Film

Tomb Raider

 

23/03/18

Has there ever been a decent video-game movie adaptation? From Super Mario to Assassin’s Creed, the concept seems somehow doomed  to failure. Tomb Raider has, of course, already been tried before – with middling results and Angelina Jolie in the title role. Now here’s Alicia Vikander staking her claim to that fabled bow and arrow, and to be fair to her, she certainly looks the part. She’s clearly put in hours down the gym honing the old biceps and triceps. She’s also ditched the ridiculous hot pants of her video avatar in favour of clothing more suitable for jungle exploration, which is, I think, a good thing. I’m not sure about the posh boarding school accent, though.

We first meet her in London, where she’s earning pennies as a bicycle courier, rather than signing the paperwork that will entitle her to the Croft mansion and its accompanying billions. (Yeah, right, like that would happen.) You see, her father, Lord Richard Croft (Dominic West), has been missing for seven years, but Lara, always a bit of a daddy’s girl, isn’t quite ready to give up on his possible return, despite her legal guardian, Ana (Kristen Scott Thomas), continually urging her to sign on the dotted line. It seems that Lord Richard has disappeared while looking for a legendary island off the coast of Japan, the last resting place of an evil Empress, reputed to have the power to destroy the world. When Lara discovers her father’s secret lair in the cellar of his stately home, she also finds a map of the island and a video of her father urging her to destroy it. Does she follow his advice? Well, it would be a pretty short and dull story if she did…

Instead, she heads to Japan and enlists the help of ship’s captain Lu Ren (Daniel Wu) – somebody else with father-issues – to take her to the island. Once there, she discovers that an evil organisation is also looking for the tomb of the Empress and has sent the ruthless (and very sweaty) Mathias Vogel (Walter Goggins) to oversee the operation. But who will reach the tomb first? And what kind of welcome are they likely to receive?

For all the running, leaping, swimming and fighting that Lara is regularly called upon to perform, the film feels curiously turgid and only fizzes into life intermittently. The blend of Indiana Jones-ish high adventure mixed with a touch of the paranormal is probably a fair encapsulation of the original game but, no matter how high the production values employed by director Roar Uthaug, there’s a terrible sense of ‘seen it all before’ hovering over nearly every scene. And… does it really matter that the storyline doesn’t make an awful lot of sense? It does to me, anyway. But I’m finicky like that.

This is a thick-eared slab of undemanding light entertainment that never really cooks up the necessary head of steam needed to power its own concept. A post-credits sequence optimistically sets up a possible sequel but, based on this, I certainly won’t be the first in the queue to watch it.

And I ask again. Has there ever been a decent video-game movie adaptation? If so, I haven’t seen it.

3 stars

Philip Caveney

Unsane
Steven-Soderbergh-Haywire-image

21/03/18

Continuing what must be the most unconvincing retirement in cinematic history, Steven Soderbergh is back once again with this energetic little exploitation movie. Allegedly shot on iPhones, it’s the story of a young woman’s struggle with an obsessive stalker. It’s fast-paced and occasionally gripping, even if the plot line sometimes causes the involuntary raising of eyebrows.

Sawyer Valentini (Claire Foy, a long way from Buckingham Palace), has relocated to Pennsylvania after suffering two years of being terrorised by David Strine (Joshua Leonard), a man who first became infatuated with her when she nursed his dying father. But when she starts spotting a familiar bearded face around the office in which she now works, she starts to wonder if her mind is playing tricks on her. She decides to visit a psychiatrist and, during an apparently informal one-to-one,  confesses that she  sometimes has thoughts of suicide. She is asked to sign some papers, which she does. Before she quite knows what’s happening, she realises she has just committed herself to be an inmate of the Highland Creek Behavioural Centre, a place that specialises in admitting ordinary people and exploiting them until their medical insurance runs out.  Foy handles the slow realisation of her predicament brilliantly and Soderbergh maintains a steadily mounting sense of paranoia throughout, even though the  concept does seem decidedly far-fetched. We are reminded several times that Highland Creek isn’t averse to bending the rules, but really? It’s that easy to find yourself locked up? Gosh, I hope not.

