Review: Gravity

Danny Leigh, the critic who appears on Film 2013 every week, made an interesting observation about blockbusters when he talked about Gravity last week. He made the point that a lot of the time when you hear a huge amount of hype surrounding a film you usually become cautious, as you sense a PR wave crashing down around you. What he said however, and what I wholeheartedly agree with, is that with Gravity you really do have to believe the hype.

Directed by Alfonso Cuaron and starring Sandra Bullock and George Clooney, Gravity is an audiovisual treat that keeps the viewer entranced from start to finish. It is rare that a film has such a compelling story while at the same time tempting the tastebuds with a CGI all you can eat buffet, but Cuaron achieves this feat. And then some.

We join Dr. Ryan Stone (Bullock) and her astronaut companion Matt Kowalski (Clooney) as they float in the space around their shuttle, fiddling with space-screws and space-hammers (the keen readers amongst you will spot the deficiency in my scientific knowledge here). All of a sudden a freak accident befalls the crew, and their seemingly tranquil floaty lives and plunged into nerve-jangling peril.

The story has many twists and turns and I won’t ruin any of them for you here, but what I will say is that Cuaron exhibits a refreshing willingness to play with his characters and twist them around – one moment there is one clear leader, then next another takes the helm. He perhaps could also be said to have somewhat of a sadistic streak in his behaviours towards his characters – one senses his childhood Action Men were thrown around the living room and garden with reckless abandon as he re-enacted epic battles and horrific catastrophes, both domestic and interstellar.

The actors themselves: well Clooney is fine as usual, he plays the cheeky chappy veteran to a T but then he is a cheeky chappy veteran now. I really would like to see him stretch himself a little in his films, but hey, what do I know. It is Sandra Bullock who steals the show here. From reading around on the web (details too long to include here) it is apparent that she really was uncomfortable when making this film – strapped into spacesuits for long periods of time, with cameras hurtling around her face at 30mph, and this really shines through. She really does give the impression of a helpless young woman trying desperately to save the day, and her range here is impressive. An Academy nomination surely beckons.

I will say that the film is not for kids and not for the fainthearted, but if you are a fan of rollercoasters and tense psychological thrillers then really do not give this film a miss. I personally have not been as glued to my seat during a film for a long time, and the poor mangled claw that my girlfriend used to call a hand can testify to the literally gripping tension that Cuaron paints across the screen. Find this film in 3D and watch it as soon as humanly possible.

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Review: Le Week-End

A bit of Parisian class from me today as I have a petit look at Le Week-End. Directed by Roger Michell (who directed Notting Hill don’t you know) and starring Jim Broadbent (Hot Fuzz), Lindsay Duncan (About Time) and Jeff “life…finds a way” Goldblum, the film follows Nick and Meg Burrows as they celebrate their 30^th wedding anniversary in the French capital.

Once the obligatory shots out the window of the Eurostar and marital exchanges about currency and passports are out of the way, our protagonists arrive in Paris and (after a slight false start) begin to spend both money and time aplenty throwing themselves into everything the city has to offer. With the kids having left home and careers at a crossroads, both have their reasons to express themselves and be free.

After the first twenty minutes of the film there is a certain feeling of “oh, here we go again” about this kind of story, but Michell (and Hanif Kureishi’s brilliant script) at this point bring us off the beaten path and onto an altogether rockier trail. As keen walkers will attest though, it is the paths that are hardest to traverse that reward us with the best views and the best stories to tell afterwards.

By delving deeper into their characters’ motivations, histories and values Michell and Kureishi manage to conjure up something altogether more whole. Their understanding that a relationship is both the sum of two parts and yet is simultaneously greater than that lets the viewer share both the depths the characters plunge to and the heights they soar to as we share in their story. Admittedly some of the exchanges have a slight dearth in originality, but then the point of a film like this is that these are real people who do bicker and quarrel with each other over little things like toothbrushes and choosing restaurants.

Broadbent and Duncan are superb in the main roles, giving us the full range in two perfectly proportioned performances. Broadbent’s usual bumbling old fool bit has an added bite to it that is pleasing to see, while Duncan impresses yet again as a domineering yet caring matriarch. Typecasting does exist for a reason you know – one would hazard a guess that the script was written with these two in mind. And Jeff Goldblum, well I mean, what is there to say that hasn’t already been said about this unstoppable behemoth of a man. In a role that consign mere mortal actors to be forgotten, Goldblum steals scenes at will, showing once again that he could well be the actor of his generation.

