Main cast: Mari Shirato, Junko Miyashita, Kentarō Shimizu, Jun Etō, etc.
Cinematography by Yonezou Maeda
Music by Toshiyuki Honda
*** MAY CONTAIN SPOILERS ***
I took a gamble on an unknown Japanese film at the Nickel Cinema and walked out genuinely shaken. Mermaid Legend (1984) isn’t just a cult oddity—it’s a film that mutates before your eyes, seducing you with beauty before drowning you in blood. I was stunned by how something so lyrical could also be so brutally confrontational.
The story begins almost modestly, as a coastal drama about a fisherman and his wife, Migiwa. They bicker constantly, their marriage worn thin by poverty and exhaustion, yet there’s an undeniable bond beneath the arguments. That fragile domesticity is shattered when the fisherman stands in the way of an industrial development scheme. The business developers—faceless, polite, and utterly ruthless—have him murdered, disposing of his life as casually as industrial waste.
From there, Mermaid Legend (1984) transforms again. What starts as marital realism becomes a corporate espionage murder mystery, steeped in anger at nuclear energy, environmental destruction, and the cold machinery of corporate greed. Migiwa, a powerful-lunged pearl diver, initially hides, retreating into grief and the sea itself. But this is not a film about quiet mourning. When she decides to act, she does so with mythic force.
Played by the ethereal and astonishing Mari Shirato, Migiwa becomes something halfway between woman, avenging angel, and sea spirit. Shirato’s performance is magnetic—serene, sensual, and terrifying. As her vengeful pursuit begins, the film plunges headlong into extreme violence and explicit sexuality, reclassifying itself yet again as one of the most shocking exploitation epics I’ve seen from Japan in recent years. These scenes aren’t gratuitous in the lazy sense; they’re confrontational, weaponized, daring you to look away while refusing to let you feel comfortable for a second.
What makes Mermaid Legend (1984) so intoxicating is how its elements collide. Poetic underwater cinematography turns the ocean into a womb, a grave, and a cathedral. Religious, angelic, and environmental imagery blur together, as if Migiwa is both martyr and executioner. The music is heavenly—soaring, mournful, almost sacred—creating a surreal contrast with the carnage on screen. Beauty and brutality coexist in the same frame, each intensifying the other.
And then there’s the ending. The final, elongated pier stabbing rampage is completely off the chart—relentless, bloody, and hypnotic. It plays out like a ritual rather than an action sequence, stretching time until violence becomes abstraction, then meaning, then release. By the time the last body falls, Mermaid Legend (1984) has fully shed realism and entered the realm of legend, justifying its title in blood.
This is a film that shouldn’t work, yet does—furiously, defiantly. A genre-shifting fever dream that moves from domestic drama to political thriller to erotic exploitation to mythic revenge tragedy, Mermaid Legend (1984) is both beautiful and brutal, and I can’t stop thinking about it. Seeing it by chance at the Nickel Cinema felt like discovering a secret too powerful to stay hidden.
Production companies: Paramount Network Television, Braga Productions & Rick Berman Productions
Selected writers: Brannon Braga, Rick Berman, Manny Coto, Mike Sussman, Phyllis Strong, Judith Reeves-Stevens, Garfield Reeves-Stevens, André Bormanis, Chris Black, David A. Goodman, Fred Dekker, and more.
Selected directors: Roxann Dawson, LeVar Burton, Robert Duncan McNeill, Allan Kroeker, David Livingston, Winrich Kolbe, James L. Conway, Mike Vejar, Michael Grossman, Marita Grabiak, Brennan Spencer, Michael S. Watkins, Vincenzo Natali, and more.
Main cast: Scott Bakula, John Billingsley, Jolene Blalock, Dominic Keating, Anthony Montgomery, Linda Park, Connor Trinneeretc.
Notable guest actors: Jeffrey Combs, Vaughn Armstrong , Gary Graham, Matt Winston, Randy Oglesby, James Cromwell, Brent Spiner, Daniel Dae Kim, Fionnula Flanagan, Robert Picardo, Tony Todd, Bruce Davison, Seth MacFarlane, Steven Culp, Noa Tishby, Rene Auberjonois, Peter Weller, Dean Stockwell etc.
Composer(s): Dennis McCarthy, Jay Chattaway, Brian Tyler, John Frizzell, Mark McKenzie, David Bell, Velton Ray Bunch, Kevin Kiner & Paul Baillargeon
*** MAY CONTAIN SPOILERS ***
It’s been a while since I reviewed Star Trek on the site. But I have now finally completed the task I set myself to watch and review all the legacy Star Trek series. I am currently on the fence regarding the more recent Star Trek offerings. Anyway, having reviewed Voyager (see below) last year, I can now provide a detailed report back on Enterprise.
Star Trek: Enterpriseoccupies a fascinating corner of the franchise’s sprawling canon. Set a century before Kirk and more than a century after humanity’s first steps into spaceflight, the series charts the formative years of Starfleet—before there even was a “Starfleet” in the sense fans recognize. Its premise alone is rich: a pre-Federation frontier where humanity is inexperienced, unsteady, and often outmatched, yet eager to join a much larger galactic community. In this sense, Enterprise is both a prologue and a missing link, retrofitting the swaggering optimism of The Original Series with a more grounded, early-21st-century sensibility.
