The Drop

16/11/14

Based on a short story by Denis Lehane, The Drop is a slow-burning crime drama that revolves around a seedy bar in Brooklyn. Here, Bob Saginowski (Tom Hardy) serves the drinks, under the watchful eye of his cousin Marv (James Gandolphini in his final screen role.) The bar is a regular ‘drop’ for the Chechnyan gang lords who actually own the place, somewhere to deposit illicit money generated by drugs, prostitution, protection rackets… you name it. Over the years, Marv and Bob have learned that it’s safer to just go along with things, rather than bringing the wrath of their employers down on their heads. But when Bob chances upon a badly beaten puppy in a litter bin belonging to Nadia (Noomi Rapace) things get a little more complicated – she is the ex girlfriend of Eric Deeds (Matthias Schoenearts) the puppy’s owner and a self-professed killer. It soon becomes clear that Deeds wants his dog (and Nadia) back – he doesn’t seem to make much distinction between the two of them. Then, an armed robbery at the bar relieves the ‘owners’ of $5,000 and it’s inevitable that the Chechnyans are going to want their money back…

Hardy is terrific in the lead role. He seems to be channeling Brando’s memorable turn as boxer Terry Molloy in On The Waterfront, delivering a hugely appealing character that seems as helpless as he is vulnerable. But in Lehane’s world, still waters run deep and there are a couple of twists in the narrative that are sure to take you by surprise. Gandolphini bows out in style, depicting a man who is impelled towards crime, not because of greed but by personal circumstance. This movie shows a side of America that we rarely see on film, an unabashedly blue collar world of grime, debt and criminal corruption. Though it takes its time to reveal the whole story, there’s a constant simmering threat of violence hanging over everything that happens and the conclusion, when it finally arrives, is brutal and shattering.

While in no way a ‘big’ movie, The Drop has a confident, engrossing narrative and is yet another notch in Hardy’s chameleon-like ability to portray characters from all continents and all walks of life. And it serves as a fine farewell for James Gandolphini, to whom the film is respectfully dedicated.

3.9 stars

Philip Caveney

The Imitation Game

15/11/14

So many bottoms on seats at a Saturday afternoon showing for what is, ostensibly, an ‘art house’ movie can mainly be put down to one thing – the Cumberbatch Effect. Seriously, this man could go on film and read his shopping lists and an eager audience would surely turn up to watch him do it. So what a good thing that The Imitation Game is a unqualified delight, a truly absorbing and compelling tale, expertly told, that, despite a running time of 114 minutes, doesn’t flag for a moment. And in the lead role of mathematician and all-round genius, Alan Turing, Cumberbatch is (it has to be said) quite extraordinary.

Of course it’s not the first time that this story has been attempted in the cinema. Some may remember Enigma (2001), where Dougray Scott was charged with playing a fictional version of Turing called Tom Jericho and where all the awkward stuff was summarily skipped. Perhaps unsurprisingly, it was a box office failure. This version of the story, however, stays closer to the facts and is all the better for it.

The film opens in 1951, where Manchester-based detective, Inspector Nock (Rory Kinnear) investigates a mysterious break in at Turing’s apartment and guesses that the man is hiding secrets, but he can have little idea of the web of intrigue that is going to be revealed as a result of his investigation. History of course has (eventually) recorded that Turing is the man who turned the tide of World War Two, by deciphering the German’s Enigma Code. In so doing, he shortened the course of the war by two years, saved millions of lives and (almost as a side-effect) pioneered the use of computers. But it’s also a tragic story. He was treated abominably for being a homosexual at a time when such a thing was illegal and suffered the almost unimaginable consequences.

Norwegian director Morten Tyldum ( Headhunters) handles the proceedings with great skill and he’s aided and abetted by a superb screenplay by Graham Moore, one that skips effortlessly back and forth in time without ever confusing the audience and manages to make the most complex material easily understandable. An ensemble cast delivers a host of note-perfect performances. Keira Knightly as Joan Clarke, Turing’s doomed would-be fiancé, is a particular delight and both Charles Dance and Mark Strong excel in their roles as, respectively, a crusty Commander and a secret service operative. Special mention should also be made for Alex Lawther, who plays Turing as a boy, a matching of two actors that, for once, absolutely convinces. But, even amidst such riches, this is undoubtedly Cumberbatch’s movie and he manages to nail Turing’s (clearly autistic) character absolutely, by turns funny, awkward and inspirational. The film’s conclusion is just heartbreaking and only the stoniest character will manage to resist tears.

