An absolutely seminal moment in documentary filmmaking and indeed easily one of the best films of 2010. This masterful film follows the rise to fame of Brazilian Formula One driver Ayrton Senna, focusing on his time with the sport and, unusually, it only uses footage from the time rather than filming interviews now and cutting back and forth, feeling much more like an unfolding drama than a conventional documentary. Personally, I’m not in the least bit interested in F1, so the fact I loved this already speaks volumes. The story it tells has all of the best ingredients that true legends are made from, with high drama that you couldn’t artificially create and a very, very human element at its heart.
In essence the film asks two questions, what to do when you find yourself in a corrupt environment (as Senna does with the FI setup), whether that be a social group or a place of work, and what does it take to be happy, something which is hammered home by Senna telling us he enjoyed himself the most when he was racing for pleasure, with no money or politics attached to it, and we see him constantly chasing the next title never really seeming completely fulfilled – something which is common in many walks of life, certainly to the average person winning even one world title is enough to be pretty satisfied with and yet the reality for the individual can be quite different. Similarly, we watch him fight against the system, but it invites discussion about how to do that effectively without perhaps it getting to you more than you it – is it better simply to leave and walk away?
Not knowing the details of the story makes this all the more compelling so I won’t say anything more, other than give it a go and let its significance play out for yourself …
This is one film that’s tough to go the distance with, slicing fifty minutes out of the beginning would certainly improve matters as the first half is lacking in almost every department. It’s Clint Eastwood’s latest directorial effort (one of his older films makes a brief appearance, but he remains behind the camera this time around) and it’s based on the award winning musical of the same name which documents the rise to fame of sixties sensations Frankie Valli and The Four Seasons, with John Lloyd Young as Valli and Vincent Piazza, Erich Bergen and Michael Lomenda playing band members Tommy DeVito, Bob Gaudio and Nick Massi respectively.
It’s really the same old story that seems to chart the progress of nearly every band and musician immortalised on film – humble beginnings, success, excess and then infighting that brings an end to the group. Initially, the cinematography and funeral march pace to the film cause huge problems – everyone and everything has a horrid eerie paleness that makes the people look more like spectres than live actors, but the singing and acting doesn’t really fit the bill either, with Valli at times about as vocally emotive as a dying squid. Eventually, as time passes in terms of years, more colour comes back in, or rather less is taken out, and when it comes to the larger numbers, everything is a little more polished and fluid. It suggests that a famous scene from Billy Wilder’s ‘Ace in the Hole’ (51) is responsible for one of their biggest hits ‘Big Girls Don’t Cry’ (and it’s a really terrific film if you haven’t seen it, although if it’s the scene I think it is the clip here cuts off before the main event as it were). Unfortunately, despite picking up significantly, it never really proves terribly interesting, although it is at least partially successful in extolling the virtues of looking out for family and taking responsibility for one’s actions.
What is a thoroughly compelling story from start to finish is nevertheless constantly held back by ludicrous casting choices and major flaws from screenwriters Paul Harris Boardman and Scott Derrickson, and critically from director Atom Egoyan, preventing this from becoming surefire awards worthy material. It’s adapted from the 2002 novel of the same name by Mara Leveritt, which detailed the harrowing true story of the disappearance of three young boys in the small town of West Memphis, Arkansas, in the early nineties, and the ensuing criminal trial of three teenage suspects thought to have been involved.
The film on the one hand plays with the potential innocence of the accused, but on the other we are shown right at the beginning an event taking place just after the kids go missing involving a man going into a restaurant and arousing suspicion, then legging it before the police arrive. It couldn’t be more heavily suggested he is involved, and yet no further mention of it is made until much farther into the movie, undermining everything in-between because we know of its existence and continually ask ourselves ‘why is nobody talking about this pretty major smoking gun event that the police are aware of?’. There are other major developments in terms of the evidence that feel like they aren’t being dramatised to the degree they should be, and in fact they get little more than some sighs of surprise in the courtroom, and a number of casting choices which immediately point suspicion due to their respective back catalogue of roles all continues to undermine the unfolding plot. Indeed, there are basic forensic questions which are never touched upon in the film and yet they absolutely must have been in the actual trial.
