Cinema Without Borders Blogs

My lovely Horse, running through the fields…

War Horse tells the tale Albie, a modest stable boy from a struggling rural family whose father takes a chance on a spirited young foal to change the fortunes of their failing farm. Albie forms a bond with the horse, Joey, but before long the pair are separated by the outbreak of World War One. As Joey is sold off to the army and sent away to France, Albie finds himself not far behind, being recruited to fight in the trenches in Germany.

War Horse is Steven Spielberg at his finest. With Tin-Tin it seemed he was so swept up with new technologies and an Indiana Jones style adventure, that the character himself seems too bland to connect to. War Horse sees Spielberg combine the same kind of emotional warmth from ET with the horror of war we see in Saving Private Ryan. It’s a whopping 2 and a half hours long, but that length is justified in him setting up the friendship between boy and horse and getting us to invest in their bond. The second act focuses more so on Joey, and his travels between a nervous Army General to a pair of frightened German soldiers to an enchanting young French girl and her protective Grand Father. Each all recognise the specialness of Joey, and each have a tragic tale of their own that transpires with him. When Albie reappears in the trench that’s when the film takes on a different tone, we see the inescapable horrors of war, and the infinite sadness that such atrocities bring about on both sides. The fear and anxieties of the young men is palpable, and all lead to a very emotional pay off.

War Horse is at times overly sentimental, and weepy moments litter this film like teary landmines. But if you give in to its intentions then it becomes a hugely rewarding cinema experience. Like Scorses’s Hugo, there is a sense of mastery and wonder weaved through each scene, and the bond between Joey and Albie drives this film forward, allowing us to get swept up in their experience. I swore I would resist crying at a film about the love between a boy and horse, but by the end it’s nigh on impossible to avoid. It’s terrific, joyous film making, cinema at its finest.

Finchers Re-inked rethink…

A shamed journalist is hired by a wealthy magnate to solve a 40 year old mystery surrounding his missing Grand Daughter. To help him, he recruits a lone woman, an investigative reporter with a tragic and dark back story. Together they get more than they bargain for when their digging around turns deadly.

There is a distinct sense of oddness in watching this film having already seen the pretty fantastic original Swedish version. It’s made all the more odd by the fact it’s also set in Sweden, with everyone but it’s lead (Daniel Craig) adopting Swedish accents. Keeping so strikingly close to the original in its settings and themes, this could have quite easily become an exercise in pointlessness. However with David Fincher at the helm this remake has just enough flavour to set it apart. His distinctive style of filming, and his trademark colour schemes help elevate this film, and even at parts out strip the original. He boldly doesn’t side step the unflinching violence of the original, and does his best to put his own stamp on the harrowing events.

Fincher also has the good sense to have the same team from The Social Network compose the score which adds buckets to the intensity, mystery and tension. He also utilises a thundering opening credit sequence that’s part music video, part Bond-esque title sequence, part techo, S&M silver paint drenched nightmare. It was so mind blowingly stunning I almost applauded when it climaxed.

The biggest comparison that needs to be made is between Noomi Rapace’s and Rooney Mara’s portrayal as the illustrious outsider, Elisabeth Salander.  Rapace, for me, wins hands down. That is no slight on Mara though, who goes that extra mile to push out a suitably twisted performance. It just seems in the remake Salander  is perhaps too vocal, less relatable, and more sociopathic. At one point she wears a T-shirt that reads ‘Fuck you, you fucking fuck’, whilst at another she screams of how crazy she is. It lacks the subtle creepiness of the first one by being a little bit too much on the (pierced) nose.

On exiting the cinema, I was in two minds about how I felt. I think in actuality I would have loved to have seen a mash up of both films, with the original cast, scenery and Swedish language, but directed by Fincher (but with ending of the original, because Fincher fudged the pay off and conclusion). Still a hugely enjoyable, shockingly violent affair.

Documentary made from stock footage and interviews about the rise and death of Formula One champion Ayrton Senna.

I had initially avoided this film because Formula One holds absolutely no appeal to me, I figured it would only be of interest to the fans of Top Gear and Sunday afternoon Grand Prix lovers. However you don’t need to know a single thing about race car driving to enjoy this film. Senna is such a charming, ambitious and relatable person that this film is much more about him and his life than it is about racing.

Through it we learn of his intial interest in the sport, his early beginnings and how his signature style got him noticed. Through him we learn about the politics of Formula One, the money and sponsors involved and the rivalry that built up between him and fellow team mate Alain Proust. It’s more so a documentary about passion and ambition. I found it very informative, educational, exciting and ultimately saddening. It’s well worth a watch for everyone.

