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Wednesday 24 January 2024

Review: The Color Purple

The film to stage musical to musical film pipeline has been going strong for a while now, with results best described as "mixed". Even great musicals can become average films, and with a perfectly good film version already in place a musical take has even more obstacles to overcome.

So it's a relief that that the new musical version of The Color Purple - featuring songs from the 2005 musical, which in turn built on both the 1985 Spielberg film and the 1982 novel by Alice Walker - feels like a natural extension of what went before. Directed by Beyonce collaborator Blitz Bazawule, it's in turn riotously energetic and sombre, music thrumming through the Georgia of a century ago like a heartbeat.

Celie (Phylicia Pearl Mpasi) has it rough from the start. Pregnant at 14 with her second child to her father Alfonso (Deon Cole) raising her, it's only her younger sister Nettie (Halle Bailey) that provides her with any joy. After Alfonso gives away her newborn (delivered by a midwife played, in a nice cameo, by Whoopi Goldberg, who made her screen debut in the 1985 film), he marries her off to the superficially charming "Mister" (Colman Domingo). 

It is not a happy marriage. When Nettie flees Alfonso's clutches, she finds safety with her sister - for a time, as Mister is no better. Resisting his advances as well, she's thrown out, leaving Celie alone in a loveless house. 

Years pass and other women come into her life. There's force of nature Sofia (Danielle Brooks), who won't accept the violence and abuse Celie (now played by Fantasia Barrino) sees as her lot in life. And Shug Avery (Taraji P Henson) local girl made good singing the blues and love of Mister's life, rolls back into town stinking drunk. She's looking for a place to dry out; what she finds helps rekindle her passion for performing and her love of... well, her relationship with Celie is largely a matter of suggestion here.

There's a lot of heartbreak and pain here, and no shortage of brutality either. A big part of what makes the musical numbers work is the way they tap into the inner lives of Celie and those around her, the sorrow that fills their lives and the strength they find to keep going. Occasionally shading into the fantastic, the big group numbers underline the sense of community that runs throughout the story, while the solo songs driving home the sadness and isolation the characters struggle with.

As with all musicals, different songs will connect with different people; for mine, the earlier, more blues-influenced songs hit harder, and Shug's big numbers are always a stand-out. But across the board, the songs are strong enough to justify this film all on their own.

That's not to take away from the performances, or from Bazawule's direction. Swerving between authentically lived-in and woozy fantasy, this first and foremost feels like it's coming from the heart. It's a powerful, all-encompassing experience, one that - to use an over-used phrase - takes audiences on a journey. 

The feel-good ending (even for some of the nastier characters) is both joyous and earned; it's a hard road to travel, and everyone on it deserves a shot at redemption.

- Anthony Morris

 

 

 

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Thursday 18 January 2024

Review: Priscilla


There's a lot of index cards that make up the Elvis story, and Priscilla Presley is usually shuffled a fair way down the pack. She doesn't have much of an impact on the music side of things; you'd think being his wife would make her central to his personal life, but it seems most of the good stuff - the drugs, the affairs, the trip to visit President Nixon - took place without her.

Sophia Coppola's take on Priscilla's biography is one that fits her own filmography like a glove: Priscilla (Cailee Spaeny) was a young woman trapped in a gilded cage. Pretty much from the moment the fourteen year-old was introduced to the 24 year-old Elvis (Jacob Elordi) on an US Army base in Germany she was kept from maturing, stuck living a life that seemed ideal yet increasingly failed to give her what she wanted and needed.

It's the early courting scenes that (intentionally) have the most life here, with Elvis as a good ol' boy with pure intentions and a lot of heartbreak and loneliness after the death of his mother. Priscilla is a young woman on the verge of something she can't name, only to make the one choice that erases any chance of her finding out.

The issue of the creepy age gap is largely defused - seems Elvis wasn't all that interested in her sexually no matter what her age. But the question of exactly what Elvis did want from her remains up in the air, even as he woos both her and her parents, getting them to agree to her staying (chaperoned) at Graceland.

Elvis clearly has firm opinions about her behaviour and dress that he's not afraid to impress upon her - if it'd give her an external life it was ruled out, though considering his massive fame keeping her close wasn't entirely unjustified. But the result was that much of her life with him was one of benign neglect, leaving her at home or out of things while he was busy being Elvis outside of Graceland. 

Best guess is she represented an ideal of womanhood Presley felt he needed in his life, even as he was popping pills, sleeping with Ann-Margaret and partying with the Memphis Mafia. Priscilla seemingly has everything she could want, only nobody ever asks her what she needs.

Priscilla is on the fringe of big things, but Coppola never leaves us feeling that we're missing out. Elvis' life is big but bland and unexamined - it's Priscilla's growth, her realisation that she's never going to be anything more than an object in her marriage, that's the real action here.

