Review: Bleeding Love

Year: 2023

Director: Emma Westenberg

Screenplay: Ruby Caster, Clara McGregor and Vera Bulder

Starring: Clara McGregor, Ewan McGregor

Synopsis is here

 

Bleeding Love opens with something that’s become a familiar pattern in today’s fractured media landscape. Like many independent features of its kind, the film begins with a multitude of different film production idents. Most of them are unheard of. Such openings have become a clear example of how difficult it is to get certain movies off the ground. It certainly makes this production feel more determined.

Ironically, the dogged nature of the barrage of production labels feels correct for Bleeding Love. It is a film about drug addiction and estranged family ties. To gain a solid footing on such themes in real life tenacity is often a key component. For lead actress Clara McGregor, who also has producer, story and singer credits on the film, it’s clear that she's dying to say something in this film. And is looking for as many ways to express that.

It possibly helps that having a famous father helps. Clara co-stars alongside her dad Ewan in this good-natured and well-intentioned tale of a father who is covertly taking his daughter to rehab hours after she’s overdosed. Their fractious relationship gets quickly established in the film's opening scene where Clara’s daughter character asks her dad to pull over on the roadside so she can relive herself. It’s an excuse to flee as the girl sprints off with her father struggling to keep the pace. It’s a funny moment. Bleeding Love effectively sets up the relationship between the couple and the tone finds its footing quickly.

There’s some intriguing stuff to chew on here. Ewan McGregor is well known for his breakthrough role as Scottish heroin addict Renton in the 90s’ phenomenon Trainspotting (1996). There is a dry sense of humour in seeing McGregor come full circle. His features are now only slightly gone to seed. He finds himself in the role of a father who feels he knows better. In Bleeding Love, his role as dad comes with a keen knowledge of where substance abuse can take you. In this story, it soon becomes apparent that this parental figure has had his share of demons but is trying his best to steer that around. This road trip with his daughter becomes a chance for him to bury some of his skeletons while keeping his daughter from creating her own.

Clara McGregor as the unnamed daughter has some entertaining moments throughout the film. Her substance-addicted character is not too overzealous. However, she is perhaps too fresh-faced and striking to seem as in trouble as the film suggests. The chemistry between father and daughter is solid enough. They bounce off each other as one would expect from real-life family members.

But while both McGregors are appealing to watch, the film never gains the emotional tug that would alleviate it above anything seen before. Director Emma Westenberg is confident in terms of form. Her use of wide-angle lenses to portray flashback scenes and drug use is well utilised, and the pop aesthetic and moments of humour are enjoyable. It’s also welcoming that many women occupy roles behind the camera to produce a film that appears different from what could have been expected.  But despite Bleeding Love’s focus on its father-daughter relationship and small flights of fancy, the film is often too safe to linger in the mind for very long.  

Bleeding Love is available on Digital Platforms from 22nd July 2024

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Review: Eileen

Year: 2023

Director: William Oldroyd 

Screenplay: Luke Goebel, Ottessa Moshfegh

Starring: Thomasin McKenzie, Anne Hathaway

Synopsis is here:

Much to my annoyance, Eileen slipped out on to streaming release with little fanfare. I have been interested in watching the film since the trailer dropped last year (at the time of writing). Due to current circumstances, catching it at the cinema would be difficult, so I had hoped that there would be enough weight behind the film to ensure that I, the lapsed film writer, would be a little more alert to its home video release. Unfortunately, this was not the case. In a world of algorithms and data mining, my joyless doom scrolling still had not got the tech authorities to drill down and fully learn my film-loving tastes. Despite constant warnings about how big tech knows all about the pornography that you may or may not watch. However unless you spend a week and a day hunched over your phone feeding it all your interests, all your media apps still feel hapless in supplying you with decent new recommendations for normal movies. While I’m a tad factious here, the nagging feeling that decent film distribution has been almost disintegrated by fractured markets and tech disruption still scratches my forever itching shoulder. It still feels like finding a film like Eileen can be a somewhat needless struggle at times.

That said, if people were talking about Eileen, I may have been playing too much EA FC 24 to have noticed. There seemed to be a distinct quietness about the film despite the clout of the people making the film. Based on the 2015 novel by acclaimed writer Ottessa Moshfegh, Eileen the film is directed by William Oldroyd (Lady Macbeth) with rising star Thomasin McKenzie as the titular character, and Anne Hathaway is the film’s enigmatic femme fatale, Rebecca. Set in 60’s Massachusetts, the film tells the tale of the sheltered Eileen. Her work life is a mundane job at a juvenile correctional facility. While she is dominated by her alcoholic ex-cop dad at home. Things take a turn when Rebecca becomes the facility’s new psychologist. Eileen is quickly overcome with infatuation due to Rebecca’s intelligence and glamour. The relationship begins to sour when an invite is offered, a favour is asked, and Eileen’s life is turned upside down over the Christmas holidays.

It's not surprising that director William Oldroyd is connected to this material. His debut feature Lady Macbeth (2016) harbours similar themes, in which the repression of a young woman leads to chaotic and tragic circumstances. There’s a clear connection with writer Moshfegh, who also co-writes the screenplay of her debut novel. Her work has been noted for its misanthropic and complicated anti-heroines, and this is where Eileen thrives. Particularly in the film’s first half, while the film quietly puts its pieces into play. Despite being a period piece, the film feels very in tune with the current state of modern female literature that Moshfegh operates in. The film works best when it encapsulates how smothered women can be by patriarchal societal norms. The film’s small-town setting helps make this feel particularly potent. From the onset, it’s obvious that the sexually ambivalent Eileen doesn’t fit in the narrow margins of this one-bar Massachusetts town. Once Rebecca’s well-educated, big-town presence enters the fray, the changing attitudes of the 60s appear to come with her. 

Eileen starts to run into problems once the film’s thriller elements come into play. A major incident occurs, but it feels like such a curveball that only the people truly invested in the main relationship may maintain a connection with the narrative. Suddenly it feels like the film’s final third needed extra minutes from the earlier sections of the movie. Elieen’s sideswipe of a third act feels awkwardly abrupt in a way that Moshfegh’s novel probably isn’t. In addition to this, there is a crucial change at the film's climax that feels disingenuous. Although credit must be given to the filmmakers for giving us a female relationship in which both characters are difficult to truly like. 

The biggest takeaway from the film is the two magnetic performances from the film's leads.  Thomasin McKenzie’s Eileen is perfectly mousey yet harbours an unknowable quantity about her which keeps her at arm’s length. In the end, you realise it’s for a good reason. Anne Hathaway excels as Rebecca. A woman whose confidence makes her equally as hard to pin down as Eileen. It’s films like Eileen which help highlight just how good certain actors can be. Hathaway doesn’t overact or chew scenery. She merely holds the audience’s gaze with an intense charm. She manages to be attractive and sexy, with no need to be explicit or obvious. The most arresting moment of her performance is when we realise that the confidence Rebecca previously had suddenly been misplaced, and she is just as fearful as Eileen is. 

Oldroyd wraps these two performances up in an atmospheric film that loses its way before the final credits. While aiming for a tonal shift that feels very difficult to ring true, Eileen still establishes itself as a film which creeps around the interiors of its complicated women well enough to stay interesting. That said, while I'm not completely sold on everything that Eileen was delivering, that's still no justification for streaming services harvesting my data poorly and almost hiding the film's release from me. I feel you have to do better, guys.