Even some of the characters seem dubious – Colin Firth plays an investigator who offers his services pro bono out of a sense of safeguarding justice, with the accused potentially facing the death penalty, and we see him constantly eyeing Reese Witherspoon (who plays the mother of one of the missing children). We assume that there is some connection there which will come to light later on but it turns out there isn’t one, he simply feels a lot of empathy for her. That kind of sums up the whole film – all of the right ingredients just orchestrated together poorly.
The performances themselves are all fine, though possibly Firth is stretching the most here, with an American accent which is good but quietens further his already quite reserved voice. Once upon a time a law student friend of mine took me to the public gallery in court for an afternoon’s excursion, which I have to fully recommend to anyone who has never been as it is utterly fascinating to watch the process of real trials unfolding, but I’ll never forget one poor woman who was taken into the court in cuffs and within a matter of minutes the judge had ascertained that the police hadn’t in reality secured a single piece of evidence against her and, understandably unhappy about this, she demanded that the accused be immediately released after having been in custody for a period of some weeks awaiting the hearing. I simply couldn’t believe that in this day and age something like that could happen, and along these lines films like this are very important because they highlight not only the effects of serious crime, but also the fallibility of officers who may care more about getting ‘a result’ than unearthing the truth of the matter at hand (if you ever have any dealings with the police ALWAYS make sure you exercise your right to have a lawyer present).
A courtroom drama that could, and should, have been much more intricate still remains compulsive viewing, and a story that will stay with you for a very long time.
Universally panned by critics and booed by the Cannes audience that were, ahem, graced with its world premier. Despite ostensibly being about the life of Grace Kelly, one of the biggest movie stars of all time – who married Prince Rainier III of Monaco in 1956 to become Grace, Princess of Monaco, this is really just a short, albeit eventful, chapter of her life and centers around the politically charged cauldron of intrigue that the principality found itself in with Charles de Gaulle of France, who threatened to extinguish the nation’s sovereignty if he did not get his way (according to the film at any rate). Likely, this political context strongly influenced the negative reaction in Cannes, a mere 42km or so down the French Riviera from Monaco.
It is interesting – detailing an event in history that was certainly new to me, and indeed presenting one of those moments when you think to yourself, ‘how come I’ve never heard about this before?’. Well, part of the reason for this is that huge swathes of its ‘history’ are fabrications. The personal goings on are of course speculation and invention, with a few events which did occur but a decade earlier than shown, in fact the Royal Family of Monaco have suggested people simply obliterate the lot of it in a press release about the movie, but whilst artistic license with unknown material is to be expected the liberties taken with the facts are simply too egregious to be ignored – like showing de Gaulle being politically outmanoeuvred by Grace by her contriving to have him show up for an event that he never in reality actually attended, and portraying the French as almost pantomime bad guys in order to have the audience sympathise with the protagonists without properly explaining the debate at hand. It’s a shame, Tim Roth as Rainier and Nicole Kidman as Kelly are good to watch, the story flows fairly naturally with the idolisation of the central heroine feeling appropriate rather than gratuitous, although director Olivier Dahan certainly stumbles and falls on more than one occasion.
An effort has been made to mimic to a degree the cinematography of the films Kelly herself starred in – even using obvious studio screens for the backgrounds as Kidman drives around the winding precipitous upland roads of Monaco. Indeed, there is a nod in the direction of what oddly stands out as one of the most memorable scenes in ‘To Catch a Thief’ (55) as we watch Hitchcock (played by Roger Ashton-Griffiths) being driven up to a cliff edge overlooking the whole of the city and, by extension, the entire nation – in the movie Cary Grant and Grace Kelly drive up to the same spot and it’s memorable for both the view and the moment, but it’s also very obvious this scene takes place within a studio and then suddenly, when Grant gets out of the car and walks to the boot, it cuts to location footage with, presumably, body doubles, before once again cutting back to the studio when he gets back into the car. It’s good to know even one of the world’s most famous and revered filmmakers wasn’t afraid to fudge it when he had to …
The film also fits in nicely to this era in the life of Hitchcock and the stories told in both ‘Hitchcock‘ and ‘The Girl‘, in fact chronologically this should be watched in between the two if you intend to see all three. The ending continues to cause problems – the very end bizarrely feels more like that of ‘The Return of the King’ (03), but during a climatic speech from Princess Grace the camera zooms in way, way too much on her face. We can see globules of mascara collecting, the scar from Nicole Kidman’s nose job and the insides of her nostrils in high definition, her bloodshot eyes focused by collecting tears – it’s about as far removed from a classical edit as you can get and it does detract from the moment but, having said that, it does make even the very glamorous and beautiful Nicole Kidman herself look, well, the very opposite of that – perhaps it was an attempt at vulnerability, and to humanise the glamour? Perhaps …
With Frank Langella, Parker Posey and Derek Jacobi in support.
