Film

Hustlers

15/09/19

Jennifer Lopez dominates the screen in Hustlers, Lorene Scafaria’s impressive depiction of a real-life stripper-gang, drugging and mugging their so-called ‘victims’. As Ramona, Lopez is mesmerising: a strong, ambitious and generous woman, determined not to fall prey to a system whose odds are stacked against her.

Constance Wu is Dorothy/Destiny, the wide-eyed new girl at Scores. She’s worked in a strip club before, but not in New York City, where competition is fierce (I mean, Cardi B works there; this is not for the faint-hearted). Destiny just wants to make enough money to live an independent life, and to help her gran get out of debt. Teaming up with Ramona seems like a good idea – and it is. Because Ramona is the best: she knows exactly what the customers want, and she’s a kind and supportive friend.

The film plays out as a series of flashbacks, linked by an interview with journalist Elizabeth (played by Julia Stiles and based on Jessica Pressler, whose article about the ‘hustle’ inspired this movie). It might have been interesting to learn more about Elizabeth, but still, it’s thanks to her persistent questioning that Destiny reveals the truth behind the women’s actions. It’s a fascinating watch, supported by a stellar soundtrack.

For once, here is a movie that doesn’t try to have its cake and eat it, to bemoan the exploitation of women while simultaneously objectifying them. Sure, there are lots of semi-naked bodies here, and several explicit pole routines. But we’re never positioned as the strip-club audience, never invited to join the fantasy. We see things as the women see them: as impressive moves, or as ways to earn a crust. It’s a fine line, and it’s well-navigated here.

We’re on the women’s side; of course we are. They just want to earn a living. We see them try ‘proper’ jobs, earning minimum wage, unable to pick their children up from school. As Ramona says, everyone’s hustling. Some people are throwing the money around, and the others are dancing. At least at the strip club the money is good.

But, after the 2008 financial crash, the pickings are slim. The Wall Street players have drifted away from the club; the women are getting older; they can’t be dancers forever (although, seeing fifty-year-old Lopez in action, you’d be forgiven for wondering why the hell not). So Ramona concocts a plan: target a guy, drug him, then take cash from his credit card at the club. When he comes round, he won’t remember everything, and he certainly won’t want to complain to the police, or risk his family finding out where he has been.

Ramona and Destiny recruit two trusted colleagues, Mercedes (Kiki Palmer) and Annabelle (Lili Reinhart), and everything goes well – until they get too greedy, until flaky Dawn (Madeline Brewer) joins the team. By now, tensions are running high, and Destiny’s friendship with Ramona faces its biggest threat.

This is, actually, a wonderful film, as full of heart as it is of rage: an affecting human tale, of women refusing to be cast as victims.

4.7 stars

Susan Singfield

Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark

08/09/19

As the long summer nights begin to stretch into autumn, the time seems perfect for a film like this. Based on Alvin Schwartz’s retellings of classic ‘campfire’ tales, Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark is a playful compendium of sinister settings and nicely-timed jump scares, aimed very directly at a teenage audience. Produced and co-written by Guillermo del Toro and directed by André Øvredal, the film unashamedly pushes its fifteen certificate to the limits and has a kind of galumphing charm that’s hard to resist.

It’s 1969 and Stella (Zoe Margaret Colletti) is a shy, story-obsessed teenager, living with her father, Roy (an underused Dean Norris), after the breakup of her parents’ marriage. With her geeky friends, Augie (Gabriel Rush) and Chuck (Austin Zajur), Stella heads out on Halloween night, intent on trick-or-treating the local bully, Tommy (Austin Abrams), who has made their life a misery all year.

Ensuing events have them hooking up with mysterious young drifter, Ramón (Michael Garza), and the four teens visit a reputedly haunted house, where they discover a mysterious book of handwritten stories. Unfortunately, they soon find that a ghostly hand keeps adding to the collection and that they and their friends are all destined to feature as  protagonists. Unsurprisingly, none of the stories has a happy ending.