Article: The Desire and the Danger - A First Watch of Looking for Mr Goodbar

When I decided to write this, the film people of the internet had rolled into day three of complaining about Sight and Sound’s 100 Greatest Movie List. Instead of participating, I decided to get blown away by Diane Keaton in Looking for Mr Goodbar. A film that’s still M.I.A in terms of physical release. Not due to the subject matter, which is tough, but due to music distribution rights. The soundtrack features disco hits from the likes of Donna Summer and Thelma Houston. The upbeat tracks date the film historically, while the lyrics also foreshadow its troubling ending. Songs like Don’t Leave Me This Way flip from being well-known floor fillers into something deeply chilling. Looking for Mr Goodbar is not an easy watch. Not in the slightest. Yet the themes raised still hold a strong relevance, while the provocative nature of the film makes it difficult to forget.

Based on a bestselling book of the same name, Goodbar is a fictional account of a real-life tragedy of Roseann Quinn, A well-liked teacher who had led a double life in her spare time. Richard Brook's matter-of-fact feature is unlike modern true-crime entries. With so many current examples enjoying placing fetishist attention placed on the murderers of senseless violence, however, one could wonder if the film's availability on streaming has been able to grab the attention of true crime junkies who know of the original case but are new to the film.

In Looking for Mr Goodbar, Diane Keaton plays Thresa, a trainee teacher whose home life is suffocating by her domineering polish-catholic parents. She studies to be a teacher while her hot mess of a sister has escaped the family home and has delved into the dual pleasures of drugs and polygamy. Theresa, at first, finds herself sexually involved with her college professor. However, the relationship is cut short before her graduation. Thresa soon obtains a job as a teacher for deaf children and proves herself to be a thoughtful and nurturing guide for her students. Her work life is a marked difference from her spare time, however, as she finds herself frequenting dive bars, engaging in one-night stands and experimenting with drugs. She soon finds herself at the hands of manipulating and self-centred men. Soon, her nightlife slowly seeps into her day job. A feeling of risk begins to stem from her precarious behaviour. Tragedy strikes when Teresa while reconsidering her personal life, has a chance encounter that changes her fate for the worse.

Looking for Mr Goodbar has no surprising plot. Theresa's story may have viewers entering the film with an understanding of the tragic crime and controversial source novel. Despite this knowledge, Looking for Mr Goodbar remains a startling picture. Even though the film is over 40 years old, the film still holds a potent relevancy as the harrowing narrative will feel relatable to many women. Although the story sets itself against the backdrop of the women's revolution of the 70s, there's a feeling the modern world has moved as much as expected. While parts of the urban scene may have faded, the misogyny found within Goodbar feels no different from today. The opening photo montage, littered with glassy-eyed men ogling young women in bars, only needs an outfit change and a gloss of paint to feel pertinent to where we are now. Something about the aged, unchanging grimness and the sense of foreboding helps Looking for Mr Goodbar remain shocking.

Goodbar’s lack of substantial physical release gives the film an added mystique. Its subject matter and lack of typical availability only compound its notoriety. Critics who have sought the movie out remain just as divisive as the likes of Vincent Canby were back in the 70s. Reviews have been quick to claim the film muddles its execution. Claire Davidson is cold towards the film. In a piece focusing on the film's soundtrack for Little White Lies, she dismisses Goodbar as redundant. Despite praising the film, Jim Owen of We Are Cult questions the struggle for Goodbar to define itself. The film's release in 1977 has the powerful lead performance by Diane Keaton overshadowed by her more affectionate display in Annie Hall. It is a curious displacement, when in contrast to the sexual allegations that dogged Hall's director Woody Allen in his later years. A strange, tangential connection of abuse lies between the two films. Along with the limited availability of the film and the critical discourse, this mixture of elements almost keeps the tenacious display of Keaton overlooked.

One thing that does not get overlooked in Looking for Mr Goodbar is the stacked before-they-were-famous cast. The film is bursting with burgeoning talent from all corners. As previously mentioned, Diane Keaton is completely arresting as Theresa. She flitters easily between sweet and sensual in a display that is intelligent, sexual, and yet without judgment throughout the narrative. Meanwhile, the supporting cast is a heady brew of then up-and-coming performers. Richard Gere appears as the finger-drumming narcissist Tony. While his appearances are brief, he hums with dangerous sexual energy when on screen. Gere delivers a similar vibrancy in American Gigolo (1980) and Breathless (1983). And it's upsetting that a generation of filmgoers may only know him as the corporate silver fox who chased Julia Roberts around in Pretty Woman (1990), if at all. William Atherton, known more for his smug, cinema bastard roles in Ghostbusters (1984) and Die Hard (1988), finds realms of darkness as James, a Welfare Caseworker. A hapless Irish American man who makes nice with Theresa's Polish Catholic parents but soon becomes unhinged as his traditional desires infringe on her sexual freedom. LeVar Burton shows up as the tough older brother of one of the pupils Theresa teaches. His stoic, no-nonsense demeanour is light years from his role as Geordi in Star Trek. Tom Berenger appears late on as the homophobic final partner of Theresa. He is equally as unbalanced as those who came before him while still presenting a different sexual danger to Richard Gere’s Tony. 

An element of the film’s potency is that despite its cast of soon-to-be well-knowns when it stays focused on Theresa rather than the many men, the film shines. Many modern true crime stories have keenly leaned towards the suspects and killers. With fans posting online their unwholesome desires for these unstable criminals. The likes of Dahmer - Monster: The Jeffery Dahmer Story have had its admirers frame Evan Peter’s portrayal of the serial killer as a pin-up. A persuasive takeaway from Goodbar is that it maintains the dubious men within the narrative as pathetic while trying to maintain an amount of sympathy for Theresa. She may enjoy an element of manufactured risk in her exploits, but her liberation and sexual freedom shouldn't cost her life.

It is easy to find parts of Goodbar reductive. At times, the film stumbles on the central theme that such a woman with her sexual freedom should not have her wings clipped. Richard Brook's stagey direction of the material sometimes struggles to do enough to complicate the matter for the better. A viewing of the film could have it read as a moralist tract, with the film arriving just before the even more conservative sex = death slashers of the 80s. A meandering side plot involving Theresa's sister Katherine begins to drift halfway through the movie. At first, she is more sexually adventurous, yet soon Katherine looks towards Theresa as an emotional anchor and is unaware of her sister's antics. By the time we enter the final third, Katherine’s exploits have led to abortions and quickie divorces. She’s suddenly moving towards societal norms, an obvious contrast to Theresa, who only has second thoughts about her promiscuity when tragically too late.

However, something about Looking for Mr Goodbar remains compelling. There is something so illuminating about Keaton’s performance that ensures the film, while overlong, isn’t lazy in what it’s trying to say.

One can throw criticism at the frayed edges of the film, yet this only pinpoints the great tragedy that hangs in the narrative. Looking for Mr Goodbar manages to highlight a multitude of struggles from intergenerational, racial and gender standpoints. The film sets up various conflicts in which characters within them will never gain the chance to move on or gain strength due to a fateful act which ends things. The film doesn’t pin down everything easily. Begging the question: If Goodbar had tightened its loose ends, could it be as compelling? Possibly not.

