Review: Boychoir the Sounds of Heaven with Reservations

BOYCHOIR

Starring: Dustin Hoffman, Kathy Bates, Eddie Izzard, Debra Winger, Kevin McHale, Garrett Wareing

Directed by: Francois Girard
Screenplay:  Ben Ripley

109 minutes Rated: PG

When an 11 year old Texan boy with a magical singing voice ends up at the National Boychoir Academy it’s just got to turn out well doesn’t it? Add to that the kid has ‘issues’, not clearly defined but mainly spontaneous anger perhaps stemming from a drunken mother (oh well she dies), and there’s some sour to add to the sugar.

Francois Girard directs ‘Boychoir’ adequately but not exceptionally. It is tight at times and sloppy at others.  What he does do well is give us a story of a voiceless young man finding his voice through song and the choir. That is done convincingly and assuredly but that doesn’t always carry over to some of the performances and the script.

Hoffman’s performance has been lauded but I think there are significant lapses and falling back on technique and ‘tricks’ in his portrayal of the rigid choirmaster Carvelle. He often comes into a scene delivers a line or a pithy retort and then (invariably) walks out. That gets tiresome quickly and really doesn’t fit in with the arrogant and self-confident character he otherwise appears to be. I think he

would stand his ground every time until there was compliant silence and then maybe go but the petulant storming off was odd. He is also uneven in his delivery, sometimes dramatic and theatrical and other times natural, soft and endearing. The mix (and I think both styles were valid for this character) was not even handed and sometimes not logical.

At times Hoffman was in fact shown up by Garrett Wareing making his big screen debut as Stet. He is a bit unassured and awkward at times but somehow that fits in with the ‘troubled’ and confused angry kid. The script never requires him to have the redemptive ‘Oscar speech’ which might have tested his acting licks but I believed his performance and that’s a key goal to kick surely.

The usually reliable and ‘truthful’ Kathy Bates also struggled at times, only really rising in one dramatic moment. I think she was meant to be dominant and a bit feared but she seemed very wishy washy and hesitant.

The stand out for me was Debra Winger who featured at the beginning and returned towards the end. Playing the head of the young boy’s school Ms Steel, and his advocate, she was completely believable and strong.  We don’t see her enough in movies and I hope this is the platform to see more of her.

Eddie Izzard as Drake, is also a good ‘baddie’ but suffers from it being underwritten. He makes a good fist of the role but its thinness necessitates an archness that might otherwise not have been so if better written.

‘Glee’ graduate Kevin McHale throws away his wheelchair to put in a great, warm performance as Woolly the teacher. I look forward to seeing more of him in the years to come. He has a nice naturalness and his relationships with the choir and his ‘management’ colleagues convinced.

Josh Lucas has a small but pivotal role as Stet‘s father. It is surprisingly well written for such a small role and helps to produce a good performance which has a number of levels that he treks through very well. The same qualities he brought to ‘Red Dog’ show in this film and demands he gets the same sort of meaty and demanding roles that the likes of Ryan Gosling and Matthew McConaghey get, he is equal to the task.

Thinking about it, shouldn’t a film with characters named Stet, Woolly, Drake and Steel be (yet) another Marvel instalment? Tangent…

There is a lot to like about ‘Boy Choir’ and I did. The beautiful, beautiful voices in the choir scenes, the emotional points and the sheer decency of the story are what make the film. I was a weepy mess for a while after (poor man at the coffee shop must have worried whether I was distressed by the froth on my cappuccino). Attention to filmmaking and acting aspects plus another draft of the script would have made it unmissable.

Wait for the DVD.

3 out of 5

When Power Trumps Mercy

I share the sadness of the killing of Andrew Chan and Myuran Sukumaran, the pointlessness particularly, the barbarity as well and the heartlessness above all.

I don’t agree with the death penalty anywhere for any reason so I have a basis of bias from the start. It doesn’t work, it isn’t decent and it is a grand hypocrisy to decry and sentence a person because of the horrific nature of their crime and then commit as horrific a one ourselves. It’s a grotesque nonsense.

The way that this has been handled by Indonesian authorities, particularly the judiciary and the Presidency is troubling. There has been in the last months a callous disregard, even a chest thumping glee and the series of inchoate acts by them which almost seemed to be arrogant and immature at times. My observations on what has troubled me in this matter:

• The dramatic, muscular demonstration of force when the prisoners were transferred to the execution site in the army vehicles
•  The lack of acknowledgement of the rehabilitation of the two men over the ten years of imprisonment
•  The discourtesy of not responding to approaches made to the Government
•  Having a warship circling the prison island after the transfer of the men
•  Initially saying those being executed could not have their chaplains with them at the end
• The gloating and insensitive appearance of the Indonesian Attorney General at Nusakambangan after the executions boasting that they were ‘more perfect than the last’ (executions).

