Short review: All Is Lost

(Dir: J.C. Chandor, 2013)

In the last twelve months there have been three films focusing on a single character stranded away from humanity. All Is Lost happens to be the best. Life of Pi bored with it's prolonged boy vs tiger nothingness and oppressive piety. Gravity managed to impart the sense of true isolation but in a scenario forever alien to anyone watching. Both relied on stunning visuals to tell and carry the story. All Is Lost feels rooted in a reality a long way from the fantastical and that makes it a more powerful watch. The man in this situation is more logical in his approach, maybe because he's better equipped, but he rarely shows fear or frustration and is able to improvise accordingly. This feels like a lesson in what you should do if ever lost out at sea.

Of course the real anchor is Robert Redford. He carries the film superbly in a near wordless role, dealing with the hand he's been dealt and coping as best he can. He's eminently watchable and helps ensure the film never drags or feels stretched out. The way it's shot enhances the feeling that this could happen to anybody and the storm scenes are gripping, edge of your seat stuff, whilst the loneliness and foolhardiness of heading out into the ocean alone ripples throughout, along with a sense of futility. The narrative never veers off course or gives cause to extrapolate on the man beyond what survival necessitates, meaning All Is Lost never loses itself or feels like it's overdoing things. This is a superbly crafted film that's a great watch from start to finish.

Review: Anchorman 2: The Legend Continues

(Dir: Adam McKay, 2013)

Let's get this out of the way from the start - Anchorman is the most overrated comedy of the century so far. That's not to say I dislike it or don't find it funny, I'd describe it as fairly funny and reasonably entertaining. It's certainly not the exemplar of 21st century comedy that many hold it up to be and I find the praise lavishly laid at it's feet to be pretty inexplicable. This is one of the most subjective genres after all. When it comes to comedy Will Ferrell doesn't seem to have too many strings to his bow, like Ben Stiller, Jack Black or Adam Sandler. They each seem to have one character they play, just with a different name, set of clothes and scenario in each film. It's variations on a rigid theme and when those characters are only so-so from the get go, it's easy to tire of them very quickly. Ferrell's Ron Burgundy is very much cut of this cloth.

This style of comedic characterisation, playing the likes of Ron Burgundy as the dumb, brash, narcissistic buffoon, has been done so much better in the past. There's no subtlety to a character like this, everything is forced or shouted and exists only on the surface. If we want depth we should look elsewhere. If we want variety, well we have his news crew to provide that and they almost always outshine. Steve Carrell's Brick takes dumbness to a point of interesting, willful obfuscation and Paul Rudd's Brian Fantana may seem like a single-minded lothario, but Rudd is always able to exude charm in the characters he plays. David Kirchner's Champ Kind rarely works however, just seeming too awkward. Burgundy is easily over-shadowed in this company as he's just not that funny. In fact he's pretty tiresome, regardless of how many of his phrases have entered the modern lexicon.

 

The setting of the Anchorman films is a strength as the seventies newsroom offers up the potential for much interest, yet it never feels fully exploited. In the first film this leads to a slightly awkward misogynistic angle to the story, which fits into the context of the era and setting, but are we supposed to find some of this stuff funny or just pathetic? The sequel has moved on from this and instead throws up casual racism which sits really uneasily and the only explanation for this seems to be that Burgundy is just an idiot. This should've been excised as it has no place. But then so should've a lot of elements of the sequel as it more than outstays it's welcome. A meandering story is not helped by nonsense like the incredibly unfunny lighthouse sequence. In a film like this less would definitely have been more.

If the first Anchorman is an OK film, the sequel is decidedly average. There are far fewer actual funny moments and many more misses, whilst it just plods on for too long. Inevitably the side men shine again, as do the cameos, but Ron Burgundy remains a tired and uncreative character that never needed to be brought out of retirement. Admittedly I find Will Ferrell to be a mostly uninspired, generic comedian who is at his best in films like Stranger Than Fiction where there's a sense of thoughtful creativity. If you loved the first Anchorman chances are you'll like this one a lot too, probably just not as much though.

Short review: The Hunger Games: Catching Fire

(Dir: Francis Lawrence, 2013)

It should come as no surprise that Catching Fire is a better film than the first Hunger Games. What is a surprise is that both of these films have been so damn entertaining. Where The Hunger Games succeeds over other teenage franchises is ideas - there is something going on here that's interesting and almost adult in nature. There's also a whole lot of world-building to be done in the great tradition of science fiction, which this seems to borderline be, and a central conceit that although essentially ripped off from the book / film Battle Royale, works by adding a different cultural spin that feels more relatable to modern times, even if that twist itself has been riffed on for many years. Catching Fire should be a better film as the hard-work establishing everything has been done, so a more developed story can now (in theory) be told.

