Month / Apr 2019

by James Turrell

They Shall Not Grow Old

Writer & Director: Peter Jackson 

‘It was the smell of death. If you’ve ever smelt a dead mouse, it was like that but a million times worse.’ Peter Jackson’s latest, extraordinary film contains many desperately poignant insights into the First World War. But what comes across most, even above the sheer humanity of the soldiers who tell their story, is the brutal reality is that all wars are defined by death, and most of the dead lay forgotten by history.  

With They Shall Not Grow Old, Jackson seeks to remedy that reality, and does so remarkably. Given over 100 hundred hours of footage from the First World War by the British Museum, Jackson used the latest computer techniques to change these often 10 or 18 frames per second, black and white footage, into full colour widescreen glory. The scene in which the old, rickety footage suddenly opens up, stretching into widescreen like a flower into bloom, is one of the most remarkable things you are likely to see in the cinema this year, or perhaps ever. Suddenly, the men telling their story morph from indiscreet figures from something akin to a broken British Pathé newsreel to fully formed human beings. It’s a stunning transformation; history is taken from black and white shackles and recreated to feel as real as the present. 

There is no strict narrative but the film ambles along from the men signing up for duty to returning home once the carnage had finally dissipated. We see the day to lives of the soldiers; what they eat, how they survived the horror, the kindness they exhibited to each other. I was stuck by the pre-war naivety of the soldiers, who seemed to regard signing up like joining the Boys Brigade and one of soldiers described early 20th century men as such, ‘men didn’t think for themselves at all in those days.’ There are many shots of brutalities in the film, whether dead soldiers or butchered horses, and Jackson makes excellent use of external warfare sounds to recreate some semblance of the terror the soldiers must have felt. 

They Shall not Grow Old may be the greatest cinematic achievement of Jackson’s career. He has, as close as you can, recreated a historical moment before our eyes. Watching this film, you will have no idea why the First World War began or ended but you will have an intense, often heart-breaking understanding as to what the lives of the men who lived and died in those trenches was like.

10/10 

by James Turrell

Gloria Bell

Writer & Director:  Sebastián Lelio 

Following on from last year’s excellent Disobedience, Sebastián Lelio has taken on what must be one of the more bizarre directorial experiences, the English language shot-for-shot remake. In this case, Gloria Bell is a remake of his own Spanish language film Gloria originally released in 2013. In this version, the ever-wonderful Julianne Moore stars as the titular Gloria, a 50-something divorcee who has flung herself without anxiety into a world of dating, dancing and secret smoking.  

Gloria Bell’s narrative essentially follows her relationship with supposedly recently divorced Arnold, played by the icy John Tuturro, and the frequent and rib-jolting bumps their relationship takes. The opening sequence is the film in microcosm; as the camera pans down, we see room full of middle-aged love seekers awkwardly dancing to an 80’s DJ set, the soundtrack to their original youth into which they are now having to re-enter. From the first shot of her as Gloria, Julianne Moore is sublime; it’s a deeply felt, intimate portrait of a woman, while at some level lonely, thoroughly enjoying her life.  

Gloria’s life is very much defined by activity. She goes dancing, to yoga, to some kind of hipster laughing class and to dating evenings. Lelio’s depiction of middle-age is one in which spontaneity has dispersed, to be replaced with by-the-hour fun. But these activities, repeated throughout the film, take on profound meaning. As the film progresses Gloria’s interaction with these activities begins to reflect her emotional state. Her dancing, which first represented her romantic and sexual desire, by the end reflects her freedom. This is also reflected in Lelio’s direction, as we see repeated mirror frame shots of certain aspects of Gloria’s life, like singing in the car, and these repeated shots allow us to see Gloria’s emotional progression throughout the film.  

Gloria and Arnold’s relationship is strange, mainly due to Arnold’s emotional instability. He refuses to introduce Gloria to his daughters and seems determined to keep their relationship removed from all other aspects of his life. The reasons for this become apparent during the film’s climax. He is also prone to engaging in emotionally noxious behavior, such as calling her every five minutes during a break-up. Their sexual relationship is presented starkly by Lelio and there is a certain empowerment to seeing a clearly defined 50-something woman enjoying a fulsome sex life. But there is one shot, in which Arnold and Gloria are in bed talking, and Julianne Moore’s breasts are exposed. It is obviously there to show the intimacy between the two characters, but it struck me as unnecessary and overly gazey.  

