Produced by: Phil Lord, Christopher Miller, Aditya Sood, Elizabeth Banks, Max Handelman and Brian Duffield
Main Cast: Keri Russell, O’Shea Jackson Jr., Christian Convery, Alden Ehrenreich, Brooklynn Prince, Isiah Whitlock Jr., Margo Martindale and Ray Liotta
*** CONTAINS SPOILERS ***
Every now and then a film title hooks you in immediately. Snakes on a Plane (2006) anyone? Now, another beast driven movie comes along and says, “Hold. . . My. . . Bear!” Enter based-on-a-crazy-true-story Cocaine Bear (2023)! Yes, incredibly, the B-movie comedy-horror film is based on the real-life events in 1985, when a drug smuggler chucked themselves, and over forty bags of cocaine, out of a mechanically flailing aeroplane. When his parachute failed to open the smuggler plummeted to his death. The raining coke fell into Georgia forest terrain, only to be found by a black bear who, thinking it was food perhaps, tucked into the white powder.
Cocaine Bear (2023) imagines what happened next to this bizarre but somehow tragic series of unfortunate events. Let’s just say that P.E.T.A would certainly not approve of what happens to the bear in this film. Although they may enjoy the many grisly and bone-crunching deaths that occur to the mostly two-dimensional human characters on show. But while the cast, notably Alden Ehrenreich and Keri Russell, do their best with the material, the film lacks the wit and ensemble acting strength of a far superior movie involving an apex predator gone rogue,Lake Placid (1999).
Safe to say that Cocaine Bear (2023) is a pretty terrible movie. It is, however, very entertaining in a stupid way. It is deliberately intended to be that way by the writer, Jimmy Warden and director Elizabeth Banks. The flimsy characterisation, over-acting and half-witted plotting place the film on the verge of parody, without reaching the richly, gag-heavy scripts of say the Naked Gun series. There are some fantastically funny scenes involving the kids finding the cocaine and the realistic CGI bear causing carnage killing dumb teenage gang members and bickering gangsters. So, go into Cocaine Bear (2023) with low expectations and you will be rewarded with a funny and bloody B-movie monster flick. Ultimately, it has a great trailer and clickbait title, and contains enough crowd-pleasing carnage and dumb fun to make it worth a trip to the cinema.
Screenplay by: M. Night Shyamalan, Steve Desmond and Michael Sherman Based on The Cabin at the End of the World by Paul G. Tremblay
Produced by: M. Night Shyamalan, Marc Bienstock, Ashwin Rajan
Main cast: Dave Bautista, Jonathan Groff, Ben Aldridge, Nikki Amuka-Bird, Kristen Cui, Abby Quinn, Rupert Grint etc.
Cinematography: Jarin Blaschke, Lowell A. Meyer
*** MAY CONTAIN SPOILERS ***
M. Night Shyamalan is arguably one of the most critically divisive directors working today. Not because his films are particularly controversial, but mainly because he is a risk-taker that tests the boundaries of genre expectations. He has so many different ideas and concepts that quite often his movies have back-fired spectacularly, however, when he gets it right his genre films are highly entertaining and compelling. Superior genre films such as: The Sixth Sense (1999), Unbreakable (2000), Signs (2002), andThe Village (2004), were full of invention, suspense and wicked twists. Many people felt The Village stretched the limits of suspending disbelief, but it was a masterpiece compared to his filmic failures like: The Lady in the Water (2006), The Happening (2008) and The Last Airbender (2010).
I missed seeing the apparent disaster that was After Earth (2013), yet it was opined that Shyamalan returned to some essence of form with the horror film The Visit (2015). However, I still felt there were some dodgy creative decisions in that, such as the story-filler-white-middle-class-rapping kid in amidst a creepy thriller. Yet, with Split (2016), Shyamalan was back to his best, weaving an exploitational B-movie kidnap-plot with a searing psycho-performance from James McAvoy. The ending, which found Anya Taylor-Joy’s ultra resilient Casey fighting back against McAvoy’s twenty-plus split-personality maniac, then brilliantly linked the film to Shyamalan’s Unbreakable (2000). Glass (2019), was a solid finale to the unlikely trilogy and his adaptation of the novel, Sandcastle, titled Old (2021), received mixed reviews. However, despite the over-cooked ending, I thought it was a brilliant Twilight Zone infused ensemble suspense twister.
