film review

Me Before You

Posted on by Charlotte_Sometimes

A serviceable and relatively sincere weepie

Let’s start this with an admission. I am a crier. I have cried and will cry at everything and anything. An article on human kindness – I weep. An audition on a relatively television program – I sob. A particularly emotive song – I howl. Considering the nature of this film and what I had heard of the book I had the tissues at the ready. Literally I had taken a tissue out of the packet and tucked it into a jumper sleeve for easy access. Come the roll of the credits and the tissue had remained unused. I didn’t cry. This is not necessarily a criticism of the film – there were plenty of noses being blown and gentle sobbing echoed around the screen. Yet not a peep from me. Whether that is because I’m all cried out from recent weeks or whether the film didn’t have the emotional depth needed? Well, read on and see…

Two years ago William Traynor (Sam Claflin) was hit by a motorbike – leaving him paralysed from the neck-down. Will was once a man about town, living and hustling in London. The type of man all men envied and all women wanted. Now he is stuck back in his small-town home with his parents Camilla (Janet McTeer) and Steven (Charles Dance). Concerned by his desperately low spirits she decides to hire a carer/companion who can brighten up his lonely   existence.  Enter Louisa Clark (Emilia Clarke) who has just lost her job at the local cafe. Aged 26 she has never left her small town home, a place which she either loves too much or is too scared to leave. Her family rely on her as she brings in the only income so this job is perfect for her! Except she has zero experience as a carer. Having always been outshone by her younger sister, single mother Katrina (Jenna Coleman), or patronised by her long-term boyfriend Patrick (Matthew Lewis), Louisa is a woman not living life to its fullest. Maybe Will, a man who can no longer enjoy life, is the perfect person to help her live hers?

Having not read the book I cannot comment on the success of the transition of book to screen, although Twitter would suggest it is faithful. The story itself is relatively predictable, with little surprise, though this is not necessarily a bad thing as the story itself is told rather well. The pacing is solid with the growing bond between Louisa and Will is believable.The supporting cast are impeccably stereotypical and two-dimensional. Roll call for romantic tragedy archetypes – we have present: jealous and moody boyfriend who ‘doesn’t understand or appreciate’ how amazing his girlfriend is. Overly concerned mother and withdrawn father. Know-it-all younger sibling full of great advice. Friendly Australian nurse who steals most of the scenes he is in… (Side note: how can I get my own Nathan, Stephen Peacocke..?) 

The main cast themselves are solid. Claflin does well with his role as a man who feels he has little reason to live. He provides his character with just enough spark to hint at the man Will once was. His bond with Clarke’s character is well-established and there is plenty of charisma between them. It’s Clarke’s performance that particularly stands out, with her facial expressions providing an earnest authenticity to her character. Although her character is essentially a 2016 small-town England Manic Pixie Dream Girl (her ‘quirky’ clothes and shoes used to denote her character as opposed to providing her with any genuine character traits) she is remarkably likeable. Her eyebrow acting is, as my secondary school students would say, on point – managing to show so much with them knitted in concern.

There’s enough here to watch and enjoy with a glass of wine. It doesn’t reinvent the wheel but if you’re a fan of such films as  The Fault In Our Stars or Me, Earl and the Dying Girl then you’ll enjoy this.

stars

Sing Street

Posted on by Charlotte_Sometimes

1980s. Dublin. New Romantics.

If the prospect of those three words being combined into a film does not fill you with glee I’m not sure how well we’re going to get on or how well you’re going to get on with this film. If you haven’t jumped ship  and are still reading – then this film may just be for you! From John Carney, the writer-director-producer of  Once and Begin Again, comes another musical tale about love and friendship. But this time our main characters are teenagers and they are forming a band The Commitments-style. The result is one of the most rewarding, enjoyable and grin-inducing films of the year so far.

It’s 1985. Like all epic stories it started with money problems and a girl. Connor (Ferdia Walsh-Peelo) is forced to leave his expensive fee-paying school and attend the local state school Synge Street CBS. The family has little money coming in as patriarch Robert (Aidan Gillen) is finding his architecture practice is not really required during a financial crisis. It’s at his new school, well on the school’s doorstep, that Connor first meets Raphina (Lucy Boynton). Raphina is an older lady, one year older, and is the most glamorous/gorgeous/extraordinary woman Cosmo has ever seen. New-found friend and wanna-be entrepreneur Darren (Ben Carolan) explains the school gossip that Raphina is a model who will soon be moving to England to make her fortune. Connor bravely introduces himself to Raphina and offers her a job that weekend to star in his band’s music video. After a bit of charming she agrees to take the job. Except Connor doesn’t actually have a band – yet. With audiophile elder brother Brendan (Jack Reynor) to guide him surely it’ll all be easy, won’t it..?

