Reviews | three rows back

Review – ’71

Posted on December 23, 2014 by Three Rows Back

The Troubles serve as a suitably murky backdrop to this taut and absorbing thriller that a young John Carpenter would be proud of.

One of the year's most suspensful thrillers, '71 is edge-of-the-seat stuff and another feather in the cap for its leading man

One of the year’s most suspenseful thrillers, ’71 is edge-of-the-seat stuff and another feather in the cap for its leading man

It’s been quite a year for Jack O’Connell, the rising star of the superb prison drama Starred Up and Angelina Jolie’s latest Unbroken.

What makes O’Connell stand out is the honesty of his performances and the physical and emotional spectrum he’s able to tap into. He brings that range to bear in his portrayal of Gary Hook, a recent army recruit whose regiment is shipped off to Belfast during the height of the Troubles – the political and sectarian conflict between Irish nationalists and unionists loyal to the Queen.

You’re in the army now: Soldier Gary Hook (Jack ‘O’Connell) in ’71

The regiment (and the viewer, of course) are reminded that, by being deployed to Northern Ireland, they “are not leaving this country”, but when they arrive and are sent to support the Royal Ulster Constabulary’s search for guns along the Falls Road – the fault line that largely separated unionists and nationalists – director Yann Demange potently illustrates just how far away from ‘home’ these young men suddenly feel.

Essentially thrown in at the deep end, their disorientation and fear spirals as they are confronted first by women banging dustbin lids on the ground (to warn fellow Republicans that British soldiers are approaching) and then by an increasingly angry mob. Hook gets cut off from his fellow soldiers when he’s sent after a boy who has snatched a rifle and, following the regiment’s hasty retreat, must fight for survival behind enemy lines.

I predict a riot: things turn ugly in ’71

And while the solider tries to evade capture by hiding out (and gets a lesson in soldiering from Richard Dormer’s kindly Eamon, who describes it as “posh c***s telling thick c***s to kill poor c***s”), he becomes a pawn in a larger game being played between senior IRA members and shadowy British operatives led by Sean Harris’ Captain Browning.

Escape from Belfast: Hook (Jack O’Connell) tries to think of a way out in ’71

The Troubles have inspired some absorbing cinema and ’71 can sit proudly alongside the likes of Alan Clarke’s Elephant (1989), Ken Loach’s Hidden Agenda (1990) and Paul Greengrass’ Bloody Sunday (2002).While not as overtly political as those films, Gregory Burke’s economical script doesn’t ignore it either, although the briefing to senior officers prior to all hell breaking loose does come across as a little too ‘are you paying attention?’.

The film is at its strongest when following the hapless Hook as he stumbles from one terrifying episode to the next. A heart-pounding cat and mouse chase between the fleeing soldier and two gun-toting young IRA members is brilliantly done, while an explosive scene in a pub and its nightmarish aftermath as Hook staggers through what resemble the streets of hell makes you question whether he’ll make it out of there.

Troubles, troubles: Life in Belfast circa ’71

Anthony Radcliffe’s immersive and atmospheric cinematography, the murky nighttime setting, David Holmes’ retro-inflected score and the questionable loyalties of its characters bring to mind Carpenter’s Assault On Precinct 13 (1976), while the against-the-odds battle to survive tips a wink to Escape From New York (1981); comparisons not made lightly, but ones that speak very highly of just how impressive ’71 is.

One of the year’s most suspenseful thrillers, ’71 is edge-of-the-seat stuff and another feather in the cap for its leading man.

Review – The Hobbit: The Battle Of The Five Armies

Posted on December 18, 2014 by Three Rows Back

As good a writer as JRR Tolkien was, he wouldn’t have got very far in Hollywood if his description of the epic battle of orcs, elves, dwarfs, men and anyone else lying around was anything to go by.

And so we come to the end of Jackson’s Middle Earth fellowship. LOTR-lite it may be, but fantasy cinema is all the richer for The Hobbit having been in it

Passed off by Tolkien in just a few words, Peter Jackson obviously had other ideas when imagining how he’d like to conclude his stint as Middle Earth’s resident director.

It’s a decision in keeping with the whole exercise of making three movies out of a 300-page book, which is ironic when you consider he originally envisaged making two films out of The Lord Of The Rings; a three-book saga spanning more than 1,000 pages.