Shyamalan’s latest cinema offering,Knock at the Cabin (2023) is another literary adaptation and contains a simple yet compelling premise. As same-sex couple, Eric and Andrew, plus their adopted daughter, Wen, are enjoying a relaxing getaway in a peaceful and bucolic wood, four strangers carrying home made medieval-type weapons arrive and give them a horrific choice. If they do not sacrifice and kill one of their family, the end of the world will begin. This apocalyptic game of “would you rather” immediately raises the drama and stakes to a critical point, after which events become darker and tense. I was immediately drawn in as I really enjoy narratives where the characters have unenviable choices to make. What would I do in that situation?
As the family are tied up and threatened, the four strangers introduce themselves and how they came to the cabin. The tension increases as the world events seem to back up what the seemingly crazy people are saying. Interspersed with the scenes in the cabin are some moving flashbacks which establish the humanity and relationships of the victims. This creates empathy and texture to the middle-class every-couple family unit. They are not action stars or superheroes, but are us, the audience, facing a hard-to-stomach decision. Of course, a certain amount of suspension of disbelief is asked by Knock at the Cabin (2023). However, I was certainly gripped by the narrative throughout.
M. Night Shyamalan’s films often contain social commentary or reference to larger external forces impacting the characters. Here my interpretation was that, the book it is adapted from and the script, are dealing with themes relating to environmental allegory. If we, as a species, are all prepared to make a sacrifice we can ultimately save the world from disaster. Yet, Shyamalan succeeds here where The Happening (2008) failed because the message is more subtle, without bludgeoning us over the head with a massive weapon. Talking of which Dave Bautista gives a revelatory performance as the gentle giant, Leonard, a man cursed to carry out the portentous visions which haunt him and his group of deadly seers. His performance, some fascinating frame and shot choices, and Shyamalan’s ability to create psychological tension without resorting to shock tactics are all great reasons to answer the door to this apocalyptic thriller.
CINEMA REVIEWS: BABYLON (2022) and THE FABELMANS (2022)
I have been extremely busy with the day-job, itself working with the filmmakers of the future at Raindance Film School, so I have a number of reviews backed-up in “pre-production.” Meaning I am thematically linking the latest films from Damian Chazelle and Steven Spielberg in one double-bill review show. Both Babylon (2022) and The Fabelmans (2022) celebrate the seismic and life-changing power cinema has had on the culture and society, from a historical, professional and very personal perspective.
While I love watching, writing and making films, cinema offerings about filmmaking and the love of cinema can be construed as somewhat of an indulgence on the part of the filmmaker. Quentin Tarantino recently achieved high level juxtaposition between homage and impressive narrative style with Once Upon a Time in Hollywood (2019). Moreover, there have been some brilliant films about filmmaking as this Six of the Best Films about Filmmaking article illustrates. But when two of the finest directors around produce extremely different visions of the filmmaking process, then one immediately takes notice.
BABYLON (2022)
Directed and written by Damien Chazelle
Main cast: Brad Pitt, Margot Robbie, Diego Calva, Jean Smart, Jovan Adepo, Li Jun Lietc.
Damian Chazelle has proved himself one of the most exciting cinematic voices of recent years. Whiplash (2014), La La Land (2016) and First Man (2018) are all masterpieces of filmic storytelling. The absolute control displayed within First Man (2018) when contrasted with the aggression of his debut film and romantic vibrancy of his Oscar winning musical is a wonder to behold. Thus, I came to gonzo-period-drama-jazz-and-coke-fuelled-black-comedy-mash-up,Babylon (2022) with high expectations.
The opening scene of an elephant shitting on the camera / audience from a great height sets the tone of Chazelle’s unofficial adaptation of Kenneth Anger’s scurrilous book, Hollywood Babylon. And so at breakneck speed we hurtle, from 1926 onwards and a orgiastic party through the on and off-set lives, loves, highs and lows of Margot Robbie’s wild “child” actress, Brad Pitt’s silent movie heartthrob, Diego Calva’s ever-optimistic, Manny Torres, and the squeezed-out-of-the-story, jazz musician, portrayed by the under-used Jovan Adepo. It’s brash, bold and challenging cinema that left me with, I have to admit, motion picture sickness.
Babylon (2022) is not so much a love letter to Hollywood as a ratcheted-up-to-eleven tribute to the tragic heroes of the past who were chewed up and spat out by the relentless Hollywood machine. Despite Chazelle and his production team’s incredible dedication and attention to detail in creating a slew of astounding filmmaking set-pieces, I rarely cared about any of these mostly obnoxious characters and could not wait for this Hollywood rollercoaster to stop. Sadly, it goes on for far too long, with too many endings. Don’t get me wrong there are moments of genius, hilarity and grotesque pleasure to be had during Babylon (2022), however, this type of dysfunctional character-driven drama was done with way more heart by Paul Thomas Anderson’s far superior, Boogie Nights (1997).
