Author Archives: Daniel McCarthy

Django Unchained | Film Review

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Quentin Tarantino is a filmmaker whose name and ego seems to precede his films by quite a substantial degree. Since bursting onto the independent scene with the fantastic Reservoir Dogs in the early 1990’s his reputation and title as a ‘saviour’ of contemporary American cinema has grown rapidly, winning an astonishingly loyal fan base and even coining its own phrase; ‘Tarantinoesque’ which commonly refers to the trademark motormouth and foul mouthed dialogue that he revels in. Yet for the admiration that has been heaped upon him, Tarantino has found himself under growing accusations of plagiarism, violence for violence’s sake and the inability to rein in his work, spiralling off in all directions and drawing out what are essentially ‘B-Movies’ into epic lengths. His latest, his long planned Western, is arguably guilty of all of these and yet is handled with such bravura and panache that when all is said and done there is no denying that whether for better or worse, you are at the mercy of a force of nature behind the camera.

 

Shortly before the outbreak of the American civil war, Django (Jamie Foxx) is freed from a chain gang by Dr. King Schultz (Christoph Waltz), a dentist turned bounty hunter who needs Django to identify a gang of outlaws he is hunting down. Quickly realising that Django has talent for the trade, Schultz forms an alliance to give him his freedom and rescue his wife Broomhilda (Kerry Washington) from the plantation she has been sold to. It is a journey that will take them across a surreal and profane landscape and ultimately to the doorstep of the extravagant and sadistic slave trader Calvin Candie (Leonardo DiCaprio) and his unnervingly loyal servant Steven (Samuel L. Jackson).

 

Tarantino has made no secret of his love of the Western genre (though he has referred to this new work as a ‘Southern’). Motifs and visual allusions to the classic Spaghetti westerns of the 60’s and 70’s adorn his previous films along with the now typically anachronistic use of music from Ennio Morricone to present day rap tracks and  everything in between. Django Unchained feels more like a sponge for pop culture than just a straight homage. That it works as well as it does is a testament to how horribly addictive Tarantino’s aesthetic is at its best. Profane soliloquies trip off the tongue, cameras swoop and crash zoom with grace and claret soaks the surroundings to a hysterically overemphasised effect. There is a killer in joke in which Franco Nero, the Italian superstar famed for playing the titular Django in a series of Italian westerns, meets his American namesake. The films setting, both historical and social, has brought controversy for Tarantino’s supposed fixation with racial epithets but the swerve and swagger on display as well as the overall theme of retribution puts aside accusations of racism on his part. As he did with Inglorious Basterds Tarantino has taken an idea (or at least a cinematic idea) of history that is emblazoned on our minds and has taken a switchblade to it and crafted a piece of postmodern beauty out of it (if beauty is the word you can use). He does this more effectively than he did in Basterds and in similar vein Kill Bill Vol.2 where he was indeed guilty of spinning off into a fan boy tangent and making the parts more than their sum. Whilst I do think the third act of Django could be tightened somewhat, it never becomes dull or trying. Long dialogue driven scenes, notably one set around a dinner table late on, throb with tension and a knowing wit. The payoffs are exceptionally enjoyable. It’s not just verbally that Tarantino excels; a jaw droppingly violent shootout stands next to the House Of Blue Leaves showdown in Kill Bill as proof he should be considered an action director of note.

 

Django Unchained also serves as a reminder for Tarantino’s other exceptional trademark; his ability to elicit magnificent performances from his ensembles. After the accolades he received for Inglorious Basterds it is no surprise to see Christoph Waltz reunite with the director and a joy it is to. He would seem to have been put onto this Earth for Tarantino’s words to have the pleasure of his delivery. His Schultz is savvy, charming, deadly, is smarter than everyone in the room and knows it. There is a line comically alluding to Schultz’s English being a second language. Whichever language which he delivers in (English, German or French) he remains masterful. Leonardo DiCaprio is clearly having a ball flitting effortlessly back and forth between comically debonair and psychopathic rage. Watch out for the scene where he loses his temper and smashes a glass with his hand. The result is not faked. Having spent many years playing the incredibly straight faced and dramatic lead, he proves a perfect foil for a more extravagant and comedic turn. Here’s hoping he plays to the advantage. Brilliant as these two are the films is very nearly stolen by Samuel L. Jackson as house servant Steven. The Uncle Tom from hell, balding, limping and in a constant state of bewilderment/silent rage Jackson relishes the ultimate in reverse stereotyping. It’s a role that if misjudged could have come across as extremely uncomfortable. Under his performance, it’s a scary and hysterical joy. Another larger than life performance could tip things too far over the edge yet Jamie Foxx wisely decides to play down any caricatures. His Django is a man of few words and big actions and when there are words they come like daggers. It’s a performance of quiet electricity.