The Imitation Game is filmmaking of the highest order and I cannot recommend it highly enough.

5 Stars

Philip Caveney

Cat on a Hot Tin Roof

Royal Exchange Theatre, Manchester

14/11/14

James Dacre’s production of Cat on a Hot Tin Roof is assured and confident, aided not inconsiderably by Mike Britton’s simultaneously stark and sumptuous set. The oppressive heat of the American Deep South is almost palpable, despite the cold reality of a November evening in Manchester. The lazy whirring of the inevitable ceiling fans and the glare of imagined sunshine from the gloss-white floor combine to create a drunken, languorous atmosphere seething with repressed emotion: the calm that comes before the storm.

Last night’s performances were solid: if Marian Gale (as Maggie) took a while to settle into the rhythm of her desperate stream of words, she made up for it in later scenes, where the raw emotion of unrequited love was beautifully expressed. Big Mama (Kim Cresswell) was a suitably unpleasant recipient for Big Daddy (Daragh O’Malley)’s crass indifference; Matthew Douglas and Victoria Elliott, as Mae and Gooper, provided a welcome respite from the play’s essential brutality, with their obnoxious brood of no-neck singing brats (think Sound of Music without the heartwarming stuff). The scenes where Brick (Charles Aitkin) was lying on the floor at Big Daddy’s feet, helpless without either his literal or his alcoholic crutch, brought home the importance of Williams’s theme: if Brick’s love for Jack Skipper had been allowed to thrive in the open, how much less destructive for all concerned.

Cat on a Hot Tin Roof is undoubtedly a miserable play, with little in the way of relief, and this production was certainly not to everybody’s taste last night. Three people sitting behind us left during Act 1 (one of them actually exiting through the set) to go for a cigarette, although they (unlike the couple sitting next to us) did at least return for the second act. Still, somebody in the audience clearly liked it enough to start taking photographs towards the end; the flash was distracting for us in the audience; goodness knows how irritating it was for the actors trying to focus on their lines.

All in all, this was an interesting – if ultimately unexciting – production. A faithful representation of a strange and turbulent play.

3.2 stars

Susan Singfield

Jeeves and Wooster in Perfect Nonsense

8/11/14

The Lowry, Salford

A perfect antidote for the November ‘glums’, Jeeves and Wooster in Perfect Nonsense offered what amounted to a large helping of theatrical fluff. But what accomplished fluff! This superb three-hander, already a substantial hit in the West End, finished it’s run at the Lowry in great style. I’d love to tell you something about the plot but it’s pretty unfathomable – something to do with a silver plated cream jug, a marriage proposal and some hilarious shenanigans concerning a nine foot tall Hitler lookalike. (I think that about covers it). Needless to say, Wooster blunders throughout proceedings in the time-honoured tradition, Jeeves manages to say so much with the merest raising of an eyebrow and I think it’s fair to say that PG Wodehouse would have approved of this interpretation of his work.

The conceit here is that Bertie (James Lance in triumphantly oafish mode) elects to act out one of his recent japes for the audience’s delectation, aided and abetted by Jeeves (John Gordon Sinclair) who in his usual capable manner has arranged for certain ‘props’ to be available. All the other roles (and they are numerous) are enacted by Seppings (Robert Goodale) an elderly retainer charged with a series of lightning fast costume changes. Special mention must go to set and costume designer, Alice Power, who has created a proscenium set that incorporates a multitude of tricky concealed entrances and exits, which enable the action to scamper along at breakneck pace. Some of the reveals are so surprising that the audience couldn’t conceal their gasps of amazement!

The three players handled the piece with consummate panache and during one extended set piece, where Jeeves had to enact two separate characters simultaneously (one male, one female) my laughter threatened to turn to sheer hysteria. Suffice to say, this was triumphant clowning of the highest order. The hearty ovation from a delighted audience was well and truly earned.

4.6 stars

Philip Caveney

Interstellar

9/11/14

Some films arrive in the cinema burdened by the weight of unreasonable expectation and Interstellar is one such film. Probably the most anticipated release since Prometheus (and look what happened with that!), if we are to believe what we’re told, this film is destined to save the film industry itself because what the world needs now is a major blockbuster and this just might be it. The film takes on weighty themes like the demise of mankind, the exploration of space and some fairly ‘out there’ theories about black holes and the fifth dimension. If much of it feels like a homage to Kubrick’s 2001, that’s no bad thing. The good news is, that though not perfect, Christopher Nolan’s three hour epic manages to hold a viewer’s attention throughout and in two key set pieces racks up levels of almost unbearable suspense.