Mark: 7 out of 11
THE FABELMANS (2022)
Directed by Steven Spielberg
Written by: Steven Spielberg and Tony Kushner
Main cast: Michelle Williams, Paul Dano, Seth Rogen, Gabriel LaBelle Judd Hirsch, Jeannie Berlin etc.
“Movies are dreams!“, says a glowing, Mitzi (Michelle Williams), to her young son, Sammy, as she presents him with a camera. So it proved for Steven Spielberg with his career in filmmaking working like a dream, both behind the camera and up on the cinema screen. Indeed, there is no doubting Spielberg is one of the greatest directors of all time, having delivered a succession of incredibly popular film blockbusters and some seriously impressive genre films of spellbinding quality. Jaws (1975) is regularly screened on Sky Cinema and there isn’t a wasted scene or action or performance or line of dialogue in one of my favourite films of all time. The rest of Spielberg’s cinematic curriculum vitae isn’t too bad either.
So, what about The Fabelmans (2022)? Well, it’s a more loose and episodic when compared with Spielberg’s tightly plotted genre films. But if anyone has earned that right it’s one of the finest film storytellers. It’s such a personal project Spielberg even thanked the audience for coming to the cinema to watch it in a recorded clip. At the heart of the action is the aforementioned Sammy, who after his initial visit to the cinema is smitten at first sight. So much so he strives to create the spectacle on his Dad’s 8mm camera. As Sammy’s love affair with film grows into his teenage years he finds himself in the midst of a tug-of-war between his mother’s artistic and highly emotional personality and his father’s (Paul Dano) scientific, more logical mind.
Beautifully filmed, designed and edited, The Fabelmans (2022), is a majestic experience from an emotional and visual perspective. Spielberg’s love for cinema and his family is palpable, as he and Tony Kushner’s screenplay cleverly juxtaposes the filmmaking process with key emotional scenes from the director’s life. One specific moment where teenage Sammy (Gabriel LaBelle) edits a home movie only to reveal something very painful is certainly one of the most memorable scenes of the year. Performances are intriguingly varied with LaBelle and Dano both impressing. The usually superlative Michelle Williams was great, but her character felt like she was from an otherworldly realm. I imagine that was Spielberg’s intention. In conclusion, The Fabelmans (2022), is a stunning and big-budgeted home movie. If you are captured by Spielberg’s personal journey and enjoy watching characters on a cinema screen as they stare in wonder at the cinema screen, then you will love this.
Produced by: Todd Field, Alexandra Milchan and Scott Lambert
Cast: Cate Blanchett, Noémie Merlant, Nina Hoss, Sophie Kauer, Julian Glover, Allan Corduner, Mark Strong etc.
Cinematography Florian Hoffmeister
*** MAY CONTAIN SPOILERS ***
Tar (definition): a dark, thick flammable liquid distilled from wood or coal, consisting of a mixture of hydrocarbons, resins, alcohols, and other compounds. It is used in road-making and for coating and preserving timber.
Todd Field’s classical film masterpiece, Tár (2022), was hailed by critics when released late last year in the U.S.A and made many top ten film of the year lists. I saw it in the first week of 2023 and while I don’t always concur with the gushing hyperbole of professional film critics, I have to say if I see a better cinema release all year I will be amazed. Let’s hope I do.
Tár (2022) is a film which works on many genre and narrative layers. It is a psychological drama, an absorbing character study, a backstage musical, a complex morality play, with suggestions of hallucinatory horror during the final act of the film. It is a triumph of filmic brilliance expertly delivered by Todd Field. It is incredible to think this is only the third film he has directed. Certainly a case of high quality over quantity. But Field confirms himself an auteur, exerting absolute control over the material. Such is his, and the production team’s, meticulous research, writing, planning, design and execution that if I hadn’t seen the credits, I would have said the maestro Stanley Kubrick had made this film.
Tár (2022) opens with haunting singing over the imaginatively presented credits that slowly fill a black screen. Field demonstrates control from the start before we are introduced to Lydia Tár (Cate Blanchett). Now, I thought the film may have been a story about a female conductor attempting to break into a traditionally male dominated world. However, Lydia Tár is at the top of her game as a conductor and composer, heralded for her genius interpretations of the music of Mahler and own oeuvre. Plus, having won numerous awards for her cinema, theatre and television compositions. Lydia Tár is soaring and about to release a book Tár on Tár and conduct a live recording of Mahler’s Fifth Symphony for the Berlin Philharmonic. So, where’s the drama? What could go wrong?
