Film Review 174 – Challengers

Watched: 4th May 2024

Rating: 4/5 stars

   I had concerns that this would not live up to the hype, but I loved every second of Challengers. To be fair, the only other film of Luca Guadagnino’s that I have seen is Call Me By Your Name, so there was a long shadow to escape, but both films feel quite different to me. Challengers especially feels much more intense, in terms of both what is at stake and how its emotions are portrayed. It almost made me sad, seeing how Tashi, Patrick, and Art go from happy-go-lucky teenagers with little real cares in the world to these three adults so intrinsically defined by their relationship with their sport that they all just veer between robotic focus and bouts of wild, unrestrained indulgence. They are a trio whose connection ultimately doesn’t seem healthy for any of them, but who cannot escape the bonds that bind them together. What makes the drama so compelling is how different they each are – Tashi with her hyper-focus, embodied so well by Zendaya, Art’s laissez-faire swagger (Josh O’Connor did a really good job of making me dislike him), and Patrick pulled from pillar to post between them. This was a very sexy film, made all the more impactful by how incredible the soundtrack was. I found myself on tenterhooks while watching the match scenes, as if I were watching a tennis game in real life. Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross should commend themselves for a job very well done.

Originally posted on Letterboxd on 15th May 2024: https://boxd.it/6pqm6b

Film Review 172 – Consequences

Watched: 1st May 2024

Rating: 3.5/5 stars

   This is a pretty brutal film, but one I’m glad I watched. I confess that, even with how monstrous Zele’s behaviour is, Timon Šturbej has a magnetising performance – he perfectly embodies the dangerous allure of a wild animal lording around its enclosure, the ferocity and strength and power that is simultaneously repelling and compelling. No wonder Andrej finds himself drawn to this unstoppable force with such intensity, like a moth ready to throw itself into the fire. Like many modern European films, I think Consequences tries very hard to make it seem like what it’s depicting is solely real life, with lots of silence and lots of glances, but in a film about hidden longing, the silence and glances work. I think Matej Zemljič is tremendous – he shows us the cruelty Andrej is more than capable of, but also the capacity for love. You feel like the character has always had an edge to him, but one that’s been sharpened by the trappings of the society he lives in, though you have to wonder where the blame really does start.

Originally posted on Letterboxd on 12th May 2024: https://boxd.it/6o5mnF

Film Review 168 – Monkey Man

Watched: 5th April 2024

Rating: 3.5/5 stars

   Hurtling through things at a breakneck pace, Monkey Man is, in all honesty, a pretty impressive directorial debut for Dev Patel. As the titular character, he’s also not bad – he captures Kid’s haunted, hunted soul with a lot of gusto, balancing the character’s trauma and how it manifests (such as in that very good bathroom scene) with the fire constantly burning in him, the rage that keeps him going when everything else is gone. As a work of social commentary, the film is also quite insightful, even though it took me a while to figure out exactly what side of the conflict Kid was on (not a fault, it’s one of the film’s better instances of show don’t tell). The action sequences are well-choreographed, and I was frequently either on the edge of my seat or – when it was bloodier – looking away.

   What I would say is that the film, overall, did feel pretty familiar. I didn’t like the ‘remember who you are’ section, purely because I feel like that’s something you see in every single revenge thriller of this ilk and it felt so cliched here particularly. Nevertheless, minor quibbles aside, if this is Patel’s first foray into filmmaking then I think his craft will only get more refined the more he tries.

Originally posted on Letterboxd on 27th April 2024: https://boxd.it/6dyand

Film Review 167 – Perfect Days

Watched: 22nd March 2024

Rating: 4/5 stars

   Perfect Days is more akin to slice-of-life than any kind of big, evolving drama, but it’s mesmerising. We wake up with Hirayama, watch him go about his business, feel the rhythms of his life and work as they ebb and flow away from and back to his normality. Of course there are disruptions, little forks in the river that take us away from the familiarity of the shore, but we never lose sight of it. Much of the film, when Hirayama does not have these disruptions, is spent in silence, but it’s the comfortable silence you have with a long-time friend, a silence that is not a symptom of a lack, but which in itself communicates something. I found myself wanting to watch Hirayama clean toilets forever, because he does it with such attention to detail and such genuine pride in his work. In a way, it reminded me somewhat of what I liked about The Taste of Things, another release I saw this year where much of the focus was on manual tasks – there is a pleasure to be found in a job well done, especially when you are watching someone else do it.

   What makes me vastly prefer Perfect Days, though, is the emotional weight anchoring it.  Kōji Yakusho is phenomenal as Hirayama. Like I’ve said, I could watch him work for days on end, but what I also appreciated was the subtleties of his performance, along with the subtleties of Wim Wenders’ script. There is a trail of breadcrumbs to follow through the urban jungle of Tokyo, and as the film progresses we realise that there is something in Hirayama’s past, a cloud that – like Travis in Paris, Texas – hangs over the sunshine of today. It’s never quite addressed, though enough hints are given that we can hazard a guess, but Wenders does not want us to linger in the past. We’re confronted with the here and now, the healing power of relationships, music, rediscovering your inner child and the little joys of life. Perfect Days is a beautiful work of art that takes life slowly, but takes it seriously at the same time.