Things rapidly get worse for Sawyer, with the arrival of a hospital orderly who looks and acts exactly like her old adversary, Strines. But is he real… or just a product of Sawyer’s disturbed mind? As the tension racks up, she has only two people she can turn to for help – her estranged mother, Angela (Amy Irving), and fellow inmate, Nate (Jay Pharaoh), a man who may not be exactly what he seems. Everyone else she speaks to treats her like somebody who has, well, lost touch with reality.

To fully enjoy this, you’ll need to be able to suspend your disbelief – and it’s not always easy. It’s well acted and queasily credible at times, but scenes that show Foy running around an apparently deserted building do make me smile at inappropriate moments. What’s happened to all the staff? And how can a hospital orderly exercise such total control over the place in which he works?

Still, it’s nice to have Soderbergh back, even if this doesn’t quite measure up to his finest work. And if this is an example of what can be achieved using an iPhone, then surely we really have entered an age where becoming a film director is as easy as pulling out your mobile – although most of us won’t be able to call on old pal, Matt Damon, to put in a virtually uncredited cameo role as a security expert.

Still, no worries. Pass me that phone. Now… quiet on set, please! And, action!

3.8 stars

Philip Caveney

The Square

18/03/18

In The Square, writer-director Ruben Östlund posits an age-old question: what is art? The response he offers, however, is original and refreshing, and we leave the cinema with a lot to think about.

Claes Bang is Christian, chief curator of a prestigious Swedish gallery. He talks of pushing boundaries, seeking truths about humanity, attracting audiences beyond the usual ‘culture-vulture’ crowd. He’s a sympathetic character with a gentle demeanour and an affable charm – and he appears to have a genuine curiosity about what art can achieve.

When he’s mugged, though – in broad daylight, on a busy street, amidst a sea of commuters  – the lines between art and life are blurred. He’s scammed by a trio of actors – a fake cry for help (a sound that echoes throughout the movie), a fake attacker, a fake would-be-hero who enlists Christian’s support. Excited rather than irked by the robbery – he’s rich; he can afford to lose what they take – Christian decides to play them at their own game, embellishing his account of what’s occurred, and engaging in an equally audacious and staged riposte. We never know if any of the consequences are real – or if they’re just a continuation of the prank.

Is this art? If not, why not? What makes it different from Oleg (Terry Notary)’s ape performance at a charity dinner, where he terrorises the guests, first humiliating Julian (Dominic West) and then brutally attacking Prinsessan Madeleine (Madeleine Barwén Trollvik)? And how much of this is real, anyway? Are the victims actors too? And what about their rescuers? We’re left to ponder these ideas.

Despite its esoteric leanings, Östlund’s film is admirably accessible. There are numerous story strands, but they’re all as well lit as the exhibits in the gallery, with space for the audience to stand back and think. It’s funny too – and cynical. Even when a gag seems obvious, such as the unpopular ‘mirrors and piles of gravel’ exhibition being hoovered up by an over-enthusiastic cleaner, we’re pushed to think beyond our first response, as Christian whispers to his assistant, “We’ve got photographs, we’ve got the gravel; we’ll rebuild it ourselves; no one will know.” And so we’re forced to ask: if they succeed in replicating it, will it still be the same piece of art?

The over-arching story is one of personal development: Christian is not without his flaws, and he learns much as he confronts his privilege and prejudice. Elisabeth Moss is fabulous (of course) as Anne, with whom he has a one-night stand, and Daniel Hallberg and Martin Sööder provide some welcome light relief as trendy PR gurus, charged with sending new commission ‘The Square’ viral (they’re not dissimilar to Siobhan, Jessica Hynes’ W1A character; PR is obviously a target ripe for satire). Their ‘art’, of course, is considered beyond the pale, even though it garners the attention the ‘real’ artists crave.

This is a fascinating movie, eminently watchable and thought-provoking too. A tad too long, perhaps – a twenty-minute trim would have improved things for me – but all-in-all, definitely one to watch.

4.4 stars

Susan Singfield

Kiki’s Delivery Service

18/03/18

Our Studio Ghibli initiation continues apace, as we find ourselves – for the third week running – taking advantage of The Cameo’s most welcome retrospective. It’s snowing today, but that doesn’t appear to have deterred anyone from venturing out, and the audience figures seem very healthy for a Sunday afternoon. There’s a lovely atmosphere in the cinema, a sense of nostalgia and shared pleasure. It’s a delight to be here.

