La Grande Bellezza (2013)

A lot of life is spent searching for the Great Beauty, and here this search is seen through the eyes of the famed Italian journalist Jep Gambardella. Brutal in his honesty, he shatters the delusions of grandeur held by the other high art celebrities of Rome. This upper class cynic is made wholly likeable by actor Tony Servillo, whose cheeky grin and piercing gaze has you in his pocket from the very beginning. His sombre observations of beauty in the everyday quirks and mysteries of life brings forward the fragmented memory of his first love, and with it his gradual recant into writing.

The ponderous tone of the film is set by a wonderful prelude showing a women’s choir looking down on a group of Japanese tourists from the balcony of a great Roman temple like Gods on Mount Olympus, singing the beautiful piece I Lie by David Lang. The portrayal of beauty in the film often leans on breathtaking compositions such as John Tavener’s adaptation of the William Blake poem The Lamb, and Arvo Part’s rendition of the Robert Burns poem My Heart’s In The Highlands, but there are other tricks up director Paolo Sorrentino’s sleeve.

The cinematography incorporates slow, steady crane shots that swoop across ancient streets, gardens and grand halls. The supporting cast is great across the board, as is the script which helps keep the fairly placid plot of the film captivating. Something that I particularly loved in this film was the use of colours; the crisp scenes were softened by a delicate and subtle pallet that emphasised this search for the great beauty. The setting of Rome is the perfect crucible for the story, and provides a dramatic backdrop to the film.

As someone who was initially naive to the prowess of Sorrentino, I have now caught up with his previous work and would definitely consider this film a triumph of his, and truly a stunning move in the direction of cinema as art. I would highly recommend this film to anyone.

Ernest et Célestine (2012)

This 2012 French animation has quickly found its way into my top ten favourite movies – it truly is one of the most heartwarming films I’ve ever seen and I loved everything about it. Based on a series of children’s books that follow an unlikely friendship between a little mouse named Célestine (Pauline Brunner) and a big bumbling bear named Ernest (Lambert Wilson), the film is a charming depiction of a friendship between an unlikely couple.

The animation directly mirrors the work that Belgian illustrator Gabrielle Vincent displays in the books, and is so so beautiful. The soft pastel watercolours are combined with spot detailing that gives every frame an element of spontaneity and uniqueness, something that I find is often lost in computer animation. Some of the most stunning scenes are the landscapes; a particular favourite of mine is when Ernest and Célestine are down by the river, and as it begins to rain, have to rush back to find shelter. The scene is filled with colour and movement and is mesmerising to watch. Furthermore, the plot allows the animators some time to simply flex their skills, as illustrated in the diversion from the narrative during an interlude of Ernest playing his winter song on the violin, or during Célestine’s surreal dream sequence.

Both of the main characters have their own unique style of animation that allows their multifaceted personalities to shine through. Everything about Ernest seems vast and magnified, ensuring that he assumes the role of the reluctant comedian. His expressions range from a huge cheeky grin that takes up the entirety of his face, to a caring, inquisitive look where his mouth disappears almost completely. I love that since Célestine is so small, and therefore has less surface space for the animators to work on, her character is more illustrated through her body movements; the thumping of her little feet against the wooden floor, the slump of her shoulders and the tilting of her furry head all combine to create an irresistibly adorable yet lively and compelling female protagonist.

In fact everything about little Célestine is in direct contrast to the lumbering Ernest, which is one of this films great qualities. It portrays a relationship which is not based on common attributes, social standing or interests but rather a sense of completion and worldly kinship which is much more realistic and powerful to behold.

Even though the film is based on a series of children’s books, it is equally enjoyable for adults, and there is a lot of clever satire underlying the simple plot and slapstick humour. The voice-acting is sharply delivered and never condescending, without going so far as to alienate young viewers. The harmless mischief that helps kindle the friendship between Ernest and Célestine causes both mouse and bear societies alike to explode into a hysterical thirst for vengeance, and brings attention to the nonsensical prejudices that underly society. They prove their case for the importance of acceptance, and expose the malice of the justice system.

