Category Archives: EdFestivals 2018 – Reviews

All our reviews from the 2018 festivals.

Hamilton (Lewis) (Assembly George Square: 1-26 Aug: 21:30: 60 mins)

Posted in 3*, EdFestivals 2018, EdFestivals 2018 – Reviews, Musical Theatre by

“A good fun show”

Editorial Rating: 3 Stars: Nae Bad

How does a bastardised musical, shown in a hall in Scotland, drop in the story of a driver and take top spot with the audiences in Edinburgh?

For me, London’s King’s Head Theatre easily take pole position with this compelling concept for a show – telling Formula 1 driver Lewis Hamilton’s life story in the style of hit (and very current) musical Hamilton. There are many crossovers to be made, and how figures within the driver’s life seem to fit into Hamilton’s character list is almost uncanny, making it an intelligent move with some decent thought behind it. The opening rap number introducing the main man is an impressive homage to the original, setting up a potentially thrilling and funny performance.

Yet what follows unfortunately feels quite rushed and clompy, lacking the narrative arc required to make it feel like a complete piece – the ending in particular feels like the writers just ran out of ideas and decided to quit while they were ahead.

In saying that, there are plenty of references to Lin-Manuel Miranda’s smash hit throughout, with lyrics, characters, and musical motifs (that die-hard Hamilton fans will appreciate) woven in seamlessly. The bulk of the music, however, more closely resembles run-of-the-mill musical theatre, and it’s a shame there isn’t more stylistic overlap with the original. Perhaps erring on the side of caution of not getting sued for copyright reasons comes into play here, but it’s a shame a few more risks aren’t taken to draw more parallels.

The cast are a talented bunch, and well suited to the roles they take on. They each make the most of the comedy inherent within the production and pleasingly don’t take themselves too seriously given the overall feel of the piece. It’s a big ask for four actors to bring the energy and power required to create the sense of epic storytelling Hamilton excels at, and occasionally the action falls a little flat between musical numbers, making it hard to stick with it.

What doesn’t help with the plodding nature of the piece is the very simple staging, and lack of interaction with the set and props decorating the space. The direction (like the script) feels very rushed just to get the show on, and more creativity with the space and better integration of performance and design would help give the piece a more professional feel.

This is a good fun show, but just feels unfinished.

 

nae bad_blue

Star (blue)Star (blue)Star (blue)

—

Reviewer: Steve Griffin (Seen 1 August)

THIS REVIEW HAS NOT BEEN SUBEDITED

EIFF: “In Darkness” (28 June ’18)

Posted in 3*, Books & Film, EdFestivals 2018, EdFestivals 2018 – Reviews, Other, Rated: Nae Bad by

“A daringly twisty, commendably unpredictable erotic thriller with much more to it than meets the eye.”

Editorial Rating: 3 Stars: Nae Bad

If and when you watch In Darkness, you will think a lot of thoughts. Many of them might go something like “What just happened?” or “What am I watching?” or “Is this all the same movie?” but suffice it to say that this daringly twisty, commendably unpredictable erotic thriller has much, much more to it than meets the eye. That is not always a good thing, as the film spends most of its runtime running off the rails of its supposed ‘plot,’ but I would be lying if I said it wasn’t an entertaining trip.

The film was written by real-life partners Anthony Byrne and Natalie Dormer; Byrne directs, Dormer stars. If you are fan of Ms. Dormer’s, possibly from her star turns in Game of Thrones or the Hunger Games franchise, then you will enjoy this film. It is a star-vehicle through and through, with nearly every shot focusing on some part of Dormer, whether her striking face or nimble physicality. Notably, Dormer proves her mettle as a very capable lead actress, and this film makes a solid case for more female-led stories written by the actresses themselves; Dormer’s character, Sofia, is a well-rounded and trustworthy focal point of the story, flitting through classy and dangerous scenarios with grace and thrilling movement. 

If only the story was as well-rounded and trustworthy. Heavens, what a license Dormer and Byrne’s story takes with the audience’s suspension of disbelief! After a striking, standout title sequence (which sets the stage excellently for a slick, exciting thriller to come), we are introduced to Sofia, a blind musician who glides around London with remarkable street smarts and style. The first 20-25 minutes continue like this, with a rich aesthetic palette and a fun, knife-edge sense of building danger. Her upstairs neighbor Veronique (Emily Ratajkowski) is clearly wrapped up in some nasty business, and when she turns up dead on the pavement outside their building, the plot thickens with Hitchcockian craftiness. Who killed her and why are the setup for the rest of the film’s twists and turns, but without spoiling anything, let me forewarn you that Veronique quickly becomes old news in favor of a much scummier, more complicated spider’s web of crime and revenge. 