Written and directed by the animation legend that is Hayao Miyazaki (who retired after the film’s completion, although he also did the same thing after releasing ‘Princess Mononoke‘ …) this latest from Studio Ghibli returns to a familiar motif for the company – that of aerial flight, portraying a fictionalised biography of Jiro Horikoshi who we see literally dreaming of becoming an aeronautical engineer in Japan in the decades leading up to the Second World War, and we watch as he realises his dream, creating planes far greater than anything Japan had to offer previously, but at the same time they are perverted by the powers that be into machines of death and destruction. With the time and setting such as they are, there are constant haunting echoes of the disastrous future awaiting everyone, again a theme not new to the animation house. The film is very heavily burdened by a lacking narrative that really tests the audience’s patience, but it does just manage to salvage itself via, eventually, the introduction of a love story with a girl Jiro once saved when they were both younger, and who is now suffering from TB. This adds to the whole transient snapshot of creativity and life we’re watching, before the billowing flames of war burn all, and the variety of the skilled animation together with a very fitting score and sound design ensure it’s still a film of merit, but it probably should have been quite a bit better.
Wonderful film that shows the true to life adventure of one young woman’s determined journey through the deserts of Western Australia in the mid 1970’s, from Alice Springs in the heart of the country all the way to the Indian Ocean. The woman in question is Robyn Davidson, played in a fairly gutsy portrayal here by Mia Wasikowska, who became famous as ‘the camel lady’ through her stoic decision to try and travel alone with only a few camels to carry her luggage as company, despite not having a penny to her name to begin with. Eventually, she is forced to accept funding from National Geographic and begrudgingly has to occasionally suffer the company of their photographer Rick Smolan (Adam Driver), leading to one of the most interesting moments when she can’t stand his presence and talking anymore and so decides to shag him to just to get him to shut up. It’s certainly a novel approach to seduction.
Lurking behind this sudden jumping of her companion’s bones is a crawling loneliness that echoes throughout the film and eats away at the main character, who is kind of making the grandest statement of just how much it defines her, and we see shades of her past with the suicide of her mother that underpins her young adult relation to the world. The film takes its time and consistently treats us to views of the austere landscape whilst a very well judged score plays throughout, interspersed with moments of human interaction and reflection, and this technique works really well for the narrative, with the balance and tone suitably adjudged by director John Curran (‘The Painted Veil’ 06, ‘Stone’ 10), and it certainly shows lots of promise for debut screenwriter Marion Nelson. Definitely worth going to see.
Boring with a capital B – this follows in the vein of the two films about Coco Chanel, both of which were death affirmingly dull, as the French language biography of another power house in the fashion world, in this case Frenchman Yves Saint Laurent – and what does he have of interest or value for the cinema going public? Well, not much really, we learn he was vain and spoiled, what a surprise, and that he liked having sex with men as well as women, again what a surprise, and that his ego and his vices took a catastrophic toll on his life. Not clichéd at all then, but there is also a coldness to the direction and the acting that makes it difficult to really get into the film. It warms up a little later on, possibly due to the story moving to the warmer climes of Morocco, but if you’re really interested in Laurent you would be much better off investing in some of the literature concerning him, rather than this somewhat ill conceived wreck of a movie.
The timing of coming to write this review couldn’t be any more topical. This is a well acted and well executed Polish film focusing on the real life exploits of Ryszard Kukliński, codename Jack Strong, who, throughout the 1970’s, used his position within the Polish military to pass on Soviet secrets to the CIA. The story has a strong connection with that of the rise of the Solidarity movement, documented in Walesa – Man of Hope, as both historical narratives were largely generated by the brutal and lethal suppression of the 1970 riots in the Polish north, riots begat by a crippling rise in food prices.