I would wholeheartedly recommend this film to anyone; it is so refreshing to watch a film that doesn’t revel in sadness, but rather strives to leave the audience feeling happy and joyful!

Captain Phillips (2013)

I went into this film with fairly low expectations, and I was pleasantly surprised; Captain Phillips is a great movie!

It is based around the real life pirate hijacking of an American cargo ship in Somalian waters that took place in 2009, and stars Tom Hanks in the lead role, Captain Rich Phillips. The fact that the film was based on a true story was definitely something that drew me to the film, and adds a great deal of tension and suspense.

Hanks is brilliant as Captain Phillips; he begins the film very understated and quiet, however due to the increasingly difficult situation within which he is placed, Hanks has room to stretch and flex his acting prowess, reaching incredible heights by the end of the film, particularly in the last 15-20 minutes. Similarly, Barkhad Abdi makes his cinematic debut with a powerful performance as the young leader of the Somalian hijackers, Abduwali Muse. Abdi seems to entirely inhabit the role, and exercises his abilities to illustrate the great range of emotions that Muse inhabits throughout the ordeal. The combination of his painfully thin body and exaggerated facial expressions ensure that he captures the adrenaline-pumped fury of the young Muse with complete loyalty.

Something that is partially down to the acting capabilities of Abdi, but also due to the tone and style of the filmmaking is the way that the movie is not entirely damning of the Somalian pirates. By a combination of extreme close-ups and a focus on the chaotic communication between the hijackers, director Paul Greengrass emphasises the innocence of these young men, all of whom are between 17 and 19 years of age, and injects a vein of sympathy for the attackers that could easily have been utterly ignored by perhaps a more aggressively American film. I loved that although it was clear who was right and who was wrong, I could still resist from wishing death upon the pirates, and could share the loss with Muse when his friends are killed. The final shots of Muse completely point the audience in this direction; finally a steady shot of the young man allows the view to really see the fear behind his eyes, and to understand that he is also a victim; the victim of a lifestyle that many youths are swept into in Somalia, and from the moment he boarded the cargo ship, he had no option but to fight for his own life.

There is a constant, pacy rhythm to the editing which helps build tension up to unbearable levels. This is particularly impressive in the second half of the film which keeps this bullding tension despite the small enclosed setting. A well structured script and jittering score help ramp up the suspense. The shaking cameras give a quivering excitement to the motion picture without leaving you seasick; Greengrass is famous for his use of handheld shaky cams, particularly in his work on the Bourne franchise. This aspect of the cinematography really ramps up the realism and gives the film a strong sense of immediacy.

The detail of the realism is extremely interesting to behold, from the short snippets of domestic life, to the protocol and conditions of the ships, to the high-tech naval ships that arrive later in the film and their extensive hostage policies. It is perhaps most enthralling to see the contrast between the living and working conditions of the two main characters before their paths cross, giving extensive background information on them both before the thriller atmosphere of the hostage negotiation is underway.

Overall, I thought it was a great film that covered such an interesting event with a compassionate but urgent style that guarantees to keep you on the edge of your seat!

12 Years A Slave (2013)

I was pretty excited for this; I loved the first film that Steve McQueen and Michael Fassbender collaborated on, Hunger, considering it one of the best films of 2008, however I hated their second project, Shame, so when I saw the trailer for 12 Years A Slave, I was relieved to see that McQueen was going back down the historical route.

My overall opinion on this 2013 picture is that it was beautiful; I absolutely loved it. By no means an easy film to watch, it maintained an atmosphere of greatness throughout, not just because of the way that it was made but because it was made at all. Slavery is something that we all learn about at school and universally condemn throughout the western world, however the white American participation in the slave trade is an aspect of history that is often swept under the rug. This film is one that is unapologetic in its portrayal of this brutal part of American history; unsurprisingly, it takes a non-American director to produce such a film! Furthermore, it is interesting that the two most prominent slavers (Edwin Epps and William Ford) in the film are depicted by European actors (Michael Fassbender and Benedict Cumberbatch, respectively); it seems that white American actors still struggle with the idea of embodying such a dark and shameful aspect of their ancestry. This long evaded subject is what really makes the film unique; McQueen forces the viewer to watch elongated scenes of torture and abuse, that could arguably be shortened, however the point of this film is not to censor things and elude to the treatment of slaves, it is to expose and provoke response to these terrible forgotten crimes.

