Author: Bouquets & Brickbats

A Girl Walks Home Alone At Night

26/05/15

Despite the rather ponderous title, there’s much to recommend about this low budget indie from Iranian director Ana Lily Amirpour, not least the stark black and white cinematography and the assured performances by a cast of unknowns. While the industrial settings and bursts of white noise occasionally echo early David Lynch (with Eraserhead an obvious touchstone) and some of the soundtrack tropes are clearly influenced by Ennio Morricone, there’s nonetheless a lot here that’s like nothing else you’ve ever seen on a cinema screen.

The story is set in ‘Bad City,’ an industrialised hellhole where the sight of a ravine filled with heaps of dead bodies doesn’t seem to cause any of the inhabitants to raise so much as an eyebrow. Arrash (Arash Marandi) is a handsome young man, saddled with the upkeep of his junkie father, Hossein, who is in hock to vicious drug dealer, Saeed. When Hossein can’t pay what he owes, Saeed does not hesitate to take Arrash’s much-prized car as a part-payment. Into this bleak scenario wanders ‘The Girl,’ (Sheila Vand) a hijab-wearing, night walking (and occasionally skate-boarding) vampire, who seems to choose her victims according to a strange, self-determined code, homing in on those who she deems to be wicked. It’s an intriguing performance from Vand, as beguiling and compelling, as it is, occasionally, terrifying. She first meets Arash when he is stoned, returning from a fancy dress party dressed as Dracula. She promptly wheels him back to her place and a quirky romance ensues…

A Girl Walks Home Alone At Night is a fascinating film, pretty much the last sort of movie you might expect to emerge from Iran. Even though the sexual overtones of the story are portrayed in an allegorical way, they are undoubtedly there, along with unflinching scenes of drug-taking and some interesting role reversal – here the girl on her own is the one you need to be afraid of. It’s an assured debut from Armipour, who manages to create something really original here, proving once again, that the supposed demise of the vampire movie has been somewhat exaggerated. This is another fresh twist on the genre, that will have you discussing the film long after you’ve left the cinema.

4.4 stars

Philip Caveney

The King’s Speech

King’s Theatre, Edinburgh

23/05/15

The King’s Theatre, Edinburgh, has a reputation for being beautiful. “If you like the Lyceum,” several friends have told us, “just wait until you see the King’s.” And, to be fair, the building is gorgeous: all perfectly preserved Art Deco woodwork, and a frankly overgenerous serving of boxes, with a staggering eighteen ornate (and empty) loges dominating the auditorium. So, yes, the theatre is lovely to look at.

Unfortunately, I didn’t love the play. The story was too familiar from the over-praised film (I enjoyed the film, I really did, but it felt more like a decent TV drama than the Oscar-winning heavyweight it was lauded as), and the subject too unsympathetic. It’s hard to empathise too much with such a vastly over-privileged man.

The performances were good: Jason Donovan made an appealingly irreverent Lionel; Claire Lams a wonderfully acerbic Queen. But the dialogue was plodding, and the direction lacked the lightness of touch that elevated the film. Set changes, for example, were more complex than necessary, interrupting the flow and slowing the pace. The simplicity of the wooden wall panels was negated by the constant shifting of superfluous props: the location was clear as soon as a door slid open; I didn’t need three desks, a bookshelf and a couple of armchairs to tell me where we were.

I liked the way the political machinations were writ large in this play, and how Lionel Logue’s refreshing lack of agenda was shown to contrast so heavily with the naked, ugly self-interest of the clergy, the government and the royal family itself. But, overall, this was not for me.

2.3 stars

Susan Singfield

Soba, Edinburgh

24/06/15

We generally avoid reviewing chain restaurants but with venues only in Edinburgh, Glasgow and (recently opened) Leeds, Soba seemed suitably niche enough to make an exception. Describing its offerings as ‘Pan Asian Street-Food,’ this self-styled bar/kitchen occupies a slot on Hanover Street and offers a funky, lively place to dine, with tables arranged on several levels. The interior decorator seems to have a predilection for different kinds of light fittings and manga style art, but the overall effect is much more pleasing than I’m making it sound.

For starters we chose Sweetcorn and Coconut Fritters, which were every bit as light and delicately spiced as the name would lead you to expect: and Char Siu Steamed Pork Buns with Ginger Plums. These were deliciously soft and sticky and when you got over the initial surprise of them being so gloopy, were really rather enjoyable. The ginger plums lent the dish a contrasting piquancy.