True Crime fiction often asks how we can load ourselves with the knowledge to calm our anxieties while protecting ourselves so that the same fate of victims is not shared. Looking for Mr Goodbar is startling because slight stumbles aside, there is no easy, comforting answer to Theresa's journey.  She battles her stifling family unit against a backdrop of women's liberation, defining her independence by her standards. There is a sense that Theresa would struggle to find this liberty through traditional societal norms. Theresa does not look for a man who fits the requirements of her father, but her sexual exploration, while enjoyable at times, does not fulfil her either. If she were to follow her sister down the well-trodden path, this also betray her newfound freedom. A streak of self-destruction lies in Theresa's behaviour, but her decisions are not what set about her demise. It is the tragic swinging pendulum of fate. Theresa's fierce independence makes her a character to root for. It also makes her unknowable. And the chilling final moments, utilising a strobe effect, are disorientating. Leaving us in the knowledge that despite being a rock for her sister, championing the young, disadvantaged inner-city children she teaches, or her fight for her sexual freedom, we will never know what she was striving for and that her ending is even more wrongfully unjust.

Looking for Mr Goodbar’s poignancy still hits hard because society doesn’t feel like it’s moved on from its talking points, despite Looking for Mr Goodbar approaching 45 years old. The disco-glazed city may not appear as dangerous as they do in this film. The dive bars that populate Goodbar would be hard to find now. Yet the fragile men who inhabit the dark corners still move among us. The type of man who can only exhibit control over independent, young women in aggressive, manipulative, or cowardly ways. Be it a gutless teacher who carries on an affair to feed his desires, a condescending potential suitor with a dated, traditional vision of relationships, or even a homophobic murderer who takes misinterpretation as a mocking dig at his own sexually. You can find these characters easily in movies today. While certain films have attempted to capture the anger and sadness within Looking for Mr Goodbar, they don’t hold a similar impact. The non-judgemental viewpoint sometimes exhibited by the lead character almost feels alien in the realm of girlboss representation that exists now. Whether Looking for Mr Goodbar will ever gain a solid physical re-issue in the UK or America, now that streaming dominates, remains to be seen. But while it finds itself on streaming channels with no sign of disappearing currently, that alone sends the message that it deserves to be discovered by a new audience and evaluated.

Looking for Mr Goodbar is currently on Paramount Plus and Amazon Prime at the time of writing.

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Article: Refrigerator Prize

By Leslie Byron Pitt

The best thing that Charlie’s Angels (2000) did for me was introducing me to Sam Rockwell. I had seen him in films before McG’s sugary gloss fest for sure. He was fun in Galaxy Quest (1999), intense in The Green Mile (1999) and I’m sure he knocked it out of the park as “Head Thug” in the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles movie (1990). I don’t remember. I’ve only seen that film once over 20 years ago. I was more of a Secret of the Ooze guy. I digress. It was Rockwell’s performance as Tech Nerd/Draw Barrymore’s love interest Eric Knox that grabbed my attention.  Moreover, it was his shimmying and shuffling to Pharaoh Monche’s Simon Says after becoming a turncoat to the angels and dear old Drew which piqued my interest. It was suave villainy that was not only enjoyable for the outlandish movie it appeared in. It deserved to be in a better movie. The kind of movie moment which convinces an impressionable young mind to track this actor and see whatever film they might be in next.

The next notable performance for Rockwell was Welcome to Collingwood (2002) directed by Marvel stalwarts The Russo Brothers. A film which had desires to be Coen-like and ended up being mildly enjoyable yet wholly forgettable. Collingwood teamed Rockwell up with George Clooney who soon embarked on his directorial career with Confessions of a Dangerous Mind, released in the same year. I was fortunate enough to catch both movies at the UCI cinema where I worked. At the time, the cinema had a weekly slot named “The Director’s Chair” in which films, both old and new, which were worlds apart from things like Charlie’s Angels, were allowed one showing for supposedly more discerning cineastes. Collingwood faded from my mind quicker than the running time of its end credits. Confessions of a Dangerous Mind, however, bored me. Still perhaps Clooney’s most interesting directorial feature, the film solidified Rockwell as a preferred performer of mine. His freewheeling performance is still a notable turn in my cinema-going. The film itself I still consider one of my favourites.

The story of Confessions of Dangerous Mind is the semi-autobiographical, fully bat-crap crazy memoir of one Chuck Barris (Rockwell). Known to American audiences as the creator of The Dating Game (U.K folk, think Blind Date) and The Gong Show. Barris was a multi-faceted performer and producer who did everything from hosting the shows he produced to writing hit pop songs. What his cult autobiography reveals however is that he also led a double life as a C.I.A operative. Utilising his hit T.V show as cover, he moonlighted as a hitman for his country. So, he says.

David O Russell allegedly turned down the chance to direct Confessions saying that the film was “just not about anything but a guy who liked to fuck girls and say that he shot people in the head." It’s slightly amusing that Clooney, who had an altercation with O Russell on the set of Three Kings (1999) due to his treatment of cast and crew, clearly saw something within the story and picked it up as his debut feature. Clooney doesn’t do anything too radical in terms of insight. At the base level, Barris is a man who is struggling with his feelings of inferiority. However, Confessions of a Dangerous mind still stands out as Clooney's most playful movie since he moved into directing. It’s hard not to sense a feeling of mimicry when watching Confessions. There’s Coen-lite energy to things. Something that makes sense given Clooney’s then-recent collaborations. Yet Clooney’s indulgent decision to overload the movie with a flurry of visual flourishes is not just a sign of the first-time director revelling in the creative sandbox. Even now it still feels like the last time Clooney let loose behind the camera.

Confessions is less engaged with its directors’ political leanings, yet much like Clooney’s sophomore effort Good Night and Good Luck (2005), the film delves into a period when television rubbed up against communist ideals. Good Night and Good Luck stoically focuses on McCarthyism and press freedom.  Confessions toys with the idea that gains could be made in the cold war via the host of The Dating Game shooting agents in the face while acting as a chaperone for his unwitting contestants.  Both films utilise American TV as an instrument to either reflect or neglect the fear and paranoia the American people had with communism. Albeit Confessions stays broadly focused on Barris’ sexual and mental fragility, with the Cold War as a side dish

The Barris story's madness and what could be Clooney’s naivety behind the camera instead of in front of it allow the Ocean’s 11 star to deliver a film that is off the chain with visual “moments”. A Delightfully assured tracking shot has Barris touring the halls of NBC only to be the host of the same tour an instant later. Meanwhile briskly cold silhouettes situate the frosty European countries that the TV presenter must navigate to find his targets. When time allows Clooney slots, Rockwell, in front of mirrors to implicate the duplicity. That’s not when he’s having telephone calls meld into the same location or having C.I.A agents bleed artfully into swimming pools while sitting on diving boards.  A late sequence has Barris having a mental breakdown in front of an imagined slaughtered audience. A terrifying vision of a CIA hitman losing the plot? Or are we watching a deeply troubled producer seeing his brain-dead shows kill off the smarts of the audience? This is contrasted with an earlier scene in which a desperate Barris sits in a full auditorium glumly watching a movie while everyone around him is kissing. When Barris meets the free-spirited love interest Penny (An enjoyable Drew Barrymore), they’re seen necking in the theatre while everyone watches the movie intently. Seems that ol' Chuck never seems to fit in with the crowd. So why not envision them dead? It’s a moment which feels strangely apt for such a cracked mind. All this is delivered with a brightly lit retro colour palette and a wink to his usual collaborators. Blink and you’ll miss some friends of Clooney’s looking flummoxed on the dating game.