The world is going to hell in a handcart, mostly because it’s turning into one great big dustbowl. Crops are dying out and ex space explorer Cooper, (Matthew McConaughey) now a corn farmer, sees his livelihood slipping away. When his young daughter Murphy tells him that the bookcase in her bedroom is trying to communicate with her (stay with me) Cooper identifies an anomaly, one that leads him to a remote location, where NASA scientist, Professor Brand (Michael Caine) is preparing a secret space mission, which he hopes will find a way to save the world. He’s prepared to send his own daughter, (Anne Hathaway) as a member of the team and he wants Cooper to pilot the spaceship. But it will mean being parted from his children for many years, with no guarantee of survival…

It’s to the film’s credit, that it makes some fairly unlikely events seem believable, but much of the ‘science’ here is so mind-blowingly complicated, that characters often have to resort to sketching diagrams to ensure that the audience understands it better – and there’s a final M. Night Shymalan-style twist that will either have you starry-eyed with wonder or shouting ‘no way!’ at the screen. Whether Interstellar can save the film industry is debatable. What is for sure is that Nolan hasn’t lost his Midas touch when it comes to creating awe-inspiring cinema. The father-daughter relationship at the heart of this tale is a powerful hook and the cinematography and special effects sequences are often breath-taking. A palpable hit, methinks.

4.8 stars

Philip Caveney

The Two Faces of January

9/11/14

This labyrinthine thriller, based on a novel by Patricia Highsmith, treads similar ground to Anthony Minghella’s The Talented Mr Ripley – it has a stylish 60’s setting and takes place in a series of photogenic locations – Athens, Crete and Istanbul; but it isn’t remotely in the same league as Ripley. It’s nonetheless handsomely produced and well-acted and though it wasn’t strong enough to make much of an impression in the cinema, it’s certainly worth checking out on DVD.

Athens tour guide, Rydal (Oscar Isaac) finds himself drifting into the orbit of American couple, Colette and Chester MacFarland (Kirsten Dunst and Viggo Mortenson), only to discover that Chester is a notorious swindler, who owes money to people back in the states. When the couple are apprehended by a private detective, Chester accidentally kills him and the MacFarlands are obliged to go on the run. Rydal, unaware of the full story and strongly attracted to Colette agrees to help them, only to find himself implicated as an accomplice. From this point, a devious game of cross and double cross evolves…

Ripley, mainly because of a mesmeric performance by Matt Damon, managed to achieve the near impossible, making an audience root for a character who is, quite clearly, a worthless lying scumbag. None of the performers here manage to generate sufficient charisma to make us care about the outcome of the story and anelement suggesting that Rydal perceives Chester as some kind of father figure (his own father has recently died) isn’t really explored enough to convince.

This is a decent movie, that entertains throughout but lacks the extra factor that would have made it a great one.

3. 6 stars

Philip Caveney

Mr Turner

7/11/14

Mr Turner is that rarest of things, a resounding art house success. Judging by the ‘bums on seats ratio’ at my local Cineworld, Mike Leigh has succeeded beyond all reasonable expectation with this biopic of the great artist, Joseph Mallard Turner. It’s a difficult movie, one that obeys few of the rules you’d expect to find in a recent cinematic success – there are no car chases, superheroes or heads exploding in slow motion. But it’s also a richly rewarding experience and one that takes its own sweet time to convey its central message – that great artists exist outside of everyday conventions. For the first time since Topsy Turvy (his impressive biopic of Gilbert and Sullivan), Leigh has eschewed the contemporary ‘talking heads’ routine that is his trademark, to give us a historical piece where he’s employed the canny use of CGI to convey the intrinsic moods of some of the artist’s best-known work.

In the title role, Timothy Spall is simply quite extraordinary. He gives us a grunting, gurning turnip of a hero, a (probably autistic) painter who is hopeless at small talk and who treats the other people who drift into his world as little more than contemptible. We witness his deplorable relationship with Hannah Danby (Dorothy Atkinson), the niece of the woman who bore him two (unacknowledged) children but, nevertheless, a subject of brutal sexuality. We see his idolisation of his father, William (Paul Jesson) and his secretive relationship with Margate landlady Mrs Booth (Marion Bailey), where he finally found true happiness.