If the concept seems a little familiar, the film is nonetheless thoroughly enjoyable. The content doesn’t seem a million miles away from the kind of fiction that a certain Danny Weston writes (which is a good thing, right?), and – even when the budget can’t quite stretch to some more convincing CGI – the overarching story sews the various narrative threads together with skill. Arachnaphobes be warned, there’s one sequence here that’s sure to give you the heebie-jeebies.

There’s a suggestion at the film’s conclusion that there may be a sequel in the offing. Would it seem churlish to hope that this remains a one-off? SSTTITD certainly makes for enjoyable autumnal viewing, but I suspect the trick will soon wear thin, if the filmmakers return to the concept one too many times.

4.2 stars

Philip Caveney

The Farewell
L to R: “Jiang Yongbo, Aoi Mizuhara, Chen Han, Tzi Ma, Awkwafina, Li Xiang, Lu Hong, Zhao Shuzhen.” Courtesy of Big Beach.

06/09/19

The Farewell is mainly about the different ways in which societies around the world face up to the concept of impending death. If this sounds forbidding, don’t be misled. Lulu Wang’s charming and wryly amusing film examines its central theme with good humour and just a dash of poignancy.

Billi (Awkwafina) lives in New York City, where she’s trying to make headway as an author and has just been rejected for a prestigious Guggenheim fellowship. Her parents, Haiyan (Tzi Ma) and Lu Jian (Diana Lin), emigrated to America years ago and have made their lives there. But, when they suddenly announce they are heading back home to Changchun to attend the wedding of Billi’s young cousin, Hao Hao (Han Chen), and suggest that Billi should stay in America to pursue her studies,  she smells a rat.

Soon enough, the awful truth comes out. Billi’s beloved Grandmother, Nai Nai (Shuzhen Zao), has been diagnosed with stage four lung cancer and the wedding is simply a ruse to get the whole family together one last time. But everyone thinks that Billi, with her forthright Western ways, will be unable to keep this a secret – and, for the Chinese side of the family, it is unthinkable to reveal the truth in this situation. Billi goes to Changchun anyway, and finds herself wandering disconsolately through the elaborate wedding preparations, torn between keeping schtum and blurting out the truth.

This is an autobiographical tale and Wang, who also wrote the screenplay, depicts the wedding in all its convoluted complexity. I cringe even as I laugh at the ludicrous antics and the ridiculous lengths people are prepared to go to to ensure that Nai Nai never catches on. I also find myself salivating at the absolute blitzkreig of colourful food that’s on display. In one scene, the diners are surrounded by a carousel of sumptuous dishes that trundle serenely around them, each one looking more delectable than the last.

Awkwafina (who was surely the best thing about the otherwise rather awful Crazy Rich Asians) is a compelling presence here and, making her American flm debut, Shuzen Zao is a delight as the seemingly indominatable Nai Nai.

There’s a snippet of ‘real life’ information at the film’s conclusion that sends me out of the cinema with a smile on my face.

4 stars

Philip Caveney

 

 

Apocalypse Now: The Final Cut

04/09/19

Some film directors have an unfortunate habit of revisiting their earlier successes and producing new versions of them. But is it always the wisest move?

Apocalypse Now is a good case in point. It’s rightfully acclaimed as one of the greatest war (and anti-war) movies ever made, but Francis Ford Coppola will keep returning to the well and tinkering with his masterpiece. Now here we are on the 40th anniversary of its release and he’s gone and done it again, assembling a version that weighs in at a hefty three hours and two minutes.

I first saw the original in 1979, when it was a mere at two hours and twenty-seven minutes. It had been a weird kind of day. Cycling through Manchester, I was kicked off my bike by a football supporter through the open window of a passing car. Understandably shaken, I found a young policeman, helpfully hiding in a shop doorway, who told me that a visiting football team was running riot in the city centre. He advised me to ‘lie low’ for a while.

