Review: Before I Go to Sleep

Year: 2014
Director: Rowan Joffee
Screenplay: Rowan Joffee
Starring: Nicole Kidman, Mark Strong, Colin Firth

Synopsis is here

Before I go to sleep is the type of pot boiler that you saw often in the 90’s. Usually late at night on terrestrial television. The film gets top marks for being thematically relevant, but its execution, is nothing to write home about.

Based on a popular bestselling 2011 novel, Before I Go to Sleep is another entry into “amnesia films”. Like Memento (2000), the film has a central character, whose ailment is so acute, it allows those around them to insidiously manipulate their fragile situation. When done well, you get Memento; an acidic thriller that is hard to shake off to this day. Before I go to sleep is a more neutered and neutral thriller. It’s as long as they come, but it’s so trim, there’s little to give it character. The film is smooth enough in its craft, but it's sanded down in such a way that there's no rough edges to make it stand out. Joffee makes a simple, moderate movie that does little to offend, however, after predicting the film's outcome in the first ten minutes, there wasn't much else to make me want to hang around. I stayed, however, because I’m not Rex Reed.

There’s nothing inherently wrong with Before I Go to Sleep. Nicole Kidman does the cracked porcelain doll thing well. Mark Strong and Colin Firth are cast for clear, obvious reasons and both play to their strengths. The film's most interesting element is how the texts could be considered within the feminist argument. Here we have a fractured and damaged woman whose world is controlled and manipulated by the men she knows. The incident which brought about her amnesia, as well as the amnesia itself, creates an interesting commentary on how abused women are viewed, and how the trauma affects the victim’s psyche. Kidman’s line of “I wish I wasn't scared all the time” is an all too knowing remark.

This said, the film's overall execution makes little waves. Before I go to sleep, may perhaps be a more interesting book, with the film's streamlined execution, doing little to make us grasp hold of its characters. While the storytelling allows the viewer to stay one step ahead of the film. Not the place you need to be with a feature like this.

The film trundles along, with Kidman trembling nervously through the film's intentionally drab blue/ gray cinematography and Hitchcockian conceits. Yet when comparing this to films of last year, which gave us ludicrous, stylised, yet highly entertaining thrillers such as Trance, Side Effects and Stoker, this slightly dour, workman-like effort may find itself as fodder for bleary eyed insomniacs more than anything else.

Review: Lucy

Year:2014

Director: Luc Besson

Screenplay: Luc Besson

Starring: Scarlet Johansson, Morgan Freeman, Amr Waked, Choi Min-sik

Synopsis is here

Note: The opening of this review contains spoilers for three Scarlett Johansson movies, including this one.

It happened with a hint of humour and romance with Her. It also occurred to a more devastating effect in Under the Skin. Now here, in Lucy, Scarlet Johansson once again gathers all the human information she can, gains a complete understanding of humans as a species, before dissipating into the atmosphere and exiting our existence when her capacity for us have reached her peak. In Lucy, this trait of the actress is perhaps at its most ludicrous and yet still provides a certain amount of engagement.

Lucy is ridiculous in the same way that Neveldine and Taylor are. Our lead character accidentally overdoses on an experimental drug, and begins to level up in percentage figures. It's not enough that we have a dump truck of exposition around every corner. No, said information is often visualised by overtly obvious metaphors. So when you see a wide eyed Lucy quivering like a gazelle mesmerised by a cheetahs glare. The film cuts to a direct, on-the-nose, visual of such an event. Heroes and villains are broadly defined in such a way, I’m surprised we didn't have their name and main characteristic tattooed on their forehead. The premise of the movie is built around the debunked theory that we only use ten percent of our brain. There's a feeling amongst some that brainpower was not at full capacity when thinking of the scripting.

Lucy is part comic, part video game and all lunacy. The film is equal parts Limitless, The Fifth Element and Crank and it revels in its nuttiness, as did I for the most part. The film's channel hopping, A.D.D craziness will irritate some, but I have to admit it's the first piece of Besson tinged madness that I've had a laugh in for quite a while. The fact it's clearly winking at the camera and acknowledging its silliness is one thing, but the gusto and lack of cynicism is quite refreshing. Lucy wants the viewer to hop on for the ride as opposed to push shock buttons obnoxiously. Something that often distracts me from the likes of Nev/Taylor.

