2018 is a turbulent time to be a film fan, and as the less salubrious side of Hollywood rears its head once more, audiences are sometimes left with the unenviable challenge of attempting to separate the art from the artist.
Great strides are being made in the industry to redress longstanding imbalances, of course, and no right-thinking person would want misdemeanours to go unpunished or worse still, ignored. But these troubled waters are muddied further when one of the personalities involved has had a slew of historical allegations raised against them (with commendable support for the accusers, throughout the business), but so far accompanied - inexplicably - by no legal ramifications. While those who speak out on abuse should always be listened to, we also want to believe in due-process and rule of law. The awkwardness comes in the gap between, the doubt left in onlookers' minds while things run their course, which is this case is slowly, publicly and messily for all involved.
What this boils down to is when the BBFC rating card for a Woody Allen film warned of "moderate sex", your humble correspondent's first reaction was ‘Well… what's “moderate” going to mean, exactly?'.
But with The Unpleasantness out of the way (for now), Wonder Wheel is Allen's annual outing to our cinemas, as he foregoes the quippy comedies of the past and brings us a broiling melodrama set in New York's Coney Island amusement park during the 1950s. Beach lifeguard and aspiring writer Mickey (Justin Timberlake) narrates the story of the woman he's having an affair with, Ginny (Kate Winslet). A world-weary waitress, Ginny lives on the park with fairground operator Humpty (Jim Belushi), and her young pyromaniac son Richie (Jack Gore) from a previous marriage. But when Humpty's estranged daughter Carolina (Juno Temple) unexpectedly arrives on the run from her gangster husband, all of these uneasy threads are drawn together to make a fuse which only burns one way...
So maybe it's indicative of the baggage which an audience will likely bring into the auditorium with them, but Wonder Wheel is similarly troubled. Never quite straying into hammy territory, this is effectively an all-American kitchen sink drama, feeling for all the world like a vintage stage production which has been ported directly onto the screen.
It's nice to see Allen's sepia-tinted, oak-panelled satires giving way to 50s kitsch and over-saturation, although this is arguably more cinematographer Vittorio Storaro's movie than its director's. The fairground setting with its erratic weather gives the award winning lens-master carte blanche to change the lighting and colours mid-scene, often mid-monologue, morphing with the character's emotions and intentions. Key exterior shots are framed against backdrops of tunnels formed by receding arches, blatantly symbolising echoes of the past and repetitive behaviour. Visually, this is an intriguing work.
(That said, there's at least one scene where the moles on Kate Winslet's face switch sides, indicating that the footage has been mirrored in post-production. Vittorio probably needs to have a word with editor Alisa Lepselter, because if the audience notices this upon their first viewing, it's undoing his work and the movie's not really doing its job.)
Back in the screenplay, Mickey's fourth-wall-breaking commentary admits to seething melodrama and overblown characterisation from the outset, perhaps as an attempt to absolve Allen of blame for the slightly archaic structure. While Timberlake, Temple and Belushi all put in reliably solid turns (the latter in a role which appears to have been written for the late James Gandolfini, but still carried off with aplomb), the real screencraft comes from Kate Winslet as the connecting tissue between all other characters. Smouldering throughout the movie, Kate positively shines in a closing monologue which the camera awards directly to her, like a $10 performance in a $5 film.
Back in the writer’s chair, Allen's scripted allusions to the characters of Hamlet and Oedipus feel deliberately eyebrow-raising given their respective daddy-issues, and there's the thought that Wonder Wheel could be a pointed, cinematic confessional about responsibility, regret and bad decision-making. Alternatively of course, this could just be an autopilot pot-boiler masquerading as one. The exaggerated artifice in Timberlake's sporadic narration and Winslet's stagey performance would certainly suggest the latter.
Unfortunately, there's just so much of this theatricality that the film has little emotional resonance during its run-time and even less once the house lights come up. While Allen’s relentless work-schedule means that, statistically, they can’t all be winners, this latest offering feels like the film-maker not really trying, carried along by his cast and crew, but to no satisfactory end.
And while we await a firm conclusion to the unfolding drama behind the scenes, there’s the thought that Wonder Wheel could well be the director’s final, faltering curtain-call. Time will tell of course, until which point all we can do is try our best to keep the art and the artist on separate shelves…
Think of something like The Sopranos, but with no edge whatsoever.
It's a Sunday evening DVD, if anything.
Yeah, probably a rental or stream unless you're an Allen-completist.
It's not.
We won't.
There isn't.
Level 1: Timberlake may have gotten the chop from being a Jedi himself, but he's in that Inside Llewyn Davis with Oscar 'Dameron' Isaac and Adam 'Ren' Driver.
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.