For the first leg of In Darkness, the film makes a truly riveting imitation of classic Hitchcock and Wait Until Dark-esque blind-character craftwork — especially in a tense, nail-biting scene where assassin Marc (Ed Skrein) intends to kill Sofia for what she has seen, but notices her blindness and decides to follow her around her apartment in silence. Scenes like these are so fun and well crafted that the later dramatic shifts in tone and focus are more unfortunate than thrilling — there is a notable shift from Hitchcock to Jason Bourne all of a sudden that undoes a great deal of the film’s accomplishments with head-scratching intensity. 

Ultimately, that is the central problem of In Darkness — it has so many fetching elements to it, from the compelling star to the vintage first chapter to the stupendous use of music (again, only up until the tone change), yet it keeps undoing all that commendable work with silly plot twists. Twists, plural, mind you — each of which edge the film closer to completely undoing itself. As a fan of twists myself, I commend Dormer and Byrne’s ballsiness in their final few reveals, but I came out of the theatre feeling played for a fool, rather than hoodwinked by a clever storyteller. 

In Darkness is amusing genre excitement, and has potential as a twist-film highlight among those who enjoy just being confused, but it will mostly remind you how much better a straight-shooting classic crime thriller treats its own plot. Credit belongs to Natalie Dormer, however, for rooting it all in a fascinating lead — I can honestly say I would watch whatever she writes and stars in next. 

nae bad_blue

Star (blue)Star (blue)Star (blue)

Reviewer: Nathaniel Brimmer-Beller (Seen 28 June)

Go to In Darkness at the EIFF

EIFF: “Hearts Beat Loud” (30 June ’18)

Posted in 3*, Books & Film, EdFestivals 2018, EdFestivals 2018 – Reviews, Other, Rated: Unrated by

Credit: courtesy of Sundance Film Festival

“A sweet, caring hug of a movie.”

Editorial Rating: 3 Stars

Baristas. Beard oil. Acoustic sessions. Obscure pastries. Brooklyn. Brett Haley’s Hearts Beat Loud has no shortage of any of these. It is a sweet, caring hug of a movie. If you would like a nice time, and do not mind drowning in sweetness, you might enjoy it. If you find acoustic guitar soliloquies somewhat overrated, then you might want to spend your time some other way.

Haley’s film was supposedly crafted as a “response” to all the disgusting behavior coming out of the White House and other assorted American institutions — to his credit, the film bathes itself in the loveliest versions of American city life it can imagine, from an adorable record store to a biracial family to a deeply loving father-daughter dynamic to a healthy dose of LGBT positivity. These are all, don’t get me wrong, very good things, and especially in these times when calls for more diversity in the film world are met with pathetically backwards ignorance. Haley has done very well to color his film the way he has. Thankfully, Hearts Beat Loud does show more darkly realistic sides as well, for example: the record store, owned by father Frank Fisher (Nick Offerman), is running out of money and time; Frank has had to raise his daughter Sam (Kiersey Clemons) alone as his wife passed away in a bike accident years before; Sam is going to UCLA, on the other side of the country, which means her fledgling summer love is destined to come to an unfortunately early end. All these are solid plot points, yet despite them, the film just cannot quite graduate out of the sickly-sweet genre into genuine character drama at any point. 

The plot follows Frank as he decides he has to close his store, Red Hook Records, in order to pay for Sam’s college. In a cute attempt to cheer himself and his daughter up, Frank drags Sam to their “jam sesh” room, where Sam plays a few lines from a song she wrote earlier that day. They record the song with their inexplicably state-of-the-art home studio (this, from a man who later claims to ‘not have a penny’ to his name), and Frank covertly uploads it to Spotify. It becomes an overnight sensation, and although Sam would rather go to college than be in a band with her dad, Frank is torn whether they should try and go for success in the industry or continue living their local lives. 

Offerman and Clemons are the lifeblood of this film; without them it would truly have been an unremarkable experience. Offerman in particular taps into his talent for hilariously giddy facial expressions very well, and imbues Frank with serious charm and kindness. Clemons, after blowing us all away with her scene-stealing turn in Rick Famuyiwa’s mini-masterpiece Dope, is captivating as ever as Sam, particularly when she plays music and sings so darn well — mark my words, Clemons can seriously sing. Supporting them is a nice cast of characters with mostly nice performances; Blythe Danner is charming as Frank’s mischievous mother Marianne, Toni Collette and Ted Danson are fine as Frank’s adult friends, and Sasha Lane is alright but a little morose as Sam’s girlfriend Rose.

The hit song itself, titled, of course, “Hearts Beat Loud,” is a fun and catchy indie pop number that will probably get your toe tapping, and is genuinely well-written, but so like every other fun, catchy indie pop number that the effect is somewhat limited. Other than this track, however, the songs are either overwrought or twee as hell. One unintentionally funny scene comes when Frank tries to convince Sam they should play more music together by getting out his acoustic guitar and moaning out one of his old songs he wrote back in the day; the scene ends with Sam in tears at what a moving performance her father just gave, but, gosh, what a dull and unremarkable tune it was.