 

Django Unchained is not perfect by any stretch. Part of me still would very much like to see Tarantino whittle down a project to under two hours and some of his choices of direction still raise an eyebrow. He casts himself in a cameo role with a bizarre and quite frankly terrible Australian accent that proves he should genuinely stay behind the camera than venture in front of it. Minor faults aside this is something of a comeback for Tarantino, ironic that he is considered the master of comebacks for actors. His devotees would argue he never went away but this is definitely in the upper tier and reminds you of his best. It’s like a shot of tequila; it burns the throat but the aftertaste is terrific.

 

The Master | Film Review

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Paul Thomas Anderson has a lot to live up to. By the time he was thirty years old he had Boogie Nights and Magnolia under his belt establishing him as the most talked about new American filmmaker of the 1990’s next to Quentin Tarantino. Five years ago his magnificent fifth picture, There Will Be Blood, was heralded by many critics as one of the finest, if not the finest film of the new decade. He has found himself being compared to the likes of Robert Altman, Martin Scorsese and even Stanley Kubrick as a new titan of American cinema. In cinefile circuits his new release The Master has been awaited with the sort of fan fever saved for comic book blockbuster adaptations. Interest has been particularly stoked since rumours circulated that the film would focus on the early years of the controversial religious sect Scientology and its mysterious founder L. Ron Hubbard. But nothing is ever as it seems. Anderson has sidestepped the obvious headline grabbing to deliver a film that is everything we expect from him; virtuoso, frightening, mysterious and with its heart on its sleeve.

It’s the end of World War Two and things are not right for Freddie Quell (Joaquin Phoenix). An alcoholic Navy Veteran, who has been left psychologically scarred by his experience in conflict and with an unhealthy lust for women, is sent into the civilian population and told that he and his like are now America’s future. Yet Freddie’s bad habits soon find him drifting from drink to drink, woman to woman and utter desolation. One night he drunkenly stumbles across the path of Lancaster Dodd (Philipp Seymour Hoffman), the self appointed leader of ‘The Cause’, a philosophical movement that claims to be able to cure ailments and trauma by recalling the past lives of individuals by billions of years. Dodd is fascinated by Freddie (and his homemade liquor) and invites him along with ‘The Cause’ entourage to spread the word across post war America. Though Freddie finds initial solace in Dodd’s teachings it isn’t long before doubts and scepticism rear their heads and a psychological tug of war begins between the two men.

From its fractured opening it’s clear that Anderson is playing to his own rules. Much talk has been made of the fact that the film has been shot in 65mm film stock and blown up into 70mm as opposed to the industry standard of digital filming and projection. I was lucky enough to see the film in its original stock format and found it well worth the effort. The texture and colours practically radiate off the screen whilst Anderson’s measured direction (in contrast to the frenetic nature of his early work) allows us to soak in the atmosphere in every long, meticulous take. This is once again accompanied by a stunningly unconventional score from Radiohead’s Jonny Greenwood that constantly wrong foots expectation yet completely puts you in the characters’ mindset. When it comes to the particulars of the narrative, Anderson is not one to speak down to an audience. There Will Be Blood was discussed as an examination of the birth of capitalism and commentary on America’s dependence on oil yet he never forces those ideas down your throat and he certainly doesn’t do it here. All the build up has focused round the Scientology issue but at its heart The Master is far more about the uncertainty of post-war America, a clash of class ethics (Dodd is the entrepreneur, Freddie the blue collar everyman), the horrors of post traumatic stress disorder and perhaps even a doomed platonic love between two outsiders attempting to find their way in a new world. Anderson has once again used an epic canvas to create a searing intimate portrait.

It is in the clash between Freddie and Dodd that the crux of the drama takes place. In terms of narrative it is the least constricted of Anderson’s work and so much responsibility lies upon Phoenix and Hoffman’s performances and it’s a responsibility they rise to tremendously. Opinion remains divided on Phoenix’s bizarre faux sidestep into being a rap artist but it’s great to have him back channelling the raw, dangerous and oddly charming energy that made his name. He is simply stunning as a man whose sheer facial expression alone speaks volumes about his character and what he has seen. He enters the frame a figure of snarling, contorted anger barely suppressed beneath the surface slurring words out of one side of his mouth refusing to confront the issues bubbling away within him. In one frighteningly surreal sequence, Freddie is brought along to a socialite dinner and physically resembles a wild animal that has somehow been forced into human attire. Brilliant, subtle touches (reaching out to a hostess’s necklace) add layers to the complexion and bring Freddie alongside the other brilliantly damaged souls of Anderson’s filmography. However ‘big’ Phoenix’s performance is, it is matched with a mercurial subtlety from Hoffman, who works as a perfect counterbalance to Freddie’s volatile nature. He manages to make plausible the idea that people can be drawn to such bizarre notions through a stunning portrayal of charming and infectious joie de vivre that make everyone gravitate towards Dodd and his teachings. However far from just a kind father figure (a recurring theme for Anderson) Dodd is capable of showcasing a spiteful darkness when his theories are criticised. His brief outbursts at dissenters are terrifying as they are short. Watching the two actors together is genuinely like watching lightening in a bottle and several scenes between them are as exciting and emotionally draining as any major action set piece from this year’s summer blockbusters. One scene recalls De Niro’s meltdown in Raging Bull as when both men are briefly jailed, they use their separate confines as the opportunity to rail against one another. Freddie hurls accusations of lies whilst Dodd repeatedly taunts him, ‘I’m the only one who likes you!’ For all of the films fractured, episodic nature it builds up to a surprisingly moving tale of a failed relation between the men. Their final scene, which would otherwise sound bizarre on page, becomes almost unbearably tragic. Though the film is dominated by the two male leads we also have a string of effective supporting performances most notably Amy Adams as Dodd’s ever present wife Peggy. Rapidly becoming a firm fixture on annual awards nomination lists, Adams wonderfully subverts her good, All-American girl image for something far more straight faced and even chilling. Though seemingly first merely a supportive arm to support Dodd, Peggy is gradually revealed to be far more akin to a Lady Macbeth of the story driving her husband on, urging him to go on the attack and in one telling (and quite scary) scene, displaying a sexual dominance over her husband before chastising his relationship with Freddie.