If I had to narrow down my favourite aspects, I would choose the cinematography and the performances of the primary cast members. As the lead role, Chiwetel Ejiofor is flawless. He completely embodied the character of Solomon Northup through his acting techniques; his previous experience in Shakespearean theatre is evident in his commanding and articulate execution of the script and his complete dedication to the emotions felt by his character throughout the film. Ejiofor maintains a strong sense of dignity in his role that is worthy of the inspirational persona that he portrays, however is not afraid to wholeheartedly illustrate the pain and humiliation that Northup endured, particularly during his time at Epps estate.

Another performance that I especially enjoyed was that of Lupita Nyong’o, in the role of Patsey, a fellow slave who suffers most dramatically at the cruel hands of Edwin Epps. Nyong’o handles scenes of extremely inhumane treatment with a wholly convincing and consistently delicate quality, something that makes the character of Patsey so likeable that it makes the barbaric scenes even more difficult to watch. Furthermore, the sheer awe of these scenes is heightened by the fantastic portrayal of Epps by Fassbender. He creates a character who is so utterly despicable in his actions, however so entrancing on screen that the viewer struggles to take their eyes off him; Fassbender has  no qualms in playing this loathsome role, and holds nothing back, bringing energy and a fierce intensity to the film.

Regarding the cinematography, 12 Years A Slave was absolutely gorgeous. McQueen collaborated for the third time with Sean Bobbitt, and their joint effort continues to grow in leaps and bounds. My favourite shots were mainly the scenes around Epps’ plantation, where scenes of abuse were interspersed with long and languid scenic shots, providing a harsh contrast to the plot. A particularly stunning shot was when Solomon was hanging from a tree, after an attempted lynching by some of the white carpenters at Ford’s estate; Solomon remains in the forefront, illustrating the harsh reality of his situation, however the camera moves around a variety of different angles, capturing the twists and turns of the sun in the warm afternoon air. Another thing I loved was the use of colours; the variation between the smooth dark skin of Solomon and the dirty white clothes he was forced to wear; the beautiful shades of green whipping past Solomon as he runs through the thick forage, and the shining embers of his last bid for freedom burning against a pitch black abyss.

I think this film cements McQueen as one of, if not the most talented and photographically stunning filmmakers of the moment, and provides a beautiful depiction of a film that tells an important story that deserves to be heard.

Babies (2010)

This documentary by French filmmaker Thomas Balmès has quickly made its way into my heart. The film follows four babies in their first year of life, and provides a beautifully expressed look at the differences between parenting styles across the world, focusing on Namibia, Japan, Mongolia and America.

First and foremost, the film is almost unbearably adorable; it is 79 minutes of chubby cheeks, bulging bellies, gurgling giggles and some baby-animal interaction that cannot fail to bring a giddy smile to your face, however I do feel that the film has more to offer than simply these moments. Although the cute factor is what perhaps reels in the biggest audience, there is so much more to this film than that.

Primarily, it serves as a perfect tool for an anthropological examination of childhood in cultures that are hugely diverse! It is so interesting to see such a serene and quiet depiction of particularly motherhood across the world; Balmès focused a great deal of attention on the relationships between the babies and their mothers, something that is incredibly moving to watch. I thought it was so amazing that despite huge differences between the lifestyles and parenting techniques of the families, the love between mother and child remains consistently strong across the globe. Furthermore, I liked that the film didn’t push any sort of agenda or ideology; there was no judgement on any of the subjects, something that is relatively rare within the documentary film genre.

