Saturday, 31 December 2016

Rogue One: A Star Wars Story



SPOILERS THROUGHOUT

Disney brought the Star Wars property for an ungodly sum from series creator George Lucas in 2012 with the promise of a new trilogy of films closer in tone to the beloved original trilogy and not the much-despised Prequel series. Rumours also swelled of spin-off films, perhaps in an attempt to replicate the success of Disney's Marvel Cinematic Universe, to fill the gap between the main episodes of the series. Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens was, without a doubt, one of the biggest pop culture events of the last 10 years. The film has issues but the overall effort and affection for the series shines through, which made an accessible film for new-comers, whilst giving fans what lacked in the prequel trilogy. One year down the line, Rogue One, the first of the spin-off films, has arrived. Can it match the heart and emotion of The Force Awakens and the original films or does it strike out on its own to make a new kind of Star Wars film? The answer, as always, is complicated.  

Rogue One is set days before Episode IV. Luke is trapped on Tatooine, unaware of his impending future destiny. Han Solo is causing trouble somewhere. Princess Leia is bravely leading the Rebellion against the evil Empire. Jar-Jar is in a ditch somewhere. And the Rebels have learnt of the Empire's plans to create a new battle-station, with the power to destroy planets, named the Death Star. The Rebels have received contact from the disillusioned creator of the Death Star, who reveals that the Empire are holding plans that reveal its only weakness. Having been whisked from her father at a young age, criminal Jyn Erso is brought in by the Rebels to make track down the Death Star's creator - their connection? They are father and daughter. Jyn and a band of not-so merry rebels must team up to track down her father and reveal the location of the plans, giving our heroes the only hope of destroying the super-weapon. 


Rogue One has been famously dogged by rewrites and reshoots. According to the rumours, Disney wanted a film closer in tone to The Force Awakens (which stands as the third highest grossing films of all time) - i.e. lighter, fun, charming - which seemed to clash with the original intention of these side films; to offer a different light on the Star Wars universe. The issue here is that clearly these two different tones and visions clash with each other in the finished product. While Rogue One has plenty to offer long-term fans of the series, as a film it suffers from a confused tone and under-written characters, which won't make many new converts to the franchise.

The best elements of Rogue One are the re-creations of the retro 70s vision of the space life. The art design of the film is spot on, from the re-creations of the costumes, the lighting, the sets and even the hairstyles (I've not seen this many must aches in a sci-fi film for a long time) which gives it a familiar yet different tone. The film is at its best when it combines these familiar elements to create something new (akin to The Force Awakens) - the final 40 minutes offer a documentary-style ground combat linked with an exciting heist of the Death Star plans, which is unlike anything Star Wars has ever produced. It might be one of the series' best staged action scenes (the only thing it lacks is emotional weight but I'll get to that). Seeing AT-ATs again, returning from The Empire Strikes Back, ripping through the jungle planet and causing mayhem is a sight to behold on a pure fan level. The exciting final ten minutes which link it directly back to the opening of Episode IV is fun and unexpected (and features one of cinema's greatest Big Bads making an unforgettable entrance). In general, the action scenes are well handled, as we are introduced to a plethora of new planets and locations. 


Technically, everything is shot perfectly and has an excellent art design but what holds Rogue One back is the script. Jyn is not given sufficient personality outside of the life-defining events that occurs in her childhood. There are hints of a troubled past, with Jyn going off the rails but they aren't given time to be fully explored. On paper, the side-characters sound like fascinating new additions to the Star Wars universe. A disillusioned gorilla fighter who rejects the ideals of the Rebels but still wants to combat the Empire. An Empire general struggling with the bureaucracy of building a super-weapon. A normal Rebel solider who blindly follows the orders of his superiors. An Empire defector (who is too similar to Finn from Episode VII, just lacking John Boyega's natural charm). These add a new dimension to the universe, in particular revealing new elements to the previously good-as-gold Rebellion. But add to this an appearance from Darth Vader, a surprisingly prominent role the creepy CGI recreation of Peter Cushing, more Rebel internal conflicts, a sassy, pissed-off robot (K-2SO, played by Alan Tudyk, is probably the character highlight of the film), a large scale space battle and you can probably see that the film is overloaded with elements. 


I honestly wish another attempt could have been made at the script or the edit to prop up Jyn and the members of Rogue One, flesh them out and produce a tighter story with an emphasis on the more gorilla-documentary style that the final 40 minutes revels in. Whether this was in the original edit or not, we'll likely never know but the victims of the unfocused narrative are Forrest Whitaker's Saw Gerrera (who I'm told will be expanded upon in Rebels - but cross-media narratives are for another day...) and the side-characters of the Rogue One team. Donnie Yen in particular has the makings of a fascinating character, a blind warrior who believes in the Force but the script focus doesn't give him chance to shine. While no where near as hollow as Suicide Squad, I was reminded of the scene in which the pyro-villian claimed the team were his "family" with no narrative thrust or character development to suggest this. Spoilers but as the characters are picked off one-by-one in in the final 40 minutes of Rogue One it is hard to feel emotional (with the exception of K-2SO). A potentially powerfully moment, which I do commend Disney for committing to; it is well executed and beautifully shot but is under-cut by the under-written characters.


The problem is, that certainly for the cinematic stories, Star Wars is fairly limiting in what you can do. Audiences like the Skywalkers, Darth Vader, the family drama etc, the space battles, Jedi, the Force etc. and I don't think a big studio like Disney would try to work outside of this stable of familiar staples. In television, games and novels you can expand as much as you want - these are designed for the hardcore fan base who legitimately want to see new sides of the universe. Video games such as Knights of the Old Republic or TV's The Clone Wars and Star Wars: Rebels offer exciting new characters and fresh stories to tell for the fanbase, that don't try to appeal to a mainstream audience. One of the biggest losses to Star Wars being brought by Disney was the retconning of 20 years worth of Expanded Universe stories. In the cinema, I just don't think we are going to see this kind of diversity (for example, the rumoured spin-off films are: a young Han Solo film, a Boba Fett film, an Obi-Wan film). Rogue One falls into this uncomfortable zone of fan-service, audience pandering and over-saturation. 


Rogue One can comfortably sit as the fifth best Star Wars film but it feels like a missed opportunity. The only way this film plays successfully is to fans of the series. Think of the film as a stand-alone sci-fi film. The elements that prop it up only succeed due to the elements that links it to the previous films. Unlike in The Force Awakens, where the new elements were given time to develop, Rogue One suffers from overload. I would prop it up due to its art-design and well-executed final 40 minutes but its just a bit of a messy slog to get there. A great, tight war film is in there but the aspects don't come together to form a satisfying whole - it's a weird day when a Star Wars film is just ok (and it pains me to give it the score I did). 

Rating: 6/10 

Side-Note: RIP Carrie Fisher and Debbie Reynolds. Carrie Fisher was such a prominent figure in my childhood as Princess Leia - a female character who was as active as the males. A real individual who overcame drug addiction and mental health issues to become a strong and witty voice. And Debbie Reynolds, one of the last of the Hollywood royalty, a golden star from a different era of the movies. Two really tragic losses. 