Anyone looking for easy or cathartic payoffs may very well be disappointed. There’s none of the raining frogs of Magnolia or descent into homicidal madness of There Will Be Blood. Instead Anderson chooses to end on a quieter and extremely ambiguous note. Dissenters will argue that the film ask more questions than it provides answers and question where it leaves the characters at the finale. I’m personally delighted to be confounded when the questions are this deep and the execution is this flawless. It arguably represents a maturity in Anderson’s style compared to his rapid multi stranded early epics. He is refusing to repeat himself and has cemented his reputation as one of America’s finest mainstream filmmakers. This is cinema at an absolute pinnacle and I cannot recommend it enough. I’m a devotee of The Master.

Argo | Film review

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Just under a decade ago, it seemed that it was nearing the end for Ben Affleck. Having climbed to immediate fame with an Oscar win for the script to Good Will Hunting and engaging performances in the films of Kevin Smith, Affleck appeared in several critical flops that tarnished the golden boy image. The most notable examples were Michael Bay’s excruciatingly saccharine war drama Pearl Harbour and the tonally misjudged crime comedy Gigli which occurred at the same time he found himself caught up in the hysterically inane media frenzy referred to as ‘Bennifer’. It seemed that the talent had been squandered and it was only a matter of time before he was swallowed up by obscurity, another casualty on Hollywood’s walk of fame. But some refuse to go down without a fight and over the last few years Affleck has slowly been building up his resume as not just an excellent actor but a filmmaker. His 2007 debut Gone Baby Gone won critical acclaim and the follow up The Town proved to be a solid if unremarkable effort that performed well with audiences. Affleck showcased an unfussy, clear and stark directorial style that convinced many that his future now lay behind the camera rather in front of it. Now he stars in and directs a new project that both (cautiously) bites the Hollywood hand that feeds but also offers up a true story that seems so unbelievable upon first listen but proves to be a fruitful subject for a thriller.

In 1979, the American embassy in Tehran was overrun by revolutionaries furious that America had given sanctuary to the recently exiled Shah. Over fifty American diplomats and military personal were taken hostage in a crisis that lasted over a year and saw a collapse in diplomatic relations between America and Iran and left geopolitical aftershocks that can still be felt today. The crisis itself kept the nation on tenterhooks yet the story here concerns something not made public at the time. Six Americans managed to escape the embassy before its downfall and took refuge at the Canadian ambassador’s residence. Realizing that their discovery would result in capture and possible death, the CIA struggled to come up with a plan to get them out of the country safely. This where Tony Mendez (Affleck) comes into the story. Having exhausted all other ideas, Mendez proposes an idea as bizarre as it is dangerous; they will pass the six off as a Canadian film crew scouting ‘exotic locations’ for a science fiction B-Movie called Argo including setting up a fake production company and a script to make the ruse as believable as possible.

From the opening shot of the classic seventies Warner Bros logo and through its tense, frenetic opening act it’s clear that Affleck has done his homework. Handheld cameras, saturated filters and even replicated scratches on the digital print all combine to make Argo appear to be a genuine political thriller made in the era of its setting. There’s a visual tone and atmosphere that recalls the likes of All The President’s Men and The Parallax View though certainly not without its own visual sheen that thankfully never becomes to on the nose. Affleck’s proven he’s got the gritty chops in his previous endeavours but what really impresses in this latest outing is his control over the tone of the story. It’s a work which crosses over the line between humorous incredulity and genuine life or death tension. The first half of the film is filled out with Mendez’s exploits in Hollywood as he recruits Oscar winning makeup artist John Chambers (John Goodman) and producer Lester Siegel (a scene stealing Alan Arkin) to painstakingly set up a production they have no intention of making. As Chambers puts to Mendez, ‘You want to come to Hollywood, flash some money and not do anything? You’ll fit right in!’ It’s playful, light satire that doesn’t stray into the more cynical depictions of Tinseltown we’ve seen in the past but it provides a sharp relief from the darker tones of the drama. Thankfully there is no awkward transition; when Mendez heads out to Iran the tone of tension and claustrophobia is simply unrelenting. Narrative events clearly drift into dramatic license toward its final set piece but when the execution is this good then that is forgivable. I was reminded of Ron Howard’s Apollo 13, a film that drew every bead of tension available from an inevitable conclusion.

