It’s a set-up more sugary than a bag of Hollywood donuts: uptight, no-nonsense chef Kate (Catherine Zeta-Jones) runs her Manhattan restaurant’s kitchen with an iron fist until her sister dies in an off-camera car crash and makes Kate the guardian of her adorable nine year-old Zoe (Abigail Breslin). When juggling child care and culinary duties proves a handful for Kate, her boss hires her a new assistant, the handsome and carefree Nick (Aaron Eckhart). He’s Kate’s opposite in every way, and if you can’t see where this is heading you just might need glasses.
Before you start groaning, rest assured that Australian director Scott Hicks (Shine) fights a constant battle against the sappy sentiment that runs through this film’s script like thick treacle. More often than not he succeeds. Kate thankfully doesn't become a magic mommy overnight, and for the most part Zoe remains a little girl grieving for her dead mother. Having a cast way better than the lines they’re required to say also improves things greatly, and all three main cast members bring a lot more to their characters than they strictly require. Don’t see this on an empty stomach: the food alone earns it an extra half-star.
Anthony Morris
Tuesday, 28 August 2007
The Home Song Stories
Bad mothers make intriguing characters, and Shanghai nightclub-singer Rose (Joan Chen) is certainly no saint. She drags her two children from Hong Kong, to Melbourne, to Sydney and then back to Melbourne again, shacking up with a sequence of unsuitable ‘uncles’. She’s glamorous, vain and mentally unstable. Yet for her 11 year-old son Tom (Joel Lok) and his older sister Mai (Irene Chen) she’s never quite monstrous enough to hate. It’s hard not to admire her as she strides through ugly 1970s suburbia in her jewel-coloured cheong-sams, cooking up spicy fare and collecting lovers half her age.
Written and directed by Tony Ayres (Walking on Water) and based on his own reminiscences about ‘the year that changed my life’, this film could have been depressing and deeply disturbing. Yet for the most part, the tone is gently humorous. Sumptuous unhurried cinematography by Nigel Bluck could almost be referencing In The Mood for Love, and a score by Antony Partos recreates a retro ‘little China’ atmosphere. Occasionally the film veers close to self-indulgence – particularly in the closing scenes, but a light touch and a collection of superb performances make it a memorable and entertaining variation on the migration story.
Rochelle Siemienowicz
Written and directed by Tony Ayres (Walking on Water) and based on his own reminiscences about ‘the year that changed my life’, this film could have been depressing and deeply disturbing. Yet for the most part, the tone is gently humorous. Sumptuous unhurried cinematography by Nigel Bluck could almost be referencing In The Mood for Love, and a score by Antony Partos recreates a retro ‘little China’ atmosphere. Occasionally the film veers close to self-indulgence – particularly in the closing scenes, but a light touch and a collection of superb performances make it a memorable and entertaining variation on the migration story.
Rochelle Siemienowicz
Once
The world has lost faith in traditional movie musicals. Somehow it’s no longer acceptable for characters to burst into song and dance – unless they’re parodying Hollywood’s heyday or they’re the cute creations of an animators’ studio. Yet this little Irish film, shot on a shoestring and featuring non-professional actors, manages to be a moving musical love story that’s wholly believable and totally unpretentious.
A young man (known only as ‘the guy’) stands on Dublin’s busy street corners, playing his guitar and singing. The sounds he makes are almost painful – heartfelt but unpolished, strident with desperation. As he’s busking into the chaos, he’s approached by a poor young Czech woman (‘the girl’) selling roses – and in one scene, copies of The Big Issue. She’s a new immigrant, struggling to support her mother and baby daughter, but she has a secret talent. When the pair wander into a music store, she sits down at the piano and begins to play. Guy and girl begin to pick out a tune together, their two voices, and two instruments combining into a tentative but hauntingly beautiful harmony. And so, in the coming weeks, they talk, sing, and write some songs together, with their story climaxing in an intense and cathartic weekend at a borrowed recording studio.
The film’s authentic feel is augmented by the fact that its two lead actors are accomplished musicians who’ve previously collaborated. The guy is Glen Hansard, lead singer of the acclaimed and popular Irish rock band The Frames. The girl is Czech singer and pianist Marketa Irglova. Just seventeen years old at the time of shooting, she’d already recorded ‘The Swell Season’ an album of duets with Hansard. With her strong accent, her big-nosed natural beauty and her brave innocence, Irglova makes this film sing – both literally and metaphorically.