The show’s commitment to exploring those transitional years is what secures its place in canon. Enterprise seeds the diplomacy, technology, and interspecies tensions that future shows build upon—from the first warp-5 engine, to early encounters with Vulcans, Andorians, and the ever-shadowy Temporal Cold War. Watching Captain Jonathan Archer and his crew stumble toward the ideals later embodied by the Federation gives the series a distinctive historical weight. It doesn’t merely fit into Star Trek continuity; it actively sculpts the bedrock beneath it.
Central to the show’s appeal is Scott Bakula, whose performance as Captain Archer blends warmth, stubbornness, and a palpable sense of moral growing pains. Bakula gives Archer a grounded humanity that stands apart from the polished command styles of Picard or the passionate Sisko, yet his sincerity and resolve make him every bit their equal. When the writing rises to meet his talent—as in standout episodes like “Cogenitor,” “The Andorian Incident,” “Carbon Creek,” or the Xindi arc’s best moments—the show can reach the emotional and thematic heights of The Original Seriesand The Next Generation.
But Enterprise is also a series defined by uneven execution. For every episode that lands with classic-Trek resonance, there are others hampered by muddled plotting, bland direction, or creative decisions that feel more reactive than visionary. The show often struggled to decide whether it wanted to be a rough-edged prequel, a 2000s-era action drama, or a traditional episodic Trek—frequently trying to be all three at once. While it contains genuinely excellent science-fiction storytelling, its overall writing and directorial cohesion never consistently matched the clarity, ambition, or confidence of its most celebrated predecessors.
Yet despite its flaws, Star Trek: Enterprise remains an essential and often underrated part of the canon—a show whose best moments remind us exactly why Trek endures, and whose imperfections make its aspirations feel all the more human. Here are eight of the best episodes I watched – two per series.
Series 1 – The Andorian Incident (Episode 7)
This episode is the first truly great hour of Enterprise—the point where the show proves it can handle nuanced political storytelling within the Trek universe. The introduction of Jeffrey Combs as Shran is a masterstroke; he immediately brings depth, wit, and volatility to the Andorians. The plot, centered on Archer and his crew discovering that a supposedly pacifist Vulcan monastery is hiding darker secrets, reshapes our understanding of Vulcan–Andorian tensions. Strong direction, tight pacing, and a morally thorny reveal make this the first episode that feels essential to larger Star Trek canon.
Series 1 – Dear Doctor (Episode 13)
A thoughtful, character-driven story told through Dr. Phlox’s personal logs, “Dear Doctor” represents Enterprise at its most philosophically ambitious. It confronts the ethics of medical intervention, cultural evolution, and the limits of humanitarian aid—classic Trek territory handled with sensitivity and restraint. John Billingsley delivers one of the best performances of the season, infusing Phlox with curiosity, compassion, and unsettling pragmatism. The episode’s controversial ending also resonates, sparking debate among fans and critics alike. It’s a quietly powerful hour that demonstrates the series’ potential for moral complexity.
Series 2 – Carbon Creek (Episode 2)
Widely regarded as the highlight of Season 2—and for many, the best Enterprise episode of its first two years—“Carbon Creek” is a charming, unexpectedly heartfelt detour into Trek history. Told by T’Pol as a possibly-true, possibly-mythic story, it follows a stranded Vulcan survey team living incognito in 1950s Pennsylvania. The fish-out-of-water premise is handled with warmth, humour, and subtle social commentary, while Jolene Blalock shines in a dual role that lets her explore a softer, more playful Vulcan persona. It’s imaginative, character-rich, and quietly profound—the kind of tonal experiment that pays off beautifully.
Series 2 – Regeneration – (Episode 23)
A tense, surprisingly effective prequel to The Next Generation’s Borg storyline, “Regeneration” threads a tricky needle: introducing Borg elements without breaking canon. The episode smartly uses the wreckage from Star Trek: First Contact as its entry point, turning the narrative into a chilling, atmospheric thriller. The direction is sharp, the pacing taut, and the danger feels unusually real for this era of Trek. The crew’s desperation—fighting an enemy they can’t possibly understand—creates some of the season’s most gripping moments. It’s both fan-pleasing and genuinely suspenseful.
Series 3 – Twilight – (Episode 8)
Often cited as the masterpiece of Season 3, “Twilight” is a time-bending character drama that blends emotional storytelling with classic Trek sci-fi ingenuity. When Archer becomes afflicted with a neurological condition that erases his short-term memory, the episode jumps forward into an alternate future where humanity has been nearly wiped out by the Xindi. What follows is a surprisingly intimate exploration of Archer and T’Pol’s relationship, played with sincerity and restraint by Scott Bakula and Jolene Blalock. The script balances tragedy, hope, and big ideas without feeling gimmicky. It’s moving, tightly written, and stands alongside the franchise’s finest “what-if” stories.