 Sex and the City 3…

Set in New York, Michael Fassbender plays a cool headed businessman consumed by sex addiction. An unscheduled visit by his flaky and vulnerable sister leads him to face up to his demons.

Upon viewing I was left cold by this film, its stark visuals, lack of dialogue and abundance of sex just by passed me. Fassbender’s character was not someone to whom I could relate to, and admittedly I dismissed this film too readily as over hyped arty crap. I just plain did not get it. The point it was trying to make simply didn’t click with me. But strangely throughout the week my mind kept pondering about it, flashing up key scenes and moments. The aftertaste of it seemed to intrigue me more than the viewing itself.

It was the intense silence and darkness of New York that had stuck with me. So often do we see the hustle and bustle of The City That Never Sleeps, its lights and its glamour, that to see it from another angle, makes it very impacting. Fassbender’s character is a broken human being, a victim of a culture that wants everything and wants it immediately. He’s merely been reduced to the most base and primal of urges, his constant and unyielding need for sexual contact. His jungle is New York by nightfall, away from the tourist images and scenes of sitcoms, his New York is a dark and seedy place, of subway journeys eying up potential prey. He lives an isolated life, shattered by his sister’s unwelcome arrival. It’s only after tragic circumstances that Fassbender’s character comes to realise the depth of his depravity and the extent of his despair.

This film has a very pertinent cultural commentary about the nature of Big City living and the anonymity it throws over people. It highlights how alienating and lonely the world can be and how in a world of Facebook and internet forums that people can stop genuinely connecting with one another or plain just forget how to. Arty and powerful stuff, with an awful lot of sex.

 How Mission Impossible 4 and Sherlock Holmes teamed up to show Transformers how it’s done…

Mission Impossible: Ghost Protocol.

Tom Cruise returns once again as Ethan Hunt, and after breaking out a Russian Prison in a barn storming opening sequence finds himself in the wrong place at the wrong time; outside the Kremlin just after it’s been blown up. Fearing that his team will be blamed for the attack, they go off radar and attempt to find the real culprits.

This franchise hasn’t so far carved out a distinctive enough niche to be as popular as say Bond or Bourne, but this film helps it find its feet as being more fun and frantic, more so along the lines of Salt. It bolts from one large set piece to another, with plenty of actions and gadgets to keep it riveting. It was one of the best all out action films I’ve seen at the cinema in a long time. From the fast paced prison break out, to a stunt heavy sequence on a very tall building in Dubai, the action (and humour in the form of Simon Pegg) comes thick and fast. The story is a little preposterous and achingly simple (catch put big bad Russian no gooder from blowing up the world) but for a Friday night popcorn film it is bang on the money.

Big, stunt filled, action crammed dumbness. Pretty good popcorn Action Blockbuster.

Sherlock Holmes: A Game of Shadows

Not quite as delicious as the BBC’s modern Day adaptation, this Guy Richie lead franchise has more than enough character and charm to hold its head high. Robert Downey Jr returns once again as the borderline crazy private investigator and Jude Law as his put upon sidekick Watson. This time they most pit their heads against Holmes arch nemesis Moriarty. Much similar to the first in tone and humour, Downey Jr and Law bounce off one another with enough fun and good will that the whole film zips along nicely. It’s clear that Downey Jr relishes his role as the crazed detective with an oversized ego and equally bad attitude to boot, and it’s a pleasure to watch (much similar to when Johnny Depp is on top form as Jack Sparrow). The story gets a touch convoluted but it’s entirely forgivable amidst all the adventure and fun. I particularly enjoyed the raid on the train scene in which a dragged up Holmes hijacks Watson’s honeymoon to save him from a group of assassins.

Fast paced and fun, just the way a blockbuster should be.

Silence is Golden? Can barely hear a thing over all the hype…

A film set during the declining years of silent cinema, in which huge star George Valentin develops a fondness for rising beauty Peppy. However when the talkies takeover, so does Peppy’s fame, eclipsing poor George who finds himself, his art form and his love, destined for the scrap heap.

It’s easy to see why critics have gone bonkers for The Artist. In a time when output seems to be saturated in special effects, big stars and most detested of all, 3D films, a silent black and white film whose biggest name is John Goodman is so refreshingly retro and ingenuously simple that it’s hard not to be swept away in its charms. Furthermore, its structure is solid and its lead has bags full of character. And perhaps to put the cherry on top, it even has a cute stunt performing dog.