But overall, Gloria Bell is another excellent addition to Lelio’s already impressive oeuvre. He has knack for representing experiences that are not his own with a tender and realistic touch. Julianne Moore’s fantastic Gloria is a wonderfully drawn character, filled with joy and sadness and desperation and hope. The film’s final sequence is glorious, as Gloria tells Arnold to do one in an act of brutal but hilarious revenge.Gloria Bell is a heartfelt but unsentimental surprisingly sensual look at middle-aged life.  

8.5/10 

by James Turrell

If Beale Street Could Talk

If Beale Street Could Talk 

Writer & Director: Barry Jenkins 

Moonlight winning the Best Picture Oscar in 2017 was supposed to be a watershed moment in which the dusty Academy threw off its white, middle-aged shackles and begin to acknowledge and reward the wonderous diversity that is much of modern cinema. And that idea was proved right and now we can no longer imagine a time in which a person of colour or a woman will not win the major awards.  

HA! Just kidding! You can use your Green Book to guide you all the way down Reductive Avenue. Green Book’s win was an inevitable, insipid choice made all the more galling by the admission of Barry Jenkin’s latest film, If Beale Street Could Talk from the nominations. Based on the novel of the same name by James Baldwin, Beale Street is a heart-breaking romance set amongst a racially charged 1970s time period. We follow the lives of Tish (Kiki Layne) and Fonny (Stephan James) as they come to terms with becoming expectant parents as Fonny languishes in prison for a crime he did not commit.  

The narrative is non-linear, switching between now and then with graceful deft, as we sweep between the present of the Tish’s pregnancy and the past of their blossoming love. Jenkins is shaping up to be a master storyteller; someone who weaves intense, serious political ideas through the lives perfectly crafted characters. Fonny is imprisoned after being accused of the rape of Victoria (Emily Rios), he is falsely accused and framed by a racist police officer who had a previous vendetta against him. This is perhaps Beale Street’s greatest accomplishment; we know from the outset that Fonny has been falsely accused and the films’ narrative is funneled through Tish and her family’s attempt to clear his name. But it never, for a single frame, lessens or trivializes the crime against Victoria. Her pain, the gaping schism caused by the attack is portrayed with frank sensitivity. When Tish’s mother Sharon, played to stunning perfection by Regina King, goes to visit Victoria in attempt for her to convince that it was not Fonny who committed the crime, she tells her with a brutal, understated knowing; ‘I’m a woman and I know what women know.’ The film delicately portrays both the endemic sexual violence against women and the institutional bigotry that causes black men to be imprisoned at astonishing rates.  

The love story between Tish and Fonny is gorgeous. It’s pure, sun-drenched cinema love and the glowing, often woozy lighting created by Jenkins and cinematographer James Laxton embody the sensuous connection between the two characters. Jenkins’s visual style also reflects the intensity of the relationship, as the camera seems to always linger on the face of the person not talking in a conversation, and we occupy the position of a besotted lover. The performances from Layne and James are wonderful, they each portray the love and desperation that defines their characters, as their relationship begins to stretch and ultimately nearly crack as the vicious society in which they live becomes ever more tethered to them. Regina King has rightly won plaudits for her performance, as the dignified but grieving Sharon and for those of us who grey watching The Big Bang Theory, it’s all the more remarkable. Nicholas Britel’s score is equally remarkable, a swooning, string laden that shifts, like the film, with ease from romantic to frenzied anger.  

If there was any doubt, with Moonlight and now Beale Street, Barry Jenkins has cemented his place as cinema’s premier storyteller. His unique visual style with its super saturated but not sickly colours and the way he manages to entwine bracing political statements with nuanced character driven stories should leave everybody’s jaws somewhere close to their shoes. The film is tragic, and the ending is a stark reminder that when the American state becomes involved in the lives of black citizens, it will often end with spilt blood or years lost behind metal. If Beale Street Could Talk is glorious nonetheless and two hours spent in the company of Tish and Fonny’s relationship is proof that, in the right hands, romance can be portrayed with a visceral intensity that feels fantastical but utterly human.

10/10