A lot of Lucy’s fun stems from its casting. The doe eyed and anatomically pleasing Scarlett Johansson, already showed in Under the skin just how well she can do the flat, distant performance. Demonstrating that segregated from human beings look is difficult to pull off without looking like its “bad” acting. Johansson loses the more serpentine movements that inflections that were noted in Johnathon Glazer’s sci-fi, and instead fuses her overdosing action hero with sharp, analytical head swipes and eye darts. Again Johansson makes the whole not-of-this-realm thing seem effortless.  Morgan Freeman appears to bring forth the necessary “wisdom” to proceedings, kicking off with a tutorial that clearly drives the film's tongue into its cheek. It’s an actioner which drolly muses over its powered protagonist entering God mode. Set pieces don’t last too long here, and why the hell should they? Johansson has pressed iddqd. We shouldn’t expect a near tiresome display of stunts. Although the sequences we see have their quirks. Lucy manages to indulge into the silliness of superheroes with a certain cartoonish aplomb.

Maybe I’m just happy that Besson keeps his expansive (and silly) ideas, light, loose and under 90 minutes. The film doesn't offend me by being longer than it needs to be, although the execution of the film’s last act lacks a certain punch. However, by the time Lucy starts communicating with telecom communications through windscreens, I was already too immersed in films nonsense to mind too much. Feather-brained it may be, but Lucy once again showcases Scarlett Johansson as a sassy alternative to Jason Statham and has Besson finding the right vehicle for his lunacy.  There’s much talk about Johansson’s Marvel’s arrangements, but if Johansson wants to keep pursuing this type of madcap premise, count me in. 

Review: Blue Ruin

Year: 2013 (U.K Release 2014)

Director: Jeremy Saulnier

Screenplay: Jeremy Saulnier

Starring: Macon Blair, Devin Ratray, Amy Hargreaves

Synopsis is here:

While reading the deftly crafted review of Blue Ruin from my good friend and accomplished cinephile Micheal Ewins, I couldn’t shake off my own feeling of indifference towards the movie. I couldn’t feel the way Mike does about this movie, despite the film really being something I’d usually devour.

Blue Ruin is the little revenge movie that could. A sophomore effort from its writer/director; Jeremy Saulnier, which gained it’s funding through Kickstarter and managed obtain a decent theatrical run along with its VOD release. It inhabits the same morbid humor that resides in the earlier Coen brother's efforts. Visually; its warm yet muted colour tones do a lot to hide the grim violence that punctuates certain scenes. The central performance of Macon Blair is a formidable one, balancing the character of Dwight’s fear, tragedy and confusion within his spoon wide eyes.  It’s clear in the film's craft, that despite the film's small budget, ambition resides in the filmmakers. Blue Ruin’s brittle tale of vengeance, features bold, messy acts of violence, spans across states and really wishes to speak about the circular hold of brutal revenge.

As the film draws into its second half, however, the film shifts into a slower gear, and never really push on the bonds that were forged in the early stages. Saulnier really sets the scene in the films beginning and deftly drives the film with its imagery over dialogue. You can feel the tension in the films first assault. The meeting of Dwight and his estranged sister; Sam (Amy Hargreaves) is one subtly fought with despair. By the time Dwight releases his true destination, however, the film itself loses steam. I never gained the sense of unpredictability that my friend Micheal enjoyed. While we should lose a certain connection with Dwight as he descends into this world of malice, I found myself losing the empathy that I felt back at the Diner where Dwight chats to his sister. I found myself simply waiting for the films beats to play out. An element of surprise had somehow been lost along with some pacing.

There’s still lots to take from Blue Ruin. A quiet pause for tea evokes one of the darkest moments of Goodfellas (1990). While the idea of keeping things “in house” is the disturbing thought that this may be the only way certain types of justice can be served in these backwoods. The performances are effective enough and the dark, offbeat humor does raise a smile. Yet when I compare this to the intentionally confusing and conflicting of Claire Denis’ Bastards (2013) or Shane Meadows powerful Dead Man’s Shoes, Blue Ruin feels a tad shallow. That said a film that manages to get me to chuckle at a wrongly placed garden rake is still a worthwhile view.  

Review: The Sacarment

Year: 2013 (U.K. Release 2014)

Director: Ti West

Screenplay: Ti West

Starring: Joe Swanberg, Amy Seimetz, Kate Lyn Sheil

Synopsis is here

I didn’t give The Sacrament further thought after watching it and there lies the problem. The idea is a strong. Something that I usually enjoy pursuing. The writer/director behind the film is one I admire and generally enjoy his work. The problem I found is that the main influence of the movie, was much more terrifying in real life than anything The Sacrament throws at us. If you’ve seen the terrifying documentary Jonestown: The Life and Death of Peoples Temple (2006), then this may seem like an unnecessary appendix.

