexts that he has favoured of late. Instead, it's a film about honour and about coming to terms with one's own past, which happens to sit snugly in its historical context, with Italian fascism on the ascent and the romantic, heroic era of early aviation not yet in descent. It's also probably the most beautiful of all Ghibli's animations in its pre-CGI era, which is high praise indeed. In the end, not a huge amount actually happens and the ending feels slightly too abrupt - we could have done with a more emotional pay-off, even if the existing conclusion is entirely in keeping with the character - but it's easy to forgive any minor flaws because it's otherwise so perfectly executed throughout. Even the English-language dub by Disney is successful, with Michael Keaton effective as Porco - who, come to think of it, is almost a Batman-esque avenger in his own right, hiding behind the mask of his curse. Modest as it is, I'm happy to call this the best "new" film I've seen this year.
The Princess And The Warrior *** - Cinderella for the twenty-first century, tied into a taut thriller, with the same director / leading lady pair as the brilliant Run Lola Run. It's not quite as original as that work but explores similar themes of fate and serendipity - this time in a romantic context, but again against a criminal background. The romance is realistic - awkward as much as sweet. But the intentionally dreamy nature of the film makes it feel too long and without the frenetic pacing of Lola it struggles to hold the interest.
Snakes On A Plane *** - Having gained a huge amount of publicity in advance of its release, the filmmakers decided to shoot a handful of new scenes to please the burgeoning fanbase. These scenes tend to stick out like a sore thumb. Whether this fact even matters depends on the viewer's point of view. If you take this as a "serious" disaster flick, it's diabolical, on a par with the very worst that genre has to offer. If you take it as a light-hearted riff on the stereotypical 1970s aeroplane-in-trouble film - which, post Airplane!, is probably the right way of thinking - then it's fun and enjoyably gruesome. The laughs tend to come from knowing the well-worn routines: death coming unexpectedly, or to the most irritating / bravest / stupidest of the supporting cast (with the lead cast never in much danger). There's even an Airplane!-esque "Can anybody fly a plane?" moment [*]. It's a good film in the way that From Dusk Till Dawn was fun and seems destined to find a similar niche market.
[*] Even though it rips off a joke I wrote in my first feature screenplay as far back as 1999. Although, actually, I nicked it lock-stock from Flight Of The Phoenix anyway.
Capote *** - At one time, Truman Capote was the most celebrated author in America, and possibly the world. He was, apparently, also a squeaky-voiced weirdo who struggled to reconcile his friendship with the subjects of his masterpiece, In Cold Blood, with the fact that he really needed them to be found guilty of murder and, preferably, hanged, so that he could finish the book. This biopic pulls no punches and works as a documentary, but whether it works as a film depends on how quickly the viewer starts to find Capote's endless self-absorption irritating. Philip Seymour Hoffman's performance is almost uncanny, but that doesn't make the character any less annoying. As with this year's other celebrated biopic, Walk The Line, some of the supporting characters are almost as interesting as Capote himself, including Capote's close friend Nelle Harper Lee, whom generations of schoolchildren will recognise as the author of To Kill A Mockingbird.
Munich ***** - A fictionalised account of the kidnapping and subsequent murder of eleven Israeli athletes at the 1972 Munich Olympics and, more importantly, Israel's subsequent response to it: Mossad sends a handful of its agents - disavowed, of course - to murder eleven Palestinians that they judge to be instrumental in organising the Munich kidnapping. As mentioned above, it's been a very long time since I issued a ***** review and even in this case, it was not without some agonising. Spielberg still, even now, can't do endings and the film could have been more tightly edited. But, apart from this and a couple of very minor but surprising technical glitches (parts of the dialogue soundtrack were a bit ropey), the film is near flawless. As a straightforward conspiracy thriller, it stands head-and-shoulders above anything else in the genre recently. It's always taut, as the characters must wrestle not only with their own belief systems but also with constant fear as the KGB and CIA appear to get involved in their plotting. As political piece, it's more lightweight, but the filmmakers have evidently gone to some trouble to humanise both sides of the equation. The violence is restrained at first, more bloody later, as the five assassins begin to warm to their task: so although we do not see the aftermath of the first bomb the group plants, we are not spared when they shoot a young woman and leave her, deliberately naked and splayed as a final humiliation. Near the film's conclusion, Spielberg unwisely links the themes of sex and murder in a way that might well have appealed to Kubrick. As with all Spielberg's films, this is about family and home: the lead assassin (played by Eric Bana) has a wife and young child to protect, as well as more broadly his homeland, and of course the Palestinians are mainly motivated by a land to call a home of their own. The film finishes with a shot of the New York skyline with the Twin Towers prominent: a trivial comparison, perhaps, but effective in context. It's a brave project for a top Hollywood director and an even braver one for a brace of mainstream studios to back (Universal, Dreamworks, Alliance Atlantis) but it works and it feels balanced without being unnecessarily restrained.