Field structures the linear narrative around Tár’s day-to-day working and family life and the process of rehearsing Mahler’s Fifth. Methodically we are then introduced to actions from Tár’s recent past which threaten to haunt her. As a character who is so revered and in control of her world, Tár’s talent and confidence is magnetic and admirable. However, having no doubt been a force of nature to make it this competitive world, her arrogance and lack of awareness of a changing culture threatens to cancel her prodigiously built dominion. I won’t say anymore but Todd Field brilliantly explores resonating themes of the zeitgeist with razor-sharp intelligence. There are no easy answers either.
I could not take my eyes or mind off the screen during Tár (2022). It is cerebrally, aesthetically and psychologically all-encompassing. The stark cinematography, exhilarating classically-driven soundtrack, imposing Berlin architecture and claustrophobic feel of the Philharmonic offices and rehearsal spaces collude to create further emotional tension. Further, the film not only works impressively as absorbing drama, but also as interpretive ambiguity with subtle and mysterious suspense. Lastly, if Cate Blanchett does not win a best acting Oscar for her performance in Tár (2022) I will be stunned. Never less than metronomically astounding, Blanchett has taken Field’s precise writing and breathed physical, mental and spiritual vivacity into a challenging personality. Thus, take many-a-bow maestros, Blanchett and Field. Encore! Encore! Encore!
Main cast: Tang Wei, Park Hae-il, Lee Jung-hyun, Go Kyung-pyo, etc.
Cinematography Kim Ji-yong
Edited by Kim Sang-bum
*** MAY CONTAIN SPOILERS ***
Park Chan-wook is a proper filmmaker. Like Quentin Tarantino and Martin Scorsese, he embraces the artifice of the visual and aural medium crafting intelligent, thematically surprising and stylistically dazzling works of cinema. While watching his work one can see the clockwork precision of his filmic mind devising every frame, sound, camera move, cut, character action, acting nuance, being thought out expertly. In short: Park Chan-wook’s films are always an event for me and demand attention.
Chan-wook’s only Hollywood directed film was an under-rated gem of a noir thriller called Stoker (2013), after which he returned home to direct erotically charged period thriller, The Handmaiden (2016). This was a bigger-budgeted and thematically richer affair, taking a complex con-artist-twisting-plot and interweaving an explicit feminist love story. Of course, lest we forget Chan-wook’s classic early work, notably the gonzo revenger, Old Boy (2003). I re-watched it recently at the Raindance Film Festival and the furiously inventive exploitation film retains its beautifully transgressive power.
Like The Handmaiden (2016), Decision to Leave (2022) is a romance story set within a complex genre plot. While the former was a period crime film, Decision to Leave (2022) is a contemporary set police procedural with a central premise highly reminiscent of Basic Instinct (1992). Tang Wei as Song Seo-rae is suspected of killing her husband and as investigating cop, Park Hae-il as Det. Jang Hae-jun, delves deeper he finds himself more and more attracted to her. Where The Handmaiden (2016) and Basic Instinct (1992) used nudity and sexual imagery liberally, Decision to Leave (2022) is far more subtle and cerebral. The compelling romance is built on two fine lead performances, the cunning twists in the crime plot and Chan-wook’s masterful visuals with mountain, coastal and city landscapes being employed to powerful impact.
Now I must admit after watching Decision to Leave (2022) I was left slightly underwhelmed at the end from an emotional perspective. The visuals and storytelling were phenomenal, with Chan-wook and his writing partner crafting a devious series of inventive cat-and-mouse set-pieces. The suspense and doubt instilled as to whether Song Seo-rae is a murderer, despite her cast-iron alibi, is palpable. Simultaneously, the arc of the married mid-life crisis-detective, drawn to the suspect, flirting with disaster through flawed choices, creates much tension also. However, I didn’t immediately warm to the detective’s persona and wasn’t sure if I really cared. But I suspect, due to the complexity of the passion on show, a further watch will cement Chan-wook’s specific and symbolic vision.
Beneath the melding of romance, crime, mystery and action genres, I also considered the potential subtext in the screenplay. I wondered if Decision to Leave (2022) sought to explore the socio-political relationship between the nations of South Korea and China via the characters? Song Seo-rae is a Chinese migrant who came to Korea and via marriage was able to remain. An enigmatic soul she uses her wiles to survive, serenely attracting a series of men. But death follows her as closely as the male. Detective Hae-jun is drawn to her both professionally and romantically, no doubt thrilled by the danger. Yet, Chan-wook denies displaying physical consummation, and this makes the film more erotic than endless sex scenes do.