Moana



Moana has a tough act to follow. Disney has embarked on a Second Renaissance (in reference to a period of time in the late 1980s/early 90s in which studio found its footing again, producing hit after hit) to become culturally relevant again. By combining what made its classics great in the first place with a 21st century sensibility (borderline feminist), Disney has produced a plethora of modern (and varied) classics; Tangled, Wreck-It Ralph, Big Hero 6, Zootopia and the pop culture behemoth, Frozen. I mention Frozen as Moana is Disney’s follow up in the ‘Princess’ sub-series. Bringing back Ron Clements and John Musker seems like a wise move. This pair directed a number of classic Disney films including the film credited with starting the original Disney Renaissance, The Little Mermaid, though ignoring the box office receipts, I would argue it can be traced back further. Is bringing back the tried-and-tested duo a smart idea?

Moana follows the titular character on a coming of age story. Drawn between the duty of being chief of her Polynesian tribe and the lure of adventure on the ocean, Moana is stuck between two worlds. A creeping darkness begins to infect her beloved island as she learns that an ancient demi-god named Maui stole a precious artefact from an ocean goddess that was seeming lost to the sea. The artefact washes up on Moana’s island which compels her to track down the disgraced Demi-god and return both him (with expected difficulty) and the artefact, a stone heart, to the goddess as per her tribe’s ancient prophecy to save her island and the wider ocean.


So far, so Disney. Does Moana do enough to separate itself from the standard Disney formula? Kind of. The character of Moana herself is great. Strong, quirky and determined with a chubbier body type, which makes her stand out from the standard Disney protagonist, she is brought to life through incredible animation and a great vocal performance by Auli’i Cravalho. Disney has been on a winning formula with its modern ‘princesses’ and Moana can safely join this varied pantheon. The Demi-god Maui is also fun, played by Dwayne Johnson, starting out as an arrogant and emotionally unstable shape-shifter (though only with the help of his magical fish hook) before learning important life lessons. He plays out almost like Disney’s Hercules (another Clements/Musker ‘creation’) only with a clearer personality and stronger motive. We spend a good chunk of time with these two characters, mostly isolated to their boat, where we learn of their wants and needs. Better yet, their relationship does not bloom into romance. There is clear affection between them but for a Disney film not to have their female and male leads get together at the end is a pretty bold move for a studio that pounded heteronormative lifestyles into the brains of children for generations. Their relationship really helps to make the film. I respect the move of Disney to set the vast majority on a boat isolated in the middle of the sea. This allows for funny, tender and exciting moments. Moana has plenty of great and colourful set-pieces to put our characters through the wringer, such as magical coconut pirates and a gigantic crab, who is armed with a musical number. 

Aesthetically, Moana is impeccable. Disney continues to push the bar on what is achievable in 3D animation and this is probably one of the best looking animated film I have seen in this art style. The graceful characters movements, the amazing water effects and the lush vibrant colours literally leap off the screen. There are lovely little touches, such as Maui’s magical moving tattoo’s, brought to life in 2D animation and the excellent gormless expression on Alan Tudyk’s mentally impaired rooster (Tudyk’s easiest Disney pay cheque yet). In an age where we complain about digital blur, it’s nice to see that Disney do genuinely care about using the technology to its advantage. Add to this a great sound design and soundtrack, you are presented with a quality product. I wish the same time and effort could have been extended to the songs. I feel this is an area Disney should be working to improve on in order to maintain their Second Renaissance. Often, they have one or two killer song (see also Tangled and The Princess and The Frog) and the rest are fairly forgettable. The exception is Frozen of course. Moana unfortunately does suffer from a lack of that really killer song. The centrepiece, How Far I’ll Go, is beautiful and powerful and is by far the film’s best but it lacks that extra umph to make a lasting impression. While it probably is unfair to compare, it lacks that narrative-changing turn that Let It Go had (screw the haters, it's a great song). It's great at expressing Moana’s emotions but it didn’t leave me humming after leaving the theatre. 


I think what Moana lacks is a really great third act. Often with Clements/Musker films, the set-up is better than the pay off (see The Little Mermaid, Hercules, The Princess and The Frog and Treasure Planet). The best of the modern classics turned their plots around on themselves. Frozen became a parable about sisterhood. Big Hero 6 becomes a document on dealing with grief. Zootopia becomes a fable about racism. Moana does do some interesting things with a feminist turn on prophecy, an often despised element of writing, particularly in film (that said, it is perfectly explored on TV’s Buffy The Vampire Slayer). Through some misunderstandings (spoilers), it is Moana who delivers the stone back to the ocean goddess and not Maui, breaking centuries old tradition of passing this story down. Moana is ultimately about females helping each other following the damage caused by a male. Make of that what you will and I don't think Disney put this at the forefront of the film. See with films I mentioned earlier, they quite bravely mix these quite mature themes and ideas into the forefront of the plot. Baymax is Hiro’s coping mechanism for losing his brother. Elsa and Anna learn the power of true love through breaking the kingdom’s frozen curse. Judy and Nick inadvertently learn about the destructive power of prejudice through solving a mystery. I would argue Moana doesn't directly tackle the issues but rather hints at, which leaves something of an emotional hole. Rather, it is much more to do with Moana’s arc of breaking tradition – which is great, don't get me wrong but it just leaves a pretty thinly spread story that could have done with a couple more rewrites to emphasise certain elements and produce a stronger third act twist. 

However, what Disney is doing with Moana is commendable. Despite my issues with the script, the characters, animation and art design are second to non. While it doesn't take its concept to the nth degree like some of the previous modern Disney films, it does give an excellent new protagonist for audiences of children to relate to. I would give one point less if these elements weren't as strong as they are.  I almost wish there was a better film for Moana and Maui to star in. Moana isn't quite gold standard Disney but it is still absolutely worth seeing, if only to continue to support the studio’s recent golden streak. Gone are the days of passive Cinderella and Aurora. Long live Moana. 


Rating: 8/10


Friday, 16 December 2016

Fantastic Beasts And Where To Find Them


SPOILERS THROUGHOUT

In a year where Warner Bros. limped out of the gate with their mega-franchise (DC comics), the studio has turned to their other mega-franchise to win them a sure-fire hit. While the Harry Potter films have their fair share of flaws (which this writer won't get into here..) they hold a very special place in people's hearts, in particular for 20-something-year-olds - Generation 1 fans who literally grew up with the characters on page or on screen. J.K. Rowling has returned to this world in a new time period and location (1920s New York) with a new cast of characters. Rowling has expanded a slim volume released for Comic Relief into a full-on franchise starter. Does Fantastic Beasts come close to matching the heart of the Harry Potter stories?

Newt Scamander has reached the end of an excursion around the world, finding and documenting magical beasts. Endangered ones he keeps and looks after in his TARDIS-esque briefcase. Arriving in New York for a brief stopover, with the intention of freeing a hippogriff into the wilds, his briefcase accidentally falls into the hands of Jacob, a No-Maj (American slang for Muggle), who inadvertently releases some of the creatures into the city, which could spell trouble for the magical and non-magical worlds. Jacob gets pulled into the hidden magical world of New York as he and Newt begin the search for and return all the loose creatures. This is against the darker backdrop of an anti-witch movement known as the Second Salems, who are harbouring a dark secret..