Not that "action" is quite the right word. The usual biopic list-checking of big events shows up from time to time, but the insights into The King are limited (there isn't a single Elvis song on the soundtrack) and stakes are rarely all that high. Priscilla is frustrated and stifled, Elvis is more neglectful than anything else, and when she finally decides she wants out Elvis knows it's time to let her go.

Still, both lead performances are spot-on, and the hazy vibe of life in Graceland is evocative and effective. It's a story in a minor key; if it feels like bigger things are just out of sight - for both Elvis and Priscilla - that's kind of the point.

- Anthony Morris

Wednesday 3 January 2024

Review: Ferrari

The latest in Michael Mann's examinations of men under the pump, Ferrari features something of a gear change. Now pushing eighty, Mann is usually drawn to men of action, even in biographies (Ali). This look at a month or so of the life of Enzo Ferrari (Adam Driver) takes place in 1957, when his racing days are long behind him. In a world of kinetic frenzy, Ferrari is on the sidelines directing; read into that what you will.

Not that this is two hours of Enzo lying by the pool sipping a Negroni. The opening sees him slipping silently away from one woman - his secret lover Lina (Shailene Woodley), with whom he has a son about to be confirmed (but will Enzo give him the Ferrari name?) - to return to his wife Laura (Penelope Cruz). She says hello by shooting at him. 

Work isn't going much better. Partly because Laura owns half the company but their personal life is in ruins after the death of their son, mostly because Enzo is focused entirely on racing but it's selling cars that pays the bills. When a new driver comes a-knocking, Enzo is watching his current top driver flinging a car around the track in order to reclaim a speed record they lost just hours earlier. Enzo says he doesn't need a new driver; no prizes for guessing how quickly that changes.

No one event can solve all his problems, but winning the 1000 mile cross country Mille Miglia promises to steady his speed wobbles. If you know the details of the 1957 race, then you know what to expect; if you don't, Mann and scriptwriter Troy Kennedy Martin provide just enough red herrings (hang on, that driver didn't properly check in!) to keep you in suspense. 

Or maybe just dread. The constant spectre of death hangs over the racers' camaraderie, which Enzo clearly still craves even as he remains apart. The scene before the race begins where the drivers write farewell letters to their loved ones like WWI fighter pilots is moving stuff.

The family dramas are a little more melodramatic (one major plot is Laura slowly figuring out the existence of Lina, then remorselessly tracking her down), but an at times astonishingly raw performance from Cruz more than makes up for it. And while Woodley pales a little by comparison, that feels intentional: in a life that seems constantly on the verge of flying apart, she's what keeps things grounded - for the brief moments Enzo's with her.

Driver plays Enzo as a steely (literally in his grey suits) figure of determination. But there's no fraying around the edges. The control required comes off as second nature. He's got a handle on things, whether selling cars to kings or trading banter at the barbers; now he's pushing them to the limit like he once did on the track. 

Mann's film is full of speed and velocity - the car scenes are white-knuckle visceral - but Ferrari is on a different track. Even when standing still, he's constantly driving himself forward; each victory only sets the stage for the next race.

- Anthony Morris

 

Sunday 31 December 2023

Most Films of 2023

I was all set to do my usual year's best and worst movies of the year list, albeit with a few caveats - this was the year where my last remaining steady film reviewing gig stopped answering my emails, so I'd missed a few of the bigger big titles - when a film came along that redefined the very notion of "best". That film? 

Muzzle.

 


A sleazy right-wing gritty cop fantasy packed with plot points too demented to recount with a straight face - though Muzzle makes a good fist of it, being completely po-faced no matter how absurd the twist - it was in no way a "good film". But to me, and very possibly only to me, its delirious nutbaggery was consistently entertaining in a way many much better films couldn't come close to achieving.

That I often enjoy violent trash cinema is no surprise. But Muzzle was a reminder that year-end best-of lists - and critical opinion in general - are really nothing more than a way for a critic to try and explain what kind of person they are. The point is not so much "these are the films I thought were the best", as it is "I want to let you know I am the kind of person who liked these films".

Which is the whole point of the exercise, obviously: who want to take film recommendations from a critic they have nothing in common with? And thus freed from any requirement to present to you, my most likely non-existent reader, a list of films I think achieved some arbitrary benchmark of overall quality, here instead in no particular order are 25 films I saw for the first time this year (either at home or in the cinema) that I enjoyed more than usual. 

Hopefully there's some titles here you might be inspired to check out for yourself, if only to discuss the completely insane and totally terrifying camel attack (seriously!) in Naga.

