MOVIE REVIEW: First Man (2018)

First Man is an epic character portrait of the late Neil Armstrong, told maturely and patiently through Chazelle's now patented style of mixing rough and tumble cinema, meticulously choreographed set pieces and sombre moments of silence, coming together seamlessly to produce another great piece of work. To say I enjoyed Damien's last two films would be a huge understatement - Whiplash remains one of my favourite films of all time and perhaps my favourite of the decade, while La La Land offered something entirely different but just as engaging in its own way. First Man strikes a different tone once again, opting to tell the story of an American and world icon through a personal, yet oddly detached lens. Going into the film my expectations were understandably extremely high, and although I think this might be the weakest film of the three, it is still one of the best I have seen this year.

Chazelle anchors the story of First Man to the formative years of Armstrong's career as an astronaut and married man in the very early 1960's. Personal tragedy strikes very early on, leaving a scar on the man that will be impossible to erase for the entirety of the movie. This event is the bedrock for the film and very much sets the melancholic tone of Armstrong's character. The rest of what happens, although larger than Armstrong himself, can be seen as a desperate quest for some kind of closure or release from the heavy burden of the past. From the very first scenes of First Man we can see that Neil is a difficult and often awkward character. He finds it difficult to express himself through words, not just with people in his profession but even those in his own family. He instead finds refuge in his talents for flying and commanding space missions, which he is undeniably great at.

The theme of social and emotional detachment surrounding Armstrong's character was a very intriguing one for me, although I do feel like the film could have explored it more deeply at times. Perhaps the fact we don't get to know Neil as well as many would like was the whole point. There certainly feels like there was some intentional distance put between him and the audience that never really gets closed as time progresses. Moments where Neil breaks character and launches into monologues are very scarce, rather he always seems to take a back seat and let others show the emotion. This is epitomised late on in the film where his wife Janet in a fit of rage all but forces him to sit his kids down and tell them he might not be coming home from the Apollo 11 mission. Ironically she speaks to him kind of like a child, which makes you realise how shut off and out of touch he has made himself. The resultant scene is one of the most telling of the whole film, as Neil struggles to get through the ordeal and answers the queries of his children with an almost business like persona.

 The film is by no means limited to these more personal themes however. In fact, it mostly focuses on the sheer magnitude and difficulty of early space travel and just how dangerous it really was. Humanity really was making huge technological strides in a matter of just months and years, and inevitably there were going to be some disasters along the way. Chazelle puts us in the cockpit of many of these life-threatening early missions, from the very first scene where Neil nearly kills himself exploring the outer atmosphere, to testing a Lunar landing vehicle where he is forced to eject, to the terrifying missions of the Gemini projects, where at one point he is confronted with the task of controlling a spin out of the module where he is moments away from passing out. Chazelle frames these missions in a context that I am sure is very close to how they actually played out - both in their significance for the eventual moon landing and the inherent danger of moving at such a relentless pace in order to win the space race against the Soviets.

The film does a good job at showcasing the monumental efforts of everybody involved at NASA, and I suspect will satisfy any geeks who like the technical jargon, but I never felt like it was too much for layman's like me to follow along. It really feels like Chazelle wanted to get some level of accuracy in realistically portraying the professional lives of the astronauts and engineers involved, and the team atmosphere at Mission Control.

The real meat of First Man is in the reconciling of Neil's flaws in his personal life with the perception of him as an American hero and pioneer of space exploration. Essentially I see the film in the same way I see Whiplash - the sacrifices and type of person that one is forced to become in order to achieve greatness. In Whiplash that theme was more upfront and concentrated in the characters of Andrew and Fletcher, who occupied almost archetypal representations of this dichotomy. In First Man, the trade offs are more subtle, despite the sacrifice and goals being more profound and some might say, honourable. There is also more going on in the character and chronology of Neil. The early pain that I mentioned is something very difficult to explore in the kind of overt manner that Whiplash tackles it's subject. The longer timeline of this film also likely dictated the decision to pace it in a slower, more calculated way. All in all I liked the pacing and tone of the movie, but people going in expecting something as rhythmically entertaining as either Whiplash or La La Land may come away sorely disappointed.

The screenplay of First Man fits well with the approach to Neil's character in that it puts as much emphasis on the quiet moments as the spoken moments. Indeed the silent parts were probably my favourite in terms of emotional impact. At times I felt like the personal sections could have been better written, as I didn't feel myself fully engaged through every scene. There were times when I was actively rooting for some chemistry between Neil and whoever he was interacting with, be it his wife, kids, friends or colleagues, yet the script never quite scratched that itch for me. There are touching moments for sure, but nothing that really drew me closer to the inner mind of the character. Again, I think part of this was intentional, but I would be lying if I said the dialogue was all it could have been. The moments where it shines through the most are when Neil is fully engaged in what he loves doing, or the moments of solemn reflection that are powerful enough without the need for speech or music. On the subject of music, Chazelle went with Justin Hurwitz once again to produce the soundtrack, but in general he is very sparing in his use of it, which personally I liked. The final climactic scenes on the moon itself were by far the most affecting to me personally, and aside from the obligatory lines that everybody knows, the scene is almost entirely silent, with just the desolation and peace of the moon occupying the frame. This is the moment equivalent to the final drumming performance in Whiplash, where you feel Armstrong is where he is meant to be and has finally realised his destiny.

The performances in First Man are top notch. Ryan Gosling does what Ryan Gosling has done so well before in an ever growing list of great films. There is something in that man's eyes that was designed for playing roles like this, always enigmatic and mysterious, adding a layer of vulnerability to every scene. I've seen him give better performances, but I still think he did a fantastic job with what he was given in what was a very challenging role. Claire Foy as Janet does an amiable job also, although I would have liked to have seen a bit more from her relationship with Neil and the struggles she was going through when he was away. I also enjoyed Jason Clarke as first American to walk in space Ed White. There were no mind-blowing performances, but none that disappointed either. If the screenplay was a little more polished then I believe there was potential here for Gosling and Foy to do some of their very best work, but as it turned out there were times where I felt the writing kept them in their comfort zones.

The film is as much a visual delight as any I have seen about space travel, but not for the typical reasons. Of course there are the expected shots of the Earth from space, the blackness of the unknown and the luminating glow of the Lunar surface, but of more interest to me was the tangible feel of the spaceships and pods, where every switch, nut, bolt and screw felt vitally important to the success of any given mission. Chazelle puts you literally in the faces of the astronauts as they operate these vessels, some of which are no bigger than the inside of a car. It is enough to induce any lingering claustrophobia the viewer may have, especially when you consider the lunacy of strapping yourself into one of these things with thousands of tonnes of explosives sitting directly under you. If the risk and danger of these situations is what Chazelle wanted to capture, he did a damn good job. So much so that when Armstrong steps onto the moon and into uncharted territory, it feels positively safe and serine compared to where he had been before. This is enhanced by the only real use of wide angled or long shots in the entire film, releasing the audience from the stifling grip of close ups and shaky handheld scenes that Chazelle indulges in for most of First Man, and I think also symbolises a quiet moment of clarity for Neil as he finally completes the mission of a lifetime. Overall First Man is a very immersive experience, throwing and tossing the audience around as if we were in Neil's shoes. This immersion contrasts well with the emotionally severed approach the film takes to Neil's personal relationships, only letting us get up close to the man when he is hurling through space at a thousand miles an hour.

As far as any political controversy this film has caused, I quite frankly get bored even thinking about it. It is a sad truth of our age that such a timeless and unifying event in humanity's history can not escape the web of lies, deception and political correctness of people who would rather focus on trivialities and playing the blame game than honestly engaging with a piece of art through apolitical eyes. All I will say is I applaud Chazelle for handling the telling of this great story with class and integrity. Anybody who would rather focus on what the film doesn't say than what it does I honestly feel sorry for. After all, what we need more than ever right now are stories of people who broke the mould, thought differently and chased impossible dreams against the odds.

