Showing posts with label Florence Pugh. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Florence Pugh. Show all posts

Monday, 24 July 2023

Review: Oppenheimer


Oppenheimer
(Spoilers)
Cert: 15 / 180 mins / Dir. Christopher Nolan / Trailer

Oppenheimer is a three hour, period-set film about nascent nuclear weaponry from a provenly competent storyteller which somehow features neither a young Emmet Brown sitting in a physics lesson nor Indiana Jones in a fridge.

Christopher Nolan is a fucking coward*1.

And if I HAD to put a number on it…




*1 Okay, I'll keep this as brief as I can. The note about Doctors Brown and Jones is obviously a joke. The score is not. I did not enjoy Oppenheimer. Then again, I genuinely believe that it's a film not created for enjoyment in any traditional sense, quite a demanding piece to watch and unsatisfying by narrative necessity. We should certainly expect no less a challenge from Christopher Nolan though, just as we wouldn't want him to be anything other than himself as a filmmaker. I suppose.

Playing with non-linear storytelling once again, Oppenheimer is framed as two separate interviews with associated sets of intertwining and converging flashbacks, each spanning the same twenty-or-so years from different points of view, where the guy we're supposed to be rooting for is demonstrated as being a dysfunctional, womanising moral-vacuum who's figured out how to most efficiently carry out genocide before the nazis and complains non-stop about this before, during and after the fact. Leaving a spray of failed personal and professional relationships in his wake, we see Oppo systematically piss off just about everybody in his life and then act surprised when they take against him...

Of course, this wouldn't be a Christopher Nolan movie without mumbled, unintelligible dialogue from the most important characters, battling here against Ludwig Göransson's piercing, intrusive score in a sound-mix that was finalised while somebody was hoovering. All of this has the pacing and delivery of high-drama, but with the implication of a storyline rather than the exposition of one. I know Nolan doesn't like to spoon-feed his audience, but Oppenheimer doesn't even have cutlery on the table.

You see, despite the device itself having a supporting role on the film's poster, this movie is not actually about Da Bomb. This is just as well, because shortly into the first act Nolan realises he can't narratively simplify for the audience either quantum physics nor the workings of an atom bomb, so quickly stops trying. What the movie actually is, is three clinical hours of dislikeable characters doing unpleasant but necessary admin and then everyone being unable to cope with the fall-out (literal, as well as metaphorical) of that, interspersed with the micro-management of international and domestic U.S. politics of the 1930s, 40s and 50s. So I was hardly expecting Terminator 2, but this is lots (lots) of middle-aged white guys in suits sitting around withholding information and showing they really can't be trusted (I go to the cinema to get away from that), leaving the cinema audience with quite frankly nobody to root for. Other than the demonstrable sociopath the film is named after. I suppose.

In terms of moral debate, Oppenheimer occupies the same shelf as Eye In The Sky and Red Joan, where hand-wringing and thousand-yard stares nudge aside the brutal practicalities of Not Losing A War. I never thought I'd watch a movie where Matt Damon plays the most rounded and sympathetic character, but here we are.

While the two timeline strands are clearly delineated by the use of colour, the content in each rarely seems complementary or interactive enough to warrant the effort. Like several of the director's recent pieces, the presentation seems needlessly fiddly yet is perhaps the only thing saving a story which would otherwise be grindingly linear. But without a solid grounding in the U.S. politics surrounding the Second World War, it all comes out as a mess anyway. It certainly feels like there's a price of entry here that's separate from the one printed on the ticket...

Biggest bugbear: We know that test-bomb's not going to destroy the world, lads; we're all here in 2023 watching the film and we'd probably have heard about that before now.

Second biggest bugbear: So what are these clandestine, closed-room hearings for, exactly? What are the nefarious powers in faceless American government trying to do to Mr Oppenheimer, who single-handedly won all of that very specific part of the late-war for them? Are the Suits trying to have him silenced? Discredited? Ruined? Killed, even? No, they're trying to remove his security-clearance. They want his badge back, that's all. They don't want the guy swanning around the lab like he owns the place ten years after he built them a super-bomb and has done nothing since but wear out the buttons on the highly-subsidised coffee machine. Just have a bit of dignity and retire, Oppo. Jeez...

Oh and bonus points to Kenneth Branagh, failing to control an accent in a built-up screenplay. Again. Proof positive that our celebrated auteur director was either distracted on-set, or deaf.

In short (and I'll bet you wish you hadn't clicked into this footnote now), Chris Nolan has not made a genuinely great film since Inception. There, I said it. [ BACK ]

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.

Tuesday, 7 February 2023

Review: Puss In Boots - The Last Wish


Puss In Boots: The Last Wish
Cert: PG / 102 mins / Dir. Joel Crawford & Januel Mercado / Trailer

It feels somewhat disingenuous to call Puss In Boots: The Last Wish an unasked-for sequel, not least because the world's biggest unasked for sequel is currently still in cinemas and is by all accounts making ridiculous sums of money. Nevertheless, arriving eleven years after its direct predecessor, courtesy of two directors, two story writers and two separate screen writers, the feeling of a cinematic fifth-wheel remains...

