Review: Suburbicon

Suburbicon
Cert: 15 / 104 mins / Dir. George Clooney / Trailer

"Hey guys! Have you ever noticed how creepy and disquieting that whole 'picture-perfect 1950s Americana' thing is, when you stop to look real close at it?"

~ pretty much all media, from around 1961 onwards.

Arriving in our cinemas like a flustered latecomer bearing flowers from a garage forecourt is director George Clooney with Suburbicon, starring Matt Damon as Gardner Lodge, an office clerk living in the idyllic L.A. suburbs with his young son Nicky (Noah Jupe), wife Rose (Julianne Moore) and her sister Margaret (also Julianne Moore). When their house is burgled and the robbers inadvertently end up killing Rose, the family are drawn into a web of suspicion and corruption, while racial tensions flare in the neighbourhood around them.

The film has been adapted by Clooney and co-writer Grant Heslov from a Coen Brothers script which dates back to 1986, and has had George's name attached to the project for the last twelve years. This staggered production pace certainly seems to have affected the movie's momentum on its journey, as the final product bears all the hallmarks of the Coens with little of the precision or wit. From the off, it's clear that Suburbicon has a far darker heart than the trailer suggests, but the dryness constantly vies for attention with the Quirky-Comedy™ aspects of the screenplay, and the two don't always sit well together.

The 1950s kitsch seems unduly exaggerated, and the outward 'sunny normality' of the setting isn't well enough established to offset the outright racism running in the sub-plot from the very beginning. In fact, the Lodge family's neighbours - the first Afro-Caribbean family to move into the previously-entirely Caucasian neighbourhood - seem to have their bare-bones story told in a parallel film that's been dropped into the edit, and while their characters occasionally interact with the main protagonists, the plot-strands themselves barely touch. Ordinarily, the decline in both family's fortunes would be used as a thematic counterpoint, their problems mirroring and contrasting. In Suburbicon, it just feels like there's a separate movie running on the next street.

There are some neat ideas, and it's clear what the screenplay was originally going to be, although making out what it became is a little harder. As with 2014's The Monuments Men, George Clooney brings a directorial softening which feels out of place telling a story which is, by definition, unpleasant. He's certainly got that 'Golden Age of Hollywood' touch, it's just not compatible here. Many of the quips and gags which worked well at the pace of the trailer are left floundering in a feature over an hour and a half long.

Julianne Moore and Matt Damon are as strong as the screenplay will allow, although their screen-son Noah Jupe brings the most complex and genuine performance of the whole movie (which I realise is very probably intentional, but with Clooney's direction one can never be sure). Oscar Isaac does well here as a slightly slimy insurance-claims investigator, but seems to be playing the part in the precise way that Clooney would have. I'm not sure if this is flattery on the actor's part, or narcissism on the director's. But the fact is that everyone else (and to a certain degree, Moore and Damon as well) feels half-written; cover-versions of Coen Bros characters intended for bit-part roles in a parody of a pastiche.

Suburbicon is an intriguing project, but it feels like the writers, director and editor all wanted to make different types of film. And to no uncertain extent, they succeeded...

George Clooney is hoping against hope you like things by the Coen Brothers.



It's a bit of a DVD-night-in, to be honest.



Not as well as it should and could.



Nope.



Nope.



Not that I heard.



Level 1: Poe Dameron's in this.







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.

Review: Hail, Caesar!

Hail, Caesar!
Cert: 12A / 106 mins / Dir. Joel Coen & Ethan Coen / Trailer



Ah, Joel and Ethan strike again, and masterfully, confounding the expectations I didn't even realise I had. Although I'd watched No Country For Old Men on its release, it wasn't until 2014's Inside Llewyn Davis (a film which baffles and beguiles me in equal measure to this very day) that I realised I'd never really latched onto the Coen brothers' work. While I still haven't digested the entire back catalogue, I thought I'd now seen enough of the classics to get a better handle on where they're coming from. To say that Hail, Caesar! wasn't the movie I was expecting isn't entirely fair, but it's not completely the tight, zippy caper that the trailer was selling either. And I only say all this because the Coens are, by this point, in a position to release exactly the film they want to be seen by audiences, produced and finished to their own standards. In short, I'd like to think that anything in this movie I didn't really 'get' was down to me alone. Although I still don't think that's the case...