However I can’t get past the fact that the films greatest appeal is its novelty, and as bold a move as it is to release a black and white silent film in this day and age, this film is merely a tribute to an era gone by. Yes it has nailed the tone, the techniques, the lighting and the settings, but at the end of the day it’s still a tribute. It’s the Michael Buble of films; an accurate do up of old shtick, which as pleasant as it is, wouldn’t you just rather watch an actual old black and white film from the 1920’s?

By all means go and see this film, be amused by its novelty, in awe of its accuracy and charmed by the chemistry of its leads. There is no denying this made a truly unique cinema experience. But know it’s riding on a wave of hype inspired by the boredom of critics fed up with the run of the mill output of modern times. It’s a weirdly likeable, nostalgia trip but in my opinion nothing that truly groundbreaking.

Memoirs of a Milk Snatcher… troubling film tries to spin contested Tory to Glory.

It seemed inevitable that at some point someone would attempt to make a film exploring the life of one of the 20^th Centuries most memorable and controversial characters, it’s just a shame that this particular film is far too sugary and one sided. For although Mrs Thatcher vacated Number Ten some 22 years ago, this film still seems too soon, and too eager to portray Mrs Thatcher in nothing but a good light. Feelings about ‘that woman’ (as my mother refers to her) still remain raw and increasingly bitter. In fact the further north you travel in the UK, feelings about this film will grow ever more resentful. For the truth is, for many ‘that Woman’ looms over British culture like a real life voldermort, someone whose name is met with an expression of disdain and repulsion. I was born in the midst of the Thatcher Government, and for the first 6 years of my life The Iron Lady ran the country in her own distinct manner. And although I was very young, I still have memories of my parents cursing at the television, and placards in the main street in protest of the abhorrent Poll Tax. This film in some respects feels like the repackaging of a monster as a martyr, an attempt I’m sure in some opinions as trying to humanise the devil. It’s almost nigh on impossible not to take your own personal opinions about her into the cinema with you, and even more unlikely you’ll swallow some of the tripe on the screen.

So The Iron Lady is a biopic of Margaret Thatcher, first female Prime Minister of Great Britain and Ireland, and the longest serving Prime Minister of the 20^th Century. Starting with her life as she is now (a strong willed 80-something old battle axe battling with dementia and grief) the film through flashbacks tells her story from childhood through to her reign in power. All the while the modern day Maggie is trying to keep a grip of her own sanity, constantly plagued by hallucinations of her deceased husband Dennis, she lives in fear of losing her marbles altogether. We see her difficult rise through The Party and how her gender hindered her yet inspired her to push on. We see her deliberations over the Falklands War, are reminded of the turbulent times with the IRA, and her eventual downfall in politics.

The biggest bug bear with this film is that it is stingingly manipulative and shockingly one sided, it attempts to paint Mrs Thatcher as an unflinching warrior, going with her instinct and knowing what’s best, whilst contrasting her work with her home life, where she is pictured as a loving mother and a doting wife. Far too little is made of Thatcherism and it impact on Britain. Ask anyone where I come from what Margaret Thatcher is remembered for and they will likely reply taxes, privatisation, greed, the Falklands War and milk snatching (she infamously ended the free milk for school children programme, which only helped solidify her already vilified reputation). Too much is made of her as a vulnerable dithering old lady, attempting to wring every drop of sympathy from us by exploiting her dementia. And just on that note, making a film about someone and their declining health whilst they are still alive is in my opinion, in screamingly bad taste. It would appear thought that those in charge of Thatcher’s estate clearly gave the green light for this ‘legacy’ carving exercise in spin and schmaltz in an attempt to lament this significant figure and attempt to secure some over blown state funeral for when the time comes. A significant character in history she may be, but not necessarily one to be celebrated.

Hats off to Meryl Streep though, who turns in a blindingly good performance that makes this a film worth watching. She nails the voice and the look, and although the plot attempts to hoodwink us into siding with Maggie, Meryl is game to put her all into capturing The Iron Ladies strong willed belligerence.  Equal mention must go to Olivia Coleman, whose portrayal of Carol Thatcher (Margaret’s daughter, best known in the UK as a reality tv star) is charmingly spot on.

It’s a film I’d recommend everyone to see, but be warned before viewing, this bias and potentially offensive story does its utmost to spin Margaret Thatcher as hero, as someone who stood by their ethics and never backed down. Far too little is made of the consequences of her rulings, and the backlash against her is quickly swept under the carpet. It did nothing to change my opinion on the woman, and hopefully it will not fool others into believing she was anything less than a heartless harridan. An interesting film that borders on Thatcher loving propaganda or at least a retouching of history. It’s clear hope is to do to for Maggie what Dame Helen Mirren did for The Queen. Peppered with factual events, but polluted by touchy feely nonsense to make a very cold character seem not only palatable, but iconic. Careful you don’t fall for such trickery…

An early Christmas present…

Hugo is an orphaned boy living in the hidden spaces of Paris’s Gard De Nord train station, spending his days keeping the clocks running, thieving from a toy stall and trying to avoid the pompous guard keen to send him off to the orphanage. Puzzled by an old automaton his late father left him, Hugo has a chance encounter with a book smart girl and together they set out to solve the machines mystery.

