Category: Movie Reviews

The Wolf of Snow Hollow

Post author By Mark
Post date January 15, 2021

There’s not a whole lot of genuinely great werewolf films out there, think about it. The Howling, An American Werewolf in London, and maybe a handful of others at best. Which makes it such a big deal when a film like The Wolf of Snow Hollow comes along and vaults itself into the top of the genre with a wholly original spin on the cult favourite monster; a unique blend of horror, police procedural and black comedy from the mind of writer, director and star Jim Cummings. While its distinctive tone, which fluctuates between the serious case of a wolf preying on the people of Snow Hollow and the jarring yet hilarious meltdown of Cummings’ police deputy John, may not be for everyone, if you lean into the madness you will be rewarded with a hilarious, creepy and touching film that launches itself to the top of 2020’s considerable horror offerings and is primed for future cult classic status.

When a young woman is brutally murdered at an idyllic rental property in Utah’s Snow Hollow, the town’s deputy, John (Cummings), arrives late to the crime scene, having been notified midway through an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting. That addiction proves to be one of the least of John’s problems as he inspects the gruesomely disfigured body, while also juggling the care of his father Sheriff Hadley (Robert Forster) who stubbornly refuses to retire as he battles health scare after health scare, leaving John barely able to hold it together to manage his staff. Promising his ailing father that he will catch the killer, who he refuses to accept may in fact not be human, John’s mental state descends into madness as he struggles to juggle being a single father to teenage daughter Jenna (Chloe East), managing an increasingly restless police force who don’t respect his authority, severe anger management issues and a potential relapse into alcoholism due to the stress of it all. Sounds like a lot right? That’s without including the violent beast which continues its streak of killings on the increasingly frightened townspeople, who begin to doubt the effectiveness of the officials devoted to protecting them; a theme that hits especially hard given the events of 2020.

At first it is difficult to pin The Wolf of Snow Hollow’s tone down. What begins as a chillingly effective horror sequence that slowly builds the sense that someone or something is lurking in the shadows then takes a sharp left turn with the introduction of John. Jim Cummings’ performance is something of an oddity within the film, a tonal mismatch that can at first feel like it does not belong within this grounded and violent horror film. His character moves at a mile a minute, constantly murmuring about the problems in his life as he investigates the case, eventually boiling over into frequent, often hilarious, full-blown breakdowns as he erupts at his staff or ex-wife, ripping them a new one before his attention is suddenly diverted by an errant thought in his overcrowded head. Cummings does an excellent job of portraying the extreme stress John is under and the multiple parts of his life vying for attention through a constant stream of subconscious dialogue which, at times, moves almost too quickly for the audience to keep up. Most of the time this just means the odd joke or two goes unappreciated – which is fine given this is such a fun movie that it will likely become a Halloween staple – but on a rare occasion or two it does result in an important piece of the case being overlooked, especially as clues are seemingly pulled out of nowhere towards the end of the film if you haven’t been laser-focused.

Cummings also manages to instil a whole lot of heart into the proceedings, as we come to understand the frustrated yet loving bond between father and son. Robert Forster is fantastic in one of his final roles as the over-stressed police chief who refuses to quit and always manages to distract his son in one way or another from discussing his health in order to stay on as sheriff for a little bit longer. In his stressed out, confused state, John often overlooks this bond with his father, instead seeing him as a cause of stress to be retired and pushed aside so he can focus on the bevy of other tasks demanding his attention. The rare tender moments between the two feel especially earned and pack a genuine impact, given the complete tonal change from previous conversations, as John and the audience both come to realise the damage caused by sacrificing such an important personal connection. This theme extends to John’s relationship with his daughter Jenna, who is constantly pulled from John by her mother but who refuses to give up on him, choosing to live with him even though she will be left alone in the house as he investigates the killings. It is a cry for help that John again refuses to acknowledge, seeing Jenna only as someone to protect but not actively engage with. Chloe East is brilliant here, acting stand-offish to her father as an attempt to mirror his attitude but breaking completely when his alcoholism resurfaces and the future of their family looks uncertain. It’s heartbreaking stuff that lands even if Cummings does immediately switch the tone up again with a joke or descent back into horror.

With these horror sequences, Cummings chooses to adopt a less-is-more approach, focusing on creating an atmosphere of tension and dread rather than gory, over-the-top mauling scenes. A simple shot of the beast towering over a car pre-kill is just short enough to keep the mystique of the animal (and reduce the focus on the low budget wolf costume), while still conveying the very real threat to its victim. It’s a refreshing take on horror that doesn’t rely on jump scares to create fear, instead utilising glimpses of the carnage left behind at crime scenes and infrequent shots of the attack in action. An almost slapstick sound design to these attacks also contribute to the mythicising of the threat of the wolf, with plenty of 80’s B-movie squelches and frantic screams as limbs are torn apart and littered all over the place. When Cummings wraps things up he does so in thrilling fashion, with a bare knuckle chase sequence that still manages to pack in the odd low-key joke whilst keeping you glued to the screen.

While the rest of the world was going to hell in 2020, the horror genre continued to, well, do just that in a good way and The Wolf of Snow Hollow rightly earns its place as one of the best horror films of the year. Unlike his character, Cummings proves incredibly adept at juggling multiple balls at once; from the constantly shifting tone and multiple genres the film draws from to a perfectly manic lead performance at the centre of it all. You’ll come for the promise of werewolf shenanigans, but you’ll stay for Cummings’ unique blend of acerbic wit and an intriguing police investigation that will keep you guessing right up to the very end. A must-watch.

The Wolf of Snow Hollow stars Jim Cummings, Riki Lindhome, Chloe East, Will Madden, Jimmy Tatro, Annie Hamilton & Robert Forster – Available to buy or rent on iTunes now.

Tags Chloe East, Jim Cummings, Jimmy Tatro, Riki Lindhome, Robert Forster, The Wolf of Snow Hollow, Will Madden

Movie Reviews

The Midnight Sky

Post author By Mark
Post date January 12, 2021

George Clooney’s seventh directorial effort starts on a somber note. Following a heavily bearded, gaunt Clooney around a deserted Arctic base, we discover that the entire planet has been made virtually uninhabitable by a vague, unexplained environmental catastrophe (AKA global warming). This tour continues for ten minutes, during which some flashbacks are interspersed to let us know that there may be hope, as Clooney’s Dr Augustine Lofthouse details the potential for life on a small moon orbiting Jupiter. Then we learn that Lofthouse has some kind of a terminal illness. That’s a pretty fitting summation of The Midnight Sky, a film that constantly feels as though it is building towards a grand statement about humanity’s treatment of the planet and the potential to fix it, before descending into relentlessly boring, needlessly depressing tedium with no conclusion. This is a film about the eradication of life on earth and the potential to restart the human race, and yet, not a great deal actually happens.

Lofthouse’s lonely, existence comes to a halt when he discovers a small girl, Iris (Caoilinn Springall), hiding out in the observatory, terrified and strangely mute. As the two adapt to each other and form a wordless bond, they are shaken from their isolated existence by a radio signal received from returning spacecraft Aether, ending its round trip mission to establish a colony on the moon of Jupiter. The Aether is crewed by an unlikely mob of superstar actors, led by David Oyelowo’s Commander Adewole and including Felicity Jones as heavily pregnant communications expert Sully, Kyle Chandler’s hotshot pilot Mitchell and renowned Mexican-American actor Demián Bichir as Sanchez. As the crew hurtles towards Earth, mysteriously unable to communicate with anyone on the doomed planet, Augustine realises he is the only person capable of warning the astronauts of their impending doom and sets out on a daring mission, with Iris in tow, across the snowy wasteland to a nearby satellite capable of reaching the Aether.