*Mother’s Day (the violent Polish one)

 

*Master Gardener

 

*Furies

 

*Aftersun

 

*How to Have Sex

 

*Tar

 

*Jung_E

 

*The Locksmith

 

*Skinamarink

 

*Dead Shot

 

*How to Blow Up a Pipeline

 

*Silent Night

 

*No One Will Save You

 

*Fair Play

 

*Dungeons & Dragons: Honor Among Thieves

 

*Bottoms

 

*Plane

 

*Sisu

 

*The Royal Hotel

 

*Rise of the Footsoldier: Vengeance

 

*Night of the Hunted

 

*May December

 

*The Yellow Sea

 

*Naga

 

*John Wick: Chapter 4


Monday 25 December 2023

Review: Coup de Chance

The skills required to be a first-class comedian often prove applicable in less overtly humourous ways - just look at the long list of comedians who've delivered powerhouse performances in dramatic roles. And so it is with Woody Allen.

A new comedy from the 87 year old hasn't exactly been cause for celebration for a while now. But with the French-language and (intentionally) laugh-free Coup de Chance, Allen shows that when he serves up a wry look at human failings, he's still got what it takes to make a killing.

Fanny (Lou de Laage) has it all. Decent job, well-off husband, big apartment in Paris. But when she bumps into old high school classmate Alain (Niels Schneider) after a decade, he's a living reminder of a path not taken. He's a writer living in a garret; her evenings are spent dining with the stuffy friends of her husband Jean (Melvil Poupaud), a man who makes "rich people richer".

Alain makes no secret of the fact he had a crush on her, and that his feelings haven't changed. Increasingly, Jean's controlling side stifles her; soon they're having a full blown affair. Jean is not the kind of man to dismiss minor clues, and he hires an investigator to find out what's going on. Once he's given the bad news, he hires someone with a very different set of skills.  

For a while it seems like Jean has (yet again?) pulled off the perfect crime, until an unlikely investigator arrives. Fanny's mother Camille (Valerie Lemercier) is someone who doesn't let things go, and the more she thinks about it the more she thinks Jean is up to something. But the closer she gets to the truth, the greater the obstacle she becomes to Jean - and we already know how he deals with obstacles.

At a time when it feels like being bombastic is the main requirement for a cinema release, this small scale tale of all-too-human ruthlessness and romance is a breath of fresh air. 

The contrast between the surface charm and the story's dark undercurrent is energising. There's always something compelling about seeing people propelled down a path because of their nature, and Allen retains a comedians eye when it comes to crafting engaging characters.

Likewise, his ability to conjure an lovingly idealised image of urban life is undiminished, even if here it's Paris rather than New York that's on adoring display. Putting good looking people in attractive locations will take you a long way in a movie; throw in a well-crafted plot with some sharp observations and you've got a winner.

- Anthony Morris

Monday 11 December 2023

Review: Saltburn

Seems rich people are vapid, self-obsessed, thoughtlessly cruel, and often stupid: who knew? But don't worry, Saltburn also lets us know that poor(er) people are creepy, abrasive, socially inept and straight-out murderous. Lucky everyone is so good looking, hey?

Emerald Fennell's follow-up to Promising Young Woman once again wraps a story that wants to mean something but really doesn't in a very stylish package largely carried by the performances, though here there's also a collection of decade-old bangers on the soundtrack to keep you distracted. It'd be a case of style over substance, only there isn't any substance - but there is a bit of substance abuse that eventually becomes relevant to the plot.

Oxford student Oliver Quick (Barry Keoghan) has no mates and no connections, which puts him perpetually on the outer at a university where either you're part of the elite or you're nothing. And at the center of the social swirl is Felix Catton (Jacob Elordi); women want him, men want to be him, and when Oliver lends him his bike so he can get to class on time, suddenly Oliver has an in with the in crowd.

Maintaining his status isn't easy, and even distracted viewers will rapidly pick up on the not-so-subtle clues that things aren't entirely as they seem with Oliver. No matter: a personal tragedy at just the right time scores Oliver an invite to spend the holidays with Felix at the family mansion Saltburn, and there the real fun begins.

Felix's parents (Richard E Grant and Rosamund Pike) are comedy buffoons; his sister Annabel (Sadie Soverall) is what you might call "a party girl". Fellow guest Farleigh (Archie Madewe) has a bully's eye for Oliver's weaknesses, partly because his family's standing (and wealth) isn't as solid as he'd like. As for Pamela (Carey Mulligan), she's a drip who doesn't seem to realise it's time to leave.

This stretch is the best in the film, mostly because stupid careless rich people are always entertaining even if there's absolutely nothing new being said. Fennell is at her best when she's merely suggesting that something isn't quite right, and the numerous scenes here where class and status is undermined and then re-enforced have an engaging energy to them.

But even the best parties have to end sometime, and gradually it becomes clear that Oliver's interest in Felix isn't merely friendship but runs on some unsettling parallel track marked obsession. Also, he seems surprisingly good at manipulating the other members of Felix's family (admittedly, not a tough job). What exactly is his end game, and why is he slurping up Felix's bathwater after Felix jerked off into it?