There are two matters before the justice system in Indonesia arising from the Chan/Sukumaran cases. One is that the President was not acting in accordance with the Constitution in the ways he approved the executions and dealt with clemency pleas. The other is that of alleged corruption by and in the courts where the judges that sentenced the Bali nine duo to death, allegedly asked for more than $130,000 to give a prison term of less than 20 years rather than death. Pretty serious stuff.  If the first matter is proven then the President would likely be asked to review the pleas accordingly BUT no point anymore and anyway he has said any outcome would not be made retrospective which is awfully convenient isn’t it? If the second matter is proven then one would think that any judgments made by the people accused would have to be overturned and trials either declared as mistrials or retried. The best that can be achieved would be that the two Australians would receive a pardon or a posthumously commuted life sentence.

Here’s the odd thing about the death sentence in this case and I might just be a bit dense. Those who supported the death penalty said that if the drugs they were carrying had have made it to Australia and got out to the community it could have caused death and harm. That is absolutely undeniable but it’s a pretty big if and I wonder if it makes one bit of sense to put someone to death when the harm did not occur. Not only did not but would not because the AFP knew about the stash, knew who was doing it and knew when they were leaving the country. They took their ill-judged step to tip off the Indonesian’s presumably to have the smugglers detained and to avoid any chance of the drugs getting to Australia. Job done, ends achieved if you’ll pardon the unfortunate phrase. Will we now execute someone who plans a murder but is caught beforehand? Maybe we’ll give lethal injections or the chair to a would-be hijacker who is caught at the airport before he gets on the plane? The point of apprehension and a rock solid case is that it prevents the planned crime. Of course you would imprison or rehabilitate these kinds of offenders but to off them when they haven’t done the worst is baffling.

Finally there is a dichotomy in a President having a tough stand on drugs which is fair enough but whose country has no harm-reduction strategies for users in its platform. Surely finding ways to get people of drugs is a good way to impact the ‘business model’ of traffickers and smugglers. It might also be worthwhile getting drugs out of the prisons where they can be purchased openly and cheaply. Indonesia has about 60% of its prison population continuing drug users and a hefty proportion are HIV positive because of the exchange of used syringes.

But how does Indonesia handle this? Not with compassion or assistance but by having some of the world's harshest laws against the trafficking but also the consumption of drugs. Effectively there is no difference under Indonesian law between dealers and users and those laws seem to be more and more draconian and yet the problem is not going away. You have to wonder if the publicity of executions and the tough talk is more attractive (and more politically important)than helping the drug industry to wither away. What kind of President wouldn’t rather act to see his most vulnerable citizens be well and drug free rather than pursue headlines, appear tough and prop up short sighted policies and politics?

Reality check: Not one person will stop buying, taking or smuggling drugs because of what happened on that desolate island on Tuesday night. President Joko has established himself now as a play thing of his enemies, they bark he responds. People will die in the streets of Indonesia, others will continue to buy and sell in Bali and the pockets of the real mongrels in the prison and judicial system will continue to be lined. That’s where the scourge of drugs in Indonesia is. For most of the last ten years it was never in Andrew Chan or Myuran Sukumaran’s hands. They made a stupid mistake and then they did better.

More than can be said for the process and the President that killed them.  When power trumps mercy!

My deepest sympathy to the family, friends and legal teams of those we've lost.

Review: x + y equals a Good Film

x + y

 

Cast: Asa Butterfield, Sally Hawkins, Rafe Spall, Eddie Marsan, Jo Yang, Martin McCann
Director: Morgan Matthews
Screenwriter: James Graham
Rated: M        111 minutes

A film with Sally Hawkins, Rafe Spall and Eddie Marsan just has to have a head start on most other films surely. If you are doubtful, run along to see the wonderful ‘x+y’.
 

Asa Butterfield who starred in the equally wondrous ‘Hugo’ and the ineffably fine ‘Boy With the Striped Pyjamas’ adds to the talented cast as Nathan, a teen prodigy who finds himself as part of the British team competing in the International Mathematical Olympiad.

Nathan is somewhere on the autistic spectrum (will we ever get a film about someone on the autism spectrum who is a bit dull or not particularly ‘special’?) and has issues with intimacy, change and competition. His world cracks further when his dad Matthew is killed in a car crash where Nathan is the passenger. The closeness and trust he had with his father isn’t matched with his mother Julie. The poignancy of Nathan and Julie’s distance is gutting.
 