A bit further along Deansgate, the ABC Cinema was showing Apocalypse Now, and a war movie felt somehow appropriate. So in I duly trooped and was promptly blown away by what I saw. Coppola’s transposition of Joseph Conrad’s Heart of Darkness to the jungles of war-torn Vietnam felt masterful. Indeed, I watched it again only a few weeks later at the infamous Aaben cinema, where it was given added mystique by the fact that pretty much everybody at the screening was smoking dope. Er… far out.

But then in 2001 along came Redux and, with it, an extra forty-nine minutes of footage that had been excised from the theatrical release, including the French Plantation Sequence – three words that still strike horror into my heart. This seemingly interminable section where Captain Willard (Martin Sheen) eats a meal and is given a long lecture on Vietnam’s troubled history by the plantation owner has the unfortunate effect of stopping the film dead in its tracks. Was I the only movie fan who, on seeing the words ‘The Final Cut,’ fervently hoped that Coppola had actually shortened the running time by taking a large pair of scissors to this bit?

No such luck. There’s even more of it now. And it fatally wounds the film.

The problem is, it’s followed by the (already glacially slow) final set piece and any goodwill that the previous two thirds has earned itself evaporates all too quickly, as we watch Marlon Brando sitting in the darkness and mumbling incoherently.  Also, it must be said, that the ending – based on Conrad’s colonial-era novel with its white saviour storyline – looks a little dodgy when examined in the cold light of the present day.

A pity then, because – as ever – the film looks absolutely gorgeous, especially on the huge Imax screen. Many of the scenes have passed into movie legend, together with quotes from John Milius’s script (‘I love the smell of napalm in the morning’ – ‘Charlie don’t surf!’ – ‘Terminate with extreme prejudice,’ to name but three). The helicopter battle scenes are unparalleled and the film expertly portrays the complete insanity of war, depicting Willard’s upriver journey as a dark descent into his own battle-damaged psyche. Oh, and there’s also fun to be had watching out for early performances by Harrison Ford and Laurence Fishburne in supporting roles.

The original Apocalypse Now is undoubtedly a brilliant and unforgettable piece of cinema. This version (and it almost hurts me to say it) squanders its own strengths by giving its director free reign to put back things that were, for very sound reasons, removed in the first place. Those with weak bladders take note: time your toilet break to coincide with Willard’s arrival at the French plantation.

And take your time. Trust me, you won’t miss anything.

4 stars

Philip Caveney

The Mustang
Matthias Schoenaerts appears in The Mustang by Laure de Clermont-Tonnerre, an official selection of the Premieres program at the 2019 Sundance Film Festival. Courtesy of Sundance Institute. All photos are copyrighted and may be used by press only for the purpose of news or editorial coverage of Sundance Institute programs. Photos must be accompanied by a credit to the photographer and/or ‘Courtesy of Sundance Institute.’ Unauthorized use, alteration, reproduction or sale of logos and/or photos is strictly prohibited.

02/09/19

The Mustang premiered at Sundance in January and was immediately picked up for wider distribution. It’s easy to see why. This is a moving account of a long-term convict, jailed for an unspeakably violent crime, who finds redemption through his attempts to tame a wild horse. It is a powerful, smouldering tale, with a strong central message – that those who break the law need to be given every opportunity to attone for their crimes.

Matthias Schoenaerts stars as the improbably named Roman Coleman, currently serving his twelfth year for a savage assault on his former wife, and adamant that he does not want to be reintegrated into the outside world.  Whilst working on a maintenance programme, he meets up with Myles (Bruce Dern), a cantankerous old rancher who runs a rehibilitation programme, encouraging convicts to work alongside wild mustangs in an attempt to raise funds and save at least some of them from being culled.

At first Roman struggles to make headway with the stallion he has named Marquis, but -as he slowly begins to progress – so he is able to take stock of his life and think about repairing the divide between himself and his pregnant daughter, Martha (Gideon Adlon).