Stunningly made and lovingly told, it’s difficult not to get swept up in the magic of this film. When the story gets going though it’s fair to say it transgresses the title of ‘kids’ film (it may well go clean over the kiddiewinks heads), becoming more a film that will be enjoyed, appreciated and perhaps beloved by adults who are kids at heart. It has adventure and intrigue, heart and brains. Scorsese’s love of early cinema really shines through, and the 3D really adds to the wonder piled on every snowy scene. The station itself is marvellous in its detail and grandeur and a particular nod must go to Sacha Baron Cohen’s puffed up policeman character who comically pursues Hugo endlessly.

Whimsical and endearing, enchanting and humorous, this beautifully crafted adventure is the must see of the Christmas season.  It certainly put a smile on this big kids face, and I spring in my step as I bound through a snowstorm out of the cinema and all the way home.

Laughkemia…

Joseph Gordon Levitt plays a late twenties radio producer going about a perfectly normal life when his world is rocked by the news that he has a rare form of cancer. The film charts his battle with the disease and the reactions of those around him, from stoner friend Seth Rogen, shell shocked girlfriend Bryce Dallas Howard and new psychologist Anna Kendrick.

Everyone is familiar with the chilling statistics about cancer, yet even with the phrase ‘1 in 3’ engrained in us, there is still something that makes me think it’s something that will never affect me. It’s something that happens to other people. Older people. But the truth is cancer is indiscriminate in its devastation and no one is off limits. So its films like these that really ram home a particularly frightening truth.  But the real genius of this film lies with its cast, who make it believable, funny and touching. It plays upon the taboos around cancer and questions dynamics between family friends and lovers. So far from run of the mill weepie, this film has wit and a point (unlike a certain Kate Hudson film I recently dredged through).

It may have Seth Rogen in it, but don’t expect Knocked Up or Superbad level of laughter or crudeness, Joseph Gordon Levitt uses his easy going likeable persona to give this film a solid foundation with heart, being entirely relatable throughout. There are really great funny moments, but they are dry and work fantastic in the context. There is a lesson to be learned in this ‘buddy film with bone cancer’ story, and although Levitt is the lead, it’s Rogen who goes through a transformation.

There are of course moments of sadness too. It was in fact Angelica Houston’s performance as over bearing but frightened mother that made me well up (you’ll know the scene when it happens). But all in it’s a really, dare I say, lovely sweet film. The chemistry between Levitt and Anna Kendrick (another great actress who deserves a breakout film) is endearing. I’m looking forward to seeing it again, which is a clear indication that’s it’s one the years finest offering.

Marilyn and Me…

This film is the true account of a young man (Eddie Redmayne, earthy good looks, like a handsome Dean Gaffney) who finds himself a position as a runner on the film set of The Prince and The Showgirl, a bumbling rom com based around the pairing of Sir Laurence Olivier (Kenneth Branagh on fine form) and Marilyn Monroe (Michelle Williams). He then discovers himself in the eye of the storm as Miss Monroe’s crazy life whirlwinds all over the production, and he gets a glimpse at the girl behind the glamour.

This narrative of this film is truly overshadowed by Michelle Williams’s towering performance as the late Marilyn Monroe. From her first appearance on screen she captures all of the mystery, sexiness and glamour that propelled her into becoming an icon. However away from the adoring press, she plays Monroe with an endearing vulnerability and fragility, an icon carried away on hype but plagued by issues of self worth. Surrounding herself with what we would now refer to as an entourage ( including a life coach), she ruffles the feathers of Sir Laurence by continually fluffing lines and waltzing off set. Her aspirations to be a great actress and worthy of her fame are constantly crippled by her fear that she is a hack and fraud. Branagh also shines as the enraged Olivier, regularly bursting into fits over Marilyn’s lost little girl behaviour and diva like no shows.

Williams gradually opens up to the young Redmayne, and the pair share a brief dalliance, showing her charm and intelligence as well as her destructive spontaneity and dependence on others and drugs. She simply disappears into the role of Marilyn, someone electric to watch and yet endearingly damaged. It feels more like the real deal than just an impersonation.

It’s a film about the trappings of fame, first crushes and pursuit of self love. A good watch heightened by a stunning and exquisite performance.