There are so many reasons to love this film – many of which I don’t want to discuss in too much detail or give away as it’s discovering them for yourself that only add to the brilliance. However I will briefly give the headlines of the reasons for my adoration. For favourite character I am torn between Brendan and bespeckled multi-instrumentalist Eamon (Mark McKenna). The soundtrack will undoubtedly be one of the best of the year – the classics are superbly chosen and the original songs (such Riddle of the Model) are wonderful tributes with some infectiously catchy riffs. The storyline is told with great empathy and sympathy. This is a film that truly cares about its characters. The music videos the band makes are both hilarious and nostalgia-inducing (even for those of us who were not alive in 1985!) I full enjoyed the references to The Cure, Duran Duran and Spandau Ballet to name just three – I can only imagine the depth of the enjoyment for those who leaved and breathed this music scene. The friendship between the newly-formed band is heart-warming and believable thanks to some fantastic chemistry between them. The film also manages to cover lots of ‘big’ topics – mental health, adultery, abuse – sensitively and appropriately. There’s a great balance here between pathos and humour. 

My main criticism would be the treatment of Raphina. Boynton does an excellent job with the material she is given but the presentation/treatment of her character is far too Maniac Pixie Dream Girl. For the most part we only learn about Raphina through what Connor (whom Raphina later renames Cosmo) sees and hears. She doesn’t transcend being his figure of worship and far too much screen time is dedicated to his male-gaze watching her. Whilst the dialogue of most of the characters is rooted in a degree of realism or believability Raphina’s craic is over-rehearsed. Arguably this could be a reflection of her personality as a character but for the most part her dialogue rarely lands as effectively like the other characters. Any film that focuses on a romantic crush, be that of a man or woman, must deal with the universality of the story arc as a duel-edged sword.  Whilst it makes for an accessible storyline, as the majority of the world’s population would have had a romantic crush at some point or another,  it means we then have to believe in the crush and that all the turmoil it brings our lead character is worth it. Is Raphina worth it?

Aside from my ponderings on potentially dubious representation, I truly loved Sing Street. So much so I think a rewatch in the new few weeks will be in order. It tickles the funny bone whilst tugging at the heart strings. It’s an old-fashioned story told with great warmth and will great skill. And, for New Romantics at heart like me, it’s chance to feel immersed in and nostalgic for a lifetime I never lived.

4.5

 

 

 

 

Green Room

Posted on by Charlotte_Sometimes

An intelligent and electrifying horror

Usually me and horror don’t mix particularly well. Almost two months on and I am still occasionally haunted by visions of Black Phillip the goat from The Witch and I still feel a bit twitchy when I think about what I would do if I were to be trapped in a basement 10 Cloverfield Lane – style (is it normal to worry about that as a hypothetical scenario..?) But then again, Green Room isn’t your typical horror film. Yes there is gore (I’ve become very aware of my hands for the past hour since watching) but it is never overused. Whilst the narrative follows a ‘well-that-escalated-quickly’ structure it is founded in a series of cause-and-effect plot points that seem both believable and terrifying in equal measure. Then when you chuck in the superb pacing, swift editing, nerve-shredding soundtrack and  some superb character performances…well you’re in for a great time!

“The Ain’t Rights” are a punk band who are travelling through the Pacific Northwest, playing gigs and scrummaging whatever they can to get by.  The band – formed of Pat (Anton Yelchin), Sam (Alia Shawkat), Reece (Joe Cole) and Tiger (Callum Turner) – end up playing a gig in rural Seaside, Oregon to a club filled with Neo-Nazi skinheads.Upon seeing their Anti-Semitic surroundings Pat jokingly suggests they play a cover of The Dead Kennedys “Nazi Punks Fuck Off!” The band play the song during their set to  a less than receptive audience. Set over and cash in hand they make a move to leave, a move which the show organiser hastens to speed up, when Pat has to run back to grab the band’s mobile which they left charging. He stumbles across the scene of one of the skinheads leaning over the body of a young female punk with her still-alive friend Amber (Imogen Poots) rendered numb in disbelief. The band are then locked in the green room with the pair and the dead body. Reinforcements are called in the form of club owner Darcy (Patrick Stewart). The band have seen too much. Will any of them make it out alive?