Whereas in the first film the world-building and preparation was fascinating whilst the games themselves were a somewhat frustratingly drawn out toothless experience, Catching Fire ends up in the reverse position. The weak point of this film is the touring of the "special" couple and the flaccid romance between Katniss (Jennifer Lawrence) and Gale (Liam Hemsworth), but it comes alive again as soon as the prospect of a new games is upon us with a focus on politics and who can or can't be trusted. These games are instantly more interesting with a better premise and a touch more menace, with foes who actually seem like they might be dangerous. Also helping greatly are Donald Sutherland's President Snow, who gets a decent amount of time to snarl, and Philip Seymour Hoffman proving why he is an asset to every film he appears in. Lawrence and Josh Hutcherson remain likeable even if Katniss' brooding negativity gets annoying. At least we continue to have a strong female lead and the romance side of things is downplayed in the second half.

Catching Fire offers another couple hours decent entertainment and like the first film, I'm left wanting to know where this is all going. It may end suddenly but it probably happens at about the right point, and at least the film gets better as it progresses. There really is a lot of story potential here, but having heard from multiple sources what a mess the final book is, perhaps it's right to not hold out any hope for the last two films being as enjoyable.

Review: Oldboy

(Dir: Spike Lee, 2013)

Considering the reverence with which the original Oldboy is (justifiably) viewed, it'd be so very easy to get into a debate about the merits or otherwise of remaking foreign language films for Western audiences. But that's a tired debate. What is instead worth considering is when a genuinely creative and interesting director decides they want to take on a remake. That gives cause to pay attention and maybe expect a little more. Spike Lee may no longer be quite the visionary he was twenty or so years ago, but his presence always offered hope that Oldboy 2013 might have something to offer beyond tiresome retread. In fact this might've been a remake I'd have otherwise made no effort to watch had he not been involved.

On the one hand it's pleasing to say that Lee hasn't exactly screwed things up, but on the other, I can't see a single improvement in the vision he offers. The original Korean version is an unremittingly dark film, not just in the ideas it has, but in the execution. At times it feels like crawling along the floor of hell in a suffocating shroud of uncertainty. This is one of the appealing aspects of the film. Lee crafts a film that hints at darkness but it never feels insidious - perhaps that's one of the problems of a safe-seeming American setting compared to culturally alien climes. Josh Brolin's Joe is an extremely flawed man, someone needing redemption and direction, but his flaws are excessively hammered home. Brolin plays him well, but there's something almost too obvious about his character, almost as if he's written and played by numbers, a far far cry from Min-sik Choi's masterful performance. In fact the same rings true for almost all the characters. Elizabeth Olson, confident but dark past - perfunctory. Sharlto Copley, strange accent and near farcical awkwardness - a rote eccentricity. Samuel L. Jackson, mean son of a bitch with crazy hair - another variation of angry Jackson. Yet weirdly none detract. It's that kind of film.

In essence, almost everything from the original seems to be in place, but none of it works as well. Most notably the final denouement, which in the original is a savage multi-layered sucker-punch of epic proportions. Yet the remake decides to pare this down to not only be far less complicated and lose some of the point of it all, but when revealing the whole "process" makes far less sense due to too much reliance on chance. Not to mention that Copley's Adrian doesn't convince at all, a much lesser villain than Ji-tai Yu's Woo-jin Lee. For anyone who has seen the original none of this will generate the same reaction, but for those new to the story it will certainly have an impact. Again the same can be said when comparing the corridor fight sequence, one of the most iconic scenes from the original. There it's a realistically brutal and impressively staged fight in one continuous and beautifully tracked shot. This new version seems badly choreographed and lacking menace, like a dated action sequence. Symptomatic of the whole production really.

The remake of Oldboy could have honestly been made by anyone, with Lee failing to leave his fingerprints on it at all, which is a shame, but possibly the result of such strong source material. He seems to place more focus on why this is a flawed man who could be incarcerated for so long and lingers on his time there. Thus the quote "You can't find the right answer if you ask the wrong questions" seems apt. Yet it's a strangely enjoyable film despite it's numerous flaws and it's interesting to see how it has been reinterpreted to be American. This is a film probably best watched without any knowledge of the original, yet I would never ever recommend anyone watch this version first - to do so would be to rob them of one of the most jarring and darkly thought-provoking films of the century so far. Stick to the original, treat this as just a curiosity.

Review: Blue Is the Warmest Colour

(Dir: Abdellatif Kechiche, 2013)

"Love is a disgusting thing." That line from a song feels very apt. (The feral Hyperventilationsystem by Daughters is the song, if you're interested.) Love excites and thrills. It sets the body and mind into nonsensical convulsions of blind devotion. It doesn't ask for much other than to be constantly fed. Love inevitably hurts. It frequently decimates the soul leaving a feeling of insatiable and unreciprocated longing. Love is a disgusting thing and not everyone wins. Blue Is the Warmest Colour is an effective reminder of all this.