So, this is my third Jesse Plemons film this month; the cinema staff are beginning to talk. Everyone's favourite grump-faced young Texan is just one supporting pillar of many in the fantastically cast Black Mass, the true/dramatised story of Massachusetts crime-kingpin James 'Whitey' Bulger and his 20 year grip over Boston, all of which was in fact aided and abetted by his state-senator brother, and their childhood friend who became a crooked FBI agent.
First and foremost, Johnny Depp is on blistering form as Bulger. It's great to finally have Johnny back in a role which gives him something to do, boldly striding down the line between charismatic and repellent (and often being both). As Black Mass progresses though, it becomes as much Joel Edgerton's film as Depp's, and he's shaping up to be a classic character-actor in playing the FBI's John Connolly. Backed by understated performances from the likes of Benedict Cumberbatch, Dakota Johnson, Kevin Bacon, Corey Stoll, Rory Cochrane and Juno Temple (okay, and Jesse Plemons), director Scott Cooper isn't afraid to use some quiet restraint with his cast, opting for lengthy, scathing glances rather than Tarantino-esque shoot-outs (although rest assured, there's a not-insignificant bullet-count in here as well).
In other hands, the film could easily have been a straight-to-DVD thriller starring Russell Crowe, but Cooper's unflinching treatment of his subject matter (this is a hard 15 Cert), Junkie XL's melodically imposing score, and the fantastic sets, make-up and costumes make Black Mass far more than the sum of its parts…
…although it's duly noted that Mr Cumberbatch seems to have mastered his Massachusetts accent by studying Peter Griffin, Depp's criminal mastermind barely ages between 1975 and 1995, and his accompanying semi-receded hairline doesn't seem to budge at all;)
If you're in the mood for unrelenting grimness on a large screen, yes.
It'll be one to buy, but maybe once the price has dropped.
Almost certainly.
Almost certainly.
Maybe a bit.
There isn't.
Black Mass stars none other than young Owen Lars himself, Joel Edgerton.
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.
You had one job, Matthias. You're a shepherd; protect the sheep. And if protecting those sheep involves you manufacturing a sturdy fence that they won't be able to push over the moment the fancy takes them, then you build that bloody fence, Matthias! Twice in this film (twice) Dorset's most lackadaisical ovine protection agent stumbles at the hurdle of fence-erection, and is still somehow trusted to look after the sheep. You had one job…
Thomas Vinterburg's big-screen adaptation of the 1875 Tomas Hardy novel, Far From The Madding Crowd, boasts a very capable cast in the form of Carey Mulligan, Matthias Schoenaerts, Tom Sturridge and the ever-smirking Michael Sheen. What is potentially a thoroughly depressing story of poor decision-making and bad circumstances is lifted from the doldrums by the performances of Mulligan and Schoenaerts, which isn't to belittle the efforts of everyone else, but they're essentially the only sympathetic characters on offer. Some beautifully quiet photography*1 of the Dorset landscape also provides some respite from the strains of rural life, courtesy of cinematographer Charlotte Bruus Christensen.
It's definitely a film for Fans Of This Sort Of Thing, and while I wouldn't consider myself a member of that club, I found plenty to enjoy in the acting, direction and writing (ironically, it's most often the screen-writing, or just the narrative itself, of literary adaptations which rubs me up the wrong way). As someone who isn't familiar with the original work, I thought it worked very well, and the themes of indecision and good intentions married with bad outcomes translate to 2015 with ease. The film feels a little rushed on occasion, but the two-hour runtime is a good fit for the story which is being told, so no real complaints from me.
Carey Mulligan starred in 2013's Inside Llewyn Davis alongside Adam Driver and Oscar Isaac, both of whom will appear in this year's Star Wars: The Force Awakens.
*1 Although again, for several indoor scenes we have close-up shots filmed using hand-held cameras on zoom, with every judder and sway of the operator's hand being exaggerated by the magnification. When you're watching this on a cinema-screen it's nausea-inducing.
*2 I imagine. I'll be honest, I haven't looked up those criteria across the year's other releases, but by all means let me know if any fit the bill.
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.
Maleficent Cert: PG / 97 mins / Dir. Robert Stromberg
In the interests of full disclosure, I should say that I didn't get round to re-watching Disney's Sleeping Beauty before going to see Maleficent. And I say re-watching, but I honestly can't remember the last time I saw it. When I was very, very small, certainly. I seem to have more recollection of the accompanying story-book than I do of the film itself. No matter though, I was familiar enough with the story to catch up as I went, right?