There are so many reasons to like this movie. I want to say enjoy but considering the subject matter and content the verb ‘enjoy’ seems in rather poor taste. Semantics aside this is a cracking horror film. The slow-build of tension, the overwhelming sense of inevitability and the shock factor of many of moments. This is a film made with an equal blend of style and substance. The film looks damn good – the shots are well chosen with some excellent lighting choices that make for truly memorable sequences.

All of these factors would be pointless were it not for the excellent performances that drive the story. The characters are presented in a way that is a balance between wanting them to live but not really knowing them well enough to mourn any losses that occur on the way. You experience a degree of ‘oh no!’ because you care about them when certain things may or may not happen but are detached enough from them to not feel too aggrieved should/when something happens to them. Yelchin is superb as the accidental leader of punk trope. Poots is truly kick-ass as a female character who is not just cast to the sidelines, doesn’t spend the entirety of the film in shades of hysteria and who is capable of holding her own in certain situations. This is definitely/hopefully  showing a changing of the tide in Hollywood horror as her character is in line with that of Mary Elizabeth Winstead in the aforementioned 10 Cloverfield Lane. And then there’s Patrick Stewart as a properly scary baddie – whose calm and collected demeanor is unbearably (in a good way) unnerving to watch.   

Tense and taut (clocking in at 94 minutes) with some powerfully acted performances along with an admirably well-written script that is black humour laden this is definitely worth a watch.

4 stars

Bad Neighbours 2

Posted on by Charlotte_Sometimes

A surprisingly knowledgeable and at times rather progressive comedy

It started with a tweet. On Thursday evening movie magazine Little White Lies tweeted about its review for Bad Neighbours 2. The review as written by Elena Lazic with  the tweet reading ‘I went long on the unexpectedly progressive, feminist and funny Bad Neighbours 2’. Now, as anyone who knows me, that’s the kind of click-bait that gets me hooked into reading. The review itself is wonderfully written – very reflective and articulate. Hopefully this review lives up to the one that inspired the film-watching and subsequent review! Post-watching I firmly agree with Miss Lazic’s review – for Bad Neighbours 2 is full of surprises. Most of them good and approvingly well-informed of gender politics.

Mac Radner (Seth Rogen) and his wife Kelly (Rose Byrne) are expecting their second daughter so decide to put their house on the market and move into the suburbs. A married couple with a young child place an offer putting the property into escrow – for the next 30 days the potential buyers can drop in at any time and have any inspections they wish undertaken before they confirm their buying of the property. For the next 30 days Mac and Kelly need for everything to stay the same, no big changes which will scare off the buyers. What’s more than unfortunate is that their new neighbours move in on day 1 of 30 – and their neighbours are the college’s newest sorority. Kappa Nu has been newly founded by Shelby (Chloë Grace Moretz), Beth (Kiersey Clemons) and Nora (Beanie Feldstein). The trio united and formed the new sorority as they disagree with sexist legislation that prevents the existing sororities form having parties  and were disgusted by the sexist antics of the fraternity party they attended. War is soon declared between the ‘old’ couple and the sorority girls, with ex-Frat boy Teddy Sanders (Zac Efron) leading the girls into battle. 

In the mid 2000s the term ‘Frat Pack’ was coined to describe a group of Hollywood actors – this group included Ben Stiller, Owen Wilson, Jack Black, Vince Vaughn etc.Then came the “Apatow Chapter” (named after writer/director/producer Judd Apatow) which Bad Neighbours 2 lead actor Seth Rogen was a part of. The majority of the films generated from these unholy alliances could not/should not be labelled as displaying any feminist traits. In fact one would be hard-pressed to name just one of these films that featured a single positive representation of women. That’s part of the surprise that comes from watching Bad Neighbours 2.

Many of the early parts of the film, and intermittently throughout, discuss modern issues of equality in an outstandingly sympathetic and understanding manner. The double standards of the rules about sororities not having parties is not actually fictionalised by the film – it’s not a actual law but it is a national mandate decided by those who govern the nation’s leading sororities (read this excellent Washington Post article for further insight). This film appears to be Hollywood’s attempt to address the issue and it does so rather well. The female trios decision to form their own society in which they can go against the system is reinforced when they attend a Frat party – a party in which they see sexist treatment of women being accepted as a norm with an atmosphere akin to that of a hunting ground with men stalking what they view as walking vaginas. It’s a cleverly written scene which is nowhere near as heavily-handed written as it could have been. 