Schoenaerts delivers a compelling performance in the lead role, a man who has turned himself into a simmering pressure cooker of anger and self-disgust. Writer-director Laure de Clermont-Tonnerre is sure-footed enough to guide this story through the potential pitfalls. Yes, the symbolism is pretty obvious: both man and horse are creatures that are possessed by their own inner rage; both need to be ‘broken’ if they are to exist in the world. And yet The Mustang has none of the obvious ‘feelgood’ tropes that such stories often depend upon – indeed, I find myself pleasantly surprised by its steadfast refusal to entertain easy answers. Add to this Ruben Imens’ magnificent location photography and Jed Kurzel’s atmospheric score, and you have a film that lingers in the memory long after the credits have rolled.

The fact that the story is based on a genuine prison rehabilitation programme only serves to strengthen its appeal.

4.2 stars

Philip Caveney

 

Pain and Glory

01/09/19

Pedro Almadóvar’s twenty-first movie is his most openly autobiographical work to date. It’s the story of aging film director, Salvador Mallo (played by Almadóvar’s old muse, Antonio Banderas), who, after years of suffering from various crippling ailments, has lost his way and feels unable to continue with his stellar career.

When his 80s hit movie, Sabor, gets a re-release, he’s asked to attend a screening in Madrid alongside the film’s star, Alberto Crespo (Asier Etxeandia). Salvador hasn’t spoken to his former friend for thirty years, since a spectacular bust-up at the film’s première. But Salvador gamely visits Alberto, who is now in the throes of heroin addiction, and the two men soon end up ‘chasing the dragon’ together. This is the trigger that unleashes a series of childhood memories for Salvador: of his much put-upon mother, Jacinta (played both by Penelope Cruz and Julietta Serrano); of his eccentric schooling at a seminary in Madrid; and of his first sexual awakening, kindled by the presence of a young workman who visits the family home.

Pain and Glory is a gentle and charming film that takes on the tragedy of aging and the illusory nature of creativity with wisdom and panache. While the tone seems to veer alarmingly from scene to scene, and at one point even prompts questions about the wisdom of Almadóvar’s casting decisions, everything is brilliantly resolved in a final shot, where I suddenly realise that the story I am watching is not exactly what I think it is…

It’s the final piece in a complex cinematic puzzle composed by a genuine auteur.

This may not match the bravura delights of Women On the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown or Volver, but it’s nonetheless an assured work from one of contemporary cinema’s most accomplished directors.

4.2 Stars

Philip Caveney

Crawl
Kaya Scodelario and Barry Pepper star in CRAWL from Paramount Pictures. Photo Credit: Courtesy Paramount Pictures.

29/08/19

There’s something refreshingly straightforward and unapologetic about Crawl. This isn’t a film that comes loaded with subtext or, indeed, any kind of ‘message.’ It is essentially a creature-feature, the story of two people desparately trying to avoid being eaten by alligators. Director Alexandre Aja keeps the narrative to a lean, mean one-hour-twenty-seven minutes, during which time he racks up the suspense to almost unbearable levels. You want jump scares? There are plenty of them here, timed with enough precision to make you jolt in your seat. You want creepy oppressive atmosphere? That’s here too, in abundance.

Hayley Keller (Kaya Scoledario) is a competive swimmer, who, since her parents’ divorce, has become somewhat estranged from her father (and former trainer), Dave (Barry Pepper). However, when a hurricane wreaks havoc on the stretch of Florida coastline where he lives and he repeatedly fails to answer his phone, Hayley is concerned enough to drive over to the family homestead to check on him.

Big mistake. Dave, it turns out, is trapped in the cellar, having been chomped on by a big ‘gator. To add to his woes, the water levels are rapidly rising, giving more ‘gators easy access to the house. Once down in the cellar with her stricken father, Hayley realises that, if they don’t get out of there fast, they’ll both be goners. But escaping turns out to be a whole lot more complicated than she could ever have imagined.