Originally posted on Letterboxd on 11th April 2024: https://boxd.it/66TImx

Film Review 165 – Anatomy of a Fall

Watched: 14th March 2024

Rating: 4.5/5 stars

   Did Sandra do it? Did she do it? Who knows! Who even cares (that much) when the mystery of trying to figure it out is so compelling? Anatomy of a Fall leaves just enough breadcrumbs to follow along, but still, does it lead you the destination that is factually true, or just your favoured interpretation? We are given just enough of the outline to feel confident in colouring in its interior, but even still, there’s always the nagging suspicion that something has been missed, that something has been misunderstood. Sandra Hüller, in her third performance of the year for me, is the outstanding central piece of this puzzle – there is an unflappable sense of calm to her, and yet you’re never quite sure if it’s really who she is or if she is just a consummate actress. The scrutiny placed on her is unbearable – the court scenes alone, while compelling viewing, are equally as stressful, and watching her navigating this minefield, trying desperately to not fall into its pitfalls, is riveting. The supporting cast are fantastic as well, and a special shout-out must go to Antoine Reinartz as the prosecutor (so slay that you can’t help but appreciate him even if he is going after Sandra with the appetite of a hellhound). This was absolutely one of the best watches of the year so far that had every cog in my head turning frantically trying to figure things out, and I loved every second of it.

Originally posted on Letterboxd on 11th April 2024: https://boxd.it/63iseh

Film Review 164 – Monster

Watched: 11th March 2024

Rating: 4/5 stars

   I didn’t expect Monster to be as queer as it was, so you can imagine my delight when I saw the pieces falling into place and began to realise exactly what was going on. The perspective of each act shifting so suddenly is a very interesting narrative conceit – you initially think this is the story of a mother looking for justice for her son in a society that has lots of biases against her, then you think it’s the story of a teacher who goes from being a heartless villain to someone falsely accused of cruelty. Then it transpires that all this time, there’s been a story going on just under the surface, the relationship between two young boys trying to find themselves in a society that is so quick to judge, so quick to point out what it thinks is wrong.

   Our three leading actors – Sakura Ando, Eita Nagayama, and especially Soya Kurokawa (for whom I predict big things in the future) – play each of their parts with perfection. Ando brings the sensitive fire of a mother to Saori, and the scenes of her in the schoolroom pleading for the teachers to do something about what she thinks is a teacher abusing her son are the most gripping of the film. It highlights the inhumanity of a system dedicated to trying to maintain a clean image, to sweeping things under the rug so that image won’t be tarnished, all while Ando tries to appeal from the opposite, human side. Nagayama is our uncaring villain, cold and brash, and then we see him as a genuinely empathetic and supportive teacher, see how a narrative over which he has no control begins to rip his life apart piece by piece. With Kurokawa, any queer person must recognise Minato’s struggle. How do you process those feelings of first love, when you begin to realise that your life is not just your own to lead, and that the path you need to walk will never be the path that society expects you to? Throughout each character’s emotional journey, we have a sombre, powerful score by Ryuichi Sakamoto, one that charts the very recognisable human drama unfolding before our eyes.

Originally posted on Letterboxd on 25th March 2024: https://boxd.it/621Txd

Film Review 163 – Notes on a Scandal

Watched: 9th March 2024

Rating: 4/5 stars

   Judi Dench as Barbara is one of the most hilariously sinister characters I’ve ever seen. The opening sequence of her looking menacingly out at a bunch of school pupils coming in while her voiceover labels them future terrorists is one of the most darkly comedic introductions to a film I’ve ever seen – and one that sets the tone perfectly. This is a grim film, make no mistake about it, one whose story is quite serious for all the humour one may find circling around it. That it confronts it so head on – for example, by actually showing the naked torso of the student with whom Cate Blanchett is having her sordid affair – makes for quite unsettling viewing, but when you have two actresses a strong as Dench and Blanchett going head-to-toe, you can’t look away. To watch Dench mechanically and methodically put her traps into place around Blanchett, to watch it all come crumbling down at the end, is delicious.

Originally posted on Letterboxd on 24th March 2024: https://boxd.it/60Z5Jv

Film Review 162 – Dune: Part Two

Watched: 8th March 2024

Rating: 5/5 stars

   The spectacle of watching this in IMAX format was frankly incomparable. I watched the first one in a normal cinema when it came out, and still found myself blown away by the effects and sounds – but last night took the biscuit. Dune 2 is nearly three hours’ worth of unrelenting spectacle, a tour-de-force that ducks and weaves, charges and feints, pushes through everything in its path without ever losing a single second of its own momentum. I hate sand as well, but it’s never looked so good on the silver screen, those wide shots of desolate dunes (see what I did there) haunting in their beauty beneath the pre-dawn sky, or else the blistering open desert at high noon, where earth and sky seem to melt into one. And then you contrast this with Giedi Prime, the unsettling glamour of its fighting pits, everything in a monochromatic, otherworldly glow that only highlights the inhumanity of its inhabitants, their almost-human faces and expressions. Dune 2 is a feast for not just the eyes, but all the senses.