The issue soon takes the backseat for the battle between the two generations/neighbours – during which very little that is new or of much interest. But what does remain on screen are portrayals of women who have a certain spark, a fight within them, that most Hollywood comedies assigns to its male characters. Ordinally the female figures on the screen are resigned to being love interests or purveyors of gratuitous nudity. As annoying as Shelby gets, and she does get pretty annoying, she remains a character who is female, who is interesting and possesses some semblance of a personality. It is scary to reflect on how rarely such a female figure makes  it onto the big screen. Bryne is also given a role that is rather atypical for Frat Pack movies – a wife who is not presented as some sort of shrieking harpy. She appears to be as fun-loving as her husband and they comes across as equals in their relationship – they are proper partners in crime.

Aside from the ensuing pontification on equality, I did release a fair few chuckles watching this film. Some of Efron’s speeches were delightful, his dancing rather exquisite and his slapstick guffaw-inducing. At only 92 minutes long the film is a more than amusing way to while away an afternoon or evening. Plus the more conversations it stirs up about portrayals of gender the better!

stars

Florence Foster Jenkins

Posted on by Charlotte_Sometimes

Further proof that films are like buses

Occasionally, more frequently than a blue moon but not as often as a full moon, two films about the same topic will come out at around the same time. The most famous example would be 1998’s apocalyptic clash between Michael Bay’s Armageddon and Mimi Leder’s Deep Impact (to save you from speculating, I prefer the latter). And now, in 2016, we have two films about ‘the world’s worst opera singer’ Florence Foster Jenkins. Mme Jenkins was born in 1868 and spent many of the latter years of her life as part of New York’s aristocratic music scene. Renowned for being a very generous benefactor of ‘struggling’ artists she was unsurprisingly popular, so much so her inner circle were able to put up with her recitals – recitals which recordings prove were devoid of tone, rhythm, pitch and sustainment of a single note.  Last month’s magnificent Marguerite was inspired by Florence Foster Jenkins infamous legend – transplanting the character to 1920s France. Now we have one of the grand dames of acting playing her in a biopic of her life in a production that is difficult to avoid comparison to its wonderful European spiritual counterpart

.After an incredibly well-received production in front of a gathering of her various women’s groups, most of which she chairs, Florence Foster Jenkins (Meryl Streep) decides she wants to get back into the swing of regular rehearsing again – ideally culminating in a grand performance. She sets her loving husband St Clair Bayfield (Hugh Grant) on the case. During auditions they find the perfect candidate in the form of Cosme McMoon (Simon Helberg). McMoon rehearses with Florence daily and swiftly becomes part of the furniture for Florence. Things aren’t as easy for McMoon as he must deal with the fact that he employer is the worst singer he has ever heard, something Florence’s British ex-thespian husband does not appear to acknowledge. Then again neither of them acknowledge the fact he lives in an apartment in the city with his mistress Kathleen (Rebecca Ferguson)…

As I have stated previously it is very hard to separate this from Marguerite which I enjoyed tremendously. It seems bitterly unfair to draw a comparison between two films that, subject matter aside, would never have been compared in terms of place of origin, cast or budget. However, and I have no qualms in admitting this,  I think Marguerite is the superior of the two. I really struggled when watching Florence Foster Jenkins for a multitude of reasons, reasons which have not really been addressed by the majority of reviews which shine the film’s praises.

I found the tone rather one-note (ironic considering the focus of the film!) with a plot that meandered between events and scenes. Streep’s characterisation at times bordered on pastiche. Could it be that Streep prefered to let her character reach for the high notes without providing the filler? However during the film’s quieter moments Streep really brings the character to life with some much needed depth with a revelation about 30 minutes in that does provoke a much-needed shift in tone. Admittedly this can be a common problem with ‘true story’ films as often truth can be stranger than fiction, making the truth rather difficult to believe. And yes, in case you were wondering, the singing is as bad as you’d think it would be. How the film portrays this singing is another aspect I found quite bristling when watching as I felt that the audience are called on more frequently to laugh at her rather than with her. As opposed to presenting her as a woman with a passion that truly gave her a purpose for living (*ahem* Marguerite) the film has would could almost be perceived as a mean streak as it laughs at her delusions instead.

This is not helped by the rather hollow archetype Grant portrays as her husband who spends most of his time maintaining Florence’s facade – that’s when he’s not entertaining his mistress. The reasoning for her presence is scarcely explained and results in Ferguson being vastly underused. Helberg (best known for playing Howard in The Big Bang Theory) grates profoundly as a camp closeted wannabe man about town.  The fact he spends the majority of the film with a fixed expression of embarrassed bewilderment only reinforces the sentiment that Florence is a figure of fun as opposed to one who requires understanding.