This is part of the issue with Hearts Beat Loud: it gives you nice feelings here and there, but a lot of the themes and plot beats are just not as ‘important’ as Haley seems to think they are. Take the way the script handles music itself: sure, artists like Mitski and Animal Collective are exceedingly talented musicians, but two scenes each featuring different characters describing how great they are is too much. Look at it this way: you know that feeling when someone describes a band to you that you don’t know all that well, and won’t stop telling you about them anyway? This film sounds like that, for 97 minutes. Couple that with an insufferable amount of Brooklyn-specific references and a pretty lame sense of humor, and that is the base of Hearts Beat Loud’s approach. (Side note: Haley seems to have inadvertently created a personification of what The Guardian called ‘The New Boring‘ – referring to perfectly harmless tunes and ‘beige pop’ tendencies that has taken over the music scene of the last few years – this is essentially the movie version.)

To be fair, there are moments that are compelling through and through. Offerman is on top form during the scene where he realizes the band has gone viral, the true comedic highlight of the film. The final performance has energy and style to spare. And yes, the central question of how Sam and Frank are going to handle their potential for transcendent music-making is quite interesting. (Although, it is a little insulting from time to time that the film seems to suggest Sam is considering not going to the medical school she has dreamed of since childhood to pursue playing indie pop with her dad instead … an infuriatingly stupid plot point that, if the film had ended a certain way, would have lowered this even farther in my regard.)

Overall, this is a forgettable film with some pleasant performances and a truly nice heart, for better or worse.

Star (blue)Star (blue)Star (blue)

Reviewer: Nathaniel Brimmer-Beller (Seen 30 June)

Go to Hearts Beat Loud at the EIFF

 

EIFF: “Humor Me” (28 June ’18)

Posted in 3*, Books & Film, EdFestivals 2018, EdFestivals 2018 – Reviews, Other, Rated: Nae Bad by

Image courtesy of LA Film Festival

“Explores the relationship between fatherhood, responsibility, and humor with grace.”

Editorial Rating: 3 Stars: Nae Bad

A warning to all who see this film: you will be telling and re-telling all the giddily awful jokes and one-liners within it to yourself and whoever will listen for days to come. Sam Hoffman’s Humor Me is a mixed bag of thin plotting, some uneven performances, and a few touching moments, but its elaborate jests are a laudable standout. As a relatively well-crafted, harmless dramedy, it satisfies.

The film stars New Zealand comedy goldmine Jemaine Clement as Nate, a self-doubting playwright, who hits rock bottom all at once and must move in to a retirement home community with his father Bob, played by the legendary Elliott Gould. Lowbrow yet brilliant jokes are Bob’s stock and trade, and Hoffman must be commended for the reverent way he realizes the elaborate scenarios the setups describe. Humor Me opens in striking monochrome, with vintage music and sound, all amusingly presented as if it is meant for a different film entirely, until Gould’s voiceover begins and it becomes clear this is all leading towards an elaborate punchline. These visuals return every time a particularly long-winded joke is delivered, and the effect is far and away the most memorable and creative aspect Humor Me has to offer. Not to imply that the film is otherwise dithering, far from it, yet nothing quite fits together as well as these scenes.

Clement is a pleasant lead, albeit with a slightly strangled delivery here and there, which can be forgiven as his American accent is not his natural lilt. Gould is certainly a standout for his layered portrayal of the aging jokester, especially in later scenes of conflict; two quite moving examples can be found in moments where Nate questions how Bob has moved on after his wife’s passing, for one, and most notably when they re-watch a VHS of Nate’s first play, which includes, and indicts, an all-too-familiar joking father who seems to ignore pressing problems within his own family. In scenes like these, the film explores the relationship between fatherhood, responsibility, and humor with grace. 

However, the weaker sides of the film are unfortunately hard to overlook. While the monochrome joke-telling segments are delightful, most of the rest of the comedic lines are just not all that funny. To paraphrase an ‘SNL’ (NBC’s Saturday Night Live) zinger, the lines are funny, but not “ha-ha” funny. The whole script is reminiscent of the kind of neurotic-chic off-Broadway play that Nate himself works on within the film, yet it is unclear whether Hoffman finds this style laughable or laudable. The title of Nate’s first play, A Crack In the Clouds, and the way he speaks about theatre in general, are so pretentious that one would think Hoffman is making a joke about derivative, self-important writing, yet the film itself has lines and scenarios just as irritatingly overwrought as the plays he seems to be mocking. One montage in particular, set to the song “Be Ok” by Ingrid Michaelson (who plays supporting love interest Allison fairly well) is just so twee I thought I would implode. Michaelson’s character, and the character of Nate’s ex-wife (played by Maria Dizzia), are also low points in the script; with the exception of some very amusing old ladies, most of the female characters are complete afterthoughts or stereotypes, particularly the ‘heartless ex-wife’ schtick, personified in a character so unbelievably cold and uncaring that one might reasonably think Hoffman has a serious hang-up about ex-wives. 