The undeniable strength of Clooney’s opus is the visual presentation. It looks spectacular, with sprawling shots of the frozen Arctic tundra making you feel physically cold, capturing the sense of isolation that Augustine feels as potentially the last man on earth. Once Augustine and Iris embark on their trip, that picturesque landscape that looked so impressive from the safe windows of the observatory becomes a snowy hellscape for the pair, battling fierce blizzards that obscure the screen and hide shadowy threats in the madness. Conversely, Clooney shows us that there is also great beauty to be found out in the world, making his point for environmental conservatism hard to argue against when displaying the natural beauty of the Northern Lights, which shimmer with colour (just one of many scenes that were made for crystal clear 4K). When the story shifts to space it loses none of its visual flair, with the inventive, futuristic design of the Aether dropping jaws and setting it apart from others that populate the genre.

The narrative, on the other hand, is not as impressive, as Clooney seems laser focused on blaming audiences for their part in dooming the planet to its – some would argue – inevitable fate. What he doesn’t seem interested in is offering any solutions or commentary on how that fate could have been avoided, leaving the ensuing, glacially paced two hours a depressing, almost joyless slog. Clearly a brilliant mind, albeit one without much social acuity, there are attempts to humanise Augustine through flashbacks that suggest a past relationship and the sacrifice of that in order to devote himself to finding a habitable planet to save the human race. Played by Ethan Peck as a younger man – with a curious bit of digital trickery melding their voices to give a continuity to Augustine’s character – these scenes simply don’t do enough to make the mopey, boring lead any more interesting. He has sacrificed a lot, that is undeniable, but the self-pitying silence that fills most of the run-time becomes unbearable at times, as you pray for some action to break up the monotony.

That action comes in the form of the Aether and the bevy of talented actors who all do what they can with their thoroughly underwritten characters. Each has their own hook: Sully is the link between the ship and Augustine, Mitchell longs to see his family again, Maya (Tiffany Boone) is the inexperienced rookie and Commander Adewole furrows his brow throughout the whole affair, constantly worrying. You get the sense that most of these actors are here simply to work with Clooney rather than for the skin and bones roles they are afforded but the familiar faces do go a small way towards making the crew likeable. Clooney draws on his experience from Gravity in a spacewalk scene that feels wholly original as the crew jam out to “Sweet Caroline” on the radio before turning into a fiasco once struck by a meteor shower. It’s frantic filmmaking that enthrals for a brief few minutes before cutting back to our moody protagonist, the fallout of the accident largely inconsequential given our nonchalance towards the crew.

At the end of it all, The Midnight Sky seems about as pointless as the Aether’s mission. Clooney’s intention to discuss and break down climate change is admirable but doesn’t go anywhere because he refuses to actually dive in, content to play the blame game and leave it at that. Similarly the entire premise of the film essentially results in the Aether doing a U-turn and heading back to their colony, the journey largely inconsequential. An unearned late game revelation will likely have audiences scratching their heads as to the point given the lack of development between Augustine and Iris, but seems to function to give Clooney’s character some form of catharsis. For all its visual flair and the stacks of cash that were thrown at Clooney to make it, the esteemed actor-director forgot to give us a story or characters worth caring about. If there was ever an argument to be made for Netflix imposing a little more control or oversight over some of its more expensive films, this is the prime example.

The Midnight Sky stars George Clooney, Felicity Jones, David Oyelowo, Caoilinn Springall, Demián Bichir, Tiffany Boone, Ethan Peck, Sophie Rundle & Kyle Chandler – Streaming on Netflix now.

Tags David Oyelowo, Felicity jones, George Clooney, Kyle Chandler, Netflix, The Midnight Sky

Movie Reviews

Promising Young Woman

Post author By Mark
Post date January 10, 2021

The #MeToo movement took the world by storm in 2017, with predatory behaviour and the culture of toxic masculinity within the Hollywood community being taken to task by the women who had long suffered from it. Many more women have come forward in the years since to tell their own horrifying stories, putting the world on notice that this kind of behaviour simply won’t be tolerated any longer. That’s a message that Carey Mulligan’s character Cassie has well and truly taken to heart in Emerald Fennell’s incendiary directorial debut Promising Young Woman, an incredibly dark and biting comedy thriller about one woman’s quest for revenge against the entire concept of toxic masculinity. Its no-holds-barred approach to the social commentary at its core may come at the cost of building an empathetic lead character at times, but a career-best performance from Mulligan, highly stylised presentation and some of the most brutal on-screen violence of 2020 each make this a film you can’t ignore.

The titular woman at the centre of the story is Cassie (Mulligan), a med-school drop-out whose life was irreversibly changed by the death of her childhood best friend Nina. As a result of the stomach-churning circumstances surrounding Nina’s death (I’ll avoid specifics due to spoilers) Cassie has taken it upon herself to launch a one-woman crusade for revenge on Nina’s behalf. Every week she visits clubs and bars, pretending to be paralytically drunk in order to draw in scumbags from far and wide, teaching them a lesson they will never forget as they inevitably attempt to get in her pants only to realise she is stone-cold sober and has caught them in the act of attempted sexual assault. Yeah, it’s a pretty hardcore plan. On the advice of her parents (Clancy Brown and Jennifer Coolidge), Cassie attempts to soften her stance on men and re-integrate herself into everyday life, slowly falling for old college friend Ryan (Bo Burnham). When she runs into Madison (Alison Brie) however, another old friend from college, Cassie uncovers secrets from her past that shake her to her core and force her to make some hard decisions about whether to keep on the path of revenge she had committed herself to.

What makes Emerald Fennell’s film so unique is the tone. Almost intentionally awkward at times, the film’s vacillates between humour and seriousness seemingly on a whim. We are laughing at the ridiculousness of some of these men Cassie is stalking – caricatures of a far more sinister real-world equivalent – as they rant stupidly through inconsequential conversations with colleagues in clubs, only to have that laughter come to a grinding halt when you realise what these men intend to do to a seemingly helpless girl. It’s a jarring switch, but one that lends itself to the theme at play here: not all men are inherently evil, but that potential is lurking there under the surface for those morally bankrupt few who need only an opportunity to present itself for them to take advantage of a situation. That zig-zag between comedy and thriller is aided by Fennell’s almost over-the-top style. The film is filled with close-up shots of both men and women, shot to look as though they are being seen through the eyes of the opposite gender. Shots of female breasts and lips contrasted against fat, sweaty white businessmen tearing up the dance-floor is an equally funny and horrifying visual representation of that predatory behaviour Cassie aims to stamp out. Yet this even-handed juggling of two genres unfortunately does not always extend to Cassie herself.