Whereas in The Town Affleck seemed a little stiff in front of the camera, he feels much more relaxed here. He fits the dual role of spy and every day practical man rather well and sells the urgency of his character’s predicament without ever resorting to an over the top performance. A subplot involving Mendez’s separated wife and son feels quite unnecessary but is thankfully kept to a bare minimum. It is a film that favours its ensemble cast rather than one particular performer and this works all the better for it. Goodman and Arkin are a safe pair of hands and handle the comedic aspects of the Hollywood scenes with aplomb while Bryan Cranston is reliably grouchy in the role of Mendez’s CIA boss. If there is anyone to single out and praise it is the six who portray the American refuges. Established character actors rather than big name stars, they convey fear, resilience, scepticism and compassion that stays clear of melodrama and makes you genuinely care about their predicament and fate. Scoot McNairy in particular continues to build on a strong filmography that includes his superb turn in this year’s Killing Them Softly. Some commentators have criticised the films portrayal of Iranians, claiming it confuses the actions of the government with the general population and reduces them to a mass of simplified, chanting antagonists. I personally disagree with this; I found it much more even handed with sympathetic portrayals of certain characters and the grounding in historical fact. There is one wry scene where an Iranian official berates Mendez, undercover as a producer, for portraying Iran as ‘a land of flying carpets and snake charmers.’ There is certainly room for discussion though given the recent flowering of Iranian cinema in to western audiences and the complicated history between the two nations.

Argo is certainly not a classic but is an astonishingly well made, confident and brisk thriller that walks a fine line between its two sides of the coin and stands as Affleck’s most assured directorial work to date and a front runner for upcoming awards season. It will be fascinating to see where he goes next.

Killing Them Softly | Film Review

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Five years have passed since Australian filmmaker Andrew Dominik and Brad Pitt united for the magnificent Western drama The Assassination Of Jesse James By The Coward Robert Ford; a lyrical, revisionist take on what by all accounts had become an American legend. It was gorgeous, poetic and fell flat on it’s on its face at the box-office. The studio simply had no idea how to go about pitching it and it was left to die, the genius gone unsung. Now Dominik has picked himself up, teamed up with Mr Pitt once again and returned to a far more recent moment of American history; the economic downturn viewed through the prism of organised crime. Whilst not hitting the heights of their previous collaboration they have crafted a stark, powerful take on a genre that we think we know inside out and give it an astonishingly contemporary sheen.

It’s 2008. The economy is crumbling, Obama and McCain are gathering their supporters and two clueless street hoods (Scoot McNairy and Ben Mendelsohn) are roped into a raid on a mob protected card game. It’s run by Markie Trattman (Ray Liotta) who has already escaped punishment from criminal overlords for organising a heist on his own games. The plan is for Markie to take the fall for the raid second time round but due to the duo’s own incompetence they are soon pursued by Jackie Cogan (Pitt), a hitman sent to exact justice and restore order.  He has a very specific work ethic; he likes to keep his distance from his targets in order to avoid emotions getting in the way. He refers to this as ‘killing them softly.’ He decides to hire old colleague Mickey Finn (James Gandolfini) to help him adhere to this method, yet this proves to prove more challenging than he can imagine.

Dominik is working from a 1974 novel entitled Cogan’s Trade penned by George V. Higgins. The film retains a stark, minimalist visual tone that recalls the high watermark crime films of the seventies such as The French Connection and Scorpio. It’s a story that takes place in vacant lots, motel rooms and car parks bathed in grey, cold light. It is an environment that feels left behind by the modern world and that we don’t often see in mainstream American cinema. In certain shots, the desolate wasteland resembles something out of a sci-fi apocalyptic vision. Dominik keeps his directorial flourishes to a minimum favouring stationary camera angles and carefully choreographed tracking shots to balletic displays of violence though he does concede to one hauntingly beautiful shootout in the rainfall. Not that any of it is pretty; this is a film where death and violence is an ugly, horrific spectacle. Dominik contrasts such moments perfectly with an uncanny feel for the timing and pitch of each individual scene. His prowess as a writer is the primary one on display though. The action is driven by lengthy, dialogue heavy scenes where in the characters confront the unpleasantness and banal mundanity of their profession. The major factor of the adaptation is the running references to the economic meltdown of the time and the then optimistic promises of the Obama administration. Speeches and news broadcasts that have barely had time to pass into history seep through radio and television broadcasts in the background of crucial scenes.  This does come close to becoming repetitive and forceful yet it instils the narrative with a moral backbone that many of its characters lack and forms a crucial part of what elevates the film from being a run of the mill gangster drama to a scathing critique of capitalist greed. The will of the powerful is broken, and it is left for the people on street level to pick up the pieces and clear up the mess.