Hoffman, previous to his filmmaking career, was well-known as the creator of popular podcast Old Jews Telling Jokes, which is everything it says on the tin. It comes as no surprise then that this, his feature debut, is basically Old Jews Telling Jokes: The Movie, but if that sounds up your street, then by all means give the overall pleasant Humor Me a go. 

nae bad_blue

Star (blue)Star (blue)Star (blue)

Reviewer: Nathaniel Brimmer-Beller (Seen 28 June)

Go to Humor Me at the EIFF

EIFF: “Papillon” (22 June ’18)

Posted in 3*, Books & Film, EdFestivals 2018, EdFestivals 2018 – Reviews, Rated: Nae Bad by

“Quite compelling.”

Editorial Rating: 3 Stars: Nae Bad

This film is, conspicuously, a remake. Not in the sense that it broadcasts its similarities and differences to the original, (in this case the 1973 version of Henri Charrière’s seminal autobiography), like some decades-later remakes do, but in the sense that it simply re-makes the first. This begs a question which Michael Noer’s new Papillon never quite answers: why was this film made?

The action follows a dashing Paris criminal known as ‘Papillon’ (Charlie Hunnam), cracking safes in style in 1931, as he gets some brutal comeuppance for swindling his boss, and is framed for murder. His sentence is life in prison, specifically an overwhelmingly horrible penal colony in French Guiana. There, and over the next few decades, he attempts various escapes through a partnership with wealthy but weak Louis Dega (Rami Malek), and experiences disturbing and inhumane treatment from the prison’s guards and higher-ups. The kicker is that it’s all based on a true story, by the real Henri ‘Papillon’ Charrière, whose book of the events, published in 1969, has sold over 13 million copies worldwide.  Charrière was pardoned of murder in 1970.

There is a confusion to Noer’s film, however, for on its surface, it is quite compelling, but underneath, it is really just a re-done version of a film that has already been made. Steve McQueen and Dustin Hoffman embodied the roles of Papillon and Dega, respectively, in Franklin J. Schaffner’s original, which, though not considered a great film, is still a notable work in American depictions of agony in incarceration. Noer’s film has cinematic agony to spare, and at times verges into outright body horror as Papillon and others are starved, savagely beaten and whipped, and in some cases dismembered and murdered. It’s not a very fun time for anyone.

Yet, despite the aspects that befuddle and disgust, Papillon delivers some affecting cinema here and there. The casting should be commended above all else; Hunnam and Malek are without a doubt two of the most capable yet underused leading men onscreen today, and it is very satisfying to watch them play off each other. Hunnam continues to impress with his ability to flaunt his physicality and his grim charm, and for fans of his star turn in James Gray’s underrated The Lost City of Z, this film will not disappoint. Yet it is Malek who stands out the most remarkably here, and his Dega, weak-chinned but crafty, might be one of the more memorable characters of this entire festival so far.

In terms of craft, Danish director Noer makes some odd choices, but none really take away too deleteriously. One qualm I had is the complete lack of establishing shots in the first half of the visuals — in a film so focused on a hellish jungle landscape, it is strange that the camera focuses more on medium shots in quite random succession. Until we get one breathtaking shot of the South American sunset on a river, followed by another strange bout of shots where a small boat at sea takes up three quarters of the frame, and an ensuing storm is relegated to a distant speck. Perhaps these are all intentional distortions of what we expect to see, but it struck me more as unsuccessful attempts to shoot around a small effects budget, which detracts from the epic nature of this decades-long story. Nevertheless, the film may be slow, but it is not boring; it is odd but not off-putting — unnecessary, but not unwelcome.

nae bad_blue

Star (blue)Star (blue)Star (blue)

 

Reviewer: Nathaniel Brimmer-Beller (Seen 22 June)

Go to Papillon at the EIFF here

 

EIFF: “Incredibles 2” (22 June’18)

Posted in 4*, Books & Film, EdFestivals 2018, EdFestivals 2018 – Reviews, Rated: Outstanding by

Walt Disney Studios Motion Pictures / Everett

“A true standout in action-excitement filmmaking.”

Editorial Rating: 4 Stars

There are a lot of superhero movies out there. I don’t need to explain the various cinematic universes that have quite efficiently conquered pop culture the world over in the past fifteen years or so. They are high-budget, immaculately shiny, and absolutely stuffed with characters  – and bombast. Yet despite the immense success of these high-concept sequels, in many ways Pixar’s own superhero sequel, Incredibles 2, leapfrogs way over their heads and delivers one of the most genuinely exciting, eye-popping cape-and-cowl films of them all. (Even though, of course,  there are no capes.)