First Man is a film I recommend for a variety of reasons. It is an important story for people to know about and understand. Damien Chazelle has said that his goal was to show aspects of the moon landing that have gone unseen and unrecognised for too long. I think he achieves this in that I came out knowing much more than when I went in, and beyond that, I empathised with the motivations and sacrifices made by all those involved. The script leaves a little to be desired, but does do an adequate job in documenting the prime years of a special and unique man, for all his faults. How much of First Man is accurate in relation to the real Neil Armstrong I do not know, but part of cinema is taking grains of truth and making them dramatically engaging, something Chazelle seems to be very good at doing. It is exciting to have a director working in Hollywood who is unafraid to tell stories of uncompromising characters who will stop at nothing in the service of something bigger than themselves. These are the tales that sustain us and inspire future generations to go beyond what is expected. Tied in with these themes in First Man is a look, admittedly from a distance, at the human condition and how people come to terms with loss. An eternal and well explored theme, but one the film gives some welcome clarity to.

Acting: 80
Narrative: 80
Cinematography: 90
Music: 80

Overall: 83/100

MOVIE REVIEW: The Florida Project (2017)

I don’t think it would be too far fetched to say that many of us have a rather rose-tinted memory of our childhoods. Grass seemed greener, the sky more endless, adults somehow more angelic, the sun always shining. Looking at the world through innocent eyes was somehow different, yet we also struggle to pinpoint exactly whereabouts that innocence was lost. I have long had a fascination with this surreal dimension to the experience of childhood nostalgia, and I tend to admire artists that are willing to embrace the subject. One is struck with overwhelming deja-vu when reminded of such a memory in a random song, old film or revisiting the site of some childhood revelries. Perhaps this is unique to me, yet I somehow doubt it. With this in mind, films like The Florida Project, which Sean Baker tells predominantly through the eyes of a few children, was an experience that completely floored me with its encapsulation of these ideas, with a story that unfolds organically against the looming backdrop of a brutally truthful depiction of life on the socio-economic margins.

I came into The Florida Project having avoided watching the trailer or reading anything about it, specifically because I suspected that this may be a very special film and that it was worth saving every surprise. I was not disappointed. The film is principally focused on Halley and her daughter Moonee, who are living in a motel called The Magic Kingdom in Florida, located just outside Walt Disney World. Most of the film plays out from a child’s eye perspective, in most cases Moonee’s, as she explores the surrounding areas with her friends Scooty and Jancey. This is inter-spliced with Halley’s story, as she struggles to pay rent to the motel manager Bobby, played brilliantly by Willem Defoe.

To say the film has a clear narrative or three act structure would be to do it an injustice. Sure, Halley has a ‘story’ if that’s how you want to put it, but to me it felt far more like a fly on the wall examination of the lives of people that are too often shunned by society. I felt like I was getting to know the idiosyncrasies of all of the characters, how Halley was trapped in negative cycles and often acted much like the children in the film, throwing tantrums when she doesn’t get her way or losing her temper at the wrong moments. Yet underlying it all an inexpressible sadness and desperation about her situation and a deep longing for her daughter to be happy. Moonee has more of a traditional character arc, as we see how the behaviour of her mother and the freedom she has been allowed has endowed her with a peculiar maturity and knowledge about the ways of the world. This is seen in the way she talks to adults like Bobby, who she knows how to manipulate. But once again there is a another side to her that is naïve to the darker side of human nature and simply wants to be a kid, which comes out in beautiful moments throughout the film, none more so than the tear-jerking final scene. Bobby might well be the third great character of the film. Again we see him in a number of guises, the responsible motel manager, the fierce protector or father figure, and in the final act, someone deeply moved by the desperation of Halley and Moonee’s situation. I loved these characters because I believed in them and their interactions. This is how humans often talk to each other in the real world, especially when under stress. Relationships are messy and sometimes even violent, and the fleeting moments that really matter often manifest spontaneously in the most unlikely of places.

Baker chose to intertwine the narratives of Halley and Moonee by filming scenes from different perspectives, shooting a scene involving Halley from the child’s height, or a scene where Moonee is clearly wanting attention from the adult’s height. This technique, although far from original, achieves several things. When we are watching Halley argue with Bobby for instance, we see it as if we are in Moonee’s shoes, half-knowing what is going on yet helpless to intervene. Or in the reverse case, from the adult viewpoint we see clearly see how the presence of children changes the impact and tone of what is happening, and thus we empathise with the characters and the tragedy of their predicament.

The scenes involving the children on their own also contain a duality. Baker gives us either wide angled shots of the children adventuring through truly bizarre surroundings, abandoned buildings painted in the most garish colours imaginable, or huge ornate souvenir stores, exaggerating their smallness in a very large world in which all they want to do is play and discover. On the flip side we get more intimate shots and close-ups, where simple facial expressions, body language or quirky remarks are all that’s needed to charm the audience. In adopting such a variety of ways of shooting events, Baker kept me 100% captivated from the first to the last frame in a way that only a handful of other films have. He has mentioned how he was heavily influenced by 1994’s Little Rascals and Hal Roach’s Our Gang, a series of shorts from the 20’s and 30’s. I haven’t seen either of these, but it is clear that Sean has become very proficient in this style of filmmaking by the accuracy in which he captures the emotional rollercoaster of being a kid.

The childhood innocence in the way the film was shot and written takes nothing away from the hardships facing Halley or others around her. Baker made sure that his characters, especially Halley, were by no means entirely sympathetic, and in many cases clearly objectionable. It was this ambiguity in her character that really drew me in to her struggle and allowed me to ponder the reasons why people end up in such dire circumstances. The world of The Florida Project is messy, unpredictable and indicative of deeper problems in society, many personal and many systemic, that are very real, even if many of us don’t want to think about it. Many have argued that the film is a critique of late stage capitalism in which people like Halley are left forgotten in a world of abundance, in this case the abundance being Disney World just around the corner. Although I agree with much of this interpretation, I feel like limiting it to that would detract from the more fundamental human themes that Baker wanted to highlight. Spontaneous moments of joy between mother and daughter, the playfulness of children, the immaturity of adult relationships, protective instincts in desperate moments, the inherent tragedy and beauty of the world. These are the real themes of the movie in my eyes, the social and political critiques being merely secondary and implied. With that being said, it is difficult to detach The Florida Project from the real world simply because it is so true to life. Reading about economic hardships and marginalised communities is one thing, but sometimes it takes a medium like cinema to give a tangibility to such things. I applaud Baker for not shying away from this and giving a nuanced take on it as opposed to a lifeless political commentary.

Despite the urgings of many I am yet to watch Tangerine or any of Baker’s other projects, but I understand him to have a distinct gritty style when it comes to aesthetics. The Florida Project is truly a gorgeous film, but in a far from conventional way. I have never been to Florida, yet by the end of this I felt like I had actually lived there. Baker’s camera inhabits the world so thoroughly that at points it almost felt like a documentary in terms of visual style. I think certain films can go too far in this direction to the point of monotony, but Baker manages to fill every shot with something transfixing or interesting to look at. It reminded me somewhat of American Honey, another small budget film that I think at times DOES feel a little bit crude cinematically. In that film though I saw the germ of something that I knew had great potential to evoke the majesty and freedom of America, and thankfully The Florida Project was the movie I was waiting for. Again the child-eye perspective of a lot of the scenes allows the audience to also see the world almost like a child. Everything seems bigger and more mysterious. The colours pop from the screen in magnificent clarity, the bizarre buildings are a constant source of intrigue. There is a palpable feeling that everything is alive and fighting for survival. You feel the heat of the Floridian summer in the gorgeous orange glow of twilight and the kids adventures into the dream-like greenery surrounding the motel. There is an unpolished feel to everything that Baker chose to include, nothing looks like it has been added or subtracted from a frame in service of cinema, hence the genius of the style is the effortless impact each scene possesses.

