Unbroken Cert: 15 / 137 mins / Dir. Angelina Jolie
It's comforting, at least, to know that there was once a generation (ie pre-1975) which wasn't inherently terrified of sharks. Stranded across two inflatable life-rafts in the Pacific ocean, the three servicemen in Angelina Jolie's new film Unbroken react to the sight of fins protruding above the surface in the way that you or I would to a wasp buzzing at the window. The audience winces at this new layer of imminent danger, whilst two of the stranded airmen try to repair punctures in the raft whilst the third one smacks a shark over the head with an aluminium paddle as if it had tried to steal a biscuit. Bravo.
It's this combination of stark danger and reserved practicality that best sums up the film, following 1936 Olympic athlete Louis Zamperini as he enlists to serve the allied forces during the second world war and ends up, as I've intimated, adrift in the ocean with two loyal comrades, three hungry sharks, and a dwindling chance of survival. Although rescue finally arrives, it's in the shape of a Japanese battle-cruiser, and Zamperini finds himself captured as a prisoner-of-war. And I don't know whether you've heard this or not, but the Japanese forces didn't have a particularly shining reputation in their duty of care towards their prisoners.
Unbroken's main strength lies in the performances of Jack O'Connell and Takamasa Ishihara, with fine support from Domnhnall Gleeson, Finn Wittrock and Luke Treadaway. Jolie's tight direction gets the best out of her cast without turning it into a pantomime (with the exception I'll mention in a minute), although the film does a better job of capturing the unending misery of the war, rather than the outright horror. From the blistering airborne dogfight with sepia-toned childhood flashbacks, to the quiet tension of the life-raft sequence, to the bloody-eyed despair of the Japanese POW-camp (the make-up and effects teams on top form here), each section is magnificent in its own way although I did often feel as if it was three films stitched hurriedly together. Whether this intentionally represents the fact that the war becomes everything in the lives of its combatants, or whether it's just a choppily assembled adaptation of the original book, I can't say. I'd hope for the former.
[ As a side-note, I have to say how impressed I was at the film's opening dogfight as we seem to have come full circle in terms of direction and editing. For the Death Star assault in Star Wars, George Lucas famously cut together a test-run from old war movie footage; the opening twenty minutes of Unbroken, in which a squadron of US bombers are attacked by ground and air forces against a sharp blue sky, looks for all the world like it could be from The Clone Wars. Bravo. Again. ]
So while the film certainly makes no bones about illustrating what Zamperini went through, I didn't get the impression that he was being singled out for much more 'punishment' than his fellow prisoners especially (I only mention this because that's how the film had been described to me). The treatment he receives is beyond harsh, certainly, but so was everyone's, and we obviously spend more time with Zamperini as it's his story. While it's clear that his Japanese officer nemesis Watanabe, 'The Bird', put Louis through the ringer, you still get the impression that he was an absolute arsehole to all and sundry, as and when he felt like it. In this respect, Unbroken almost becomes more about the POWs as a group, and that almost works in its favour…
…because it had all been going so well until the final twenty minutes, when the climactic stare-down between Zamperini and Watanabe is accompanied by silent, slack-jawed onlookers, a Spielberg-esque 'Music Score Telling You What To Feel', and is only one step away from a slow-hand-clap ending. The film layers on so much unnecessary, synthetic Cheese™, that I thought the US bomber which cruises victoriously overhead was going to be trailing a Dairylea banner behind it. It's not a deal-breaker, but it's so out of kilter with what's gone before it that it feels like last-minute interference from exec producers.
But as a whole, Unbroken is a far better film than its final reel, and the craft of the storytelling overcomes the hurdles of the Hollywood tick-boxes. I'm not even entirely sure the story needed to be told, but I'm still very glad it was. It's also head and shoulders above others in its class, and the only real issues I had with the film were just that: mine.
If you don't mind dampening your festive spirit with a gruelling, if uneven, true story, Unbroken might just be the film for you…
For the most part, although the childhood flashbacks don't make up the same percentage of the film as they do the trailer.
For the most part.
It tells Zamperini's story expertly; so in that respect, yes.
Other than the opening dogfight, you won't lose too much by watching this at home.
I won't.
I will, but probably not for a while.
There isn't. FOR SHAME.
Will I get away with white-washing a milk bottle to surreptitiously drink gin out of while I'm at work?
DISCLAIMERS:
• ^^^ That's dry, British humour, and most likely sarcasm or facetiousness.
• Yen's blog contains harsh language and even harsher notions of propriety. Reader discretion is advised.
• This is a personal blog. The views and opinions expressed here represent my own thoughts (at the time of writing) and not those of the people, institutions or organisations that I may or may not be related with unless stated explicitly.
