What We Did On Our Holiday Contains highlight-to-read spoilers.
That said, ^^ that film poster up there ^^ is a spoiler, as well, so y'know.
SPOILERS. Cert: 12A / 95 mins / Dir. Andy Hamilton & Guy Jenkin
Yeah whatever, let's move on to the seven questions, shall we..?
It's representative of the premise, certainly, but I'll concede that while the trailer summarises the tone of some the film pretty well, it does not tell you the plot of the entire film.
Largely because if it did, no-one would go and see it.
Well, the humour is overwhelmingly twee, and the family-drama is overwhelmingly mawkish and manipulative. And then there's the events of the second act which felt oddly weightless for some reason. The film has a lot to say about the way in which children view and react to events around them, but rather than be charmed by the naive boldness of spirit, I just sat thinking 'Well, that wouldn't happen. Any of it.'
While the screenplay plays an unprecedented card, it did so unconvincingly for me, and I just thought the whole thing was in surprisingly poor taste. And if you aren't convinced by the events in that second act, none of it's going to work.
Well, I can see what it's doing, and I can see that it's doing it well (the frequent laughter of the audience around me seals that particular deal), but I can't bring myself to like any of it. The gentle, smug comedy of the first and third acts sits uncomfortably with the overall direction of the film, and feels like it's two separate TV series that have been combined into one and then trimmed down to half their planned running time.
Even with the sweeping vistas of the Scottish Highlands , What We Did On Our Holiday feels very televisual. This is more down to the screenplay than the photography, and it's certainly not a deal-breaker, but I couldn't shake the feeling that I could have watched this on TV with almost the same effect.
I'd like to say no, but that wouldn't be true. Tonight's audience seemed to thoroughly enjoy it, and I know more than a few people who it'll be ideal for. But for me personally, What We Did On Our Holiday is a tonal shambles and one of the most ill-judged screenplays I've seen brought to life. When the best thing in a film is the three children who are too young to be able to act properly*1, you know you're in trouble.
I won't, no. In fact, I'm fairly certain I'll go to the point of actively avoiding it. Perhaps the film raises questions and doubts in my mind which I instinctively recoil from on a subconscious level. Or perhaps I just feel the whole affair is like a horrific, slow-motion car crash between Outnumbered and One Foot In The Grave, only with a younger principal cast and fewer jokes.
If there's one good thing to have come out of this, it's that Fisherman's Blues by The Waterboys is no longer a involuntary trigger for remembering that massively self-satisfied Visit Scotland advert from a few years back. Instead, it's been replaced by the mental image of three traumatised young children incinerating the corpse of a recently deceased loved-one on an abandoned beach, in an episode which they seem to cope surprisingly well with in the film, but which will undoubtedly cause them severe psychological issues in the future. Oh yeah, I guess it's not quite as charming when I put it like that. Believe me that I'm not exaggerating when I say it's only just behind Under The Skin for entry on the shortlist of the most unflinchingly disturbing scenes you've seen on a beach. Oh, and elsewhere there's a rape-joke as well, so well done there.
No, there isn't.
For those who've seen the film: Where did they get all those bottles from on the beach? They can't have been in the back of the truck. And I'm not convinced that the structure would have stayed afloat, even with them. That said, I've never had to dispose of a body. Like that.
*1 Nothing against them personally; they've got more charm than most child actors, but they still sound like they're reading lines. And they're still more likeable than the adults. Me mordere.
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.
Hoffman's idea of direction is apparently letting the entire cast turn up and smirk over their lines. He seems torn between wanting to make a warm, twee comedy about people adapting to their later years, and showing us that the supporting cast are actual retired musicians. As a result, he concentrates on neither and we get a right old mess. Only Maggie Smith and Pauline Collins seem to have any idea why they're there. The first act is butchered down to 20 minutes, the third lacks any of the drama or emotion required, leaving a second act that couldn't drag any more if it wore a gold lamé dress, false lashes and started singing Hey Big Spender to a stag party.
Anyway, I've made a list of the reasons that it's not fucking well good enough...
• If the home (which is run as a charity, not privately funded by its residents) was cutting costs and facing closure, why would they even accept Jean as a resident, knowing she'd be moved on with the others anyway? As it turns out, the Gala Concert saves the day, and apparently a room containing no more than 100 punters paying "Covent Garden Prices" is enough to fund the home indefinitely. Don't get me wrong, we're never on the edge of our seats - The potential closure of the home is referred to twice, and defusing of this is referred to once. What should be a major plot point is barely an addendum in the script.
• There's a clunking, out-of-place, scene in the first act where Billy Connolly's Wilf: walks across a room, pauses, looks all concerned and clutchy-chest ill, says 'No, I'll... I'll be fine' and then walks on. This is never referred to again. We (the audience) think 'oh, that'll be coming back later to throw a spanner in the works!, but no. After that he's just leery and inappropriate as usual, walking with a stick but otherwise perfectly healthy.