Into Nathan’s life comes the potty –mouthed cynical Martin delightfully played by Rafe Spall. We learn he was once a maths prodigy himself and had a go at the IMO too, but now he has multiple sclerosis, a selection of demons and a fondness for the bottle and a fading career to contend with. He coaches Nathan well though and gets him into the competition and the care of the somewhat overbearing coach Richard (a terrific turn by Eddie Marsan). Oh and Richard was Martin’s bête noir back in the day and delights in reminding Martin of what a disappointment he was/is. Nathan goes off to Taiwan for the competition, meets the delightful Zhang Mei (Jo Yang) from the Chinese team and some of Nathan’s self-containment starts to slip.

Asa is compelling as Nathan, hardly having any dialogue for the first half of the film and very small amounts in the second half. The gift of his acting is that he conveys so much without words, behind the stillness and when he does speak every word has meaning and often huge impact. There are many more experienced older actors who could learn from this young man about character and conviction, impact and depth. The scenes with Zhang Mei are lovely counterpoints to Nathan’s imperviousness and the ill-fated romance makes one totally on side of the couple. Similarly poor Julie’s heartache in not being able to engage with Nathan and ‘feel’ his affection is beautifully unbearable (tissues required).

My only criticism is that the film goes one storyline too far with Julie and Martin but while inauthentic it's not unbearable.
 

This is director Morgan Matthews first feature but he previously made a documentary called Beautiful Young Minds about (did you guess, clever clogs) Olympiad competitors. He does a really good job taking the factual into fiction, adding the ‘meat’ of the back story and Nathan’s growth.  I read that the character of Nathan is loosely based on Daniel Lightwing, one of the documentary’s protagonists.

 

There are references and allusions to patterns in Nathan’s outlook, the film’s structure and in some ways the script is clear throughout the film in its symmetry. It has a rigour that could have been eased up a bit but overall it’s all realised exceptionally well and convincingly. Add to this the strong visuals, especially the shots in Taiwan and the slightly off kilter perspectives to presumably match Nathan’s world view, make for an almost poetic package. I also loved the wistful (although occasionally humorous) songs credited to Mearl, nice touch.

It’s a joy to watch the cast in this story and it’s a delight to watch a good idea developed into a credible and charming film. I looooved it.
 

4 out of 5

A Different ANZAC story

I have been a pacifist for the majority of my life. I don’t ‘get’ militarism and it makes me sad to contemplate that in the 21^st Century a military response is still the reflex response to conflict between nations or sometimes even within. One of the happiest times in my school life was when  I was in the school brass band for a couple of years (trombonist, still love the bones)but it all became less happy when to be a member of the band you had to also be in the army school cadets. I played along with that for a few months, went on a bivouac or two, was roared at and humiliated by some loud voiced bullies, but eventually quit both the cadets and the band.

I was at school in the 60s and 70s as the Vietnam War was being waged and was left to wonder why we were there and left to wonder if it went on how likely it was that my birthdate would pop up in the macabre marble ‘lotto’ and I’d be conscripted. It was a dirty pointless war and I’d be a conscientious objector. There’d be a clash of my ethics, pacifism, with my morbid fear, jail.  Would I run away and hide or top myself (what a dichotomy to choose not to go off and kill and yet take my own life because of fear)? Ah well it was a fleeting dilemma because thank goodness Gough put an end to the pointlessness and ended both conscription and our involvement in Vietnam.

Being a child of the 60s and 70s I also saw the decline in Anzac Day. Our Vietnam folly was partly to blame, most of the population disagreed with it and many of the old diggers from previous wars disparaged it. To our shame the soldiers returning from Vietnam were shunned, scorned and vilified. Very few people turned out to witness the Anzac Day marches/marchers and many doubted it would last beyond the mid-70s and many thought good riddance.  

And then we grew up.

And then we wondered how we could be so dumb, so unfeeling, and so reckless.

There are two men in my family, my mother’s uncle William and my father’s brother Douglas that I know of who went to war. William enlisted in 1916 and Douglas in 1940 so two men, different wars.

I knew Uncle Doug’s story from talking to him and from what he had told my father. He had been to the Middle East and saw the horrors of New Guinea during his five years of service. He wasn’t reluctant to talk about his service (at least to me) but I didn’t ask him too much such is the pious piteousness of we pacifists. Gosh he was a good man, a kind man and he served his country well. I always remember once asking him for advice if I should ever be called up and he simply grinned and said ‘Don’t go’.   

I knew nothing about Great Uncle William except that his name was on the war memorial in Wangaratta, listed as A. Bull because he was known in his family by his middle name Angus (not uncommon in the first half of the 20^th Century). With the centenary of Gallipoli and the coming commemorations of centenaries of different battles in WW1 I wondered about him.