Gangsters and hitmen tend to be the sort of characters that are romanticized in the majority of crime cinema that we are exposed to so it’s tremendously fresh to see them presented as repellent, incompetent bringers of their own fates. Pitt is a performer who seems to be getting better and better with age and here Dominik has coaxed another career best from him.  His Jackie Cogan may appear more suave and charming than his counterparts; he strolls onto screen with slicked back hair, a leather jacket and shades to die for and to the sounds of Johnny Cash yet he is thoroughly amoral and brutal.  Scenes where he quietly threatens a local hood at a bar whilst contemplating the hypocrisy of America’s founding fathers positively throb with underlying menace.  He is simply an electrifying presence. McNairy and Mendelsohn excel at making two seemingly irredeemable screw-ups sympathetic for the majority of the running time. If there’s one performance that steals the film however, it’s Gandolfini. Shuffling onto screen with a hangdog expression, immovable sunglasses and the weight of the world on his shoulders, the onetime Tony Soprano gives a tour de force presenting a onetime respected New York mobster as a shambling, train wreck of a man drowning in a sea of alcohol and prostitutes. Scenes where he rails against the younger generation whilst exhibiting the excess and degradation that a life of crime has inflicted upon him echo with grim, comic tragedy that relish in the destruction of typically macho, masculine persona. As with past films of Dominik’s there are virtually no female characters to speak of and when they are spoken of it’s in the most deplorable ways imaginable. I don’t think it’s a fault on his part but rather an apt reflection of a thuggishly brutal world were desperate men struggle to climb over one another to stay afloat.

Killing Them Softly may come on quite strong at moments but it ultimately emerges as refreshingly cynical, relevant thriller that sticks to its guns right through to its brutally honest final line. Hopefully on the basis of this, we will not have to wait so long for Dominik’s next effort.

 

Cosmopolis | Film Review

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Canadian director David Cronenberg is still perhaps best known for his extreme horror cinema of the 1980’s such as Scanners, Videodrome and The Fly where the line between graphic body horror and examinations of his characters psychology. In recent years the psychological aspects of his work have come more to the fore and some may say it appears more conventional, most notably his recent works with Viggo Mortensen. Now he unites with young superstar Robert Pattinson for an adaptation of Don Delillo’s 2003 novel Cosmopolis. Expectations are high not just for the auteur’s new work but also but many are keen to see if Pattinson has the acting chops to pull of such an awaited film in the critical community. Cosmopolis certainly cannot be described as conventional but there may not be a lot of overly positive things to say about it…

Pattinson plays Eric Packer, a 28 year old financier working for ‘The Complex’ with millions at his disposal and divorced from society, who decides on a whim to travel across New York City, in his hi-tech, sound proof stretch limousine for a haircut. His security officer warns him that the arrival of the President, resultant crowds of protesters and a possible threat against his life make such a journey a potential hazard. Packer is resolute on his decision and what sounds like a simple journey spirals into a surreal odyssey as he cruises through an urban landscape populated by angst ridden colleagues, his distant wife, financial doomsayers, revolutionary protesters and a cream pie wielding anarchist. No, really.

Cronenberg’s direction is astonishingly precise to the point of extreme alienation. Taking place almost entirely within Packer’s science fiction like limo, his camera rarely has room to manoeuvre and instead we slowly glide across the cold, metallic surfaces that constitute this character’s life. CGI backstreet projection in these scenes creates a heightened sense of artificiality that mirrors Packer’s attitude to life. There are echoes of American Psycho in the fetishist style the camera roves over his material wealth. When we venture outside the limo hired from tampa charter buses, there is still an achingly claustrophobic feel to the urban environment. It’s a director at the height of their technical skills and yet it is in the cold, distant approach that Cronenberg observes the drama is that Cosmopolis makes its major stumble; the lack of emotional and visceral connection.

It is the dialogue that drives Cosmopolis, adapted by Cronenberg himself. Practically every scene is dialogue driven with characters spieling into lengthy, philosophical monologues about the world of finance, yuppie culture and in some circumstances whatever seems to come into their heads (‘Why do they call them airports?’). These lines are delivered with a very precise rhythm and arcane structure that very quickly becomes impenetrable despite occasional flashes of brilliance. There is little fault in the performance. Robert Pattinson could be blamed of making a very deliberate attempt to distance himself from the Twilight crowd, but his performance itself is fine. The camera is clearly drawn to his handsome features, he has cold and detached down to a tee and even performs gamely in a wince inducing medical examination scene, which closely recalls the director’s back catalogue of body horror. However Packer is such an empty ‘vessel’ that it’s impossible to drum up any sympathy at all for him. Where is he going? What does he want? What does he think? Questions are constantly answered but rarely answered. At one point he is directly quoted St Augustine; ‘I have become an enigma to myself, and therein lies my sickness.’ The problem is that the enigma never reveals itself and the sickness is never understood. It all becomes lost as he ventures from one bizarre set piece to another. I truly don’t think the problem is with Pattinson’s performance but rather through Cronenberg’s writing and direction of him.