Marcin Dorocinski gives a wonderful and sympathetic central performance as Kukliński, and the rest of the cast, including Patrick Wilson, Maja Ostaszewska and Dagmara Dominczyk all do a convincing job of selling a tension fraught scenario of espionage and political consequences. The language oscillates between Polish, English and Russian, with Wilson’s verbal adroitness in Polish a bit of a revelation (until I realised he’s married to Dominczyk – interestingly, commentary has been made in the media of late on the dramatic rise in the number of Scottish men learning Polish, a rise no doubt directly proportional to the large influx of incredibly beautiful Polish ladies to our shores …) and the most poignant aspect of the plot involves one Russian general’s secret plan to effectively use Eastern Europe to start World War III, and how the plan was thwarted.
How many of the facts have had liberties taken with them here is difficult to tell, but in light of Russia’s recent belligerent activity in the Black Sea, it hardly sounds fanciful. This, then, is very much an important political film of our current time and not just a dramatic retrospective of what the whole world thought was a bygone era. Indeed, it seems like Putin regards international politics as markedly similar to a game of Diplomacy (wherein Sevastopol is one of the most hotly fought over areas for its strategic port) and comparisons with Hitler’s annexation of Austria are not only merited, but quintessential to the furore of debate going on. In the game of Diplomacy it’s vital early on to get the territories you want whilst seeming as reasonable as possible to the other players in the vicinity – if you take a look below at Hardtalk’s Stephen Sackur interviewing Putin’s spokesman and long time major player in the Russian government’s media machine Dmitry Peskov, aired just a few hours ago, you don’t have to be an expert at reading people to tell he’s not quite the full shilling.
Indeed, if Peskov was playing the board game he would be promptly laughed out of Europe on the basis of this interview. It was interesting too that Sackur makes mention of the recent referendum and how not only did it take place under the threat of Russian guns, but that the people had no option in the vote to the keep the status quo in place. This is a pretty major point that the BBC have elsewhere repeatedly not made mention of in their regular updates – in fact they actually seem to be giving the impression there is a level of legitimacy to the vote, with one of the correspondents asking a Ukrainian politician if he didn’t simply have to now accept Crimea has become a part of Russia, which is way, way off the mark for independent journalism.
There would seem to be, at this juncture when tensions and military aggression are rising, a rather opportune way out for the Ukrainian leadership. They should first settle and unite the rest of the country, using every ploy they can think of and perhaps with the timely bringing forward up of the upcoming May presidential election, and simultaneously the majority in their parliament, the Rada, should unite in promising a new referendum in Crimea should the Russians leave voluntarily as speedily as they arrived – a referendum that would be fair and monitored by the international community, including Russian delegates. This would put the ball back into Putin’s court and throw their claims of legitimacy right back at them. It’s very unlikely Russia would back down now given Putin has signed the papers accepting Crimea, but it would make their position much more difficult and buy the Ukrainians more time, and if they somehow did retreat even if the Crimea still went and joined Russia, it’s still better than bloodshed and the escalation and destabilisation that most likely Moscow is hoping will arise. Plus it would give Russia a graceful way of regaining some international favour, as they’d surely fancy their chances at Crimea willingly joining them, and indeed it could set a favourable precedent for them with other Russian speaking areas along their border, but a diplomatic battle to win over the people of a region, is always a million times more preferable to an armed struggle against vastly superior military forces, so it’s kind of a win-win given the current powder keg sizzling away on the peninsula.
Interestingly, toward the end of ‘My Perestroika’ one of the interviewees voices his concern that the current Russian government is heading back down the path of the old Soviet ways of repression and indoctrination, a view which seems to be borne out by events. It would perhaps be telling to see a fair and free independence referendum taking place in Chechnya, or indeed throughout many of the other constituent parts of Russia …
George Clooney not only directed this, but also co-write the screenplay with Grant Heslov not long after the pair of them co-produced ‘Argo’, and frankly listening to Clooney’s character here talking about the importance of history after he and his buddy completely raped a well documented event in their last collaborative effort, is a sick joke. No doubt they were hoping to replicate their charm offensive that somehow seen Argo take home the best film Oscar, but happily this film, even without the various cries of historical inaccuracy and complaints that the lives of people who actually died as part of the team (the monuments, fine arts and archives {MFAA} unit) have been ignored, is complete rubbish in almost every respect.