Happiness ** - A film designed from start to finish to make the audience squirm. For your consideration: domestic violence; obscene phone calls; rape fantasies; paedophilia; and full and frank discussion of burgeoning teenage sexuality which climaxes (ahem) in a now infamous shot of projectile bodily fluid. Oh, and divorce, theft, suicide and murder. This is, incidentally, billed as a comedy. The plot, such as it is, centres around three sisters and the friends, family and neighbours around them, of varying degrees of weirdness and / or criminality. It could be that, on the page, this looked like a daring, unique philosophical work. Unfortunately the film isn't even a fraction as clever as it seems to think it is and instead comes across as pretentious, unsubtle and too calculated to truly shock. Sadly, this turns the film into little more than a freak show in which the only emotion actually evoked is relief that real life just isn't this bad.
Heat **** - A long but surprisingly complex, moody and very effective cops vs. robbers thriller with the leads on each side played respectively by acting heavyweights Al Pacino and Robert De Niro. The tension ratchets up over the entire (nearly 3-hour) runtime and, brilliantly, the audience can find themselves rooting for both opposing parties.
March Of The Penguins *** - Well-regarded throughout the world as a formal theatrical documentary, this might come across as somewhat redundant to a UK audience who have grown up with David Attenborough and BBC Bristol. The story of Emperor Penguins' annual fight for survival whilst tending to their vulnerable single chicks is always a compelling one - and it's easy to anthropomorphise the creatures and believe narrator Morgan Freeman's description of this as a love story - but actually, we've seen it before and familiarity does indeed bring a degree of contempt. Certainly nowhere near as compelling as Grizzly Man.
Porco Rosso **** - In 2001, Empire magazine carried a brief article about the ongoing failure to release Princess Mononoke in the UK, in which a spokesperson for Buena Vista confidently claimed that none of the Studio Ghibli back catalogue would ever be released, as there was no demand for them in the West. Happily, she was quite, quite wrong: nearly all of the catalogue is now available on region 2 DVD. There is always going to be a market for the "alternative" to mainstream cinema, particularly when so well-executed that it puts to shame what most people would consider to be the gold standard of Western animated filmmaking, epitomised by Disney and more recently by Pixar and Dreamworks. Ghibli has been consistently turning out brilliant, near-perfect animations for two decades. Amongst my own humble reviews, the average mark scored by Ghibli films is astonishingly high; there is not a single one that could be considered as even slightly below average. Porco Rosso is one of the lesser-known works by Hayao Miyazaki and is certainly less celebrated than Spirited Away whose critical and commercial success was, in fact, the key factor in the eventual release of the majority of the back catalogue. But this film is, as near as makes no difference, perfect. Two years ago, I would have readily given this the full ***** score and the only reason I haven't is because I now have much more stringent requirements for that (which has resulted in only a single ***** film in the past two and a half years): and actually, Porco won't have universal appeal, even for some Ghibli fans. The title character is an ace pilot and bounty hunter in the inter-war era, battling pirates in the Adriatic and collecting his reward, living alone on an island beach. His real name is Marco, but due to a mysterious "curse", he has been turned into a pig, earning him the nickname Porco. (Of course, the curse can be perceived as a figurative device. We learn that he became a pig after fighting for the Italians in the First World War, when he lost many of his friends and colleagues - shown in a haunting, ethereal, near-silent scene in which they pilots and planes float away to Heaven in a shimmering cloud. His appearance is a physical manifestation of the guilt he feels. What, then, can break the "spell"? But Porco's physical appearance is also an unexpected literalism: he is a chauvinist pig; he is pig-headed.) After nearly losing his plane to an American hired by the pirates to shoot him down, he teams up with the feisty granddaughter of a plane builder and repairer, who happens to be a brilliant aeronautical engineer, as well as the most disgracefully tempting teenage animated character since, uh, Ariel. Overall, the mood is rather different, perhaps more adult and more personal than most Miyazaki films, although it contains many familiar themes (flying machines, no easy good vs. evil categorisation, and strong female characters) albeit without such grand environmental and social subtexts that he has favoured of late. Instead, it's a film about honour and about coming to terms with one's own past, which happens to sit snugly in its historical context, with Italian fascism on the ascent and the romantic, heroic era of early aviation not yet in descent. It's also probably the most beautiful of all Ghibli's animations in its pre-CGI era, which is high praise indeed. In the end, not a huge amount actually happens and the ending feels slightly too abrupt - we could have done with a more emotional pay-off, even if the existing conclusion is entirely in keeping with the character - but it's easy to forgive any minor flaws because it's otherwise so perfectly executed throughout. Even the English-language dub by Disney is successful, with Michael Keaton effective as Porco - who, come to think of it, is almost a Batman-esque avenger in his own right, hiding behind the mask of his curse. Modest as it is, I'm happy to call this the best "new" film I've seen this year.