Mulligan’s character takes a bit of warming-up to get used to. Initially extremely cold and snarky (think something of a female Patrick Bateman), Cassie’s crusade is presented as essentially the entire driving force behind her existence. The trauma from her past has permeated every facet of her life and has halted any plans for normalcy, an emotional spectrum Mulligan brings to life brilliantly, moving between vulnerable, helpless drunk to fully aware alpha within seconds to chilling effect. When alone in her room, that mask of confidence slips away to reveal a truly broken woman underneath, a girl who has lost faith in humanity. Things look to change with the introduction of Bo Burnham’s Ryan – played to witty perfection by the young comic – a perfect gentleman it seems, whose occasional minor stumbles early in their courtship Cassie is determined to look past. The montage of Cassie and Ryan’s burgeoning relationship is a highlight of the film, the first (and unfortunately only) glimpse at something in Cassie other than rage and a lust for vengeance, set to the bubblegum pop of Paris Hilton’s “Stars are Blind”.

At a certain point in the film Fennell makes a decision to shed this character development completely, doubling down on Cassie’s commitment to her cause and driving the final nail into the coffin of toxic masculinity. It’s a strong, jarring decision that some audiences may not like – I’m still coming to terms with it myself – and one that leans into the darkness of the subject matter, presenting a scene so shockingly violent and raw that I had to turn away a few times. While the ending does have a fun tongue-in-cheek, wink at the camera quality to it, you’re left with something of a hollow experience after having invested so much time into a character that really doesn’t develop much from where she first started. Mulligan’s performance goes a long way to making that lack of development not seem so obvious. She is clearly relishing playing a role so diabolical and psychotic, and it is hard not to get wrapped up in that and enjoy the ride in the moment. As a symbol for the #MeToo movement, Cassie will go down in the ages as the filmic representation of women fighting back against the patriarchy, taking a stand against a corrupt system that has long kept them down. The costume design and visual presentation in the climactic scene alone are a striking and pointed message at the scumbags of the world: your time is up.

Promising Young Woman is the perfect response to the social change of the last few years; a scathing, biting send-up of all the worst parts of toxic masculinity led by a tour de force performance from Carey Mulligan as a woman a scumbag wouldn’t want to meet late at night in a dark alley. It wears its social commentary on its sleeve, sometimes to its character’s detriment, but there can be no denying the impact the film leaves you with, an unsettling feeling of disgust, but worse a recognition that this type of behaviour does happen in the world. Emerald Fennell comes out of the gate swinging and while it may not be a movie you will want to revisit often, with its heavy themes and bone-crunching violence, Promising Young Woman isn’t one you will forget in a hurry. Parts of it I don’t think I ever will.

Promising Young Woman stars Carey Mulligan, Bo Burnham, Alison Brie, Clancy Brown, Jennifer Coolidge, Molly Shannon, Laverne Cox, Connie Britton, Adam Brody, Sam Richardson, Christopher Mintz-Plasse & Christopher Lowell – In cinemas now.

Tags Adam Brody, Alison Brie, Bo Burnham, Carey Mulligan, Christopher Lowell, Christopher Mintz-Plasse, Clancy Brown, Connie Britton, Emerald Fennell, Jennifer Coolidge, Laverne Cox, Molly Shannon, Promising Young Woman, Sam Richardson

Movie Reviews

Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom

Post author By Mark
Post date January 6, 2021

One of the biggest tragedies of the terrible year that was 2020 was the loss of Chadwick Boseman. The young actor was on the cusp of superstardom with his brilliant turn as the king of Wakanda in Marvel’s Black Panther and diverse roles in 42 and Get on Up cementing him as a terrific talent to watch. His final role in George C. Wolfe’s Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom is made even more bittersweet by the fact that it is best work, an award-worthy showcase of raw talent snatched away far too soon. Paired with the always stellar Viola Davis as legendary blues singer Ma Rainey, the duo clash as they both strive for their independence in different ways, resulting in some truly enrapturing monologues that capture all the intensity and desperation of the African-American push in the 1920s to gain respect and recognition in America.

Boseman plays Levee, a talented, upstart trumpeter in Ma Rainey’s back-up band who feels the time has come to start his own band and put himself on the map within the Jazz community. During rehearsals at a Chicago studio prior to a recording session, Levee begins to clash with the other members of Ma’s band, who become angered by his arrogance and lack of respect for Ma – a woman who has given him the chance of a lifetime and pushed the boundaries for African-American artists in an industry which had constantly rejected them. As Levee’s frustration with his status begins to grow, so too does Ma’s, as she defiantly battles with white studio executives to avoid having her artistic vision compromised to increase sales. As tensions rise all around, decisions are made that will fracture futures and make or break lifelong dreams.

Adapted from famous African-American playwright August Wilson’s arguably seminal play, Wolfe has his work cut out for him in transferring that single location setting to the screen and making it interesting. What could have been a technically boring film of speeches and conversations absolutely sings thanks to the smooth and fluent camerawork, which spins and careens around the room as the band-mates converse, highlighting each of them as they say their piece and immediately flicking around to capture the response. It makes what amounts to an hour and a half of talking riveting and captivating cinema that keeps you on the edge of your seat as the conversations become more personal and intimate and the hardships and trauma of these four men are laid bare. This energy is infused into the dialogue as well, which is never preachy but always hard-hitting and to the point. These men have all been through hell in their own ways, Levee maybe more than the rest, so slowly unravelling their stories through these conversations not only invests you in the characters but in the struggle of the African-American community for respect and recognition in America.

Then there are the performances, which put simply, are world class. Davis is almost unrecognisable as Ma Rainey, drenched in makeup and wearing an extravagant gold grill, she completely commits to the character, carrying herself with a mixture of well-earned arrogance, pride and fear that all that she has worked for will be ripped away if she does not stand up for herself. When Levee or the studio executives begin to overstep their boundaries, Ma does not hesitate to put them in their place – whether that be through her ferocious temper or diva-like behaviour that adds some levity to the otherwise heavy proceedings. Boseman is transformative as Levee who is initially wide-eyed and hopeful about his future, but as the discussion veers into his backstory and the plight of the African-American community you realise there is far more to this troubled young man than just his hopes for a Jazz-filled future. The mad glint in his eyes may seem like a reflection of the hunger and excitement for becoming his own man but under the surface is a darkness and fear bubbling away born from some truly horrifying, eye-opening trauma from Levee’s past. There are two monologues in particular where Boseman lays everything on the table, shattering nerves and breaking your heart as he breaks down and begins to crumble. These scenes alone should net Boseman a posthumous Oscar but he never lets that intensity and energy lapse, carrying it the entire film until the shocking finale.

Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom is a showcase for two of the finest actors of this generation, one tragically taken far too soon. Boseman and Davis are electric and captivating on levels audiences didn’t think they could reach, easily some of the best performances of the year and worthy of the inevitable awards consideration. George C. Wolfe’s film isn’t content to rest on the laurels of these two superstars, however, crafting a beautifully shot and decorated film that benefits from its swift pace to carry you through captivating discussions of the African-American experience in a different time. The themes and trauma of the characters, however, are still as relevant today as ever, especially in the heated climate of 2020, making this one of the most important films of the year; as informative and eye-opening as it is enjoyable to watch.

Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom stars Viola Davis, Chadwick Boseman, Colman Domingo, Michael Potts, Taylour Paige, Dusan Brown & Glynn Turman – Streaming on Netflix now.

