Month: October 2016

The Girl on the Train

10/10/16

The Girl on the Train‘s transition from page to screen was inevitable: Paula Hawkins’ novel has been a huge hit, its popularity earning its author over ten million dollars, and pretty much guaranteeing that this film adaptation will attract a large audience.

It’s a thriller, of sorts, unpicking the tangled lives of three women. Rachel (Emily Blunt) is a tragic figure, an alcoholic, obsessed with her ex-husband, Tom (Justin Theroux), and the baby she never had. Anna (Rebecca Ferguson) is Tom’s new wife, and Megan (Haley Bennett), is a neighbour who works as Tom and Anna’s nanny  (yes, they do have a baby) and seems to have the perfect life – at least, as far as Rachel can tell from what she glimpses from the train. Let’s be honest, the story stretches credulity at times, and it’s kind of irritating that the women are all defined by their motherhood – or lack thereof. It verges on the histrionic in places, and there are moments where it lacks pace or drive. But, where it works, it does work well.

There’s a change of location: we’re in New York instead of London, but this isn’t detrimental to the film. In fact, the cinematography is lovely; the contrasts between the urban mayhem and the glassy smoothness of the lake help add a layer of eeriness and tension to the piece. And the shift is only geographical: the social and sexual mores of affluent white suburbanites seem similar in both locales.

Emily Blunt in particular deserves some accolades: she absolutely convinces as the drunken, broken Rachel, desperately searching for a way back to herself. And there’s a stellar supporting cast, including the ever fabulous Allison Janney and the ‘why-doesn’t-she-do-more?’ Lisa Kudrow.

Overall, then, it’s kind of… okay. There’s a soggy middle section where your mind might wander, but you’ll be pulled back in for the rather racier (if somewhat predictable) ending.

If you liked the book, you’ll probably like this.

3.8 stars

Susan Singfield

War On Everyone

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09/10/16

Writer/director John Michael McDonagh dazzled with his first two movies – The Guard and Calvary, both set in Ireland – but his relocation to New Mexico for the nihilistic War On Everyone has resulted in a decidedly botched end-product. It’s a bit like one of those budget boxes of fireworks you buy cheap after November 5th – sure, there are some stunning pyrotechnics in the box, but there’re also a lot of damp squibs and even a few complete duds.

Bob and Terry (in what may or may not be a knowing nod to The Likely Lads) are a pair of corrupt cops, careering gleefully around their home town, taking bribes, sharing class A drugs with their perps and mercilessly beating up anybody who stands in their way. Much of this is presented as knockabout comedy, though most of it is very hard to laugh at. Bob (Michael Pena) appears to be the brains of the operation, a man as likely to start discussing philosophy in the course of his duties, as he is to read the Miranda rights. Terry (Alexander Skarsgard) is a hulking boy child who idolises Bob and doesn’t have much in his life, other than an addiction to the songs of Glenn Campbell and a complete belief in his partner’s genius. When the two men are sent to investigate a stabbing, they start to uncover a high-level crime syndicate, headed up by the suave and cultured Lord James Mangan (Theo James, channelling a young Rupert Everett). Much blood, gunfire and reckless driving ensues…

This is a film that will inevitably divide audiences. It’s true that there are inspired moments here – a scene where the two cops stand over a stabbed man, while his wife sobs helplessly in the background, yet somehow can’t stop themselves from eating burgers is brilliant; likewise the scene where Terry waltzes new girlfriend, Jackie (Tessa Thompson) around his empty flat to the strains of Rhinestone Cowboy is an unexpected joy amidst all the senseless violence and destruction – but for every scene that impresses, there’s also an artless collection of ‘jokes’ about Islam, gays, blacks and women, that are so stunningly inappropriate that it beggars belief – it’s as though McDonagh is trying so hard to be ‘cool’ that he’s lost all sense of quality control and, overall, the film suffers for his woeful lack of insight.

This is a shame because there are enough excellent moments here to convince you that the film could have been superb, if only McDonagh had managed to rein in some of its baser elements. As it stands, this can only be described as a great big missed opportunity.

3 stars

Philip Caveney

Free State of Jones

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08/10/16

Free State of Jones tells the almost unbelievable true story of the lengths the Confederates went to in order to protect their interest during the American Civil War.