It's the story of a life and an awakening there within. There's a certain youthful coyness and uncertainty to our protagonist Adèle (Adèle Exarchopoulos). She's seventeen and thinks she knows what she wants in life, until something very unexpected throws her into turmoil - Emma (Léa Seydoux). This is a voyage of self discovery for Adèle, something best summed up by the literal translation of the original French name for the film - La vie d'Adèle. This is her life before, during and after love, writ over three hours of screen time (even if the international title is more intriguingly evocative).

The love that exists between the two seems to be on very different plains, perhaps most evident at the dinners they attend at each others parents. One seems like a carefree acceptance of the bourgeoise and a freeness to challenge previously held tastes. The other has a sense of restrained normality befitting a family with a seventeen year old daughter, with discussions of boyfriends and the like. One suggests freedom, the other undiscovered secrets. Adèle acts almost subservient to Emma at times, something she seems content to do and is the only way in which she seems to know how to deal with her pseudo-intellectual and artistic friends. But there's always a sense of unease for her, like she knows she's inferior and will never fit. She never holds the power and so her position in this love is always a risk.

The only time there appears to be equality is sexually, something the film graphically explores. Although one would imagine to see Emma as the teacher that never appears so - this is how the pair seem to truly connect and feel alive together. This is how their love shows through rather than every day domestic life as there are no social or intellectual imbalances. But sex can never be a panacea expected to fill the missing gaps in a relationship; nor can it solve problems of loneliness and emptiness as Adèle discovers. And so love is a disgusting thing.

These scenes may seem needlessly graphic but they show the core of their passion for each other and provide true context. Everything hinges on the believability of their relationship and both leads totally sell it. Exarchopoulos in particular is excellent. The focus rests on her and she convinces equally well with a youthful naïvety and pained longing. Both should be commended for the braveness of their performances when showing the true intimacy of love - it takes a lot for an actor to bare themselves with another in such a nakedly raw way. The film is shot to feel real with the camera moving as if it were an actual observer. At times there's an awkward obsession with close-ups but this is tempered with the occasional piece of beautiful framing - a close-up of the pair kissing, with the sun blinding through the gap whenever they briefly pull away, comes to mind. 

Blue Is the Warmest Colour hits hard like love should. The story remains fascinating despite the length and it seems almost impossible to come out without the feeling that despite their wonder and thrill, relationships just frequently end up being shit. If you're not careful they screw you over and leave you writhing in a desolate emotional agony - at least that's how Adèle seems to feel, no matter whatever else she does in her life. It's not a film everyone will like but it's a great piece of storytelling with superb acting, worthy of winning the Palme d'Or in Cannes this year. Recommended.

Short review: Gravity

(Dir: Alfonso Cuarón, 2013)

For a film with so many talking about it and so much written on it, there's surprisingly little to actually say about Gravity. It primarily works on a visceral level, pretty much on all levels - at times it feels like an emotional sucker-punch, particularly in the early scenes where Sandra Bullock's Dr. Stone realises her chance of clinging onto humanity is drifting away into the infinite nothingness. There's something of an elemental fear here, something which in reality none of us would ever experience, but the idea of it is pretty terrifying. This may sound like a spoiler but really it's the set up for the film and the trailer reveals as much, yet of course there is more to the story even if it feels like it's stretching itself far too thin as the film progresses, leading to a somewhat unsatisfying ending and moments of incredulity en route to this point.

But in a sense story isn't the point of the film - it's a hell of a visual and audio enhanced treat. What director Cuarón and Director of Photography Emmanuel Lubezki have done in terms of make us feel like we're in space floating above this planet, with a fluid constantly moving camera that rarely appears to cut away, is deeply engaging and involving. This enhances the isolation of being so far away from not only humanity but safety too. And of course the whole thing looks beautiful. The multi-directional sound only serves to enhance this, helping with the disorientation and suitably positioning the viewer in the astronauts shoes when required. It's true this should be seen on the biggest screen you can find; and if it's a big enough screen to be fully immersive then watch it in 3D.

Gravity is not a film without flaws but it's lean running time means it's shorn of excess which helps immeasurably, whilst Bullock is excellent and holds the film together. George Clooney should also get mention as the perfect actor to play an older, friendly but slightly cavalier astronaut on his final trip to space, adding a nice extra dimension. This is a thrilling, exceptionally well put together film that exemplifies what the cinema was built for.

Review: Strange Days

(Dir: Kathryn Bigelow, 1995)

"The question is not whether you're paranoid... it's whether you're paranoid enough".