The film's biggest issue is that the background and world building are more interesting than the main story - Newt and Jacob teaming up to find and collect the magical creatures is passable enough but it is fairly surface level. Ultimately, what is happening with the Second Salem movement and the rise of dark wizard Grindelwald is more compelling. Since the Pokemon-esque main plot is the prime-attention of the film, the more interesting elements aren't given enough time to breath and as such aren't explored fully. While I don't think a children's film needs to have children for the prime audience to relate to (kids seem to react to Star Wars and Marvel films well enough) the lack of a charismatic lead really does hurt the film. I'm just going to say it - I couldn't stand Eddie Redmayne in the lead. On paper, I love the idea of a socially-awkward nerd saving the day through his brain as opposed to brawn, but there's just this irritating quirkiness to the role (in the same way Matt Smith annoyed me as The Doctor) that Redmayne just seems to inflate. Quirk is fine - but there is nothing more annoying than forced quirk. It is a bizarre performance. Newt just isn't a compelling character and the writer is either withholding information on him for later films to doesn't quite know how to handle him. Newt doesn't really have an arc, so to speak and I think this hurts the film. To be honest, I wish the film was told from Jacob's perspective because he's a much more compelling, and funny, character. His motivations are clear, his reactions to the wizarding world are great and the actor just seems to be having a blast as the hapless dope falling into a story much larger than his own. And it would be a clever inversion of the Harry Potter role - a non-magical character as the lead. Redmayne then might have been more tolerable then as the strange 'sidekick' (a Jack Sparrow role if you will, circa Pirates 1). 

Newt and Jacob are joined by sisters Tina and Queenie Goldstein, the former a down-to-earth no nonsense member of the Magical Congress of the United States of America, or MACUSA, and the latter a free-spirited mind reader. Rowling's works are famously laced with feminist undertones. One only needs to look at Hermione, an icon for geek girls and boys the world over, to understand Rowling's views on how female characters should be represented. Simple. Just write a good character.  The fact that Rowling has put two female leads in a cast of four speaks volumes and I'm glad there is equal representation. However, my biggest gripe is that, like Newt, they are not terribly compelling characters. Which is a massive shame because Rowling gets it, especially after creating a character as wonderful as Hermione (and the other varied and fascinating women of the Harry Potter world). They end up feeling more of a statistic as opposed to living, breathing characters. Tina and Queenie are given sufficient motivation enough, and the actors are clearing trying to infuse them with something, but, like Newt, they never really come to life. Maybe given time, they will develop these characters more (Tina has some hints at a traumatic past but presumably this will be expanded in later films) but as it stands we've seen these arcs before. Ultimately, this new group never feels comfortable together and doesn't cohere the way you want them to. I really don't want to keep making Harry Potter comparisons but since this is part of Rowling's Wizarding World (and has probably been expanded into five films to make this into a full on prequel series) it seems fair - just look at the way the three of them bonded together into a team by the end of Philosopher's Stone. Funnily enough, on a side-note, the film doesn't make too many call backs its parent franchise (I guess the time period makes it impossible) - Dumbeldore is mentioned once and one line got a smile from me; Newt proudly saying "I think you'll find that Hogwarts is the best wizarding school in the world".


So far, I have come down pretty hard on the film but I should say I actually ultimately ended up enjoying it quite a bit. While I think the scenes with the beasts go on too long, the designs are all unique, different and creative. I especially like the jewellery-thief mole. The period details are great and the imagination involved in not only recreating this era of New York but designing a secret magical world underneath is inspired. However, I was desperate to get back to the B-Plots. Just, the background details are more fascinating to me. The idea of magical CIA is fairly inspired. The performances from the side-characters are great. I like that Colin Farrell is finally in a 'Harry Potter' film (meaning the whole main cast of one of my favourite films of all time,  In Bruges, have been in one of these films) and he's great as the mysterious Percival Graves. Ezra Miller's quiet and tortured performance, who ends up revealing something far more sinister, is also very compelling. Dan Fogler is wonderful as Jacob and his reactions to the wizarding world (and people's reactions to him) are hilarious. The Second Salems add a fascinating new dimension to the Harry Potter universe - No-Majs trying to reveal the wizarding to the larger population, whilst being secretly influenced by Grindelwald. The militant way in which this ideology is spread feels very real and relevant to today. Grindelwald's motivation (which is kept  very hidden in the background - it might even have been a throw away line) is also great - he disagrees with the idea that the wizarding world should be kept hidden and wants them to return to an era where wizards and witches lived together with the No-Majs. This has the potential for good but has ultimately become corrupted into a vision where magic rules all. Heck you could even make this into a conflict of interests a la Professer X vs. Magneto's clashing ideologies, just between Dumbeldore and Grindelwald (who were former lovers after all!). This desire to a return to an idealised past that never existed could even draw upon Brexit comparisons (Rowling has been very vocal on this subject matter). What I'm trying to say is that there are plenty of compelling elements to the film that could have expanded upon and made into a much more compelling story. The catch-'em all plot line just doesn't hold the same interest for me as all the other elements that make up the film. 


I will give Fantastic Beasts this though - it goes places I didn't expect it to, both bizarre and dark - to the point where the tone is all over the place. In fact, the film contains one of the strangest scenes I've seen in a blockbuster in a long time, in which Jacob applies a pheromone to attract one of the magical beasts (a giant rhino) to entice it to return to Newt's suitcase. This is proceeded by Redmayne embarrassing himself by trying to court the rhino back into his suitcase by doing a mating dance - audible uncomfortable silence in the theatre (with some chuckling from me). The more one thinks about it, the stranger it gets. Joking aside, I actually do appreciate that the film ends on a dark note - our heroes don't really save the day. There's some fairly cruel corporal punishment handed out that makes the wizarding world of Britain look fairly liberal! But when you go from mating dances to seriously mentally-scarring punishments, your tone is going to suffer. I don't want to keep comparing this to Harry Potter but the humour in those films always felt appropriate - it was well judged and never felt like it clashed with the more dramatic stuff (except for Half-Blood Prince maybe). That said, at least Rowling is trying to make it unique and is trying to do stuff that other blockbusters wouldn't touch, especially with what I call the gentrification of Hollywood (a piece I will write someday!). 

As a stand-alone flick, Fantastic Beasts would be a fun, if very flawed, expansion of the wizarding world that would shed new light on Rowling's wizarding world. However, with four more films in the pipeline (seemingly to star the same cast) I can't shake this feeling of overstreaching and cashing-in on people's nostalgia for Harry Potter. Ultimately, Harry Potter is about three friends growing up and all the ups and downs that come with that. There's a real heart to the stories that make them compelling. Fantastic Beasts offers a nice expansion of the universe but no real emotional core. I never found the magical creatures of Harry Potter that compelling and the expansion where doesn't form a compelling story. Ultimately, it's a breezy, well-made film with some interesting world-expansion elements but just can't shake off its parent franchise and become its own thing. Ironically enough the film that doesn't star children actually feels more childish than the franchise that had a predominantly young cast...