The supporting cast are left to fare little better. Juliette Binoche and Samantha Morton pop up briefly into the limo to discuss Packer’s situation yet are not afforded rounded characters to flesh out. Sarah Gadon is alluring as Packer’s distant wife yet again there is such a sense of distance between them that it seems like their relationship is taking place on either side of a massive piece of perplex. You could argue that it’s the point yet no empathy still results in no emotional connection. Thankfully Mathieu Amalric is bursting at the seams with dangerous glee as a seemingly demented celebrity anarchist whilst the great Paul Giamatti very nearly steals the whole show as a disgruntled former employee of ‘The Complex’ who harbours an obsessive grudge against Packer. His ranting speech towards the end of the film makes him the closest thing to a recognisable human being we can see with the final shot and lines of dialogue hinting at how Cosmopolis could have been a devastating account of our contemporary attitude to material wealth and the Wall Street elite. Unfortunately it’s too little too late.

Cosmopolis is not terrible by any standard, but given the subject matter and the calibre of talent it can’t help but rank as a major disappointment and one of Cronenberg’s least satisfying films. Pattinson may have proved he has the chops but he’s going to need to find something more resolute to prove to everyone he is the real deal after all.

Moonrise Kingdom | Film Review

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It’s 1965, and we’re on New Penzance Island off the cost of New England. The turbulence of the nation is far away, there’s a storm on the horizon and young love is in the air which has the adults in a fit. This island is the latest whimsical destination of Wes Anderson, the pin up director of commercially successful American independent cinema who has built a loyal fan base since the late 1990s with one of the most unique and recognisable styles in mainstream cinema today.

On said island Anderson introduces us to young Khaki scout Sam and intelligent yet isolated Suzy (newcomers Jared Gilman and Kara Haywood), two twelve year olds who meet by chance and instantly fall for one another. Hated by his fellow scouts, Sam has no hesitation in stealing several camping supplies, quitting the troop and absconding with Suzy who insists on bringing a record player, a Francoise Hardy LP and her collection of science fiction novels. Suzy’s unhappily married parents (Bill Murray and Frances McDormand) are furious and join in the search party led by sad sack Police Captain Sharp (Bruce Willis) and Scout leader Randy Ward (Edward Norton). Time may not be on their side however as the ominous shadows of a hurricane and ‘Social Services’ () bare down upon New Penzance…

From the very opening we clearly are in ‘Wes World’. A gorgeous tracking shot through the elaborate set of Suzy and her family’s home highlights many if not all of Anderson’s directorial flourishes. The very particular framing of the camera and its movement, the positioning of actors and their props, the autumnal colour scheme and frequent overhead shots of hands and key items have defined his style over seven films. I also really admired the incredibly retro titles which even have the traditional serial number beneath the title. His understanding of mise-en-scene (‘what’s in the frame’ for the film buffs) is immediately recognisable and marks him out as one of the few directors working today whom you could instantly recognise from a single frame and Moonrise Kingdom is no exception. His critics accuse him of being to forced in his style and becoming an obstruction to the narrative yet I personally applaud a director who is able to make a film that is clearly their own and can be recognised as a true auteur in the industry.

Anderson is also highly regarded for his skill at marshalling ensemble casts and here he has amassed yet another fine one. Bruce Willis and Edward Norton have a lot of fun subverting their typical ‘dark’ image with fine take on desperate, straight man against the world vibe and it is the former who has the most fun in the role. It could be seen that Willis is deliberately referencing to his back catalogue since he is playing a police officer yet he seems to be playing more to his skills as a comedic actor in the days before Die Hard. The sight of him roaming around the landscape in a beat up station wagon with a bad toupee and Hank Williams crooning away on the soundtrack makes it hard to suppress a chuckle. Previous Anderson stalwarts Bill Murray and Jason Schwartzman tackle their material well and prove further to be the perfect foil for the dry, witty humour. I wish the same could be said for the female performers of the story. Frances McDormand is a brilliant actress and always a joy to watch yet here the role of Suzy’s mother she is not given enough material to form a satisfactory character arc; a sub plot involving an extramarital affair is wrapped up with a mere shrug. Also the magnificent Tilda Swinton is introduced a bit too late into the story to create a fully convincing antagonistic force though I couldn’t help but giggle every time she referred to herself in the third person as ‘Social Services’.

