Review: A Dangerous Method

Year: 2011
Director: David Cronenberg
Screenplay: Christopher Hampton
Starring: Micheal Fassbender, Viggo Mortensen, Kiera Knightley


For my second (and unfortunately last) film at the LFF, I was quite taken back when; for the screening of A Dangerous Method, we were greeted by one David Cronenberg. So surprised was I, that in trying to take a picture of the great man I only got blurry images. I was a little bit gutted as if I had known that there was a chance of seeing the filmmaker I would have set up my camera properly as opposed to the nonsense I took. This is yet again, something else to log down on my list of shame.

Shame is something that rears it's head within the DNA of A Dangerous Method as the pivotal character of the film Sabina (Knightley) is wrought with it. Carried to hospital kicking, screaming and giggling manically; she is brought to the attention of Dr Carl Jung (Fassbender). It is he, who decides to use the method of "talking cure" from his friend and mentor Dr Sigmund Freud (Mortensen) to try and find the foundation of her sickness. This action correlates and intensifies as the young practice of  psychoanalysis slowly grows from the relationships formed.

Martyn Conterio; founder of the wonderful film site Cinemart (can you spot the cheap plug), mentioned to me that he considers A Dangerous Method to be the quintessential Cronenberg. I'm not so sure. To me it's clearly one fascinating (and talky) part of a grander overture of his themes (repressed sexuality, the body at fault from the inside), especially in this section of his career, where it is the mind that is diseased (Spider = memory, Eastern Promises and A History of violence = personality and character) and yet there is a dryness in the film that is difficult to shake off. Cronenberg himself stated at the beginning that it is up to us to decide whether we consider the film good or bad. I indeed liked whats going on but considering previous efforts I was surprised how cold the film felt.

Many of the films scenes involves our three leads, hashing things out calmly with analysis and talk (sprinkled liberally with some light S&M), that nearly always end as a revelation or small discovery for each of the characters. Scenes are presented stylishly with many a face in extreme close up, conversing with someone else further back, mimicking Freuds "talking cure". It is obvious that these conversations shared are councilling sessions or as you could consider in Jungs case (much to Freuds disgust) confessionals with characters discussing their moods, methods and reasoning in such an analytical way that you are constantly held at a distance. Sometimes, it's a tad too much.

Cronenbergs film is very restrained, which is fair enough as we don't need exploding heads. However, considering the pedigree of the director at hand, the amount film holds back, diminishes much of the impact that could have had. In comparison to Spider; which did so well in making sure that the main character's surroundings, became his own personal circle of hell, you get the feeling that we could have got even more with this than we receive.

The film's main strengths are in it's casting. Mortensen strangely feels like how I would expect Freud to be despite never seeing a moving image. His cool wit, help defuse some of the film slightly when it wonders into it's pondering a little too deeply. Fassbender is fine here however with word coming from journalists about his second turn with Steven McQueen, and from what I've seen in other features (I love him in Fish Tank) I once again expected the world from him. Here, he is a little distilled. Knightley plays a character that I feel some will find frustrating at first, although she becomes stronger as the film continues on. It's her arc which is the strongest. Some of the films stronger scenes rely of Sabina's hold on the rigid form of Freud and the slightly more emotionally conflicted Jung. This isn't just the female as the prize and Knightley almost straddles both positions of damaged and healer, although her "mania" (all jutted out jaws and arching arms) feels slightly cartoonish at times. This is still a brave endeavour from a girl who is more believable here as a psychiatrist, than a pirate. 

For me, A Dangerous Method; much like Crash holds you at such an arms length that it's not as engaging as one would hope for. A late emotional moment caught later on, involving Jung sits awkwardly with the rest of the films goings on. The film feels most at home with a charming little conversation with Fassbender and a quick cameo from Vincent Cassell. The conversation involves sexual liberation by breaking past the social constraints we've built up for ourselves. With Cassell playing the devil on shoulder, the idea that allowing total expression and response from sexual pleasure and bypassing the our human rules harks us back to a young Cronenberg playing with sex slugs in Shivers making similar points with cheaper special effects. Despite the response not being as strong, it's interesting to see how the mighty have evolved.

Note: I really loved how the title itself means more than it lets on and can be applied in a variety of ways. Ebert mentions the same aspect much more eloquently about A History of Violence. Also it was interesting how the title cards were presented to us a similar approach was used in Spider. Nothing major just some observations.