Rating: 6/10

Sunday, 27 November 2016

Your Name


Every decade or so, an anime film from Japan crosses over into the West, converting a new wave of fans to one of the country's most famous exports. Generally, what links these films together are familiar genre trappings to a Western audience. Akira and Ghost In The Shell became massive cult hits amongst nascent anime fans, who also had a love of science-fiction cinema, in the 1980s and early 1990s. And is it any wonder that Spirited Away, with its Alice In Wonderland framework, managed to translate so well that it ended up winning the Oscar for Best Animated Film (as voted for by a mostly American academy)? The 2010s has finally, perhaps, found its cross-over film in Your Name

While it bears a very Japanese setting (with key parts of its cultural inheritance playing a part in the narrative), Your Name has the potential for universal appeal, with its hugely exciting and emotional storyline, unexpected twists and turns and gorgeous animation. Its director, Makoto Shinkai has been working in the industry for decades, having directed equally gorgeous films, such as The Place Promised In Our Early Years and 5 Centimeters Per Second, which have been mostly relegated to art-house cinemas and limited DVD releases in the West.  Along with fellow modern master Mamoru Hosoda, he boasts a small but dedicated following in Japan and in the West. With Your Name, Shinkai has created one of the most financially successful films every released in Japan. It has earned just under $180 million without a wide release in North America. For comparisons sake, only the films of Hayao Miyazaki have managed to achieve this monumental goal (for the record, Spirited Away is the only film in history to earn $200 million without having a wide release in North America). Due to its success, many critics have been holding Shinkai up as the new Miyazaki. While claims like this do need to be mediated somewhat, in a purely financial and artistic level it is easy to make this comparison (in particular with Japanese critics searching for the heir to the throne left by the semi-retired Miyazaki). There are numerous reasons why it has been such a massive hit in its native Japan but its the trans-global nature of its story and characters that has the potential to reach a much wider audience. 


Your Name, on paper, seems to have the trappings of a normal, high-concept rom-com. Mitsuha (Mone Kamishiraishi) lives in rural Itomori, bored with her life living in the middle of the Japanese countryside and helping to keep ancient traditions alive at her family shrine. Short-tempered Taki (Ryunosuke Kamiki) is a student living in suburban Tokyo, who works at an Italian restaurant and harbours a crush on one of his co-workers. Essentially, both are trying to navigate the ups-and-downs of teenage life and to find their find place in the world. Things become strange when Taki wakes up one morning in the body of Mitsuha and vice versa. The duo soon learn that on random days they are swapping bodies. When they re-awaken in their real bodies, they have no recollection of what their counterpart has been up to with their body, leading to some very funny, and sometimes emotional, scenes. The duo being to adapt to the body-swap, leaving a diary in each others phones, scrawling notes on scraps of paper or on their bodies and setting ground-rules on do's-and-do-not's. At first, they are disorientated but fairly soon they begin to influence each others lives (with their friends and family bewildered at these apparent personality changes) for the better and begin to fall in love with each other. However, with a bright comet looming beautifully in the sky, a cataclysmic event occurs at the half way point which throws the whole relationship into jeopardy as the mystery of why they are body-swapping begins to be revealed..


Body-swapping stories are actually one of my most hated tropes (in particular on television) as it is a cheap excuse for the writer to make really obvious jokes (which every other writer has made). Only a handful have pulled it off successfully, with Red Dwarf's and Buffy's springing to mind. While Your Name does make a couple of obvious jokes (being fascinated, or terrified, of .. certain aspects of the opposite gender's frame - which even in this film is expertly handled!) it manages to take the concept to new and uncharted territories. It uses the body-swap framework as a mechanic to launch a story that is really about the unseen connections that bind people together. The film has universal appeal due to its blending of familiar genres, such as rom-com, sci-fi and (spoilers) disaster-epic signposts. It is this, and the likability of its main characters, that holds the whole film together.  

The aesthetic of the film is what makes Your Name stand apart from Miyazaki. While there certainly are similar elements to the grand master of anime, Shinkai is more interested in capturing that feeling of being a teenager and appealing to a contemporary audience. Joe Hisaishi's gorgeous full orchestra scores are replaced by bright and energetic J-Pop by the band Radwimps. Miyazaki's films look towards the past informing the present, Shinkai is more interested in separation and teenage alienation in the modern world. His almost photo-realistic renderings of Tokyo give a great sense of place, in contrast to the earthy tones of Mitsuha's home town. While Mitsuha and Taki are influenced by their very Japanese settings, they feel like any teenager - itching towards adulthood, compulsively interacting through their phones and trying to work out their place in the world. They are the heart of the film and transcend the setting into a universal coming of age story. Shinaki slowly unveils the plot - he is in no rush to reach its gut-punching and emotional third act without first properly establishing the characters and how the body-swapping shenanigans have affected them. This means when the third act comes around we are on the edge of our seats, nervously anticipating the conclusion. Shinkai creates a tender and exciting conclusion that puts the characters to the ultimate test. 


Shinkai uses the concept of kataware doki, where day and night meet to become twilight, to juxtapose the characters, settings, gender, traditions and time; this is where the film's emotional core lies and how these link the characters together. The comet that hangs in the sky is both awe-inspiring to behold and threatening, stuck between two worlds of thought. The film quietly evokes the trauma of the 2011 earthquake / tsunami and the subsequent Fukushima disaster which has lead some Western critics to compare the film to another masterpiece of teen angst, Donnie Darko. This is all rendered in gorgeous 2D animation. A complete digital creation, Your Name boasts hyper detailed frames with stark colours, gorgeous fluid character movement and expressions, immaculate and intricate backgrounds and subtle CGI backgrounds. One sequence in particular becomes very experimental with its combination of pastel artwork and CGI. Instead of having the makings of a dry, existential drama, Your Name is warm, affecting, beautiful, exciting and funny. How Shinkai turned all these concepts and daring animation choices into a massive audience friendly event without losing the integrity of its story, is nothing short of a miracle. 


Your Name is an engrossing film that encapsulates all the wonderful things animation can achieve. It's exciting, funny, hugely emotional, beautifully animated and takes an unexpected turn at the half way point to become life-affirming. Effortlessly blending genres and styles together, Your Name seems destined to become one of those rare anime films - a cross-over hit in the West (and an Oscar winner maybe?). If you can seen it on the big screen, I cannot recommend it enough - if you've only seen anime on the internet or on DVD, this unlike anything you have experienced before. Your Name is not to be missed, though with a very limited release in the UK it seems audiences might have to wait until the DVD.  Like the potential of Mitsuha and Taki finally meeting each other face-to-face for the first time, it's worth the wait. My film of the year. 

Rating 10/10 

Saturday, 12 November 2016

The Handmaiden


The structure of Park Chan-Wook's films are akin to a complex puzzle. They require your attention, they don't go quite the way you expected and are richly rewarding when you figure them out. Park Chan-Wook is one of the greatest living directors in the world. This South Korean filmmaker has created some of the most visceral and unforgettable films of the 21st century. Beginning with JSA (his treatise on North/South Korean relations), he moved onto direct three films which would form The Vengeance Trilogy (probably my favourite film trilogy) that would propel him to world cinema stardom - Sympathy For Mr. Vengeance, Oldboy and Lady Vengeance. I could easily talk all day about these films - their dense plotting, rich themes, immaculate technique, the unhinged performances; they simply need to be seen. Like a puzzle box, Chan-Wook continues to defy expectations, spanning genres in his follow up films, from romantic-comedy to vampire horror and touching upon gothic literature in his Hitchcock-inspired English language film, Stoker. Chan-Wook is back on home soil with his latest challenge, The Handmaiden - a film that could be cited as the ultimate example of the transglobal world we live in, in which Eastern and Western influences are effortlessly fused together. Showing as part of the excellent Leeds International Film Festival in a rare big-screen showing, this is easily one of the most anticipated events of the festival.