Having quickly set up the scenario, screenwriters Michael and Shawn Rasmussen proceed to put Hayley and Dave (and by default, the audience) through the wringer. Okay, so maybe there’s one attack too many here and some of the hair-raising escapes will prompt the occasional raised eyebrow – particularly when the few other featured characters are made such short work of – but this is largely successful, and the result is sufficiently entertaining to hold my attention to the final frame. A word of warning though. If injury details make you nauseous, this might not be the film for you.

Oh, and one other thing. Any ambitions I might have had to pay a visit to Florida have now been put on hold. Just saying.

4 stars

Philip Caveney

 

Hail Satan?
Protest sign against The Satanic Temple in Little Rock, AR from HAIL SATAN?, a Magnolia Pictures release. Photo courtesy of Magnolia Pictures.

28/08/19

Members of The Satanic Temple (TST) call themselves Satanists, but they don’t worship the devil. Instead, they deploy his iconography to rile America’s right-wing Christians, and to protest the creeping coalescence  of church and state. Led by Harvard graduate Lucien Greaves, they believe in goodwill, benevolence, open-mindedness and free expression. They support LGBT+ rights, and embark on charitable missions: litter-picking, giving dry socks to homeless people, donating tampons and sanitary towels to women’s shelters.

Penny Lane’s documentary is a wry, amusing exposé of this underground religion/political movement, and its impact on the easily outraged. TST’s creed is strictly non-violent, which repeatedly wrong-foots their targets, whose expectations are based on hysterical horror-movie imagery. Angry politicians don’t know quite how to denounce these gentle, mild-mannered ‘Satanists’ with their reasonable demands and humanitarian goals. It’s hilarious to watch.

There are some serious points being made. One TST adherent recalls being rebuked by his Catholic church for playing Dungeons and Dragons and listening to heavy metal. But, as he points out, while he was just a kid listening to music and playing games, real evil was being carried out by priests, and covered up by those in charge. The fingers were pointing in the wrong direction.

It’s a fascinating watch, told with engaging lightness and a sense of frivolity, but actually showing how provocation can be an effective form of activism. Fundamentalist Christianity can’t be allowed to dictate laws, and TST are determined to prevent them from doing so.

4 stars

Susan Singfield

Blinded By the Light
Viveik Kalra, Nell Williams and Aaron Phagura appear in Blinded by the Light by Gurinder Chadha, an official selection of the Premieres program at the 2019 Sundance Film Festival. Courtesy of Sundance Institute | photo by Nick Wall. All photos are copyrighted and may be used by press only for the purpose of news or editorial coverage of Sundance Institute programs. Photos must be accompanied by a credit to the photographer and/or ‘Courtesy of Sundance Institute.’ Unauthorized use, alteration, reproduction or sale of logos and/or photos is strictly prohibited.

16/8/19

Javed (Viveik Kalra) is a Pakistani teenager living in Luton in the 1980s. Struggling under the leash of his dictatorial father, Malik (Kulvinda Ghir), Javed harbours a longheld desire to be a writer. But, assailed on an almost daily basis by the racist taunts of brutal skinheads and the depravations of the Thatcher government, he realises his first need is to get a decent education and then get the hell out of there.

On his first day at sixth-form college, he meets up with Roops (Aaron Phagura), a Sikh teenager, who – like Javed – is always plugged in to his Walkman. When Javed asks what he’s listening to, Roops lends him a couple of Bruce Springsteen cassesttes. ‘You can thank me later,’ he says. Javed is of course, doubtful. Springsteen? That’s dad-rock, isn’t it? But when he finally does listen, the first track he hears is Born to Run – and he has something of an epiphany. Springsteen seems to be singing about Javed’s life, about a kid on the edge who dreams of escape. And pretty soon, Javed is seeing the Boss as something like his spirit guide. Perhaps there really is a brighter future waiting for him. But then Malik loses his job and all bets are off.