It's no surprise that it can all feel a bit much for some. Maybe a feeling of Clooney enjoying himself a copious amount. The film’s screenplay was written by Charlie Kauffman, the misanthropic creator of such gems as Synecdoche, New York (2008), and I’m Thinking of Ending Things (2020). Two incredibly cynical mind benders. Kauffman has stated his frustration with the finished film, with talk of a drug addiction subplot excised from the final film. Confessions is all a bit too sprightly for the dark trappings that inhabit most of Kaufman’s work. The screenwriter highlighted that this was more of a script on order, which had lounged in development hell for years than anything else. Jumping from director to director before finally landing on Clooney’s lap. As accomplished as Kaufman’s creations usually are, this is far from his more sardonic imaginings. And considering the grimness which inhabited I’m Thinking of Ending Things, that’s perhaps for the best.

Weirdly enough, Confessions still has enough Kaufman DNA inhabiting it to remind you of the scribe. This is a film about a self-loathing white male talent, wracked with self-doubt despite his success. This of course runs through the likes of Adaptation (2002) and Synecdoche, New York (2008). Although what’s perhaps lacking in this over the likes of films such as Being John Malkovich (1999), Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (2004), and Anomalisa (2015) is the element of communication breakdown between the film’s lead and everyone around them. If anything, Chuck Barris is a superb communicator. With the likes of Dick Clark leading the famous parade of known talking heads informing us of Chuck’s brilliance. Barris perhaps has too keen an ear on what the people want. His shows are not only still being observed in similar ways today, but also seem to be the type of “low culture trash” that can draw in huge crowds. The Gong Show feels no different from the most popular element of X-Factor. Praying on normal people who seek attention, despite maybe not having the inherent media talent for true success.

“…To mock some poor, lonely people who just crave a little attention in their lives. To destroy them. So everybody’s not brilliantly talented. They’re still people. They deserve respect and compassion. I mean, who the hell are you? What the fuck have you ever done that elevates you above the pathetic masses? Oh, I forgot, you created “The Dating Game”. Wow, right up there with the Sistine Chapel.”  - Pretty Woman

This quote is perhaps the most stinging moment of the film. And perhaps one of the most crucial. A withering blow to the strutting male ego. A beautiful, unknown woman dissecting Barris for what he is. Suddenly no matter how often we frequent Barris’ more dangerous alternative life, this woman’s burning critique feels seared onto Barris like a branded cow.  This is a man who wished he was more than what he became. Even when at the point of success, he is haunted by what could be considered imposter syndrome. George Clooney is interested in the moment where media & politics collide. But that truly comes later. In Confessions, this is the filmmaker going down a road well-travelled. That of a mad male talent and his demons. Is Barris telling the truth? The answer perhaps lies in how much you feel about appealing to the lowest common denominator and when you’re called out on it.  The film ends with perhaps one of my favourite quotes as the actual Barris is sat down, much like the docu-style talking heads from earlier. The lighting is harsh and bright. Blasting out any wrinkle or detail. The final moments are as earnest as they are depressing. Barris’ last quote is as follows:

"I came up with a new game-show idea recently. It's called The Old Game. You got three old guys with loaded guns onstage. They look back at their lives, see who they were, what they accomplished, how close they came to realizing their dreams. The winner is the one who doesn't blow his brains out. He gets a refrigerator."

I think it tells us all we need to know.

Confessions of a Dangerous Mind is on various streaming platforms. I dug out an old DVD.

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Review: Carol

Year: 2015

Director Todd Haynes

Screenplay: Phyllis Nagy

Starring: Cate Blanchett, Rooney Mara, Kyle Chandler 

Synopsis is here:

After watching Carol, I gave myself a day or two to let the film linger.  It’s a film that likes to settle within the recesses of the mind. Its story is deceptively simple at the surface, yet the emotional connections run deep throughout. Much has already been said about the film main relationship between the elegant Carol (Cate Blanchett at her most graceful) and Therese (Rooney Mara captures doe eyed innocence in a bottle). However, director Todd Haynes’ command of the plot and its characters is so robust that I had felt involved with even the secondary characters. There’s a texture in the film that runs deeper than the luxurious fashions on display. 

While conversing with a friend, she mentioned that her mother found such a connection to be lacking. I wonder if this is due to Carol’s sexual orientation. I don’t say this as a negative. Far from it. The beauty of Carol with its subtle glances and sly smiles is just how often it pushes its heterosexual characters to the side. This must be by design. To show that while many within the film may not understand the connections taking place, they are still not things to be judged. Carol isn’t a queer text about gay rights or equality per say, but it does seem to suggest that roses growing out of the concrete needn’t be plucked. A less pretentious (and clearer) interpretation would be to say that this is a struggle for these two individuals rather than a universal one.  

Haynes' depiction of this blossoming relationship and their yearning is dutiful and precise. Once the roots are planted, the branches get tangled with everyone. The ever dependable Kyle Chandler’s heart bleeds as Harge; the heterosexual husband who struggles to grasp this new reality through anger and his own needs. A brief moments from old flame Abby (a wonderfully understated Sarah Paulson) hints not only at understanding, but heartache. Smaller supporting roles also excel. Never sounding like soundboards of a previous era, or knowing totems of this one. Haynes has entertained with this era before for his beautiful melodrama pastiche Far from Heaven (2002), but this seems far from the more broadly drawn and colourful characters from his previous venture. For me, Carol often reminded me of the isolated characters who feature in the painting by Edward Hopper. It’s doubtful that Hopper is an influence, yet Haynes’ direction and blocking of characters along with cinematographer Edward Lachman’s framing, makes nearly every person we meet feel like Hopper’s figures. Almost consumed by the industrial world around them.

It’s no surprise that when the films action shifts from city to country, the characters seem to feel less suffocated by their surroundings and in turn, their societal trappings. Carol’s beauty lies in its small subtleties. Trying on new fragrances. A quiet drive with someone you admire. The small token gesture of a gift, or an admiration of talent. These moments can seem so typical of a romantic drama. However, the softness and slightly alien aspect of an all-female romance within such a bygone era and the shifts of tensions within the relationship dynamics makes Carol stand apart from more universal films of a similar nature. Looking back at the film’s final outcome, the final moments are both heartening and fretful. There’s elements of rejection we ignore due to what we observe on the screen. Even at that moment the film’s closure lays a shade of ambiguity that a more universal romance could perhaps ignore for surface pleasures. I found that the excellence of Carol lies in its ability to sow such seeds. It’s only after leaving the screen did the film’s deeper resonances strike me. For that I am thankful. 

Review: Sicario

Year: 2015

Director: Denis Villeneuve

Screenplay: Taylor Sheridan

Starring: Emily Blunt, Josh Brolin, Benicio Del Toro

Synopsis is here:

Higgins: “No. Absolutely not. We have games. That's all. We play games. What if? How many men? What would it take? Is there a cheaper way to destabilize a regime? That's what we're paid to do.”

-          Three Days of Condor (1975)

Ice Cube: “You get AK’s from Russia and Cocaine from Columbia.”