Set in 1930s Japanese-occupied Korea (based on the Victorian set novel Fingersmith by Sarah Waters), The Handmaiden follows a con-artist, who hatches a scheme to rob a rich Japanese noble woman - he plans to marry her, declare her insane, send her to an asylum and run off with her vast inheritance. Under the fake name of Count Fujiwara, he hires a fellow con-artist and pickpocket Sook-He to become the handmaiden for the mysterious and troubled noble woman, Lady Hideko. Sook-He's job - to convince Hideko that Count Fujiwara is the one. Sook-He soon learns that in Lady Hideko's vast estate there is a troubling under-belly, controlled by the authoritative Uncle Kouzuki. Things become more complex when Sook-He and Hideko begin to fall in love with each other...

Revealing anymore of the plot from there would actively ruin the film. Chan-Wook is no rush to reveal his hand. The best way to enjoy this film is to go in as blindly as possible, as part of the fun of watching this intricate and masterfully plotted film is enjoying the way it manipulates you and how it reveals its twists. I will be going into further detail from here on in however I would recommend stop reading here, watch the film, then come back. I 100% recommend the film - its an excellent, densely plotted thriller that deals with interesting themes of female sexuality and identity and comes from a master filmmaker at the top of his game. 


The film has a very steady pace and owes a debt not just to Kurosawa's classic Rashomon but also to classic Gothic literature, such as Jane Eyre and Rebecca. In a genius stroke of masterful set design, this theme of Eastern-Western influence is clearly evoked in the Lady Hideko's estate - a bizarre fusion of a Victorian and Japanese house. Chan-Wook is clearly revelling in holding the audience's suspension and manipulating their expectations. Divided into three parts, each section reveals new depths to the serpentine story and the disturbed cast of characters. Chan-Wook is clear in how he wants us to view his characters - expect the unexpected. Sook-he is spirited and young, open to experimentation, while Lady Hideko is more flawed, emotionally scarred and hides a hidden layer of deceit. Our sympathies are constantly shifting throughout the film, however they're anchored by their clear longing for each other.

In a rare turn (especially for conservative Korea), female and queer sexuality is at the forefront of the film and the simmering sexual tension leaps off the screen. The sex is explicit, you could even argue it is undermined due to the male director's gaze, however ultimately it is a bit more complex than that. The film gives a great amount of agency to its female characters and are not inactive standbys as the schemes of the Count come into play. They actively want to improve the situation they are in and want to pull the rug from underneath the carpet of the male characters. In sharp contrast to the longing between Sook-He and Hideko, male sexuality is represented as grotesque and unsatisfying. Benjamin Lee writes that the men of the film are "pathetic, unwanted voyeurs; misusing, abusing and misunderstanding what women really want"1. The Count looks the part in his well-made, tailored suits but is ultimately a pig who enjoys being a pig. The Uncle revels in collecting rare erotica and indulges in readings of them to a male audience. The performances from the four leads are uniformly excellent, though the standout is Kim Min-hee as Hideko - at first appearing to be the "mad-woman-in-the-attic" stereotype, she reveals much greater depths in a carefully observed performance that is as intricate and complex as the film itself.


With its serpentine plotting, complex characters and themes of sexuality, it is the style and technique that anchors it all tougher. Chan-Wook is one of the most celebrated directors of the 21st century for a reason. His understanding of the cinematic language is unparalleled  He has a wonderful way of opening his films by not really opening at all - you are thrust straight into his worlds and The Handmaiden is no exception. The narrative unfolds in a dreamlike manner, gliding from one scene to another. Perception is at the forefront of the film and Chan-Wook revels in familiar scenes shot from different angles to create new meaning. The richness of each frame, the perfection of the set-ups and the musical accompaniment almost makes it all seem effortless. Wide-shots of the countryside estate reveal its grandeur but also how the characters are trapped within it. That a plot this complex holds together at all is a testament to the director's skill. This is also punctuated by bursts of surprise comedy (often black comedy - the biggest laugh comes after an attempted sucide, bizarrely enough) which helps to keep the humanity and eases up the tension and intricate plotting just enough.



Unfolding like a rich novel, The Handmaiden is a masterpiece of storytelling and style. With its complex cast of characters, exploration of sexuality and themes of identity and truth, Chan-Wook has created another masterclass on filmmaking. Indulgent at times, yes, but the director has always walked this tightrope. Its engaging, surprising and enthralling, which the makes the 2 1/2 hour running time fly by..

Rating: 10/10

1 Benjamin Lee, The Handmaiden review https://www.theguardian.com/film/2016/may/14/the-handmaiden-review-park-chan-wooks-lurid-lesbian-potboiler-simmers-with-sexual-tension

Monday, 31 October 2016

Doctor Strange


Superheroes have truly taken over the screen. With an avalanche of titles heading our way and Marvel and DC battling to a never-ending conclusion to make them as profitable as possible, it is fair to say that fatigue is creeping in. Audiences were split over Batman v Superman and Suicide Squad and even Marvel with Captain America: Civil War, while making a good film, struggled to balance the familiar with something new. No doubt eyes rolled amongst some when Marvel and DC presented their upcoming film calendar planned well into the next decade. Seemingly, Doctor Strange (a classic, but odd, character created by Steve Ditko in the early 1960s) seems to follow a similar structure to past Marvel films - a flawed yet likeable lead gaining superpowers after a life changing event and uses them to combat an underwritten villain and establish their place in Marvel's cinematic empire. All this is there but the film pushes itself one step further than lazier origin films by casting a very likeable lead, a Hogwarts-esque setting, good comedy and, most importantly, incredible triply visuals. 


Doctor Stephen Strange (Benedict Cumberbatch) is an arrogant neurosurgeon who is involved in a horrendous car accident leading him to lose control of his hands. Emotionally destroyed, he first seeks the best medical advice in the world only to learn it will be a useless endeavour. He hears a rumour from a former paraplegic who is now able to walk again that there is an ancient technique in the middle of Nepal that could heal his hands (as it healed his body). Dr. Strange ventures to Nepal and meets the Ancient One (Tilda Swinton) who opens his eyes to the multiverse, astral planes and her ability to draw upon its power to create magic. If he could master this art, he could be able to use it to control his hands again. Strange takes up residence in the Ancient One's school (see the Harry Potter comparison) hoping to achieve these goals. However, Strange's lessons are interrupted by the nefarious schemes of Kaecillius (Mads Mikkelson) (who I am just going to call Kae from now on), who is planning on opening the door to the dark dimension, the home of the evil-being Dormammu hoping to unleash him on Earth, in exchange for gifting him eternal life. Strange is forced into his biggest challenge yet as he grapples with his own ego and the fate of the universe...

So the plot and trappings are incredibly goofy. However, the films sells it mostly thanks to Benedict Cumberbatch's performance. Admittedly, I am not the biggest fan of his past performances but he is perfectly cast as Dr. Strange - egotistical, brilliant, funny, cocky, Cumberbatch is able to bring a Robert Downey Jr. vibe to the character whilst also making it his own thing. He is suddenly thrust into a world where people no longer find his corny, Joss Wheadon-quips funny (though there is a great scene involving a wi-fi password - I will say no more). A man of science coming up against the mystic arts is interesting, funny and kind of profound at times, as Strange has to grapple with lure of immortality and letting go of his preconceived notions of the universe. It works really well, surprisingly well! There are some border line schlock moments but these are managed well. What's important is that we are emotionally invested in Dr. Strange's struggle making it all the more satisfying as he comes to accept his place in the wider universe. 