The main courses were two familiar favourites. As somebody who spent several years of my childhood in Malaysia, I couldn’t resist the Nasi Goreng, a deliciously spicy mixture of rice, chicken and shrimps, served with chicken skewers, a thick, lip-smackingly good peanut sauce and shrimp crackers. The whole thing is topped off with a soft fried egg. (In my childhood, Nasi Goreng was our equivalent of fish and chips. A man used to cycle around with a heated box of the stuff, which would be served wrapped in a banana leaf. Obviously, in that version the egg was of the scrambled variety but we loved it! Soba’s version was much more stylish but had an authentic taste that took me right back to those happy days.) Susan sampled the Pad Thai, a generously sized bowl of rice noodles and prawns, intensely flavoured with lime, ginger and tamarind. Again, it was everything that a Pad Thai should be – a delightful commingling of ingredients, topped with crunchy bean sprouts.

As I said earlier, portions are on the generous side, so we eschewed the dessert menu this time around. Neither was it the right opportunity to sample any of Soba’s cocktails, of which they are clearly very proud. I should perhaps mention that they are now offering an express lunch with two courses for just £8.95 (which is a bargain any way you look at it) and regular diners might like to consider investing in a trade card, which costs just £25 and offers 25% off main courses, cocktails for just £5 and ‘house pours’ – four of the most popular spirit and mixer combinations – for just £2.

Our meal for two with a couple of drinks came to just over £30. We’ll most certainly be eating there again.

4.2 stars

Philip Caveney

The Ghost Train

Royal Exchange Theatre, Manchester

19/05/15

The Royal Exchange are billing The Ghost Train as a comedy thriller, and there are certainly elements of both within Dad’s Army favourite Arnold Ridley’s 1920s play. It’s a lively production, performed with zeal by the ever-peppy Told By an Idiot, and there’s plenty to commend.

The premise is simple: six passengers are stranded at an isolated railway station, purportedly haunted by a ghost train. The play follows the development of their relationships, and unravels the mystery of the phantom. It’s hardly challenging stuff, but then, it isn’t meant to be, or at least not in this incarnation. Here, it’s clearly supposed to be fun – a riotous, silly, galumphing escapade – and it certainly had the audience laughing throughout.

There were a lot of clever moments: I love a bit of overt theatricality, so I was tickled by the narration-and-sound-effects idea at the start of the play (although I did feel it went on too long), and impressed by some of the set pieces, such as the initial (interrupted) train journey, and the prolonged parrot-chase. The cast revelled in the performance, and their enthusiasm was – at times – infectious.

However, despite (or because of) all the playfulness and witty ideas, the play just didn’t hang together. It was uneven and incoherent at times, with techniques shoehorned in as if it were an A level piece (where students need to demonstrate everything they know, all at once, even if it doesn’t really fit).

And, while some ideas were stretched to their limits – the ludicrous woman-in-a-parrot-suit, for example – other, more promising notions just weren’t taken far enough (the clowning was half-hearted; the drag act criminally understated), which was a real shame.

In all honesty, this play just didn’t work for me or my companions, but this certainly wasn’t a universal view. The house was raucous with laughter, and the applause was enthusiastic. Why not see it and decide for yourself? You certainly won’t be bored.

2.4 stars

Susan Singfield

Mad Max: Fury Road

17/05/15

I have to declare from the start that this has been my most eagerly anticipated film of the year. I’ve been a devoted fan of the Mad Max franchise, from its humble B movie origins in 1979, through the awesome action tropes of The Road Warrior in 1981, and on to the inventive storytelling of Beyond Thunderdome in 1985. Through the intervening 35 years… can it really have been that long?… I, like many others have been keeping alive the hope that director George Miller would stop concentrating his talents on anodyne nonsense like Babe and Happy Feet and revisit his glorious, testosterone-fuelled past. And by jove, he’s finally done it – although this time out, he’s added a welcome dash of oestrogen too!

It’s a tough act to follow and a tough act for newbie Max, Tom Hardy, to step into Mel Gibson’s boots – so I’m delighted to report that this is a triumphant return to form and that Fury Road not only equals those earlier efforts but in many ways surpasses them. It’s a blitzkrieg of stunning vehicular chases, amazing stunt work and unforgettable dystopian visions, but it’s also backed up by a compelling central story. As ever in Miller-land, dialogue is kept to a minimum (Hardy doesn’t get to utter so much as a word for the first twenty minutes or so) but there’s so much going on up on the screen, you barely notice.