Tags Chadwick Boseman, Colman Domingo, Ma Rainey's Black Bottom, Netflix, Viola Davis

Movie Reviews

Wonder Woman 1984

Post author By Mark
Post date January 1, 2021

I appreciate the original Wonder Woman for what it is: a fun, well made superhero film with some exceptional scenes (No Man’s Land) and some great chemistry between Gal Gadot’s Diana Prince and Chris Pine’s Steve Trevor. It was the perfect introduction for the character of Wonder Woman, brought down a few pegs by the disastrous CGI mess of a final fight scene; a scene director Patty Jenkins has recently gone to great lengths to distance herself from, citing studio interference as the reason for its existence. For the sequel, Wonder Woman 1984 Jenkins takes up writing duties alongside DC veteran Geoff Johns, meaning she is in far more control of the muddled mess of a film that she has crafted this time around. From the awful CGI to the incredibly annoying, terribly written villains and almost incomprehensible plot, Wonder Woman 1984 fails on many levels, only kept chugging along thanks to the star power and charisma of Gadot and Pine. That plot is so incomprehensible at times that it is almost necessary to dip into some minor spoilers here and there, so consider this your warning.

Things get off to a roaring start with an introductory flashback scene to Diana’s homeland of Themyscira providing exciting thrills as a young Wonder Woman competes against a bevy of fully grown Amazonians in an Olympic games style triathlon. It’s all terrifically shot, with quick fast cuts and an exciting theme from Hans Zimmer that enraptures you quickly and never lets go, even if the scene never really justifies its relevance to the overarching plot. After this, it is straight into the titular time period and Jenkins seems hell-bent on earning that title, with a suitably cheesy fight scene in a shopping mall featuring some questionable fashion choices and Stranger Things style synth music announcing loudly and proudly that this film is set in the eighties. This scene pops with colour and seems overloaded with eighties references, a theme that crops up in a few noticeably lighter moments in the film, with montages of eighties fashion a joke that the film relies on quite a bit. Other than these visual gags however, the film doesn’t seem to really have much of a reason for being set in the eighties, using it as a visual and comedic crutch rather than for any meaningful plot significance.

That plot starts to lose its way almost 20 minutes into the bloated 2-and-a-half hour run-time, as we meet our first of the film’s two villains: Barbara Minerva (Kristen Wiig), a scientist who works with Diana and a bumbling klutz who means well, but lacks the social skills necessary to really connect with anyone. Wiig is a terrific actress, as we’ve seen in films like Bridesmaids, but here it seems her only instruction is to play the character as annoyingly as possible, like something out of an SNL skit. When Minerva is tasked with uncovering the origin of the mysterious dream stone by the museum, she stumbles upon a story of the stone granting wishes, and – fresh off an encounter with new friend Diana – tests it out by wishing to become more like her, unknowingly committing herself to a future filled with super-strength, speed and unbridled power she could never dream of. Like an episode of the Oprah show, Jenkins gives every major character a go on the stone, as Diana finds herself wishing for the return of her love and fraudster wannabe oil tycoon Maxwell Lord (Pedro Pascal) wishes to literally become the stone, granting wishes for others in an effort to establish power over all the worlds major players and resources.

It becomes clear shortly after the plot reveals itself that Jenkins’ only concern is Diana herself. Every other character in the story is simply there to service her arc of coming to terms with the loss of Steve and diving into the future, unafraid of showing emotion or letting herself get invested (a prelude to her keenness to assemble the Justice League?). Minerva’s change from good-hearted, if somewhat overzealous friend to full-blown villain is so ham-fisted and unexplained, relying on an inexplicit obsession with Maxwell Lord borne from him showing her the smallest amount of previously unreceived attention. Why does she suddenly hate Diana, her former friend, who has done nothing wrong to her? How does she become Cheetah? I still have no idea. The closest approximation I can make to any affinity towards the African cat is a scene involving a pair of cheetah print high heels she remarks on Diana wearing. Her ability to later walk in heels is the incredibly cheesy and cartoonish representation of the strength she has inherited from Diana which again, explains absolutely nothing about her motivations to turn into a supervillain. When she does, the CGI used to bring her newly feline form to life is laughably bad, with fights involving her shot in frustratingly low light and with such quick cuts to hide as much as possible.

Similarly, Pedro Pascal’s Maxwell Lord is an interesting enough villain at first, driven by his lust for power but also the desire to show his son that he is not a failure and can make something of himself. The performance is, similar to Wiig’s, dialled up to eleven as Pascal screams and yells about any number of things, playing off his cheap television persona to get ahead until he becomes one with the dream stone, suddenly turning calm and ominous in his tone. Pascal does what he can with the role, but any attempt to redeem Lord through his relationship with his son feels completely unearned when he hasn’t given a damn about him as he rips the world apart. The clichés never cease to end in both characters and plot as we head towards a typically large scale, end of the world scenario that we’re told can only be saved by Wonder Woman’s inherent goodness. That message in itself is hammered home multiple times throughout the film but doesn’t hit like it did in the first film. In the original Wonder Woman Diana was a symbol of peace, fighting the wars of men in an attempt to end the violence and show them the error of their ways. Here it is as simple as Diana is good and Minerva and Lord are bad so she has to win. It never gets any deeper than that.

Here’s where that minor spoiler comes in, you have been warned again. As you have probably seen throughout the endless streams of trailers and clips that have been released in the lead up to the film’s release, Chris Pine’s Steve Trevor returns to the fold, after having sacrificed himself at the end of the first film. This is obviously Diana’s wish on the dream stone, but the film makes the frankly mind-boggling decision to place Trevor in the body of a random civilian rather than his own. Over the course of these increasingly epic adventures, that excellent chemistry between Gadot and Pine is undercut by the fact that no one in the film is actually seeing Chris Pine, not even Diana herself. The film presents Steve as Pine to us the audience because that is who we are familiar with and that is how Diana remembers him, but in actual fact a complete stranger is joining her on all these adventures, completely robbing every moment of its emotional impact. If it is some attempt at conveying the “beauty is on the inside” message it doesn’t land, muddying up an already confusing storyline with a downright bizarre decision. Would it have been so hard for Steve Trevor to have regenerated in his own body? There isn’t a pre-established logic to the fantasy of wish fulfilment in a superhero movie.

Wonder Woman 1984 is a disappointment on nearly every level. The sequel to one of the most beloved superhero films of recent memory fails on almost every level as it fills its terribly paced, excessive runtime with nonsensical plot points, poorly written characters and mixed messages that contradict each other. With only a handful of memorable scenes and less than that of actual action, there is simply too much of a burden placed on Gal Gadot and Chris Pine’s chemistry to carry the picture, and it crumbles under that weight. Do yourself a favour this holiday season and watch Pixar’s Soul instead. The wonder is missing from this instalment of the franchise.

Wonder Woman 1984 stars Gal Gadot, Chris Pine, Kristen Wiig, Robin Wright, Connie Nielsen & Pedro Pascal – In Australian cinemas now and streaming on HBO Max in the US.