The comedic highlights of Strange come from its secondary characters, especially from a particularly funny turn by the brilliant Benedict Wong, playing the stone faced, newly elected librarian Wong, which is played up for great laughs. Chiwetel Eijfor plays Mordo, a pupil at the Ancient One's school and while not the most special character in the world, he is an effective foil to Strange and does go on a semi-interesting arc. One of Marvel's bug-bears, outside of underwritten villains, is equally under-written love interests. Rachel McAdams does the best she can with the material in the role of Christine Palmer, a fellow doctor, but can't get past the script's fundamental disinterest in her. Which is a complete shame. Bizaarely, one of the most fun 'characters' is Doctor Strange's cape, which feels like Aladdin's Carpet's long lost (and more well tailored) cousin and actually gets one of the biggest laughs in the film - again, I will say no more. 

The casting of Tilda Swinton has been controversial as the Ancient One in the comic is a Tibetian male and now played as being a white Celtic woman living in Nepal. While I will not get into the politics of this casting decision in the this review, it does highlight that white-washing is still a terrible part of the film-industry and is also unfortunately informed by the state of global affairs. That said, it should be noted that Swinton plays the Ancient One as a non-binary character, a massive step forward for gender representation not just for Marvel (who have only just grappled with sexuality - straight and gay! - on the excellent TV series Jessica Jones) but also the film industry. Marvel have been fairly adamant in response to criticism that the gender of the character does not matter and that it is simply in the eye of the beholder. So while on the one hand, yes the decision to white-wash the character does deny a Tibetan actor the chance to take on the role, it is used to at least push another form of positive representation. I'm not saying what should have been the right decision, more taking what I can..In any case, the Ancient One is essentially the Merlin or Obi-Wan Kenobi of the film (which, again, it is rare that this role is played by a woman) and Swinton is clearly relishing the chance to play this role. She opens Dr. Strange's mind to the power of the universe and its endless possibilities, though she is hiding a much darker secret. One of the most effective and philosophical moments comes at the end of Act Two and is about as profound as Marvel can get.


With all Marvel Cinematic Universe properties (bar Loki in The Avengers and Kilgrave from Jessica Jones) the villain is one of the bigger let-downs. Maybe not to the extent of past films, as Doctor Strange and Kae do exchange interesting notions to each other, the villain does feel underwritten to the point of posing no real threat (outside of his evil scheme). Some fans of the comics might be disappointed by Dormammu as well (his design differs greatly to comics and does not have a lot of screen time), however the sequence he is featured in towards the end of the film is one of Marvel's greatest, and most unexpected scenes, which will go down with the likes of Hulk unexpectedly bashing Loki around in The Avengers as one of the classic moments in the MCU. I understand that with an origin film the hero should be the main focus but Marvel needs to work on its Big Bads...


Finally, I want to discuss the visuals of the film. This is easily Marvel's most ambitious film to date in terms of creating new and exciting action scenes. Dr. Strange's initial voyage through the multiverse is like something out 2001: A Space Odyssey for its bright colours and trippy visuals. Better yet, this same ambition is employed during action sequences where Kae and the Ancient One are able to bend reality around them to create three-dimensional mazes out of New York. It is vibrant, inventive and incredibly fun to watch. This becomes even better when Dr. Strange discovers the power to manipulate time. As the sequence moves in reverse (objects, extras etc.), the heroes and villains fight at normal speed. Marvel's doctorate to try something different visually with each film (whilst sticking to a very familiar framework) make them a treat to watch (mostly) and Doctor Strange is no exception. One of the big selling points is its visuals and it does not let down at all. It actually manages to outdo the similar reality bending antics of Inception.


Doctor Strange feels like a very familiar film at this point, especially in the sea of superhero films on the horizon, but its strong central performance, good comedy, fascinating central concepts, hints at existential themes and excellent trippy actions sequences make up for the script's downfalls, which come in the expected places for MCU films. I was ready for a second to maybe even third tier Marvel film but the shortcomings are made up for in the right places, which manages to make Doctor Strange engaging and, more importantly, fun. For the first time in a long while, I'm actually interested in how the introduction of a new hero into the MCU will affect the wider narrative arc of these films. Doctor Strange is another example of Marvel's winning formula to create interesting, engaging and sometimes even thoughtful blockbusters. 

Rating: 8/10

The Innocents

Criminally Underrated 
(a new series in which I highlight and discuss films, TV, music, games or books worthy of your attention that don't get enough time in the limelight)

2. The Innocents



The Innocents is one the greatest horror films of all time. It contains no blood, no monstrous beast or indestructible serial killer to defeat and no jump scares. Instead, it elects to maintain a constantly creepy atmosphere suggesting a disturbing undercurrent to the proceedings. This is the definition of a film that gets under your skin. In this regard, The Innocents' tone and pace are somewhat the coin flip to another classic British horror film, The Wicker Man. While seemingly having little in common, both films choose to maintain a slower pace building up the atmosphere (in The Wicker Man's case, the tone built gets steadily stranger and stranger) to reach unforgettable climaxes. The Innocents is the kind of the film that will leave you ruminating for days after watching.

The Innocents is based on the novel The Turn of the Screw by Henry James. The story follows Miss Giddens, a newly elected governess who has been tasked with looking after two orphaned children in a massive countryside estate. At first, the job seems like a dream. Miss Giddens is instantly taken aback by the younger girl, Flora, but is troubled by news that the eldest boy, Miles, will be returning home due to being expelled from his boarding school. Despite this cloud hanging over him, Miss Giddens is again instantly entranced by Miles. However, there is a dark undercurrent working within the house. Miss Giddens begins to see people that don't belong, perhaps spirits and apparitions? Miss Giddens soon learns that this large house holds many dark and twisted secrets, which seem to centre around the two children. As her own mental psyche begins to unravel the true mysteries of the house begin to reveal themselves.


Martin Scorsese placed The Innocents in a list of the Top Eleven Scariest films of all time. Guillmero Del Toro lovingly referenced sequences and costumes from the film in his celebration of gothic horror, Crimson Peak. While modern, more cynical audiences might call it out on its lack of scares, the film successful builds a tense, entrancing and disturbing atmosphere (with Freudian undertones) which is achieved through several different filmmaking and writing techniques working together. I would call it the film director's horror film. Truman Capote, author of In Cold Blood, contributes the script to director Jack Clayton, a master craftsman. Should I ever achieve one of my life goals of becoming a film tutor, The Innocents will be part of the module I teach on the Language of Cinema. In terms of technique, it is impeccable in its construction. The film perfectly blends stylish and stately cinematography with cutting-edge sound and editing design. This is no more apparent in the film's most famous sequence - the chilling scene in which Miss Giddens views a spirit in the background with young Flora playing in the foreground by a lake. It actually feels like Clayton captured on film a real ghost on screen, only improved by the graininess of the film, the sound of flies buzzing (more on that later) and, oddly, the decision to shot it in the day time, creating a stark contrast between the living and the dead. 