Every so often, a film comes along which is in equal parts compelling and harrowing, which enthralls you utterly but also beats you into submission. By no means a film which you'll want to watch on a weekly basis, but a one which will stay with you and that you know will require another viewing. When you've got the strength. Requiem For A Dream is one of those films, as is Harry Brown. This year, it's '71.
The story of a young relatively inexperienced British soldier, Gary Hook, deployed to Belfast in 1971, when violent tensions between Irish unionist and nationalist factions were at a critical head. Separated from his unit on a routine callout, Hook finds himself seemingly abandoned in the heartland of an area which doesn't take kindly to the sight of a British army uniform, and it will take all of his resources just to stay alive…
Actually, I've made that sound far more Hollywood than it actually is. Despite Jack O'Connell clearly being the film's protagonist, the film focuses as much on the events surrounding him as it does his continued survival, and this is a war story without heroes (but plenty of victims - on all sides). I don't pretend to know anything about the troubles, and if anything the film only makes the situation clearer by illustrating that it's much more complicated than having two sides at each other's throats. While I'm sure there'll be differing opinions on this, the film I saw tells its story without taking sides, instead focusing on the bleakness of the whole situation.
That's not to say the war is depicted as pointless, but the end-goal of the conflict certainly seems as unreachable as any happy ending would be. '71 is one of the few films I've seen where the use of handheld cameras feels like a natural choice, as it only intensifies the sense of general noise, confusion and desperation. The desolate streets, pubs and houses*1 are filmed with a yellowing wash which evokes the past without nostalgia, and the film's wardrobe and makeup departments capture the era perfectly without going full Life On Mars*2. The only thing which struck me as odd was the lack of bite in the gunfire sound effects (of which there are plenty), considering how many of them occur in 'close quarters'. This could be an artistic choice to help the audience focus on the narrative, or to demonstrate how desensitised the characters are to the sound of gunfire, but the guns then become one of the least provocative aspects in the film. Like I said, odd.
In terms of performance, everyone brings their A-game here, with Jack O'Connell leading as only he can, bringing a sort of hardened-naivety to his role. It's essential that the audience is rooting for Hook, but not to the point where the other characters don't matter, and the cast pull this off fantastically under Yann Demange's direction. As great as he is in this, I think O'Connell's best work is still to come, and I look forward to seeing which roles he chooses after films like '71 and Starred Up. Also singling themselves out for praise among the ensemble are Corey McKinley as the funniest, sweariest 12 yr old loyalist you'll see on film this year (probably ever), and Barry Keoghan as the emotionally turbulent, but blank-faced nationalist-in-training, Sean. Both actors bring an intensity to their roles which, like O'Connell's, are bolstered by a level of innocence which the older members of the cast don't have at their disposal.
While I can't personally vouch for the historical detail or thematic accuracy of '71, the film moved me like few others have done recently, and has a violent urgency which demands a viewer's attention without being needlessly provocative. While I'd recommend the film to anyone, I know that it's not intended to be universally loved, even though it asks its questions without judging or moralising.
'71 is a bleak powerhouse of a film. Film-of-the-year material, and I don't say that lightly.
Yes. Nails it in one.
I did. Mostly gasping and crying, to be fair.
From where I'm sitting, undoubtedly.
The cinema release for this film is small, but catch it as and where you can.
I won't, largely because some people will find it too much, and for various reasons.
I will.
There isn't. Which is okay as despite the amount of screaming in the film, it would feel a little out of place.
In the bit where Private Hook is hiding in the outside toilet for several hours to evade being shot, how come none of the householders needed the loo? There's washing on the line in the yard remember, so people are living at the house, and toilet paper on the holder so the alfresco cubicle is in use.
*1 If the film's Wiki page is anything to go by, the streets used in the film are in Blackburn rather than Belfast. And I don't know if it's commendable that the production crew didn't want to stir tensions in Belfast by re-creating traumatic times-past, or more worrying that the streets of Blackburn are so easily transformable into a 20th century war-zone.
*2 Not that I'm slagging off Life On Mars, but if the TV series' "do you remember" rhetoric of flared trousers and wide-collar shirts is akin to the act of Peter Kay, then '71 is closer to the tone of Doug Stanhope or Jerry Sadowitz.
DISCLAIMERS:
• ^^^ That's dry, British humour, and most likely sarcasm or facetiousness.
• Yen's blog contains harsh language and even harsher notions of propriety. Reader discretion is advised.
• This is a personal blog. The views and opinions expressed here represent my own thoughts (at the time of writing) and not those of the people, institutions or organisations that I may or may not be related with unless stated explicitly.