Lastly, Decision to Leave’s (2022) examination of language, both bodily and verbal, is deftly presented as a theme within the romance. The central crime of murder creates suspicion between the Korean and Chinese characters, but there’s a mutual and irresistible pull that cannot be denied. Song Seo-rae’s use of her phone translation application during her exchanges with the Detective create both a barrier and paradoxical intimacy. It’s just one of the fascinating bits of business, as well as the chainmail gauntlet used by the Detective, which elevate an already impressive script. But did Decision to Leave (2022) need to be so evasively complex and full of radiant ambiguity? The ending especially is both poetically exquisite and frustratingly cryptic. With a Park Chan-wook film, would I have it any other way?
Produced by: Luca Guadagnino, Theresa Park, Marco Morabito, David Kajganich, Francesco Melzi d’Eril, Lorenzo Mieli, Gabriele Moratti, Peter Spears, Timothée Chalamet
Cast: Taylor Russell, Timothée Chalamet, Michael Stuhlbarg, André Holland, Chloë Sevigny, David Gordon Green, Jessica Harper, Jake Horowitz, Mark Rylance, etc.
Cinematography: Arseni Khachaturan
*** CONTAINS STORY SPOILERS ***
After reviewing The Menu (2022) last time out, here’s another film where food and eating and death are at the very marrow of the narrative. I must confess though it’s very difficult to discuss the excellent hybrid genre film, Bones and All (2022) without giving away the main ingredient within this film. So, I give prior warning that I’m going to have to reveal it in the review. I will state therefore if this film had been called, Fine Young Cannibals, I would not have been surprised in the least. Because the theme of people eating human meat is at the heart of the story.
Bones and All (2022) is not a B-movie zombie film with bloody images of flesh-eating monsters devouring people. Yes, there are some gory scenes to satisfy horror fans, however, this arthouse adaptation of Camille DeAngelis’ 2016 novel, is more subtle and sympathetic to the young protagonists with a yearning for mortal flesh. Here murder and cannibalism occur, but it is represented as a curse for both Maren (Taylor Russell) and Lee (Timothee Chalamet), who struggle with their consumptive urges. Moreover, the feeding on flesh is highly symbolic, representing a sensual and almost religious experience for the couple. As they travel across various States, they grow as characters and people. They also explore their own love and share other people’s bodies, romance bleeding through in the process.
Bones and All (2022) is set in the 1980s. It begins with teenager Maren living with her father (Andre Holland) in Virginia. After hitting eighteen years of age, and causing a particularly nasty event at a friend’s sleepover, she is abandoned by him. Left with a cassette tape explaining her family history, Maren sets out to find her mother, meeting Lee along the way. The two are immediately drawn to each other and while driving set about sating their desire for fresh meat. This causes conflict between the couple as it is clear they are not comfortable with the nasty business of killing. Unlike the pursuing serial-killer-trophy-collecting antagonist, Sully (Mark Rylance). He is a venal force of nature, taking animalistic glee during the sacrifice of his victims.
Bones and All (2022) is directed with glacial majesty by Luca Guadagnino. He expertly blends and cooks the genres of horror, period drama, rites-of-passage, romance and road movie with a well balanced approach to tone. Extracting attractive performances from Chalamet and Russell, their onscreen chemistry is potent and touching. Acting legend Mark Rylance steals the show though as the slithery Sully. Overall, I felt the film could have been cut for pace slightly and the Romeo and Juliet-with-a-twist ending was too tragic for me. I think, despite their cannibalistic needs, Maren and Lee deserved a future together. But ultimately it’s all a matter of taste.
Produced by: Brad Pitt, Dede Gardner, Jeremy Kleiner, Tracey Landon, Scott Robertson
Main cast: Ana de Armas, Adrien Brody, Bobby Cannavale, Xavier Samuel, Julianne Nicholson, Evan Williams, Toby Huss, David Warshofsky, Caspar Phillipson, etc.
Cinematography: Chayse Irvin
*** CONTAINS HISTORICAL SPOILERS ***
Aside from expertly directing episodes of the Netflix drama, Mindhunter and the documentary One More Time with Feeling (2016), filmmaker Andrew Dominik’s directorial output has been sparse of late. Indeed, he hasn’t released a feature film since quirky gangster drama, Killing Them Softly (2012). I imagine this is due to many reasons including: slow-gestating methodology, several unrealized projects failing to see a greenlight, and the dreaded COVID-19. It’s a shame as I believe he is one of the most compelling filmmakers around at present. Chopper (2000) remains one of my favourite cult stories about a charismatic, larger-than-life criminal anti-hero. Similarly, The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford (2007) is one of the best films I have seen from the last twenty years. It was pretty much a box-office flop but everything about it screamed greatness to me: stunning cinematography; brilliant cast; and resonating themes regarding celebrity and legend in the Wild West.