The film’s message is decidedly unclear.Many reviews refer to the affectionate and heartfelt treatment the film gives its title character. Instead the film feels light on charm, instead possessing a simplistic plot that is full of encouragement to point and laugh at a rather vulnerable figure.

2 stars

Captain America: Civil War

Posted on by Charlotte_Sometimes

Is this Marvel’s greatest hour?

To start, let’s kick off with a bit of a retrospective. In 2008 Iron Man surprised the world – a superhero film packed with action, warmth and wit was a relatively new concept. The fact this one had a brilliant storyline along with making a hero most people outside of comic book fandom did not know/care about into someone they wanted to see even more of – that was the truly incredible thing. Skipping ahead several movies we then arrive at Avengers in 2012 which managed to bring the Earth’s mightest heroes together in a way that gave the entire ensemble space to shine. Captain America: Winter Soldier shook things up in 2014, showing that comic book movies could be more than just punch ups. They could come a espionage thriller editions too. Last year’s Age Of Ultron was ultimately a disappointment (though not in terms of box office) as it was too po-face and side piece-y. Now, one week ahead of the USA, we have Civil War. Civil War fixes the problems of Age Of Ultron, takes the smarts of Winter Soldier, the high-stakes suspense of Avengers and the character driven focus of Iron Man. In many ways it is one of the best Marvel movies yet, but is it really the five star perfection the majority of reviews are touting?

One year after the events in Sokovia – Steve Rodgers/Captain America (Chris Evans), Natasha Romanoff/Black Widow (Scarlett Johansson), Wanda Maximoff/Scarlet Witch (Elizabeth Olsen) and Sam WIlson/Falcon (Anthony Mackie) are in Nigeria trying to prevent the theft of a biological weapon. In the process Wanda  loses control of her powers and a building is destroyed, killing several people. It’s the final straw and the governments of nation’s from around the world demand that the Avengers be held accountable for their actions. The United Nations puts forward the Sokovia Act which would put a governing body in charge of monitoring and policing the world’s growing inhuman population. Tony Stark/Iron Man (Robert Downey Jr.) is in favour of signing that act as he has become all too aware of the consequences of their past actions. Steve, having become distrustful of government after the fall of S.H.I.E.LD, firmly disagrees. When Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier (Sebastian Stan), Steve’s childhood friend who was tortured by H.Y.D.R.A and forced to become an assassin, becomes involved what was once a a fracture becomes a break – forcing the Avengers to take sides. United they stood tall but when divided who will be left standing?

This film is pretty superb. It balances humour with action, characterisation with big set pieces, superpowers with humanity. The end product is pure cinematic escapism, with some big questions being posed along with some laugh-out-loud gags. For instance that age old mantra from Spiderman’s Uncle Ben ‘With great power comes great responsibility’ – if you are the one in possession of great power and you do not use it (however unintentionally) responsibly, who should you be accountable to? If you are capable of destroying cities, constantly having to make life or death decisions, should you have permission? All of Marvel’s past films have led to this point, where tough unanswerable questions slot in with huge/gigantic/speculator action sequences.

However, going somewhat against the tide here, I don’t think it’s perfect. Though its ambition is admirable and mostly successful it is a watching experience akin to going to your favourite restaurant, having your favourite meals but for some reason there is a delay between courses. There are some wonderful/brilliant/extraordinary moments, but then there is a bit of waiting around before the next wonderful/brilliant/extraordinary moment. In many ways this just goes to show just how could the wonderful/brilliant/extraordinary moments are, that they are of such a high caliber that the momentum cannot be maintained. It could also be a by-product of the film’s running time, which clocks in at 147 minutes. Going back to my eating-out analogy perhaps the portion size is overly large, the chef’s eyes were bigger than my belly, and that skimming a bit off the plate may have made for a more satisfying experience.

Saying that does not ignore or take the shine away from the incredible fest that this film offers. It may just be Marvel’s most mature film yet, displaying its spectacle and smarts with great confidence. The central debate is hugely topical – so much so that Batman V Superman featured simillar just a few weeks back. But this film is the antithesis of the fatally flawed BVS:DOJ (which confused dark with murky). Civil War has an edge to it – the Airport fight-out sequence between the two newly-split allegiances easily earns a place in top five scenes in a Marvel movies. Then there’s the new depths added to RDJ’s Tony Stark, a man who seems to be enjoying the continuing evolution of his character. His authority plays a role in his relationships with his fellow Avengers, in his fraternal alliance with Steve Rodgers and most excitingly hints at what looks to be a legendary rapport with the latest incarnation of Spiderman (Tom Holland). Holland is a breath of fresh air to the franchise – he’s cheeky and full of energy, a blend of nerd and cool which neither of the previous film versions seemed to capture. The brewing mentor/mentee relationship between he and Tony Stark is one to truly get excited about. 