Tags Chris Pine, Connie Nielsen, DC, Gal Gadot, Kristen Wiig, Patty Jenkins, Pedro Pascal, Robin Wright, Wonder Woman 1984

Movie Reviews

Soul

Post author By Mark
Post date December 30, 2020

What happens when we die? How do we find our purpose in life? When does passion for something turn to obsession? These are the lofty questions asked by Soul, the latest film from premier animation studio Pixar and veteran director Pete Docter. Does the film answer all these questions? The answer is a resounding yes, in typical Pixar weep-inducing fashion no less, with the story of struggling music teacher and wannabe jazz musician Joe’s (Jamie Foxx) journey through the afterlife filled with heart, humour and a fascinating examination of the human experience. Whilst it may place too much focus on its mature story at times and not enough on making things fun and enjoyable for younger audiences, this is a resounding return to form for Pixar after the somewhat lackluster Onward earlier this year.

Joe is in a rut. Resisting the call of a steady full-time job, he slogs through his part-time music teacher gig by day as a means to support his true passion: jazz. When a former student offers him the chance of a lifetime to play in the jazz quartet of legendary Dorothea (Angela Bassett), Joe jumps at the chance… and in his excitement jumps all the way to his untimely, accidental demise. This is where our story truly begins as Joe’s soul is given an opportunity to mentor 22 (Tina Fey) – a particularly difficult young soul who has spent thousands of unsuccessful years attempting to find her purpose for living – in exchange for a shot at his own life again and the chance to fulfil his lifelong dream. Along the way, the pair begins to understand more than they ever could have imagined about life itself and the joys to be found in the little things, with epiphanies flying left, right and centre as they learn their true places within the world.

Soul is an impressive feat of animated storytelling in multiple regards, perhaps most importantly it might just be the best looking animated film ever made. Every frame is filled with groundbreaking, jaw-dropping visuals; from the crisp, photorealistic vision of New York, where Joe resides, to the ethereal, abstract quality of the training ground for young souls, the “Great Before”. Buildings are well-worn and populated in the city that never sleeps, capturing all the tiny details from cracks and chips in the bricks to faded stickers and graffiti on the subway. The jazz club Joe frequents looks spectacular, like something plucked straight out of La La Land, with its hazy neon sign and dimly lit, smoky interior providing the perfect backdrop for the captivating scenes of Joe performing in his element as he gets into “The Zone” – itself a visual marvel of vivid shades of blue and purple swirling around the musician as the rest of the world fades to nothingness. This sumptuous visual palette follows Joe wherever he goes, as his soul falls through strikingly abstract scenes of black and white lines on his way to the “Great Before”, which is rendered in brilliant baby blues and light purples, a calm and welcoming place for souls to learn about the world, in stark contrast to the dank wasteland of lost souls.

As you can probably tell from some of the locations I’ve just talked about, Soul is an incredibly original film, one that takes these great questions of the human experience and attempts to answer them through the personification of souls and their journey to find their “spark” – that lust for life and thirst to experience being human that qualifies them to be placed into a human body. Young souls bubble and bounce around with exuberance, not aware of the hardships of life and filled with sheer optimism. A great moving walkway ferries souls towards a great white abyss after they die, counted by an abstract guardian, Terry (Rachel House) who later pursues the renegade Joe. Similar abstract figures – the Jerry’s – act as guides to these fresh souls, teaching them all the things that make a human unique, and guiding them towards attaining their pass to enter a body. It’s all incredibly inventive and these otherwise undefinable aspects of the human experience are prime real-estate for the Pixar team to experiment to their hearts content, creating a world that makes these heady concepts palatable for younger audiences through visually arresting imagery and an accessible story filled with excellent messages for children to learn. In a way, Soul feels like the perfect companion piece to the studio’s earlier hit Inside Out. Where that film brought the emotional struggle within a human being to the forefront, Soul focuses on things external to the body, the many facets of life that make it worth living and that people connect to.

The story of Joe is at once recognisable and universal, one of discovering what makes you unique and what gets you out of bed in the morning and ready to dive into life. Jamie Foxx gives a deeply layered and nuanced performance in his portrayal of the teacher, a man who wholeheartedly believes his spark is music and will listen to no one else if it does not pertain to his goal, teetering dangerously close to obsession. We’ve all been in Joe’s shoes at one point, having taken an interest or hobby too far and needing to be reminded that there is so much more to life than this one thing. This relatability and relevance only makes the emotional impact late in the piece hit that much harder and in typical Pixar style you’ll require plenty of tissues on deck if you hope to survive to the end. The impact of those final moments is heightened by Joe’s companion 22’s journey.

The not so young soul has been around for some time now; completely apathetic towards life, she has burned through strings of mentors (deceased souls who have moved on to train the next generations) from throughout history, told within one hilarious montage. Her journey from hatred to a complete lust for life is wonderfully laid out and hits emotional notes like Joe does piano keys. It’s a truly beautiful story that’s only real flaw comes in the fact that there isn’t much focus placed on fun for the younger audiences. The presentation certainly seems kid-friendly, but the decidedly mature story doesn’t seem like it resonates with those without much experience with life and while it certainly does pack some good lessons in, there’s something to be said about the lack of adorable side-characters or visual, slapstick gags that usually populate a Pixar adventure. It’s a small complaint but one that does seem a little off-brand given the studio’s usual target audience.

Pixar’s Soul is nothing short of a masterpiece of animation. The culmination of all the technical wizardry the studio has cultivated over more than 20 years has led to the most visually stunning animated film ever created, with clarity and inventiveness in its imagery that will astound audiences of all ages. Its beautifully told story may not strike a chord with younger audiences, but like those ten minutes in Up, it touches emotion after emotion as it dissects the human experience and perfectly renders those small feelings of joy and wonder in the little things that make life great, on the way to a complete tearjerker of a finale. Soul is filled with humour, heart, imagination and most importantly, touches your own soul with that Pixar magic. Essential viewing.

Soul stars Jamie Foxx, Tina Fey, Graham Norton, Alice Braga, Rachel House, Richard Ayoade, Daveed Diggs & Angela Bassett – Streaming on Disney+ now.

Tags Jamie Foxx, Pete Docter, Pixar, Soul, Tina Fey

Movie Reviews

Godmothered

Post author By Mark
Post date December 21, 2020

A classic staple of the Disney formula; the fairy godmother, is the subject of Godmothered, the latest film from Bridget Jones’ Diary director Sharon Maguire. What should be a subversive, inventive twist on a genre staple generally cast as a side character unfortunately descends into tedium in one of the most aggressively bland Disney features in recent memory. Squandering a solid cast led by Jillian Bell and Isla Fisher, there isn’t much magic to be found here with a jumbled narrative, poor special effects and some seriously underdeveloped characters that serve less purpose than the spaghetti from Lady and the Tramp.

Bell gamely steps into the role of Eleanor, a fairy godmother who dreams of delivering happily ever afters to those in need in the human world, studying the code of her people day and night in preparation. The other fairies, led by Moira (Jane Curtin), do not share Eleanor’s optimism, as human’s belief in the fairy world and happiness in general has been steadily on the decline (2020, am I right?), threatening the entire occupation of Eleanor’s people and forcing them to consider lives as tooth fairies. Once Eleanor discovers this, she commits herself to a daring journey to the human world, determined to bring a happily ever after to Mackenzie (Isla Fisher), who dreamed of a Prince Charming as a child but who now finds herself stuck in a difficult grind as a single mother to Jane (Jillian Shea Spaeder) and Mia (Willa Skye).