After Chopper Read and Jesse James, once again Dominik explores the iconic life of a real person in Blonde (2022). You may have heard of her, Norma Jean Mortenson/Baker, or as she was more famously known: Marilyn Monroe. Using Joyce Carol Oates’ book as a springboard, plus no doubt many other written, visual and media sources available, Dominik has crafted a stylish and singular vision of the peroxide icon’s life and career. In no doubt should a viewer believe this to be a “true” story in the documentary-drama style, but rather an impressionistic, poetic and compelling imagining of Marilyn’s short, yet tumultuous, existence on this planet.
For me, Marilyn Monroe was one of the most stunning movie stars who ever existed. She lit up the screen and was a mightily under-rated actor also. In her heyday she was the biggest star in the world. Her role as Sugar in Some Like it Hot (1959), is one of the most gorgeously funny, beautiful and vulnerable performances ever committed to celluloid. Enter Ana De Armas as Marilyn in Blonde (2022). De Armas is a revelation on-screen in terms of her looks, movement, body language and the nuanced depth she brings to the screen siren. It’s a brave role too as the script demands much of her. Throughout many exquisitely filmed and edited scenes lies the ugly degradation of Marilyn’s body and soul. De Armas gives her all in these vignettes of domestic abuse, sexual assault, rape, abortions, overdoses, miscarriages, mental breakdowns and further sexual gaslighting at the hands of people she believed were friends.
So, why should you want to watch Blonde (2022), you may ask yourself. Well, De Armas’s performance alone is worth enduring much of the emotionally draining misery. Moreover, Dominik again proves himself to be a director of the highest quality. He’s a maverick and iconoclast who has an impressive and intelligent cinematic eye. The opening sequence where Norma, as a young child, is driven by her unwell mother through Los Angeles forest fires is a frightening and imperious interpretation of mental health, full of fear, heat, and portentous symbolism. Such fire and trauma foreshadows the distress and torment that is to come to young Norma throughout her life. A schizophrenic Mother also echoes the schism of persona that impacts Norma the individual, and Marilyn the movie star. The division of personalities is a theme which the screenplay sensitively explores, despite being buried in the more lurid and shocking events of Marilyn’s sad life.
Overall, Blonde (2022) is a startling and shocking rendition of Marilyn Monroe. Of course, hers was an existence full of drama, intensity, darkness and tragedy. But you have to think there was some light in there, some happiness, humour and joy. On some fleeting occasions during Blonde (2022), Dominik presents this, but ultimately this is a beautifully filmed yet ugly-hearted cinematic tragedy. On the surface the film genre is biopic, but it really is a horror film, as Marilyn’s exploitation by the men in her life is laid bare on the screen. I’ve read some critics describe the film as exploitational, however, this is a film ABOUT exploitation. Marilyn was exploited by agents, photographers, directors, producers, the press, the Hollywood system, the audience, her doctors, her lovers, her husbands and a President of the United States.
Dominik is perhaps suggesting Monroe did not kill herself, but was disintegrated by those who should have loved and cared for her. The ultimate tragedy is that Norma/Marilyn could not find the love and mental strength inside herself to survive those who perpetually sought to profit from this beautiful shining star. If the events realised inBlonde (2022) are to be believed, what person could?
Produced by: Graham Broadbent, Peter Czernin & Martin McDonagh
Main Cast: Colin Farrell, Brendan Gleeson, Kerry Condon, Barry Keoghan, etc.
Cinematography: Ben Davis
Edited by: Mikkel E. G. Nielsen
Music by: Carter Burwell
*** MAY CONTAIN SPOILERS ***
The Banshees of Inisherin (2022) is Martin McDonagh’s latest cinematic masterpiece. Not only is it one of the best films of the year he has, as with Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri (2017), constructed one of the most formidable screenplays of many a year. As a playwright McDonagh has won many awards for his works. His debut film, In Bruges (2008), was a deceptively simple story of two hitmen on the run which, with rich thematic power, became a darkly hilarious existential cult classic. His follow-up Seven Psychopaths (2012), a heady mix of criminals versus writers in a meta-fictional Hollywood-based narrative was brilliantly written and acted, if slightly lacking thematic clarity. Like Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri (2017), The Banshees of Inisherin (2022) is a highly emotional human drama which contains intelligent allegory, incredible characterization, and cracking dialogue.