The film observes few of the accepted tropes of cinema. There’s no real story arc here, just a series of vignettes, illustrating Turner’s world, his relationships with those around him and his often stormy association with the Royal Academy. But throughout, there is stunning cinematography (by Dick Pope) that eerily recreates some of the man’s finest paintings; there’s dry humour -particularly in the scenes with Ruskin (John McGuire), which serve to accentuate Turner’s lifelong hatred of critics, and there’s the stunning scene where Turner turns down the offer of £100,000 for his complete works from a rich benefactor, insisting that he wants to bequeath his paintings to ‘the nation.’

Mike Leigh is, quite simply, an anomaly. In an age where cinema is increasingly ruled by those who seek to champion the everyday, he is, quite simply, a national treasure, a man who ploughs his own furrow and does so on his own terms. Mr Turner will either leave you cold or cut you to the marrow. I’m happy to say that I belong to the latter category.

4.7 stars

Philip Caveney

Pompeii

7/11/14

Paul WS Anderson’s sword and sandal epic came in for a thorough critical pasting on its cinematic release, but on DVD at least, it’s a bit of a guilty pleasure in its galumphing, Sunday afternoon telly-ish sort of way. I’m sure that many liberties have been taken with historical detail and it’s so evidently a Gladiator-lite remake it almost hurts, but nevertheless the narrative carried me through to the explosive conclusion.

Events start back in Roman-occupied Britannia where a young boy, Milo, watches his family summarily slaughtered by Roman centurion, Corvus (Keifer Sutherland.) Within a few minutes of screen time, Milo has grown into Kit Harington, a fearsome gladiator known simply as ‘The Celt.’ Able to dispatch a whole army of opponents in curiously bloodless fashion (Anderson clearly chasing the PG13 certificate) Milo must be the most politely spoken barbarian in history but to make up for the deficiency, he sports a six pack you could break coconuts on. Milo’s abilities in the arena get him chosen to complete in the city of Pompeii and en route, he bumps into Cassia (Emily Browning) who is clearly impressed by his horse-whispering skills (and no doubt the afore-mentioned six pack.) Milo arrives at the arena where he is destined to fight the Emperor’s champion, Atticus (Adewale Akinnuoye-Agbaje.) When Corvus, now a powerful senator arrives on the scene, with his sights well and truly fixed on Cassia, Milo spots an opportunity to avenge himself for the loss of his parents. But ominous rumbles are beginning to issue from the direction of Vesuvius…

The special effect maelstrom that’s subsequently unleashed is (on the small screen at least) pretty impressive, while the human characters run around doing their best to make an impression amidst the carnage. Sutherland chews the scenery in entertaining style as Corvus, complete with creepy English accent, but it’s sad to see somebody of the stature of Carrie Anne Moss relegated to the thankless role of Cassia’s mum, with little to say and even less to do. Obviously, history has long ago established that this isn’t going to end well for any of the characters so those hoping for an uplifting finale will be disappointed, but for those seeking diversion, this film passes 105 minutes in agreeable enough style.

3.5 stars

Philip Caveney

Nightcrawler

2/11/14

A nightcrawler is not, as you might suppose, a lower form of verminous insect that comes creeping up through the cracks in the floorboards after you turn the light out. It’s a term for those members of the paparazzi who drive around LA in the small hours of the morning, listening intently to police band radio in the hope of finding some horrible disaster that they can film and then sell the footage to one of the many independent TV news stations that flourish in the area. So, the two things are pretty much in the same arena as far as appeal goes.

Lou Bloom (Jake Gyllenhaal) is a mildly-spoken loner who spends his time trolling the streets, stealing scrap to sell to unscrupulous dealers, someone who thinks nothing of clubbing a security guard unconscious in order to avail himself of the man’s watch. When he chances upon a car crash, he sees Joe Loder (Bill Paxton) a dedicated nightcrawler, filming the carnage. ‘If it bleeds, it leads,’ announced Loder, gleefully. When Lou subsequently overhears him making a deal to sell the resulting footage to a TV station, he thinks he’s found a new career, so much so that he hires a down-and-out called Rick (Riz Ahmed) to be his ‘assistant.’ He then locates a willing buyer for his ‘art’ in the form of Nina (Rene Russo) a TV news producer who is happy to accommodate his grisly footage and doesn’t ask too many questions about how he came by it. Then Lou becomes obsessed with getting to accident scenes before the police arrive…