I also feel that Scorsese used an underrated element of the film in Shutter Island - the intentional continuity errors. This creates a dreamlike atmosphere where nothing is at it seems. Miss Giddens walks into Flora's room, with the wide-shot making it clear that no-one is there, with only the window open (generally this technique is used to establish the geography of the scene - how big is the room, what characters are in it, where they are placed etc). Cut to a close up shot of Flora staring out of the window... As Miss Giddens wanders the house at night the candles appear to grow and shrink from shot-to-shot (no doubt due the nightmare of keeping up the continuity of candles melting!). Now these are probably genuine mistakes but they help to give an extra nightmarish layer to the film. Finally, the last element of technique I wish to discuss is the incredible sound and experimental sound design. A genius move to indicate the arrival of the ghosts is the use of a wasp sound, indicating decay and death and that we have entered another world, which is enhanced by the large amounts of silence in the film and lack of musical accompaniment. The only musical piece in the film is diegetic - the children hum or play a simple melody which will become a key part of Miss Giddens uncovering the plot's secrets. 


Deborah Kerr plays Miss Giddens, an educated governess willing to take on the huge challenge of educating and raising two orphaned children. Immediately, her sense of the world is brought under question as she sinks deeper into the mysteries surrounding the house. The performance is believable (in a classic Victorian way) and Kerr wonderfully plays the character's determination to seek the truth (whilst also being vulnerable as she begins to fall for the charms of the children). Like Howie in The Wicker Man, Miss Giddens' faith is put to the test (interestingly, she is the daughter of a preacher) and her perception of reality is constantly under question. The film is an excellent example of how costume can inform us about character. Miss Giddens begins the film in flowery, white dresses, constantly wearing her hat. However, as the film proceeds she begins to not wear it (one of the children ask where it has gone) and starts to dress in black, in sync with her becoming consumed by the mystery that is engulfing the house and her own impending madness (and moving towards looking like the mysterious spirit by the lake).

Both actors who play Flora and Miles are very good but the latter is the stand out. Uptight and privileged, yet charming and intelligent, Miles is the definition of a privileged brat with darker plans bubbling underneath. However that said, the actress who plays Flora does an almost equally good job and also has to perform for what is probably the film's most disturbing sequence. The purpose of Criminally Underrated is to highlight pieces of media that I think don't get enough time in the limelight; as such I will not be discussing spoilers within this review. I say this because the twist surrounding the house, the children and the dark past imply a disturbing undercurrent that highlights the film's strongest attribute to suggest as opposed to show - to discuss the film further I would need to reveal the big spoiler, which I am not going to do. Let's just say that plot takes some very interesting turns and the secrets revealed are fairly ambitious to suggest on screen even now, never mind in 1960. So I suggest you pick up a copy and go on the journey for yourself...


The Innocents remains one of the classiest and well-paced horror films of all time. Its steady pace, innovative filmmaking techniques, excellent acting and disturbing sub-text make it an unforgettable film. Some modern audiences might scoff at the slower pace, ambiguous story and lack of jump scares but those who stick around will find a gorgeous film that uses every trick in the book (and some new ones) to unsettle the audience. What secrets do children keep? The truth might be more unnerving than we realise...


Rating: 10/10

Sunday, 2 October 2016

Coraline

Criminally Underrated 
(a new series in which I highlight and discuss films, TV, music, games or books worthy of your attention that don't get enough time in the limelight)

1. Coraline


As a note, Criminally Underrated is designed to highlight works I think need more attention and love. As such, I will not be giving away any large spoilers, as part of the fun is discovering them yourself, and will discuss the film's plot in a general sense. If I do want to discuss spoilers, these will be clearly marked.

Coraline is wandering around the woods surrounding her new home, the pleasantly retro Pink Palace Apartments (having recently moved from Michigan to Oregon - which, as Gravity Falls has taught me, is a state of supernatural mystery). She discovers a mysterious well, which may well lead to another world. Suddenly, out of the woods over a small hill, a skeleton rider screeches into Coraline's view as if out of Mad Max. However, the figure removes his mask and reveals himself to be her socially awkward neighbour, 'Wybie'. Along with its wonderfully creepy opening (in which a spindly figure creates a doll in Coraline's image having literally turned another doll inside-and-out), Coraline's first ten minutes perfectly captures the themes that the film will explore. An adventure into the unknown and duality of character. 

Coraline was released in 2009 and benefitted from an excellent creative team backing it. First of all, the film is a loose adaptation of the Neil Gaiman novel of the same name. Gaiman being the master of reviving fairy tails and ancient legends into modern day trappings. Second, the film was directed and essentially brought to the screen by Henry Selick. Animation fans proudly use this knowledge in pub quizzes; Tim Burton actually did not direct The Nightmare Before Christmas. Having basically overseen all the pre-production prep (the script, the art style, the storyboards etc.), he handed directing over to someone whose skill was stop-motion animation (Burton felt he was not up to the task at the time) - Henry Selick. The classic gothic fairy tale that was Nightmare made Selick a perfect choice to helm Coraline. Finally, production was handed to nascent animation studio, Laika, who have subsequently created animation triumphs in Paranorman and Kubo And The Two Strings. Undoubtedly the modern master of stop-motion animation, Laika continue to push the boundaries of what is possible in the art form. Throwing all this creative energy produced Coraline, a masterpiece of pacing, art design and animation. Better yet, it has a wonderful and often creepy story to follow it.


Coraline Jones is pre-pubescent child who has moved to a new home far from her friends into the middle of leafy Oregon. Her parents are over-worked writers, desperately rushing to complete Dad's gardening catalogue. Add to this, Mum has injured her neck and is prone to irritability due to the pain she is in and the stress she is under. Even stranger, Coraline receives a doll made in her likeness, complete with unnerving black buttons for eyes. Coraline is an adventurous and curious sort and soon begins to discover the secrets hidden within the walls of the apartments (and as a way to escape her distracted and stressed parents - who often take it out on Coraline). She soon discovers a door in the wall, which at first seems to lead nowhere but later reveals itself to be the entrance to another world. An alternative reality of her home, complete with perfect idealised versions of her parents (dubbed Other Mum and Other Dad). With no stress or worries, they lavish all their attention and love onto Coraline. There is a sense of underlying menace here though, as Other Mum and Other Dad have black buttons for eyes (similar to the doll)  but Coraline soon becomes infatuated with this world. However, she begins to uncover the true nature of this world and the frightful reality of the task she has to complete when her real parents go missing..

One of Coraline's greatest strengths is its pacing. The films moves at a slower pace, especially in comparison to other children's films, however this gives the viewer time to orientate to the world and the mystery surrounding it. We are given time to be introduced to all the residents of the apartments, who will subsequently help Coraline on her journey (these being former starlets Ms. Spink and Ms. Forcible who dwell in the basement apartment and the eccentric Russian acrobat Mr. Bobinsky - voiced by Ian McShane, who gave one of my favourite performances of all time as Al Swarengen in HBO's classic Western TV series, Deadwood). This also allows time to establish Coraline's character and her relationship with her parents, in particular her mum. She is independent, charming and funny yet head-strong and prone to impatience and irritability. Basically, a full fleshed out character befitting of someone her age making her an excellent lead for the film. Dakota Fanning voices her in a great performance which brings out all these different elements at the right time. The film can have its scary moments (nothing too intense but maybe enough to rattle some children) however if the central character is strong, than this is something children can latch onto to get them through. This is all helped by the excellent musical score and sound design. Coraline is actually a very quiet film, with a limited sound design. However, this allows moments and scenes to have real impact. The soundtrack also reflects this and helps to maintain a charming atmosphere with a creepy undercurrent (fortunately, Danny Elfman was not brought on board...).