Brad Bird returns to the director’s chair, fifteen years after creating the widely beloved original, which dropped viewers into a retrofuturistic world where ‘Supers’ are made illegal after a one too many superpowered scuffle totals a great deal of infrastructure. Incredibles 2 picks up seconds after the first one ended, finally letting all of us who wondered just how the titular family would deal with The Underminer, all those years ago, see the fight in full. Of course, even more infrastructure is totaled, so the Supers are run underground yet again. Not long after, a shiny-toothed businessman (Bob Odenkirk) and his mysterious sister (Catherine Keener) join the story and offer to help the family, and all Supers, become legal again and protect the city unrestricted. 

What separates the Incredibles films from others of their genre, in both cases, is the heavy focus on the actual people under the suits. Bob Parr, a.k.a. Mr. Incredible (Craig T. Nelson), is back and funnier than ever, as this time he is overshadowed by his much more marketable wife, Helen Parr, a.k.a. Elastigirl (Holly Hunter). In a quite timely and interesting turn of approach, the business siblings, (and, notably, the film itself) specifically decide to push the female-leadership angle as more compelling to “today’s” audience, and put Elastigirl front and center in most of the film’s breathtaking action set pieces. 

Consequently, the greatest takeaways Incredibles 2 has to offer are indeed these stupendous sequences. One helicopter chase in particular struck me instantly as the most exciting superhero set piece I’ve seen in a while, (and I, unsheepishly, am a die-hard MCU fan). Though Disney had some apologizing to do for not warning patrons of a particularly strobe-lit scene, the scene in question is action film lighting at its absolute best, with the eerie villain textured with an utmost nightmarish quality, producing quite unnerving visuals. The groundbreaking studio’s penchant for industry-best animation is on display yet again; just try not to swoon when a glass of water is placed down, even in the corner of the frame, and the bubbles and minuscule waves in the surface are given every pixel of detail you would see in real life. These details, and the heights the animation can reach, make Incredibles 2 a true standout in action-excitement filmmaking.

On a slightly different note, the other side of the animation and craft being so exemplary is that one notices when the story stalls here and there, which happens more often than not. The plot ‘twists’ are  … predictable! The jokes are mostly recycled from the first film, and though that is for the most part very welcome — for The Incredibles is one of the most daring animated ‘children’s’ films of all time, I’d say — some do make one wonder if Bird and company just forgot to write more material. The ending, in particular, feels like they ran out of time, especially when compared to the layered, satisfying final beats of the first. Plus, I hesitate to mention it, but the ‘Frozone’s hilariously sassy offscreen Black wife’ joke is not only tired, but getting kind of distasteful, and it is no surprise that in this film she is relegated to a quick line, as a callback. (Notably, somehow, though Incredibles 2 introduces a wide array of new Supers big and small, with the exception of the offscreen spouse, there are no Black women in the whole thing. Odd.)

Altogether, however, Incredibles 2 is good fun, and a pleasant continuation of the jauntiness and aesthetics of the brilliant first go round. Michael Giacchino’s score is still excellent, opting for a more noir sheen alongside his memorable and delightful main theme for the fantastic family. Bird has done well, albeit by doing what he already knew. 

outstanding

StarStarStarStar

Reviewer: Nathaniel Brimmer-Beller (Seen 22 June)

Go to Incredibles 2 at the EIFF

 

EIFF: “Cold War”, UK Premiere, 21 June ’18.

Posted in 5*, Books & Film, EdFestivals 2018, EdFestivals 2018 – Reviews, Rated: Outstanding by

“One of the best films of the year. “

Editorial Rating: 5 Stars: Outstanding

Pawel Pawlikowski has crafted a film that breathes life into multiple mid-century time periods and settings with the ease and authority of a master instrumentalist at play. Cold War, though not his first feature, is the Polish director’s second in a row shot in meticulously framed, gorgeously composed Academy-ratio monochrome. This approach began with the immensely celebrated Ida, which won the Academy Award for Best Foreign Language Film in 2015; yet while Ida’s plotting and method achieve their affecting levels of character development and artistic storytelling through a more bleak, distanced tone, Pawlikowski has imbued his latest with a pleasant amount of levity, joy, cinematic tricks, and transcendent musical sequences. It is no understatement to say Cold War ought to be regarded as one of the best films of the year. 