Thankfully it is in its key casting that Moonrise Kingdom truly scores. As the young couple, Gilman and Haywood are simply fantastic and carry the entire film effortlessly. At first their actions appear hopelessly naive yet this is undercut with genuine pathos of young love. There is a deliberate attempt on behalf of the writers to juxtapose the simplicity of their courtship against the dour complexity of the adults of the island. The films setting at a time when this part of America had not yet experienced the turbulent times that would reverberate through the nation’s history is offset with quaint and quiet charm that is genuinely beguiling and in the case of the young love story, quite moving. There is a yearning for a way of American life that simply does not exist today and there is a constant air of slight melancholy running throughout. As the social outcasts discover surprising truths about one another, Anderson focuses on the minuet details of their romance that steadily grow on you and pay off very well indeed.

His critics may complain, but Wes Anderson fans will be on cloud nine with this one and with good reason. With his typically assured style and charm and wit to spare, this easily stands amongst his best work. I personally cannot wait to see what he does next and will always be first in line to enter ‘Wes World’…

The Raid | Film Review

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A few years ago, Welsh filmmaker Gareth Evans admits he was slipping into docile conformity. Having made a few well received shorts and a self financed feature, he was losing his interest in filmmaking and easing into his 9 to 5 job. His supportive wife passed his name forward to producers in Indonesia who were looking for outside filmmakers to make a documentary about martial arts. Fast forward a few years and a trip to Indonesia and he is now the leading force behind one of the most hyped and critically acclaimed action thrillers of recent years and with good cause. Lean, mean and apocalyptically violent, The Raid has come straight out of Asia’s left field to huge acclaim on the festival circuit and is set to be a genuine international crossover hit.

Rama (Iko Uwais) is a rookie SWAT officer in Jakarta who joins an elite team assigned to launch an assault on a crumbling apartment complex ruled over by ruthless drug lord Tama (Ray Sahetapy). No assertions are made about good/bad guy from the off. Rama is introduced bidding farewell to his pregnant wife promising to return, Tama executing kneeling prisoners with a hammer. The team head into the building to take him out of business for good yet things do not go to plan. Tama has rented out the majority of apartments to the cities vilest thugs, junkies and killers and has them dispatched after the team. Outnumbered and outgunned, it’s up to Rama to lead as many of his teammates to safety as possible. This however cannot be achieved without shooting/hitting/stabbing dozens of bad guys in the face…

Taking place almost entirely within the confines of the complex defined by its rotting, yellowish hue the proceedings are astonishingly claustrophobic throughout the 100 minute duration. There is always the constant threat attack from a corner or any one of the dozen flat doors on each floor. Even in its ‘quiet’ moments there is an underlying level of tension that never truly relents. Many scenes feel like a more pumped up version of John Carpenter’s seminal 70’s siege thriller Assault On Precinct 13. From the opening scene we are thrown right into the situation feet running on the ground. It’s a work of sparse immediacy, knowing exactly what it is and getting it done. Needless to say when the chaos starts the events are unremitting; gunfire echoes become deafening, bad guys come like space invaders sometimes literally bursting from walls, ceilings and floors to be swotted away by our heroes. As the action becomes hand to hand combat, the fight scenes flurry past with such violent ferocity and pace that it becomes overwhelming at many points.

Uwais is an astonishing physical presence; punching, kicking, jumping and smashing his way from floor to floor and doing away with constant foes coming at him like waves of video game enemies before facing down the inevitable ‘boss’ battles. He is proficient in the art of silat, Indonesia’s native martial arts and the experience of seeing it for the first time is breathtaking. The visceral joy of watching Uwais in action reminded me of the first time I saw Thai superstar Tony Jaa in Ong-Bak and his brutal kickboxing fighting style. Barely five minutes pass without bones splintering and the audience wincing in unison (especially during an inspired use for a shard of broken lighting fixture…). Uwais moves are perfectly complemented by Evans deft choreography. In an age of whiplash camera moves and frenetic editing that makes things harder and harder to follow, Evans deserves special credit for keeping the action paced yet never to the point where he loses his players movements. His camera races down hallways with characters and in some bravura moments: follows his characters as they drop through holes in the floor and tumbling down a staircase whilst still trading blows with someone.

Whilst revelling in the chaotic glory of what The Raid delivers, you do have to keep in mind that it is treading ground that has been walked on before. Evans has happily admitted his influences in press for the film and his execution is what truly makes it stand out. Yet the clichés of the genre are impossible to ignore and when they begin to tip into melodrama it does regrettably stall the film. Without giving anything away, there is a subplot involving one of Tama’s henchmen (Donny Alamsyah) that upon its revealing does just not ring and does briefly threaten to bring all proceedings to a shuddering halt. It feels almost unfair to try and criticise a film for attempting some form of character development yet here it falls flat and feels forced. In its defence, it may be setting up for the planned sequel and it does lead to the films brutal, brilliant final confrontation with Rama’s right hand man played by Yayan Ruhian, also one of the films fight chorographer, who truly gives Uwais a run for his money. There’s no satisfying pay off for Rama’s subplot itself. There is much dialogue alluding to police corruption and ties between them and the drug lord yet if anything it just fuels stock cliché dialogue between the many fight scenes. The final climactic set-piece can’t help but feel frustratingly ant-climatic.