Set in 1923 on an island off of Southern Ireland called aptly Inisherin, the film opens by focussing on genial everyman farmer, Pádraic Súilleabháin (Colin Farrell) and his daily routine. After tending to his animals, he usually calls for his friend, Colm Doherty (Brendan Gleeson) to go to the island pub, the J.J. Devine or Jonjo’s. In England there is an idiom called, “sending someone to Coventry.” This means to ignore or ostracize an individual or individuals. So, basically Colm chooses to do this to his long-standing friend, Pádraic. This shunning completely bemuses Pádraic and despite Colm’s pleading for Pádraic to respect his wishes, he continually seeks an answer to his former friend’s decision.
After this intriguing premise is established, what follows is a tremendously original, darkly funny and emotionally penetrating succession of scenes. The exchanges between the two characters begins as bickering but then descends into some seriously disturbing acts of recrimination. Attempting to make them see sense are various eccentric characters on the island who provide many witty and absurd exchanges that McDonagh specialises in. Further, Pádraic’s sister Siobhán (Kerry Condon) is almost the one voice of reason as the feud escalates. As she tries to diffuse the conflict, even Barry Keoghan’s young idiot, Dominic Kearney, the initial comic relief in the film, attempts to make these two men see sense.
Visually, The Banshees of Inisherin (2022), is incredibly rich. The territory displays gorgeously photographed shots of the rocks, the sea, the stone roads and the lush green countryside. But while there is a sense of expanse and freedom initially, the feeling of isolation pervades. As the story continues the characters feel more and more segregated by the sea and their own or other’s decisions. None more so than Farrell’s Pádraic. A simple man who just wants to do his work and get drunk with his friend, he finds he is sequestered by Colm’s desire to self-isolate and concentrate on his music. Here, Farrell and Gleeson give tremendous character work. Farrell especially has rarely been better as Pádraic’s attitude turns initially from shock to bitterness over the journey of the narrative.
A film director’s job is for me about making key creative choices. Martin McDonagh makes brilliant choices while working from his own exceptional script. I loved everything about The Banshees of Inisherin (2022). The look, the performances, the pacing, the locations and Carter Burwell’s phenomenal score are absolutely first class. I haven’t even mentioned Barry Keoghan’s memorable supporting turn. He surely is one of the most naturally gifted actors of his generation. Not to forget other striking characters in the ensemble such as the creepy, Mrs McCormick (Sheila Flitton), an old harridan who acts as a portent for death on the island.
Martin McDonagh expertly combines a superb ear for dialogue, a psychologically absorbing analysis of the human condition with elements from Waiting For Godot and Channel Four situation comedy, Father Ted. Above all else, The Banshees of Inisherin (2022) is a darkly, spectacular cinematic experience which works on many levels. On one level it is about the isolation of island life and its inhabitants. On another it’s about the death of a friendship. While on yet another level it is about the analogous absurdity of civil war and how conflict can start for the merest of reasons. While the best cinema is certainly about showing and not telling, McDonagh proves again that dialogue-driven films can produce cinematic theatre, comedy and tragedy of the highest order.
Screenplay by: Katie Silberman – Story by Carey Van Dyke, Shane Van Dyke and Katie Silberman
Produced by: Olivia Wilde, Katie Silberman, Miri Yoon, Roy Lee
MainCast: Florence Pugh, Harry Styles, Olivia Wilde, Gemma Chan, KiKi Layne, Nick Kroll, Chris Pine etc.
Cinematography Matthew Libatique
*** MAY CONTAIN SPOILERS ***
Part arthouse character study, part science fiction social satire and eventually a rushed concertinaed thriller, the Olivia Wilde directed, Don’t Worry Darling (2022) is a visual feast, anchored by Florence Pugh’s devastatingly brilliant performance. However, the ambition of the themes remains hamstrung by pacing and structure which fails to serve the story to its full potential.
Set within a utopian 1950’s sun blanched town called Victory, Wilde and her writers throw us straight into the hedonistic lives of a set of youthful and dynamic couples, drinking, partying and sexing. They work and play hard. Well, the husbands work as the dutiful women stay at home cleaning and churning out kids. So far-so-Stepford Wives! At the heart of Don’t Worry Darling (2022) is Pugh as the loyal but inquisitive, Alice. Her husband, Jack (Harry Styles) is ambitious, seeking the approval of big boss, the hubristic Frank (Chris Pine). When Alice begins to experience Kafkaesque dreams of feeling trapped by her daily life, she slowly realises all is not quite perfect in paradise.