Unfortunately the answer seems to be "don't worry about it", because no sooner does the plot kick in than it becomes clear that Fennell is a lot better at coming up with striking scenes than she is with stringing them all together in a way that builds to anything, let alone makes sense. 

The film's shock twist conclusion pretty much contradicts much of what's come before and largely relies on you going "oh, it's an update of The Talented Mr Ripley, I'm quite smart for having realised that"; on whatever level you choose, the story doesn't work.

Overall it's largely forgettable and often silly, but there are a number of fun and effective scenes along the way. It definitely doesn't hurt that Keoghan - whose short stature is repeatedly emphasised here - is 100% going for it every chance he gets. 

There's not a lot of roles that require you to drop your pants and literally have sex with (not on - with) a fresh grave; the fact that's not the part of his performance everyone is talking about should give you some idea of what you're in for with Saltburn.

- Anthony Morris

Tuesday 28 November 2023

Review: Silent Night

A good Christmas action movie - and there aren't that many of them - keeps the Christmas side of things to a minimum. A bit of tinsel here, an exploding Christmas tree there: once you've established the ironic contrast between goodwill and a good kill, move on. A tacky jumper and a bad guy in a Santa jacket aside, Silent Night is barely holiday themed at all. If it wasn't for a calendar with KILL THEM ALL written across December 24, you wouldn't even know it's Christmas.

So it's not the holiday that gives this its title. Rather, it's the bullet to the throat that suburban dad Brian Godlock (Joel Kinnaman) takes in the opening sequence that removes his voice - and seemingly everyone else's, as this is basically dialogue-free for the 90-odd minutes plus credits run time. There's the occasional distant shout, some radio chat and a few text messages, but otherwise, as Elvis once put it, it's all about a little less conversation, a little more action please.

This isn't a new trick. The direct to streaming horror film No One Will Save You pulled it off earlier this year, though that had the advantage of being set over a handful of days in a sparsely populated stretch of countryside. Silent Night takes place over an entire year, from one bloody holiday season to the next, as Godlock recovers from his wounds - taken while chasing down and almost wiping out the drive-by shooters whose stray bullets killed his son - then trains himself up to be the ultimate killing machine while his wife (Catalina Sandino Moreno) drifts away, before he finally hits the streets of his Texas town for a night of violent revenge aimed directly at local scumbag Playa (Harold Torres) and his army of nameless goons.

It's a pretty shaky premise, but Silent Night has a secret weapon. It's the return to US shores of director John Woo, last seen in English-language cinema with 2003's Paycheck but remembered forever for Hong Kong classics like The Killer and Hardboiled alongside his one American great, Face/Off.

Despite his undeniable skill at staging action, Woo was always a poor fit for Hollywood. In part that's because he doesn't do irony; whatever his films flaws, they're always achingly sincere and blatantly emotional in a way that blockbusters then (and to a large extent now) have tried to avoid. 

Here though, he's making a Christmas movie about a grieving father; sincerity and emotion come with the territory. So while the broad outlines of this story are exactly what you expect and there are absolutely no surprises whatsoever, it's the little moments - and Woo's undeniable skill when it comes to action - that pack a punch. Godlock is driven to revenge (and to buy a cool car to do it in), but that doesn't mean he likes it, and Kinnaman gets to pull a lot of anguished and tormented faces as he takes his pain and shares it around.

Because there's no dialogue, the storytelling has to be entirely visual. Again, this plays to Woo's strengths as a film maker who tells it like he sees it. Much of the pleasure here comes from simply watching someone get good at what they're trying to do; we're well past the halfway mark before Godlock's extensive training starts being put to use.

Action cinema has come a long way since Woo was making A Better Tomorrow, but it's still a lot of fun seeing the old master revive the old standards. Does someone use two guns to turn a bad guy into a sieve? Of course. Is there a moment with a fluttering bird? Naturally. And as for the power of brotherhood - or just two previous foes realising in the middle of a gunfight that they can only rely on each other - it's a valuable message no matter what time of year.

But those moments are brief, little more than nods to the longtime fans. Woo is telling a story, not serving up a greatest hits show, and while this is definitely a John Woo film it's the full throttle emotions as much as the relentless and visceral violence that shows his stamp.

Put another way, this is the rare recent revenge rampage that dares to suggest that extreme violence might be a bad thing, and that murdering a whole lot of people might leave you feeling empty inside. It's that willingness to tell a story that's full of cartoon cliche bad guys and raw emotion, and not just having to shoot bad guys a dozen times to make sure they don't get back up, that makes Silent Night a classic John Woo movie.

Though there is a fair bit of that in there too.

- Anthony Morris