Another thing I love is the way that Balmès presents the film without need for any narration or audience placement; the viewer inhabits the role of a silent witness to the wonders of life. The footage is very intimate and combined with the smooth editing, ensures that the viewer feels entirely immersed in the ever growing lives of these little babies. It is arranged well in that we are presented with each child reaching specific milestones around the same time, a choice that emphasises the key message behind the film, which I think is to prove that despite great cultural divisions, we are connected through the all encompassing embrace of nature. Balmès uses babies to illustrate this notion, and is hugely successful as it is damn near impossible not to feel a huge sense of worldwide solidarity as the credits roll.

Dead Man (1995)

This 1995 Jim Jarmusch film is a perfect example of what I would call pure cinematic art.

Shot in striking black and white, with numerous blackouts, this episodic neo-realist take on a Western stereotype is one of the most visually stunning films I’ve seen in a long time. I particularly enjoyed the floating, dreamlike cinematography and was instantly pulled in to this dark, film noir-esque picture that fully challenges the genre of Western. Jarmusch loads each shot with enigmatic shadows, often allowing darkness to completely veil the mise-en-scene, so much that I instantly thought of the similarities to the chiaroscuro lighting of film noir. This black vs. white element is reflected in the plot which takes the typical stereotype of bloodthirsty Native Americans, turns it backwards and presents the Westerners as the savage ones. Script-wise, the viewer is handed witty one-liners, and the film is surprisingly amusing for one so filled with violence. Essentially, the story is a tragic one, and there are moments of real sorrow, however Jarmusch seems able to present these scenes in a way that is not overly depressing, a skill that a lot of directors could perhaps benefit to learn, (not to point any fingers, Hirokazu Koreeda!!!)

The thing that I really, really loved about this film was the soundtrack. Performed by Neil Young, the entire soundtrack is made up of heavy guitar riffs that somehow seem to echo the massive, barren landscape upon which the film takes place. To provide some basis for the organic, almost wild feel of the soundtrack, it appears that Young actually improvised the entire thing; he sat in a booth, watched the film and just played what he felt. This sense of spontaneity comes across brilliantly in the film, and I couldn’t help but feel incredibly moved by the raw sense of isolation expressed in the music.

There is no denying that this film is unconventional, and I can see why people might not ‘get it’; the plot is erratic, the characters verge on ridiculous due to their ironically stereotypical appearances, and the sporadic uses of special effects seem to appear out of nowhere, and disappear as fast as they come, however it is undoubtedly Jarmusch’s most valiant film. Not only is it a brave and unprecedented creation, but it is an absolutely poetic piece of cinema and should be seen by everyone who is interested in discovering the true art of film.

Jane Eyre

Jane Eyre, (originally by Charlotte Brontë) was directed by Cary Joji Fukunaga. I really enjoyed this adaptation; I thought the casting was brilliant, and the cinematography was really beautiful.

I particularly liked the wide landscape shots of the moors, in which the figure of Jane (Mia Wasikowska) is often seen wandering across; despite her tiny size in contrast to the remote scenery, it’s impossible to take your eyes off her. The whole film has this really gloomy and enigmatic tone that contrasts beautifully with the passion and vitality of the plot.

What stood out for me the most in this film was definitely the acting. Although magnificently made, the true genius of Jane Eyre has always been the story, and the characters who drive the plot forwards. Wasikowska was an excellent choice for Jane; she translated the subtlety and precision of the character perfectly. Her youth and innocence contrasts with Fassbender’s fierce portrayal of Mr Rochester to glorious effect. Such tension between an onscreen couple is rarely seen, especially in the genre of period dramas.

Another thing I noticed is a positive role-change for Judy Dench. Rather than playing her usual “I’m the dominant bitch queen” part she instead embodies the caring and sweet Mrs Fairfax. As an advisor for the young Jane, she brought a degree of heartfelt sympathy to the film and to the characters themselves.

It did feel slightly hurried at parts; this was most apparent in the ending, but present in various points throughout the film. Fukunaga’s original cut of the film is 2 hours and 30 minutes, and has been cut down by half an hour: it shows.