Without question this is the best Avengers movie yet – even if the name itself doesn’t lend itself to that. By having the pre-colon say Captain America it almost implies it is a stand-alone movie. It’s not. Although it is Cap’s conflicted conscience which drives the majority of the plot the film is made by the ensemble. Is it the best Marvel movie yet? Instinctively, after great internal battle, I have to say no. In terms of viewing experience I rank Guardians of the Galaxy  far higher and in terms of cerebrality Winter Soldier wins. However, this does not take away from what a spectacular is for the most part. It never feels overstuffed, joyfully introduces new heroes and pays great tribute to our existing heroes.

4.5

 

Son of Saul

Posted on by Charlotte_Sometimes

A Masterpiece

When I left the mid-day screening of this film it was sunny outside. Bright rays gleamed upon the cinema and I glared at them. As I walked home there was a busker singing ‘Walking on Sunshine’. I glared at him. As I passed through a heaving farmers market I glared at the merry people chomping away. I couldn’t work out why I was reacting in this way. Ordinarily I would be thrilled by walking out of the cinema into sun. I would beam at a busker singing Katrina and the Waves 1983 seminal feel-good classic. And I’d probably only side-eye the hipsters filling the farmers market. Why was I so angry at everything? It seemed obvious that it was most likely my  response to the film and the horrors it entailed. But these were not horrors that were new to me – I hadn’t learnt anything new and the events of the film were horrifically familiar.

That’s when I fully grasped just how masterful ‘Son of Saul’ is. It’s almost a rethink of how to portray the Holocaust – by not showing it at all. Gone are any attempts at glamorization, of showy melodrama or noble heroism. Instead we are shown pieces of events – snippets of the evil that took place only feature in the side of or outside of the frame. Overt dramatization is replaced by close-up and over-the-shoulder shots with shallow focus on our central characters face. We hear the events but we don’t see them – leaving the spectator’s imagination to join the dots and fill in the gaps.  As Alfred Hitchcock said, “A glimpse into the world proves that horror is nothing other than reality.”.

It is 1944. Saul (Géza Röhrig) is a Hungarian-Jewish prisoner at Auschwitz who is part of the Sonderkommando unit. He is forced, under threat of death, to work for the Nazis in removing the “‘pieces” (the term used for bodies) from the gas chambers. Although the job delays his death it is only a temporary pardon – the job, and therefore his life, has an expiry date of five months which he is fast approaching. When clearing out the chambers post-gassing he finds a still-breathing boy that he believes to be his son. The Nazi doctors swiftly suffocate the boy and decide to have an autopost performed on him to find out how he survived. Saul desperately endeavours to stop the autopsy and find a Rabbi to lead a proper burial for the boy. 

 The events that follow are unforgettable in terms of content and portrayal – relentless and horrifying yet the carnage is skillfully implied as opposed to being explicitly shown. The two hours spent watching this film are two hours spent being a spectator in Hell. Death is not shown but instead resides off-frame – an omnipotent and omnipresent force haunting the frame. Just as one should not look directly into the sun we cannot look directly into the face of evil.

The opening sequence must be forever acknowledged in its audacity and its viscerality. We observe Saul as a sheepdog figure, one of many leading herds of bewildered people into what appears to be a changing room. An off-screen voice offers reassuring sentiments they are going for a shower and offers promises of what will follow. Our focus never leaves Saul’s face as we swiftly realise with unbearable inevitability what will happen next. We don’t see the people enter the gas chamber. We don’t see them die. But we do hear them die.

Rohrig’s performance is truly exceptional – his Saul is haunted and hollow. Grizzled by the unspeakable horror, his jaw is rigid with determination and his eyes are empty. We can only wonder how he keeps on living. The fact this is Rohrig’s first performance, as it is the director’s first feature, only adds to the remarkability of this film.

It is unbearably difficult to write this review – every word or phrase seems inadequate to fully describe the soul-altering experience of watching. It leaves you so numb you can no longer cry. Unlike any other Holocaust film there is nothing here to sweeten the devastating blow of watching this film – no beautiful musical score, no magical rescue and no story of redemption. It’s an intense and immersive experience with a the visceral immediacy it provokes that is ultimately necessary. Truly unforgettable.

five star

 

 

Miles Ahead

Posted on by Charlotte_Sometimes

The man, a fair bit of myth and a whole lotta legend

It what may be my favourite bit of description from the year so far director/co-writer/lead Don Cheadle describes ‘Miles Ahead’ as being a ‘metaphorical’ biopic of Miles Davies. Fact and fiction are rather skillfully blended to pay tribute to an incredible musician, a leader of the genre that should be called ‘social music not jazz’. For better or for worse (depending on your view) this is not a typical music biopic – it’s free from the cliches that come with it – instead favouring a magnificent mooch-like approach in exploring the lives and loves of a true musical legend.