The story follows fifteen years of two parallel paths: that of complicated, tragically-fated lovers Wiktor and Zula, and that of complicated, tragically-fated Poland itself. The first scenes follow Wiktor (Tomasz Kot) and his team as they traverse the Polish mountain area in 1949, as part of a post-war effort to reinvigorate national pride through revitalizing traditional music. Through their search for singers and dancers for a government-sponsored traveling troupe, Wiktor meets Zula (Joanna Kulig), a captivating and immensely talented young woman, whose beauty is complemented well by her snarky wit. (During her singing audition for the troupe, she is told by Wiktor’s colleague that they have heard enough, to which she responds “Just the chorus,” and plows ahead, singing over the ‘Halt’ order — an example of the film’s wry and welcome sense of humour.) Their romance develops as the troupe’s tour radius grows larger and larger, encompassing more and more of the Soviet Union, until they are so well-known that the government decides to use them as a mouthpiece for its propagandic interests. More humour, albeit a darker tone of it, is on display as a government official suggests that they edit the carefree and poetic lyrics of the age-old folk songs the troupe normally sings, to better acquaint the citizenry with the government’s achievements, such as agricultural reform. 

Pawlikowski explores these dichotomous paths — a growing, twisting romance and a gradually  darkening society — in masterful contrast. Stalinism creeps in the edges of the love story with a breathtaking and unnerving progression, at one point literally coming out of nowhere as a massive depiction of Stalin rises above the dancers with nightmarish grandeur in one of their later performances. Most remarkably, the story of Wiktor and Zula becomes intractably interwoven with the imbalanced levels of freedom and artistry inside and out of the Soviet Union, for as Wiktor longs to leave and stay out, so does Zula question where her home truly is, and should be, leading her to some ill-advised returns to hostile territory. The perverted display of the traditional dancers performing Stalinist messages is contrasted with the liberally expressive Parisian musical scene as the action shifts to the mid-fifties, with some pitch-perfect jazz sequences offering some of the most pleasant monochrome pieces of filmmaking in my memory. Whatever possessed Pawlikowski to include so many musical scenes, from the introduction of Paris through a jazz solo to Wiktor’s alarmingly cacophonic piano playing as he experiences great loss, to the magnificent sequence where Zula throws herself around a bar to the tune of “Rock Around the Clock” by Bill Haley & His Comets, and most briefly but beautifully in a romantic moment between the two as they share a dance to “Is You Is Or Is You Ain’t My Baby,” this film treats its soundtrack incredibly well.

Credit must also go to the leading couple of Kot and Kulig, who ground the artistry in their compelling faces and physicalities; there are times where entire monologues of meaning are delivered in a silent glance or movement of the face. Also remarkable are the supporting performers, who represent the world outside Wiktor and Zula’s bumpy romance, from the stocky government stooge with a surprising amount of heart, Kaczmarek (Borys Szyc), to the stern but defiant musical director Irena (Agata Kulesza) to the amusingly pretentious French poetess Juliette (Jeanne Balibar). 

It came as delightful news when Pawlikowski was awarded Best Director at this year’s Cannes Film Festival, where Cold War premiered, and where I first saw the film. At the time, I would have said it was pretty good, maybe a niche art film crowd will like it. But on second viewing, I must say Cold War is much more: just as riveting as it is beautiful, just as musical as it is dramatic, just as prestigious as it is fun. Highly recommended viewing — and an excellent example of last minute scheduling .

outstanding

StarStarStarStarStar

Reviewer: Nathaniel Brimmer-Beller (Seen 21 June)

Go to Cold War at the EIFF here

 

EIFF: “Ideal Home” (Odeon 2: 21 June ’18)

Posted in 4*, Books & Film, EdFestivals 2018, EdFestivals 2018 – Reviews, Other, Rated: Outstanding by

“Fresh and clever”

Editorial Rating: 4 Stars

Andrew Fleming (Hamlet 2) delivers a through-and-through feel-good movie, with the crucial help of a particularly bombastic Steve Coogan and chameleonic talent Paul Rudd. Though some of the dialogue could use some editing, the film nevertheless achieves that rare balance between genuinely delightful comedy and grounded social relevance.

The action begins as it means to go on. A scrappy man and his elementary-age son scramble to escape a motel room as the cops wait outside. With them is a woman complaining that the scumbag inside stole her Chanel purse, her Chanel purse. The burly officer, between bangs on the door, turns to comfort her, saying “Hey, hey, I get it, I have some Chanel loafers that I love, so I understand.” Ideal Home continues in this vein of fabulously sardonic charm, as the story pivots to flamboyant couple Erasmus Brumble (Coogan) and Paul (Paul Rudd), who are suddenly saddled with the son from the opening. His father, now in custody, is Erasmus’ son, meaning Erasmus and Paul are all of a sudden in charge of a grandson they didn’t know existed. While this setup — the sudden introduction of a child that must be raised — has been done before, Fleming, Coogan, Rudd, and Jack Gore, as the kid himself, manage to make Ideal Home feel fresh and clever, and a welcome new chapter in the “family comes in all shapes and sizes” genre.