This quote feels like the credence of Strange Days, a film perpetually overlooked as a mid-nineties classic. It was released at a time of impending technological wonder and freak-out, alongside the likes of Hackers, The Net and Virtuosity, but whereas that trio of films veered towards trashy entertainment and a caution that the internet could not just ruin your life but unleash a digital serial-killing Russell Crowe, Strange Days has always felt like it's imbued with something more. A fear of something big impending. A fear of how our history is inescapable.

Forward looking by only five years, but still enough to earn the tag of near future sci-fi, it's primary plot driver concerns a technology capable of recording and fully playing back human experience. The SQUID (Superconducting Quantum Interference Device) is worn on a users head, usually concealed under a wig or hat, recording onto mini-disc like "clips" all the sensory elements of that moment's experience ready for playback. Be it running along a beach or committing an armed robbery, everything is experienced in full first person perspective, as if the viewer is living it.

The idea behind this tech is fascinating. Surely we all live in a world where we'd love to experience things as other people do, not just for the alternative viewpoint but to live vicariously; to do things you never could or never would. Imagine if memories were not a hazy thought when you close your eyes but something you can relive over and over. How would that mean you approach life? Does everything you record thus need to be special or would you feel like you don't need to create new memories because you can live forever in the ones you already have? At the very least this seems to be what's afflicting lead character Lenny Nero (Ralph Fiennes) who can only hope to lose himself in these recorded memories of Faith (Juliette Lewis) as every attempt of winning her back from sleazily controlling Philo Grant (Michael Wincott) becomes increasingly detrimental to his health. Inevitably in this world the film has created, this tech is illegal.

From a societal standpoint, the setting of the film is critical. Set in the final days of the millenium as the clock is ready to tick over, there's a sense of fear and pending jubilation. The Los Angeles we see on film is ready to implode, with chaos seeming to rule on the streets, where violence eventually bleeds into ecstatic celebration. It's as if society can't believe it's actually survived this far and is still going, but the crossing of this threshold is the perfect time to reset the clock and wash away past transgressions. As it builds and eventually happens there's hope that it could be a genuine turning point, and the celebration we see on screen imbues this in us.

But can we really buy into the hope that things will change? The allusions to the Rodney King killing and the riotous incension of the public towards such tragic racism suggest that in this one city alone, there's a lot more to change than can be perpetuated by this one event. Everybody feels like they're on the edge and it could go either way. Technologically speaking there was always a fear of what 2K meant (the Millenium bug for example), but in Strange Days it's more in the vein of what are the implications of everything potentially being recorded in a way that's relivable? How does this technology empower a serial killer, or cause the police to react when they find out they've just been filmed crossing so far over the line that there's no way back? Sometimes technology is just a new way to make things worse. And yet eighteen years later we're now at a point where police are wearing cameras to put evidence beyond doubt, whilst people wear them for life logging. And what about Google Glass? It's taken time but this vision of the future is getting close, sensory recreation aside.

Fiennes holds everything together. Nero is an antihero, a black market dealer of clips, the magic man, the Santa Claus of the subconscious. He's a chancer who gets by abusing the good grace of his friend Mace (Angela Bassett) and forever living on the the edge of a beating or repossession of his life. Why should we care? His pathetic obsession with Faith, who clearly doesn't want him anymore, suggests this is probably the only true connection he's had with someone. Somewhere along the way he became damaged and his vivid reliving of memories show a world far away from the combustion that surrounds him. The well-weaved story by James Cameron throws him into a situation where it appears his world may crumble and we can but root for him as in reality he's just a misguided fool. Typical of Cameron, Mace is a strong female character who begrudgingly puts up with Nero's shit because she feels she owes him, whilst Lewis plays Faith in her usual manner of unrestrained intensity and sexuality. It's almost difficult to see why Nero's so ensnared by her. Philo by comparison just seems to care about power and so that means she is his, as Wincott's mellifluous purr make it difficult not to be entranced.

In recent years Kathryn Bigelow has been lauded for The Hurt Locker and Zero Dark Thirty, but by Strange Days she was coming off the fantastic run of Near Dark, Blue Steel and Point Break, with this fitting neatly into the slightly edgy but always superbly executed and visualised style she had set out before her. The breathless first person perspective scenes are testament to that for instance. It's difficult to imagine how a different director might've handled this story because she provides the necessary balance between social commentary, thriller, darkness and dystopian cyberpunk. I don't think Cameron himself would've done a better job. Strange Days may not be a revolutionary film, but it offers a thrilling and intelligent incision into a society raw from it's recent history and a fear of a new technology that could possibly set them free. This sets Strange Days apart as a piece of high quality filmmaking that incredibly remains a truly under-appreciated nineties classic.