Series 3 – Azati Prime – (Episode 18)
“Azati Prime” is the moment Season 3’s slow-burn storytelling snaps into urgent, high-stakes clarity. The episode follows Archer’s attempted suicide mission to destroy the Xindi superweapon, giving Scott Bakula one of his strongest performances in the entire series. The moral weight is heavy, the action tense, and the pacing relentless. Crucially, this is where the Xindi cease being abstract antagonists and become three-dimensional political factions torn between fear and diplomacy. The episode’s final act—Enterprise under brutal assault—is among the most cinematic sequences the series ever produced, setting up the endgame of the season with real emotional gravity.
Series 4 – United – (Episode 13)
“United” is Enterprise finally fulfilling its prequel potential—showing the messy, reluctant, and hard-fought beginnings of what will eventually become the United Federation of Planets. The political maneuvering is smart and grounded, the Andorian–Tellarite tension is played with grit and humor, and Jeffrey Combs delivers another magnetic performance as Shran. The episode’s centerpiece—the Andorian duel where Archer must fight to prevent a larger war—is tense, dramatic, and deeply character-driven. It’s classic Trek diplomacy mixed with riveting conflict, all while pushing the franchise’s history forward in meaningful ways.
Series 4 – In a Mirror, Darkly – (Episodes 18–19)
One of the most stylish and purely fun stories Enterprise ever told, this two-parter fully embraces the decadent brutality of the Mirror Universe. The production team goes all-in: redesigned sets, re-imagined uniforms, a pulpy remixed title sequence, and a stunning recreation of the USS Defiant from The Original Series. The cast seems to relish the opportunity to play villainous, unhinged versions of their characters—especially Jolene Blalock and Connor Trinneer. Visually bold, lore-rich, and brimming with dark humour, “In a Mirror, Darkly” is a love letter to both TOS and long-time Trek fans.
Cult Film Review: Ms. 45 / Angel of Vengeance (1981)
Directed by Abel Ferrara
Written by Nicholas St. John
Produced by: Richard Howorth, Mary Kane
Main cast: Zoë Tamerlis (Lund), Albert Sinkys, Steve Singer, Jack Thibeau, Peter Yellen, Darlene Stuto, Helen McGara etc.
Cinematography by James Momel
In its latest 4K restoration, Ms. 45—Abel Ferrara’s 1981 revenge thriller—has never looked more electrifying, or more disturbing. A stunning new rendering of Ferrara’s gritty vision, Ms. 45 showcases New York City in all its stark, seething chaos: a place of beautiful ugliness, where the streets pulse with danger, desperation, and decay. The film, originally shot on 16mm, feels both of its time and eerily timeless, especially now in ultra-high-definition, where every grainy detail of Ferrara’s oppressive, neon-lit streets shines in a raw, unapologetic manner.
At the heart of this urban nightmare is Thana (Zoë Lund, credited as Zoë Tamerlis), a mute seamstress whose world shatters after she is brutally assaulted by a man on her way home, then attacked again in her home. Her muteness is both a powerful thematic element and an artistic choice, amplifying her trauma, her rage, and her vengeance in a way that spoken words never could. Thana’s descent into violence is stark, visceral, and unrelenting, making her a strange kind of anti-hero in this world of moral decay. Ferrara’s direction is clinical, cold, and absolutely uncompromising—each frame holds a sharp, almost surgical precision, magnifying the madness of her mind and the city itself.
What truly elevates Ms. 45 beyond its genre limitations is the electric performance of Zoë Tamerlis/Lund. At just 17 years old when the film was made, Lund’s portrayal of Thana is nothing short of revelatory. She is the beating heart of this disturbing narrative, lighting up the screen with a fierce, magnetic presence that could have easily made her a Hollywood star—had the industry been ready for her. While many of the supporting cast either cannot act or over-act, Lund’s both vulnerable and terrifying, her expression often the only indication of her character’s state of mind. Her journey from victim to vengeful force is tragic, yet always compelling.
Had Lund chosen to pursue a more conventional career, she would likely have ascended to Hollywood’s A-list—her look was captivating, her screen presence undeniable—but the indie, underground scene was where she truly thrived. In Ms. 45, she is a tragic figure of youth lost to the violence of the world around her, and in the midst of it all, she shines, her performance capturing the raw, cathartic essence of a girl pushed too far. Further, Lund’s performance peaks in one of the most iconic sequences of the film—Thana’s nun fancy-dress shootout. Drenched in blood and surrounded by chaos, she dissects the partygoers in slow-motion with a terrifying calm, her eyes wide with cold sorrow. It’s a juxtaposition of innocence and savagery, like a child playing with fire and discovering its destructive power. Kudos to the deranged soundtrack here which really ramps up Ferrara’s nightmarish vision.
Ms. 45 is NOT a film for the faint of heart or the easily offended. It’s violent, raw, and unapologetically brutal, with moments that will leave you questioning your own reaction to Thana’s vengeful spree. There is something deeply primal about the film—the way it feeds off its viewers’ discomfort, forcing them to confront Thana’s rage. It’s a film that revels in its own madness, and yet somehow, Ferrara and Lund manage to make revenge feel like an art form. It’s as stylish as it is savage, as haunting as it is exhilarating.