I would certainly recommend Le Week-End then to viewers of any generation – as my companion put it to me afterwards it was strangely easy to relate to despite not even being married. Not the easiest film to watch, but if you want easy then go and watch Pingu.

Until next time.

Review: Rush

So, Rush. And if I were restricted to a line for this one, I’d make a corny joke about how it doesn’t half give you a rush too. Luckily I’m not, because that’s a silly joke. Regardless this is a fine film!

Directed by Ron Howard (Apollo 13, A Beautiful Mind) and starring Chris Hemsworth (Thor) and Daniel Bruhl (Inglourious Basterds), Rush is the story of how the bitter Formula 1 rivalry between James Hunt and Niki Lauda played out in the 1970s (played by Hemsworth and Bruhl respectively). Starting from both of their early racing days, the story tracks their respective rises to the big stage of Formula 1, and paints the picture of two men moving parallel to each other and yet in completely different ways.

A quick motor racing history lesson. Hunt was the playboy – never without a girl (or three) on his arm (or in his bed) and never without a drink in his hand. He drove in the same way – he was a risk taker, gambling at each corner with his life and the lives of others. And Lauda resented him for this. The pragmatic Austrian was a man of science and numbers, he knew how to eke every last percentile of performance from his car. He also lived his life accordingly – no parties, a simple quiet relationship with his wife, no fuss at all.

It would be fair to describe Ron Howard as a historian with the mind of a showman. The man is a genius with biopics such as this, and yes he has been accused in the past of slightly ratcheting up the tension in certain situations (notably Apollo 13), but in Rush he was very true to the events as they unfolded. The beauty of the story is that he didn’t need to add any Hollywood razzle-dazzle to it – they truly were risking their lives on a weekly basis, and explosions and crashes were par for the course. Through clever camera work Howard shows us what the drivers would be seeing as they approached corners at 150mph, and I for one jumped out of my seat more than once as multiple flaming chassis spun out of control.

Hemsworth is a good Hunt. He has the cheeky smiles and flirtacious winks in his locker for that side of the character, but for me he lacked a little depth. Perhaps more torment as his marriage broke down could have been portrayed – Hunt the man cared a lot for the people around him and the people he raced with. Bruhl however delivers a pitch perfect performance as the measured Lauda – he masters the full range, and manages to do that most difficult thing of acting in a measured and quiet way while still acting. Sometimes it is more difficult to say nothing on screen.

Not one for the faint hearted I must add, but a very fine film indeed. And for Formula 1 fans like me, well, it was a bit of a geekfest!

Review: Blue Jasmine

Woody Allen returns home from his European tour with Blue Jasmine, an American story of one woman’s struggle to cope with the devastating after-effect of the collapse of her marriage and the discovery of her now deceased husband’s fraudulent activities. Played by Cate Blanchett, New York social butterfly Jasmine dumps herself on her sister’s doorstep in San Francisco and prepares to start her new life afresh. Easier said than done.

This is a very anxiety provoking film, but I think this is necessary to explore the entire range of Jasmine’s emotions as she comes to the realisation that life is not easy and happiness cannot be bought. We are constantly worrying and fretting – even when she herself is not worrying on screen during the frequent flashbacks, we see her in her former life and almost cry out to stop her from making those errors in judgement. Allen perfectly builds this tension, both within the character and the audience, without ever letting it boil over into raw screaming anger.

Blanchett herself is unerringly good in this film. The script, as always beautifully written by Allen, gives her the full range to work with – from chatting and tittering at social functions in New York to screaming and sweating in downtown San Francisco. As she went from one nervous breakdown to another you almost wanted to reach out and wipe her brow for her as she manically ranted away. This is perhaps one of the best-performed examples of an anxiety disorder I have seen in a film – Blanchett constantly makes us feel the character is on the edge and could go either way at any moment.