Ti West is a curious filmmaker. I enjoy the genuine affection he has given to his previous, vintage tinged horror. I’m also a big fan of the unhurried pace of his storytelling. Allowing the unease to creep into the frame.  In both The Innkeepers (2011) and The House of the Devil (2009), West pulls off the difficult task of making the mundane feel macabre and does so by giving his scenes a touch more breathing space.  He once again tests the attention spans of some of the more easily distracted patrons, but giving The Sacrament a similar pace. The length has been never my issue with this film, however as the films other elements never seemed to gel.

Despite being a “found footage” horror, the film’s smooth camera work does little to instill the fear of god. Add to this the film’s flat dialogue, awkward performances and the films wish to try and recreate the Jonestown massacre like an overtly polished crime re-enactment more than a film in its own right. Unlike Kevin Smith’s grim and grubby Red State (2011), which holds the right balance between its influences and Smith’s fictional aspects, The Sacrament feels too much like mimicry to stand out on its own. 

Whereas Jonestown: The Life and Death of Peoples Temple  manage to startle with its small inserts of grainy VHS footage, allowing the survivors recounting of the story to fill in the gaps. The Sacrament explicitness only ever feels forced. Small moments are effective. Reaction shots of children obliviously sucking down Kool-Aid are unsettling, while Gene Jones’ “father” has a distinct sleaziness to his charming speeches.

The film, however, never gets really gets under the skin as it should. Strangely, it feels slightly too close to the material, it’s influenced by, yet holds none of the power. It’s a shame the film never reaches the same woozy feeling that the likes of Gus Van Sant’s Elephant (2003) creates, although that movie is more intelligent with its usage of points of view. The Sacarament stumbles over simpler aspects. West’s found footage movie suffers from the tropes which annoy others when they watch similar films. A camera is dropped when a character tries to evade gunman. The solders fine the camera a leave it (after dropping typical explanatory dialogue) and then leave the camera, despite being extremely wary of the filming near the beginning of the film. Other cameras clearly get destroyed while filming, yet have footage that blend seamlessly with the rest of the film. The found footage is an interesting angle, but awkwardly utilised. That said, the film’s opening segments lend a certain web 2.0 authority to them.

The Sacarment never feels like it cracks the veneer of civility in the way that one would like. Certain parts feel too manufactured, while other aspects have a clumsiness about them I just wouldn’t expect. The Sacrament won’t put me off the next Ti West film, but this entry feels all very surface level. Particularly where other flawed yet provocative films about cults have been released recently. The Sacrament has a competency that raises it above a few one or two found footage films, but it never manages to capture the spirit of the time like it could. Better luck next time.  

Review: Dawn of the Planet of the Apes

Year: 2014

Director: Matt Reeves

Screenplay: Mark Bomback, Rick Jaffa, Amanda Silver

Starring: Andy Serkis, Jason Clarke, Gary Oldman, Keri Russell, Toby Kebbell, Kodi Smit-McPhee

Synopsis is here

For me, the biggest issue with the ever expanding summer film season, has a lot to do with the frequently changing narrative that occurs very Friday. As each tent pole gets released, last week’s film, and the column inches that come with it. Dawn of the Planet of the Apes was released a week before Guardians of the Galaxy exploded onto the scene, yet it feels like the good word that came with the film had been lost by how to make dancing Groot pages. This is something of a shame. I for one believe that Dawn of the Planet of the Apes is the more effective film.

The nostalgia loving fans of Guardian of the galaxy were quick to label their film fun. In fact, to hold any argument to some people, that was the only statement given. “Shut up. It’s fun!” That’s all you need. The near obsessive call to have blockbusters that only seem to call back to the considered glory years of the 1980’s is more than a little strange. Mainly to the superficiality of it all. The likes of Chris Pratt’s slightly slobby space rouge gives a warm fuzzy feeling to those still whipped up in the eighties revival party, in that it’s different (new source) but not (comfortably familiar). James Gunn’s jovial yet frivolous feature utilises the slightly tiring template to a tee. Yet that doesn’t matter too much because fun is Chris Pratt. Whom I’ve already witnessed on meme replacing his face over Harrison Ford’s in Indiana Jones. New face, same feel. 

It is here I find Matt Reeves’ Dawn of the Planet of the Apes as a much more forward thinking creature. It finds enjoyment in the grooves of the uncomfortable. It is also fun, but it’s prepared to suggest more than quick flashes of amusement. Its opening credits are an impressive world map of lights as the deadly simian flu slowly begins to take hold of the globe. From the start it primes us for risk, in a blockbuster world where we’re doing our best to ensure our heroes, like the goddamn Goonies, never die.