In a nightmarish, desert landscape, evil dictator Imortan Joe (Hugh Keays-Byrne) has founded an empire built on toil and the exploitation of the weak. (Max fans will remember Keays-Byrne as ‘Toecutter’ in the very first movie.) When one of Joe’s war parties brings in a bearded, half-conscious Max, the captive is summarily shaved, tattooed and branded, and is then assigned to ailing suicide-warrior, Nux (a barely recognisable Nicholas Hoult) as a living blood transfusion unit. However, when one of Joe’s most trusted lieutenants, Imperator Furiosa (Charlize Theron) decides to abscond with Joe’s five young wives (or his breeding stock, as he so delicately refers to them) Nux is one of the team despatched to bring them back and Max duly finds himself strapped to the front of a truck and hurled headlong into a terrifying chase. We’re taken along for the ride.

And what an unforgettable ride it is! The film leaps effortlessly from one frantic chase to the next, as Miller’s welded-together juggernauts collide, accelerate, swerve and explode in jaw-dropping style. There’s barely a sign of CGI to be seen, everything’s done pretty much for real and it’s little wonder that the closing credits feature what looks like hundreds of stunt performers. But it’s more than just action. Miller’s futuristic world is fully thought-through and dazzlingly captured amidst the stunning Namibian landscapes (this is the first of the series not actually shot in Australia) and there’s so much here to delight and surprise the viewers. Key among them are the manic lead guitarist chained to the front of a truck and pumping out death metal and fire in equal amounts; Joe’s breast-milk pumping parlour, where pregnant women are er… pressed into service; and the tribe of aged motorbiking female warriors who turn up to prove that when it comes to a fight, they’re more than a match for the younger men.

I loved this to pieces. The Mad Max films, though, are cinematic Marmite. If you don’t like what Miller does, this is going to feel like putting your head in a tumble drier and pressing the on switch. If however you like action cinema at its most inventive, this one is for you. One thing. The film was actually shot in 2D and for the 3D version, the process has been retroactively applied, which never makes for a good transfer; but trust me. You won’t need 3D for this. It’s eye-popping enough without.

5 stars

Philip Caveney

03/06/15

Ahem! Time to eat a few slices of humble pie. After my suggestion that there was no need to see Mad Max; Fury Road in 3D as it hadn’t actually been shot that way, a couple of friends contacted me to say they’d seen it in 3D and it looked pretty damned good to them. So I broke the habit of a lifetime and went back to the cinema to check out their claims. I have to admit that my friends were absolutely spot on. Not only does this movie bear repeated viewing (it really is that good) it also looks eye-poppingly brilliant in 3D and effortlessly leaps into the ranks of my favourite films in that format – Gravity, Hugo, Avatar and er… Piranha 3D. In fact, if i see a better film this year than MMFR, I’ll be very surprised.

Far From The Madding Crowd

11/05/15

Thomas Vinterberg is a brave man – brave enough to take on Far From The Madding Crowd, in the certain knowledge that it is going to be compared to John Schlesinger’s 1967 masterpiece and inevitably found wanting. But perhaps I’m being unfair. Julie Christie, Alan Bates, Terence Stamp – these are all names that belong to another era and will mean very little to young cinema fans – and there’s no doubt that Carey Mulligan’s take on the tempestuous Bathsheba Everdean is as accomplished as you could reasonably want, even if some of her costumes – (the leather riding jerkin in particular,) don’t quite convince as being of the period.

Thomas ‘Chuckles’ Hardy is of course, a writer who excels in miserable stories and few come glummer than this tale of thwarted love and desire. Bathsheba is an orphan, who works as a farm labourer. The neighbouring farm is owned by handsome but taciturn shepherd, Gabriel Oak (Matthias Schoonaerts.) Gabriel takes a shine to Bathsheba and asks her to marry him, but she’s not quite ready to settle down yet and declines his offer. Shortly afterwards, as it is wont to do in Hardy novels, disaster strikes, robbing Gabriel of his livelihood and obliging him to move away. Bathsheba does rather better for herself, inheriting a farm when her Uncle dies unexpectedly. By a twist of fate, (or massive coincidence, whichever you prefer) she finds herself as Gabriel’s employer and is subsequently lusted after, both by her rich neighbour, Mr Boldwood (Michael Sheen) and by a rakish soldier, Sergeant Troy (Tom Sturridge.) Gabriel remains in the background, her ever watchful guardian angel. But which man will she end up with? And how many gallons of tears will be shed along the way?