One of the lovely things that Woody Allen does is allow his actors to act by his use of the camera. He goes for extremely long single takes, sometimes even allowing characters to walk off and walk onto screen as they carry on talking. By using these long camera shots he allows the actors to explore every sentence and idea and lets them flow through each other – at times it almost felt like Blue Jasmine would be suited to being performed as a play.

A minor point against for me is Allen’s music in this film. It may just be me but the old saxophones in the background do tend to grind a little after a while – I perhaps would want something a bit more contemporary, for example as we explore downtown San Francisco with Jasmine and her sister.

Alec Baldwin plays the unlikeable Hal very well, Sally Hawkins is superb as the sister Ginger and Louie CK, one of my favourite comedians, has a brilliant role as a potential love interest. Blanchett steals every scene she enters though. She then steals it again, from herself, just because she can.

This is not the easiest film in the world to watch, however I do recommend you watch it. Woody Allen has impressed yet again.

Review: Metro Manila

You may not have heard of Metro Manila - I went to the Little in Bath which shows 'under the radar' films such as this. I say under the radar - it did recently win an Audience Award for World Cinema at the Sundance Film Festival, so it has been recognised within the industry, and I could definitely see why it has been awarded this accolade.

Directed and written by Sean Ellis, an Oscar nominee himself, and starring Jake Macapagal, Althea Vega, and John Arcilla, Metro Manila is the story (given in native Filipino and subtitled) of Oscar and Mai Ramirez (played by Macapagal and Vega respectively) and their two daughters. They are farmers who can no longer afford to work in the paddy fields of the Philippines and so decide to up sticks and move to Manila in search of work.

Having never been myself I cannot really judge whether or not the representation of it is right or wrong, however Ellis' view is stereotypically bustling and portrayed as a hectic and confusing buzz. The hazy sweeping views of Manila at dusk with car headlights and brakelights are clichéd but do add to the rich texture of the imagery. While we are on the subject of cinematography I personally would like some of the close ups to be a little less tight (so a wider angle with the face taking up less of the screen) but hey, I'm kooky like that.

The main criticism I would have is that the story is slightly predictable. When the twist comes and a certain character shows their true colours, it is more a confirmation of what we suspected than a sudden upheaval of everything we once knew. So the story itself is nothing special. The way that story is told though is well crafted. We see from the point of view of Oscar (and to a lesser extent Mai - perhaps her story could have been better developed) this new world that has been thrust upon them all and we see how they try to cope with it.

Macapagal gives a very strong performance in the lead, portraying the honest soul of Oscar. He shows us the sense of desperation that his character holds for his family's wellbeing, yet also portrays well the character's sense of right and wrong. For me Vega's Mai is a bit bland, a bit vanilla rather than Manila (come on, you knew I was going to make some kind of pun with that) and I'd like to see her more passionate about their situation. John Arcilla is brilliant as Oscar's best friend and colleague Ong, becoming the central pillar around which the film is built.

So, a good film overall! Not spectacular, but a compelling story and a few cloudy eyed moments. Seek it out if you can - you may need to try local independent cinemas in your area, but hey, that's no bad thing now is it! Until next time.

For Anyone That Lives In Bath

If you live in this wonderful town, I urge you to join the Little Theatre Cinema. Student membership is £10 for a whole year, and for that you will get two free tickets and then reduced prices all year round, as well as 10% off food and drink. Standard general public membership is £32, but you will get three free tickets.

It's also a really lovely little cinema with kind of art deco furnishings and lighting, just a lovely place to sit. They put on quite artsy films which wouldn't make it to the Odeon down the road so again, worth the money IMHO!

Review: The Master

A little bit of film trivia for you to begin. In the 'good old days' (a phrase usually used by my parents to indicate a time before I was born) films were recorded on 35mm film stock. The film looked like you get in old cameras, and 35mm was the width of it. As light (i.e. an image) hit the film, it stained it in a certain way and that's the image you got when you projected light through it again. This then was how film was originally made - film recorders and projectors.

Then the digital age came. And newbie filmmakers saw that it was good. What's the point of investing hundreds of pounds in expensive filming and projection equipment when you can buy a £150 camcorder from any high street? And the industry, being an industry, followed suit. Suddenly, everything was filmed and projected in digital. It was cheaper and easier, at both ends of the process. This is how most films were made.