By far the best part of the film is Jillian Bell’s portrayal of Eleanor. She brings such an infectious enthusiasm and positivity to the role that it is hard not to get caught up in it at first. Her eyes light up with childlike wonder at every turn as she experiences this whole new world for the first time and Bell almost oversells it at times, going all in on that giddy Disney optimism. Unfortunately the same can’t be said for Isla Fisher. She plays the straight woman to Bell’s over-exuberance as well as she can, but there just isn’t anything to her character. There are attempts to draw a sympathetic response from the audience by implying that she missed out on her happily ever after when her husband died and comments are made about the stress of her job cutting into her relationship with her children, but the film doesn’t really commit to pulling on any of these threads in much depth, leading to a whole mess of tonal shifts and plot realignments. Let’s explore shall we?

We’ll start with Eleanor’s mission. It is never established what a “happily ever after” encompasses and so the film relies on those classic Disney staples we all know. Find your Prince Charming. Have him sweep you off your feet. It’s a choice seemingly at odds with the film’s “girls can do anything” message. You have Eleanor aiming to do her best and save the day. You have Mackenzie working tirelessly to support her children and keep a roof over their heads. Jane, the eldest daughter of Mackenzie, is struggling with her own confidence issues in leading the school choir and gaining her mother’s support. Yet their problems can be solved by Mackenzie finding a man, specifically co-worker Hugh (Santiago Cabrera)? The film likes to tell you these girls can do anything and it is an excellent message to instill in young women, but it never really enforces the message by actually showing you. We have some fun bigger moments and some mopey, “looking at old photos forlornly” moments designed to give the impression of a story but nothing that really shows you these girls kicking ass until the very last few scenes. The big finale attempts to counter the whole Prince Charming can solve everything argument but it rings a little hollow after you’ve spent the preceding hour and 40 minutes following Eleanor clumsily attempting to set Mackenzie and Hugh up.

Then there are the gags themselves. The film is incredibly poorly paced, stretching on for what seems like an eternity between the many big set pieces. Some of these are better than others, from a magical mishap at a football match to a snowy misadventure that should end in more carnage than it does. The lesser ones are painfully blunt (Eleanor transforming the house to look like a Disney castle, complete with racoon and piglet helpers) or preachy to a point where you’re just beyond caring (a school concert which quickly turns into a self-help seminar). The elongated run-time full of filler also makes the incredibly choppy editing stand out that much more, with random cuts of the same character moving between two places with no connective tissue leaving scenes feeling inorganic and disjointed. The land in which the fairies live should be a highlight, a cross between that iconic opening credits Disney castle and the land of Angelina Jolie’s Maleficent films, but the visual effects on display make it all look a hazy mess and it is quite clear that the budget simply wasn’t enough to accommodate the scale of this world. This would also explain why majority of the fairy plot is left in the dust after the opening, with a haphazard attempt at reconciling these loose ends raising more questions than it answers.

Godmothered fails in a lot of different ways, most notably poor plotting, the colossal waste of Jillian Bell’s talents, bad visual effects and jokes that land with a deafening thud. Its greatest failure, however, comes in the lack of that trademark Disney magic. This is a film that should feel fresh, the rare film from the mouse house that isn’t a sequel or remake of a beloved classic. Yet the potential of the fascinating, previously untold story is never reached, and director Sharon Maguire seems content to simply check fundamental movie boxes rather than infuse any life or wonder into the proceedings. While younger children may find some enjoyment in some of the more slapstick moments and the fairy world, everyone else will likely have changed the channel or be suffering from severe neck pain from checking their watches during this overlong bore-fest. Fairy tale? More like Fairy fail.

Godmothered stars Jillian Bell, Isla Fisher, Mary Elizabeth Ellis, Santiago Cabrera, June Squibb, Jillian Shea Spaeder, Willa Skye & Jane Curtin – Streaming on Disney+ now.

Tags Disney, Godmothered, Isla Fisher, Jillian Bell, Mary Elizabeth Ellis

Movie Reviews

Sound of Metal

Post author By Mark
Post date December 19, 2020

‘Tis the season for outstanding performances and the latest (and perhaps greatest) comes in the form of Riz Ahmed’s stunning turn in Darius Marder’s Sound of Metal; an uncompromising look into one man’s journey to come to grips with hearing loss and how it affects those around him. Told with gritty realism and a commitment to presenting the deaf experience as accurately as possible, this is far from an easy watch but one that reveals as much about the human spirit and what it can achieve as it does the day-to-day lives of the deaf; who draw on that spirit to view their affliction not as a curse, but as something that makes them unique. With a similarly excellent performance from Olivia Cooke and next-level sound design that will have you believing you are experiencing the same things as protagonist Ruben, this is a brilliantly made and acted drama that demands your attention.

Ahmed plays Ruben, a recovering heroin addict and drummer for punk outfit Blackgammon alongside girlfriend Lou (Cooke). The pair live their lives touring dive bars and small venues from the RV they also live out of and it’s immediately clear that they share a history of drugs and violence. We understand the bond between Ruben and Lou at once; the commitment and understanding evident whilst playing on stage. This opening performance scene tells you all you need to know about the pair’s relationship with each other and music in general. It is their shared saviour and the thing that has brought them out of their tragic, arduous pasts; the central pillar of their lives that keeps them out of trouble. This single scene is so simple and effective in setting up the entire trajectory of the film; making it clear just how monumental the loss of hearing will be for Ruben. This is his way of life. You can feel his commitment to the beat, to hitting each note and how it draws him out of his troubles and into another world where he exists only with Lou.

The physical commitment from Ahmed and Cooke is also immediately recognisable, with both actors playing their own instruments (Cooke also does her own singing) and physically transforming into the punk duo with bleached hair and eyebrows. Cooke in particular looks almost unrecognisable and particular attention to detail has been paid to the story the duo’s physical appearance tells, with scars and tattoos informing us about their violent pasts without the need for verbalisation. Her performance is incredible. You can feel the love and fear for Ruben emanating from her through her eyes and facial expressions alone. There is clearly a strong backbone to Lou’s character and when the going gets tough for Ruben she doesn’t hesitate to act, encouraging him to join a deaf community as his hearing deteriorates.

This is where the real story takes shape. Ahmed is phenomenal at selling the overwhelming terror Ruben feels as his whole world crumbles around him; alternating between blind rage and denial; convinced his problem can be solved with the installation of Cochlear implants. There is an unsettling parallel made between Ruben’s past life of addiction to heroin and the increasingly desperate lengths he goes to to regain his hearing, made all the more terrifying by the mask of madness that engulfs Ahmed’s face as the film goes on, risking all that he has learnt for a shot at his former life. As Ruben ingratiates himself in the community, he strikes up a friendship with Joe (Paul Raci), who explains to him that he needs to accept deafness not as a handicap but as a blessing; to appreciate the quiet and stillness. Ruben slowly finds himself accepting his position, teaching deaf children music and becoming a central figure within the community, with Ahmed never failing to show the periodic frustration Ruben feels at a new situation he is encountering for the first time as a deaf person or the longing he feels for Lou, who has gone abroad to try to keep their musical momentum going.