The casting decisions behind The Florida Project also bare similarities to American Honey. Halley is played by Bria Vinaite, who Baker remarkably found whilst scrolling through instagram. He has stated that something didn’t sit right with him about casting a well-known actor to play her. In the case of Moonee however he auditioned hundreds of children, finally settling on Brooklyn Prince, a truly genius stroke of casting in my eyes. Both of these performances blew me away, especially 7 year old Brooklyn who I suspect has a very bright future ahead of her. Willem Defoe is the only big star in the film, giving a rather straight but perfectly suited portrayal of Bobby, who in some ways is the anchor that holds certain parts of the story together. This trio, along with an informal supporting cast, all do a stunning job. It is really one of those rare cases where I struggle to find anything or anyone to criticise whatsoever.

The juxtaposition at the core of The Florida Project is one of the most heartbreaking I’ve seen to date. It is a film that cuts against the grain of many trends in modern cinema, substituting hyperbole for honesty, cheap thrills for stark realism and worn-out stereotypes for nuanced characters. Sean Baker resists the urge to preach to the choir and instead allows viewers to come to their own conclusions about the issues facing subsections of the population in America and beyond. Above even this though he has created an experience that is affecting on a multitude of different levels, reminding us that the playful way children see life might contain more wisdom than we first thought, but ultimately that things are often marred in tragedy and confusion. There is a humanism to the film that moved me to tears a number of times for reasons I struggle to put into words. In the end it adds up to one of the best movies I’ve seen in some time. It delivers in nearly every criteria I can think of, and proves just what cinema is capable of when it is at its best. I am looking forward to seeing what the impact of The Florida Project will be on the industry at large and also what Baker decides to do next. One thing is for sure, he’s going to struggle to top this!

Acting: 95
Narrative: 95
Visuals: 100
Music: 90

Overall: 95/100

MOVIE REVIEW: About Time (2013)

To say Richard Curtis films divide opinion is a vast understatement, and just looking through the reviews I can see that About Time is no exception. This film has an undeniable cookiness about it, I’ll admit, with a central conceit that feels a little shoehorned in at times to be totally enthralling. Yet, I couldn’t help but come away from the film with a big smile on my face and even a tear or two in my eye. In much the same way as both Love Actually and The Boat That Rocked, there wasn’t much in About Time that impressed me cinematically, but what all 3 films do to a greater or lesser degree is reaffirm some of my faith in human compassion and love, and for that this film deserves some credit.

Curtis does a great job establishing his characters at an early juncture, introducing us to Domhnall Gleeson’s character Tim and his very middle class family, including his eccentric father played brilliantly by Bill Nighy. A bit later we meet Rachel McAdams character Mary. Well, actually.. we meet her several times due to Tim’s complicated process for wooing her (I won’t spoil it). This first act is where the main plot twist really worked for me both comically and narratively, feeling more organic and necessary than later on when it appeared more forced for cheap laughs. Watching Tim learning to get to grips with his newfound superpower was really enjoyable for the most part though - especially the scene where he comes to the aid his friend on the opening night of his West End play by reminding the lead actor of his forgotten lines.

As the film unfolds it takes on a more sentimental mood in which Tim must essentially grow up and embrace his feelings for Mary, even having to resist his chance to hook up with Margot Robbie sporting a British accent!! (I feel your pain, Tim). In all seriousness though this was one of the sweeter parts of the movie for me, where Tim truly realises his love for Mary, who might be the most kind-hearted on-screen character I’ve ever come across. This seems to be one of Curtis’ talents as a filmmaker, to highlight the best in people and to film scenes that extend or symbolise fleeting moments all of us experience when around loved ones, rare times when the trust and love you feel for someone appears infinite. Directors who can do this correctly are few and far between, but I think Curtis just about manages it without seeming crass or saccharine.

The third act is where a more somber tone takes hold, as Tim is confronted by two challenging family crises. The first involving his sister, Kit Kat, who he must use his powers to help get her life back together. The second and by far the most moving part of the film, being the death of his father. The scene with the two of them playing table tennis and the subsequent flashback had me in tears, as it seemed to perfectly capture the unbounded love they shared for one another. The simplicity of such a moment is what gives it such power, and for me it perfectly summed up the spirit of the film.

The narrative of About Time is so strong that other technicalities were not as relevant to me as in other films. I was never in awe of what I was seeing on screen, but having said that, Curtis and his crew do an amicable job in making it pleasing to the eyes. The film has a very down to earth feel about it, much as Love Actually did, and being a Brit myself I have a particular soft spot for the Cornish countryside, which contrasted nicely with the urban settings of London. In terms of rom-com’s, About Time was a lot more pleasant to look at than some of the more glossy, idealised visuals of many others I’ve seen.

If I was to pick a favourite performance in this film it would have to go to Bill Nighy as Tim’s father, as I immediately cheered up whenever he was in shot. More so than in Curtis’ other films, I felt like he really fit this role almost perfectly, the only problem was the lack of screen time he was given. McAdams and Gleeson didn’t disappoint either, nor did any of the surrounding cast. One of my few gripes however would be the rather rushed plot line of Kit Kat, who plays the role of supportive sister for most of the film before all of a sudden having her life turned upside down and put back together again in the last act. I would have liked to have seen more attention given to her story, although this might have dragged things out for a bit too long.

About Time is essentially Richard Curtis in his comfort zone, doing what everybody knows he can do as well as pretty much anybody. By adopting a tone that is strikingly similar to his previous films and centring on themes of love, companionship, friendship and family he was bound to create something that made some people cringe and others delight. Thankfully, I was on the delighted side. Perhaps I am simply a big softie who can’t resist such a love story, but I can’t be ashamed of that. I understand the critisisms of the movie, but in a world in which there is so much anger and despair, sometimes we need films like About Time to remind us what really matters.

Narrative: 90
Acting: 80
Visuals: 70
Music: 85

Overall: 81/100

MOVIE REVIEW: The Hunt (2012)

The Hunt is a film that flags up overlooked parts of human nature, showing plainly how paranoia and judgement can systematically break the fabric of an otherwise peaceful community. I loved this movie for several reasons. From Mads Mikkelsen's tenacious performance to the wintery European setting, the film oozes taste and sincerity from the very first shot. Based on a true story, we see Lucas painstakingly fight for his freedom and reputation, chained to the word of a child who claims he sexually abused her.

Vital to the success of The Hunt was the decision to show the audience that Lucas was innocent in the first act, setting the tone of injustice and allowing us to invest deeply in his struggle - which I did from the very first scene. Much of the film feels like a greek tragedy, where confusion and chaos slowly infect a group of people and eat away at them all. Indeed this is a case where no one is guilty, and yet a simple lie from a young girl can disrupt the order of things. What was so affecting to me was how it depicted the fragility of our nature, showing that we might only be an accident away from complete moral panic. Because we know Lucas is innocent, this uncertainty appears more detached. Instead of getting wrapped up in wondering if he was guilty, I was able to contemplate deeper questions about how the people react to such a situation. I never found myself defending or endorsing the actions of the community, rather I was just an observer of it all, baffled and fascinated in equal measure.

The way director Thomas Vinterberg handled the story was exceptional. After our introduction to the characters and Klara's claim about Lucas, the unraveling begins. The pacing of the film was such that it felt like a domino effect. The claim is initially dealt with professionally by the staff at the nursery, but as more people find out the panic begins to set in and assumptions are made about who else Lucas might have abused. Eventually we are in complete free-fall. Lucas' words fall on deaf ears and even once he is cleared of the charges in court, the damage appears to have already been done. One of the most heartbreaking passages of the film for me was seeing how Lucas' son desperately fights his father's corner, but descends into similar lowly actions against Klara's family, adding to the continuing themes of primal human nature and total chaos. Lucas' refuses to be ostracised despite being put through hell by nearly everyone, culminating in the church scene that I won't spoil, but that lifts the film to Oscar worthy levels in my opinion. The twist ending is yet more confirmation that time will not heal the wounds of doubt and that Lucas might be the victim of this lie indefinitely.