Paul Thomas Anderson is not most filmmakers.

The five-time Oscar nominee decided when making 2012's The Master that he would go back to the old ways and use film. Not just mucky old 35mm though. No no - that's what everybody else would do! He decided to use a very rare 70mm film stock. The wider aperture of the camera (the lens will mirror the size of the film) means the quality of the image is richer and altogether deeper.

Unfortunately not all cinemas are equipped to project this type of film, so most people saw The Master projected in a digital form converted from the film - the same type you will get if you buy the DVD or Blu-Ray. Fortunately for me working in London last year, Leicester Square Odeon had a limited run of 70mm projections of the movie. And honestly, it was one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen. The quality of image, and in particular light, is rich and unprecedented in film in my opinion. At times I genuinely thought I was watching a play - it was that realistically.

Anyway, onto the film itself. Joaquin Phoenix, the enigma himself, plays a Freddie Quell - a boozing ex-Naval officer who can't seem to work out what to do with his life. He stumbles upon to the boat of Lancaster Dodd, AKA The Master, played by Philip Seymour Hoffman, and ends up following him round the world as he preaches his seemingly phoney and made up religion to anyone who will listen. Since I do want to work in the film industry quite a lot, I will be as careful with the S word as PTA was. But... Yeah. Pretty much. Bar the aliens and the placenta eating. With me? Let's continue...

Phoenix is unnervingly brilliant in this film, as he is in most. His attention to detail with characters is remarkable. The little things, like how he puts his hands on his hips or how he squints, make him just become Quell. He brilliantly portrays a tortured soul, a damaged man who wants to love and be loved but seems incapable of either without frequent implosion.

Hoffman is masterful (sorry) as Dodd. His presence within the role is looming, and he and Phoenix take turns in stealing scenes from each other, sometimes line for line. He manages to switch from lecturing and posturing to sheer bloody anger in the space of a second, perfectly portraying the fear Dodd has of being uncovered as a phoney.

The story itself isn't the richest, but this is one of those rare films where that doesn't really matter. There isn't really any character development, and everyone really seems to be back where they started by the end, but the quality of the interactions between the characters and the beautiful images (the opening shot of the wake of a boat in particular for me) is what stays with you.

This is a fine, fine film, and for what it's worth I think it should have taken home Oscars over Argo. But hey, it's not a film about Hollywood saving the day is it.

Oh damn there I go again. Please forgive me LA.

Anyway: watch this film. Until next time!

A really quick thought

Are internet GIFs the reincarnation of silent physical comedy like Chaplin...?

By the way, in your head did you pronounce it jiff or giff?

Bet you're really doubting yourself now.

Review: We're The Millers

This film is pants. It really really is. I won't use the phrase "this is what is wrong with the entire industry today" because it tars some very good films with the same brush. Don't get me wrong, I like a good summer blockbuster. Emphasis on the 'good'. What I don't like is a film spending it's entire budget on two actors and then going "Look! Look! LOOK! LOOK WHO'S IN OUR FILM!! ISN'T IT GREAT??" Jason Sudeikis is a good comedy actor. Jennifer Aniston is a very good comedy female actor. In this they are both dire, but the fault is not their own.

The script itself is unerringly childish and overly simplified. There are painfully obvious gags and oh, wait, hang on, Jennifer Aniston plays a stripper?! She will have to take her clothes off then, most likely in order to somehow escape the bad guys? Ding ding, ring the cliché alarm. Germaine Greer, continue to look away now.

The movie also does the rare thing of making the viewer actually hope that the main characters fail. At no stage do you feel any sympathy for the Millers or actually want them to succeed in their weird drug smuggling mission. You just want the authorities to seize the contraband and for the movie to end after half an hour.

I will say something for this movie - I actually think Will Poulter's performance as the babyfaced kid led astray is pretty good. Personally this is the first thing I've seen him in since Son of Rambow and I think the switch to an American sounding Will works. He plays this character down the middle and while not overdoing it, does solicit a few genuine laughs along the way. I look forward to seeing his career continue and flourish, hopefully on both sides of the pond.