Gurinder Chadha’s film is an eminently likeable affair, based on Sarfraz Manzoor’s autobiographical book, Greetings From Bury Park. Javed is a charming hero and there are plenty of scenes here to keep audiences entertained – though it definately helps to be Springsteen-literate. The film’s at its best when protagonists are joyfully interracting with the music – a frantic chase around the streets of Luton to the strains of Thunder Road is a standout and I also love the scenes where the Boss’s lyrics are projected onto the landscape as Javed strides determinedly through a storm.

The film’s uneven though, and the hostility between Javed and his father feels a little over-familiar. Furthermore, I’m not sure I quite buy the adoring English teacher, Miss Clay (Hayley Atwell), who enters Javed’s composition for a prestigious award without running it by him first. At one-hour-fifty-seven minutes, the film is overstuffed – it  could lose twenty minutes of running time without sacrificing anything in the way of storyline.

That said, this is an entertaining tale and it is nice to relive those early Springsteen tracks in all their glory. I also worshipped at the Boss’s altar back in the day.

3.8 stars

Philip Caveney

Once Upon a Time in Hollywood

15/09/19

We’re deep into our annual scramble at the Edinburgh Fringe, but there’s a problem. Once Upon a Time in Hollywood has opened and I need to see it. Not, I should hasten to add, because I’m a fan of Quentin Tarantino. Quite the opposite. Indeed, I’d go so far as to say that – in my opinion – he’s the most overrated film director in history. But, The Cameo is screening the film in 35 mm, using a projector that was made some time in the 1940s and that’s something that the geek in me needs to see. So, a two-hour-and-forty-one minute slot is located in our schedule, and here I sit as the lights dim and the screen kicks into life.

The first thing to say is that the film looks incredible. Light projected through celluloid will always be superior to a digital print. That’s a fact. And I will also add that the film’s musical score is also pretty fantastic, featuring a plethora of sparkling 60s pop classics. But I’m afraid that’s the last good thing I have to say about Once Upon a Time in Hollywood.

The plot: actor Rick Dalton (Leonardo DiCaprio) was once a big name in Hollywood, due to regular starring roles in Western TV shows, but now his star is beginning to wane. He lives in a big house on Cielo Drive and is driven around by his gofer, Cliff Booth (Brad Pitt), who lives in a lowly caravan a short distance away. Booth too is on his uppers. Once a respected stuntman, he is now reduced to fetching and carrying for Rick. Oh, and the rumour is that back in the day, he murdered his wife. Next door lives the director du jour, Roman Polanski (Rafal Zawierucha), fresh off the hit film Rosemary’s Baby, and his pregnant wife, Sharon Tate (Margot Robbie). And meanwhile, up at Spahn’s Ranch, the Manson family are gearing up for some very dark deeds…

Look, the truth is, I really should like this film. The era fascinates me and so does the central story around which this is based. But what I see onscreen is an interminable trudge through a series of over-extended background stories, with Tarantino spending far too long on telling them and being far too pleased with his evocations of 60s cinema and television. Margot Robbie barely gets any lines of dialogue (which sadly enforces Tarantino’s reputation as a misogynist), the great Bruce Lee is depicted as an absolute dick, and a whole troupe of respected actors – Bruce Dern, Dakota Fanning, Timothy Olyphant, Kurt Russell, Al Pacino – are brought onscreen to perform five minutes of pointless ‘acting,’ before being summarily dismissed.

And then there’s that fairytale ending, applauded by many film critics as ‘audacious,’ but which to me seems merely dumb and kind of borderline offensive. Tarantino has previous form here as anyone who saw Inglourious Basterds will know.

Look, the man has many fans and this film has already been widely praised by other critics, so maybe I just need to accept that his style of filmmaking is not for me. But nobody is ever going to convince me that he is a director in control of his own process. Two hours and forty one minutes? Really?

But that 35mm print. Now that is class.

2.5 stars

Philip Caveney