Overall, a really great interpretation of a classic text and well worth a watch for the brilliant acting performances and stunning visuals. Even if you’re not a fan of period pieces (which I’m not), this stands out amongst the field.

 

The Iron Lady

The Iron Lady, by Phyllida Lloyd (director of Mamma Mia!) is assumed to be an intimate biopic of the formidable Margaret Thatcher. I went along with a few ideas about what to expect, and I must say that I was left disappointed.

Of course, Meryll Streep was incredible. Of course, not only because she is a widely renowned actress, but also because her public persona is one of steely ambition and determination, characteristics that are undeniably shared with Thatcher. This film could have gone so far if it was all about the acting; Streep is absolutely flawless.

Unfortunately, the good things stop there. Primarily, the whole film was just a bit too cheesy. Lloyd really layered on the sympathy for poor old Thatcher growing old and struggling with dementia, however this aspect of the film never really took off the ground and developed into a legitimate detail. The film seems to skim very superficially over Thatcher’s life, focusing instead on dreamy sequences of dancing with her husband. To be honest, I guess it’s to be expected that the director of Mamma Mia! is going to enjoy focusing on the more romantic angles of a life, but I just don’t think it reflects the life of such an iconic political figure.

Also, I actually noticed a number of editing errors throughout the film, something that you rarely see in such a analytic style creation. It’s just disappointing to see Streep’s talented performance matched by mediocre film-making; when you go to see a biopic, you don’t tend to expect out of sync voice-overs, and you definitely shouldn’t be noticing the jerky superimposition, certianly not more than once!

I’m sad to admit that I really didn’t enjoy this movie; although that’s not to say that it didn’t strike a chord. Streep’s portrayal of the elderly Thatcher was utterly shrewd, and at times I did feel myself near to tears as she flashed confused looks around her home as she realised how much times had changed, HOWEVER, I think this is less due to the script and direction, and more to the fact that seeing confused old people is sad. Lloyd knows this, and she has used to her complete advantage. Furthermore, there is something a little sad about seeing Meryll Streep knee deep in prosthetics, speaking in clipped English (her accent is undeniably incredible) and tottering about 10 Downing Street. If only it had been handled better.

Alas, it is what it is. I’d still encourage people to go and see the movie; however don’t get your hopes up. Overall, a sad and hasty way to culminate Thatcher’s life, and a great, great waste of Meryll Streep.

Top Ten Movies

So I thought I’d compile a list of my top ten films to ease myself into this blogging hoopla, and allow my multitude of followers learn what kind of thing I’m into…y’here goes.

(In no particular order)

JEUX D’ENFANTS – Yann Samuell

THE SHINING – Stanley Kubrick

THE GODFATHER – Francis Ford Coppolla

A SINGLE MAN – Tom Ford

SOMERSAULT – Cate Shortland

FISH TANK – Andrea Arnold

WHITE MEN CAN’T JUMP – Ron Shelton

BROKEBACK MOUNTAIN – Ang Lee

RUN LOLA RUN – Tom Tykwer

MAMMA MIA – Phyllida Lloyd

300

Recently watched Zack Snyder’s 300 and was pleasantly surprised by how much I enjoyed it!

This is the first green-screen film I’ve seen that actually pulls it off. The lighting effects are insaaane and creates this epic style, which helps to balance out the realism and fantasy quite well. There are some really incredible shots; a favourite of mine is when a group of Persians are pushed off the edge of a cliff: a stunning silhouette. 

I also REALLY enjoyed the sex scene……..it was actually tender and seemed authentic, unlike those in Steve McQueen’s Shame, which is interesting considering the exaggerated nature of the film. 

An interesting thing to note is the nationalistic ethos that shines through the script, a very uncommon stand in popular modern films. Religion and politics are represented as very much the enemy, and solidarity and nationalism championed. 

Overall, I really enjoyed watching this movie; may have got caught up in a little bit of the ole mob mentality (‘this is Sparta’ etc. etc.) but this story really was beautifully told.