Review: Carnage

Year: 2011
Director: Roman Polanski
Screenplay: Roman Polanski, Yasmina Reza
Starring: Christoph Waltz, Kate Winslet, John C Reily, Jodie Foster

Synopsis is here:

The film is simple. Two couples meet to civilly discuss a violent incident involving their children. Both couples dislike each other as well as their own relationships but seem compelled by their hate to remain in the room they are in. There is nothing stopping these people to leave the house (one couple almost make it twice) and yet they remain to take chunks out of each other. Their conversation devolves into childish squabble at a swift pace, covering all sorts of uncomfortable areas and philosophies. Awkward glances transform into emotional sideswipes, forced politeness descend into racial slurs. Much like Bunel's "The Exterminating Angels" Polanski gives us a brisk 80 minutes to remind us that our so called civility that we love to utilise to lord above other people (or animals) is fragile veneer nearly always willing to crack when the right pressure is applied. The film is a claustrophobic black farce with four characters who make the bastards in Closer look like Care Bears. Polanski hasn't had this fun in ages.

This is the Polanski of old, back in the apartments (see Repulsion or The Tenant) while liberally sprinkling in that enclosing feeling that haunted the images of Knife in the Water. As Polanski turns the screws you can literally see the walls crumble around these characters, so relentlessly absorbed in their own little worlds that they come across as just as childish as the kids they came to talk about. The mud is slung thick and fast and the dialogue rolls off the fork tongues with devilish glee. Polanski remains uncomplicated visually as the actors do the heavy lifting.

Craftily casted, all four performances are finely tuned, with all managing to gain laugh out loud moments, be it the bash faux homeliness of John C Reily or the droll one liners of a carnivorous Christoph Waltz. Winslet as the cold, status fuelled wife of Waltz gets the best moment of physical comedy (I didn't expect such a moment from a Polanski film) while Jodie Foster lets loose as a passive aggressive bleeding heart liberal whose whiney protests for peace through culture brought some of the most amusement from myself.

My opinion of the film is simple. One of the two films I've seen this year at the London Film Festival (work commitments have slimmed my viewing) is a tightly wound, hystercal black comedy, from a director who even nearer 80 has not lost his sharpness when it comes to the middle class climbing up the walls of their closed in apartments. I'm not sure I've laughed harder at times this year.

Review: Warrior

Year: 2011
Director: Gavin O'Connor
Screenplay: Gavin O'Connor, Cliff Dorfman, Anthony Tambakis
Starring: Tom Hardy, Nick Nolte, Joel Edgerton

Synopsis is here

I had the wonderful pleasure of watching Warrior in a cinema all to my self today. While I understand that the U.K is going through an Indian summer of sorts with all this sun despite going into October, my love of cinema always beats out my wish for a decent tan. It was a joy to have a screen to myself for a film like Warrior; the problem however, is that I had the cinema all to myself. Much like two years ago with Whip it, I found myself watching a sports film that does almost everything right and yet, empty seats...Their loss I guess.

It's not just here in the U.K either though, as Warrior's takings in the U.S were very weak also with takings that would make a premiership footballer wet himself with laughter. I've not looked into any of the reasons offered to why Warrior failed but it's pretty unfortunate for a film which has all the traits of a modern update of Rocky. Much like Stallone's crowdpleaser, Warrior comes out as America is in a state of discombobulation. However while Rocky came out during the back end of Watergate and the Vietnam War and won over audiences who had been gorging on a diet of brilliant (yet ambiguous) American new wave. The fact that Warrior has struggled to set the box office alight against a backdrop of economic stress and middle eastern wars while millions was spent on horrid nostalgia fuelled multi-metal nightmares with dubious philosophies shows that not only William Goldman is still right and "nobody knows anything", but in terms of film viewing we have a vastly different audience when it comes to going to the cinema.

I really hope Warrior finds a fanbase on DVD as despite it's flaws, the film is an highly entertaining Drama in a similar vibe to The Fighter and The Wrestler. It has a more intriguing family dynamic, but is unfortunately held back by the typical cliche minefield that the sports film can bring. The film is very obvious in it's direction with it's clear as a bell indicators (family photos and the like) and we can guess what's going to happen a mile off. It doesn't help that the film makes sure that our "split loyalties" fall heavily over one of the fighters. Ambiguity is not an option. We can also add to the list that for a film that is 140 minutes long, the central conflict feels slightly abstract. I'm a bit surprised more wasn't made from it.