Confederate army nurse Newton Knight (Matthew McConaughey) realises he is a pawn in a rich man’s game and, after his nephew (Jacob Lofland) is killed in battle, he deserts. “It’s not my fight,” he says, noting that he has more in common with the black slaves than he does with the white elite. And so, he bands together a group of runaway slaves, fellow deserters and poor white women and, from their base deep in the swamps, leads a rebellion against the plantation owners, asserting their right to reap the crops they sow and live their lives as free humans, eventually establishing Jones County as a free state and seceding from the Confederacy.

It’s an undeniably important story, highlighting the the vile racism at the heart of American history, and showing how this echoes through the ages with sequences that flash-forward eighty-five years, where Knight’s descendent, Davis (Brian Lee Franklin), is put on trial and eventually jailed for failing to disclose, when marrying, that his great-great-great-grandmother – Newt Knight’s second wife, Rachel (Gugu Mbatha-Raw) – was black.

There’s plenty to admire in this film: it’s a story that needs telling; we need reminding that the Black Lives Matter movement has deep roots, and that racism is firmly embedded in American society. The rich still work hard to protect their own interests, turning the poor against each other to deflect attention from their own excess. And it’s beautifully acted, creating a clear sense of the times; it’s unflinching in its portrayal of the brutality of war and the harsh conditions endured by all.

A shame then that the narrative lacks pace. There’s no clear story arc, no real climactic moment, no drive propelling us to the end. It’s almost dull at times: a series of ponderous moments that don’t quite engage, that keep us at arm’s length. Terrible things happen but I’m never emotionally involved; my reactions are all intellectual.

It’s a good movie and worth seeing, but it’s hard to escape the notion that it could easily have been so much more.

3.9 stars

Susan Singfield

Chitty Chitty Bang Bang

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06/10/16

Festival Theatre, Edinburgh

The crowds of eager-faced youngsters milling happily around the foyer of the Festival theatre say it all – there’s a bona fide family show in town and everyone’s up for some good old-fashioned feelgood entertainment. Ian Fleming’s Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, first published as a novel in 1964 and made into a Disney movie in 1968,  made it to the stage in 2002 and it’s been thrilling audiences pretty much ever since.

Caractacus Potts (Jason Manford), a would-be inventor and recent widower, desperately needs to make thirty shillings in order to save an old racing car from the scrap-merchants. His two young children, Jeremy and Jemima (played on the night we attended by Hayden Goldberg and Caitlin Surtees) love the car too – particularly when their father has managed to buy it and has applied his unusual skills to customising it. Pretty soon the Potts family have a car that can do all kinds of amazing things… and then along comes Truly Scrumptious (Charlotte Wakefield), and a romance is soon in the air…

Of course, if your play is named after the car rather than a human character, you’re going to expect it to be pretty special and sure enough, the ingenious staging of this production really does convince you that the titular vehicle can race down roads, speed across water and even take to the skies. But perhaps the real revelation here is Manford, who has managed to make the difficult transformation from Northern stand up to an all-singing, all-dancing trooper. The boy really can hit those notes. And there’s no getting around the powerful spell woven by the wonderfully sinister Child Catcher (Jos Vantyler) who seems to have wandered in from a small child’s nightmares.

Okay, so not everything in the henhouse is perfect. The spectre of the scary foreigner, which hangs over the production in the shape of the Vulgarians, headed up by Baron and Baroness Bomburst (Phill Jupitus and Claire Sweeney), might make more enlightened hackles rise, but CCBB is very much a product of the era in which it was conceived – and perhaps it’s no great surprise from the creator of James Bond, a man who spent his early years working for Naval Intelligence. Nevertheless, there’s much here to enjoy.

What CCBB has in spades, of course, is those memorable songs – you’ll almost certainly exit the building humming the Sherman Brothers’ incredibly catchy theme song – I know we did. This is a classy production, slickly staged and perfectly tailored for a family audience. Be sure to take your kids to see it. They’ll believe a car can fly.