The film is fairly straightforward in its approach; in fact its main downside is the formulaic feeling of some of the dialogue and supporting characters. There is a conspicuous debt owed to The Birdcage for its presentation of bombastic men in love who offer quotable quips back and forth and prove over and over that the line between love and hate can at times seem very, very thin. But unlike previous iterations of these types of stories, Fleming’s film seems purposefully dotted with genuinely dark interactions here and there, from sudden fights to tragic revelations to near breakdowns; serious implications between the ditzy laughs. This changeable emotional landscape not only keeps the audience on their toes, but successfully recalls the knife edge on which many a family interactions walks, when an argument is only a few careless words away from exploding.

In moments like those, especially, but truly in the entire film, Mr. Rudd must be given credit for his all-in performance as put-upon partner Paul. While Coogan performs with candour aplenty, he nevertheless puts forward yet another version of his ubiquitous narcissistic jerk character, with some added heart, but not much. Rudd, on the other hand, explores entirely riveting sides of his extensively likeable persona, and it is nice to see such a versatile actor given a chance to go beyond his normal smiley self and try lashing out and being scornful for a change. Ideal Home is not all scorn and argument, of course, and thankfully Fleming and his cast have found room for loads of side-splitting lines and situations that I highly recommend you see for yourself.

 

StarStarStarStar

 

Reviewer: Nathaniel Brimmer-Beller (Seen 21 June)

Go to Edinburgh International Film Festival here

(Ideal Home is showing today Saturday 23 June & Monday 25th. See EIFF programme for details)

 

 

EIFF: “Calibre” (Cineworld, 22 June ’18)

Posted in 2*, Books & Film, EdFestivals 2018, EdFestivals 2018 – Reviews, Other, Rated: Unrated by

Image: British Council.

“Notable style.”

Editorial Rating: 2 Stars

Writer-director Matt Palmer’s depiction of a rural Highland town and its inhabitants is not doing the Scottish tourism board any favours. His new film, Calibre, out on Netflix in a week, walks the line between outright horror and pulse-pounding masculine drama with notable style, and gives rising star Jack Lowden some seriously grisly meat to chew on. Overall, however, this tidy, affecting morality play with an impressive cast and excellent sound work cannot escape some garishly ill-devised plotting, a tiresome amount of doom and gloom, and a seriously terrible haircut. 

The fun begins in Edinburgh, as Vaughn (Lowden), kisses his pregnant wife goodbye for a weekend hunting in the Highlands with his lifelong friend Marcus (Martin McCann). Upon their arrival in the rural town, they cross paths with aggressive locals, dangerous women, and some surprisingly friendly contacts. Palmer builds a commendably unnerving sense of dread as every craggy corner in this middle-of-nowhere locale seems to possess some unseen malice, and the director’s horror influences are well-established early on. At times one expects some glowing eyes or demonic cackle to make an appearance but Palmer’s film avoids the supernatural in favor of the more horrifying type of evil: the one within man himself.

If that last line struck you as a bit much, take it as a test. If that sort of melodramatic meditation on evil! and honor! and truth! and shame! strikes you as a fun time, maybe you’d love Calibre. If the line “This can only be paid for in blood” doesn’t strike you as laughable, by all means get on Netflix on June 29th and stream this thing. 

Otherwise, take my word for it, this film is poorly measured. Lowden turns in another commendable performance as Vaughn, who commits a horrendous act completely by accident, which is so genuinely shocking that I won’t dare ruin the surprise when it comes. McCann is impressive as the cunning and duplicitous Marcus, who is unnervingly good at covering their tracks after the act, which implicates both of them in heinous wrongdoing and will completely destroy both their lives if discovered. Also delivering the goods is Tony Curran, a reliable presence on screen, who gives great depth to local leader Logan, who keeps the most brick-headed townsfolk from tearing the city boys to shreds just for being outsiders. 

Indeed, though most of the narrative follows the young men as they try to evade discovery, Calibre also has a lot to say about the relationship between rural and urban, rich and poor, privileged and underprivileged, strong and weak. Yet as the tension rises and the plot twists and yanks itself around, most of these ‘insights’ are either screamed at a frenzy worthy of Nicolas Cage’s choicest meltdowns, or growled with such Straw Dogs-esque menace, turned up to 11, that it comes off as silly rather than terrifying. This all culminates in a climactic setup so dour, so tastelessly brutal, that one cannot help but feel like they are watching Saw: Highlands Edition rather than the Hitchcockian crime thriller it packages itself as. Calibre does not ultimately earn its dourness, but rather just piles it on, in the hopes that grisliness will make up for lack of direction. (Not to mention, it is hard to have much sympathy for Vaughn when all his weeping and moaning is done while sporting such a revolting hairdo. But that might just be me.)

Palmer clearly has a nice grasp on how to build tension, and he is particularly impressive in his use of sound to set a scene. But Calibre would be vastly better if it knew how to release that tension in its final act without lazing into tasteless impulses. Skip it, I reckon.