In conclusion, Ms. 45 is a genre-defining thriller, a masterpiece of violent cinema that has lost none of its power with time. The 4K restoration is a perfect showcase for Ferrara’s vision, and Zoë Lund’s performance is a revelation—her beauty and intensity burn through the screen, making you wonder what might have been had she chosen a different path. But for those of us lucky enough to witness this film in all its gritty glory, it’s impossible not to see her as a true underground legend. Whether or not you’re ready for it, Ms. 45is visceral, stylish, and uncompromising cinema—one that will stay with you long after the credits roll and that evil saxophone soundtrack beat fades out.
Cult Film Review: Entertainment (2015) at The Nickel Cinema
The Nickel Cinema in Clerkenwell feels like a hidden temple for London’s true film obsessives — a grindhouse gem tucked into the city’s polished heart. It’s the kind of place where the air hums with cigarette ghosts and celluloid dreams, where the screen flickers with everything from outlaw art films to midnight slashers and sleazy euro-thrillers. The décor has that lived-in, clandestine vibe — red velvet worn thin, neon bleeding through the dark, and an underground bar serving the kind of cocktails that taste like trouble.
It’s not just a cinema — it’s a refuge for the subversive, the cultish, the weird and the wonderful. You’ll find Anger next to Fassbinder, Fulci, Lynch, Jodorowsky, Korine, Ferrara, Argento, Waters, Kern, Miike, Ferrara, Korine Noe, Cohen, Breillat, Refn and many more bleeding into audiences who actually cheer when the projector rattles. The Nickel doesn’t chase trends; it worships the offbeat, the forgotten, and the dangerous. While feeling still quite new, the place somehow still feels gloriously dirty — and absolutely right up your alley. If not there is a strip club next door if that kind of business takes your fancy.
Last month I watched Rick Alverson’s Entertainment (2015) at The Nickel Cinema.
Entertainment is like watching the American dream rot in real time — a hypnotic, desolate odyssey through the dust and despair of the open road. Gregg Turkington is excellent as he plays “The Comedian,” a hollowed-out version of his Neil Hamburger persona, trudging through a series of soul-scorching stand-up gigs in half-empty bars, bowling alleys, and desert motels. Each performance is a small act of self-immolation — jokes that fall flat, laughter that curdles, a man dissolving behind the microphone as his identity blurs into the toxic sludge of showbiz delusion.
Director Rick Alverson shoots it all with a slow, clinical beauty — wide, frozen frames that turn America’s forgotten corners into alien landscapes. “The Comedian” drifts from neon-soaked diners to sulfurous desert plains, to prisons, to dead Western towns. Further, it contains some incredible locations including an unforgettable sequence at an aircraft graveyard — rows of dead machines basking in the sun, like monuments to ambition and decay. While low in budget the film makes use of such stunning locales, plus impactful acting interludes from John C. Reilly, Michael Cera and Tye Sheridan.
The film is not a comedy, not really — more anti-comedy or like an autopsy of one. Entertainment (2015) is a brutal, mesmeric study of loneliness, alienation, and the sick joke at the heart of performance itself. It’s the road movie as existential purgatory — unbearably awkward, strangely poetic, and utterly unforgettable. It doesn’t so much as have a beginning, middle and end, but a series of events which we are dropped into and experience until the credits suddenly roll. I like to ponder “The Comedian” is still out there, living and dying, on and off stage.
Written by Mike Leigh – Based on 1970 stage play by Mike Leigh
Produced by Leslie Blair
Cast: Anne Raitt, Sarah Stephenson, Eric Allan, Joolia Cappleman, Mike Bradwell, Donald Sumpter etc.
Cinematography by Bahram Manocheri
Camera Assistant: Roger Pratt
Edited by Leslie Blair
One of the quiet yet profound joys of cultural life is finding a creative or sporting figure—or team—whose journey you follow from an early age, growing alongside their work as it evolves. Whether it’s the cinematic brilliance of the Coen Brothers or Mike Leigh, the ever-shifting energy of Primal Scream, or the lifelong, often agonising commitment to Tottenham Hotspur FC, these long-term relationships offer a deep sense of continuity. They become personal landmarks in our emotional and cultural landscapes, threading through decades of change and grounding us with shared history, joy, and—especially in Spurs’ case—a touch of heartache.
I was born just a year before Mike Leigh’sBleak Moments debuted in 1971, and it became a defining cultural touchstone for me. First encountering it in the early 1980’s, I was captivated by its raw honesty and quiet power—a film I returned to again and again on that solid-format VHS tape over the years. It marked the beginning of a lifelong relationship with Leigh’s work, a body of cinema that has shaped and shadowed my own personal and cultural journey. That connection endures to this day, most recently renewed with his 2025 release, Hard Truths—a testament to a career and vision that continue to evolve with undiminished integrity.
Bleak Moments centres on Sylvia (Anne Raitt), a lonely, introspective young woman navigating the quiet desolation of her suburban life while caring for her mentally challenged sister, Hilda (Sarah Stephenson). Trapped between duty and desire, Sylvia reaches tentatively toward human connection—most notably with a shy schoolteacher—yet every encounter is marked by awkward silences and emotional hesitations. Mike Leigh crafts a delicate, unflinching portrait of isolation and unmet longing, where the most powerful moments are found in what remains unsaid. Indeed, I would say it would have a powerful influence on awkward cinema or television such as Gervais and Merchant’s, seminal show The Office.