The National Archives are a mine of information and that was particularly so for my research on William, ‘Bill’, Angus. I got to know a stranger whose story is simple and sad.

W.A. Bull was born in 1886 and grew up just out of Wangaratta. He was a hard worker and that work was mostly on farms where he was diligent and attentive, much loved in his family and much admired by his mates. The quiet simplicity of a bush life, when modern Australia was but 100 years old, a population of not quite five million, many of Ned Kelly’s family and victims were still alive and Australia had only been a Federation for a bit over a dozen years, was shaken up by events on the other side of the world. The other side where few had travelled to but many of the population had travelled from or were descended from those who had. School wasn’t compulsory yet so it was the lucky few who could read and write, it was a hot, dry country with no air-conditioning, no flush toilets and food came from the land not from the supermarket freezer. The newspapers brought the story of Gallipoli to the citizens of Australia and a year later William enlisted to join the army. He was on his farm in Tarrawingee, a town many of you may never heard of.

After a period of training in Wangaratta and Seymour William boarded the HMAT Shropshire, along with fellow servicemen of the 37^th Battalion at Station Pier Port Melbourne on September 25^th 1916 for the six week journey to Britain. I wonder what was on his mind as he left a tiny, tiny hamlet in country Victoria to board a huge ship and seeing places like Durban on route before arriving in Plymouth on November 11th.

On the 16^th November he was ‘marched into 3^rd Division Amalgamated Training at Battalion Hurdcott on the Salisbury Plains near the village of Fovant. This training was described as ‘long, intensive and thorough’ much of which was under the personal, exacting and relentless control of Major-General John Monash. The 37^th Battalion set foot in France on November 23^rd 1916.  At this time William would still have been engaged in his training at Hurdcott and imagining where his military career was about to take him in the next wave of the 37^th to be transferred to Europe, most likely just after Christmas. On the 17^th November he was ‘marched out’ to 10^th Training Battalion in Durrington.

His Christmas Day was likely uncomfortable and unpleasant because on Boxing Day 1916 Private William Angus Bull was admitted to Lucknow Isolation Hospital Tidworth ‘dangerously ill’. He was transferred to Fargo Hospital the following day. His parents John and Annie were sent a telegram advising them of his illness. He was diagnosed with cerebro spinal meningitis and sadly passed away on January 2^nd 1917. I was born 40 years and 27 days later.
William is buried in Tidworth Military Cemetery nearby.

He never married.

He had no children.

He left behind a grieving father and mother, two loving brothers and a sister. His brother, my grandfather, would find every subsequent Anzac Day a painful, heartbreaking reminder of his older brother’s death. That gives the day meaning, that makes it matter.

I think of my great uncle willing to give his life for his country, maybe even looking forward to getting ‘stuck in’, a bit trepidatious sure, perhaps even scared but willing.  But instead he ends up in a far off country, in a hospital, in pain, dying and no doubt cared for by kind and compassionate medics and nurses but without his mum, without a wife or partner, no child to think of, his mates probably ready to head off to France or the Front. I wonder if he was lonely, I wonder if he cried.

A few years back I visited that strange place Stonehenge on the Salisbury Plains. Little did I know that only a few miles from where I wandered William had trained and passed away about 80 years before. I am pleased to know his story and I will remember him. On 2^nd January 2017, God willing, I hope to stand with some of the family in front of the war memorial and acknowledge the centenary of his passing.

So all ANZAC stories are not stories of heroics on the field; some are smaller stories but they matter too. And that’s why Anzac Day has meaning.

I once stood at the military cemetery in Cambridge and also at Arlington. The white crosses and white tablet headstones, those thousands of memorials, the sad sea of white, those rows of grief and broken hearts are each a mark of a single person and a single story. They are called ‘memorials’ because we have to remember.

I wonder if we can ever remember to not have to lay another cross or plant another stone.

I wonder what world we might have today if all the William Angus Bulls had have lived.

I just wonder about it all.

Lest we forget.    

Review: A Little Chaos is Very Smoooooth

A Little Chaos 

Starring: Alan Rickman, Kate Winslet, Matthias Schoenaerts

Directed by: Alan Rickman

Screenplay: Allison Deegan

Rated: M           117 Minutes

 

Alan Rickman is a gem of an actor, I saw him on stage in 'Private Lives' and he managed to make the whole thing sexy, and now likes to direct. Mind you his languorous acting style might be more of Alan than we thought for it has taken him seven years to return to directing after his debut 'The Winter Guest' back in 1997. I guess you can't rush some things.