Based on the novel by Eiko Kadono, this screenplay by director Hayao Miyazaki is as delightful as even our brief acquaintance with Ghibli has led us to expect. Kiki (Minami Takayama) is a witch and, as she’s just turned thirteen, tradition has it that she must leave home and seek a town in which to complete her witch training. She’s sad to leave her family, of course, but keen to assert her independence, and she sets off in high spirits, determined to forge a new life in a big town near the sea. She strikes lucky, landing a job in a bakery in a bustling city, and accommodation with an ocean view. She and her sarcastic cat, Jiji (Rei Sakuma), settle in happily, and Kiki uses her broomstick skills to set up a speedy delivery service.

But this is a coming-of-age story, and adolescence – it turns out – is as tough for a witch as it is for anyone. Kiki is tongue-tied and embarrassed when Tombo (Kappei Yamaguchi) invites her to a party; she’s self-conscious about her clothes; she becomes withdrawn and depressed. Worse, she loses the ability to understand what Jiji says (although this may have more to do with Jiji’s own growing up, as he falls for local cat, Lily, and fathers kittens with her) and then finds she can no longer fly. Still, we’re not kept in the doldrums for long, as we learn – alongside Kiki – that if we’re patient, rest, take care of ourselves, and allow our friends to help us, that our spirits will revive and we’ll become ourselves again.

If that sounds saccharine, it shouldn’t. The story is smartly told, and not overly sentimental. Not everything is resolved. Madame’s ungrateful granddaughter, for example, remains just that: not a character in need of redemption, simply a selfish girl. But it’s utterly adorable, just heart-warming and beautiful and a perfect way to spend a Sunday.

4.1 stars

Susan Singfield

Annihilation

16/03/18

Another day, and another movie goes straight to Netflix. After Mute and The Cloverfield Paradox, this is starting to feel like a trend, though in the case of Annihilation, writer/director Alex Garland has been very vocal about his displeasure in learning that his brainchild would not be receiving a theatrical release. The reason he was given by Paramount? The film was ‘too intellectual.’ More likely, perhaps, is the fact that too many big-budget science fiction movies have failed to put bums on seats over the past year.  Whatever the explanation, the film’s expensive credentials are evident and it must be said that some of the more eye-popping effects sequences really would have looked a lot more impressive on a big screen.

Soldier-turned-college-biology-lecturer, Lena (Natalie Portman), is in a bad place in the film’s early stretches. Her husband, Kane (Oscar Isaac), is a soldier, missing in action for over a year after being sent away on a secret mission – but she hasn’t quite given up hope that he will return. Then, quite unexpectedly, he does come back, acting very strangely, shortly before collapsing into a coma. On the way to the nearest hospital, the ambulance is intercepted by soldiers and Lena and Kane are rushed to a secret facility in Florida, where Kane is put on life support. Lena meets scientist Dr Ventress (Jennifer Jason Leigh), who tells her about ‘The Shimmer’ – a strange, shifting dimension that has established itself in the Everglades after a mysterious meteor strike. The Shimmer appears to be constantly expanding and Ventress tells Lena that Kane was part of a team sent in there to investigate. The other members have all disappeared without trace. Ventress explains that she is planning to lead an all-female team in there in a few days’ time and, perhaps unsurprisingly, Lena elects to go with them.

Once inside this unknown dimension, things begin to go very weird, very quickly. The team soon establish that here, species are getting their individual DNA all mixed up with others. This can be as enchanting as flowers sprouting multi coloured petals from the same stem, or growing into the shape of humans – but it can also be as sinister as a huge alligator which seems to have merged with a shark, creating a creature you most definitely do not want to spend any time with. As the team make their way closer and closer to the site of the meteor impact it begins to look as though their chances of surviving this mission are growing perilously slim…

Annihilation is a decent sci-fi movie, if not an exceptional one – and it’s nowhere near as effective as Garland’s previous effort, the criminally underrated Ex Machina. It’s refreshing though to see an action film that is predominately led by female actors, even if I really didn’t learn an awful lot about their respective characters – and there’s one particular sequence in here, featuring a mutated bear, that really did push the throttle headlong in the direction of terror. There’s an interesting conclusion too, which will doubtless prompt some discussion after the credits have rolled.