   What of its story though? A problem I found with the initial Dune, that it sacrificed some of its heart in order to build its world (a necessary evil, to be sure), is all but gone in its sequel. Timothée Chalamet’s descent from hero to anti-hero, as Paul Atreides begins to resign himself to the destiny he has long tried to resist, is sobering to watch, but what is equally as gripping is the effect it has on his relationship with Chani – and how Zendaya captures the character’s natural sharpness and softness, the love she has for Paul tempered with the fear she has of him becoming someone unrecognisable. Meanwhile you have Rebecca Ferguson giving another scintillating turn as Lady Jessica, all notions of Bene Gesserit planning and plotting cranked up to 100 as she endeavours to make a messiah of her son. Dune is a space opera whose story rests not on grand, intrinsic moral notions of good versus evil, but instead on the dynamics of power, family, prophecy and truth. Is Paul really the long-awaited saviour? Does that even matter, when so many around him – and he himself – believe it? This is a parable against the dangers of extremism, of religious fervour and how imperialism do nothing except to decimate cultures with centuries of history. Watching Zendaya standing alone – quite literally – against this oncoming storm is almost sad, though I can’t wait to see how it turns out in Dune Messiah.

   Likewise, now that the story is fully on its way, the closing chapter of this trilogy has a lot to live up to. Florence Pugh hints at moments of Irulan’s iron will, but I’m still waiting to see her blade fully brandished. Likewise, if I could ask for something of this film, it would have been slightly more of the imperial court, slightly more of the Bene Gesserit. When you’re adapting something so dense, changes are necessary though, and Denis Villeneuve shows that his hands are more than capable at holding this delicate balance.

Originally posted on Letterboxd on 21st March 2024: https://boxd.it/60pvWj

Film Review 160 – National Theatre Live: Vanya

Watched: 22nd February 2024

Rating: 4.5/5 stars

   Andrew Scott’s performance in Vanya – or should I say performances – is nothing short of mesmerising, spellbinding, singularly spectacular. For nearly two hours I found myself entranced at the chameleon ease with which he slid from role to role, shedding a skin and taking on a new one with such dexterity that it became hard, at points, to keep track of who he’s playing now. But how did he do this? The voices, the body language, the landscape of emotions on each face. Joy, sadness, anger, unrelenting anger that smoulders and simmers like black embers in a fire, burning itself, choking on its own smoke.

   When in high school, I read Uncle Vanya in English class, and remember being struck by the inability of its titular character to let go of the past, to come to terms with the fate that life has dealt him, to – put it bluntly – accept it and move on. We can all indulge ourselves in a little bit of rage against the machine that is destiny every now and again, but the bitterness that comes from perpetuating this anger is a slow-killing poison that burns in the veins, cuts off circulation, ultimately leaves nothing but withered decay behind. This is Vanya, funny, yes, but in the end a shell. It’s incredible how Scott can flit from this to Sonja, her youthful optimism and persistent positivity, and back again in a matter of seconds, with all the instinctive elegance and ease of walking across the stage. This is truly a performance that I don’t think I will ever forget.

Originally posted on Letterboxd on 9th March 2024: https://boxd.it/5Tw82j

Film Review 159 – The Taste of Things

Watched: 17th February 2024

Rating: 3/5 stars

   This is a visually stunning film. Juliette Binoche is beautiful, the gardens of the chateau are beautiful, the food is beautiful. Everything you see on the screen evokes the heady days of summer, pleasure as cerebral as it is sensual. It’s the pleasure of strolls in the warm grass, of the sun on your skin, but also of hands at work, the satisfaction of relaxing back and watching others involved in manual activity, a kind of chaos that is both frenzied and organised. The effect is almost soporific, in a good way – the first half an hour of just being completely immersed in the preparation of such an extravagant, and yet in many ways understated, feast is one of my favourite sequences of the film. From ordinary vegetables, meats, liquids, sauces, spices, herbs, and everything else, Binoche and Benoît Magimel conjure up courses fit for kings, gods, emperors. Watching them do so is magical, enough to make me want to give up veganism and gorge myself on baked Alaska – almost.

   And yet, after this first half an hour of wonderful simmering passion, something in this film rises to the surface that infuriates me, and I think it’s the pomposity of 19th century French gourmets who think that they invented eating. It took me back to my days as a university student, equally as annoyed by the French intellectual conception that it is only their identity forged so heavily by food, by how it is eaten, by how it is prepared, by how they must wax lyrical at every turn over this historical reference and that historical reference. Writing this, I worry that I sound almost anti-intellectual, but it left a sour taste in my mouth. Extravagance is not always inherently wrong, but you get the sense that Dodin and his gaggle of fawning lackeys partake of an ortolan or two far more often than most people would ever get the chance to, and it turns the flavour of this film into something that doesn’t fully sit right with me. A smidge overcooked, left too long in the oven, too sure that it will be liked no matter how it tastes.

Originally posted on Letterboxd on 25th February 2024: https://boxd.it/5R156H