I hadn’t seen the film for twenty years and in a packed Prince Charles Cinema, what struck me was how Bleak Moments, while raw and unvarnished in style, unfolds with a beautifully episodic structure that gently accumulates emotional weight. Each scene offers a quiet vignette—moments of everyday awkwardness, tentative exchanges, and domestic stillness—that together create a deeply human portrait of loneliness and restraint. Despite its sombre tone, the film is laced with dry, observational humour and a deep sense of pathos, revealing the absurdity and ache of unspoken lives.
Mike Bradwell’s Norman and his dryly hilarious songs, and the most awkward of “romantic” dinner scenes in the Chinese restaurant just stood out to me as deeply funny. Raitt’s performance too is a masterclass of comedic understatement. Overall, these qualities—emotional nuance, character-driven storytelling, and a commitment to realism—would become defining hallmarks of Mike Leigh’s oeuvre, already fully formed in this striking debut. Finally, it was great to see and hear from Leigh, now in his eighties, answering some great questions with sharp wit and batting away some stupid ones too with his usual intelligence and droll honesty. Leigh remains a hero in my life’s cultural journey.
Produced by Emerald Fennell, Josey McNamara and Margot Robbie
Cast: Barry Keoghan, Jacob Elordi, Rosamund Pike, Richard E. Grant, Alison Oliver, Archie Madekwe, Carey Mulligan, Paul Rhys, etc.
Cinematography by Linus Sandgren
*** MAY CONTAIN SPOILERS ***
As the awards garnered upon Emerald Fennell’s brilliant Promising Young Woman (2020) will testify, she is clearly a major talent. Fennell has also acted in TV shows such as Call the Midwife and The Crown, as well as writing and producing the second series of Killing Eve. Not only is Fennell an excellent actress, writer, director and producer, but is also now an Oscar and BAFTA winner. Thus, Fennell’s “difficult second film” arrives in the guise of the pitch black comedy,Saltburn (2023). Although to describe this hilarious, bleak, sexy, and often twisted exploration of the British class system as such evidently tests the very definition of comedy.
Saltburn (2023) is set in 2006. Oliver Quick (Barry Keoghan) attends Oxford University as a naive fresher with an inferiority complex and desire for company. While he is incredibly intelligent, coming from a lower class background places bookish Oliver as a very small fish in big water. Especially when compared to the so-called Oxford elite including handsome and wealthy, Felix Catton (Jacob Elordi) and his cousin, the handsome and not-as-wealthy, Farleigh Start (Archie Madekwe). While Farleigh is suspicious of Oliver, Jacob soon befriends him and takes the Northerner under his wing. The two connect and form an “odd couple” bromance, with Felix even going so far as to invite Oliver to his stately home, Saltburn, for the summer. There we meet the rest of Felix’s family including his flaky sister, Venetia (Alison Oliver), eccentric father, Sir James (Richard E. Grant) and effervescent mother, Lady Elspeth (Rosamund Pike).
After building Oliver and Felix’s characters carefully during their time at Oxford, Fennell’s savage and satirical screenplay gathers pace in the second act at Saltburn. Here Oliver tries to fit in and ingratiate himself into the Catton family, but it soon becomes clear that however friendly they may be, he will only ever be an outsider to them. Simultaneously, Farleigh sees Oliver as a rival for the Cattons’ emotional and financial affections and the two begin a retaliatory personal war amidst the balmy summer days, breakfasts, dinner parties and social gatherings. Oliver’s main journey is to connect as much with Felix as possible, so much so his passion veers toward obsession. But Felix is a roaming spirit and a hedonist and does not quite requite Oliver’s feelings. Yet, Felix does show compassion for Oliver, as illustrated when he drives him on a mercy mission to visit Oliver’s family. This is where the story takes an intriguing and ever deadly turn.
I cannot recommend Saltburn (2023) enough for its fantastically witty script, devastatingly brilliant cast and some quite disgustingly explicit, but contextually justifiable, character moments and scenes. Fennell takes the setting and structure of Evelyn Waugh’s Brideshead Revisited and turns it upside down, spinning a devious tale of infatuation, love, privilege and social climbing. Through the character Oliver Quick, and I really don’t want to give anything away, there is a powerful and jaw-dropping character arc of upward mobility. Rosamund Pike’s and Keoghan’s performances are both amazing and award-worthy. While the final act twists certainly do shock and surprise they arguably are rushed when compared with the more effective pacing of the opening and middle acts. Moreover, I am also unsure why the exquisite cinematography and stunning locations were presented in the 4:3 (1:33:1) aspect ratio. Why squeeze in Linus Sandgren’s light and framing and not expand them to the widescreen format?
Ultimately, Emerald Fennell proves herself an important voice in British cinema. Unafraid to test the boundaries of taste, genre, and audience expectations, she has crafted one of the most consistently challenging films of the year with Saltburn (2023). One could easily describe the themes presented here as a critique of the upper classes and how the uber-rich are bad people to be brought down to their knees. However, Fennell’s script is not that simplistic. It cleverly careers between love/hate for the characters and irony-bombing the class system, before becoming a damning indictment on the darkest flaws of humanity. Lest one forget the indelible one-liners throughout and THAT final dance sequence, which are both to die for!