Directed by John Carney (On the Edge) – an ex-Frames’ bass player – Once is shot in realistic almost-documentary style. The music takes centre stage, comprising at least two thirds of the film’s time, yet it’s never too much. You want more of these sweet heart-tingling songs with their memory-imprinting minor-chord refrains and their simple poetic lyrics that never strain too much in their intent to underline the plot’s wispy narrative thread. Once is quite simply one of the best films you’ll see about the creative collaborative process.
Rochelle Siemienowicz
A young man (known only as ‘the guy’) stands on Dublin’s busy street corners, playing his guitar and singing. The sounds he makes are almost painful – heartfelt but unpolished, strident with desperation. As he’s busking into the chaos, he’s approached by a poor young Czech woman (‘the girl’) selling roses – and in one scene, copies of The Big Issue. She’s a new immigrant, struggling to support her mother and baby daughter, but she has a secret talent. When the pair wander into a music store, she sits down at the piano and begins to play. Guy and girl begin to pick out a tune together, their two voices, and two instruments combining into a tentative but hauntingly beautiful harmony. And so, in the coming weeks, they talk, sing, and write some songs together, with their story climaxing in an intense and cathartic weekend at a borrowed recording studio.
The film’s authentic feel is augmented by the fact that its two lead actors are accomplished musicians who’ve previously collaborated. The guy is Glen Hansard, lead singer of the acclaimed and popular Irish rock band The Frames. The girl is Czech singer and pianist Marketa Irglova. Just seventeen years old at the time of shooting, she’d already recorded ‘The Swell Season’ an album of duets with Hansard. With her strong accent, her big-nosed natural beauty and her brave innocence, Irglova makes this film sing – both literally and metaphorically.
Directed by John Carney (On the Edge) – an ex-Frames’ bass player – Once is shot in realistic almost-documentary style. The music takes centre stage, comprising at least two thirds of the film’s time, yet it’s never too much. You want more of these sweet heart-tingling songs with their memory-imprinting minor-chord refrains and their simple poetic lyrics that never strain too much in their intent to underline the plot’s wispy narrative thread. Once is quite simply one of the best films you’ll see about the creative collaborative process.
Rochelle Siemienowicz
Monday, 30 July 2007
Shut Up and Sing
In 2003, just as the first bombs were about to hit Baghdad, Natalie Maines, lead singer of the Dixie Chicks, announced to a London audience that she was ashamed that President Bush came from Texas. Whoops, cheers and applause. But Maines’ joking protest sparked outrage across America. Radio stations stopped playing the Chicks’ music, fans trashed their CDs and Maines herself received death threats. So much for freedom of speech.
This excellent documentary by Barbara Kopple (who gave us the brilliant Woody Allen music doco Wild Man Blues) charts the three year journey of the Chicks. We see the three spunky gals go from being chart-topping Country Western superstars, to reviled pariahs. Finally, there’s their reinvention as tortured artists who write their own heartfelt songs that transcend genre boundaries.
The beauty of this film lies in its portrait of a trio of sexy, talented, outspoken women who refuse to be silenced. They stand united and make their music – all the while managing their multi-million dollar ‘brand’, their marriages and their young children – seven between them. Yes, there’s swagger and bravado here – particularly from the fabulously charismatic Maines. But mostly, its just ego-free honesty and true courage. Good old-fashioned American values.
Rochelle Siemienowicz
This excellent documentary by Barbara Kopple (who gave us the brilliant Woody Allen music doco Wild Man Blues) charts the three year journey of the Chicks. We see the three spunky gals go from being chart-topping Country Western superstars, to reviled pariahs. Finally, there’s their reinvention as tortured artists who write their own heartfelt songs that transcend genre boundaries.
The beauty of this film lies in its portrait of a trio of sexy, talented, outspoken women who refuse to be silenced. They stand united and make their music – all the while managing their multi-million dollar ‘brand’, their marriages and their young children – seven between them. Yes, there’s swagger and bravado here – particularly from the fabulously charismatic Maines. But mostly, its just ego-free honesty and true courage. Good old-fashioned American values.
Rochelle Siemienowicz
Thursday, 26 July 2007
I Have Never Forgotten You
For decades Nazi-hunter Simon Wiesenthal was a regular figure on the world stage, a constant reminder of the need to bring war criminals to justice. A one-time architect who was sent to the Nazi concentration camps and lost his entire family bar his wife there, he spent the rest of his life working from a small office in Vienna collecting information on war criminal sightings and publicising the need to keep vigilant.