Technically the film is nearly flawless. We are allowed to get to know Lucas quite well in the first act. He is brilliantly depicted as a man of integrity and honesty, who genuinely cares about the children he works with. This makes it all the easier to get behind him when things get rough. The pacing and editing were executed flawlessly. The rural autumnal environment added so much power to the film for me. Juxtaposed settings of the modern European town with the wild hunting grounds seemed to be symbolic of the two sides of human nature that the film tries to embody. As the title suggests, the film is very much about our sensitivity to mere suggestions of evil, and how we may react with an "eye for an eye" mentality when out becomes overwhelming.

Vinterbeg certainly got the best of of his cast. Mads Mikkelsen was simply stunning in this role, turning in a dynamic and charged performance throughout as Lucas - certainly one of the best performances I've seen to date. I liked all the other characters as well, especially the child actors who played both Klara and Marcus. Sometimes foreign language films are harder to engage with, but a testament to The Hunt's quality is how this wasn't the case. The script is so strong that having to read subtitles barely affected how much it drew me in. Ok, so the screenplay is not super complex, but I actually think this worked in it's favour because it allowed the emphasis to be on the visceral emotions of the characters rather than the words they were saying. It was refreshing to see some restraint in this department.

The Hunt is one of the best attempts I've seen to translate a genuine human tragedy into a movie whilst also keeping it engaging to the viewer. 'Kafkaesque' is an overused term, but Lucas' story most definitely feels like it fits in this category. Beyond all that it is simply a fascinating analysis of human nature under chaotic circumstances. Do yourself a favour and check it out!

Acting: 95
Narrative: 95
Visuals: 90
Music: 90

Overall: 93/100

MOVIE REVIEW: Minimalism: A Documentary About the Important Things (2016)

I was hoping this documentary would be more than simply a cheap attack on capitalism, and to be fair it was. Minimalism: A Documentary About the Important Things central spiel essentially comes down to quality over quantity. How culture has moved away from it's core values to become hyper-consumerist in the last 20-30 years due to a number of different factors; capitalism, marketing and technology, to name just a few. It also touches briefly on some of the psychology behind why we have fallen so deeply into this pit of endless material pleasures. All of these things are of great interest to me, and hence I appreciate this documentary for outlining the key issues and drawing our attention to the potential for more fulfilling lifestyles. That being said, it is pretty thinly veiled, only offering quite rudimentary insights into a set of issues that psychologists can spend their whole careers studying and seeking to understand.

This film was fairly well put together from a thematic standpoint. The main thread focusses on the concept of "minimalism", overconsumption and materialism in then modern age. It goes about discussing the lifestyle and it's ramifications through personal stories and anecdotes from a variety of attractive middle class Americans, most of whom have come from wealthy, materialistic backgrounds before finding a level of solace in a much more reductionist way of living. Most of their arguments hold up pretty well, and I find it difficult to criticise their reasoning for choosing such a path. Indeed, who wouldn't be happy to live such a life? The through line of the whole thing is the story of The Minimalists, a pair of men in their early 30's (I think) who abandoned their six figure salary corporate jobs to become full time advocates for this lifestyle, authoring books and touring the country promoting it. Most of the interviews were engaging if a little void of original content. The stuff I enjoyed the most was when it covered the severe environmental and social consequences of a culture that relies so heavily on material wealth. They used the poignant example of the fashion industry, citing things like the built in obsolescence of clothes based on trends. It became clear to me that this is simply not compatible with any form of sustainability and eventually we will not be able to keep it up forever.

The film also comments on the psychology of materialism, interviewing the likes of Sam Harris and other experts on the subject. This was interesting and for the most part, but it quite literally only scratches the surface of something that seems scarily close to the very core of our nature. Nonetheless, I still think it was a necessary part of the film because it provided the context for why we might want to think more about living simpler lives.

One assumption the film makes a little bit too readily is that owning lots of stuff or making a lot of money does not make people happy. Often we hear people saying things like "I looked at the people around me making a lot of money and I could see that they weren't happy". Well how do you know they aren't happy? Did you ask them? This brings me to my biggest criticism of this film, that it ascribes a belief system about happiness onto everybody, rarely taking into account the individuality of preference that we know exists in all of society. I am sure there are millionaires out there living in mansions who are very happy indeed, just as I am sure there are those who are not. The more interesting question is whether materialism is a more generalised problem for ordinary people, and if so why and who does it affect the most? Although the film makes an attempt to answer this, it doesn't break it down in that much depth. To me, it seems that consumerism has a clear link to socioeconomic class, and it can be at it's most insidious when poor people are lured into buying things they don't need and can't afford. This would have been a fascinating angle to look at it from, and I personally think the filmmakers missed a trick by omitting it.

My second main issue is the sincerity of the people involved in the film. It all started to sound a bit self-richeous and even hypocritical when you have people being filmed on their MacBooks or in their nice cars talking about living a "minimalist" lifestyle. In reality, I think this film is much more about conscious and balanced living rather than a radical form of minimalism. My issue is mainly with the framing of these lives as minimalist. Sure they might be more so than your average westerner, but as one man perfectly articulates in the movie, "a real minimalist would be a hermit, a recluse, a monk". He's right, they would be. After all, the lifestyle The Minimalists are promoting on their book tour is not radical, requires no real sacrifice of anything apart from excess possessions and is still inherently westernised, which I guess is why it is so attractive to people. That is not to discredit the value of such a way of life, but to call it minimalist feels more than a little pretentious, especially considering the money they were undoubtedly making in book sales and for the documentary itself.

My main issues with films like this nearly always come down to the lack of grounding and appropriate framing. What should be a concise synopsis on the merits of a quirky alternative lifestyle normally become a bit full of themselves and devolve into an exercise of hyperbole and preaching to the choir. That is my overarching problem with this documentary, the way it portrays these people's lives as better than our own, as something to aspire to, when in actual fact it is not much more than a form of neo-buddhism depicted as something profound. If the aim was to tackle the subject on a deeper level, it would have reached back into the roots of such ideas, in buddhism and other philosophies from around the world. I mean, this is hardly a new idea! As this didn't seem to be the intention, it would have been nice to see more of the practical aspect of converting to this way of living, such as the small spaces converted into quirky homes. This combined with the insights into the epidemic of overconsumption would have made for a modest manageable film, but I feel like too often it strayed into territory that it had no business being in, detracting from the other topics.

At the end of the day, you do not need to buy a book to become a "minimalist", nor is it necessarily the best way to live. This film provides a fairly strong case for such a lifestyle being something worth investigating, but I believe in people making up their own minds on what they want in life. For some it will be a simplification of their material lives, but for others it will involve embracing even greater complexity. It is far from a black and white question, it is completely subjective. I applaud the filmmakers for bringing up several very important issues that are only going to grow in relevance and impact as the 21st century rolls on, and I do agree in general that we have become lost in a vast storm of distractions, instant pleasures and pointless material goods that take away more than they give us. But we are also blessed with the power to choose our own destinies, and how we decide to express that is unique to each of us. Whether a minimalist of a maximalist, make the most of your life!

Overall: 55/100

MOVIE REVIEW: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (2016)

I still vividly remember seeing every single one of the Harry Potter films in the cinema for the first time. It always felt like one of the biggest moments of the year, and they never let me down. David Yates directed my favourite one of the lot, The Half Blood Prince, as well as both parts of the Deathly Hallows which are right up there too. I will always consider myself lucky to have grown up in the age of Potter, both the books and the films. Perhaps because I was roughly the same age as Harry as each film would come out, but mostly because the Potter universe was somewhere I actually wanted to spend a lot of time. The complexity and realness of the characters really carried the story, and you believed in the magical elements precisely because these characters were so believable. Fast forward to 2016 and we have a film that takes place in the same world, yet comes up a long way short of the originals in nearly every department.