In the end, it’s hard to say whether this film would have done much business at the cinema. I actually doubt it. And, judging by what I’ve seen on social media, it’s getting plenty of  viewings on Netflix, even if most of the resulting comments are far from complimentary.

One thing’s for sure. It’s an easy matter to tune in and judge for yourselves.

4 stars

Philip Caveney

My Neighbor Totoro

11/03/18

After the harrowing Grave of the Fireflies, the next film in the Cameo Cinema’s Studio Ghibli season comes as a slice of light relief. My Neighbor Totoro is the enchanting story of two intrepid young girls from the city, Satsuki (voiced by Noriko Hadaka) and her little sister, Mei (Chika Sakamoto). In the opening scenes, we watch as the girls move with their father to a dilapidated house in the Japanese countryside in order to be closer to their mother, who is ill in hospital (with what, exactly, we are never told).

The old house harbours some fascinating secrets, including the little creatures called ‘Soot Spreaders’, who haunt the dark corners of each room and scatter away whenever humans approach; but Satsuki and Mei seem to greet such visitors with interest and delight, rather than dread. If there’s a central message here it seems to be ‘embrace the inexplicable’ and that’s exactly what the girls do, encouraged by the enthusiasm and positivity of their father. They soon make friends with Granny (Tania Kitabayashi), an old lady who lives nearby and even with Kanta (Toshiyuki Amagasa), a teenage boy who initially appears to be unfriendly but who proves to be a friend when push comes to shove. The girls also discover that the nearby forest is home to a collection of mystical creatures, not least the strange shambling clawed beast known as Totoro, who, unlike most monsters, turns out to friendly and helpful.

As in ‘Fireflies,’ this story perfectly captures the essence of a moody but resourceful  little girl (Mei) and her interplay with Totoro provides much of the humour here. Their antics are often laugh-out-loud funny. The storyline has strong echoes of Alice In Wonderland, particularly in Mei’s pursuit of a rabbit-like creature down an underground opening and in the form of a Cheshire Cat-headed magical ‘coach’, summoned by Totoro to take the girls off on fantastic adventures. Written and directed by Hayao Miyazaki, this is a delightful film that has genuine appeal for all ages. It’s also quite beautiful to look at – some of the gorgeous woodland vistas captured here would not look out of place on the walls of an art gallery.

Utterly beguiling. The Cameo’s season continues on Sunday 18th of March with Kiki’s Delivery Service. Get those tickets booked now!!

4.2 stars

Philip Caveney

You Were Never Really Here

10/03/18

There’s plenty to admire in You Were Never Really Here. Lynne Ramsay’s edgy, coiled-spring of an action movie, based on a novella by Jonathan Ames, is deeply unsettling, even if I can’t help drawing comparisons with an even better film, Taxi Driver, with which it shares a central premise.

Ramsay’s take on the idea is a much more fragmentary affair than Martin Scorcese’s 1976 masterpiece, flickering eerily in and out of past trauma and often showing us images that turn out to be no more than sick fantasies in the head of the central character.

That character is Joe (Joaquin Phoenix),  a shambling, bearlike presence in this film, muttering in monosyllables and wandering morosely from scene to scene as he metes out grim retribution to those he believes are beyond saving. He’s a traumatised ex-soldier and former FBI agent, who now earns a crust  tracking down missing girls – and sadly there seems to be no shortage of them in the cities of America. In his down time, Joe cares for his aging mother (Judith Roberts), with whom he shares a touching, almost childlike bond.

Joe has a healthy paranoia about being seen by others (hence the title) and always does his level best to stay off the radar. His services are enlisted by Senator Albert Votto (Alex Manette), whose teenage daughter, Nina (Ekaterina Samsonov) has been kidnapped by a well-connected paedophile. She is being held hostage in a city hotel room, so Joe goes in to rescue her, armed with his favourite weapon, a ball-peen hammer. But he soon comes to fully appreciate just how powerful Nina’s kidnapper is – and it isn’t long before he has become a target for the man’s deadly enforcers.

