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'.
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.
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.
*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.
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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 now to the golden, rolling hills of Marin County California, home to Skywalker Ranch and the beating heart of all that is Star Wars. But we're not here for deathsticks, we're here for a tale of weed, pills, crystal meth and good ol' fashioned heroin. So closer to Ewan McGregor's turn in Trainspotting than Attack Of The Clones, then. Which might explain why my brain kept starting Lust For Life at inappropriate moments throughout Beautiful Boy…
Based on the twin-memoirs of the real-life protagonists, the story follows David Sheff (Steve Carell) as he tries to reconcile his teenage son Nic's (Timothée Chalamet) escalating addiction to a range of narcotics with holding together the rest of his family (Maura Tierney as David's partner Karen, and their two young children played by Oakley Bull and Christian Convery), and maintaining a civil relationship with his ex-wife and Nic's mum, Vicki (Amy Ryan). Earnest hand-wringing all round.
BOY My observation at the top wasn't just glib sarcasm, Beautiful Boy really is Trainspotting for the middle-aged, middle-class fan of generational angst, there are glimpses of bleakness at regular intervals, but on the whole it's a reassuringly safe journey, told from a father's perspective. That said, enjoyment of this film will depend largely on what baggage the viewer has brought in with them.
In an early conversation, Carrell's David has a conversation with his son who is just starting to seriously experiment with drugs. Nic tries to articulate his frustration but only manages something about 'blocking out stupid reality'. When the father asks in a state of genuine puzzlement "…what's stupid about reality?", everyone in the auditorium suddenly realises which side of the fence they're watching the movie from.
GOLDEN Delicately handled by director Groeningen, the end product isn't quite as syrupy as you might expect but tells most of its story from David's perspective and so avoids a lot of the grit. It often feels like Beautiful Boy is afraid to get its hands dirty, for the fear of not being able to clean them again in time for the closing credits.
Outstanding work from Timothée Chalamet throughout holds the whole thing together. Carrell, Tierney and Ryan are strong too, but this isn't their film. They're a supporting-cast in every sense, and are playing in far broader ways. Also worth noting is the solid casting of Kue Lawrence and Jack Dylan Grazer as younger versions of Nic in the intermittent flashbacks. Their performances aren't showy or overly foreshadowing, but they sell the evolution of the protagonist effortlessly (in all fairness, the only character in the film who actually appears to age).
Beautiful Boy isn't a perfect ride, and our director clearly has an eye on his awards-cabinet when that's unlikely to come to fruition, but it's made with sincerity. Perhaps ironically, that's both the film's biggest problem and its saving grace…
Beautiful Boy plays like a bittersweet sequel to The Way, Way Back, covering the next darker chapter where everything wasn't alright after all.
But the unfocused anger at the centre of it all is the same.
Only if you already know you're going to get the right things out of it. Which sort of defeats the object of watching a new film, admittedly.
Although it's perhaps worth noting that as evangelical as I am about my Unlimited card, I didn't get to catch the pre-Christmas advance screening of this and now it's not playing at my local. As a result, I did pay to watch this (albeit the £4.99 that Vue are charging in their region cinemas these days) and I rather enjoyed it. Make of that what you will.
It is.
Difficult to say, but everyone should be fairly proud of what they've made.
It's entirely possible.
There isn't.
Level 2: Timothée Chalamet was in Interstellar, alongside David 'Agent Kallus' Oyelowo, and John 'Yoda In The TESB Radio Drama' Lithgow.
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.
To That London now, and the slightly sniffy suburb of Kensington to watch Greta Gerwig's directorial debut, Lady Bird.
Beginning in Sacramento, California in 2002, the film follows high-schooler Christine (Saoirse Ronan), who is in the process of reinventing herself as 'Lady Bird', while trying to get accepted in a college far away from the city she feels she's outgrown, but also trying desperately to find her place while she's still there. It's a wonderful story of how everything is a right old fucking drama when you're a teenager, around half of it justifiably so. Scenes ensue.
Taking place over the course of about a year, Gerwig's screenplay is more a threaded series of vignettes than an outright coming-of-age tale. The focus here is on character and performance rather than narrative, and while this is a dedicated, affectionate work, my enjoyment was more limited to technical appreciation, smiles and laughs than forming any real, emotional connection. Then again, this is my stumbling block, not the film's, as it's clearly a very personal piece for its writer/director.
Preparing to leave a staunch Catholic school, Christine is at the point where stealing a jar of communion wafers to idly eat as snacks with her best friend isn't intended as an act of rebellion, just restless boredom; frustration at the imminent realisation that the thing actually holding Lady Bird back is probably going to be herself. Ronan is fantastic of course, although she's rarely anything but*1. Laurie Metcalf delivers a brittle, complex performance as Christine's embattled mum, and of all the relationships we see with the youngster's contemporaries, Lucas Hedges' Danny was the one I wanted more screen-development of. But in that regard, the movie is uncannily lifelike - lots of emotive noise threatening to drown out the things we should really be focusing on.
I enjoyed Lady Bird, I just didn't love it. Then again, this is a cultural snapshot of things I have no real frame of reference for, so that's not entirely surprising. But at the same time, I'd watch Saoirse Ronan reading the Yellow Pages for two hours, so…
Probably a buy-er, but maybe not on the day of release if that makes sense.
With the best will in the world, I don't think so.
Unlikely.
There isn't.
Level 2: This film's got Saoirse Ronan in it, who was in Atonement along with Keira 'Sabé' Knightley, Harriet 'Kalonia' Walter and Daniel 'Tivik' Mays.
*1 ...I won't mention the Ed She*ran video if you don't, okay? [ 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.