I really wanted to like this movie. The idea sounded really cool to me. As I mentioned Yates directed some of my favourites in the franchise, and with J.K Rowling on board as the screenwriter I felt like we were in safe hands. There is not one fundamental problem with Fantastic Beasts - in fact there are lots of positive things about it. The CGI and character design were outstanding for the most part, the 1920's New York setting was gritty, if slightly bland, and a few of the performances really shone through. Unfortunately the problems are also many-fold. The most glaring of all is the script. As much as I admire Rowling, the screenplay for this film kind of has me wishing she'd stick to writing novels. It's not that it's terrible, it's just that it's mediocre, and in the Potter universe that just isn't going to cut it. Many scenes just felt inconsequential on both a thematic and narrative level, with dialogue that comes off as either awkward, sentimental or dull. There were of course several exceptions - the scene in the bar being my favourite for providing both comedy and tension in equal measure. The script never really drew me in like it always did in the Potter films, especially when it heads in a darker direction that was such a heavy feature of the originals.

The performances were also a mixed bag. Eddie Redmayne does his best as Newt Scamander, but personally I did not like his performance. Like in The Theory of Everything, I couldn't help but cringe at some of his acting, which often looked forced and unnatural. Again it's not a terrible performance, but when you're trying to live up to Potter it's very hard to make an impression. I didn't care for Katherine Waterston's portrayal of Tina Goldstein either. Not bad but too reliant on facial expressions and clichéd dialogue. The standout if there is one has to go to Dan Fogler as 'no-maj' Jacob Kowalski, a loveable New Yorker wannabe baker who acts as both the audience exposition character and the comic relief. He was genuinely funny and likeable, and gave the film the sense of humour it so desperately needed more of. His interaction with the other characters was great, but most of all with the beasts themselves, who he would always end up at the mercy of.

Speaking of beasts, they were undoubtedly the saving grace of this movie. In fact I think I would have enjoyed it a lot more if more focus had been put on the relationship between Scamander and this multitude of intricately designed creatures that he was protecting and caring for. Instead the film seemed undecided on what tone it was aiming for, on the one hand wanting to capture the awe and magic of Newt and his beasts, whilst also trying desperately hard to be as dark as the final few Potter films, to which it falls embarrassingly short. The story of Credence and his upbringing was a cool idea, but I think they saved it for a later movie, where we would have had more time to understand his character. The CGI mess in the final act, with Credence flying around as an Obscurus tearing up the streets of New York, just shouldn't have made the final cut. The subtly and ambiguity of evil was utilised so perfectly in the Potter films because of the level of nuance in the characters and the growing dread that builds through every successive movie. It's a real shame because I thought Ezra Miller could have made Credence a really fascinating character, he just wasn't given enough to work with.

One thing I admired about Fantastic Beasts is how little it relied on fan service. Apart from the passing mention of Albus Dumbledore, there was very little sucking up to Potter's legacy. Having said that, and with the knowledge that they are making 5(!) more of these things, I have to question whether the world will be interesting enough to stretch it out that much. Many will say that this was a set up film for the ones to come, but I am not going to give it a pass for that. The first two Harry Potter's had me desperate to see how they were going to approach the rest of the films, and I just didn't get that with Fantastic Beasts. Nonetheless, it was a bold move to make a film in such a beloved world without doing what so many other franchises have done *cough Star Wars cough* and simply copy the formula of previous successes, so it does get some praise for that.

Overall, Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them was just not what I wanted it to be. Ultimately it lacked a set of characters that I wanted to invest in and had a script that felt like it was trying to do too much. The result was a badly paced and tonally inconsistent film, with the odd scene here and there that really made me remember why I fell in love with the Potter universe in the first place. If they'd focussed mainly on showcasing the beasts and further developed Newt's character, my review might have been entirely different. Nevertheless I still think this is a fun family movie and it will certainly appeal to some much more than it did to me. My hopes are simply that both Yates and Rowling will take this franchise somewhere more engaging in the future. We will see!

Acting: 45
Narrative: 45
Visuals: 65
Music: 60

Overall: 54/100

MOVIE REVIEW: HyperNormalisation (2016)

Adam Curtis' HyperNormalisation takes us on a grand tour of the last 50 years in human history, but not as we're used to seeing it. In his nightmarish depiction of the world and the events that have shaped it into what we see today, Curtis's thesis is simple - all is not as it seems. This idea is far from new, but I have yet to see many documentaries attempting to be so brutally honest about the grave deceptions we have been sold, often by individuals that we may have looked up to or trusted at some point in time. What results is a film that is both bold with its assertions and accessible to almost any viewer with an open minded approach to current affairs. I enjoyed it immensely, although I did feel that Curtis occasionally drifted away from his main line of reasoning into territory that he was only willing to briefly outline, and whilst interesting, felt insufficiently explored to really add to the overall narrative.

The film starts off by laying its cards firmly on the table. Curtis tells us in no uncertain terms that the society and culture that we are living in is mostly fake, or at least, carefully engineered by those in power to fit their needs. The way Curtis goes on to present these ideas I found to be extremely engaging on both a cinematic and intellectual level. In the interest of not becoming too emotionally invested in the film, I tried to keep questioning the validity of what I was seeing, and for the most part I thought Curtis backed up his claims with clear examples and evidence. The central thread of the narrative stemmed from the idea that the East and the West had very different ideas of how they thought the world should be run. Curtis uses the case study of Henry Kissinger and Hafez al-Assad in the 1970's as a starting point, asserting that Kissinger wanted to fracture the Arab world in the interest of western expansion and the formation of a one world government. Al-Assad directly opposed this, and endorsed radical Islam and suicide bombing as a means to retain control.

Crucial to the documentary is an implication of just how much global attitudes to politics have been changing since the 1970's as a result of both world-changing events and the implementation of new technologies. He chronicles how governments transitioned from wanting to totally control the world in the 60's and 70's to simply wanting to predict and manage it in the 21st century. He clearly lays out why power was handed over to financiers and bankers in the latter half of the 20th century, and how this then snowballed into global revolutions, a reshuffling of power and a growing threat of annihalation. He takes us from Kissinger to Reagan and beyond, constantly referring back to the Middle East and specifically, Colonel Gaddafi, who Curtis argues was used primarily as a political puppet. All of this flies past us at a rapid rate, and at times I found it difficult trying to piece together all of the information that was being thrown at me. As the film progresses, we get insights into all manner of things from artificial intelligence and supercomputers to the depressing reality of growing individualism in Russia during the Cold War. All the while Curtis attempts to show the relevance of such things, and how all of it together contributed to the formation of the system we see today.

Although I found almost all of the content informative, many of the notions presented by Curtis were ones that I had heard and seen before. The rise of the alternative media has exposed much of this stuff to millions, yet strangely the alienation of the general populous seems to be at an all time high. The final part of HyperNormalistation does look briefly at why this might be, and this was the most interesting section of the film for me. The reason Curtis gives for movements like Occupy Wall Street ultimately failing is that they did not have a clear plan on how they wanted the world to be run. They had principals based in equality and social justice, but lacked the necessary organisation and vision to spark a world-changing revolution. He makes a comparable claim about the Arab Spring, which in most cases simply left the countries involved in complete chaos, with no real idea about how to organise a new society. I found it fascinating to hear Curtis argue that these "revolutions" left a vacuum of power that would soon be filled by radical Islamists, who would in turn facilitate the proliferation of ISIS. How he eventually links this back to the main themes of the film was extremely thought-provoking, suggesting that this scepticism about government in both the East and West left people feeling more confused than ever, and thus, more vulnerable to manipulation.

Curtis also touches on the role of the media in all of this, something I am personally fascinated by. Many of us, including myself, have come to paint the mainstream media as the bogeyman, responsible for controlling public opinion in a way that pacifies us. Although this undoubtedly has some truth to it, Curtis points out that even this in itself might be a deception, and that a deeper, more insidious form of manipulation is at play - one based on cognitive dissonance and politically extreme rhetoric. He uses the rise of Donald Trump to demonstrate this, showing that despite constant slander and defammation, he has only gained political traction and popularity. He even states "Trump has defeated journalism", and he is right. This was when the film ceased to be simply a set of well presented ideas and morphed into something that was truly terrifying to comprehend - the notion that even what we think we know might also be an illusion. I was reminded of 1984 and the concept of double-think that Orwell popularised. If Curtis' thesis is true, we might already be living in such a world.