The Princess And The Warrior *** - Cinderella for the twenty-first century, tied into a taut thriller, with the same director / leading lady pair as the brilliant Run Lola Run. It's not quite as original as that work but explores similar themes of fate and serendipity - this time in a romantic context, but again against a criminal background. The romance is realistic - awkward as much as sweet. But the intentionally dreamy nature of the film makes it feel too long and without the frenetic pacing of Lola it struggles to hold the interest.
Snakes On A Plane *** - Having gained a huge amount of publicity in advance of its release, the filmmakers decided to shoot a handful of new scenes to please the burgeoning fanbase. These scenes tend to stick out like a sore thumb. Whether this fact even matters depends on the viewer's point of view. If you take this as a "serious" disaster flick, it's diabolical, on a par with the very worst that genre has to offer. If you take it as a light-hearted riff on the stereotypical 1970s aeroplane-in-trouble film - which, post Airplane!, is probably the right way of thinking - then it's fun and enjoyably gruesome. The laughs tend to come from knowing the well-worn routines: death coming unexpectedly, or to the most irritating / bravest / stupidest of the supporting cast (with the lead cast never in much danger). There's even an Airplane!-esque "Can anybody fly a plane?" moment [*]. It's a good film in the way that From Dusk Till Dawn was fun and seems destined to find a similar niche market.
[*] Even though it rips off a joke I wrote in my first feature screenplay as far back as 1999. Although, actually, I nicked it lock-stock from Flight Of The Phoenix anyway.
Capote *** - At one time, Truman Capote was the most celebrated author in America, and possibly the world. He was, apparently, also a squeaky-voiced weirdo who struggled to reconcile his friendship with the subjects of his masterpiece, In Cold Blood, with the fact that he really needed them to be found guilty of murder and, preferably, hanged, so that he could finish the book. This biopic pulls no punches and works as a documentary, but whether it works as a film depends on how quickly the viewer starts to find Capote's endless self-absorption irritating. Philip Seymour Hoffman's performance is almost uncanny, but that doesn't make the character any less annoying. As with this year's other celebrated biopic, Walk The Line, some of the supporting characters are almost as interesting as Capote himself, including Capote's close friend Nelle Harper Lee, whom generations of schoolchildren will recognise as the author of To Kill A Mockingbird.
Munich ***** - A fictionalised account of the kidnapping and subsequent murder of eleven Israeli athletes at the 1972 Munich Olympics and, more importantly, Israel's subsequent response to it: Mossad sends a handful of its agents - disavowed, of course - to murder eleven Palestinians that they judge to be instrumental in organising the Munich kidnapping. As mentioned above, it's been a very long time since I issued a ***** review and even in this case, it was not without some agonising. Spielberg still, even now, can't do endings and the film could have been more tightly edited. But, apart from this and a couple of very minor but surprising technical glitches (parts of the dialogue soundtrack were a bit ropey), the film is near flawless. As a straightforward conspiracy thriller, it stands head-and-shoulders above anything else in the genre recently. It's always taut, as the characters must wrestle not only with their own belief systems but also with constant fear as the KGB and CIA appear to get involved in their plotting. As political piece, it's more lightweight, but the filmmakers have evidently gone to some trouble to humanise both sides of the equation. The violence is restrained at first, more bloody later, as the five assassins begin to warm to their task: so although we do not see the aftermath of the first bomb the group plants, we are not spared when they shoot a young woman and leave her, deliberately naked and splayed as a final humiliation. Near the film's conclusion, Spielberg unwisely links the themes of sex and murder in a way that might well have appealed to Kubrick. As with all Spielberg's films, this is about family and home: the lead assassin (played by Eric Bana) has a wife and young child to protect, as well as more broadly his homeland, and of course the Palestinians are mainly motivated by a land to call a home of their own. The film finishes with a shot of the New York skyline with the Twin Towers prominent: a trivial comparison, perhaps, but effective in context. It's a brave project for a top Hollywood director and an even braver one for a brace of mainstream studios to back (Universal, Dreamworks, Alliance Atlantis) but it works and it feels balanced without being unnecessarily restrained.
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