Drawing heavily from the themes, ideas and motifs that appeared across the whole of the original franchise; Dawn, like its processor Rise, is a taut and economic blockbuster. While the film still comes in at over two hours, Dawn observes the franchise’s important areas of focus and compiles in one film, what the four original sequels needlessly stretched out excessively. Much of this stems from a keener eye on the narrative from both the screenwriters and director. But Dawn’s highly praised technological elements, heavily improve upon the issues being placed across. The CGI allows apes with more distinction. The money spent allows world building of a grander scale and more plausible action. All this combined together gives us an action feature that is often, more the sum of its parts.

Bookended by a pair of watchful, unwavering primate eyes, Dawn of the Planet of the Apes is quick to throw us into the world of the apes before we ever see a human. The film forces us to absorb their world; a mixture of overgrown jungle and lost suburbia. We observe the apes; their ways of communication (mostly sign language) and their laws and social structure. What fascinated me about the film’s opening, is just how much the film is pushing us to relate to the apes way of being over the humans. Peter Jackson’s King Kong has elements of this, but nothing to this extent. By the end of the first act, I felt totally accustomed to their ways and habitat. Matt Brown expressed difficulty in relating to Ceasar and the apes in his always intelligent MAMO podcast, however when placing in consideration the socio-political aspirations and ideals that lie within franchise, (both old and new) as well as the unnervingly timely events that have occurred in St Louis, These new chapters in the apes saga seem quick to express that we as an audience need to address who or what we relate to within a movie screen. In a world where no one had a problem with a science teacher, becoming a drug overlord, we should be ok with intelligent apes. I certainly was.

Once the film's human characters enter the frame, Reeves’ carefully ratchets the tension from scene to scene. Tentative alliances are balanced in such a way that even smaller scenes lay delicately on tender hooks. We’re never too sure about whether the mood will change due to a gesture, tone of voice, or a stray bullet. Reeves’ film shows the assertiveness that came with the likes of Let Me In and Cloverfield, but Dawn has allowed his confidence to really flourish in his storytelling. The film’s screenplay is smart enough, but there are decisions in the visuals, characters and storytelling that are clearly showing a steady growth of a mainstream filmmaker. It’s certainly becoming extremely clear of the faith, directors have with Andy Serkis, whose positioning within the motion capture world is one of extreme importance, particularly within this world.

Dawn does struggle with a few issues. The films pacing in the latter stages is not ideal, with elements of the climax feeling a little tacked on. Granted the film underground section wishes to nod to Beneath the Planet of the Apes, but the film's pace slows right down and the film loses some of the tension that was built. The film also follows the blockbuster trend of not really knowing what to do with its female characters. Keri Russell has more agency as a nurse than Sally Field in The Amazing Spiderman 2 or Elizabeth Olson in Godzilla, but she seems hardly essential to the plot. The films action is well structured and delivers us a wonderfully iconic image of rampant monkey carnage on horseback, yet no set piece feels as strong as the Golden Gate Bridge sequence from Rise.

This maybe because I was more caught up in the film's storytelling than anything else. A small but smart touch is having one of the film's characters, teach Cornelius English with a certain graphic novel, which like the Trouble man album found in Captain America: The Winter Solider says more about the film's themes than is the first lead on. When a supporting character, Carver begins to sound off about apes and their aggressiveness, I’m suddenly reminded of real life behaviors sounding eerily similar. Such moments evoke a gut impact that’s hard to shake off.

Meanwhile, the behavior of the film’s two antagonists isn’t just “bad guy” plot mechanics, they stem organically character's history and past interactions. What’s significant about both “villains” is they’re not necessarily wrong in their actions. Both appear to want the best for each side.  Both antagonists are more engaging than anything Ronan the Destroyer can muster.

On its surface, Dawn of the Planets of the apes is a solid blockbuster. A thrilling popcorn cruncher when it needs to be. It’s a “fun” movie, which is what everyone wants it seems. Under the hood, however, is an emotional and intelligent piece, which provokes the kind of responses that have slowly been disappearing from the mainstream blockbuster. Dawn casts its eye over themes such as civil rights, humanity and survival with a keenness in its eye that a viewer like myself will lap up with a hungry enthusiasm. The Planet of the Apes are now eight films deep and span over four decades. Now, with this recent interruption of the material, we are once again reminded that if we take off the rose tinted glasses of “fun” we can still enjoy escapist thrills while taking on board thoughtful and on point commentary. Same face. Fresh feelings.