In conclusion, I won't say don't go and see this film, because I think there probably is a place for it for those with painfully low expectations in life (perhaps this is why my girlfriend came with me). But I would urge you wholeheartedly to see something else instead. Incidentally, THAT scene with Jennifer Aniston isn't even that great. And if you're going to the cinema just to see naked ladies then shame on you. That's what the internet is for.

Any excuse to put a link to this song...

Review: Silver Linings Playbook

As I may or may not have said before (I’ve been on holiday so last wrote a time ago) I will write about new and old films here, pretty much as I watch them and feel like writing about them. I saw Despicable Me 2 the other day by the way – it’s pretty okay, I laughed out loud maybe twice, not as good as the original but hey it was fun. That’s that! This is this: Silver Linings Playbook.

This film is a masterpiece. You know, scrap that. It’s not a masterpiece, because masterpiece makes it sound like the roof of the Sistine Chapel, like a beautiful representation of something beautiful and rare and wholesome. It’s a beautiful representation of something miserable, common, and under-appreciated by society. This film almost perfectly shows the struggle of completely normal people coming to terms with mental issues, love, loss, family - the works. It is the best use of 122 minutes of my or anyone’s time if they want to have a window into mental illness and how it can affect human beings on a micro and macro level.

Okay aaaaand breathe… I’m gushing. Let’s break it down! Main character: Pat, played by Bradley Cooper. This guy is brilliant. Let’s be honest, when he was doing the Hangover films and the A-Team, we all thought, “yeah okay he’s a funny guy, he can act, he looks great, but he’s never going to be a silver screen legend.” Well, boy has he turned that around! Limitless, SLP and The Place Beyond the Pines are all completely different yet captivating roles from the guy. The fact that he talks about his friendship with Robert di Niro (also outstanding in this film) tells you that Bobby believes in Cooper. In SLP the range demanded of Cooper is huge – he has to go from low down in the darkest hole of his life, up to the final (and inevitable) denouement (we’ll come back to this later). Yet he never strains too high and oversteps the mark, or goes too low and ends up not acting at all. He is clearly well prepared and researched, and boy does it show.

Jennifer Lawrence – ditto. I mean wow, what a star she is! If she can keep herself as clearly down to earth as she is (we’ve all seen the Youtube clips!) then she is a multiple Oscar winner waiting to happen. In SLP she keeps us guessing – we think we know Tiffany, how she ticks, but she always keeps a sense of mystery to the role. Will she suddenly storm off for no reason? Is she still the slut she says she used to be? Her lecture about the Eagles’ results to di Niro’s character Pat Senior, while it owes a lot to the brilliant writing, is perfectly measured in tone and pace. She is a natural actress who clearly understood this character.

The writing itself – sublime. I must confess I haven’t read David Quick’s original book, so I don’t know how much to attribute to him and how much to screenplay adaptor/director David O. Russell, but there is an understanding of mental illness, family, love, and the myriad of interactions between them that almost beggars belief. SLP is so watchable that I actually only realised I had my laptop set to the tiny letterbox setting as the film ended. The tone and tempo of dialogue is beautiful in the way it ebbs and flows – there is a superb appreciation of the quick changes of emotions that all characters go through in this story.

Yes the ending is classic Hollywood, but I cared so much about all of these characters by the end that I just didn’t mind. This is a brilliant film. Please watch it right now if you haven’t already.

Review: Behind the Candelabra

Well here I am, twenty minutes after and I’m sitting down and writing about Behind the Candelabra by Steven Soderbergh. If you don’t know, it’s about the relationship between the world famous Liberace and Scott Thorson, a young man taken into Liberace’s ‘care’. The film follows their tumultuous relationship from tentative beginning to fiery denouement, stopping off for cat fights and jewellery shopping along the way. If there’s one takeaway message from this film, it’s this: believe the hearsay!

First let’s talk about the director. Well, it’s a Soderbergh film about Liberace – it was always going to come down on the side of the Ocean’s films and Magic Mike than Traffic or Erin Brockovich. That is by no means a judgement about content or quality, simply style. And this film has a lot of that. The film razzles here and dazzles there, and yet in an odd way it is never too much, never too overpowering. Yes you are struck by the outlandish jewellery and the custom cars, but the film and the viewer reside in the world of Liberace at this point – everything seems to have its place and to have a logical explanation.