Written by: Wim Wenders, Peter Handke, Richard Reitinger
Produced by: Wim Wenders, Anatole Dauman
Cast: Bruno Ganz, Solveig Dommartin, Otto Sander, Curt Bois, Peter Falk, Nick Cave, etc.
Cinematography: Henri Alekan
*** MAY CONTAIN SPOILERS ***
I hadn’t seen Wim Wenders cinematic masterpiece,Wings of Desire (1987), for many years. Probably thirty-three years. I’m glad I waited so long because I think I am mature enough now to appreciate the poetry of the filmmaking style and the soulful gravity of the characters and themes on display.
I am of the belief that cinema is a collaborative craft in general. Yet, on fleeting occasions a film will be released that transcends the craft of the medium and become art. Wings of Desire (1987) is such a film. Moreover, while I am not a religious person watching Wings of Desire (1987) is as close to experiencing a spiritual filmic happening as I could have. It truly is a thing of transcendent beauty concerned as it is with the afterlife, the soul, humanity, angels, life, love, death and rebirth.
Angels walk amongst the living in a Berlin separated by the wall. Voices reveal their inner most thoughts as said Angels listen, watch, witness and gather human experience, thoughts and emotions. The Angels led by Damiel (Bruno Ganz) and Cassiel (Otto Sander) inhabit Berlin aiming to assemble, preserve and testify reality. In a stunningly beautiful opening sequence the gliding camerawork, chiming harps, poetic voiceovers and sublime photography introduces both a majestic world and compelling characterisations. The monochrome film sets a moody glow illuminating and beautifying the urban locales. If you didn’t know, the black & white sequences were shot through a filter made from a stocking that belonged to cinematographer Henri Alekan’s grandmother.
Wim Wenders directs Wings of Desire (1987) with an assured confidence throughout. Every stylistic and formal choice is driven by the characters’ hearts and an imaginative vision of both reality and the afterlife. It is incredible that Wenders and his production team did not have a traditional script when filming began. Thus, the poetic feel of the film derives from a series of experimental concepts and improvisatory creative choices. Having said that, there is a strong narrative spine amidst the seemingly loose narrative and episodic bones. The anchor amidst these hypnotic vignettes is Damiel’s journey of falling in love, ceasing to be immortal and becoming human.
As Damiel experiences the pain of existing outside human life, Bruno Ganz’s performance is heartbreakingly moving. Damiel also finds love too for Solveig Dammartin’s circus artist. His romantic longing and empathy for her and humanity overall is unforgettable. I mean this celestial and immortal being desires the opportunity to feel, taste and love. There is also humour amidst the pathos too, with a supporting story that follows the actor, Peter Falk, working on a film in Berlin. His brilliant scenes provide a quirky counterpoint to Damiel’s celestial crisis and fledgling romance. Indeed, Peter Falk called his role in Wings of Desire (1987) “the craziest thing I was ever offered”. When Wenders told him his part had not been developed yet, Falk responded, “I’ve worked that way with John Cassavetes. I prefer working without a script.”
Wings of Desire (1987) is deservedly acclaimed as one of the best films ever made. I couldn’t agree more, such is its cinematic power and beauty. It combines both visual, aural and literary styles almost to perfection. Thematically it is just as impressive. While it is a universal story about life, death, love and sacrifice, the fact it is set in Berlin adds an incredible gravitas. The politics and separation caused by the Cold War course through the veins of the film like ice. Nevertheless, Wim Wenders and his creative team wholly reject the gloom of oppression, choosing hope, life and love over said deathly wall.*
Mark: 10 out of 11
(*Note: Interestingly, filming the actual Berlin Wall was prohibited, so a replica of the wall twice had to be built close to the original. The first fake wall warped in the rain because the contractor cheated the producers and built it from wood.)
I haven’t seen any of Celine Sciamma’s previous films, but based on the romantic drama, Portrait of a Lady on Fire (2019), she is a filmmaker of formidable power and vision. I believe this is her fourth feature film directorial release and it is as sumptuous, moving, exquisitely shot and constructed a love story as you are going to witness. Moreover, it is proof that the art of screenwriting, compared to many by-the-numbers Hollywood film productions, is NOT dead.
The story is very simple. At the end of the 18th century, a young painter, Marianne, (Noemie Merlant) is commissioned to create a portrait of a young woman, Heloise (Adele Haenel). Heloise is, as is the tradition of the time, required by her mother (Valeria Golino), to marry a Milanese nobleman. He needs to see the portrait in advance in order to agree to the wedding. The only catch is, the insular Heloise, does not want to be painted for all manner of understandable reasons. What this establishes is two very intriguing characters, both with different emotions and desires.
Following the beautifully rendered story foundation, what follows is a magnetic series of scenes which subtly push these two empathetic characters together. Marianne is the artist who, at first keeps her distance, spying and analysing Heloise. Heloise is cool, sensitive and a prisoner on the Brittany island, trapped by the waves of the sea and her mother’s insistence on a society wedding. Over the space of a few days the walking companions become drawn to each other both artistically and emotionally. But, it’s no sordid desire for lust, rather a respectful and honest joining in romance. We, as the audience, literally see love grow before us thanks to some incredible acting from the leads.