Eazy E: “And ain’t none of us got a passport! So you might wanna check the source…”

-          Straight Outta Compton (2015)

Sicario plays a behind the scenes of the source Eazy E mentions, by the rules similar to what Higgins implies. Beginning with a tense and explosive siege, the grim revelation that’s found becomes an ominous analogy. Although less Skeleton’s in the closest, more corpses in the plaster wall.

Underground Rapper Immortal Technique could have conceived an album based on the narrative curveballs that Denis Villeneuve’s crime drama spins towards its viewer. It’s a film which not only firmly cements Villeneuve’s recurring theme of personal, insular prisons, but once again highlights that such prisons tickle down from the larger containment. In Villeneuve’s twisted doppelganger humdinger; Enemy (2013), this involved the sticky webbed influence of Spiders. Here in Sicario, we’re asked to pry apart the tenacious strands of the drug trade, which have been weaved between North and South America. 

This tightly wound production falls into a similar camp as A Most Violent Year (2014). The moral structures that our lead character; Kate (A passive, but seething Emily Blunt) begin to deteriorate and crumble to show how much of a fallacy the lines of the law really are.  No one is to be trusted and the long arm of the law is cracked and fractured in several places. We keenly observe this in the opening shots, were swat teams operate a high risk manoeuvres while neighbours take dogs on their afternoon walks. In the lead up to one of Sicario’s more tense sequences, mutilated bodies hang freely under intersection freeways, while locals nonchalantly play squash in the next street. Good? Bad? In the world of Sicario, it just is.

Much is owed to Roger Deakins cinematography. His control of light and shadow is effortless, as is his ability to clarify the imagery to augment the message. Sicario holds wide shots which isolate Blunt’s Kate both outside and inside government structures which she suddenly feels alien to. The Star Spangled Banner gloatingly hovers over or behind her while she argues her case. So much for what she considers as the American way. By the time we get to the third act, which involves locating border tunnels, we’re viewing images in inferred camera Inverting colour into blurred monochrome shades of gray. We are literally in the dark with little awareness of who the villains are, even though the team have gone in as friends.

It’s easy to argue that Sicario comes at a time where the competition doesn’t feel as stiff as previous eras. It’s not a typical period piece or biopic that fares so well during the Oscars. But that doesn’t matter in the slightest. Sicario not only throbs and pulses like it’s near elemental soundtrack. Its brutally precise execution of its themes, sit in the pit of the stomach like a block of ice. Denis Villeneuve confronts the subject with the same dynamic fortitude that makes Sicario stand tall with similar features of its ilk. For this blogger, this is one of the year’s best. 

Review: Macbeth

Year: 2015
Director: Justin Kurzel
Screenplay: Todd Louiso, Jacob Koskoff, Michael Lesslie
Starring: Michael Fassbender, Marion Cotillard, Paddy Considine, Sean Harris, Jack Reynor, Elizabeth Debicki, David Thewlis

Synopsis is here:

Note: Spoilers are featured, but I’d be slightly worried if you don’t know the story.

Despite his status as the world’s greatest playwright, for many, the name William Shakespeare only provides recollections of dog eared worn school books. Possibly with drab, seemingly never ending lessons. Will is the most important English writer, but how he’s taught can often be a dour experience.

Enter Snowtown director Justin Kurzel’s Macbeth, which could possibly revive those half-forgotten memories of lost afternoons buried in reference books. This adaptation isn’t by no way horrible to look at. Its lavish cinematography is light years ahead of the Shakespeare animated tales that this blogger had to watch. Despite this, through the gloomy mist and ground muddied by split blood and sweat, Kurzel’s Macbeth is a peculiarly subdued adaptation.

The beauty of cinematic adaptation, fanboys be damned, is what another pair of hands can do to mold the clay. Here Kurzel works with what he’s known for: getting down with the dirt. Much like Snowtown, you can feel the grit under the nails of everyone involved. The secondary actors, who speak with genuine Scottish accents are distracting at times, but only due to the nature of how often Shakespeare is displayed to us. Such naturalistic tones along with the simple set design and Barry Lyndon style low lighting, keeps the atmosphere of the piece as rough as it can be.

In terms of aesthetic This is a rugged and raw Macbeth, which can clearly be seen from the cast that’s been picked. The likes of Paddy Considine and Sean Harris are actors that can convey the kind coarseness that Kurzel is clearly aiming for. The main players of Michael Fassbender and the wide eyed Marion Cotillard are also game. Capturing the desperation and guilt of the Macbeth couple as they grasp for power and disintegrate because of it. Fassbender seemed to have been made for such a role. After the execution of his gutless deed, we witness a dogged Macbeth lie next to the murdered King in a moment of anxiety and foreboding. It’s a slight moment, but one that exposes the inverted vulnerability that Fassbender could do in his sleep.

Through the sweat and dirt, however, there’s a lack of urgency through most of the piece. There’s much to try and take from Macbeth. From its operatic opening sequences to slow motion battle sections. The film’s score is one that howls and squeals like the Highland winds. Add to this the dramatic performances and it’s seems to be a relatively solid adaptation.

Despite this, there doesn’t seem to be anything to full grip on to. This Macbeth is a subdued and slippery beast. It almost feels as it is covered in the same claret that coats Macbeth’s treacherous hands. It gives us little else than a simple telling of the tale.

This is where the beauty of adaptation comes in. You can give us something else. This Macbeth is released at a time where many feel our leaders feel more disingenuous than ever before. Meanwhile, our media douse us with a type of paranoia that previous dictators would happily pay for. Yet, Kurzel and the three screenwriters only really muddy the aesthetic. This is an adaptation that may not wish to be tainted with anything that may date it within the era it was made. However, apart from hushed renditions of some of the bard’s most recognised soliloquys and Macbeth’s madness being observed as a type of PTSD, we’re given little complexity or definition.

The beauty of Shakespeare isn't just in the words (although Fassbender and Cotillard have an eloquent command of the dialogue) but in what else you can bring to the adaptation. The source is strong and always will be, but in the end Macbeth feels as airy and tenuous as the three witches who haunt Macbeth’s dreams and battlefields.

DVD Review: The Duke of Burgundy

Year: 2014 (DVD Release Date: 2015)

Director: Peter Strickland

Screenplay: Peter Strickland

Starring: Sidse Babett Knudsen, Chiara D'Anna

It’s funny to see The Duke of Burgundy released now as the budding blossoms of Spring begin to bloom. The film, set over the brisker seasons, is saturated in rich autumnal tones, appears to use the chilled temperatures to hide the warmth the film creates. With the likes of Fifty Shades of Grey (opened during the chilly month of February) using a damp, overcast Vancouver, Washington as its setting, both films appear to slyly hint that while there may be no heat outside, things are definitely heated in the respective bedrooms of each films couples.

This is a slightly tawdry way to describe both films. Yet whereas Fifty Shades would wear such a tag as badge of honour, stifling giggles as it describes sexual relationships. The Duke of Burgundy, while described as “preposterous” by its own director, Peter Strickland, understands the nature of its sexual games at a far more substantial level. Fifty Shades may have captured the box office, using its sex as titillation. It is The Duke of Burgundy, which ensnares the imagination. The film's sexual sequences not only understand that less is more. The film as a whole, understands its themes far more than E. L James’ material. Both highlight dominance and submission as the main erotic practices of one particular partner. Only The Duke of Burgundy truly grasps just how tough the rigors are if trust and understanding are not involved.