None of this however, detracts from the fact that Warrior has three solid performances that make sure that make the drama work. Tom Hardy's dark and brooding performance show that it's not only the frame that make him a prime choice for Bane. Joel Edgerton (last seen in the brilliant Animal Kingdom) is on winning form here as he has what I would consider a harder part to play. Nick Nolte is the glue that holds everything together and gives an Award baiting performance. Usually such displays can annoy but Nolte hits the nail on so many scenes that it's more than worthwhile.

Warrior is very much a film of it's time, with it's fighters not only dealing with their relationship problems (this is a family of men ripped apart by aggression), but also the socio-political issues we face at this very moment. Hardy's Tommy is a post 9/11 fighter whose past is troubled with what was seen in the wars of the middle east, while Edgertons Brenden paints a worrying picture of a man whose hit hard by the economical downturn. The idea that those who teach the next generations cannot sustain themselves is something is is quickly hitting home, with a pivotal scene in a bank proving that those below the breadline are merely statistics in the green tinted eyes of the banks.  The film plays out such moments with more than enough confidence.

My review of Warrior comes across as more negative than it should be. The film is solid, glossy, life-affirming entertainment all the way through. The MMA fighting hasn't reached the visceral punch that certain boxing films have but for the first MMA feature, the fights have enough crunch to them. The drama is held up by great performances and the film has Kurt Angle as a silent Russian cage fighter (what's not to love about that?). The film does what a decent sports drama should do and that's having you punching the air at all the right moments. As I had the screen to myself I did so with gusto.

Review: Drive

Year: 2011
Director: Nicolas Winding Refn
Screenplay: Hossein Amini
Starring: Ryan Gosling, Carey Mulligan, Ron Perlman, Bryan Cranston, Christina Hendricks, Albert Brooks.

Synopsis is here:

If I wanted to act clever; when talking about Drive, I'd say something along the lines of: A brutal symphony, tinged with flecks of 80's nostalgia and machismo. But people who read this blog often should know that smarts aren't my strong point. Hell, I'm not even sure what I just said makes a lick of sense, so it's probably best to say that I felt Drive was a damn fine piece of Trash.

It's a film that clearly knows it's style over substance (there's really not much too it in terms of subtext) but WHAT style. Old school car chases (you know ones where you can see what's going on), unsubtle overblown moments in slow motion and brutality that one could describe as hyper violence.  Huff Post writer and prominent blogger Scott Mendelson hated the movie and likened it to a direct to DVD feature. However, I disagree entirely. Unlike many direct to DVD films, Drive doesn't mince words and puts its visuals, sense of place and tone to good use. Like Mendelson I don't see any underlying symbolism but I don't think the film is trying to hand any and it's all the better for it.

Drive appears like a throwback to Bullett. We have a strong silent "hero", whose intentions are good but morals are cloudy. It's easy to get frustrated at the films desire to eschew dialogue in place of lingering glances and thoughtful pauses, at first I found the film a tad clumsy with the films characters and their initial meetings with Gosling coming across a little awkward at first. However as the film goes on, the actors, their characters and the film begin to fit in their skin. We see moments involving Gosling's Driver and Carey Mulligan's Irene pretending to act like a normal family or relationship. We know this is not true throughout and I do believe it shows in the acting. From the tenuous smiles to the faux small talk we sense a connection but one that may be tragic. It great to see a relationship develop like this without the need to frivolous, throwaway trite dialogue.

It would be easy to dismiss Gosling's Driver as having a lack of backstory, however the film informs us of everything we need to know about the character in other ways. Listen to how his boss Shannon (a wonderfully on form Bryan Crannston) talks about how this drive literally dropped from the sky, look at the bare walls of the drivers apartment and how he lives (particularly at his simple rules as a getaway driver). Most importantly the films last moments involving the driver do sum up the characters life, relationships and how they interact when placed together with everything else placed together. No the film is not "deep" in the way I would describe something like Tree of Life is (or wishes to be if your a detractor) and lets not fool ourselves into thinking that this is ground breaking cinema but Drive, like Hanna, is taking generic genre tropes and taking them in different directions. It's 80's style soundtrack and slick visual style (one that does feel like a Euro director filming in America) mixed with an almost teenage angst and hardcore violence do make it stand out and the mixture of actors and direction do give it it's own voice. Compare this to something like Takers which truly wears it's generic elements on it's sleeve and I do feel you can see Drives clear strengths.