However these are minor quibbles against a film that knows where its strengths lie and what its audience have come to see. It’s brutal, fast, and hits you like a blast of fresh air in the face. Evans and his team have managed to come out of nowhere and outdo the majority of Western action films of recent years. Of course an English language remake has already been green lit but I severely doubt it can come close to hitting the sheer adrenalin rush of the genuine article. Savour this one while you can, and take a deep breath first.

CANNES 2012 PREVIEW

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The most prestigious and coveted film festival on the planet is upon us as filmmakers, stars and journalists descend on the southern French seaside resort to view and critique some of the most anticipated films of the year. Of course I cannot be going myself; the rigour of the festival is said to drive even the most dedicated of film journalists to the edge let alone a beginner. But I can definitely cast my eye over the selection and pick ten of them that have caught my and other cinefiles eyes. Some of these have confirmed UK release dates, others do not. Either way the calibre of these titles should see them generating plenty of buzz before their arrival on these shores.

MOONRISE KINGDOM

The seventh feature from the king of idiosyncratic American indie cinema Wes Anderson is a period piece set in the mid sixties following two runaway teenagers in love and the haphazard search party that sets out after them. Anderson stalwarts Bill Murray and Jason Schwartzman are joined by newcomers Bruce Willis, Edward Norton and Frances McDormand to name a few. Anderson’s exceptionally detailed, designed and witty directorial style may not be to all tastes but for fans of his work this is set to tick all the boxes.

LOVE

Austrian master of discomfort Michael Haneke returns to France for a tale of a couple who must care for the wife’s elderly parents. French acting legend Isabelle Huppert appears alongside William Shimmel of the magnificent Certified Copy in what would appear to be a more gentle approach for Haneke. Those familiar with his work however, will be prepared for terrible things to happen.

KILLING THEM SOFTLY

The Assassination of Jesse James was one of the most criminally underrated films of recent years so hopes are high for director Andrew Dominik and star Brad Pitt’s reunion in this gritty crime thriller about an underworld investigation into a card game heist co starring Sam Shepard, Richard Jenkins, James Gandolfini and Ray Liotta. Pitt appeared in last year’s big Cannes winner The Tree Of Life. Can he make it two in a row?

COSMOPOLIS

Robert Pattinson has the hearts of millions of Twilight fans and now we find out if he can win critical acclaim in Canadian maestro David Cronenberg’s twisted thriller about a young elitist yuppie travelling across New York City for a designer haircut and getting caught up in a dystopian, cultural revolution. Imagine a science-fiction take on American Psycho.

GRANDMASTERS

Wong Kar- wai has had glory at Cannes before with his visually lush and unconventional takes on traditional genre features with In The Mood For Love and Chungking Express. Now he turns his fine eye to a classic martial arts tale (based on the Ip Man series) with Asian superstar Tony Leung pulling all the moves.

RUST AND BONE

Jacques Audiard is known for his poetic yet brutal dramas such as A Prophet and The Beat My Heart Skipped. Hopes are high for this dramatic tale of a marine park worker crippled in an accident who finds solace with an immigrant bouncer. The magnificent Marion Cotillard plays the lead and after being sadly relegated in recent American roles she may have to clear space next to her first Oscar for La Vie En Rose…

LIKE SOMEONE IN LOVE

Abbas Kiarostami is a master of blurring the line between fiction and cinematic construct and recently had glory at Cannes with Certified Copy. Here he heads to Japan, focusing on the relationship between an aging academic and a student side-lining as a prostitute. Whatever the context of their relationship the director’s previous work dictates that appearances can be deceiving.

ON THE ROAD

Jack Kerouac’s seminal road journey novel has been rolling around studios for years and now Walter Salles of the excellent road movie The Motorcycle Diaries turns his attention to the tale of two young men making their way across fifties America. Sam Riley of the the brilliant Control appears alongside Kirsten Stewart, Kirsten Dunst, Viggo Mortensen, Elisabeth Moss and Steve Buscemi. For the cast alone this is a must see.

LAWLESS

Reminiscent of his gritty western The Proposition, Australian director John Hillcot’s latest is another tale of outlaw brothers (here in prohibition era America) whose familial bonds are pushed to the limit by the pursuing lawmen and each other. Again this is a stellar cast; Tom Hardy, Guy Pearce, Jessica Chastain and Gary Oldman to name just a few.

THE ANGEL’S SHARE

Britain’s poet of the people Ken Loach is another Cannes stalwart and this appears to balance the mix between gentle humour and gritty realism of his previous work and concerns a young tearaway who finds a chance at redemption and success in the surprisingly sophisticated world of whisky brewing and selling.

The Cannes Film Festival runs from 16 May to 27 May.