That may not be what Fifty Shades was aiming for, but I’m not surprised that people have come towards The Duke of Burgundy with more favour. With no authoritarians to get in the way of the film's creation, director Peter Strickland (Berberian Sound Studio) is free to roam within the sensual landscape of his central characters and their eroticism.  

The film; a loving homage to the soft-core euro erotica of the 60’s and 70’s details the relationship and rituals of Cynthia (Chiara D'Anna) and Evelyn (Chiara D'Anna). The couple are entomology students whose love for butterflies and insects is only bettered by their affection for each other. Each day they embark on a D/s routine that slowly erodes the couple relationship as one partner’s sexual mores become more obsessive.

Amusingly, the bare bones of the film aren’t too dissimilar from Fifty Shades. However Strickland’s skillful direction, makes exemplary use of form. Consider the fact that despite being a homage to soft-core, there’s no nudity. We see no men, yet this does not distract or deter the narrative in any way. The film's luscious visuals and high quality sound work, capture the sexual texture more than the typical, vanilla happenings which occur within the so called Red Room of Pain. Strickland’s film has a wonderful understanding of anticipation. The removal of stockings and tightness of pencil skirts do more to entice than flesh.

Beyond that, The Duke of Burgundy is a film that relies on convincing performances. Both Sidse Babett Knudsen and Chiara D'Anna are note perfect in their portrayal of a loving relationship coming under conflict due to wariness and obsessives. Although both play their parts straight, there’s clear allowance for subtle humour throughout. Even easy gags, such as the comfortably of sitting on someone’s face, are smartly delivered. Mostly due to the couples, quiet unflinching expression. Although I’m not sure if people will react as rambunctiously as I did when it came to the films (offscreen) urination sequence.

What both Kundsen and D’Anna mostly exude, however, is heart. The warmth of their relationship is tenderly observed, whereas in Fifty Shades, sometimes remained as cold as its overcast location.  It’s no surprise that the front cover for The Duke of Burgandy’s DVD mimics the most iconic image of Bergman’s Persona (1966).  It is indeed the dovetailing synchronicity of two people in love that we are meant to observe here. How often do we watch films of romance and find them lacking in such aspects? The Duke of Burgundy may lose some when it delves into the abstract (apart from the obvious metaphor, one may wonder about the butterflies). However, unlike Berberian Sound Studio, Strickland’s piece stays relatively sound from a narrative perspective. While retaining the auteurist tics (such as his analogue love of sound and looping of recurring events) that punctuate his filmmaking.

In the world of sexual melodramas, the almighty dollar is king. It’s difficult to see fans of Fifty Shades jumping their cruise ship to navigate choppier waters. However who may have found the antics of Grey and Steele lacking somewhat, may find something a touch more scintillating with Cynthia and Evelyn. With this couple's ability to read each other’s face, there’s very little need for a non-disclosure agreement.   

Review: Foxcatcher

Year: 2014 (2015 U.K release)

Director: Bennett Miller

Screenplay: E. Max Frye, Dan Futterman

Starring: Channing Tatum, Steve Carrell, Mark Ruffalo

Synopsis is here

There’s a mordant sense of humour running through Miller’s Foxcatcher that creeps up from time to time. Something you shouldn’t think should appear and yet is quite welcoming when it does. Watching protagonist (Tatum) strain his reasons on why winning Olympic gold is important, to a bunch of wide eyed, befuddled children has a quiet drollness to it. As is the twisted matter of Bennet Miller’s American true crime drama is ultimately a Greek Tragedy of dysfunctional families, set within the world of competitive wresting, which of course became prominent in Ancient Greece.

It’s too bad that despite having such a sense of self, Foxcatcher is such a distancing slog to get through. It’s a film which is competently crafted and features a trio of performances which, with their differing areas of physicality, do raise an eyebrow from scene to scene. The first, awkward engagement between Tatum’s Mark Schultz and his brother Dave (Ruffalo) is such an interesting jumbled mess of sibling tension and force I had high hopes for where the rest of the film was heading. Unfortunately, two considerably long hours later, I found myself still no deeper than the scratches that may have been caused during this first grapple. The tragedy between these brothers is indeed upsetting, but Miller’s remarkably static film did little to stir.

The film is understandably meant to be a little cold, as the characters we follow the most are not only unlikely bedfellows, but difficult people to engage with due to their simmering tensions between class and family. The scene in which Steve Carrell’s John E du Pont first meets Dave and his family is one of the more potent moments. Miller’s simple blocking of the scene easily show the division between the blue collar yet connected family, and the isolated aristocrat trying to purchase his way into such a warm relationship. Such moments highlight the discomfort accordingly.

Despite this, I found myself so alienated by the films blunt, matter of fact approach, I struggled to identify fully with the proceedings. This is obviously not a film to “enjoy” in the typical sense, yet at no point did my own defences go down for what was happening on the screen. The films immensely dour approach and turgid pace overshadowed the films main attractions: The cast.

Channing Tatum’s Mark is brusque and stoic creature. His jutted out jaw, furrowed brow and physical stature, hides his character’s naïve ideals which slowly seep through as the film pushes on. The roles help show the actor’s ability to corrupt the dumb, man child nature that many have known him for when cast the amusing Jump Street films. Mark Ruffalo; ever the effective character actor, morphs his poise beautifully as he becomes the film’s heart. He makes being the film only emotional link look far too easy for his own good. The intensely creepy Du Pont has Carrell channeling his inner Bela Lugosi to good measure. However, observing the real Du Pont, makes the clipped mannerisms of Carrell feel a tad overblown. There’s also a feeling that delving into the grey matter of such a troubled being is a step too far. As such, Du Pont feels a lot like a cartoon boogeyman stuck in a high class crime reconstruction. The heavy makeup doesn’t help matters.

Between this and Moneyball, Bennett Miller is locating fascinating subject matter within modern sports to focus his energies on. Foxcatcher however, does little to make me delve into the backstories of this unfortunate event in the same way that Moneyball opened my eyes to the modern ideas that lay within America’s favourite pastime. If I saw myself viewing this film again, there’s a good chance I’d be tapping out early.

Review: Whiplash

Year: 2014 (U.K Release 2015)
Director: Damien Chazelle
Screenplay: Damien Chazelle
Starring: Mills Teller, J.K Simmons, Paul Reiser, Melissa Benoist

Synopsis is here:

As cold and bitter as January can be, the month is one of my favorite times of the year. After the first week of sales, a stroll into town is a relatively clam experience. It's the month of my birthday, which makes drinking gin with a large group of gin feel extra special. However, the biggest reason of my love for January, of course boils down to going to the cinema. It's at this time when, the due to the Oscars, the more "prestigious" films find their way into the multiplexes. To me it just means we have an influx of films which are a tad more adult, and with the current cinematic trend feel much like childhood nostalgia running rampant for so much of the year, it brings substantial relief.

A grand amount of alleviation can also be found once we get to the final moments of Whiplash. The film from the start is so tightly wound you can tune it with a fork. Once the film finally cuts to black and delivers the end credits, there was a feeling of exhalation that flowed out of me, as if someone had finally cut a noose from around my neck. We often consider Jazz as unhurried and easy going. Whiplash decides to take the world of Jazz and turn it into a psychological battlefield. An aggressive battle of odds between student and mentor.