 

So we find ourselves in Louis XIV's France in 1682, mostly at Versailles where Kate Winslet gets to furrow and burrow as the landscape designer Sabine De Barra. The widow is brought in by Chief Garden guy Andre Le Notre (Matthias Schoenaerts) to transform a sludgy, muddy section of the massive Palace gardens into an exciting geometrically underpinned amphitheatre. She's a woman so her undertaking is far from welcome and the film follows some of the undermining that goes on. It doesn't help that her plans are vivacious and innovative in a time of entrenched (even possibly mandated) mundanity. Sidebar: I think it's highly doubtful there were any women working let alone in such positions back 'then', after all this is the time of the classically defined ladies - a woman paid NOT to work.

 

There be a lot going on in that Court and Palace let me tell ya', hot bed of gossip and intrigue doesn't quite cover it. Good fun and a little bit shocking too.

 

Rickman (who also has a fine, purse lipped, turn as Louis) captures the period well especially the frivolity that ensued and manages to finesse the somewhat mannered script (I felt even a little too 'modern' at times) into a neat tale and almost pitch perfect. There's not much new here but there is a lot to enjoy. I saw Rickman's stage experience in the visuals; the aspect ration is tight and limiting but enables him to move scenes through in a theatrical style. Even the blocking and settings are as though on a theatre stage. Let me tell you a lot of the movie is simply beautiful to look at. I think the magnificence would have been enhanced if done on widescreen; the camera could have roamed widely and really given us something spectacular. Maybe the participation of BBC Films demands a 'TV' aspect but with widescreen TV now I'd have thought that was a bit old fashioned.

 

There is a magic, stunning scene where Sabine comes into a salon full of women attached to the Palace and they talk about 'stuff' - it is moving and wonderful, a delightful moment. 

 

On beauty I must say Kate Winslet is gorgeous in this film, there are some shots of her that make you want to shout out 'oh my god', seriously. I've always thought she was above the pack but in this one she is stratospheric. And that's before her finely tuned and convincing portrayal of a woman with a fair amount of sadness and good reason to just stay at home and not face the world. Then she comes into the world of the noble and the rich (well seemingly rich, actually they were pretty broke) and try to find acceptance. Sabine brings a little chaos to rigidity and certainty which Kate delivers perfectly.

 

Matthias Schoenaerts does well in the role of Le Notre but it's not great. He was terrific in 'Rust and Bone' but I'm not sure he gave enough in this one. Not to say he wasn't good, just not good enough and to be fair it could be that the role is a little simply drawn, not exactly a 'deep' character although I'm sure such a man would have a bit going on.

 

This is a visually stunning film, well directed although it could have been bigger and better viewing wise. It avoids the overstatement and grandeur as an excuse for camp or d-r-a-m-a to match the scale. It once or twice wanders off the point but is mostly tight and confined and this is the strength Rickman brings. It made for a rewarding and rich experience with a nice glimpse into a story supposedly based on historical characters and facts (debateable).

A good movie to enjoy in a comfortable cinema with a nice snack and a refreshing beverage. Sit back and let it was over you - makes for ideal movie going.

 

Cheers - Salut!

 

3 out of 5

 

 

Review: Love Is Strange...This Film Is Sweeeet

Love Is Strange

Starring: John Lithgow, Alfred Molina, Marisa Tomei and Charlie Tahan
Directed by: Ira Sachs
Written by: Ira Sachs and Mauricio Zacharias
Rated: M     114 Minutes

How about those gays eh? They always have such exciting friends, actors, writers, artists. With those friends they’re always have fabulous dinners and parties and always manage to get the best seats at the theatre or invites to opening nights at exhibitions or ‘happenings’. Their families are always eclectic and supportive, although there is the mouthy and judgy sister and dad seems a bit oh-I’m-not-sure-about-all-this.  And boy do they know how to dress! It’s all so fun, even with the drop of angst and pathos Disneyland really should open GayLand so we can all get a bit of that.

Well at least according to movie makers.

‘Love is Strange’ gives us the story of artist Ben (John Lithgow) and music teacher George (Alfred Molina) who get married after 40 years as a couple. Making it legal and making them happy; oh good times.  Strangely the school George teaches at decides getting married is just not on for their highly respected and much loved staff member so they sack him. Bit of a stretch no? Oh well it gives a good stepping off point at least so let’s just go with it, feel a bit miffed and start rooting for the underdog so we can all get through this together.

The dismissal causes somewhat of a financial squeeze, especially in the high priced New York apartment scene and so they have to sell their West Village home. George looks for somewhere affordable, stays with neighbours (a couple of gay coppers) while Ben moves in with his niece Kate (played by the wonderful Marisa Tomei) in Brooklyn. The moving in requires Ben to take a bunk with the obligatory troubled teenaged son Joey (Charlie Tahan). Kate's a writer and Ben is always around, a constant distraction, Joey needs his 'space' and of course no one 'gets' him, while George is too old to couch-surf and can live without all the hot young bods constantly partying around him. As this all plays out what becomes evident is how neither is complete without the other, they are the epitome of a 'couple'. So when the system forces them apart what made them a great team becomes clearer, And this is where the film shines, where it gives us its heart.  