Director Darius Marder has gone to painstaking lengths here to engulf audiences in the hearing-impaired experience and it shows, especially in the remarkable sound design. Sound fades in and out as we shift perspectives, voices become muffled and white noise dwindle to nothing as we enter the journey alongside Ruben, to the point where I was genuinely a little taken aback hearing sounds after being in that space for two hours. There are no big splashy scenes that go over the top with the sound design – or the acting for that matter – it is just consistently excellent across the board and the subtleness of it allows Marder to pull you into the experience better than if there were those big scenes that sometimes feel designed to attract award attention. Marder goes beyond the sound design to make the world feel as realistic and true-to-life as possible, showcasing ASL (American Sign Language) and other methods of communication prominently, something that will perhaps educate those unfamiliar with the deaf experience.

Sound of Metal is a gut-wrenching feature debut for Darius Marder. An unflinchingly real look into the journey of one man’s struggle to cope with total hearing loss is made all the better by a career-best performance from Riz Ahmed, channelling equal amounts of sadness, anger and desperation for his predicament. Aided by an equally enrapturing performance from Olivia Cooke and some truly breathtaking sound design, this is a film that relies on the strength of its characters and story to move you, rather than over-the-top performances or flashy effects, and it absolutely succeeds at drawing you into the world of those with hearing loss like no other film before it. It might not be the most accessible or easy film of the year to get into but once you are, you are all the way in, transfixed in absolute silence like the characters that inhabit the story until the very last frame.

Sound of Metal stars Riz Ahmed, Olivia Cooke & Paul Raci – Streaming on Amazon Prime now.

Tags Darius Marder, Olivia Cooke, Paul Raci, Riz Ahmed, Sound of Metal

Movie Reviews

Mank

Post author By Mark
Post date December 13, 2020

There’s a line fairly early on in David Fincher’s latest film Mank that sums it up beautifully: “You cannot capture an entire man’s life in two hours, all you can do is leave the impression of one”. The screenwriter is referring to the creation of the often quoted “greatest film of all time”, Citizen Kane but Fincher has also taken the phrase to heart, painting an incredibly detailed, complex and enthralling look at 1930’s Hollywood and the internal politics which plagued the studio system at the time. Aided by an Oscar-worthy performance from Gary Oldman, genuine technical wizardry that will make you believe you are watching a film from the 1930’s and a killer score from frequent collaborators Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross, this is a deep dive into one of classic Hollywood’s most notorious stories, told by someone with great affection for the material. That complexity becomes a hindrance for the film in spots, as the pacing of the film varies wildly and there are a few too many inside-baseball terms and references for the casual viewer, but those with even a passing interest in film history will likely love Mank.

The first thing that will grab you in Mank is the stylistic choice Fincher has made. This is a visually striking film, more so than any other modern film in recent memory, and one that wears its admiration and love for classic cinema well and truly on its sleeve. Outside of the obvious black and white presentation are the little things that Fincher and company have woven into the fabric of the film. The picture has a grainy quality to it (typical of classic cinema) with changeover cues (which signalled the changing of the physical film reel) and slight picture tears digitally added in to blend the film itself into the time period it is set in. The black and white also aids in conveying the multiple opinions expressed by the many different players in the film. The politics of Hollywood itself – combined with the larger political impact of the Depression and the war at the time – factor in prominently to the story being told and everyone’s opinion is slightly different on the spectrum between democrat and republican. The myriad of greys that constantly swamp the screen help reflect these varied responses to the world and the shadow or light Fincher chooses to bathe his characters in can often reflect their political views in relation to Mank’s personal views. The sound design also adds a lot here, with echoes to the dialogue indicative of the sound technology before digitisation as well as a typically incredible score from Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross which continues their winning streak of collaborations with Fincher, at once fitting right into the time period whilst sounding modern, with the slowly ticking, tension-inducing accompaniment to a climactic dinner confrontation a particular highlight.

In typically subversive Fincher-fashion, the director presents the story non-linearly. The overarching, framing narrative follows an older, injured Herman J. Mankiewicz (Oldman), who has been exiled to a remote cabin in Victorville, California by director Orson Welles (Tom Burke); free from politics, alcohol and any other distraction in order to complete the screenplay for the film that will become Citizen Kane. While here, Mank forms a bond with his typist Rita (Lily Collins), a young, idealistic British woman whose husband is fighting in the war. The Mank we see here is defeated; a self-proclaimed “washed-up” screenwriter who, at 43, believes he has wasted the talents of his youth and hasn’t achieved the greatness he was destined for. Oldman sells the world-weary side of Mank well. There is a tiredness to the man and it is immediately plain to see that he has gone through a hell of a journey to get to where he is at this point. The relationship he forms with Rita is touching and therapeutic for the both of them, as she learns to trust in the troublesome old man, discovering a kinder side that she didn’t believe was there, while he relishes the chance to initially torment but soon after banter with the young, switched on woman, a worthy opponent for his mental jousting that allows him to churn out page after page of script. It’s well done and simple enough to follow but these scenes are simply not as interesting compared to the flashback scenes of Mank’s heyday. Apart from a late encounter with Welles himself – played to perfection by Tom Burke – these scenes don’t crackle with the intensity that one would come to expect from a Fincher film.

Thankfully those flashback scenes are where the film soars. Written by his late father Jack Fincher, this is clearly a passion project for his son and it shines through in these frenetic, energetic scenes within the Hollywood studio system. The dialogue absolutely sings with the quick and witty back and forth between writers and studio executives almost too fast to follow at times. Mank, ever the socialite, runs through Hollywood like it is his own personal playground, and Oldman is simply thrilling to watch, expertly delivering line after line of lightning fast, razor sharp dialogue as he dips in and out of sets and executive offices at will, doling out words of advice and witty puns wherever anyone will indulge him. This fearlessness and need for attention serve him well when the screenwriter encounters newspaper baron William Randolph Hearst (played by Charles Dance and immediately familiar to fans of Citizen Kane and Rita, for bearing a striking resemblance to the tragic protagonist of Mank’s masterpiece) and his mistress Marion Davies (Amanda Seyfried). Hearst takes an interest liking to Mank’s refreshing willingness to express his opinions no matter the setting and as the screenwriter descends into Hearst’s circles, visiting parties and generally benefitting from his association with the tycoon, he strikes up an intense, platonic relationship with Marion. Amanda Seyfried gives a career best performance here as the actress who struggles with being known more for her relationship with Hearst than her actual talent and the scenes where she expresses this self-doubt to Mank are witty and moving, as she comes to accept her (admittedly still very well-off) lot in life.

Fincher surrounds Mank with a bevy of talent, with Arliss Howard a captivating villain as Louis B. Mayer, the famous head of MGM studios, harbouring a hatred for Mank’s unwillingness to conform to social conventions typical of the studio system. The pair have a brilliant back and forth, constantly taking shots as they encounter each other over the years, ultimately culminating in that aforementioned dinner confrontation that is surely the standout scene of the whole picture, a tightrope walk between tension and humour with a soul-crushing revelation to cap it all off. Tom Pelphrey is similarly excellent as Herman’s brother Joe Mankiewicz, constantly in his brother’s shadow and the less talented creative who has chosen a more business oriented life; he loves his brother but has grown weary of his antics. Rounding out the core cast is Mank’s wife Sarah, an extremely dutiful housewife who constantly supports her husband despite being viewed as a pushover by almost everyone around her for putting up with his constant drunken shenanigans. It’s something of a thankless role for Tuppence Middleton who doesn’t seem to play much of a role at first but who slowly becomes this incredibly sympathetic character as you develop this feeling of deep sorrow for her. She is an extremely selfless and loving person who has committed herself to this way of life and refuses to back down and Middleton owns the role, putting Mank in his place when necessary and stepping aside when she knows he is out of control; powerless to stop him from his attack on Hearst which ultimately costs him his position in Hollywood, prime for a come-back with Kane.