The real world has a grey, autumnal art style, giving a sense that the apartments have seen better days, almost as if all the warmth has been sucked out of the world (which I imagine is how Coraline is feeling). Contrast this to the Other World, which is warmer and more welcoming. Bright, rich reds and powerful lighting. Coraline encounters strange new supernatural beings, exaggerated building designs, talking cats and much more. The subtle art choices here highlight the power of good art design in film and help to bring the film's theme of duality to the fore-front. All this is only possible in animation. Stop-motion animation is a true craft, requiring time and patience but can create worlds unlike any other - and it has never looked as gorgeous as it does in Coraline, giving a loving and hand-crafted feel to the film. Selick is truly a master of gothic-fairy-tale art style and knows how to correctly apply designs to create meaning and emotions. 

Coraline meets Other World versions of all the characters she has come to know in the real world (complete with black buttons for eyes), only here they are free from their regular lives and past experiences. However, things are not as they seem and these perfect versions that Coraline is at first entranced by reveal to be something much darker and sinister. Real people are flawed and there is no such thing as a 'perfect' person. a good example of this as expressed in the art design of Mr Bobinski. A former acrobat who still tries to train has long skinny legs and arms but also has a large beer belly. A sign of what he used to be and where he is now. We are all trying to work through life and its the connections we make with others that help to create meaning and get us through. Coraline learns this lesson over the course of the film coming to terms with her imperfect parents, learning to love them and understand them for who they are. 


I feel Coraline is often forgotten about in the list of modern animated classics and its hard to pinpoint why. It is overflowing with ideas, has a great central character and a lovely pace that allows all the different elements chance to breath. It could be the film's scarier elements that turn more conservative parents off or it could be in the way the film is designed. Its understated and dream-like pace sucks you into its world and is in no rush to reveal its hand. With all the bombast of Illumination studios (with little substance) and the big emotions of Pixar, Coraline's understated style may explain why it is often neglected. Its happy being its own thing and the individuals who discover the film become just as enraptured and wary for the adventure ahead, just as Coraline must feel entering the Other World for the first time..

Saturday, 10 September 2016

One More Time With Feeling


Short verdict: A raw and haunting document on grief, Nick Cave turns his sorrow into a harrowing and beautiful look at trauma as explored in interviews and poetic readings, combined with visually arresting recordings of performances from his new new album, Skeleton Tree

There was a clear electric buzz as a large queue formed outside of Leeds’ historic cinema, the Hyde Park Picture House. Following a sold-out performance of the new Nick Cave film One More Time With Feeling on 08/09 (a one-night only screening across the globe and a day ahead of the release of the new album, Skeleton Tree), the Hyde Park Picture House kindly put on, as they dubbed it, an encore performance. Me, my friend and several others in the queue were delighted at the high turn out, imagining only 5 Nick Cave fanatics together at the screening. This was also my inaugural visit to this historic venue (the cinema was founded in 1914 and has continually shown a wide range of films, now specialising in foreign, indie and historic releases) and as I settled into the ‘cosiest cinema in Leeds’, my hopes were high that the film would match the build-up.

Nick Cave (master of gothic songwriting and performance and band leader of the long running band The Bad Seeds) lost his son Arthur, aged 15, to tragic accident in 2015, around the time we began writing and recording his sixteenth album, which would become Skeleton Tree. The film, which began life as an audio-visual document of the writing and recording process, turned into a documentary exploring the grief that two parents are working through having lost their child. The details behind Arthur’s death are not explicitly explored but his loss is felt in every frame of this beautiful film.

Nick Cave at times is bemused that he is even attempting a project such as this following such a terrible trauma. His second in command, Warren Ellis, expresses at the beginning of the film mis-givings about opening up to discussing the experiences that have happened in the past year to his friend and his family. How can a film truly express the feeling a grieving parent must be experiencing? Nick himself says that any time he tries to articulate the words he feels he is just speaking bullshit and is actually do a discredit to his son. However, what the documentary team capture (led by director Andrew Dominik who made the modern classic The Assassination of Jesse James) is pure raw emotion that is expressed in very candid interviews, musical performances of the new songs and avant-garde imagery overplayed with readings of Cave’s poetry. This is not an easy film to watch at all but it ultimately becomes a rewarding experience, examining trauma, the nature of life and the creative process. The film simply asks us to listen and try to understand the grieving process and how fed into creating the new album.

Cave expresses his loss through his music. He makes it clear that his normal creative process could no longer apply instead opting for his emotions to flow free through ad-libbing and improvisation with Warren Ellis. Even if some of the songs were written both Arthur’s death, the way they are performed and produced give a great sense of melancholy. Cave himself says that even if it is not explicit, just by the event that transpired the lyrics will naturally take on a second meaning. It is a fascinating glimpse in the creative process. Through the heavy subject matter, Cave’s love for his wife, Suzy, and son (Arthur was one of a set of twins) and his friendship with band mate Warren Ellis shine through, who brings a real warmth and humour to the film (surprisingly, there a couple of understated laughs in the film). There are wonderful moments in the film, such as a trip to the studio from his son or Ellis belittling his classical violin, that provide moments of levity.


The performances of the new songs are impeccable and the way they are directed (all shot in stunning black-and-white, like the rest of the film) make use of impressive of lighting and subtle camera movement. There are a couple times where it becomes a little bit too overblown but for the most part the style complements the music perfectly. This is intercut with poetic passages, where Cave is describing his various feelings, ranging from deep sadness to bitter anger. Again, the imagery used perfectly matches the time and rhythm of Cave’s prose. The final element of the film are the candid and raw interviews with Cave and Suzy. Cave is quite open in his inability to discuss his emotions, as described earlier, but as an audience we begin, in a small way, to understand the ordeal he has had to, and continues to, endure. He equates trauma to pulling an elastic band attached to your arm. You can pull it further and further and away but eventually it will snap back into place – it has become his new emotional epicentre. Cave, whilst clearly emotionally distraught and deeply tired, is as comfortable as he can be exploring these dark emotional issues. He ultimately concludes that there is a fenced-off part of his brain and how he and his wife have tried to move on with this fenced off place existing. It is difficult to pinpoint what Cave wanted to achieve in the film but that is likely the point – he is trying to work out his place in the universe in the face of an immense personal loss. This beautiful and intimate film is not easy viewing but it bravely tackles issues that many grieving parents must experience and helps those who have not lost a child to understand in even a small way the confusion and emotionally draining experience it is and the ultimate drive to continue to live and begin the grieving process.

Long Verdict: Emotionally raw, Cave employs three distinct styles to explore his feeling of immense grief in the face of losing a loved one. His searing pain becomes a very personal document that candidly discuss all the feelings him and wife continue to experience. While not easy watching but One More Time With Feeling is a rewarding film that sticks with the viewer long after the credits have rolled. Powerful musical performances, cutting interviews and a great style make for an unforgettable documentary.

Rating: 9/10