It’s 1979 and Miles Davies (Don Cheadle) has been a recluse for five years. A rumoured comeback – not that Davies himself would call it that – is being heard on the grapevine. Having lost this muse Frances (Emayatzy Corinealdi) and his ‘lip’ thanks to self-medicating a variety of drugs, word gets around that Miles has actually recorded some new music – only he’s refusing to give it to his record label Columbia. That’s when Rolling Stone journalist Dave Brill (Ewan McGregor) literally comes a-knocking on his door. The attempted interview between the pair quickly descends into utter chaos – involving drug deals, shootouts, car chases, stolen records and a few trips into memory lane.

The greatest thing about this film is the fact that when watching it it is clear that you are watching a passion project. The adoration that Cheadle clearly feels towards Miles Davis pays off completely and shines through every mannerism or rasping of dialogue. Even when high as a kite or desperately searching for his next hit he is shown to be a true man of sharp-suited cool. And even when slightly darker sides of his personality come out – such as in the flashbacks of his relationship with Francis – he is still a character we can connect with even when we may not like him at that particular moment. His self-destruction is portrayed with such affection by Cheadle – it shines through his eyes in every scene.

The events of the film are mostly fictional, inspired by the past as opposed to retelling. It’s a unique touch, a very ambitious touch at that, and one which mostly pays off in how well it reflects its subject. This is also emphasised by the construction of the film, with neat little choices of direction allowing for the present to seamlessly blend into the past. It’s not typical ‘day in the life’ fayre, nor is it rise and fall narrative. Instead the film drifts, swaggers if you will, from one moment to the next.

Like Davis the film is smooth, if occasionally rather frustrating in terms of its storytelling. It is hugely enjoyable and incredibly well-acted. And, like the man himself, never boring.

stars 

Louder Than Bombs

Posted on by Charlotte_Sometimes

What happens to a bomb that doesn’t explode?

My response to this film is surprisingly (well it would be to my past self) problematic. If I had reviewed it soon after watching yesterday I would have been rather damning of the film. Now, with roughly 28 hours worth of distance from seeing it, I feel slightly warmer towards it. (Only a few degrees mind – let’s not go crazy). With a level of retrospect I can admire the ideas and ambition of the film, something which I wouldn’t have been able to do initially after watching. However, whilst I may feel softer towards it I am still not a fan and think the film is largely unsuccessful it what it wants to achieve.

Three years ago famous war photographer Isabelle Reed (Isabelle Huppert) died in what most believed was a car accident. Now, as a museum retrospective of her life and works is fast approaching, her close friend is about to write an article about her in the New York Times and as he advises her widower Gene (Gabriel Byrne) he will mention in the article the fact that her death was most likely suicide. Gene must now find a way of telling his youngest son Conrad (Devin Druid) the truth before he finds out through other means. An opportunity to do so arrives when eldest son Jonah (Jesse Eisenberg leaves his wife and newborn daughter to come home and help look through his mother’s work space to find photos for the retrospective. Whilst home Jonah must find a way of coming to terms with the past in the form of ex-girlfriend, his brother’s difficult present and how his future role as a father may be shaped by his relationship with his own. 

It’s interesting that through writing the above plot summary I found myself again warmly engaging with the key ideas of the film. All of us have been touched by some sense of loss and each of us will handle the grief in different ways – some may mentally stay in the past with that person whilst others may push such thoughts aside and stay primarily focused on the present and future.

All of the actors do a fine job in subtly portraying grief. Byrne’s father trying to do the right thing for his two boys whilst watching his relationships with both fade away truly pulls at the heartstrings and occasionally at the bone. Druid plays the difficult emotionally stunted teen finely and somewhat reflecting the universal horror of adolescence. As difficult as my audience-actor relationship is with Eisenberg (forgiveness for his version of Lex Luthor is still far far away) but at times I did appreciate his character Jonah. I can say quite honestly that in the film’s opening sequence I even enjoyed watching him.