The film follows Puss (voice once again by Antonio Banderas), as he recklessly finds himself on his ninth-and-final cats' life. Having heard the legend of a lost shooting star which crashed to earth and will bestow any wish upon the discoverer, our hero sets out on a quest to find it and be granted a reset of his feline power-ups. Along the way he is joined by jaded mercenary and former-partner Kitty Softpaws (Salma Hayek Pinault), and the brightly optimistic chihuahua Perrito (Harvey Guillén). The journey won't be easy however, as the trio are being tracked by evil business-magnate and collector of fabled antiquities Big Jack Horner (John Mulaney), as well as cockney crime-family Goldilocks and the Three Bears (Florence Pugh, Ray Winstone, Olivia Colman and Samson Kayo). To make matters worse, Puss himself is being stalked by the literal lupine personification of the grim reaper (Wagner Moura), intent on claiming the cat's final life for himself.


CENTRAL


Taking the good points into account first, the central narrative has a stripped-down simplicity which, while it never feels dumbed-down, will be ideal for the younger members of the audience to follow and enjoy. This is a straightforward treasure-based adventure, and the use of the map as a central plot-point (physically changing the terrain depending on who holds it) is a nice anchor point for the story to keep things firmly on-track. Banderas is enjoying himself immensely in the title role, Hayek is solid (although the mostly-subdued nature of her character means the actress' vocal performance is frequently drowned out, tonally), and Guillén plays 'annoying yappy comedy dog' in precisely the way you'd imagine. The supporting voice-cast are all having great fun, and mostly merge with their animated counterparts very well.

At 102 minutes including the credits this isn't overly-long, but nor does it feel padded out. The film is a PG rather than the expected U because of the wolf's characterisation, and a string of bleeped-out profanities from Perrito are played to maximum comic effect; but apparently Olivia Coleman saying that the cat-lady's house smells of piss is just a bonus. Fair. Everything here moves at a bright, brisk pace, and the story markers are set out clearly, with frenetic action sequences and careful exposition scenes carefully placed so as not to run into one another. It's just that...


GRANADA


...well, as a standalone action feature this is way more of a mess than Dreamworks should ever have put their name on. In addition to the scattering of writers and directors, the central characters have full CGI model-rendering complete with the associated fur texturing you'd expect to see. But many of the players further down the ladder seem to be working on reduced-polycount models, giving them an overly angular appearance reminiscent of 1990s animation. The surface-texturing is photorealistic in some places (the main characters, again), given a watercolour effect in others, and even just flat-shaded in a few. The movement and film style is standard for the most part, then drops into anime effects and editing for the fight scenes, but still with the full CGI models. The film is a headache for anyone looking for a coherent experience.

On top of all this, the script takes repeated pot-shots at Disney, using its fairy-tale-world setting to include IP-baiting references to Jiminy Cricket, Pinnochio himself, and the bag/umbrella motifs from Mary Poppins. This might be charming or even cheeky from an independent studio, but given Dreamworks' standing as firmly second-tier to the House Of Mouse it feels more than a little bitter. By the time you consider the dearth of cat-jokes that a movie like Puss In Boots seems custom-built to deliver (and did, last time), you begin to wonder if all of this happened because an executive found an old contract behind a radiator which tied Banderas to one more project.


Despite my moaning, Puss In Boots: The Last Wish isn't bad. But given Dreamworks' past glories, it's pretty far from great. The Last Film would have been a more reassuring title...



And if I HAD to put a number on 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.

Wednesday, 18 December 2019

Review: Little Women (2019)





Little Women
Cert: U / 135 mins / Dir. Greta Gerwig / Trailer



Greta Gerwig, a celebrated, dedicated and ascending storyteller of note, seems to have used her not inconsiderable clout to assemble what can only be described as A Dream Cast*1, and then used that pooled talent to craft the kind of twee, perfunctory, relentlessly-soundtracked costume drama which could have been knocked out by any TV director. So well done, I guess.

Now admittedly I am not in the target demographic for this, I haven't read Little Women or seen any of the fifteen previous screen adaptations, but I don't feel particularly enlightened for having been introduced to the story now. I can see what Gerwig has added structurally in her rendition, and while that's an interesting play I just couldn't find anything within the story itself to engage me. I don't believe in 'girl films' and 'boy films', just stories worth telling and worth telling well. This is characters shrieking over one another for two-and-a-quarter hours while I play Hunt The Redeeming Feature.

Is this a test?
Because if so, I'll be happy to wear a badge saying 'I Failed'.



So, what sort of thing is it similar to?
Oh, I don't know. Costume drama things, I suppose.
I mean I can see that it's a bit more than that, but it's definitely still similar to them
.