Soderbergh paints a picture with a million colours, yet not all of them are shades of gold and silver. The comic shock of Scott seeing Liberace for the first time without his wig on is tempered with the vulnerability you feel within the character in that moment – this is the first time that his new companion has seen what really lies beneath the veneers and polishes. This moment really sets the tone for the rest of the film.

After this we are essentially given two films – one in which Liberace still outwardly shines and wows crowds around the world, and another darker piece in which he lives out a series of ever increasing episodes of paranoia by lashing out against Scott and eventually completing the cycle by rejecting him altogether. Perhaps too this is Soderbergh’s comment about celebrity itself. We know that this and Side Effects are his last projects as a director, and he has said that he hates the way modern directors are treated by the money men of film. In one scene Liberace’s manager calls him at home, despite being told not to do so, and begs him to appear in shows around Christmas as it will bring in more money - perhaps through Liberace he is expressing his anger at the expectations of the management teams and executives around these stars.

In terms of the acting talent on show, firstly it must be said that Michael Douglas is brilliant in the headline role. You can see why Soderbergh waited for his recovery from illness to make the film – he is pitch perfect whether he is tinkling the ivories, telling a cheesy joke to a Vegas audience or having a hissy fit in Liberace’s custom hot tub. Although the voice does begin to grate by the end of the film, it is again spot on. For me this is the type of role Douglas is suited to – he does the outrageous so well (see his quotes about cunnilingus and his recent interview on Graham Norton) that when he plays the suited politician, although he does this very well, you feel there is just so much more he has to give. I do hope his illness stays away and he can give us more performances like this.

Matt Damon is, well, fine! I certainly at every point understood everything he was trying to tell me, through his facial expressions and actions, but… there is always just something about him missing for me. Don’t get me wrong I think he is a good actor, but particularly in a film like this, where he is put next to someone making such a show-stopping performance as Douglas does here, I think he gets shown up. Unfortunately he is not Magic Matt! Don’t ask me what it is about him though; I just can’t quite put my finger on it. Maybe his voice? Who knows. I think he shows promise, but again he’s too easily shown up.

A quick roundup of the others – Scott Bakula plays a good best friend/mentor type role; Debbie Reynolds is a loveable mother Liberace; and Dan Aykroyd plays it beautifully down the middle to play Seymour, Liberace’s brother. The scene-stealer however is Rob Lowe, who plays a quite brilliant doctor/plastic surgeon/general apothecary who cannot move his own face. He is a one-man illustration of the perils of cosmetic surgery.

So that’s my tuppence worth on Behind the Candelabra. I don’t do ratings I’m afraid - wouldn’t want you to go and see anything with too much of a preconception from me (although I’d be flattered if you did!) but I do definitely recommend going to see this one. That’s all from me! Remember to keep supporting film in whatever way you can.

Introduction

Okay so, here we are! The first of (hopefully) many film blogs and musings from me. A few bits and bobs straight off the bat. My name is Will, I'm 22 and a half, and I'm from Kent (or if you're from America, I'm from London). If you know me you already know that though. Hopefully. Otherwise we're probably not that good friends. Although I suppose that makes it more of a compliment that you're reading this. So, cheers!

Anyway. I digress. (Sorry that might happen a lot).

Basically I have a real interest in films and film production, and just want to share some things I think really. I can't make any promises as to content at the moment, but I know for sure there will be some reviews and general thoughts in due course.

The title of the blog. Well, I'm a big believer in the idea that films make people talk to each other and share their views. Being able to sit and have a frank discussion with your fellow cinema-goers about what you've just seen is, for me, the essence of cinema. Hence The Twenty Minutes After. In my mind this is the most important time in any film - the moments immediately following the end, as the credits roll. I don't necessarily think people should be restricted to 20 minutes, but it's a catchy title so I'm sticking to it.

The beauty of this is that in truly great films I don't think people have the same experiences as each other. I think different people take different things from everything they see, and this is the point - as a social lubricant, film is like nothing else.

(Please do excuse me interchanging the words film and cinema willy nilly here - for me they are equivalents. Just my opinion though!)

So this is basically a long-winded way of me saying please don't judge me for my opinions, and I in turn will try not to judge you for yours. Unless of course you say that the greatest actor to have ever lived is Steven Seagal.