The Personal History Of David Copperfield Cert: PG / 119 mins / Dir. Armando Iannucci / Trailer
A disclaimer. I haven't read Charles Dickens' David Copperfield. Also, I haven't watched any television, film or stage adaptations of David Copperfield. There's no agenda behind that, it's just the way these things fall. I've heard of it obviously, but the only Dickens I'm reasonably familiar with is A Christmas Carol, and even then it's only because some new adaptation is filmed almost every year. And it's not like I employ the same level of reverse-snobbery for his work as I do with Shakespeare's material.
So when I went to see Armando Iannucci's The Personal History Of David Copperfield this evening, I did so because I like its cast, I like Armando Iannucci and I trust them all to make an entertaining retooling of a thing I'm not familiar with in the slightest. This review is of the thing I just watched, not the thing I was expecting or the thing I was necessarily wanting it to be. And with all that in mind, this will either be the exactly the viewpoint you're after or the last opinion you want to read. Either way, you're very welcome...
JOLLY And what a delight it turns out to be. By definition of the material alone it's a far more jolly ride than Iannucci's previous cinematic outing, as he works Dickens' classic into a sprawling comedy of manners with tight scripting and sharp performances to match. Opening with a theatrical framing device, the whole thing has an air of knowing artifice, yet never waivers in its conviction. The film is energetic without tipping over into the chaotic, stagey without being forced. sumptuous without feeling stuffy.
Although Iannucci runs a wide social gamut of Victorian England, the grime of that era (in this story's settings) is barely present. Yet there's a detailed richness to the production design letting the audience know this is an aesthetic choice rather than a time or cost-saving measure. David Copperfield looks, and feels, gorgeous.
CHIPS
The cast are as superb as you'd hope. Dev Patel shines as always in the eponymous role, as does Jairaj Varsani as the younger Copperfield. At the film's height (and especially with Tilda Swinton involved), there's an almost Coen-esque farce going on, and it even begins to approach the claustrophobia and nightmare-logic of Aronofsky's mother! as reality becomes blurred and we're once again reminded of the narrated performance structure.
David Copperfield is a whistle-stop tour of a big-old book, and the two-hour runtime feels optimistically cramped in some places, while there are entire sections of the hero's life that would clearly benefit from a full, serialised adaptation for a more emotional connection. I'm reliably informed that some key story-elements have been altered here, although as this is the director's re-imagining of the saga, that's absolutely permissible*1. That Iannucci keeps masterful control of the whole thing is a credit to his dedication and enthusiasm for the source-text.
YSCIENCETHEATER3000 This is a timely companion-piece with Greta Gerwig's Little Women, both stylised adaptations of stories from the mid 1800s which are just as engaging for audiences today. Gerwig's film has more to say of course, but both channel the stunning vision of their writer/directors.
David Copperfield is snappy, stylised and consistently funny. But it's also a bit of a confection, almost a curiosity, and despite its period-setting this version won't be for everybody. Which is probably a large part of why I enjoyed it so much.
.
If it's your bag, certainly.
It is.
This should certainly be near the top of everyone's CVs for the foreseeable future.
*1 More 'strict' adaptations of David Copperfield already exist and will no doubt be made in the future. Think of this as the Dickensian equivalent of Cumberbatch's 'accompaniment' Sherlock Holmes, rather than Jeremy Brett's more canonical interpretation (even though this version of Copperfield is still set in its original time period). [ 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.
Ah, doctor! Do take a seat. Now, I suppose you're wondering why I called you here with such urgency. Well, it's the curious case of that Reilly chap. Yes, you know him, the moving-picture performer.
His latest cinematograph is causing quite the stir in the city so I've heard, and while many are claiming the work to be a calculated and prolonged insult to the memory of dear Sir A.C. Doyle, I suspect that's too obvious a ruse. No, what's troubling me more is what Reilly hopes to attain, or indeed contribute, by being party to the frittering of forty-two million new American dollars on such a blatant slander. Allow me to explain...
When I sat in my local amphitorium to witness Holmes & Watson, I did so in the company of only four other patrons, and less than a week after the presentation had made its West End debut. An hour into the programme, two of those left. Such is the fickle nature of comedy, one supposes.
Or perhaps not...
CHUCKLE You see, the odd snort and chuckle that the film does have to offer invariably comes from Reilly himself. Although whether this is down to the writing or his recital of those lines is a fleeting puzzle throughout.
Not content with having a comedic baseline of shrieking and basic slapstick, what passes for a script is perpetually in a race with itself to find the lowest common denominator that a 12A certificate will allow in any given scene. Because why stop at hitting the housekeeper Mrs Hudson in the face with a cricket bat, when there's her recurring slut-shaming in the jovial repertoire as well?