Gosling and Mulligan grow into their roles (still not fully getting the love), while Albert Brooks and Ron Perlman take pleasure in their antagonistic parts. The cast all work well, although I'm very disappointed at the fact that Christina Hendricks has even less to do than Mulligan. The star of the film however I feel, is the action. Like Hanna, we are given well executed, expertly handled set pieces (the beginning reminds me of the "slow car chase" of way of the gun at points) which grind and crunch as well as gearboxes that get worn down. Every violent act carries real weight, unlike the films pace which unlike the last Refn film I watched (Bronson) is far more breezy than I expected.

I, like so many others loved Drive, it's as brash and ballsy as the muscle cars it exhibits. It's polished design is light years away from the chaos cinema we've seen so much of in recent cinema. An old school action film with art house strands that keeps things simple and the entertainment high.

Review: Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy

Year: 2011
Director: Tomas Alfredson
Screenplay: Bridget O'Conner, Peter Straughan
Starring: Gary Oldman, Colin Firth, Tom Hardy, John Hurt, Toby Jones, Mark Strong, Benedict Cumberbatch

Synopsis is here:

At one point in the movie Kathy Burke's supporting character mentions that the second world war were happier times because at least then you were proud to be English. Burke's small almost throw away statement is one the solidarity she felt at the time of war, now lost due to an alleged mole at the head of the "circus" (MI6).  This for me is the crux of Tinker Tailor Solder Spy; a film which, almost ironically comes out at a peak of general mistrust from all around Britain.

This film adaptation of John La Carre's novel is a complex and complicated thriller, and what drives it isn't so much who the much talked about actually mole is (although I'm happy I didn't guess it straight away), but more on how loyalty is brought and corrupted. The film's seemingly low key climax is one that displays how far trust has been stretched for the wish for control. The film's final montage of the stellar cast (a beautiful mixture of both big and small screen actors) shows how deep the scars have been inflicted on these people.

Alfredson's film works so well because it take time over showing how deeply isolated the spy game is. Close relationships are broken, belittled and bargained for, information is called gold dust for good reason and moral compasses are as murky as the films cold, drab colour scheme that Alfredson utilises to enhance the tone of the film. The film is literally as grey as the the shades these characters dwell in.

Let's be very clear about this, this is no Bond or Bourne movie. The lines are never drawn out and the information we receive is drip feed to us. Alfredson demands that we hold attention for this movie and those who do will be rewarded. Dialouge is often coded and it's important to see the slight changes within a characters face rather than the words they speak. The film never speaks down to you, and Alfredson is happy to tell the films story within the visuals and the body language of the characters. The pinnacle of this lies in the performance of Gary Oldman who at 53 plays George Smiley as if he's at least 12 years older. We discover everything we need to know from the eyes behind the thickly rimmed spectacles. One of the films highlights is superbly crafted monologue by Oldman in which his brief meeting with the mysterious Karla highlights all the emotion the crackles beneath the surface. In watching the brief recollection we see that it's how the story is told (pinpointing the exact moments of loss both professionally and emotionally) that really makes what is said hit home as hard as it does.  The film is littered with such moments. Vast amounts of information communicated not by trite dialogue, but solemn glances and knowing looks.

I loved this movie not only because of its brilliant cast and delicately sombre tone, but its an eye for detail and a wish to let said details envelop around you. The film makes sure you know it's two hours long and makes sure that every character is accounted for. The depth we manage to gain from even one scene of some the supporting roles is at times astonishing. Those who rely on the summer sun blockbuster guns, girls and car chases will be sorely disappointed that Commissioner Gordon doesn't do any physical ass kicking here. But those looking for an adult feature will find much to gain from it. The paranoia lies within the characters as thickly as the dusty old rooms they inhabit. The relationships and trust these people have worked so hard to build is on a constant knife edge. Despite being a period piece (Early 70's) the understands that even now in the age of information it's all about holding the right cards. Everyone here has poker faces to die for.