Often the cinema critics will heap praise on a film and I will wonder what they have been watching. However, in regard to both Parasite (2019) and Portrait of a Lady on Fire (2019), the plaudits are so well deserved. Both are brilliantly written and shot works of cinema, that in the past may have been consigned to just the arthouse circuit. Further, given the film is about painting, it is unsurprisingly Portrait of a Lady on Fire (2019) is framed, lit and composed with an eye for the artistic. Yet, it isn’t just the look and colour of the film that impresses. Sciamma and her cinematographer, Claire Mathon, also create a series of haunting shots which will be indelibly scorched on my mind.
In terms of the themes, the film is very powerful too. As well the notion of art as a means of representing love, the narrative explores concepts of female equality and solidarity. There is an interesting subplot involving a member of the household staff, which adds to the thematic texture. Furthermore, the performances by all the actresses are superb too as Sciamma directs with such confidence. I also liked that the critique of patriarchal society was implicit rather than didactic. Also subtly realised are the tasteful love scenes, which never feel exploitational. My only minor criticism is that the opening hour could, arguably, have been trimmed slightly. However, what do you leave out of a film as beautifully composed, delicately written and emotionally compelling as Portrait of a Lady on Fire (2019)? I, a mere mortal, am not qualified to say in the face of such mesmerizing cinema.
I started this blog in October 2013 with a review of a low budget sci-fi film called Arrival of Wang (2013). 500 posts later and I am still going. I, like many, don’t make any money out of writing this blog, but I really enjoy it. I have also made connections with other bloggers and film fans all over the world and I find that brilliant too.
I thought it may be interesting to look at the TOP TEN most viewed reviews or articles I have written. So, excluding views for the Home page/Archives clicks, here are the top ten articles with links in the heading.
HBO’s adaptation of George R. R. Martin is one of the greatest television narratives ever. Full of action, intrigue, treachery, quests, sex and murder, it also had some great dialogue. Here I listed six great speeches from the show.
Another classic European film review gets decent numbers. This is an academic essay more than a review, but a worthy analysis of Louis Malle’s brilliant wartime set drama.
I still cannot believe that Rik Mayall is dead. He was such a hero of mine growing up and genuinely one of the funniest people that ever existed. R.I.P Rik Mayall! This article is a tribute to both his genius and my love of one of his hilarious TV comedies: Mr Jolly Lives Next Door.
Another classic film scene from another classic film gets into the top ten! I should probably write more of these!! Sergio Leone’s gangster epic is rarely screened on television but it is as amazing as it is long.
Ken Loach is one of my favourite filmmakers in terms of both quality and consistency of cinematic output. His incredibly raw depiction of Northern life in Kes (1969) gave us many memorable scenes, including this one about the injustices of the education system.
Aside from reviews of past and present films and TV shows, I occasionally do more focused articles. This one picked some great films that tell their story in one hundred minutes or less. Maybe I should do one about classic films over one hundred and eighty minutes too?
Perhaps it’s because “sex” is included in the tags of this review of Park Chan-Wook’s erotically charged crime noir, or because it is brilliantly written, who knows! Anyway, it’s the highest seen new release review so it must be of some interest to some people.
THE END OF THE WORLD
Well, that’s the top ten most viewed articles out of the five hundred I have posted. For the record, the LEAST viewed article with only SEVEN VIEWS is this one: APOCALYPSE WHEN? VISIONS OF FUTURE EARTH! It goes to show that no one is interested in reading about filmic visions of the end of the world. C’est la vie!
Now I would like to broaden the subject and have a go at defining some basic film character archetypes. My definition of this has some crossover with personas, but archetypes are not necessarily the component which make up the character – they ARE the character!
Archetypes are a common or typical shorthand; a tool writers, directors and actors can use to define character during the creative process. They are not stereotyping though. They are standardized models and structures that can be built upon to fully flesh out a character.
The archetypes I would like to consider are: Everyman/Woman, Hero, Super-Hero, Anti-Hero, Nemesis, Mentor, Sidekick and Lover/Romantic Interest. Obviously, many of these archetypes can combine, especially in more complex films, plus I’m sure there are loads of others. However, I will limit myself to these for now.
EVERYMAN / WOMAN
The staple for many, many movies is an everyman or woman or boy or girl (or gender fluid) character who is easy to relate to for the audience. It could be Tom Hanks in Castaway (2000), or Tom Hanks in Sully (2016), or Tom Hanks in basically everything – even Toy Story (1995). They tend toward the working or ordinary class with regular jobs and family units. Their stories will be everyday, or they will find themselves facing incredible situations. Alfred Hitchcock favoured everyman and woman characters who would be thrown into dangerous situations. Actors who excel in such roles include: Hanks, James Stewart, Meryl Streep, Amy Adams, Francis McDormand, Jack Lemmon and many more.