Well largely, yes. Although I did clock several moments in the sequel/retelling that are signposted like massive callbacks, and I imagine they'd be quite neat if I had the knowledge to connect them fully. I'm just very aware that this film isn't really aimed at me, while at the same time, it's not not aimed at me (hence the casting of Ms Jolie). Anyhow, despite all this, I really enjoyed it. More a retelling than a prequel, Disney retool their classic iteration of the story from the titular evil fairy's point of view. And while it's not without its fair share of saccharine, the result is a lot more engaging that I was expecting. Not as doom-and-gloom as the trailer would suggest, but not entirely pink-fairy-wings either.
Visually, it's about as close to its predecessor as you can get with live-action, and Disney have gone to great lengths to make Maleficent look and feel like a companion piece. Although part of me (the awkward, old-school, traditionalist part which doesn't always walk in-step with the marketing divisions) thinks that a traditional drawn-animation would have looked just as good, if not better. The film struggles at times with the sheer amount of sprites, fairies and magic flowers on-screen, to the point where it looks like a CGI animation. To have the live-action Angelina walking/flying around in the middle is jarring, and almost reminded me of the fox-hunting sequence in Mary Poppins (except in that film, the effect was intentional). That said, the flying sequences are absolutely astounding in 3D, largely because of the amount of CGI, and there's no doubt as to how meticulously the film's been assembled.
The acting's a slightly different story, however, with poor old Angelina left carrying the load as she plays the role completely straight. Jolie's quite magnificent as the evil/misguided fairy, and it's clear she had a lot of fun while also taking things completely seriously. The rest of the cast are a mixed bag, mostly passable, but I had a problem with Michael Higgins playing young Stefan, and the fairies Flittle, Knotgrass and Thistlewit played by Lesley Manville, Imelda Staunton and Juno Temple respectively, were slightly too close to Irritating™ for my liking. But as I said, I doubt if anyone in a demographics meeting at Disney HQ had a picture of me on the flipchart as they were planning this out.
Maybe I'm getting old and soft, but the recent Frozen and now Maleficent have both managed to bring a fresh lick of paint to the Fairy Story genre. Well written and fantastic to look at, if you can get over the Disney Princess™ hurdle, there are great things here.
Well, ish. It's not as consistently 'dark' as the trailer.
For the most part, yes.
That's not really for me to say, but it's got to come pretty damned close.
Cinema for full effect (although the 3D is optional, obviously).
Nah.
Yes, but probably not for a while. It's done its job.
I think (think) I heard one low in the mix, but don't quote me on that.
Is Sharlto Copley meant to be attempting that Scottish accent? Is that what the king was like in Sleeping Beauty? Is he taking the piss out of how bad the original one was? Because if that's the case, he's doing it very well…
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.
A stylistic rollercoaster, which suffers from one instance of frankly dreadful casting. The problem is that when audiences in the UK see Matt Lucas with no trousers on and a comedy wig, it's more-often-than-not in the context of sketch comedy, where he'll deadpanningly play a ridiculous character with a look of bemusement on his face. That's also pretty much what he's doing in this film, but it's not what's required. Many of his scenes are performed alone, and he has no comedic foil to bounce off and the whole thing falls a bit flat. That said, I've got no idea who would play the part any better, so maybe it's the part itself?
Small Apartments is the Instagram of dark, quirky comedy; dreamlike one moment, wisecracking the next, slapstick the one after that followed by introspective pathos. It makes Seven Psychopaths look like Pulp Fiction, yet sadly it doesn't even have the character of the former, let alone the hipster attitude of the latter.
The worrying thing is that all the other characters seem to have been relatively well, but in roles that are defined by an outfit (and/or wig) with a facial expression. There's enough surreal action to maybe suggest that the entire episode is taking place inside one of the characters' minds (see also: Super), but since the closing scenes dwell more on the story-resolution of a previously incidental character, it seems unlikely, somehow.
I'd like to say that at least Small Apartments tries hard, but for about half of the runtime I just don't think that's the case. I many ways it's a noble failure, but a failure nonetheless.
The trailer is far more coherent than the actual film.
Not really, no.
I have no idea, but I do hope so.
If anything, free.
Yeah.
Nope.
Not that I heard.
Why do I bother?
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 'catch-up' review. I watched this film at home, not at the cinema. I saw the trailer for this at the cinema, and I would have seen the film there too, but they didn't/couldn't show it. So now iTunes, Amazon, Netflix and Blockbuster get to reap the rewards of my local's advance-advertising, and I'm sure they're delighted. Now you may say "oh come on, they can't show everything down there", and that would be a valid point if they didn't do things like running Taken 2 for six weeks. Was it that successful? No, I don't think so. Twilight? Batman? Les Mes? Sure, go for it; if they're pulling the punters in then keep making that money. But Taken 2? I ask you. Anyway, this is essentially a DVD review, but still of a new(ish) film. There. I'm glad that's sorted.
• 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.