The loyal band of dwarfs prepare for war in The Hobbit: The Battle Of The Five Armies

That said, Jackson has thrown everything and the kitchen sink into this final chapter of his prequel trilogy and, while there is much to enjoy, it won’t change anyone’s opinion that The Hobbit ultimately remains the poor cousin of LOTR.

We pick up where we left off last time, with the dragon Smaug (voiced by Benedict Cumberbatch) on his way from the Lonely Mountain to smite Laketown and its terrified folk. It’s a breathless opening salvo, arguably the best sequence in the entire trilogy as Bard (Luke Evans) desperately tries to bring the beast down as the town is incinerated around him.

Watching on helplessly are hobbit Bilbo Baggins (Martin Freeman) and his dwarf companions, led by Thorin Oakenshield (Richard Armitage), who disturbed Smaug’s slumber in search of untold wealth and the coveted Arkenstone, a precious gem Thorin is desperate to reclaim.

Gandalf (Ian McKellen) looks on worried in The Hobbit: The Battle Of The Five Armies

When word spreads of Smaug’s death, an elf army under Thranduil (Lee Pace) marches to the Lonely Mountain to reclaim lost treasure, while a separate force of orcs led by Azog the Defiler (Manu Bennett) also approaches. While all hell breaks loose outside the mountain, as men, dwarfs and elves go to war against the vast numbers of orcs, inside the mountain an increasingly unstable Thorin exasperates his fellow dwarfs and Bilbo by refusing to see sense.

Just as Jackson coiled the spring in the first half of The Return Of The King before unleashing CGI-infused mayhem, he employs a similar approach in The Battle Of The Five Armies. Characters look either pensive or defiant as they talk of impending war, while Jackson cranks up the expectation by regularly cutting to the orc hordes drawing ever nearer to the Lonely Mountain.

Azog the Defiler (Manu Bennett) looks his usual grumpy self in The Hobbit: The Battle Of The Five Armies

When it finally does come, the battle is everything you expect; brutal and frenzied, with seemingly endless waves of orcs pitted against the dwindling alliance. However, as visually impressive as it is, it doesn’t involve you as much as the epic battle of Helm’s Deep in The Two Towers.

The stakes may be just as high, but the clammy terror of a band of brothers fighting for their lives against an implacable army of Urak Hai is what sets Helm’s Deep apart. Too often, Jackson is content to pit CGI army against CGI army; an impressive enough site to be sure but one that will never grab you as much as seeing real people at each other’s throats.

Bilbo Baggins (Martin Freeman) and Thorin Oakenshield (Richard Armitage) look worried in The Hobbit: The Battle Of The Five Armies

While the skirmish is the film’s key selling point, it works best when boiling things down to the struggle going on inside Thorin’s mind. Overcome by ‘dragon sickness’, his slide into mental illness is convincingly played by Armitage, who shows enough of the old Thorin to convince Bilbo (a conversation between the two that starts with an acorn is a standout) and co that he’s not gone completely off the deep end. Jackson has brilliantly played up the possessive effects ‘precious’ treasure can have on otherwise strong-willed characters throughout his Middle Earth saga and the lightning bolt moment Thorin experiences during a surreal hallucination is particularly effective.

Freeman does his best with the limited screen time Bilbo is given and lights up every scene he’s in, but once the battle kicks in he’s pretty much sidelined in favour of head-butting dwarves and snarling orcs.

Legolas (Orlando Bloom) and fellow elf Tauriel (Evangeline Lilly) go in search of orcs in The Hobbit: The Battle Of The Five Armies

Also left on the sidelines is Ian McKellen’s Gandalf, whose rescue from the clutches of Sauron by his fellow White Council members (most notably Cate Blanchett’s luminous Galadriel) is an early highlight, but feels rushed (ironic, I know). Once Gandalf joins the party at the Lonely Mountain he soon gets swallowed up in the rest of the action.

And so we come to the end of Jackson’s Middle Earth fellowship. LOTR-lite it may be, but fantasy cinema is all the richer for The Hobbit having been in it.

In Retrospect – 2001: A Space Odyssey

Posted on December 13, 2014 by Three Rows Back

The year 1968 proved to be a particularly fertile one when it came to science fiction and apes.