Star (blue)Star (blue)

Reviewer: Nathaniel Brimmer-Beller (Seen 21 June)

Go to Edinburgh International Film Festival here

(Calibre is showing today, Saturday 23 June & on Saturday 30 June. See EIFF programme for venues.)

 

EIFF: “Puzzle” (Festival Theatre: 20 June’18)

Posted in 3*, Books & Film, EdFestivals 2018, EdFestivals 2018 – Reviews, Festival Theatre, Rated: Unrated by

“Genuinely affecting moments of liberation and subtle defiance.”

Editorial Rating: 3 Stars

Our first coverage of the film festival. Nathaniel Brimmer-Beller will keep them rolling.

As she addressed the gathered public at the opening screening of the 72nd Edinburgh International Film Festival on Wednesday, Kelly Macdonald expressed both gratitude — that her new film, Puzzle, directed by former producer Marc Turtletaub, was opening Scotland’s foremost film festival — and amusement that in it the Glasgow-born actress was playing an American. “I’m in nearly every frame of the film,” Macdonald continued, “so I’m sorry! But you’re in your seats and the doors are locked so you can’t leave now!”

From that introduction, one might expect Puzzle to be a point of embarrassment for the experienced actress. Macdonald has worked with talent as renowned as the Coen brothers (No Country for Old Men), Martin Scorsese (Boardwalk Empire), and Danny Boyle (Trainspotting, T2), yet Puzzle marks her first prominent, meaty leading role. Macdonald oughtn’t be embarrassed by her work in Turtletaub’s film, however, quite the opposite; yet by the time the credits roll, one is left wishing she was given more to do within all those frames. 

This, Turtletaub’s directorial debut, is a remake of Argentinian film Rompecabezas, directed by Natalia Smirnoff in 2009, and follows shrinking violet suburban housewife Agnes (Macdonald) as she gradually sheds the suffocating monotony of her daily life caring for her boorish husband (David Denman) and two insufferable teenage sons. In the film’s opening sequence, a stylistic high point in an otherwise unremarkable storytelling strategy, Agnes diligently weaves through a house party, existing in the background as her guests make a mess and ignore her. After a few minutes of watching her scrub and kowtow, Agnes reveals an impressive birthday cake, and the guests sing Happy Birthday to … her. Her servile existence at her own birthday celebration presents a perfect introduction to the character as a product of circumstance. As Agnes unwraps her presents, she finds a 1,000-piece puzzle, which, although average citizens remark it will take days to complete, she finishes within half an afternoon. Soon, she seeks out more puzzles, and through them, more control, more exploration, and more freedom, assisted along the way by her serendipitously-met “puzzle partner” Robert (Irrfan Khan). To its credit, though the initial setup of a film based entirely on one person’s self-discovery through 1,000-piece puzzles seems like an aggressively dull use of 103 minutes, the film manages to achieve some genuinely affecting moments of liberation and subtle defiance that avoid total insignificance. 

Unfortunately, I would not blame viewers for tuning out before these moments are reached, for despite that beginning, Puzzle begins to lose its grasp over its plot’s moving pieces quite quickly. Turtletaub, though partially responsible in his role as a producer on films such as Little Miss Sunshine and Loving for some of the more compelling family-based stories of the 21st century, can’t quite master the art of keeping the story fresh and maintaining depth. Too often, the dialogue between Agnes and her family lists into high-school-play levels of one-dimensionality, with displeasing references to veganism, Buddhism, and masculinity in “today’s youth” that come off as tone-deaf. Nearly every stereotypical “overdramatic indie film” line you can imagine is somewhere to be found in here, which becomes frustrating — not to mention its lamentably obvious central metaphor. In case you hadn’t guessed, the eponymous activity comes to represent the unsolvable puzzles in Agnes’s own life, and yes, there is a dramatic monologue about the cosmic connection between solving a particularly hard 1,000-piecer and solving yourself. (Though, to be fair, it is delivered by Mr. Khan, who continues to elevate uninteresting Hollywood ideas with his undeniable charm and masterful delivery — though the words he recites are unoriginal and formulaic, his performance of them is everything but.)

Overall, Puzzle does a lot more telling than it does showing. It is less a film than an overlong Hallmark ad, with a semi-profound lesson in there somewhere that is often overlooked in favor of ‘family drama’ beats that we have all seen before, repeatedly. If you are looking for bombast, style, or cutting-edge storytelling, all of which this year’s EIFF promises to offer by measure over the next two weeks, Turtletaub’s film is not for you. Yet, though such a clichéd film is a puzzling choice to open such a dynamic festival, as a calm, pensive look at a chronically overlooked type of person, this film fits well. 

 

Star (blue)Star (blue)Star (blue)

Reviewer: Nathaniel Brimmer-Beller (Seen 20 June)

Go to Edinburgh International Film Festival here