Ira Sachs has directed thoughtful and funny, sometimes moving story of a loved up and caring couple. They just happen to be two older blokes but, apart from the necessary nods to a same sex relationship, that is really neither here nor there and is not amplified to any extent. This is a story of a union, a loving unit overcoming physical separation. It tells us family is a safety net while at the same time being a troublesome smothering force and a swag of complexity when everything else militates against us.

And, I think Ira and co-writer Mauricio Zacharias have given us a reminder about resilience. 

This is a quiet, gentle film with sweet and sure performances from Lithgow and Molina. There is no yelling, no shrillness, it whispers and speaks to us; there is no shouting or speaking at us. And there is a bit going on that catches up with you later when you think about the movie. Ben and George have one kind of relationship but look over here at the relationship between Kate and her hubby Elliott (played in a rather odd, non facially expressive way by Darren E. Burrows). The men just want to be together, they need to be, the niece and husband seem to be a couple together out of habit, of expectation. Interesting.

I want to mention Charlie Tahan as the troubled teen Joey. This could have been a clichéd performance of a slightly underwritten character but Tahan turned it from a closed-in and confounding young man with a broken and yearning heart, wanting the 'more' of life that he can't quite get clear in his mind. Ben isn't his saviour by any means, nor his soul mate, not even guiding light. BUT he did make a difference and the exquisitely underplayed denouement is heartbreakingly beautiful thanks to Charlie's acting.

This film could have gone in so many different directions and could have ended up as a campy, cloying gay rom com. It did not and was not, thank goodness.

Go see it and feel that little bit uplifted for at least the rest of your day.

Do you ever wonder though about the young gay bloke who works as oh I don’t know a baker perhaps and does his work, goes home, maybe has an occasional fling but mostly lives a quiet life at home and with his friends and workmates, isn’t into any ‘scenes’. He doesn’t hide his sexuality, isn’t at all bothered by it and no one else seems bothered by it. Ever wondered who’s making the movies for him to relate to, to see himself portrayed in? Or is it only ‘interesting’ or ‘valid’ when difference is ‘noticeable’ or somewhat ‘more’?

Just sayin’.

3 out of 5

Review: Ida, all perfectly black and white

Ida

Starring: Agata Trzebuchowska and Agata Kulesza
Directed by: Pawel Palikowski

Written by: Rebecca Lenkiewicz and Pawel Pawlikowski

82 Minutes   Rated M

I don’t dream in black and white (seriously, does anyone? Come on…) I don’t often take photos in black and white and my TV gives me beautiful color, even HD programs. Occasionally though some arty could will make a movie in black and white, aren’t they clever little things?

One thing a black and white film can suggest very well though is austerity and this is certainly true of the Polish movie ‘Ida’ beautifully directed by Pawel Pawlikowski. You could be forgiven for thinking it is a film made in another era altogether with a boxy aspect ratio added to the monochromatic film stock.

Anna is a young novitiate in a rural convent where she grew up as an orphan. One day in 1962 her Mother Superior lets her know she has an Aunt Wanda living in Gdansk and orders Anna to make contact with her aunt before she takes her vows. Obediently Anna hops off to Gdansk and is greeted by Wanda who answers the door puffing on a cigarette in the afterglow of a one night stand (he’s quickly dressing in the bedroom).

We find out that Wanda is a formerly highly respected jurist who takes an interest in Anna leading them to spend a few days together, travelling to their family’s former home and retracing footsteps and unpacking dramas and events that were Poland’s (and the family’s) lot during the second World War. The village and the family’s home are wonderfully rendered, you’ll be reaching for the shawl or jacket to fight the chill and the bleakness so permeating is the atmosphere. Post war and post communism, the twin curses of Poland combine with a family weighed down with personal and political histories, crushing and oppressive to fill out this tale. Here we have a soon to be nun seeking out the stories where Catholics turned in or saved Jews, their neighbours and where citizens collaborated or resisted the Stalinists in their purges. The populace doesn’t yield but presents its face in the face of Wanda, unbending and hard bitten but tenacious and tough yet is there culpability somewhere under all that? Whichever, she will not tailor her behaviour to suit the prim Anna, a façade also and one that is challenged as the story develops. Without giving anything away, there is an eventual meeting of minds (fusing even), beautiful and a touch shocking.