But it’s Huppert’s grief that is perhaps the most visceral, even though it is she that is being grieved by the family she left behind. It is a roughly two minute sequence about halfway through the film that really demonstrates this. The camera just focuses on her face in close-up for two minutes. For those two minutes nothing else happens. But as we know her character and we know the emotional battles she suffered (between her art and being a mother/wife) we read the metaphorical scars on her face. We look into her eyes and see the utter despair. We look behind her mask in a way we either chose or are unable to do with each other in real life.

All of this being said I think these ideas are stunted by execution. Though the pontification and using on the nature of grief is extraordinary and truly applaudable, either through intention or accident we are unable to connect with any of the characters – all are pretty unlikeable on various levels and for various reasons. It’s this aspect of the film that will and has been truly dividing audiences. Perhaps it is intention – that grief cannot and should not be sugarcoated, sometimes it will bring out the worst in each of us. However I am in the camp that views this as a flaw and something that prevents me from truly connecting with the film.

Whilst I well and truly admire the film’s sentiments and ideas by borderline disdain for it’s characters stops me from truly appreciating its merits. The fact the film takes a rather poetic storytelling approach, of drifting between moments, of days being indefinable, of present day being interchangeable with memory, did was not cohesive enough for me. In some ways I write this paragraph with a degree of apology, as someone who lost a relative (my uncle) in June and will soon be facing the prospect of that first anniversary without him. Sometimes I reflect on whether I am grieving ‘properly’, if I am approaching my grief ‘healthily’ and if I am ‘normal’ in my response. The film carefully weaves these ideas into it’s narrative but somewhat abandons them in favour of artistic statement and style.

Whilst full of poignant moments the film is ultimately too cold and reserved to provide the cathartic intimacy it appears to wish to provide.

2 stars

Bastille Day

Posted on by Charlotte_Sometimes

Remove brain and enjoy the stupid

To put it simply, there is nothing clever about this film. It’s too po-faced about going about its business to be a parody even when the film really feels like it’s parodying ‘the maverick detective’ genre – our ‘maverick’ is even introduced via a CIA briefing where a prior report described him as ‘reckless and prone to violence’, he does things that are so against the rule book that he’s ‘own his own’ and he punches or shoots everyone he comes into contact with. Aside from this not a single character has any actual characterisation, each one simply remains a job title or character trait. Yet somehow, and if you really try not to think too hard, this film has enough charisma and talent to actually be rather entertaining… for the most part.

Zoe Naville (Charlotte Le Bon) is persuaded by the man she thinks she loves to walk into the office of a political party candidate after hours and leave behind a bomb. He promises her that it’s safe, the office will be empty and no-one will get hurt. When Zoe finds the office to be full of cleaners she ends up being stuck in the middle of Paris with a literal ticking time bomb. That’s when con artist and thief Michael Mason (Richard Madden) spots an opportunity and steals her bag without knowing the contents. After stealing her phone he drops the back of at a bin – time has run out and the bomb explodes. Michael survives but CIA surveillance now implicates him as the instigator of the bomb so they put their best rogue lone-wolf officer on the case, Sean Briar (Idris Elba). Once Mason proves his innocence and his masterful skill of pick-pocketing the pair team up to find out the truth and stop any further lives being taken by the terrorists, who are soon found to be part of the French police force. – but just how high up does this conspiracy go? 

Again, I reiterate, there is nothing genre-defying or genre-defining here. The plot is riddled with more bullet holes than actually feature in the film – which is really saying something as every single character appears to try to shoot their way out of every single situation. Considering the main issue at hand is terrorism there is nothing logical about how any of the involved parties handle the situation.  The terrorist use a hashtag for their exploits, which magically transforms all the citizens of Paris into Bastille Day warriors. I’m sure there are many social media advertising companies who would love to know their secret.

Their ‘secret’ may just be Idris Elba who genuinely saves this film from being utter dross. He manages to droll lines which are so poorly manufactured and cliche-ridden that other actor would need to do the whole ‘nudge-nudge wink-wink’ to the camera. Instead Elba can say utterly farcical fare in such a way that you still get the joke and can laugh at multiple people’s expense. His charisma and sheer screen presence make the film as enjoyable as it is. That and the fact the film is a lean 90-odd minutes, no plot device or scene out stays its welcome and there is more than enough action. If you can ignore the utter waste of Kelly Reilly‘s talent and some of the film’s complicated (read: flawed) ideas about numerous topics then you’re good to go. 

It’s cheesy and hackneyed and only saved by Idris Elba. But, if you make sure you switch off both your phone and your brain at the start of the film, then you’ve found an entertaining enough way to while away 1.5 hours.

2 stars