Vinterberg, who came up through the Danish Festen cinema movement, makes a pretty good fist of this quintessentially English tale. The rolling landscape of Dorset is handsomely portrayed, the performances are all pretty much spot on (Sheen is in particularly good form as the tragic, obsessive Boldwood) and though the Sergeant Troy ‘reveal’ is handled far better in the Schlesinger version, it’s hard to fault such a meticulously rendered production. Hardy fans will perhaps feel that this version is more about Gabriel’s story than Bathsheba’s, but that seems to me a minor quibble. This is superior filmmaking and the results are well worth catching.

4.2 stars

Philip Caveney

Malt Cross, Nottingham

10/05/15

The Malt Cross must qualify as Nottingham’s most extraordinary dining venue. Built as a music hall in 1877 by one Charles Weldon, entertainer, it’s charming hanging stage has played host to the like of Dame Nellie Melba, Stan Laurel and even Charlie Chaplin. It’s one of just four existing music halls in the UK and the only one that still offers live entertainment. Thanks to a £1.3 million lottery grant, it’s been lovingly refurbished, retaining as many of the original features as possible and as well as exuding tons of atmosphere, the place is a regular hive of creativity, offering theatrical events, concerts, clubs, societies and even studio space in which to film videos. Even more remarkably, it’s built over the site of a monastery that was founded in the 1200’s and down in the sub basement, there’s a network of eerie-looking caves.

As if all this wasn’t enough, it’s also a dining venue. We were there for Sunday lunch and though there was a decent al a carte menu, which includes the ubiquitous roast dinner, there was also something I haven’t seen elsewhere. On the table is a pad full of order forms. As you can see from the illustration, there are just three smoked meats to choose from – Beef Brisket, Pulled Pork or Pulled Chicken – and two vegetarian options – Portobello Mushroom with melted halloumi or a ‘Beet Burger’. Each option costs just £6 and you can wrap it in your choice of three breads or go for a healthy salad on the side.

However, once you have chosen your basic ingredients, you can then customise your meal to your heart’s content by ticking up to thirteen ‘toppings’ at no extra cost. For a pound or so more, you can also choose from six side dishes. You then hand in your orders and sit back with a well-earned drink.

I tried the beef brisket and Susan opted for the pulled chicken. Both arrived promptly, displayed on unpretentious enamel plates and both meals were hearty and delicious. (A tiny niggle – my potato wedges with rosemary salt were delicious but could have done with being a little bit hotter. No big deal.) The portions were generous enough to deter us from looking at the dessert menu, but I can report that in the bar area, there’s a whole election of freshly baked cakes on offer, the profits from which go to a local charity.

So, next time you’re in Nottingham, head down to James Street for a great value lunch in one of the most amazing settings you will ever witness. I guarantee it will be a unique dining experience.

4 stars

Philip Caveney

Unfriended

08/05/15

There have already been a few unsuccessful attempts to marry the fright movie to the world of social media – Chatroom (2010) springs to mind, or last year’s low budget offering, Open Window – but Unfriended is the first film to really understand how the medium actually works and to exploit it to maximum effect. The film’s events are completely confined to the screen of a computer and the interconnected Skype calls of five young friends who find themselves being trolled by a sixth, initially unidentified caller. Whoever it is seems intent on carrying out an ever more vicious revenge for something the others have all been involved in. Could the trolling have anything to do with the first anniversary of the suicide of Laura Barns (Heather Sossaman) a young woman who killed herself after a humiliating film of her drunken indiscretions was publicly aired on Facebook? It’s in no way a spoiler to say, yes, it could, big time.

Considering the restrictions of the staging, Unfriended manages to generate almost unbearable levels of tension, often in the most unexpected ways – the time, for instance, it takes for an emailed link to download, or the way in which characters, composing text messages, repeatedly edit themselves before pressing send. The young cast of unknowns do a pretty good job of convincing us that they are genuinely terrified. As events move from the explicable to the paranormal, there’s plenty of stylish chills to enjoy, despite the film’s 15 certificate. Some of the (admittedly fleeting) gore effects surely challenge that categorisation, but maybe I’m being picky. The film certainly isn’t for everyone. There were a few mid-movie walkouts at the screening I attended and a row of kids sitting behind us, seemed to think it was fine to chatter all the way through it, just as they would if they were on social media themselves. Maybe they don’t get out much.