This thorough biography benefits enormously from the many televised interviews Wiesenthal gave in the latter part of his life, and slightly less enormously from a limp
narration by Nicole Kidman. For a documentary made by the Simon Wiesenthal Center this is refreshingly honest about its subject, especially regarding the various controversies that surrounded Wiesenthal’s work.
His refusal to condemn Austrian leader Kurt Waldheim and his mistakes regarding the death of Josef Mengele may have damaged his credibility in some eyes, but their inclusion here only strengthens this portrait of a engaging man driven by a desire for justice it’s hard not to admire. Plus conspiracy buffs should enjoy how almost every Nazi Wiesenthal identified who managed to escape confinement died very, very soon afterwards of a heart attack.
Anthony Morris
This thorough biography benefits enormously from the many televised interviews Wiesenthal gave in the latter part of his life, and slightly less enormously from a limp
narration by Nicole Kidman. For a documentary made by the Simon Wiesenthal Center this is refreshingly honest about its subject, especially regarding the various controversies that surrounded Wiesenthal’s work.
His refusal to condemn Austrian leader Kurt Waldheim and his mistakes regarding the death of Josef Mengele may have damaged his credibility in some eyes, but their inclusion here only strengthens this portrait of a engaging man driven by a desire for justice it’s hard not to admire. Plus conspiracy buffs should enjoy how almost every Nazi Wiesenthal identified who managed to escape confinement died very, very soon afterwards of a heart attack.
Anthony Morris
Monday, 2 April 2007
God on my Side
Fans of Andrew Denton's pre-Enough Rope comedy work could be forgiven for expecting God on my Side to be a savage comedy take-down of the Religious Right. But Denton's moved one since then, and this restrained effort isn't interested in making fun of the often extreme and sometimes unsettling views held by those visiting the 63rd National Religious Broadcaster's Convention at the Gaylord Convention Centre in Dallas, Texas. Rather, a respectful and subdued Denton comes to them with a genuine interest in finding out what makes these committed Christians tick, and in the process comes away with a lot more insight into what motivates the people who put George Bush into power twice than he would have uncovered by cracking jokes. Denton's visit to the 2006 NRB convention was originally meant for an episode of Enough Rope (only in post-production was it expanded into Denton's first ever feature-length documentary) and it's limited origins show in this 75 minute film's slow start and video-quality footage. But Denton's gentle questioning of Bible salesmen, evangelists, religious sculptors, marketing experts and Mumps the preaching puppet, eventually gets to the heart of the matter: seeing the near-universal condemnation of all other personal choices on the grounds that they're '"not God's way" pure and simple is chilling viewing.
Anthony Morris
Wednesday, 22 November 2006
Borat:Cultural learnings of America for make benefit of glorious nation of Kazakhstan
In case you’ve been buried alive for the last month, Kazakhstan journalist Borat is the creation of UK comedian Sasha Baron Cohen. He’s a guileless anti-Semite who asks shocking questions under cover of coming from a land where they don't know any better. Until now he’s been confined to short sketches in Cohen's various Ali G TV series; given eighty minutes to stretch out in, he’s created the funniest film of the year.
The plot sends Borat from his cartoony homeland to New York to make a documentary. There he falls in love with Pamela Anderson and travels cross-country to California to make her his wife. It’s a thin justification for a series of stunning skits in which Borat mocks both cultural stereotypes and clueless Americans. But as the film goes on it becomes increasingly difficult to tell the staged moments from the real ones, giving the film a giddy feel unlike other reality prank films.
Clearly some moments are too bizarre to be ‘real’ - but where do you draw the line? Time and again you’re left wondering if you really saw what you thought you did. Which makes for a great excuse to see this hysterical film again.
Anthony Morris
The plot sends Borat from his cartoony homeland to New York to make a documentary. There he falls in love with Pamela Anderson and travels cross-country to California to make her his wife. It’s a thin justification for a series of stunning skits in which Borat mocks both cultural stereotypes and clueless Americans. But as the film goes on it becomes increasingly difficult to tell the staged moments from the real ones, giving the film a giddy feel unlike other reality prank films.
Clearly some moments are too bizarre to be ‘real’ - but where do you draw the line? Time and again you’re left wondering if you really saw what you thought you did. Which makes for a great excuse to see this hysterical film again.
Anthony Morris
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