HERO
Many characters can begin ordinary or everyday, but over the course of a film become heroes. Luke Skywalker for instance is an bright farm kid with dreams of joining the academy. A series of contrasting events then cause his rise to discovery and heroism. On the other hand, some heroes are fully formed such as James Bond and Indiana Jones. The everyman character and hero are often combined, like with John McCLane or underdog characters such as Rocky Balboa. My favourite hero arcs are stories where the character starts in lower status such as The Terminator (1984), Django Unchained (2012) and Harriet (2019).
SUPER-HERO
So what’s the difference between a hero and a super-hero? For me the hero may be capable of incredible feats of action and endeavour, yet he or she is ultimately mortal. Thus, while they may be a super-hero on the surface, Batman and Iron Man are heroes to me; albeit mechanically improved ones. Superman, Wonder Woman and Thor, for example, have god-like powers, thus defining them as SUPER! Obviously, there are crossovers as illustrated by Peter Parker, Captain America and Captain Marvel. All of them begin as everyboy/man/woman characters and become super-heroes due to military experimentation or being impacted by incredible events which cause physical transformation.
ANTI-HERO
I love a good anti-hero. I think they are my favourite character archetype. They can be charismatic and just on the side of the righteous, but misanthropic and sarcastic like say, Wolverine or Blade. They can be on the wrong side of the law, but redeem themselves at the end of a film like Danny Archer and Han Solo. They can be outsiders or loners like Travis Bickle. They can be hard on the outside and soft on the inner like Juno. Moreover, certain actors have cornered the market on anti-heroes such as Jack Nicholson, Ellen Page, Leonardo DiCaprio and Clint Eastwood. My favourite anti-heroes are often cursed with supernatural forces causing them to be trapped by certain powers. The ‘Wolfman’, Lawrence Talbot, and Carrie White are fine instances of this.
NEMESIS
Given it is pantomime season there’s no harm is looking at villains! For me the greatest villains are the ones which actually have a valid cause or point. Of course, I don’t agree with their actions as they will generally involve killing people or destroying the Earth or Universe. However, villains such as Robert DeNiro’s heinous Max Cady had valid motivation. Likewise, Thanos’ plan to wipe out half of everyone was founded on sound environmental ideology. This doesn’t make it right though. Sympathetic nemeses are also interesting like Marvel’s Erik Killmonger. Moreover, King Kong for example, begins life as a threatening monster, but ultimately ends up being sympathetic compared to man. Nonetheless, you cannot beat a good old fashioned baddie like Hannibal Lecter, The Terminator, Hans Gruber, Nurse Ratched and one of my favourites, The Wicked Witch of the West.
MENTOR
The Mentor character can take many forms. They are very valuable in supporting a hero or heroine on their adventures, plus providing vital exposition or the rules of the world information. The archetypal mentor archetype is a wise, older character like Morpheus, Alfred Pennyworth, Gandalf, Mr Miyagi, or Obi Wan Kenobi. Moreover, they will often have powers and magically assist those around them. The wonderfully helpful Mary Poppins is a great example of this. Every so often mentoring is rejected by the younger partner. A case in point being Brad Pitt’s Detective Mills eschewing Morgan Freeman’s Somerset’s sage advice with deadly results. Then again, mentoring can take a more twisted and controlling turn as seen with The Devil Wears Prada’s (2006), Miranda Priestly, and in Paul Thomas Anderson’s recent arthouse classic, The Phantom Thread (2017).
SIDEKICK
The sidekick is a lower status character that can be an ally, helper, friend or even enemy that also provides comic relief or dramatic tension. Different from the bromance or traditional buddy character, because that double-act dynamic is on an equal level of status. Great sidekicks include: Hermione Granger, Short Round, Robin, Chewbacca, Dr Watson and many more. Often, the sidekick actually becomes more interesting, funny and memorable than the lead protagonist. Examples of this include the brilliant Hit Girl, Igor, Donkey and the aforementioned Hermione. Sometimes the sidekick takes a darker route such as Loki and Lady Macbeth, who use their influence for evil rather than good.
THE LOVER / ROMANTIC INTEREST
So, the love interest can be a romantic extension of the sidekick but can also be a mentor and even a villain. I would differentiate the love interest character from traditional romantic comedies or dramas. For instance, in When Harry Met Sally (1989), Sally and Harry are of equal status and classed as everyman and woman archetypes. However, in James Bond films the love interest is traditionally a female conquest. More in depth love interest characters are those that are not just trophies; they become equal in the story. Princess Leia is a heroine and love interest, likewise Marion Ravenwood in Raiders of the Lost Ark (1981). Most recently, and a reflection of our progressive times, Diana Prince/Wonder Woman found a fine love interest in Chris Pine’s heroic Steve Trevor. Thankfully, the outdated “damsel in distress” stereotype is being consigned to the past and now we have characters of all backgrounds and gender represented on an equal basis.
CONCLUSION
As I said earlier this list is just an exploration of archetypes. There are a number I could have included. That stock character the wife or husband is one which always appears regularly in films. Often, they are waiting by the phone or television screen as some disaster befalls their partner. Lastly, I could have included the double-act, the team or the ensemble archetype; where one or more characters combine to create a whole. But, I think I’ll save that for another essay.
The Cinema Fix presents 