A work of genius that will continue to enrapture us, 2001: A Space Odyssey remains one small step for Stanley Kubrick; one giant leap for cinema

Franklin J. Schaffner’s seminal Planet Of The Apes vividly brought Pierre Boule’s novel to the big screen and earned John Chambers a honourary Oscar for his incredible make-up effects.

Released in the US just days later, Stanley Kubrick’s 2001: A Space Odyssey missed out on a similar award, as popular myth would have it, because the Academy judges believed the apes featured in the film were real rather than men in suits.

The Dawn of Man. Apes discover a thirst for violence in 2001: A Space Odyssey

Whether true or not, it serves as a fitting metaphor for the beguiling nature of Kubrick’s remarkable masterpiece, which remains devilishly confounding and awe-inspiring more than four decades on.

It’s the film’s (and by extension Kubrick’s) refusal to kowtow to those who can’t abide a mystery that is a big reason why we keep revisiting 2001 time and again in the hope of cracking the enigma; all the while knowing that it is a fool’s errand.

Based on Arthur C. Clarke’s novella The Sentinel, 2001 posits the theory that mankind has been aided in its evolutionary journey by an almost infinitely superior alien intelligence, represented by imposing black monoliths. From imbuing early hominids with the transformative leap to discern that a bone can be used as both a tool and a weapon to claim territory from others and to kill, an identical monolith uncovered on the moon four million years later triggers mankind’s next step when it emanates a piercing radio signal towards Jupiter.

Dr Dave Bowman (Keir Dullea) stares into the void in 2001: A Space Odyssey

The Discovery spacecraft is sent to Jupiter to investigate the signal with a crew including Dr Dave Bowman (Keir Dullea), Dr Frank Poole (Gary Lockwood) and the ship’s computer HAL 9000 (voiced by Douglas Rain), but as they near the planet the mission comes under jeopardy and the next step in our evolution awaits.

While there had been science fiction films of a serious nature before, 2001 represented a unparalelled leap forward not only for the genre but for cinema itself. Simply put, no-one had seen anything like it before.

Although certain aspects of the film feel dated (Pan Am is no more of course, while Hardy Amies’ costume design for the stewardesses, for example, has that retro-future look which pegs it to the Sixties), it’s incredible just how much stands the test of time.

The unforgettable HAL 9000 (voiced by Douglas Rain) in 2001: A Space Odyssey

Ever a stickler for the smallest detail, Kubrick was insistent the spacecraft seen in the film should be grounded in science rather than fantasy. Life onboard the Discovery is shown to be routine despite characters seemingly bypassing the laws of physics by appearing at different angles in close proximity; a remarkable feat achieved through the use of an ingenious set built around a centrifuge.

Represented by a single red glowing light, the film’s most effective piece of design also happens to be its most brilliantly realised character. Kubrick is able to imply so much in HAL’s demeanor by clever editing and a subtle shift in camerawork, whether it be paranoia, threat or desperation; all intensified by Rain’s delivery. When HAL informs a TV interviewer that “no 9000 computer has ever made a mistake or distorted information. We are all, by any practical definition of the words, foolproof and incapable of error”, it’s akin to a character coughing and saying they’re alright before dropping dead 10 minutes later.

Staaaar-gaaaaate

Douglas Trumbull’s pioneering special effects still look good today and must have been mind-blowing at the time, which probably explains why Kubrick luxuriantly devotes whole sequences to space planes docking or arriving on the moon. It’s safe to say that no film today would get away with spending so much time on such things, but there’s a hypnotic quality to watching these scenes as Strauss’ Blue Danube Waltz washes over you.

The use of classical music is another of 2001‘s timeless qualities. Kubrick decided early on to strip the narrative and exposition back as much as possible (as opposed to modern day sci-fi films; I’m looking at you Interstellar), which puts more weight on the soundtrack’s shoulders. Older compositions sound like they’ve been written especially for the film, while György Ligeti’s eerily discordant works have a ghostly quality that creeps under the skin and lends its scenes an extra bite.

Little moments stay with you, such as when an ape casts a glance up to the moon the night before the monolith appears, foreshadowing what’s the come – so indelibly realised by the audacious match cut from the bone being tossed into the air to the space craft orbiting the Earth four million years later.