Set in 1951 during the tail-end of Hollywood's golden-age, Hail, Caesar! follows Capitol Studios head 'fixer' Eddie Mannix, a man desperately trying to corral the studio's talent into behaving on-and-off camera and keep tinsel-town's press and gossip-columnists at arm's length, all the while struggling to make time for his domestic life and weigh up a lucrative job-offer from a global arms manufacturer. When the studio's most prominent A-lister, Baird Whitlock is kidnapped and held to ransom, Mannix has to pull strings and lean on contacts to retrieve him; and it's these twenty-seven hours that we spend in his company while he does it…

Throughout all of this, Hail, Caesar! is imbued with an impatient air clearly intended to come off as chaotic-farce, although it feels more like a general lack of focus. With the kind of casting we saw in Wes Anderson's Grand Budapest Hotel, a raft of tertiary characters are introduced which hang around too long to be cameos, but aren't written fully enough to be supporting roles (in fact, only one of these gets any real ending at all, the rest seem to be abandoned or given closure with a line of someone else's dialogue).

In much the same way that MGM's Singin' In The Rain was a film purposely assembled from disparate songs and set-pieces, there's almost a suspicion that Universal commissioned the Coen Brothers to make a comedy from sketches and ideas that were already lying around in one form or another. Although the movie just about works as a whole, some elements (and casting choices) work more smoothly than others, and there seems to be half a potential classic in there needing more development.

But there are some outstanding scenes in the film, the highlight of which for me was Ralph Fiennes and Alden Ehrenreich holding a script discussion which borders on Stewart Lee-levels of testing the limits of an audience's patience (I found it increasingly hilarious, the rest of the audience seemed to grow conversely irritated; complete with a punchline several scenes later which my fellow patrons didn't seem to acknowledge. The danger of being a comedy-snob, I'm afraid). When the script is sharp, you could shave with it; the rest of the time it kind of bumbles along amiably.

On an entirely personal level, I'd have enjoyed the film a lot more without Michael Gambon's narration pulling me out of the experience every twenty minutes or so. Partly because he's being the same Michael Gambon™ that he uses for his advert-work, devaluing the artistic currency of his CV with every smug utterance, but mainly because he needlessly narrates exactly what we're watching on-screen anyway...

By no means a failure, Hail, Caesar! is watchable enough but doesn't have the drive or insight we know the Coens are capable of. The film is a bit of a curiosity, and sometimes a bit of a mess.

Although I'll freely admit that it's a bit of a mess which I'll probably get more out of when I watch it again...

Grand Budapest Hotel, My Week With Marilyn, Singin' In The Rain.



Only if you're a purist, although both the film's setting and its setpieces are a glorious homage to cinema itself.



I'd say not quite, your mileage will vary.



It isn't.



I won't.



There isn't.



Level 1: Hail, Caesar! stars none other than Clancy 'Savage Opress' Brown.







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.

Review: Tomorrowland - A World Beyond

Tomorrowland: A World Beyond
Cert: 12A / 130 mins / Dir. Brad Bird / Trailer



And so, the House of Mouse jump into the fray with a live-action, original composition which isn't part of an existing franchise, something they've often had trouble with in the past. Inspired heavily by the Disney ethos of optimism, community and progress towards utopia, it's easy to dismiss the film as part fluff-piece and part adventure-by-numbers - especially if the trailers are all you're going off.

I was pleasantly surprised, however, as the film itself is a lot more confident and slick than those promos had suggested, opening with a George Clooney narrated, 1964 sequence which is part Joe Johnston's Rocketeer and part Howard Stark. Once the film works into the present day we're on more familiar ground, but it never loses that sense of adventure, thanks in no small part to central performances from Clooney as despondent inventor Frank Walker, Britt Robertson as his young charge Casey and Raffey Cassidy as Athena, an ageless robot audio-animatronic recruiter agent. Hugh Laurie gets to have fun as the film's quasi-antagonist, Governor Nix of the trans-dimensional Tomorrowland itself.