Although for all the film's warped gender politics, cheap racial jokes seem low on the agenda (although probably only because the cast is almost entirely caucasian), and The Americas come in for just as much of a heavy-handed societal ribbing as Britain. Small mercies.
BLUES The sloppy ADR is all over the shop, apparently demonstrating that the filmmakers didn't have a script they were happy with during the actual filming process. And much like the heavy-handed historical references, the British accents from the transatlantic players here are atrocious of course. But if these are not an outright deliberate affectation, they're certainly still intended to be part of the overall joke. And this script needs all the help in can get, in that department.
All credit is due to cinematographer Oliver Wood, for using an increasingly inventive series of camera angles to crop out any trace of modern London in the iconic landmark location-shots, all the while having each and every sequence somehow look exactly like it was filmed in mid-2018. Quite remarkable.
MARX While the stylised, slow-motion fight breakdowns certainly doff their hat duly in the direction of the underappreciated Guy Ritchie outings, they appear to be the the only actual Sherlock Holmes material that writer/director Etan Cohen*1 has consumed in researching his piece.
Indeed, there's the persistent feeling that with the grandiose Victorian setpieces, Cohen would very much like to channel a more broadly comic rendering of the works of Alan Moore. Albeit without having actually read any Alan Moore, so it seems.
Ultimately, this is Without A Clue for the Daddy's Home generation. In all honesty, the production does not put in enough effort to earn the true ire of audiences and critics, even if this laziness does not excuse the final, inevitable result.
SPENCER We don't necessarily expect better of Reilly's accomplice William Ferrell at this stage in his career of course, and while the high calibre of the rest of the turnout is frankly baffling, audiences can rest assured that if this film had been made at any other time with any other roster, it would still have been every bit as substandard.
In fact, the general breadth of the cast-list suggests a number of theatrical favours being called in, the likes of which we haven't seen since the days of Burke & Hare. And oddly enough, Holmes & Watson makes a striking companion-piece to that similarly sprawling, cinematic folly. In fact, it often appears the powers-that-be may have employed two casting directors, in order to secure this number of accomplished actors who should know better*2.
ALLSOPP But whereas the array of supporting players could argue their involvement with the project was minimal to the point where they'd have little idea of the general direction and aesthetic of the finished work, our man Reilly has no such thespic alibi. He knew what this was, knew what it was meant to be and damned well continued anyway.
The fact that our subject, representing 50% of the leading actors in this piece, can currently be heard elsewhere in the same cinema as the voice of the affable Wreck-It Ralph and is imminently due to take the reins with a touching turn as one of cinema's most iconic comedians, leads me to deduce that Jonningsworth Cuthbert Reilly is actually a pair of twins masquerading as one actor - desperate to milk both ends of the cinematic spectrum but willing to commit to neither.
Elementary, really. Much like Holmes & Watson's approach to comedy...
Sadly, this represents a persistent trend with the latter-day oeuvre of Mr William Ferrell.
Good heavens, no.
Were one to find this production on display in a machine on the promenade whereby a halfpence is inserted and the operator manually replays the story in faux-privacy, one would still have been overcharged. The only upside to this being of course that it can be easily stopped as soon as the grave error of judgement is realised.
I think not.
Why certainly, if you were to sing the film's praises.
There is one particular moment where a hearty brawl takes place at a dockside, and it sounds for all the world like Private Wilhelm makes an auditory cameo appearance in the background. Although given the subtlety of this blending and the corresponding lack thereof elsewhere in the film, I find this difficult to believe.
Level 1: 'Sheesha Smoking Guest' is in this. Dude doesn't even have a name yet, Solo came out in May. What's the GFFA coming to?
*1 Spare a thought for the justly-celebrated writer/director Ethan Cohen, every time one of Etan's films is released and he has to spend the following two months explaining that no, that wasn't one of his. [ BACK ]
*2 The BAFTA award-winning Rebecca Hall, the EMMY award-winning Kelly Macdonald, the NTA-nominated Pam Ferris, the Golden Globe-winning Hugh Laurie, the BAFTA award-winning Steve Coogan, and RTS award-winning Rob Brydon.
Although let's leave Ralph Fiennes out of this, obviously. His lack of judgment is well documented... [ 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.
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 robotaudio-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.
A disclaimer. I haven't read Charles Dickens' David Copperfield. Also, I haven't watched any television, film or stage adaptations of David Copperfield. There's no agenda behind that, it's just the way these things fall. I've heard of it obviously, but the only Dickens I'm reasonably familiar with is A Christmas Carol, and even then it's only because some new adaptation is filmed almost every year. And it's not like I employ the same level of reverse-snobbery for his work as I do with Shakespeare's material.