A rebirth of sorts in 2001: A Space Odyssey

So, what exactly are the monoliths? Some have said they represent God (the ape touching the monolith is reminiscent of Michelangelo’s famous painting The Creation of Adam). Perhaps it’s best not to think about it too much, though. If in doubt, take a stress pill and read Roger Ebert’s wry analysis.

There is a wonderfully elliptical nature to the film that’s almost as perfectly formed as the monoliths. Just as we start with the Dawn of Man, so too do we finish with another birth in the form of the iconic starchild. Four million years may have passed, but we are just like that early hominid, casting our eyes up to the sky in fear and wonder.

A work of genius that will continue to enrapture us, 2001: A Space Odyssey remains one small step for Stanley Kubrick; one giant leap for cinema.

Review – Whiplash

Posted on December 8, 2014 by Three Rows Back

If music be the food of great cinema, then Damien Chazelle’s note-perfect study of the human cost of aspiring to greatness is a rich feast indeed.

Whiplash is one of the discoveries of the year and should not be missed. Good job? Great job more like

Whiplash lives up to its name by snapping the viewer back and forth with an intensity as ferocious as J.K Simmons’ demonic black-clad conductor Terence Fletcher.

The crucible of sound and fury that is the Shaffer Conservatory music school makes Fame‘s Fiorello H. LaGuardia High School look like kindergarten, while the complex relationship between Fletcher and gifted jazz drummer student Andrew Neyman (Miles Teller) has the air of Frankenstein and his monster.

Andrew (Miles Teller) gets the first of many bollockings in Whiplash

Fletcher at one point states to Andrew: “There are no two words more harmful to the English language than ‘good job’.” Fletcher’s style of teaching (if that’s what you can call it) is to bully and excoriate those he deems worthy of interest in order to, so he claims, unlock the greatness within them.

His drill instructor approach terrifies many of the students in his elite class, but for Andrew it propels him to the next level and soon every waking moment is taken up with obsessively refining his talent in the hope of winning Fletcher’s approval.

Andrew (Miles Teller) gives it what for in Whiplash

The story behind how someone becomes great in their chosen field has long captivated filmmakers who, like most of us, have a morbid fascination with the price that is often paid to reach the very top. While we marvel at the skill they display and the accomplishments they make, the human cost can be terrible and it this we are drawn to.

One of the more striking examples in recent years was Darren Aronofsky’s superb Black Swan, in which Natalie Portman’s ballet dancer slowly loses her grip on reality as she strives for artistic perfection.

Andrew (Miles Teller) gets friendly with Nicole (Melissa Benoist) in Whiplash

Whiplash may not be as weirdly horrific as that movie, but it shines just a harsh a spotlight on its protagonist, whose growing arrogance and unhealthy determination to succeed at all costs make us question our sympathy for him at the hands of Fletcher.

The way he treats love interest Nicole (Melissa Benoist) is revealing, particularly during their first date when he reacts disdainfully to her admission that she doesn’t yet have her whole life mapped out in front of her. The same goes for his father (played by Paul Reiser), who is also a teacher but more of the ‘good job’ school. Andrew’s reaction to his dad during a dinner scene involving family friends is also telling in that it reflects the influence Fletcher is having.

Fletcher (J.K Simmons) opens up a can of whupass on Andrew (Miles Teller) in Whiplash

That said, there’s no denying the commitment Andrew has to his craft, especially in the film’s near-wordless final reel; a gladiatorial battle of wits between master and student that is one of the most electrifying and exhilarating scenes of the year. Some critics have accused it of being too manipulative, but it’s in keeping with the characters with whom we’ve spent the previous 90 minutes.

Blood, sweat and… drums in Whiplash

Teller treads a very fine line between unlikable and sympathetic and is utterly convincing behind the drums. For a movie such as this to work, you have to believe the actor is actually playing the instrument in question and in Teller’s case nary a shred of doubt exists.

As good as Teller is, however, Simmons is out of this world. It’s a part any seasoned actor would love to sink their teeth into, but Simmons makes it his own and imbues Fletcher with an unpredictability that’s frankly mesmirising.

Whiplash is one of the discoveries of the year and should not be missed. Good job? Great job more like.