• In an actual Scriptwriter's Boomerang scene, one of the (supporting-role) residents is seen in a summer-house-type-thing playing his clarinet when he clutches his chest, takes a pill, drops the rest of the pills, then shares a concerned look with Wilf as the medication takes effect. Again, we think 'Well, that's a funeral we'll be seeing in a moment of pathos later in the film!', and it does rear its head again, but only when the chap in question is taken to hospital one morning a few days later (much to the concern of the breakfast room), and is then never referred to again.
• Tom Courtenay's Reginald has trouble adapting the modern world (even though he's not illustrated as 'living in the past' like his contemporaries are, somehow). This is crystalised into him trying to "understand Rap Music"; namely reading a highly simplified web-page that doesn't exist and having an awkward conversation with "A Youth" who's there as part of the home's Understanding Opera course for "youths who appear to take no interest in opera". After a thoroughly embarassing 'Hey, we're not so different, you and I' tête-à-tête, Tom is, I can only assume, Down With The Kids. There is no reason for him to want to understand The Rap, and his newfound knowledge is not utilised in any way. This thread is never referred to again (although the aforementioned Youth does appear in the audience of the Gala Concert, presumably paying Covent Garden Prices for his ticket).
• In the final act, we're waiting for some hitherto unforseen revelation about Maggie Smith and Tom Courtenay's past that'll lead to the last-minute 'Oh! But they're about to go on-stage!!!' tension. This doesn't happen. Instead, those two are wrapped up with next to no actual resolution, and Pauline Collins' Cissy goes from "forgetful and slightly dotty" to "full-on Alzheimer's" over the course of ten minutes, threatening to derail the finalé-performance. But it's okay, Jean talks her round and everything is fine and they do the concert the end.
• 'Hello? Is that Michael Gambon? I'm casting a new film which is sort of St Trinian's with pensioners, and wondered if you could come in to play a supporting role as a sort of comic-relief, sweary, bad-tempered Dumbledore? ...No, that's literally all you'll have to do. You can? brilliant!' *click*
• There's been much said in the pre-release press about the supporting cast of Quartet being actual retired musicians and singers. To be honest, it adds a nice air of authenticity to the musical performances, but it also underlines the fact that they're not retired actors. Ne'er mind. However, to pay tribute to these good folks, the closing credits of the film are run alongside then-and-now pictures of the them, detailing achievements in their careers (eg English National Opera, Royal Philharmonic, what have you). As the credits roll, this is giving a great insight to these 'anonymous' performers, until the actual cast start being listed as well. They show a photo of the young Andrew Sachs with the credit 'Fawlty Towers, 1975-79'. Er.. I fucking know who Andrew Sachs is. I don't think we need him listed with the unknown talent, do we? And if you must do that, wouldn't you quote part of his stage career, rather than the role he played as a comedy waiter in the 1970's? They haven't used a photo of him from that era, so why that credit? I love Fawlty Towers as much as the next guy, but it's not exactly the Royal National Ballet, is it? In the context of this film, it's largely fucking irrelevant, in fact.
• Why is the pre-press propping the director 'Academy Award Winner Dustin Hoffman' when the pre-press is also pointing out that it's his directorial debut? That'd be like having a plumber arrive at your house who's never installed a toilet before, but he has got a 'Gold 50 Metres Swimming Award!'. Pretty much irrelevant to the job in hand, especially as Quartet suggests Hoffman would have trouble directing traffic on a one-way street.
I expect better from everyone involved, with the possible exception of Smith, and even she's on autopilot.
Yes.
Occasionally.
No.
Telly.
No.
Never.
No.
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.
First things first, Brave looks fantastic, and much of the scenery is borderline photo-real until the stylised characters come galloping into view. The 3D is nicely done (as usual with animated features) up to the scenes which take place in near-darkness, then it's a matter of guessing what's happening on-screen, what with the glasses helpfully protecting your eyes from the cinematic glare to begin with.
My biggest bugbear with the film is that it's a Classic Fable™ plot structure, told in an Exciting Adventure™ format, and the two don't quite meet in the middle. This kind of storytelling would work so much more convincingly if it'd been animated 20-30 years ago in hand-drawn 2D. I've nothing against 3D CGI, but it's really the wrong tool for the job here. There are frequent visual gags and slapstick which work, but again feel slightly out of place in what should be a grander telling, somehow. The voice-acting's largely on-par, but with characters as generic as these, the performers are limited to what they can actually inject into the proceedings. The only stand-out performance is Billy Connolly's, but a voice and delivery like his only serve to remind you that 'hey, that's Billy Connolly'.
But it's alright in a sort of largely generic way. Disney's writers have submitted a second-draft detailed outline, and Pixar's animators have made it look great. It's certainly better than I feared it might be, but nowhere as good as I'd hoped. The overriding theme is supposed to be about child-parent bonding and mutual communication, but what I picked up from it was 'Don't try and alter the future your parents have mapped out for you, you'll only fuck things up and it'll be all your fault.' Way to go, Disney.
Brave has all the edge of a marshmallow, and at times is just as sickly. It's heart's in the right place, but it lacks sincerity.
Enjoyable enough, all in all, but it left me with nothing.
DISCLAIMERS: • ^^^ That's dry, British humour, and most likely sarcasm or facetiousness.
• 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.