Agata Trzebuchowska makes her debut as Anna; fresh faced and innocent she is captivating and frankly surprisingly accomplished and assured, a joy to watch. She is ably matched by the more experienced and riveting Agata Kulesza as Aunt Wanda.

This ‘kind of’ road film poses some tough questions about morality and all the contradictions inherent in them.  There is the inevitable Protestant fantasy that dictates that every nun will have a conflict with their vocation and their ‘bodily desires’ (good grief) but also much more realistic and important issues. Temper this with the cool and silky soundtrack featuring John Coltrane (much more successful than the grating, whiny soundtrack of ‘Birdman’), which feels it’s as grey in tone as the film’s palette, and you have a delicious, disturbing and masterly film

Ida deservedly won the Oscar for Best Foreign Language Film. As more films emerge from the former Eastern Bloc to tell us the ordinary stories as well as the epic, who knows what other masters, poetic and sensitive, smart and brave will join Pawlikowski as Directors and storytellers to follow. Let’s just look forward to it.

4 out of 5

This review is dedicated to ‘my’ Ida – my Aunt Ida May Margetts who passed away last year.

Review: Selma - Impressive and Inspiring

Selma

Starring: David Oyelowo, Carmen Ejogo, Tom Wilkinson

Directed by: Ava DuVernay
Screenplay: Paul Webb
128 minutes   Rated M

It is fifty years since Martin Luther King led a momentous march from Selma to Montgomery Alabama which made a significant impact on the American people and their leaders and was a pivotal, influential moment in the Civil Rights Movement and American history. In 1965 in Australia Charlie Perkins led many people on the Freedom Right to alert his fellow Australians to search for decency and dignity in the way our First Australians were treated.

It is fitting then that this anniversary brings us a film to recount such a historic moment, to remind those of us who were alive at the time, maybe fill in the blanks or give us (particularly in Australia in the days before the internet or twitter where we were given ‘news’ on international matters which may not have been anywhere near the full story) a few ‘I didn’t know that’ moments. Of course for those of us not around at the time it’s also a good history lesson of a story not known or fully understood.  Not to mention that events such as Ferguson today give us cause to reflect on whether many achievements end up being more surface than substance.

The movie opens with a shocking slow motion recreation of the 1963 Alabama church bombing that killed four African-American schoolgirls. The slow-mo was a bit twee but the scene certainly carried a punch. But the scene sets us up for the film to follow.

In Selma, the director Ava DuVernay tells the story of Dr Martin Luther King's battle to pass the 1965 Voting Rights Act. In the role of King we are treated to a stunning performance by David Oyelowo who convincingly captures that distinctive speech pattern but also his spirit, gravitas and moral authority. It is interesting to ponder of how young Dr King was and yet seemed to have such an ‘older’ air about him. This comes through in the film as some of the younger characters who seem a bit bemused by his (passive) tactics while others are in awe. It could probably have afforded to be a little more critical of the man, he had flaws afterall (his marriage infidelities hinted at briefly), but seriously this is an exceptional performance.

It’s interesting to see four of the leads (and a few smaller roles) are in the capable hands of Brits – David Oyelowo (King), Carmen Ejogo (Coretta King), Tom Wilkinson (LBJ) and Tim Roth (splendidly horrid George Wallace). Perfect actors all but I wonder how all those unemployed and equally competent American actors feel.

As Coretta, Carmen Ejogo gives a winning, sharp and moving performance. This stoic and faithful woman inspired many in the years following her husband’s death and Carmen’s performance gives us real insight into where that figure was being formed and why that was.

Fire and fury, passion and conviction (ish) underline Tom Wilkinson’s performance as President Johnson. There is much tut tutting about how LBJ is represented in the movie, insiders say there was no ‘arguing’ between King and LBJ – that they were more than restrained and civil with each other and that LBJ had a great respect for King’s arguments but not necessarily high regard for the man. King’s autobiography doesn’t indicate any confrontational tone but does acknowledge Dr King was unhappy that the President had ‘other priorities’ or significant barriers from the South and he started the Selma campaign despite Johnson’s cold feet. It looks to me that the words are fairly accurate in the dialogue with some dramatic effect added to give color to the film. Every film has to have a villain, even if it’s a de facto one and LBJ serves that purpose here so drama has to have a home. You might argue Wallace, Hoover and the Cops would have done the job just as well but there is more of a pivot having the villainy in the White House I think. And as the film progresses there is redemption and a change to a softer more ‘agreeable’ President as the pay off for his intransigence.

There is real verve and evident passion in this movie that carries the story and the drama along with the right degree of tension and apprehension (especially if you know the horrors coming). This could have been merely a didactic, preachy and button pressing film constantly asking ‘how could this happen’. Instead it is a tight story about the struggle, the moment when a leader is required to ‘step up’ and maybe ponder on where our passions for ideals have gone – would Selma happen today?