Review – The Imitation Game

Posted on November 28, 2014 by Three Rows Back

It’s a fascinating, if troubling, thought to imagine how different the world would be without Professor Alan Turing having been in it.

The Imitation Game may not quite discover the unwritten code to great cinema, but it remains an engrossing account of a remarkable man’s world-changing accomplishments

Recounting a compliment given to him at school by his best friend Christopher, the person who would have the greatest impact on his life, Turing notes that “sometimes it is the people no one imagines anything of who do the things that no one can imagine”.

How true. Not only did Turing break Nazi Germany’s Enigma code, but the machine he created to achieve what had previously been thought impossible also unlocked the building blocks that ushered in the computer age.

Professor Alan Turing (Benedict Cumberbatch) with ‘Christopher’ in The Imitation Game

His reward for all this? Chemical castration at the hands of a British government that at the time regarded homosexuals like Turing as illegal deviants.

While Morten Tyldum’s fine adaptation of Andrew Hodges’ book Alan Turing: The Enigma dwells more on Turing the code breaker, his homosexuality isn’t swept under the carpet as some critics have unfairly judged. Rather, it chooses to define its central, enigmatic protagonist by the remarkable accomplishments he made first and his sexuality second.

Joan Clarke (Keira Knightley) gets ready for the adventure of a lifetime in The Imitation Game

Whether you agree with that approach or not shouldn’t detract from what is a taut and gripping thriller featuring yet another towering performance from Benedict Cumberbatch in the central role of the complex and difficult Turing.

One of the most interesting, and potentially controversial, aspects of The Imitation Game is its unspoken suggestion that Turing was possibly autistic. The difficulty he has in the film interacting with people, including fellow Bletchley Park code breakers Hugh Alexander (Matthew Goode), John Cairncross (Allen Leech) and Peter Hilton (Matthew Beard); his struggle to understand how others feel and think; and the trouble he has expressing his thoughts and feelings about anything except his beloved decryption machine seem to imply this, although we can never know for sure, of course.

Eureka! Alan Turing (Benedict Cumberbatch) is flanked by Joan Clarke (Keira Knightley), Peter Hilton (Matthew Beard), Hugh Alexander (Matthew Goode) and John Cairncross (Allen Leech) in The Imitation Game

The only real connection he makes, aside from school friend Christopher (Jack Bannon), is with Keira Knightley’s Joan Clarke, although even this bond is more intellectual than anything else. While Turing insists that Joan be given the chance to prove herself (to the frustration of some of his more sexist colleagues) his position isn’t dictated by seeking gender equality; rather he sees a person who can contribute towards realising his single-minded obsession to perfect the code-breaking device.

Tyldum does an effective job of wringing the tension out of the key moment when the breakthrough is made and we, as much as Turing and his team, suddenly comprehend the seismic impact of what they’ve achieved. This is then nicely undercut by the terrible realisation of what they must – and must not – do in order to maintain the illusion to the Germans that Enigma remains unbroken.

Alan Turing (Benedict Cumberbatch) gets on the wrong side of the military in The Imitation Game

The awful personal and professional burden of preserving secrets at all costs eats away at Turing, who ostracises himself so much from Joan and the others that the only person he can turn to is pragmatic MI6 operative Maj. Gen. Stewart Menzies (Mark Strong).

A cast studded with British thespian talent eats up the material, in particular Charles Dance as Turing’s brusque commanding officer Cdr. Alastair Denniston and Rory Kinnear as the detective who digs into Turing’s past after the war, only to realise too late what he’s done. Knightley holds her own in the film’s only major female part and imbues Joan with more than just plucky English stoicism; there’s a steeliness to her performance and a refreshing depth the actress hasn’t always plumbed.

Alan Turing (Benedict Cumberbatch butts heads with Cdr. Alastair Denniston (Charles Dance) while Maj. Gen. Stewart Menzies (Mark Strong) looks on in The Imitation Game

Alex Lawther gives a marvellous turn as the young Turing, an “odd duck” who betrays a gamut of emotions in a single glance towards fellow pupil Christopher – his is a name to watch out for in the future. Cumberbatch, meanwhile, does a superb job of showing just enough of the brilliant professor while still remaining an enigma.

The Imitation Game may not quite discover the unwritten code to great cinema, but it remains an engrossing account of a remarkable man’s world-changing accomplishments.

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