David Fincher’s 11th feature film is a labour of love. An ode to a classic time in Hollywood that he clearly cherishes; a family affair based on a script by his own father. It absolutely succeeds in glorifying the time period, providing a fast-paced, acerbically tongued world of powerful studio executives and prestige pictures. Oldman’s performance as the titular screenwriter is nothing short of amazing, crafting a complex, multi-faceted look at this complicated man who was loved and hated by many. While there is a distinction in quality between the present day and the far superior flashback storylines, with the pacing suffering because of it, the technical expertise and dedication to making the film look and sound as authentically 1930’s as possible never ceases to be spellbinding to look at. Unlike some of the other gems in Fincher’s filmography, Mank might not be as instantly re-watchable, but it is nevertheless a fascinating and rewarding film for lovers of cinema to sink their teeth into.

Mank stars Gary Oldman, Amanda Seyfried, Lily Collins, Arliss Howard, Tuppence Middleton, Tom Pelphrey, Tom Burke & Charles Dance – Streaming on Netflix now.

Tags Amanda Seyfried, Charles Dance, David Fincher, Gary Oldman, Lily Collins, Mank, Netflix, Tom Burke

Movie Reviews

The Witches (2020)

Post author By Mark
Post date December 10, 2020

There’s no denying that 2020 has been full of surprises. One of the more unexpected ones in the world of film may just be Robert Zemeckis’ latest feature; an adaptation of famous children’s author Roald Dahl’s The Witches. With a stellar cast and some top notch character design and effects work, the shock here is just how dark Zemeckis’ take on the source material turns out to be. Whilst The Witches may look like a fun family adventure from the outside, it veers into the macabre and horrifying side of Dahl’s world on several occasions, as the demonic Grand High Witch attempts to turn all the children of the world into mice. That jumbled tone between family friendly and horror makes for a particularly uneven viewing experience but one that also offers a ton of fun for bigger kids and adults if you can put up with some kiddy cheesiness and one hell of a showboat performance from Anne Hathaway.

Hathaway’s Grand High Witch is the leader of a particularly anti-children coven of witches, hell-bent on turning all the little tots into mice by way of the particularly wordy “Formula 86 Delayed-Action Mouse-Maker” potion. While it works in the confines of the story most of the time, be warned, this is a ridiculously over the top performance, as if Hathaway was on a personal mission to make sure her performance would be remembered over Anjelica Huston’s 1990 original. We’re talking a ludicrous accent wavering somewhere between German and Swedish, screeching in a register that would likely cause tinnitus from prolonged exposure and some truly horrifying visual effects which rival the original film’s incredible prosthetics to make the Witch look truly disgusting. Hathaway’s performance at once seems comedic, with the accent and some so-overt-they’re-covert jokes about her cat, but once the hunt for children gets going and the action starts to pick up it takes on a much more horrifying presence. There’s nothing quite like the sight of Anne Hathaway’s arms stretching to ridiculous lengths to ensnare a child to really give you nightmares.

That movement between the comedic and horrifying permeates the entire film and may have something to do with the extremely varied group of writers that penned the film (albeit likely different versions which have been combined). Kenya Barris (of Black-ish fame) and the great Guillermo del Toro share writing duties with Zemeckis here, and once that little fact is known it becomes immediately obvious where their influences have been taken. Del Toro’s signature gruesome spectacle and horrifying character design shines through in the witches themselves. The grand reveal of the witches’ true forms showcases some exceptional visual effects and character design which carry the horror maestro’s fingerprints. We’re talking knobbly feet without toes, three fingered clawed hands and mouths that elongate to reveal rows of razor sharp, demonic looking teeth. Hell, even the expanding nostrils of the witches, which are used for sniffing out children, are terrifying to look at. It’s all far too much for little children to take which begs the larger question of who exactly this film was made for?

Barris’ influences shine through in the development of our young, unnamed lead protagonist (Jahzir Bruno) and his Grandmother (Octavia Spencer). Almost the entire opening hour is devoted to establishing the relationship between this young boy and his only remaining guardian, herself almost a victim of witches in her youth who has studied the sneaky sorceresses in the years since. It works well to invest you in this young child’s terribly misfortunate life so far, so much so that you genuinely feel sick at the thought of him having to now deal with witches after everything he has been through. The relationship between the boy and his Grandmother is also incredibly sweet, based on love and the strict values of respect and obedience typical of Alabama in the 1960’s, with Spencer showing a fierce maternal instinct for her grandson. Bonded together by circumstance, the grandmother struggles to bring the boy out of his shell following some traumatic events and the thought of losing him to witches is enough to cause sheer panic and a stay at a palatial nearby hotel to escape the witches she believes are in her town.

Once here, the boy soon realises that the witches are not in their town and that the hotel is unwittingly host to a gathering of their ilk from all over the state. When the boy and his newfound friend Bruno Jenkins (Codie-Lei Eastick) are transformed into mice by the coven, they team up with the boy’s pet mouse Daisy (Kristin Chenoweth) – herself a former child turned by a witch – and his grandmother to put a stop to the broom-riding baddies and their nefarious plan to transform all the children of the world into mice. Zemeckis further muddies the tone by filming the affair with bright, vibrant colours; an overtly positive outlook shining through in every scene despite the more horrific moments. There are moments of sheer zaniness that lend themselves well to that kid-friendly tone, often involving Stanley Tucci’s woefully unprepared hotel manager Mr. Stringer. These scenes are pure fun, even if they are a bit childish, often leaving you with a huge grin on your face. The hotel itself is often shot from a child’s perspective, emphasising the enormity and foreignness to the boy from a small-town. This only increases once he becomes a mouse, leaving the now doubly gigantic area to take on a more comical tone, with scenes in the kitchen area in particular looking like a live action Ratatouille.

The Witches is a particularly wild ride I will not soon forget, chiefly due to the sheer bizarreness of it all. What could have been a fairly tame family affair is given a potentially unwelcome bend by leaning into the macabre and terrifying attributes of the titular villains. While this works for those old enough to cope with the more horror-leaning aspects, it may alienate a lot of children, arguably the primary audience. Anne Hathaway’s nostrils expanding to the size of a small dog is an alarming sight – even for an adult – and will almost certainly ensure nightmares for little ones. If you do have bigger children though, or are just after a zany, whacky adventure with some genuine heart that occasionally steers into a more mature scariness, then give The Witches a go. It’s so crazy you might think you’ve been put under a spell yourself.

The Witches stars Anne Hathaway, Octavia Spencer, Jahzir Bruno, Codie-Lei Eastick, Kristin Chenoweth & Stanley Tucci – In Australian cinemas now and streaming on HBO Max in the US.

Tags Anne Hathaway, Octavia Spencer, Robert Zemeckis, Stanly Tucci, The Witches, Warner Bros