Whilst dramatic and sometimes mawkish (every marcher is hit not just with a truncheon but a bass beat on the soundtrack) Selma is also ultimately upbeat and heart lifting as a celebration of what was achieved and the civil rights movement. A documentary might have been more even handed, possibly even more subtle which might have meant less passion and intensity (even heart) but this movie suited me just fine.

The placing of that excellent part rap, part anthem song ‘Glory’ under the credits was a perfect end piece to a slightly flawed but mostly superb movie.

I look forward to a similar movie about Perkins and the Freedom Riders one day.

4 out of 5

Review: Big Eyes All That It Appears?

Big Eyes

Starring: Amy Adams, Christoph Waltz, Danny Huston, Jason Schwartzman, Terence Stamp, Madeleine Arthur
Director: Tim Burton
Written by Scott Alexander and Larry Karaszewski

106 minutes     Rated M

I think I like Tim Burton, there is something about his style that is compelling. I think. There’s ‘Sweeney Todd’, ‘Edward Scissorhands’, ‘Big Fish’ and ‘Ed Wood’, what’s not to like? Then I remember ‘Dark Shadows’ and ‘Charlie and the Chocolate Factory’ and I remember. I guess not every gothic angst piece of kitsch maketh a good movie nor be a crowd pleaser which I suspect motivates Tim more often than not.

Big Eyes returns Tim Burton the personal story maker, the brilliant director who made ‘Ed Wood’ and I’m glad of that. Ironically it’s the story of a producer of crowd pleasing Kitsch which might even have a shade or two of the Gothic about it. Witness the tale of Margaret Keane (Amy Adams), a San Francisco-based artist whose portraits of children with glistening, saucer-sized eyes were the in thing to own and turned out to be a gold mine for Margaret and her conman husband Walter (Christoph Waltz). She locked herself away painting for 16 hours a day browbeaten, maybe even in thrall to Walter who convinced her to churn out the popular waif paintings.  Not only that, BUT Walter took the credit for being the artist too. It’s a good story and an interesting one.

As with ‘Ed Wood’ Burton appears to posit the artistic success of the Keanes has more to do with the ‘peculiarity’ or notoriety of the art rather than the merit of it. Again of course the film itself might have to bear that petard for the oddness of the subject matter; the queerness of the story might deny it great commercial success. Maybe, too, in the current climate of a seeming increase in male disrespect and abuse towards women, a film about male dominance and female submissiveness albeit a half-century ago, it’s a hard sell.

Amy Adams as Margaret was a bit whiney at times but DID show us her reticent and compulsive natures. The whininess is an Adams motif though and something I would like to think will decrease as she gains more experience. She is a terrific actor but is still developing. A significant fault in the script about Margaret’s character is that we don’t know where the compulsiveness which drove her (compelled her?) to paint almost the same picture over and over for eight years. And was it simply a philosophy of ‘don’t mess with success’ that prevented her from standing up to Walter earlier to change the style from banal and unremittingly repetitive paintings of, mostly, women and children staring straight out with those huge black eyes?

Walter as played by Christoph Waltz was a charming and loathsome character. You despise the control he exudes and cringe at the winning smile, his exuberance is delightful while at the same time awful. BUT it is too often over the top and it’s in his scenes more often than not that the film slips, almost trips over itself. Also I did find essentially that Waltz was reminiscent of Woody Allen in the voice he chose, maybe that’s because Waltz still carries his Austrian accent off screen and Woody seemed to fit how he wanted his character to sound. I was not as comfortable with his acting as I was with most of the rest of the cast.

There are a couple of fine ‘cameo’ moments too. Jason Schwartzman is compelling and convincing as the doubting gallery owner while Terrance Stamp does a fine turn as the critic John Canaday who might have been a rad harsh when he suggested "It's synthetic hack work,” but onto something when he also called the works, “An infinity of kitsch.”  Danny Huston as columnist Dick Nolan does a fine turn when he appears on screen but the voiceover by Nolan is a bit naff and unnecessary.

San Francisco just before everyone was wearing ‘flowers in their hair’ looked fantastic and totally convincing thanks to the splendid photography of Bruno Delbonnel.

This is a film that mostly satisfies even though it is wholly disturbing, much like those paintings and much like the odd, quirky, manipulative and destructive relationship at the centre of the story.

I think this is the sort of film Burton does well but I suspect he’ll still make the oddball, sometimes creepy but sometimes clever stuff again. Some will be great and some will be ho hum but the main thing is that he is prepared to ‘have a go’.

I think.

3 ½ out of 4