4.6 stars

Philip Caveney

 

 

 

Gangsta Granny
Birmingham Stage Company presents Gangsta Granny by David Walliams. CAST Gilly Tompkins – Granny Ashley Cousins – Ben Laura Girling – Mum Ben Martin – Dad Umar Malik – Raj Alison Fitzjohn – Matron Richard James – Doctor Louise Bailey – Queen & Female Undestudy Aaron Thiara – Male Understudy CREATIVE TEAM Adapter and Director – Neal Foster Designer – Jackie Trousdale Lighting Designer – Jason Taylor Composer – Jak Poore Sound Designer – Nick Sagar Choreographers – Paul Chantry & Rae Piper of Chantry Dance Company Production Manager – Adrian Littlejohns

05/10/16

King’s Theatre, Edinburgh

The Birmingham Stage Company’s children’s shows are well-known throughout the UK (as well as further afield), and this touring adaptation of David Walliams’ best-seller lets us see why they are so popular. This is theatre with its target audience firmly in its sights, every detail carefully judged to ensure it hits its mark.

It tells the tale of Ben (Ashley Cousins), whose ballroom-obsessed parents (played tonight by Benedict Martin and understudy Louise Bailey) force him to spend every Friday night with his boring Granny (Gilly Tompkins). But, as Ben soon discovers, there’s more to Granny than cabbage soup: her secret alter-ego is an infamous jewel thief – and anything but dull. It’s a charming story with a simple message: don’t underestimate people just because they’re old. “I wasn’t born a little old lady,” as Granny says to Ben.

The production is big and bold, the supporting characters a series of Roald Dahl-style grotesques. The children in the audience love these comic exaggerations: Mr Parker, the nosy neighbour (Benedict Martin again), seems a particular favourite, eliciting squeals of delighted laughter with his heightened mannerisms.

There are some stand-out moments and ideas. The mobility scooter is used to good comic effect, and the unflinching approach to mortality is very refreshing in a production of this ilk. The characters are all well-drawn and clearly delineated throughout. I love the way that sound effects are employed, not just in the inevitable (and very funny) fart jokes, but also to facilitate our acceptance that there is, for example, a car on stage. It’s a neat, efficient means of conveying ideas, and the performers physicalise it well.

In fact, if there’s a criticism, it’s that there could be more of this. The set seems overly complex, with too many distracting scene changes that often seem unnecessary. A simpler, more pared-down approach would mean less stage traffic and less ‘busy-ness’ (the constant setting up/taking down of the kitchen table and chairs seems particularly pointless), and would make the story’s through-line clearer and more direct.

All in all, though, this is a lot of fun, and a huge success with its intended audience. The children near us were shiny-eyed and excited as they left the theatre, and that’s surely what this is all about.

4 stars

Susan Singfield

The Suppliant Women

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Royal Lyceum, Edinburgh

05/10/16

It’s a rare thing indeed when you go into a theatre and are treated to something unique – but that is the word that kept coming to me, as I sat entranced in the stalls of The Lyceum, watching David Greig’s production of The Suppliant Women. Written by Aeschylus two thousand, five hundred years ago, this wasn’t the usual contemporary adaptation of classic Greek theatre, but an attempt (costumes aside) to present it pretty much as it must have been performed in its original incarnation, complete with libations of wine and milk, choral odes and synchronised movement.

Add to this the fact that the cast of more than fifty performers is composed mostly of amateurs and you might have some notion of what an ambitious production this is, but you certainly won’t be prepared for the skill and grace with which the performers deliver their roles. Here’s a chorus, speaking as one, where you can hear every single word – a chorus that moves around the crowded stage with uncanny precision. They have only been rehearsing this since early September, yet their dedication shows at every turn.

The story may be thousands of years old and yet it’s remarkably prescient for our troubled times. The women of the title have fled their native Egypt where they are being forced to marry their cousins and, accompanied by their father, Danaaus (Omar Ebrahim), they arrive in Argos, seeking asylum. They take shelter in the temple of Zeus where they are met by The King (Oscar Batterham) who feels conflicted about their presence – to turn them away will offend Zeus, but the King is also aware that the local populace may take against these women, who are after all, migrants – and what if their presence here should cause a war between Argos and Egypt?

Skilfully directed by Ramin Grey, with musical accompaniment of percussion and Aulos (a traditional double-reeded instrument), this is a feast for the senses. The performance area is a bare breeze block paved space, that utilises the whole depth of the Lyceum’s curtainless stage, but there’s wonderfully atmospheric lighting (a scene set in near darkness where every woman carries a lantern is particularly effective) and plaudits must go to chorus leader, Gemma May, who manages to deliver all of her potentially tongue-twisting lines with absolute authority. If the idea of watching traditional Greek drama leaves you cold, don’t be misled – this is a riveting slice of theatre that deserves a wide audience.