All credit to Disney for taking a very traditionally structured story and keeping it family-friendly without kiddy-fying too much. The potential is there for a much darker film (and in the right hands, arguably a much better one), but despite a few broad questions on the nature of fatalism, the closest we get to apocalyptic grit is a very Douglas Adams-esque subplot about an 'A-Ark' of creatives, scientists and engineers. The only real downside is that the film often seems to pleased with the mechanics of its own plot that it loses sight of the flow of it, leading to quite a bump for the audience when things are put back on track.

Fans of schlocky sci-fi, dimension-jumping and big adventure should enjoy Tomorrowland on a level enough to make it worth the watch. The film gets quite preachy in its third act, but its heart's in the right place, and I'll be interested to see what they do with a sequel.

And there'd better be a sequel, otherwise this has been a very expensive marketing exercise just to sell badges…

As much as I enjoyed it, I'm not sure that it is.



You probably won't get too many watches out of it until more installments come along, so a rental until it's cheap on the shelf.



Britt Robertson holds her own among the cast, and I haven't seen George Clooney having this much fun since From Dusk Till Dawn.



It does, but in a very round/about sort of way.



Nah.



Not that I heard.



As well as featuring a scene in a sci-fi memorabilia store packed (packed) with Star Wars merchandise old and new, Tomorrowland stars George Clooney, who appeared in The Men Who Stare At Goats alongside Ewan 'Kenobi' McGregor.



^^ That's a strong five, but a five nonetheless.




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.

Review: The Monuments Men

The Monuments Men (SPOILERS)
Cert: 12A / 118 mins / Dir. George Clooney




There's an impassioned speech, early on in George Glooney's The Monuments Men, in which Lieutenant Frank Stokes (Clooney) explains why, in 1943, countless works of priceless*¹ art mustn't be allowed to fall into the hands of Hitler for his planned über-gallery, and why he should be allowed to hand-pick a team of men*² to locate, liberate, and eventually return them. George explains that while you can kill people, a society will rebuild itself; but by destroying their achievements - their history - you're destroying their future. If you're not onboard by the end of this speech, you'll feel like you're trailing behind for the rest of the film.

I wasn't onboard by the end of that speech. Nor when he made it again half way through the film. Nor when he made it at the end while justifying why two of his team were killed*³. As "a creative" person myself, I can certainly see why the team existed, but it seems to me to be part of a cleanup operation, not something you do while people are still dying (although we do get a shot towards the end of the film where artworks are being destroyed, just to visually indicate that they are working in a timeframe).

But, my war-effort-resources-based gripes aside, is it any good as a film? Well, casting director Jina Jay has gathered together some of Hollywood's leading lights so that Clooney's screenplay can keep them apart for most of it. Shortly after the Aesthetic Avengers are assembled, they're scattered in teams of one and two around mainland Europe for Plot Reasons™, giving them little scope for development as their respective plates are spun haphazardly. The separate sub-threads mean a lack of overall screentime for all the characters*⁴, leading to a gross underuse of both Bill Murray and Cate Blanchett, and a general failure-to-bond with the cast. Thankfully, the exposition's trowelled on at regular intervals, so letters to loved ones and stirring speeches deliver what character interaction doesn't.

I did find that the film frequently reminded me of the best bits of Indiana Jones, Inglourious Basterds and Return To Castle Wolfenstein. But only in a way which left me vaguely disappointed that I wasn't engaged in one of those, instead. The Monuments Men seems too flippant to be a true story, and too formulaic to be fictionalised*⁵. In fact, the moment where Stokes' team finds a two barrels - full of the gold pulled from teeth of murdered concentration-camp prisoners - carries more emotional weight than the rest of the film put together, and if anything just serves to undermine the self-righteousness of the plot. A real plot which did actually happen.