At 166 minutes, HyperNormalisation might appear long, but in fact it still left me wanting more analysis and clarification on certain points. The reality of documentary film making is that you're always going to be working within time constraints, seeking to refine and consolidate almost everything into content that is palatable to a general audience. This is a good thing in many ways, and Curtis certainly does a good job at it here. I did however feel like the film was painting many of its ideas with a very broad brush. Curtis often uses phrases like "no one saw it coming" or "all of us" etc. Obviously this kind of wordage was used for dramatic effect, which is fine, but I couldn't help but feel the film was occasionally glossing over and oversimplifying issues that were clearly far more complex than they were shown to be. Again, I understand that the film spanned a very large period of time and hence could not afford to linger on anything for too long, but it must be mentioned. It would be easy to come away from such an experience feeling like you know it all, which is ironically the exact opposite of what I suspect Curtis wants people to think. In reality, the purpose of HyperNormalisation, if there is to be one, should be to spark inquiry in people who might then go on to do their own reading on these multifaceted subjects.

There were a few key topics that the film tries to incorporate into the main narrative that just come off as half baked. Two of those were the psychedelic movement and cyberspace, which Curtis uses as examples of how people are seeking alternative realities in a broken world. Both have relevance to the central narrative, but I think required a much deeper study in order to establish their true role in relation to everything else. To me they felt more like cinematic devices, giving Curtis artistic licence to veer off visually into more of the glitchy experimental editing that he seems to really relish. I don't think these sections detracted from the film per se, but they did occupy screen time that could have been spent building on other ideas.

I can't review this film without talking the visuals and editing. The great thing about the documentary medium is that the filmmakers are totally free to play around with the story they are trying to tell in creative ways. The best ones retain a defined form and sense of time, whilst also taking the audience on an exciting journey rather than just a factual walk through of important events. Curtis and his crew are clearly very well versed in the documentary medium, and as a result the experience of watching HyperNormalisation was just that, an experience. Visually, it mixes a very wide variety or archival footage, ranging from iconic clips of politicians, war-zones and news reel shots, to movie scenes and glitchy home video. Edited together in often random sequences, the overall effect was extremely disorientating, matching the tone of the narrative that Curtis attempts to follow. The editing did sometimes feel unnecessarily jumpy though, and I think having to sit through much more of it would have started to grate on me. For the most part he manages to keep a handle on a rough timeline of events, but does occasionally jump back and forth to fill in the gaps. I have no problem with this, in fact I think it is almost necessary with this kind of film because it is trying to follow so many threads at once. The use of upbeat music over harrowing footage of war and the like was yet another example of the surreal layering of the film - a technique I have seen many times before, but rarely used so effectively.

I have to give Adam Curtis huge props for making this film. It takes guts and a lot of skill to tackle so much at once and make it sound cohesive and understandable. Much of it was down to his narration, which most people in the UK will be familiar with through his other BBC documentaries. I don't think it covers much in the way of new ground, but what it does do is present a coherent thread of ideas about the world, with a sense of detachment that you don't often get with such topics. Fundamentally, if we are to talk about such emotive and divisive issues, we must do try to do so without any bias or ignorance. HyperNormalisation shows that this is very possible. I would very much like to see more of this man's work, but for now I implore everybody to go and watch this. You won't regret it.

Overall: 82/100

MOVIE REVIEW: The Double (2013)

If a film can immerse you deeply in somebody else's life, it is doing something right. In the case of The Double, I felt like I was literally breathing the same air as these characters, looking out into the unforgiving blackness of the world and feeling the same sense of confusion, anguish and disillusionment. This film tells the story of how people don't have to die to become ghosts, and that we don't have to do anything wrong to be looked upon as such. I personally found it incredibly moving to observe such an innocent character go through this unimaginable torment with no real way out of the abyss.

I have not read the original Dostoyevsky novel that this was adapted from, but everything about The Double reminded me of Franz Kafka's The Trial, as well as many ideas explored by Orwell and other 19th and 20th century writers. The film is bleak from the first frame, and indeed we do not get a single ray of sunlight for the entire thing. The opening scene felt like a nightmare, giving us a taste of the deeply troubling world that we are about to inhabit. Simon James is someone most of us can relate to in one way or another - he is essentially an introverted overthinker in a world that is only really interested in the superfluous. By contrast, his doppelgänger - James Simon, plays the charismatic charmer, somebody who everybody likes mainly because he knows how to manipulate them. In the middle of the two is Hannah, a character I expected would simply be the love interest, but was happy to see ends up being much more than that.

The main theme that I picked up on in The Double was conformity. As James begins to work in the same government office as Simon, we see that despite how different he is, he is still trying to integrate into the same system and impress the same people. Simon quickly notices that James is doing a much better job at both of these things simply by acting in a much more carefree way. One of the most interesting passages in the film for me was watching James trying to teach Simon how to to impress Hannah, who like everyone else falls for James and brushes Simon to one side. To me this very cleverly highlighted how, when we are living under such a system, we tend to undervalue traits like honesty and kindness and overvalue manipulative traits that can be masked by confidence. We see that Simon wants to be like James and Hannah wants to be with James, even though we know that Simon is the one who genuinely cares about her. The use of two characters who look identical was very effective in framing these social biases because it takes physical appearance out of the equation, pitting these two opposites against each other and leaving the audience, as well as the characters in the film, to make their own minds up about what is going on.

The story becomes incredibly sad when James' true intentions become more clear. He uses his social leverage to blackmail Simon at work and starts a relationship with Hannah, who he cheats on with another girl in the room directly above hers. Socially ostracised, Simon has no power to help Hannah, and what he does do just ends up hurting her more. With every scene in The Double, director Ricard Ayoade manages to make Simon's life seem increasingly worthless and invisible, to the point in which he is told that he no longer exists. At times I found myself wondering what point the film was trying to make - was it building to the inevitable breaking point in which Simon must stand up to this Kafkian dystopia that he is living in, or moving towards a helpless end in which he simply surrenders to it? The third act leaves this question open-ended, yet it is clear that Simon has learned one thing - to be decisive. In no way is it a happy ending, yet for the first time a little bit of truth prevails, leaving me quite moved by the whole thing.

I never thought I would like a Jesse Eisenberg performance this much, let alone like him as two characters in the same film. I think much of it is thanks to the script and direction he was given, which allowed him to play the two roles with a sense of clarity but also nuance. It reminded me very much of Sam Rockwell playing both himself and his clone in Moon, a film I also love for similar reasons. The rest of the performances in The Double were also good, but rightfully the majority of the emphasis is put on Eisenberg and his dialogue. I feel like many of the criticisms of this film may well be lodged at the cinematography, which I understand might come across as over the top to some audiences. Personally I loved it. The decision to shoot everything in low light sums up the tone of everything else in the film, and it accurately depicted the cold worlds that I had imagined in my mind whilst reading 1984 and The Trial a few years ago. The score certainly added to the suspense and was easily one of my favourite things about the movie, but if anything I would have liked to have heard slightly more of it, especially in the first two acts. Overall, the film was very solid on a technical level, with a clear visual style that made the movie play out in an almost dream like reality.

The Double has me wanting to see more of Ayoade's films. It moved me on a personal level, but perhaps more importantly has made me think about how I look at people, even those close to me. We do not live in the world that The Double depicts just yet, however I think there are things in it that most of us will recognise to a much lesser degree. Our need to conform to social ideals that we do not truly understand, and our tendency to judge those who do not fit this mould. This film shows the darkest side of our nature, and acts as a stark reminder that we must try to see things as they truly are instead of simply how they appear.

Acting: 85
Narrative: 90
Visuals: 90
Music: 80

Overall: 85/100

MOVIE REVIEW: Juno (2007)

Juno is a film that charms and delights from start to finish, with a mesmeric lead performance by Ellen Page, a rock solid supporting cast and a story that has the ability to make you both laugh and make you cry in equal measure. I didn't know quite what I was going to think about this, I normally have a hard time putting up with your typical indie rom-com, but I'd heard great things about this one and decided it was about time I gave it a chance.