Starred Up (Mild spoilers)
Cert: 18 / 106 mins / Dir. David Mackenzie
Director David Mackenzie's new, gritty prison drama certainly doesn't pull any of its punches, and manages to be every bit as harrowing and claustrophobic as the trailer suggests. The only real problem I found with it is that I wouldn't work out what the film is trying to say (other than "prison's a bit shit"). The film captures the essence of its timespan perfectly, but come the closing scenes, I didn't feel I'd been on a journey, more just shown a snapshot.
Jack O'Connell and Ben Mendelsohn have a solid chemistry as the father and son who end up sharing a wing (particularly in the scene where young Eric finds out how prison has changed his dad), and they both put in solid turns, but I struggled to find any real character development for either of them. The way in which Rupert Friend's prison-counsellor is written out of the story seems emblematic of the film's general lack of plot direction. By the time you add on the mumbled dialogue and unexplained prison-slang, you could well be wondering if Starred Up isn't just an excuse for an all-male orgy of bad language and mean-spirited violence; because if that's all you want, there are films which will deliver more and with greater glee.
Because I couldn't identify with any of the characters, I didn't find the film to be moving on an emotional level, but it's certainly bloody engaging throughout. Mackenzie gets great value for money from his cast, I'd have just liked to see them be used in a story with more drive. But… (and this is the clincher), it's a solidly assembled film which commands you to pay attention. It's just that afterwards, you may be asking yourself what you've gained…
Largely.
Largely.
Largely.
You won't lose too much by watching it at home.
No.
At some point.
There isn't.
Prison does look a bit shit though, doesn't it?
DISCLAIMERS:
• ^^^ That's dry, British humour, and most likely sarcasm or facetiousness.
• Yen's blog contains harsh language and even harsher notions of propriety. Reader discretion is advised.
• This is a personal blog. The views and opinions expressed here represent my own thoughts (at the time of writing) and not those of the people, institutions or organisations that I may or may not be related with unless stated explicitly.
Here's the deal, Warner Bros, perceived film-experiences degrade over time. A movie that has audiences skipping out of the auditorium may not hold that buzz, and the next day, the same people won't be telling people "OMG, you HAVE to see that!" but more of a "Yeah, it was really good". Three months later, when it hits DVD, the same loyal customers could well be thinking "Well, I've seen it, so I might wait until it drops to a fiver before I buy it". So when a group of men in their early twenties - your target demographic, remember - stand up during the closing credits loudly professing "Well, it was alright, wasn't it?, you've pretty much failed. That's the best thing those people are ever going to say about your film, right there. Think on that, WB, before commissioning another installment.
It's not too long into the Snyder-produced 300: Rise Of An Empire that you realise if all the slow-motion shots were just played in real-time, the film would be about 45 minutes long. This sequel runs pretty much parallel to the 2006 original (although also covers the before-and-after periods), and appears to be an excuse for stylised violence, plodding exposition, and a sex-scene in which we see Eva Green's boobies. All three of these are laboured way past the point of enjoyment.
Rise Of An Empire has a distinctly different visual feel to its predecessor. Painted in blues and greys rather than reds and ochres, darker and less reliant on the hyper-reality of CGI'd sets, it certainly feels like an advancement. But the effort of the production design seems to be wasted on stilted dialogue and stirring speeches that have all the passion of a pizza delivery order being read out over the phone. I haven't been this bored by a film that looked so good since Sucker Punch (which also had Snyder's stamp on it, co-incidentally*1). The film feels far longer than its 100 minutes to the point where, in preparation for the battle-finale, even the aforementioned group of young men behind me started groaning and audibly rolling their eyes. You can't tell someone to shush when you agree with them.
Never before have oiled chests, guyliner and countless plumes of lava-lamp blood contributed to a film so spectacularly dull. Then again, I wasn't a massive fan of the last one either, so that could go some way to explaining it.
The trailer isn't holding back any real surprises, put it that way.
Afraid not.
I wouldn't say so.
Cinema if you like underused 3D and watching uncomfortably long sex-scenes in a public space.
I will, a bit.
Highly unlikely.
Not that I heard, although there was ample opportunity, so I may well have missed one.
Tell me why I'm wrong. Please.
*1 And I say that as someone who, generally speaking enjoys Snyder's work.
DISCLAIMERS:
• ^^^ That's dry, British humour, and most likely sarcasm or facetiousness.
• Yen's blog contains harsh language and even harsher notions of propriety. Reader discretion is advised.
• This is a personal blog. The views and opinions expressed here represent my own thoughts (at the time of writing) and not those of the people, institutions or organisations that I may or may not be related with unless stated explicitly.