Proof that truth really can be more mechanical than fiction, George Clooney has masterminded a thoughtful action caper which is light on both the action and the caper. By no means a bad film, it's just far more bland and ineffectual than an account of the Second World War has any right to be.

The film's better than the trailer, I'll give it that.



Not really.



Not in my opinion.



*shrugs*.



Only a tiny bit.



Nah.



There isn't.

How screen-accurate are those Aviators that Clooney wears during the film? I know that Aviators were a thing during the Second World War, but would they have been worn by someone who's not a pilot?

*¹ And artworks of lesser, more measurable, value as well, to be fair. But the film spends so much time concentrating on The Famous Paintings™ that you'd be forgiven for thinking otherwise.
*² Who, for reasons which aren't properly explained, aren't already on the front lines in Europe getting shot at.
*³ One of them was killed because he'd gone to look at a statue all on his own when he shouldn't have been there - fair enough, I suppose - but let's not forget that the other one was killed because he stopped to say hello to a horse and smoke a fag. No, seriously.
*⁴ Except George™, obviously. George™ is in this all the way through.
*⁵ What's that? The paintings you've been going on about for the last two hours and the statue you've been going on about for the last two hours are both hidden in the same mine at the end of the film, and the Russians are coming so you're racing against the clock, and the final bit of the painting is upturned and being used as a table which you discover at the last minute, and you've all got to push the minecart with the heavy statue in it together as a team towards a light at the end of a tunnel? Oh, right.


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.

Review: Gravity

Gravity (3D) (Vague spoilers - maybe)
Cert: 12A / 91 mins / Dir. Alfonso Caurón



It feels like it's been months that I've been seeing this trailered*¹, yet no matter which version it was, I wasn't able to imagine how Alfonso Caurón was going to make a ninety minute film out of a singular incident. As it turns out, there's more going on than that; certainly in terms of the events on-screen, but also in terms of what the characters go through (in other words: astronauts plummeting to earth is what happens in the film, but it's not what the film is about).

In addition to a fairly linear plot, Gravity keeps piling on the metaphor: some of it gleefully in-your-face, some of it gleefully vague. For much of the film, even the scenes with immense tension, there's a sort of dreamlike feeling which is excellently realised, but kept me detached from the action, and to a lesser degree, from the characters themselves. As the film goes on, it asks lingering questions over the nature of memory, faith and reality, and it's an admirable step for Caurón's team not to answer any of them completely. A larger problem, for me, was that I thought some of the questions themselves were too vague, and having one or two more characters on (or even off) screen could have defined them more clearly.

Visually, Gravity is absolutely stunning. The 3D is used wisely and well applied, but it pales into insignificance compared to the zero-gravity effects work. My brain didn't doubt, for one second, that every floating, gliding and smashing object in this film was actually in space, to the point where I don't want to spoil the illusion by watching any making-of docs. The sound design works hand-in-hand with the visuals, making it the most believable space environment I can remember seeing on-screen.

As much as I enjoyed Gravity, I found the thoughtful, introspective film was often being drowned out by the movie about exploding space-stations. The two facets of the story didn't sit together as satisfyingly as I'd have liked, but they're definitely both required to prop each other up. I suspect I'll get more out of a second-viewing where I can concentrate on the quieter moments.

If you can cope with the claustrophobia of only having two actors*² on screen, it's a fascinating ride. As long as you're not expecting Armageddon you shouldn't go too far wrong.

Sort of. And not really. Both?



Most of the time.



Almost certainly.



There is something magnificent about seeing this on a big screen.



No.



I will.



There isn't, but there are three instances of "I have a bad feeling about this". Personally I think that's too many, but you have to admire the commitment.

Can't ask the question I really want to ask without spoiling the film, I'm afraid. Once you've seen the film, hit me up on Facebook, and we'll talk.

*¹ Although that's largely because it has been months. Way longer than most publicity campaigns.
*² The few others don't really count. Come on, they don't really.

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.