Fans of Jazz as a musical genre have argued with where the film is coming from, much like the ballet dancers who complained about how Black Swan didn't highlight their art form in a positive light. Whiplash is not playing in the same wheelhouse as American Sniper, looking at decidedly weighty subjects based on true events. Although loosely inspired by a teacher that writer/director's knew at his time as a Jazz Drummer in high school, the film is more indebted to something like Rocky (1976) rather than realism. The fact is Whiplash never delivers itself as an absolute truth, it only wishes to tell an entertaining story, and does so with aplomb.

Despite having a narrative leaner than supermarket mince, Whiplash is a neatly realised and textured drama. Damien Chazelle details his film with just the right flourishes to give the drama the right edge and to have us invested in its characters. From a foot touching another during a first date to the beads of sweat leaping of the symbols when they're hit. The film brings a rich range of characteristics to envelop us into its world, ranging from bleeding plasters, to battered and bruised hands hitting iced water. Even the contours and veins on Simmons' face. Such small moments make sure that the film, while simple in its plotting, speak volumes.

Miles Teller turns down his more comical tics for a subtly sensitive performance. Giving the type of arrogant straight man performance that goes unnoticed during award season until it's too late. It's a role of heavier lifting than we give it credit for. Playing an instrument convincingly (to a Layman), as well as providing a relatable and naturalistic performance throughout. He also has to be the right combative foil for the viper that awaits him in the other corner. J.K Simmons, as teacher Terrance Fletcher, is a near impenetrable ball of rage. A man sick of mediocre talent being passed off as "good enough", nearly every word that froths from his mouth is a well-oiled put down. Every glance, a look of contempt. Do don't just play in rhythm, you have to play well. You don't just play well, you play beyond. Fully embracing a role that only he was born to play, Simmons' is on fearsome form as Fletcher, a man who strikes nerves by merely grasping at air. This central "relationship" is the jewel of Whiplash as you wait to see who may crack first.

As stated, we're not going to Whiplash for the exact truth, and yet looking at Simmons' intimidating tutor only had me contemplating how many people had a teacher like this. I remember mine looking similar to Simmons and held similar ferocity. There are (or were, if we are to believe parents nowadays) teachers such as Fletcher, who can only gain the results they acquire through fear and thunderous displays of dominance. One of the scariest things Chazelle brings to the table is the idea that as much as we dislike Fletcher's methods or try to disbelieve in them, when his reasons are explained, it's tough not to see it on his side.

 That said, when the one of the film's most pivotal piece of information is revealed further along the line and defenses appear to be knocked down slightly. The outcome of the issue feels almost like a shrug. It's hard not to think of the term to make an omelette you have to crack a few eggs, although the eggs we're dealing with a lot more delicate.

Yet, due to Whiplash being a force of nature the film powers through. The sheer drive of these characters is what makes the film so appealing. Despite the preposterous nature the film sometimes delves into, the exhilaration of the film's final 20 minutes brings, in which we see the stakes both mentor and student at their highest, makes the films more extravagant elements all the worthwhile. It's only in the Whiplash's final moments when we the connection between two people in complete sync, do we get the feeling that we can breathe once more. Jazz has never been so thrilling.

Review: Birdman or (The Unexpected Virtue of Ignorance)

Year: 2014 (2015 U.K Release)
Director: Alejandro González Iñárritu
Screenplay: Alejandro González Iñárritu, Nicolás Giacobone, Alexander Dinelaris, Jr, Armando Bo
Starring: Michael Keaton

Synopsis is here

Wesley Morris in his positive review of Birdman questions whether its director; Alejandro González Iñárritu, has a certain type of artistic insecurity that set him apart from the likes of Alfonso Cuarón and Guillermo del Toro. A creator of grand, depressive moral tales such as 21 Grams, or Babel, I would suggest that such insecurity could come from Iñárritu's view on scope. Cuaron's 2001 road movie Y Tu Mamá También, for example, is a tidy road movie, which uses simple gestures to provide its rich emotional message. Its climatic scene delivers a small revelation which brings everything that was previously seen in perspective. Del Toro is also similar. Even within his richly detailed worlds, the people we meet remain simple and relatable.

Iñárritu often wishes to pummel you with an extremely crushing world view, which rears its head even in the films of his I've enjoyed. Iñárritu's Bitiful brings forth so much depression on such a large scale, it streams past overwhelming is descends into overbearing. The film is so bludgeoning it made me want to find a copy of the Bicycle Thieves (1948) and give a class on how to make misery manageable. Keep it simple, and you won't lose the audience.

Iñárritu's latest feature; Birdman, however, seems to work due to a condensing the whole soul crushing globalism angle. Everything is stripped down to the (still quite large) ego of actor Riggan Thomson (Keaton), who is leaving vapid blockbusters to produce a small play of personal truth. The conflicts stem from this man not understanding that the audience has changed and his search for truth has boiled down to the laboured binary of social media. Meanwhile the theatrical critical eye may not take too kindly to a man who's built his (now forgotten) fame on some bland franchise. The film holds a Synecdoche, New York (2008) vibe to proceedings. Here is a man whose insecurities are spiralling out of control in such way, that he needs them to be shrunk down. It's almost as if Iñárritu may have been absorbing some of the more negative reviews of his films. Amusingly, there is still a sense of a dominant global regime oppressing everything in its path, but it's slimmed down to merely an ex Hollywood player and his industry as opposed to the all-compassing feelings of awful affecting every orifice of life itself.

Birdman is smart about the state of modern Hollywood film making. At one moment, it's suggested that everyone major player now must don a cape now to gain work, the joke being that Keaton's Riggis not only used to be a superhero in this film, but Keaton himself set the modern ball rolling with his casting in Batman (1989), a film which helped shape some of the worst aspects of modern mainstream cinema. Some of which we now see cynically mutated into their present form by Birdman's hand.  Many of Birdman's humorous moment works when fiction bleeds into real life. The "process" of pretentious method actor Mike Shiner (Norton) becomes amusing when you consider his own background. Not only with comic book movies (he was once the Hulk), but also the rumours of Norton being difficult to work with. Seeing Norton having a ball with his rumoured personality, has a certain charm to his scenes. A wonderful exchange between Naomi Watt's Lesley and Andrea Riseborough's Laura is pitch perfect:

Lesley: "I wish I had more self-respect!"

Laura: "You're an actress."

My mind quickly casts back to when a flustered Watt's exited her interview with Simon Mayo early, while on promotional duty for the much maligned Diana (2013). The film also nails a particular type of critic (an icy Lindsey Duncan), whose more interested in their personal axes to grind rather than the name of art. It's amusing because the element of truth hits the right note. A sense of balance that Iñárritu would struggle with when giving us his more sensitive features.

The films flights of fancy are still grand and preposterous. It features a climax which mimics the opening of 8 ½ (1963). Morris also makes comparisons to Fellini and I'm inclined to agree as the film shares similar elements with the aforementioned title, although Birdman seems less interested in how the women of Riggis' life affect his personality. The film still seems a little bit more entertained with snark, with the film happily dropping the sub plots which prominently feature the female cast. The films largest spectacle: making the film appear as if it is all in one long take, is a brave and often beguiling approach. So much so that it can feel a little more distracting than engaging.