The unit’s task was to enter war torn mainland Europe just after D-Day and try to ensure wherever possible the safety or repossession of the most valued works of art and monuments that may otherwise be in harms way from bombing campaigns and the retreating German army as well as Hitler’s known fondness for nicking national and private treasures. It should be a fascinating and exciting tale, and indeed its only success is the relation of some events which were not really common knowledge and highlight the importance of these men’s work, and yet – can we believe these events? Sadly, because Clooney is involved no we can’t, not without embarking on a truth finding exercise of our own.
From a screenwriting point of view there is no real film here – it’s just a series of disjointed scenes stuck together with absolutely no characterisation, horrible, horrible jokes and no real concept of what they were trying to achieve. It amounts to little more than ‘let’s get lots of big name actors (Clooney, Bill Murray, John Goodman, Jean Dujardin, Matt Damon, Cate Blanchett) and send them off on a jaunt through the Second World War, and then we’ll stick in some bits of drama and emotion and then people will love it and we’ll get another Oscar like last time’, and it is simply terrible. Rather than wasting any time on this, better to get hold of a copy of ‘The Monuments Men: Allied Heroes, Nazi Thieves and the Greatest Treasure Hunt in History’ by Robert Edsel, the book upon which the film is loosely based.
Despite the very, very worthy story being told here, I found it difficult to properly engage with the gritty way in which it is delivered to the audience. The mostly true story of AIDS victim Ron Woodroof who finds he cannot afford the drugs which is believed would keep him alive (he is given approximately four weeks to live) and who ends up in Mexico trying desperately to get a hold of this life extending elixir. Whilst there, fate introduces him to a doctor who explains what he has been told about this miracle drug simply isn’t true, and instead he prescribes him several much simpler and much healthier substances, all of which were legal in the United States although not FDA (Food and Drug Administration) approved. Seeing not only a way to help his own health and that of others, but also a nice way to make a lot of money, he heads back up north to set up the eponymous Dallas Buyers Club.
We bear witness to the legal ramifications of his club and those like it, whilst the pharmaceutical companies still ram their product down the throats of the medical professionals and the lives of many thousands of patients are put into the balance. Some liberties have been taken with the personal story of Woodroof and his personality, there is no mention of his daughter in the film, for example, and two central characters, fellow AIDS sufferer and transsexual Rayon (Jared Leto – pictured above on the left) and romantic interest/doc with a conscience Eve (Jennifer Garner), are entirely fictional. Matthew McConaughey gives a very committed performance as Woodroof, initially a homophobic, drug abusing electrician/rodeo cowboy and general scallywag and both he and Leto are not only up for Academy Awards this season but also lost an unhealthy amount of weight for their roles.
In a way this highlights both the eerie quality of the film and yet some of its strength – when we see these two actors who do very much appear that they are not far from death’s door, there is a part of you that is shocked and forced to consider that reality for people with the disease not just then but now too, despite the improvement in our medical understanding, and yet we are simultaneously aware in the back of our minds that these two people do not have AIDS and have in fact done this to themselves. There is a sickening quality to the deed, and we have to ask – was it necessary? When Dustin Hoffman and Laurence Olivier starred together in ‘Marathon Man’ (76) they were preparing for a scene when Hoffman declared that he was off for a run – responding to the quizzical look from his co-worker he explained that his character had been on a run just before the scene and so he had better go for one too, to which Olivier’s response was ‘There’s a reason they call it acting’. In the scenario of this film he certainly has a point, especially in the age of computers when some weight for the naked torso scenes could probably be digitally removed. Tom Hanks last year attributed his current Diabetes condition to gaining and losing weight for some of his roles in the past and one wonders if that’s true and if so just how much he regrets doing it. McConaughey has gone from strength to strength over recent years and so it’s great to see him nominated at the Oscars and it is deserved (as is Leto’s nod) but, should the industry really be encouraging this kind of thing? How long before someone goes too far and ends up seriously ill or worse, all for the sake of a film role?
I’ve posted the clip below a few times before but it’s worth repeating here due to its relevance and also to show just how much corruptive power drugs companies still wield in today’s world, with not only the medical profession but also large parts of the sports/recreation/therapy industries being driven by chants of ‘Sell, Sell, Sell’.
106 Min 