We are introduced to the character of Juno as a naive, carefree teen, smarter than most her age, quick witted, yet obviously still quite immature. Her predicament is a familiar one to us 21st century humans - she has accidentally fallen pregnant after a one off sexual encounter with her dorky best friend Paulie Bleaker. I was worried that the story would progress into overtly political territory, or simply play on the stereotype of teenage pregnancy and try and find some cheap laughs in it. Thankfully, director Jason Reitman managed to sidestep these pitfalls and make a film that is both comically and emotionally engaging, with a lead character who grows up substantially in the modest 96 minutes that the movie exists within.

What impressed me most about Juno was the growth that we see young this young girl undertake. After deciding not to have an abortion, she haphazardly defaults to putting the baby up for adoption. She finds the perfect couple, Vanessa and Mark, and the main bulk of the movie is spent looking at how all of them handle the weight of responsibility that has been suddenly put on their shoulders. In the first half of the film, Juno seems rather emotionally inept to the whole situation. She is only 16 after all. We see her treating the whole thing as if it means nothing, whilst all the adults around her know and understand that this won't be as easy as it seems. The first act is where we get the majority of the comedy. Juno's father Mac, played by J.K Simmons reacts hilariously to the news, "I'm going to punch that Bleaker kid in the wiener when I see him". Juno struggles to come to terms with what it really means. She understands conceptually the true meaning of adoption, but hasn't yet realised how hard the whole thing will eventually prove on an emotional and logistical level.

The second act is where things get more interesting. Juno becomes well acquainted with both Vanessa and Mark, learning that maybe there is more than meets the eye when it comes to their relationship. Vanessa is depicted as someone who is on an emotional knife edge the entire movie, paranoid about losing the chance to adopt the baby, which eventually drives her to become very reactive. Mark is Vanessa's opposite, closer to Juno in his chilled out attitude to the adoption. I found this to be an interesting dynamic to observe, especially watching the scenes where Juno appears to inadvertently drive a wedge between them just by turing up at their house unannounced. This showed me just how fragile these kind of procedures can be to go through, and how both extremes - being too laid back or being too sensitive can lead to dramatic breakdowns in communication, or even entire relationships.

As we get into the final act and things start to become even more complicated, Juno is suddenly struck with the emotional weight of what is happening to her. What she thought was going to be very simple turns out to be the hardest thing she's ever had to go through. I think the movie really earned this emotional release and I genuinely felt for Juno as she contemplates just how much the baby means to her. It is rare that I come across a romantic comedy nowadays that respects its characters enough to give them a proper arc. In this film I think we see 3 clear character arcs in Juno, Vanessa and Mark, who all learn something about themselves as the film moves on. I also think that a happy ending is rarely given enough credit and indeed, is not always warranted, but in the case of Juno I thought it fit perfectly with the spirit of the movie and its central character.

The film would not have worked nearly as well if it wasn't for a certain aesthetic that I'm sure Reitman and the cinematographers worked very hard to achieve. The colour palette is warm and suburban, and overall it feels like a film that is making a concerted effort to be a bit quirky. This is reinforced by the acoustic soundtrack, with contributions from Kimya Dawson and Antsy Pants, among others. These deliberate hipster tropes are sure to piss some people off, and I understand why. There have certainly been films where I have lodged the same criticisms. In the case of this though, I found myself really enjoying the songs primarily because they felt well placed and spaced out, adding to the scenes instead of just being a cinematic indulgence. There is nothing that special to be said about the cinematography in Juno, but it does include some gems that you can't help but be drawn into. The title sequence was a particular highlight, which was made up of 900 hand cut images of Juno walking to the shop to get her pregnancy test.

Much of the credit for Juno has to be given to the screenwriter Diablo Cody, who wrote it based on many of her high school experiences. The script got the balance just right in terms of drama and comedy, partly I felt because there was substantial crossover between the two. The emotional scenes always had a vague comedy to them and the comic scenes felt like they were grounded in a more meaningful context, which really helped to benefit both.

The acting was of a similar caliber. Ellen Page gives one of the best performances I've seen in a romantic comedy as Juno, handling nearly every scene with equal measures of nuance and intensity. Jason Bateman and Jennifer Garner play Mark and Vanessa, and both do a good job. Garner especially gives a wonderful performance, making what could have been a really annoying character into someone that we can empathise with by the end. I thought Micheal Cera was going to be in this movie more than he was, but the scenes he is in are really good. He is sidelined for most of the it, despite being the father. I think they could get away with this partly because his character is made out to be very shy and inoffensive. By the end though we get to see him and Juno reunite, which felt appropriate and heartfelt considering what they had to go through. The supporting cast were also very good. I've already mentioned J.K Simmons, who does his thing as Mac, along with stepmother Bren, played by Allison Janney. I can't think of a single performance that felt misplaced or underwhelming, which is really unusual in a movie of this kind.

I have no major criticisms of Juno. It is not a world changing film, but it really did make me think about the complexity of issues like teenage pregnancy and adoption in a deeper way. These are topics that are easy to reduce to numbers and statistics a lot of the time, especially nowadays as rates of both are increasing. This film explores these themes with the respect that they deserve, reminding us that every case is different. Tonally, it is a pretty light-hearted movie, and none of the characters are there just to disgust or shock us, but it is also not afraid to expose the reality of such situations or the impact it has on the people within them. I often find it funny when people say that rom-coms can't be as good as more serious films. I think this is certainly proof that they can be, as long as sufficient emphasis is put on the basics - characters, story arcs and style. Juno achieves in all of these areas and many more. I implore you all to see it, and rejuvenate your love for this polarising genre of film.

Acting: 90
Narrative: 90
Visuals: 85
Music: 80

Overall: 86/100

MOVIE REVIEW: Amanda Knox (2016)

In my mind, a good documentary should do a few simple things. First, it should seek to tell the story in the most objective way possible and establish a rough timeline to fit actual events. Secondly, and perhaps more crucially, it should attempt to identify what made the story unique and explore these concepts as deeply as possible, giving the watcher a deeper or fresh insight into a real life event, story, or person. Finally, it should be engaging to watch, with good editing, visuals and sound design. In the case of Amanda Knox, the first and last of those criteria are definitely achieved. My only major issue with it was that it didn't quite find the right angle in which to frame its central subject.

The story of Amanda Knox, Raffaele Sollecito and the murder of Meredith Kercher on November 1st 2007 became the case of the century in more ways than one in the months and years after it happened. Shocking revelations, confessions, betrayals and conspiracy swirled furiously around the murder for a full 7 years before Knox and Sollecito were finally exonerated by Italy's supreme court last year. I never really knew what to think about the case, I didn't know enough about it. As the documentary tries to comment on, the whole thing was surrounded by massive media hear say, slander and brutal demonisation of Knox and Sollecito. I was hoping this documentary would shed some truth onto all this white noise, and to some degree I think it managed to. The difficulty with a story like this however is that essentially it is still a mystery. The consensus is that it was probably Rudy Guede, but the jury is still out, especially amongst Italians, many of whom were completely outraged by Knox and Sollecito's acquittal. Therefore, all this film could really do was accurately present the very long timeline of the investigation and expose some of the problems with it.

As far as I could tell, this case had two distinguishable factors that made it unique. The first was some blatently negligent and shoddy detective work by the Perugian police force. Even before the documentary began to talk about this I was starting to feel like something was wrong. Windows were being broken, things were being moved around at the crime scene and quick assumptions were being made like "the body was covered, something a man wouldn't do". It was perplexing to see what appeared to be quite a desperate team of investigators, quick to force confessions out of Knox and Sollecito using interrogation methods that were clearly unethical and even perhaps unlawful. After watching 'Making a Murderer' earlier this year, I couldn't help but be reminded of how a confession was forced out of the young and vulnerable Brendan Dassey, even though all the evidence pointed towards him not being involved. The phenomenon of apparent mind control when people are in this dangerously stressed state is a fascinating one and I wish the film had talked more about the relevance of these false confessions in the context of the overall case. The failings of the authorities were most definitely a theme, but were not explored properly until the last half an hour or so, which I thought was a bit of a shame.

