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Posts from the ‘Film Reviews’ category

There’s a scene in Faces, Places, the new documentary film Agnès Varda has made in collaboration with photographer and mural artist JR, in which this ostensibly odd couple – a 65-year age gap exists between them – chat with a group of male French dock workers. It won’t come as a surprise to anyone familiar with Varda’s work that she instinctively asks the men if she can meet their wives, and before long the two artists are introduced to the three relevant women, two of whom – like their husbands – work on the docks.

The basic premise of the film is that Varda and JR travel around France meeting people (generally those who live and/or work in rural or smaller communities), before taking their pictures and then printing large images that are subsequently flyposted onto buildings or large objects. Having met the three women, and feeling suitably inspired by them, Varda and JR ask them to pose for portraits and then decide to plaster the larger-than-life pictures onto a huge stack of cargo containers, with the women themselves eventually emerging from behind the doors of container stacked high at the very top. It’s an extremely powerful visual statement – made in conjunction with a small group of people who appear to work for JR – in a film that’s littered with them, and yet it’s also completely indicative of the film’s humanism, the makers’ genuine interest in ordinary working class people and the rather likeable way that they are lionised in ways that also brings attention to their surroundings and the histories of certain places.

For most of the film Varda and JR travel around in his van, which has a large-scale printer adapted to fit in the back. They meet farmers, people from former mining communities, retirees and young children along the way. As they do, the documentary slowly evolves into a work that’s also about the power of images, as well as society, the influence of political decisions taken elsewhere, mortality and the act of seeing. One thread that’s weaved throughout pertains to Varda’s deteriorating eyesight, while in another Varda regularly chastises the younger man for his desire to ‘hide’ behind his sunglasses at all times, something that occasionally causes a small degree of friction between the two. (JR, like the English artist Banksy, places much value on his own anonymity.)

Despite the odd minor clash between Varda and JR – she quickly puts him in his place when he patronises her – Faces, Places is very much a feelgood film: the two artists make for an extremely sympathetic, likeable duo, and the obvious differences between them – age, height, etc – soon become irrelevant in the face of their shared respect for and interest in others. As well as their time together talking to people – which sometimes recalls Varda’s earlier The Gleaners & I – we’re treated to lots of footage of the pair travelling together, hanging out in Paris and even dashing across the Louvre in a light-hearted homage to Jean-Luc Godard’s Bande à Part.

It comes as a surprise, then, when Godard himself casts a rather unfortunate shadow on the film late on. JR arranges a surprise visit to the house of the notoriously reclusive director, who was one of Varda’s New Wave colleagues and someone who she considers a long-term friend, even though she hasn’t seen him in years, but the meeting and the trip becomes something of a non-event — grinding uncomfortably to a halt as a result of what appears to be mean-spirited pettiness on the part of Godard, perhaps driven by a rather unfortunate mixture of insecurity and thoughtlessness. Given what we’ve seen before it seems like a particularly cruel act to reduce Varda to tears, but her positive, forward-thinking outlook is irrepressible, and the male director’s actions ultimately seem like an irrelevance as she figuratively picks herself up, dusts herself down and gets on with her life. The simple fact is that nobody can stop the positivity that radiates from Varda and from this wonderful film, surely one of 2018’s finest. (4.5/5)

Clearly the best action film that has been released so far during 2018, this latest franchise entry delivers plenty of the high-octane thrills that have become synonymous with the series, particularly during recent years. There’s a quite thrilling, brutally bone-crunching fist fight that takes place in a bathroom, for example, involving Tom Cruise’s familiar IMF agent Ethan Hunt, Henry Cavill’s CIA assassin August Walker and a man who may or may not be an international terrorist called Lark, with all the shots of bodies slamming into washbasins and through walls that have become de rigeur post-Bourne. There are also speedy, exciting vehicle and foot chases through the streets of central Paris and London, with the requisite number of landmarks incorporated into the sequences’ establishing shots. And the finale – though marred a little by the awful expository dialogue that precedes it, which all of the actors involved seem a tad embarrassed by – is staged very well, particularly with regard to the helicopter chase that was teased in the trailer.

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Simon Pegg and Henry Cavill

This ending is also indicative of Mission: Impossible – Fallout’s laziness, though, perhaps epitomised by the use of such cliches as characters grimacing as they tensely cut the red wire on the left-hand side of a bomb’s interior (WAIT…OR IS IT THE GREEN WIRE ON THE RIGHT, ETC ETC?!!), figures dangling off incredibly high ledges or ropes and timers slowly ticking down to zero. These tired action movie tropes have long been ditched by more inventive, thoughtful writers and directors, and it’s a little dismaying to see them employed yet again within this film, when the marketing tends to proudly push the line that its stunts are next-level and its characters are presented as sprightly and able to think outside of the box in order to outfox the enemy. Allayed to this there’s a nagging sense that even the actors are a little bit bored by it all, performing in variations on scenes that they’ve already appeared in numerous times before (particularly with regard to Cruise, Ving Rhames and Simon Pegg, all veterans of this series). When one character is hoodwinked by Hunt’s team’s misdirection early in the film, for example, and another subsequently falls for a switcheroo involving one of those rubber face masks that seemingly come out of nowhere in these films (because… someone has a laptop handy), are there any audience members who feel the same level of surprise at having had the rug pulled from under their feet? Isn’t it time to move on from the kind of twists seen in Brian De Palma’s first entry in the franchise, and from the more novel ideas that were contained within David Koepp and Robert Towne’s Mission: Impossible movie screenplay?