Dan Gilroy’s directorial debut is a mesmerising tale of darkness and dismay, in which the only honourable characters are sidelined in favour of the kind of grotesque, venal scum that seem to be completely unhindered by any degree of humanity. Gyllenhaal, in what must rank as a career best performance (and I’m including Donny Darko and Brokeback Mountain here) somehow manages to transform himself from handsome young lead to malevolent creep, simply by losing a few pounds and slicking down his hair. Bloom is a magnificently repellant character, someone who talks in self-help video cliches, somebody who smiles sweetly but harbours, beneath his calm exterior the cold reserve of a true sociopath. Gyllenhaal manages to achieve the impossible here; you will find yourself rooting for Lou even as he makes your skin crawl.

While we’re handing out the accolades, it’s great to see Rene Russo eschewing her usual lightweight persona and firing on all cylinders as the (almost) equally repellant Nina. When she defines her ideal film clip as ‘a white woman running down the street screaming with her throat cut’ you realise that she and Lou are simply made for each other.

Gilroy handles it all effortlessly. There’s not an ounce of dead weight here and in the last fifteen minutes, when he takes us into a lengthy car chase, I very nearly forgot to breathe. The amoral conclusion is as shocking as it is inevitable, but given the kind of characters on display here, it was never going to have a Mary Poppins conclusion. Don’t miss Nightcrawler. It’s unlikely you’ll see a better film this year.

5 stars

Philip Caveney

Wither

28/10/14

Question; what would the Evil Dead look like if filmed by Swedes? Answer: Wither. But you have to imagine the Evil Dead completely stripped of wit, logic and storyline. (Not that the original had an awful lot of the latter, but Wither makes it look like the complete works of Shakespeare by comparison.) The film’s premise will be familiar to anyone who’s ever watched a horror movie. An assorted bunch of teenagers set out to spend the weekend in an abandoned house in the woods (as you do). They are led by squeaky-clean young couple Albin (Patrick Almkvist) and Ida (Lisa Henni) who spend a lot of time snogging, even in the midst of a raging bloodbath. They’re so annoying you start to hope that something bad will happen to them soon, but annoyingly they last longer than most of their companions.

Everyone settles in to the weekend vacation spot. Luckily, Albin’s Dad is an electrician and has arranged for a supply of juice to be sent to the house (some accomplishment considering he never actually visits the place.) Unlike virtuous Albin and Ida, the other kids, being Swedish, are even more obsessed with copping off with one another, than their American cousins. Within minutes of arrival, people are energetically humping, something that they will pay dearly for, later on.

Now, I know that in these films you are required to stretch your credibility a bit, but these kids keep doing things that nobody in their right mind would EVER do. Repeatedly. Hmm, a trapdoor leading down into a dark cellar? Think I’ll go and investigate. Oh, my friends are turning into monsters all around me, should I run away? Hmm, no it’s raining, I don’t want to get wet. Oh, my companion has turned into a monster and I’ve had to kill her. I’d better spend a very long time digging a grave for her. OK, now I’ve phoned for the police and they’ve told me to meet them out by our cars. But… it’s still raining, so let’s stay in the cabin. Sheesh! (The Swedish police, by the way, should probably sue the film makers for slurring their reputation. Though summoned by phone, quite early in the proceedings and informed that people are being killed, they fail to show up at any point.)

There are some decent special makeup effects here (the movie earns its 18 certificate) but directors, Sonny Laguna and Tommy Wiklund are rather too fond of the depiction of women being mercilessly beaten by men, for comfort. I know people are turning into demons, but it never seems to happen the other way around and some of these scenes are prolonged and feel unpleasantly prurient. Ultimately, Wither is just a thinly veiled excuse to unleash a string of decapitations, amputations and beatings. Most of the budget must have gone on Kensington (or should that be Karlstad?) Gore, with which the weekend retreat is soon liberally redecorated. It’s pretty poor stuff, only to be approached with extreme caution.

1 star

Philip Caveney

Bouquets & Brickbats

Theatre – Film – Comedy – Food

The Drop

The Imitation Game

Cat on a Hot Tin Roof

Jeeves and Wooster in Perfect Nonsense

Interstellar

The Two Faces of January

Mr Turner

Pompeii

Nightcrawler

Wither