The second major complication of the case was the media spin. It doesn't come as much of a surprise given the world we live in, but even by 21st century standards this story was blown up and twisted into making Amanda out to be the devil incarnate. It was almost the perfect media narrative; a young sex-obsessed American girl falls in love with a handsome Italian loner in one of Italy's most historic cities, a love triangle ensues with the girl's roommate resulting in a vengeful murder. Images beamed around the world of the couple kissing the day after the murder became the resounding symbol of this suspected crime of passion. The film does a reasonable job, albeit quite sporadically, in covering this media feeding frenzy, but doesn't linger on it long enough for us to really get an accurate sense of how it truly affected the public discourse surrounding the investigation.

What we are given is an interview with Daily Mail journalist Nick Pisa, who has received significant criticism for his exploitation of Knox throughout the trial. His words are telling, yet divulge no meaningful regret or reflection on the impact of his journalistic scoops. Through Knox's interview I sometimes felt like the film wanted us to side with her, and to see Pisa as the real enemy. Perhaps we should. If this girl is innocent then we are looking at someone who was having to endure being called a slut every day for 7 years, having every minute of her past and present scrutinised and thrown carelessly onto the front page. At one point, Pisa describes having his 'Foxy Knoxy' stories in the paper everyday as being a feeling as good as sex, revealing the sadistic and unashamedly exploitative tendencies of our news media, and the public who seem to just lap it up. The only thing about this part of the film that bothered me was how Pisa was used as the fall guy, when in actuality we all know that he is just a tiny fish in a vast ocean. The problem isn't just with individuals like Pisa, but the relentless corporate system driving what can and can't published.

The visual style and editing was done pretty competently. It mixed old footage from the time of the murder with present day shots and interviews with a multitude of people who were involved. With such a long spanning story to cover and so many people who wanted to talk about it, the filmmakers had a pretty huge pool of material to dig into. Overall they do a pretty good job at intertwining significant quotes from the interviews with the archival footage that is used to tell much of the story. Only a few times did I feel they were dwelling on one thing for too long, for the most part the experience was engaging to watch. I wouldn't say it was super entertaining, but in the case of a film like this it is more important for it to inform us, and it did that pretty well I thought.

Both the sub standard investigation and the world wide hysteria surrounding the murder made the Kercher case one of the most memorable crimes of the century so far. I respect that the documentary looked at both of them, but I think it could have been more effective if these themes had been used to frame the story as something unique. To do this they might have had to make it a bit longer, because I can't think of too many parts I would have taken out. Overall though, this is an intriguing documentary and worth a watch for anyone who wants an informed synopsis of a fascinating case.

Overall: 60/100

MOVIE REVIEW: Wall Street (1987)

I have to say it, this is what The Wolf of Wall Street could and should have been. A compelling look at the temptations and pitfalls of corporate capitalism in the big city. Charlie Sheen plays Bud Fox, our main protagonist who has just one goal, to get to the top of the totem pole. He meets Gordan Gekko, portrayed brilliantly by Micheal Douglas, a big fish on Wall Street who Bud quickly works out can help him get unfathomably rich. We also have Martin Sheen playing Bud's Dad Carl, a sweet touch to have him play both on screen and real life father to Sheen I thought. The story is one of greed, lust, betrayal and eventually, justice set in the cacophonous backdrop of New York City in the 1980's. What results is a very good film, full of entertainment value as well as deeper questions about this kind of big business.

It is one of the most fascinating questions of our age - can greed ever be a good thing? Within the context of the rise of capitalism in the second half of the 20th century, this is definitely a question that is worth asking. I think most people would say that greed is bad, yet much of our society revolves around it. We are taught to strive to reach our career goals without realising how quickly that can simply turn into entering a consumer driven rat race meticulously designed to make a lot of money and often, to make other people more money. The central themes of this film revolve around this idea of chains of greed. How your own greed can be used as a weapon by other, even greedier people, who want to use you to make themselves more powerful. Wall Street strives to tell a story about how futile such a philosophy is and just how quickly it can all come crashing down. 

The film works primarily thanks to the strength of its lead actors, Sheen and Douglas. I gained a whole new level of respect for Sheen after watching him play this slick, quick witted business man. If only he would have continued in this direction. It is not a mind blowing performance, and perhaps not as dynamic as DiCaprio in The Wolf of Wall Street, but nonetheless his character is more believable and relatable. Micheal Douglas steals the show though. Gordon Gekko is someone you would not want to cross in real life, with his palpable ferocity and persistence driving him to infinite lengths in the name of money. As he pursues his business deals throughout the film with razor sharpness, we start to understand why this man has amassed a such cult following on Wall Street. Gekko maybe leading Bud down a road toward betraying his father and friends, but he is visibly transfixed by Gekko. He has bought wholly into the delusion. The two have great screen chemistry, one of my favourite scenes being when Bud initially pitches his idea to Gekko, establishing a clear distinction of who holds all the power. He seduces Bud with the promise of unimaginable wealth, but more crucially, power. By the end of the film though, Bud has worked out what Gekko plans to do to his fathers business and sets out on a merciless path of revenge. This kind of character development is exactly what The Wolf of Wall Street lacked, and part of why this is a much better movie.

The story is engaging from the get go. I particularly liked how Oliver Stone took time to explore Bud's relationships with those around him, both in work and his personal life. It is clear that his Dad means a lot to him, and his main motivator is to make him proud. This gives Bud a certain level of basic humanity that Gekko appears to lack, and when that relationship is threatened by Gecko, Bud can't let bring himself to undermine his father's trust. There is a grave conflict in Sheen's eyes throughout the whole film, as he realises that to get to Gordan's level he must give up the most sacred of things, love and loyalty. This in essence is what the film is about. The psychotic and deeply narcissistic traits that are required to succeed in the upper echelons of business, themes explored more graphically in films like American Psycho and more glamorously in The Wolf of Wall Street. But unlike the latter, this movie knows when to reign it in and put it in perspective for the audience, showing both extremes of the human condition in similar measure. A highlight for many will be Gordan Gekko's infamous 'greed is good' speech. In it he discusses the relative merits of greed and how it captures the essence of everything that has made us who we are today. The film lets you make your own mind up about what Gekko is saying, and personally I think there is some degree of merit in his remarks, but fundamentally it is the mentality that breaks both of our main characters.

The rest of the cast of Wall Street also did a good job. I've already mentioned Martin Sheen as Carl Fox, who acts as the only real voice of reason in the entire thing as he helps to ground the movie in something deeper than money and greed. I really liked John C. McGinley as Bud's friend and colleague Marvin, who provided a fair share of comic value to the film. The love interest Darien, played by Daryl Hannah, fit nicely into the cast, and this whole section of the movie was interesting in what it had to say about money in relation to love as well as money in relation to sex. The only thing I would say is that they could have given her character a bit more depth, instead painting her as a pretty shallow person. But this in itself was probably intentional. Visually, Wall Street is classic 80's New York, with cramped offices with CRT computes and glamorous open plan apartments hosting colourful parties for the exceedingly wealthy. It is a nice looking film, but there is nothing amazing about the cinematography. It just does the job.

There is much more I could say about Wall Street but this review would end up 10 pages long. In summation, I really admire what Stone managed to achieve with this film in terms of tone and subject matter. It is not a terribly creative movie, or particularly flashy with its imagery, but what shines through is the real humanity in it. By that I mean the range of human emotions and motives that it is willing to explore. It does not lead you in just one direction, but instead leaves you to make your own mind up about the characters. There is no happy ending, just a sobering recognition that Bud must face the consequences of his unlawful actions. As the camera pans up to reveal the vastness of the city and Bud walking up the courthouse steps, we are reminded that he is just a mortal man after all.

Characters: 80
Narrative: 85
Visuals; 70
Music: N/A

Overall: 78/100