It's when the films injects its dark brand of humour, or allows the camera to settle on the smaller moments which allow the film to be at its most truthful. A sub plot featuring Emma Stone's rehabilitated daughter; Sam and the arrogant Mike is one of the most prominent sequences of the film. It's not so much what they say as opposed to how they say it and how intimately they're framed. Such framing becomes important for a film about a transitional period, which seemingly has no apparent transitions in the sense of film language. Annoyingly, Birdman loses its way, by deeming the stories more engaging sub-plots as unimportant, but spending so much time with them you wonder why they're present. Then again, it may be part of the joke.

Despite this, Birdman's lighter approach is refreshing from a filmmaker who mostly enjoys roaming in the gloom. The craft makes the film worth seeing once. The satirical edge and the sight of Michael Keaton reclaiming some of that edgy, manic energy which made him such a stalwart of the 80's/90's makes gives the film a great amount of heft. But above all this, Birdman's more concise viewpoint doesn't bog us down. After the weighty moralising that clouded the likes of Bitiful, the lightness of Birdman allows a viewer to get on board with its message. No matter how large the egos grow. Strangely, I find it no surprise that Piers Morgan has stated that he hated the film. So to be fair, a man with an ego as big as his despising this movie, definitely makes something like Birdman worth watching.

Short Read: The Ending of the Graduate

The first time I saw the ending, I was young and naïve. My mind was addled by seeing homage’s of it in The Simpsons and Wayne’s World. I first viewed it as a heroic ending. The Boy got the Girl, the antagonists were vanquished, if only for a little while. I never really watched their faces. Nor did I grasp what the shot was trying to say. To me, it was all so very… safe.

It was only during a re-watch with my girlfriend, that my ignorance slapped me in the face. The foolhardiness of the Benjamin’s “plan”. The fact that there is no plan at all. Their faces not only show their youth, but just how lost they are at such a tentative and esoteric point at their life. I saw echoes of Mrs Robinson and her reasoning behind what she was trying to do despite her methods. In their faces I noticed their realisation. There’s beauty fading in that take, and they’re only just finding out. The moment is bittersweet. Their decision may leave them as jaded as those they’ve just left. The film’s title becomes a cruel joke. The Graduate? Of what? Certainly not Life. He has a lot to learn.

When a filmmaker can crystallise all the fear, worry, jaded and misguidedness of youth, his characters feel throughout the narrative, compile it into one moment and make this captured malaise seem so universal and iconic, it is then that we have a real storyteller. R.I.P Mike Nichols.

Review: Gone Girl

Year: 2014
Director: David Fincher
Screenplay: Gillian Flynn
Starring: Ben Affleck, Rosamund Pike, Neil Patrick Harris, Tyler Perry, Carrie Coon, Kim Dickens

Synopsis is here

Normally when I'm sitting in my hometown's mall cinema, I'm gritting my teeth at the level of inane chatter that stems from people with their "unlimited cards". For me there's nothing more frustrating at a cinema than an audience who spend more time talking to each than the watching the movie. My screening of Gone Girl on its theatrical opening was different. Yes, there were audible mutterings, but for once this was because everyone watching was absorbed with what was on the screen. Not only was I enthralled by David Fincher's spiralling thriller, but liberated at just how tuned in everyone was for the movie and its many twists. This wasn't the annoying, idle chit chat that grates, irritatingly on the ears. No, this was the rumblings of the post credit debate which had started before the film had finished. The audience were all part of the page turner. There's not many recent films that can do that.

There's a lot of Fincher's 10^th feature to spoil, so I'll do my best to tread lightly on the narrative (however, note my warning of Spoilers) Films like this is one of the reasons I usually link the synopsis as opposed to writing it into the review. Any of the film's plot points could be a spoiler filled booby trap. So let's just say that Nick Dunne's (Affleck) wife, Amy (Pike) is missing, but all is not what it seems when it comes to her disappearance.

This is Fincher is pure pulp mode. Collaborating with cinematographer Jeff Cronenweth for the fourth time, Gone Girl is a film inflected with dark, noir-like imagery to match the films expose of a modern marriage which is decaying from the inside. The film's narrative is outrageous in the same way as OTT 90's thrillers such as Basic Instinct, but the films detached central couple, tap into that similar social crawl space of 'Jack' and Tyler Durden of Fincher's own Fight Club (1999), there's something eerily familiar about The Dunne's alienation. A creepy invasive feeling that connects with us in a way that we wish it didn't. The same way we wanted Tyler do blow everything sky high.

As the characters peel back each of their layers, trust suddenly becomes fluid. Each scene makes you question the last. Kirk Baxter's exquisitely timed editing gives lasts a split second less than you would have hoped. Time that would give away an awkward glance or to probe a clue for longer. Fincher's film primes us for this with its slightly too quick opening credits. We don't gain a clear image. We don't see everything, even when shown.

Working together with the novel's writer, Gillian Flynn, Fincher merrily toys with aspects of the book's structure to allow twists to occur parallel with other events. The issues of family become streamlined (ultimately lessening motives of certain characters), but the implications and scrutiny of the media is played up, made Meta and made even more tangible. Gone Girl beautifully allows Affleck to comment on his own relationship with the media as well as subconsciously taking pot shots at Robin Thicke, just because. The bolstering of the media slant is notable because it allows Fincher and the film's characters to play in a world in which image is indeed everything.

This is certainly true when we consider the so called failings of the film's gender politics. Gone Girl has been considered misogynist in certain circles and indeed for a film that explores an ugly marriage, it does seem to lean on the side of men. Yet as we move into a world in which ideas of femininity are becoming more intense, it does frustrate that so many of the think pieces that appeared after the film's release seemed to jump on the idea that the film clearly promotes rape culture as opposed to seeing a film which illustrates (many) complex women of the agency. It's understandable that we don't want to keep casting a negative eye over women in the film, but I'm also troubled by the idea that we are not allowed to have troubling women. The thriller is interesting because of its complications and dynamics between the film's women, with the film's most telling scenes displaying two women as the smartest people in the room while the males cluck around them and hold their balls.

Affleck and Pike head up a specifically cast, which highlights the best features of each member. Affleck has always been a decent self-affecting straight man (see: Changing Lanes) while Pike's mix of cool girl and ice queen has been something noted since her appearance as a Bond Girl. Without saying too much, she is dangerously effective in this role. Even the smaller roles are smartly picked. Carrie Coon is quietly tragic. Tyler Perry has a funky charm about himself while Kim Dickens has not garnered enough plaudits for her tough cookie cop role of Detective Rhonda Boney. There's also a knowing nod to How I met your Mother's Barney in the casting of Neil Patrick Harris as the wonderfully Naïve ex-boyfriend Desi.

Gone girl is not Fincher's best film, but it certainly is one of its most winking, with the film summing up the crumbling of a modern relationship in the most OTT way possible, but also doing a decent job of portraying a decimated Middle America which reanimates to an inhuman form by the pervading of the media. The Ace in the Hole style observations feel even more cutting than we give credit for as we observe a broken society that is easily forgotten while it glares mesmerised by flashing bulbs and gossipy chatter of a missing person who has the image of having it all. The film isn't perfect, with its resolution feeling slightly more obtuse than it should be. The novel also understands the headspace of these people more, while the film has a feel of punches being pulled. But there's clearly a reason why I saw Gone Girl twice. It's a delectably dark piece of entertainment.