Is it worth paying cinema-prices to see?
Well if you're not bothered about the Skywalker family this December, the choice is between this, Cats and Playing With Fire. So good luck.


Is it worth hunting out on DVD, Blu-ray or streaming, though?
Sunday afternoon, wouldn't hurt.


Is this the best work of the cast or director?
It is not.


Will we disagree about this film in a pub?
I imagine so.


Is there a Wilhelm Scream in it?
There is not.


Yeah but what's the Star Wars connection?
Level 1: Amilyn Holdo is in this.


And if I HAD to put a number on it…


*1 Two things here, though. 1) Saorise Ronan, Florence Pugh, Emma Watson and Eliza Scanlen are all fantastic but do not, repeat not, look like sisters - am I to assume this is in some way intentional? 2) Despite him being 'a name' in 2019, I have only seen Timothée Chalamet in one thing, he was very good in it but I am now so fucking done with his shit it's not true, moping around the set with his pouting, winsome, simpering mannerisms like a haunted flannel soaked in Lambrini and regret. There, I said it.
[ BACK ]

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.

Monday, 8 July 2019

Review: Midsommar





Midsommar
Cert: 18 / 147 mins / Dir. Ari Aster / Trailer



Perhaps the biggest surprise with Ari Aster's claustrophobic folk-horror Midsommar is that it's found a release window (appropriately) in the height of summer, rather than the March/October slots usually reserved for more challenging fare.

We follow four young Americans (Dani (Florence Pugh), Christian (Jack Reynor), Josh (William Jackson Harper) and Mark (Will Poulter)) as they're invited for a month-long vacation by their friend Pelle (Vilhelm Blomgren) to his home village in northern Sweden. Rural and more than a little isolated, it's a special time of year for the villagers as they begin a series of longstanding celebrations. But they're more than welcoming to their new guests, and before long the gang are getting involved at every level, no matter how odd it all seems...

RAGING


Nobody does raging, existential paranoia quite like Ari Aster, and his film is surreal, soporific and in places bluntly unsettling. In other words, not something to watch when suffering from a hangover. This could easily have been Hostel for hipsters, but Aster has more restraint than Eli Roth, even if Midsommar does have moments which play like a psychopath's fever dream. It's tempting to think of this as experimental, but Aster knows exactly what he's doing here, and precisely what the outcome will be.

With Pugh, Reynor and Poulter onboard, there was always going to be an expectation regarding the performances, and the cast do not disappoint. True to the longstanding tradition of teen 20-something roadtrip flicks, the group basically spend the movie off their collective box on either over-the-counter pharmaceuticals, or a range of home-formulated psychotropics. There's an interesting contrast and crossover between the two, as American and European cultures clash.

FLORENCING


Once our travellers arrive in the village and start exploring, an array of overtly placed pictograms illustrates forthcoming plot-points, underlining the sense of inevitable ritual with the heroes eventually accepting their roles in a play they know can't be re-written. Although this determinism proves to be the film's only real downside, and ends up running like it's on rails. Beautifully shot and scored, hallucinogenically bleak rails, but still. Symbolism, foreboding and fatalism are plaited together until each becomes indistinguishable from the others, and the whole thing is stronger than the sum of its parts.

There's enough here for fans of mainstream horror (providing they can sit out the steadily paced two and a half hour runtime), but there's more to Midsommar than a straight A-to-B shockfest. And while there are spikes of flat-out scare-tactics during the first two acts, these are more akin to dramatic punctuation, a release valve for the escalating unease.

DOUGALLING


Aster takes his time almost to the point of self-indulgence, but when the shit finally hits the fan it's been well earned. Much like its A24 stablemate, A Ghost Story, this feels designed to test both the patience and resolve of its audience*1, with no promise of reward other than the first-hand experience of intricate art. It is a thing of terrible beauty.

Midsommar is great and definitely not for everyone, which only makes it greater. I can't wait to see what Aster does with his next adaptation, Bergüraac*2.



So, what sort of thing is it similar to?
The Ritual, mother!, Suspiria, The VVitch, Mandy.


Is it worth paying cinema-prices to see?
It is.


Is it worth hunting out on DVD, Blu-ray or streaming, though?
It is.


Is this the best work of the cast or director?
It is.


Will we disagree about this film in a pub?
That's a possibility.


Is there a Wilhelm Scream in it?
There isn't.


Yeah but what's the Star Wars connection?
Level 2: Well we almost had Han Solo in this, but Florence Pugh was in The Commuter alongside Liam 'Qui-Gon' Neeson.


And if I HAD to put a number on it…


*1 The patron next to me had a particularly hard time with some of the more graphic scenes, especially the jump-cuts that switch to close-up gory shots. If you're squeamish, this film is not for you and carries its 18-rating for a reason. [ BACK ]

*2 Sorry, obvious John Nettles joke, couldn't resist, no you shut up. [ BACK ]


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.