Go, enjoy. There may not be a show like this one for another two thousand, five hundred years.

4.8 stars

Philip Caveney

Amanda Knox

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03/10/16

Amanda Knox is a household name, known around the world as a convicted murderer, a promiscuous young woman who killed her flatmate, Meredith Kercher, as part of a twisted sex game. No matter that her conviction has been overturned; no matter that the stories about her are founded on nothing more than prejudice and conjecture: her infamy precedes her, and those who’ve swallowed the tabloid tales remain convinced of her guilt.

This Netflix documentary doesn’t ask whether she’s guilty; her innocence is assumed as a given, and – once we hear the self-satisfied testimonies of Giuliano Mignini, the chief prosecutor, and Nick Pisa, a tabloid journalist – it’s easy to see why. By his own admission, Mignini finds Knox’s behaviour inappropriate: he doesn’t like the fact that she is seen kissing her boyfriend just hours after learning of her flatmate’s death, and paints her as the ‘whore’ to Kercher’s ‘Madonna'(“Maybe,” he hypothesises, “Meredith didn’t like coming home to find men in in her house…”). There’s literally no evidence to support Knox’s conviction, except for a soon-retracted confession, extracted after several gruelling hours of being interviewed/harangued and slapped around the head. Mignini is just a misogynist, reading a young woman’s sexuality as a sign of evil.

Nick Pisa doesn’t fare any better: he relishes the salacious details Mignini feeds to the press, laughing and crowing at the scoop, openly revelling in the fact that there’s blood, murder, young women, sex. Juxtaposed with footage of the crime scene, and interviews with Kercher’s family, the sheer heartlessness of this is hard to watch. And the tabloid’s gleeful exploitation of poor Kercher’s death means that Knox’s life is also destroyed: a young woman, wrongly accused of a dreadful crime, her diary exposed to the world, her (frankly unremarkable) sex life made public and used to shame her… for what?

Her boyfriend, Raffaele Sollecito, was always portrayed as her dupe, a nice young man being manipulated by a Jezebel. What emerges here is a different view: he is indeed a nice young man – and as innocent as his girlfriend of this revolting crime.

Okay, so this isn’t as detailed an exposé as Serial or Making a Murderer – it would be interesting to learn more about how the judicial system got it so wrong – but it’s a compelling documentary nonetheless, and at least gives Knox an opportunity to set her critics straight.

4 stars

Susan Singfield

 

Deepwater Horizon

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03/10/16

The name is synonymous with one of the worst industrial accidents of all time. In April 2010, the titular drilling rig suffered a catastrophic explosion that spilled millions of tonnes of crude oil into the Gulf of Mexico, causing untold damage to the eco-system. The environmental impact was unprecedented – but Peter Berg’s film is much more concerned with the human story behind the disaster. One hundred and twenty six crew members worked aboard the Deepwater Horizon and, sadly, not all of them lived to tell the story.

The events are seen largely from the POV of engineer Mike Williams (Mark Wahlberg). We first join him at his home, shortly before he leaves for an eventful three-week shift on the drilling platform and we catch his interplay with his wife, Felicia (Kate Hudson) and his young daughter, Sydney (Stella Allen). Barely ten minutes in, we care about him. And then we’re aboard the rig, watching as he goes about his daily routine, exchanging pleasantries with the other crew members and noting the concerns of safety officer, Jimmy Harrell (Kurt Russell), who feels that safety checks are being ignored because the drilling is forty three days behind schedule, something that’s encouraged by BP executive, Vidrine (John Malkovich, playing a character almost as oily as the stuff the crew are drilling for). Of course, history tells us that something went badly wrong and the suspense racks steadily up to the moment when it actually does.

From here on, we’re in disaster movie territory, as all hell breaks loose. It’s a horribly immersive experience and there’s barely time to draw breath as the crew run desperately around the rig, trying to stay alive. Strangely, it’s only after the blitzkrieg of special effects is over that the emotions are hit – there’s a key scene here that had me filling up and it will be a stony individual indeed, who doesn’t feel similarly compelled.

Ultimately, Deepwater Horizon is a tale of heroism – both Williams and Harrell went far beyond what might have been expected of people in such circumstances. It also makes for a thrilling cinematic experience. As the credits roll, we see the real people behind the story, who – surprise, surprise – are nothing like as photogenic as the actors who portray them, but it drives home the fact that this is a true story, where once again corporate greed puts profits above human lives.