Unfriended is a valuable addition to the horror genre, much more satisfying that the majority of found-footage, shaky cam offerings that have arrived, seemingly relentlessly, in the wake of the seminal Blair Witch Project. But be warned. This film could put the more nervous viewer off using social media for life.

4.2 stars

Philip Caveney

The Falling

03/05/15

Carol Morley’s The Falling is an intriguing and occasionally mesmerising film, that has somehow managed to stake a claim at the multiplexes, amidst the tub-thumping superhero and action flicks. You’ll have to go back a long way to find something similar; all the way, in fact, to 1975, and Peter Weir’s Picnic At Hanging Rock, with which this film seems to share an affinity for the languorous, sensual qualities of nature. Weir’s story was, of course, based in Australia and this one, somewhere in the UK (it’s never actually specified exactly where) but Morley is fond of counterpointing luscious shots of lakes and woods with the tightly corseted, emotionless wasteland of a girls’ private school. Indeed, the two films have so many scenes in common, I refuse to believe that it’s coincidental.

It’s 1969 and the wild and rebellious Abbie (Florence Pugh) is beginning to discover the depths of her own sexuality. Her best friend, Lydia (Maisie Williams) can only watch helplessly as Abbie is inexorably drawn away from her towards Lydia’s brother, Kenneth (Joe Cole). Lydia lives with Kenneth and her tightly buttoned mother, Eileen (Maxine Peake) an agoraphobe who never leaves the house and who seems incapable of portraying any kind of emotion whatsoever. When Abbie finds she is pregnant, it threatens to blow apart the closeted world of the private school she attends and Lydia starts to look for ways to procure an abortion for her friend – but shortly afterwards, Abbie collapses and dies. The resulting shock has a profound effect on her fellow pupils. Lydia begins to experience rapturous fainting spells and as hysteria mounts, more and more more girls (and even one of the female teachers) experience the same phenomenon. In the film’s most powerful scene, pretty much the whole morning assembly succumbs. Is it simply a case of mass hysteria? Or is something deeper and more sinister at work?

The film revels in throwing out more questions than it has answers for. Morley’s slow, sensual direction generates an atmosphere of incredible tension and there are occasional uses of subliminal imagery that lend the film an almost hallucinatory quality. As Lydia, Williams delivers an unforgettable performance, while Pugh is so charismatic that her memory haunts the proceedings despite her early exit. Interesting too, to see former Merchant Ivory pin-up Greta Scaachi, taking on the role of the school’s sternest teacher.

The Falling is by no means a perfect film, but it’s far more experimental than most movies you’ll see these days and it has an ephemeral quality that will prompt you to talk about it long after the final credits have rolled. Not something you would say about Iron Man or The Avengers.

4.4 stars

Philip Caveney

Whose Lunch is it Anyway? Stu and Garry’s Free Improv Show

The Stand, Edinburgh

03/05/15

Stu Murphy and Garry Dobson’s residency at The Stand is an inspired way for the comedy club to draw in the punters during that entertainment dearth otherwise known as ‘Sunday lunchtime.’ We’ve seen the pair before (a twenty-minute slot during a night of stand-up), but this is the first time we’ve managed to catch their full-length act, and it really didn’t disappoint.

For starters, it’s free. I suppose it would need to be; this improbable time slot depends on people taking a punt, and thinking, ‘Well, why not?’ The place was bursting (although, as the eponymous duo pointed out, it was raining, and it was a bank holiday weekend). Perhaps the numbers aren’t always so good. We didn’t eat, but plenty around us did. This seems to be a popular gig for the hungry and hungover.

As for the act, it’s just a series of well-trodden improvisation games, but they’re played so well and with such joy and mischief, that it’s a real delight to be there. The comedians are inventive, clever, witty and warm. I can’t think of a better way to round off a weekend.

Oh – and Philip even got to go onstage, after volunteering to be the ‘puppeteer,’ controlling Stu’s every move during one (hilarious) scene. Now there’s funny for you.

4 stars

Susan Singfield