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Vanessa Kirby

Supporting actors are game, but this is of course A Tom Cruise Film and as such the rest of the cast is marginalised, their characters unable to wallow in a sub plot or enjoy an independent thought of their own that isn’t somehow for Hunt’s benefit. Rebecca Ferguson’s assassin Ilsa was, for some, a breath of fresh air in previous entry Rogue Nation, but she takes a back seat here, appearing with impeccable timing whenever Hunt is in a bind and needs some help. She’s just another team member now, albeit a quasi-member for much of this story, and the actor is surely destined to go the same way as the likes of Emmanuelle Béart, Emilio Estevez, Jeremy Renner and various others have before; but maybe time will prove me wrong. Elsewhere, Sean Harris reprises his role as the big bad of the series, a puppet master of Very Bad Things who is all beard and gravel-voiced threats, while Vanessa Kirby smoulders unconvincingly as new character ‘The White Widow’, a wealthy, powerful broker of dodgy deals who would not be out of place in a Roger Moore-era Bond film. Pegg has already fully accepted his sidekick status, wisely, while Ving Rhames is also seemingly happy to continually play a character who was last given a bit of meaningful personality and a sense of his own life outside of service to Hunt and the IMF way back in 1996, a full five films ago.

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Rebecca Ferguson and Tom Cruise

There’s terrible dialogue here and lots of wooden acting – particularly during the opening, pre-credits scenes – but evidently people go and see these films to be wowed by stunts, and Fallout will not disappoint in this respect; they are very well-staged and each set piece is exciting and incredibly well-choreographed, especially when you consider how many vehicles are involved at times. Somehow the years do not seem to be catching up with Cruise, who yet again gives a solid impression of a man who happens to leap off buildings, kill people and stop nuclear weapons from being deployed almost as often as he eats cornflakes or takes a dump. It seems like there’s plenty left in the tank. (3/5)

Watched: 7 March

Endearing high school-set anime about a bully named Ishida who torments the new girl in his class, Nishimiya. She is ostracised on account of her deafness by other classmates, and the same children subsequently shun Ishida despite their part in the sorry affair. This contributes to Ishida’s low self-esteem, but he eventually learns the error of his ways and repents after Nishimiya exhibits constant kindness and warmth, so there’s a nice message here and there’s a certain softness to the way it’s all handled. There’s an interesting visual style going on, too, with crosses placed over the mouths of classmates Ishida has no relationship with, and director Naoko Yamada using close-ups of body parts (knees and calves mostly, which I guess could be some kind of fetishising but there may be another reason for it or cultural subtext that I’m unaware of). (***)

Watched: 6 March

Taking a cue from the silent ‘city symphony’ films of the 1920s, Alex Barrett’s document of modern London applies a rather old-fashioned style to the 21st century sights, despite being shot with digital cameras. It is filmed in black and white and is made up of four thematic ‘movements’, though these can be broken down into smaller groupings of related images or subjects, all of which is tastefully scored by James McWilliam. A large amount of footage has been carefully edited into a work that only just stretches beyond an hour, and the cinematography is fine, particularly with regard to the photography of buildings. It is evenly-paced, by which I mean the shots and the movements tend to be of roughly equal length; other viewers may feel that this is a good thing but I have a feeling I’d have enjoyed this even more had there been sudden Koyaanisqatsi-like bursts of speed and life and light and energy. Anyway, it’s certainly worth seeing if you like or live in London, or if you’d enjoy seeing a view of the city that eschews the more obvious views for sights that are likely to be missed by most eyes (including those of Londoners themselves). (**½)

Watched: 3 March

Sci-fi noir with a plodding, stultifying plot and an obvious visual debt to Blade Runner (so at least Mute looks good, with its teeming city streets drenched in neon, flying cars, etc). In all honesty there’s not much else worthy of note, except to say that old Merry Brandybuck has a stab at playing a Berlin-based robot-shagging South African future-geisha, so there’s that. It’s not really going too well for Duncan Jones at the moment, unfortunately. (*½)

Watched: 2 March

Another enjoyably low-key slice of Japanese family life from Hirokazu Koreeda, whose consistency and regularity of output means that he makes this kind of thing look easy (and also made me think that he is in danger of being taken for granted as a filmmaker until his recent Palme d’Or win at Cannes). The story here largely revolves around novelist-turned-private detective Ryota and the various relationships he has with his mother, sister, ex-wife and son, though arguably the key relationship hanging over the whole film is the one that existed between Ryota and his recently-deceased father. It mostly plays out within and around the old family home, occasionally venturing outside to unspectacular, everyday locations – though these are still somewhat intriguing to my foreign eyes – and any Koreeda watcher will know how adept he is at making films within such spaces, mostly focusing on his characters as they converse, sometimes while they carry out quotidian household tasks. There are good performances from Kore-eda regulars Hiroshi Abe, Yōko Maki and Kirin Kiki, though for some reason this didn’t grab me in the same way as the other Koreeda films I’ve seen (Still Walking, Our Little Sister, Like Father, Like Son). (***½)

Watched: 2 March

I’m glad that the cast and crew of Pitch Perfect got to make a follow-up; the first film was a feel-good treat, with Anna Kendrick and Rebel Wilson in particular managing to showcase their comic talents and deserving the chance to reprise their roles as the stars of college a capella singing group The Barden Bellas. However, there’s definitely a sense of second-film-syndrome hanging around this sophomore effort, which is a real shame. Jokes are repeated, there’s a half-arsed attempt to expand on the original by setting the plot within a world champtonship (as opposed to a national one) and the characters seem no different by the end of the film to the way they did at the start, as if they’ve become mere carriers of recognised catchphrases and little else. That said, those well-choreographed routines are still a lot of fun, and I like the way the naffness of a capella singing is still never challenged or acknowledged. (**)