No one does anguish and anxiety on screen like Florence Pugh. As Alice falls deeper down the rabbit hole of despair, Pugh produces true cinematic power once again. Olivia Wilde also brings a compelling image system to fully visualise Alice’s hellish descent. In comparison, the male characters are far less developed and the exchanges between Pugh and Styles, especially in the final act, are really lacking in dramatic punch. Styles himself I felt was miscast, but he does have an engaging screen presence. It’s just I didn’t feel enough threat from him.
Structurally, Don’t Worry Darling (2022) is also flawed. The major reveal comes way too late to assuage the pacing issues. While the narrative contains some striking visual set-pieces there are too many parties, barbecues and social events getting in the way of the potential thrills that could have occurred if Alice had discovered her plight much earlier. Overall, there is too much set-up and not enough punch. The longer you wait to reveal the twist, the bigger the revelation needs to be. The Outer Limits and The Twilight Zone have done this style of story with more emotional impact and better economy. Pugh and Wilde though prove once again they are major talents and thematically speaking it’s good that men get another kick in. Men are fast becoming the go-to villains of this century and long may it continue.
Cast: Daniel Kaluuya, Keke Palmer, Steven Yeun, Michael Wincott, Brandon Perea, Wrenn Schmidt, Barbie Ferreira, Keith David, etc.
Cinematography: Hoyte van Hoytema
*** MAY CONTAIN SPOILERS ***
Following on from the Oscar winning, Get Out (2017), and the should-have-won-an-Oscar-for-Best-Actress-in-Lupita-Nyong’o, Us (2019), Jordan Peele is back with the enigmatically titled, and equally ambiguous sci-fi-Western-horror film, NOPE (2022). Taking on writing and directing duties again, Peele has delivered a majestic looking cinematic feast, brimming with incredibly memorable images involving horses, chimpanzees, cinema, waving inflatables, surveillance cameras, carnival shows, and something very large that comes from beyond the clouds.
So, what’s Nope (2022) actually about? Well, put simply it’s all about cowboys and girls overcoming a monster. But it is much more than that. Because, narratively speaking it is difficult to sum up in a few sentences. Peele builds his most complex film to date by delivering a series of visually powerful set-pieces throughout. He also challenges the audience with an intelligent visual system which thematically links television, cinema, cameras, Hollywood, animals and a spectacular eye in the sky. Like Tarantino’s Once Upon a Time in Hollywood (2019), Joel Coen’s The Tragedy of Macbeth (2021) and Martin Scorsese’s religious epics, Nope (2022), is what I consider to be a big-budget, arthouse blockbuster.
The film, which is divided into chapters, establishes brother, OJ (Daniel Kaluuya) and sister, Emerald (Keke Palmer), trying valiantly to keep the family ranch from going under. Once thriving under their father’s management, the ranch would supply horses to the Hollywood conveyor belt of A-list and B-movie Westerns. With such work now in short supply, OJ is forced to sell horses to local theme park owner, Ricky “Jupe” Park (Steven Yeun), however, he vows to get them back when business improves. But a bigger threat is soon looming over the ranch.
Kaluuya’s performance as OJ is laconic, invoking pure Robert Mitchum. Did I like and root for OJ? Sort of. Keke Palmer as Emerald brought the energy to the screen, but I never felt the two characters really gelled with the themes successfully. Peele’s intellectual leaps, while thought-provoking, barriered an emotional connection within Nope (2022). Likewise, Yuen’s Jupe is given a tremendously imaginative and powerful backstory which brings us into his character, but ultimately fails to pay off dramatically. In fact, these scenes felt like they were from a different film altogether. Indeed, Peele uses the sci-fi monster genre to hang his view of the world on, not always to maximum impact.
While the characterisations and themes arguably fail to gel within the screenplay, it is visually where Nope (2022) really soars. Hoyte van Hoytema should sweep the board come awards time. Further, Peele creates an optical banquet by juxtaposing the majestic vistas of the Californian landscape with modern camera and surveillance equipment, plus those colourful inflatable dummies. Then there’s the thing that is “Not Of Planet Earth”. What is it and what does it represent? Who is watching and controlling and feeding on us? Peele’s challenging concepts are to be applauded within the genre blockbuster, but I just wanted to be scared and care a bit more. On additional viewings, Nope (2022), may be considered a masterpiece, but at the moment it could be one of those great films which I kind of didn’t like. As discussed previously here.
The Cinema Fix presents 