4.4 stars

Philip Caveney

Miss Peregrine’s Home for Peculiar Children

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01/10/16

Based on the popular novel by Ransom Riggs, Miss Peregrine’s Home For Peculiar Children is a Tim Burton film, that doesn’t feature his usual cohort of friends/family and is largely set in North Wales. Jake (Asa Butterfield) is unusually close to his secretive Grandfather, Abe (a scenery-chewing Terence Stamp) who often regales him with stories about a children’s home he spent time in during the Second World War.

When Abe is (rather horrifically) murdered by an odd looking monster (one that appears to have stepped out of a Guillermo Del Toro film), Jake accompanies his hapless father, Franklin (Chris O Dowd) to the remote Welsh island where the home was located and which is now no more than a burned out ruin. Jake has a vague notion of finding some answers about his Grandpa’s death, but almost before you can say ‘time travel’ Jake has somehow found his way back to the 1940s, where the home functions in a weird time-loop, presided over by the titular Miss Peregrine (a remarkable turn from Eva Green) who amongst her many talents has the ability to transform herself into a bird of prey. The children at the home all have odd powers of their own which range from invisibility to internal bee-keeping and the possession of a second mouth at the back of the neck. (Always handy). But the home is under threat from the evil creatures that control the monsters. They are led by Barron (Samuel L Jackson) a vile looking shape-shifter with a predilection for eating human eyeballs…

Like most Burton movies, this is often very nice to look at (he started off as an illustrator and that always shows) but there’s something curiously unengaging about the film, which is packed full of over-complicated incident, yet rarely manages to exert any kind of grip on the attention. It seems to go on for an inordinately long time, before it finally reaches a climax in an exotic location (Blackpool) where screenwriter Jane Goldman has to find something useful for every one of those peculiar kids to do. Despite all the monsters rampaging across the screen, there’s no real sense of threat here and it isn’t very enlightened to have the one black actor in the film cast as a child-murdering villain.

There are admittedly a few nice moments dotted about (a spirited tribute to the ‘fighting skeletons’ sequence from Ray Harryhausen’s Jason and the Argonauts being one of them) but ultimately this isn’t Burton’s finest moment. For a film that’s so packed with fantasy elements, MPHFPC is long on exposition and woefully short of magic.

2.9 stars

Philip Caveney

 

Grassmarket Paella Stall

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Grassmarket, Edinburgh

01/10/16

Question: Where can you eat delicious food in Edinburgh city centre for less than a fiver?

Answer: The Grassmarket, every Saturday lunchtime.

To be fair, there’s more than just paella on offer here – there are stalls serving South East Asian cuisine, burgers, pakoras, pizzas, you name it – but paella is what we’re in the mood for this sunny October lunchtime and I’ve been promising myself for ages that we are going to check out this stall, which doesn’t even appear to have a name. A simple sign announces ‘Lovely paella.’ When we arrive, there are two gigantic round pans of the stuff on the go, bubbling invitingly and giving off an aroma that sets my stomach a gurgling, but we’ve mistimed our visit. The chef tells us that the current pan still needs another ten or fifteen minutes before it’s perfect and he isn’t going to serve it until its just right.

Luckily, we have vegetable shopping to do, so we troop off to another stall and sort that out, before heading back, our appetites that bit keener. An eager queue is already forming but the chef remembers us, and waves us to the front. He duly heaps out two piping hot portions into foil trays. This isn’t exactly fancy dining, mind you. We get a plastic fork and a paper serviette apiece and that’s our lot – but it’s a lovely day, so we take a seat on the nearby gibbet (seriously) and dig in.

This is a very decent paella, the rice perfectly judged so it still has a tiny amount of ‘bite’ left in it. There are chunks of succulent chicken, flageolet beans, red peppers, green beans and that delicious combination of spices and chopped garlic that makes every mouthful a thing of wonder. One generously heaped portion of paella costs four pounds, fifty, which is excellent value for money. Transfer this to a china bowl, throw in some cutlery, three flunkies and a wine list and you’d be more than happy to pay £15 for something like this, any day of the week.

When we wander back in that direction, fifteen minutes later, I can’t help but notice that the first big pan has been consumed and people are already looking hopefully at its successor. If you’re in Edinburgh city on a Saturday lunchtime and you fancy a bit of Spanish, you could do a lot worse than this.

4 stars

Philip Caveney