This is an uncompromisingly brutal film, the many scenes of violence somehow made even more affecting by the fact that we glimpse them from a distance, or through the impassive monochrome gaze of a hotel’s security cameras. The action is liberally crosscut with harrowing memories of Joe’s troubled childhood, when he and his mother were regularly terrorised by Joe’s abusive father. It soon becomes apparent that what Joe is seeking more than anything else is some kind of redemption for his own suffering.

This is not an easy film to watch, but it’s nonetheless mesmerising. Phoenix is utterly convincing in the central role, there’s a bruising score by Johnny Greenwood, and Ramsay directs with a confident, almost hallucinatory style, never over-explaining the story, allowing her viewers to reach their own conclusions through the barrage of conflicting images she immerses them in.

It’s a powerful brew, not for the faint-hearted.

4.5 stars

Philip Caveney

Red Sparrow

05/03/18

There’s no doubt that Red Sparrow is a problematic film. The controversy over its apparent misogyny (with graphic depictions of rape and sexual violence) has been loud, and I have to admit I’m not predisposed to like it.

Still, I try to keep an open mind and, actually, I don’t find it particularly anti-feminist. There’s no denying the sexism of the culture portrayed, nor of many of the characters, but this feels more like a comment on what women have to do to succeed within a system that denies them any power than an endorsement of the patriarchy.

Jennifer Lawrence is Dominika, a Russian ballerina, who – after a horrific dancing ‘accident’ – is coerced by her Uncle Vanya (Matthias Schoenaerts) into attending “whore school,” where the Matron (Charlotte Rampling) teaches her recruits to respond to the sexual desires of targeted others in the name of patriotism. Once graduated, Dominika is given her first mission – to seduce American CIA agent Nate Nash (Joel Egerton), and the double-dealing shenanigans  begin.

It starts well. There’s a great sequence where Dominika’s fateful ballet performance is cross cut with Nate’s skirmish in Gorki Park, the pace of both segments growing ever faster and more frantic as the tension builds. And the ending is decent too, with a satisfying pay-off that I won’t reveal.

But there are problems with the lumpen stuff  that’s in-between. Firstly, the Red Sparrow Academy, the concept of which is – quite frankly – risible. I find myself stifling giggles as Matron impassively tweaks the cadets’ nipples, or orders  them to perform lewd acts on each other. And the stuff that follows – the actual spying – is, dare I say it, deadly dull. It’s probably a more accurate depiction of the life of a secret agent than the high-octane thrills we get from, say, a Jason Bourne movie, but it’s a lot more boring too. And then there’s the violence, which is extreme and often feels gratuitous. One lengthy torture scene in particular is very hard to watch, and the detail doesn’t add much to my understanding of the film.

The performances are as excellent as you’d expect; her recent tabloid fall-from-grace notwithstanding, Lawrence is, I think, a fine actor and she has total command of this role. Edgerton and Schoenaerts provide efficient support and the cinematography is more than just decent.

But still. It’s not enough to make this particular bird fly.

2.8 stars

Susan Singfield

Grave of the Fireflies

04/03/18

I like to think that I have a fairly broad knowledge of most things cinematic but if there’s a weak spot in my armoury, it’s definitely animation – and in particular, the large body of work created by Japan’s Studio Ghibli. This is not intentional, merely the fact that such work is hard to find on the big screen, which I feel is the best place to view it. But The Red Turtle, Ghibli’s co-production with Michael Dudok de Wit featured in our ‘best of 2017’ selection, so I was definitely in the market to see more of it – and then I heard that Edinburgh’s Cameo Cinema were planning a Ghibli retrospective. Perfect.

Grave of the Fireflies (1988) is set in Japan towards the end of World War 2 as Allied bombers move in to decimate any last traces of opposition. (Yes, Walt Disney this most emphatically is not). A teenage boy, Seita (voiced by Tsutomu Tatsumi) is faced with the tricky task of looking after his little sister, Setsuko (Ayano Shiraishi), when their mother dies after a devastating bombing raid. Their father, a battleship commander, is nowhere to be seen and they have no way of contacting him. In the aftermath of the war, even finding food is a major problem. At first, the two youngsters move in with their aunt and uncle, who are ready to fulfil their familial obligations, but resentment soon begins to smoulder and Seita and Setsuko eventually decide that they will be much happier looking after themselves…

As an introduction to Studio Ghibli, this is an inspired choice. The film is curiously bleak, shot through with an almost overwhelming sense of melancholy, yet for all that, there are moments of genuine enchantment here. The characterisation of  Setsuko is particularly engaging, effortlessly capturing the bewilderment of a little girl cruelly torn from her parents, yet still capable of finding wonder in the simplest of things. And of course, every frame looks absolutely sumptuous. I also loved the circular narrative of the story. When we first encounter the two youngsters, they are vintage ghosts, haunting the streets of modern city – and there’s the clever device of a sweet tin containing marbles that only begins to fully make sense as the story builds. The film’s overpoweringly sad conclusion will wring tears from all but the most stoic of viewers, but that’s no bad thing – and it’s easy to appreciate the love and care that has gone in to every frame of this lovely and haunting film.

The Cameo will be screening a Studio Ghibli classic every Sunday afternoon for the next five weeks. Next up, My Neighbour Totoro. Can’t wait.

4.6 stars

Philip Caveney

Finding Your Feet

28/02/18

It’s tempting to imagine the kind of think-tank meeting that might well have preceded this film.

‘OK, guys, we need to create a movie that appeals to the silver-haired brigade. You know, another Exotic Marigold Hotel. That made millions!’

‘Great. Well, first of all, we’ll need a few National Treasures in the cast. Imelda Staunton, perhaps? Check! Timothy Spall? Excellent! Of course, we’ll have to get Celia Imrie in there somewhere and… oh, yes, Joanna Lumley! And we’ll need to give them something to do. You know, something a bit naughty. Smoking pot, perhaps…. knocking back malt whisky and… dancing! Yes, let’s have them dancing…’

And so on. The inevitable effect, unfortunately, makes Finding Your Feet feel like a cynical exercise in box-ticking. Which is a shame, because there are some excellent actors in this, doing their level best to make it work.

Sandra (Staunton) is the well-to-do wife of Mike (John Sessions), a former chief constable. Hosting his retirement party at their palatial home, she discovers that he’s been cheating on her for the past five years with Pamela (Josie Lawrence) and, understandably miffed, she packs her bags and heads off to the council estate home of her estranged sister, Biff (Imrie), who is what might be described in these circles as ‘a bit  of a character.’ Sandra is understandably in a foul mood when she arrives, which goes some way to explain her general unpleasantness towards everyone she encounters, but not the scene in a Chinese restaurant where her attitude borders on out-and-out racism. Quite why Biff doesn’t send her packing is anybody’s guess.

Meanwhile, Biff’s close friend, Charlie (Spall), lives on a barge and is currently watching in helpless dismay as his wife, Lilly (Sian Thomas), who has been consigned the the tender mercies of a nursing home, slips further and further into the grip of senile dementia. His first encounters with Sandra are not exactly cordial but, when Biff manages to persuade her sister to come along to the weekly dance class that Charlie also attends, he and Sandra have a quick spin out on the dance floor and, against all the odds, they start to enjoy each other’s company.

What else do we need here? Oh yes, of course, let’s ship the whole cast off to an exotic location – in this case Rome – so they can participate in an international dance festival and where that new relationship can be allowed to blossom. Oh wait, there’s still one vital ingredient missing… oh yes, a terminal illness. Perfect!

All this manages to yield not one single surprise in the telling, and you have to feel a little sorry for the actors who work their socks off to sell this tosh, but even they can’t quite convince us to actually care. I think what’s been overlooked is that The Exotic Marigold Hotel was a more heartfelt affair, with the heft of a Deborah Moggach novel behind it, and – even so – its success as a film most probably came as a pleasant surprise to everyone involved. Indeed, the attempted sequel was a pretty woeful affair as the makers attempted to replicate its charms.

Viewers can easily tell the difference between a genuine story and a marketing exercise. With Finding Your Feet I simply cannot escape the feeling that behind all those light-hearted escapades lurks a mean-spirited attempt to part older viewers from their money – and try as I might, I can’t quite forgive it for that.

2.8 stars

Philip Caveney