My review of the year

Yes it's another one of those end of the year lists to read (or not to read) but the great thing about cinema is that it is subjective and no one is right or wrong,we just like what we like.
So here are my opinions of the last twelve months in film, prepare to agree/curse as appropriate.

Top Ten films of the year

10) The Hunt (Jagten, directed by Thomas Vinterberg)

Not an easy watch but nevertheless an important thought provoking drama, Thomas Vinterberg’s The Hunt dissects the repercussions that one little white lie can do to an ordinary man. Arriving at cinemas in the wake of recent high profile child abuse cases in the media, the subject of paedophilia, is a mind field but we rarely see what happens when someone we know for sure is falsely accused of the crime but is unable to stop the spiral of destruction that comes from the allegation. Dutch star Mads Mikkelsen is quietly and delicately affecting as nursery worker Lucas who is accused of indecency towards his best friend’s daughter, his restraint whilst his life is turned upside down is hard to understand but beautifully played. The Hunt is one of the saddest films of the year, and perhaps one of the most frightening, as the audience we are passive and can only witness the tragic circumstances that befall Lucas. It is a film and a performance from Mikkelsen, which will stay in the conscious for a long time after.

9) Seven Psychopaths (directed by Martin McDonagh)

Chaotic? Yes. Confused? Yes. Slight of plot? Yes. But incredibly entertaining? Hell yes. Martin McDonagh’s follow up to cult hit In Bruges, is a meta narrative film within a film mash up that Tarantino would be proud of. Colin Farrell, who is much more at home and effective in Independent dramas, plays screenwriter Marty who is struggling to write a follow up to his previous hit script. He becomes embroiled in the Los Angeles crime world after his dim witted friends Billy (Sam Rockwell) and Hans (Christopher Walken) dognap Mafia Boss Charlie’s (Woody Harrelson) most loved possession-a Shih Tzu named Bonny. The script Marty is writing becomes part of the action unfolding and the lines between realities are blurred in a haze of crazy action, zinger one liners and screwball comedy. Every actor brings their zany A game particularly Sam Rockwell, who is the comedic chief nutball and the film demands repeat viewings, if only to take in its quotability factor. Not the smartest or deepest film of the year but certainly the most deliriously entertaining.

8) The Imposter ( directed by Bart Layton)

Whoever coined the term ‘the truth is stranger than fiction’ had obviously just watched The Imposter, the documentary of the disappearance of 13 year old Texan Nicholas Barclay and the unbelievable story of his seemingly ‘reappearance’ three years later. To say anymore would ruin the real life twists and turns for those who have encountered this incredible tale, so for those reading this that have not seen The Imposter, I would urge you to watch the best documentary of the year and an astounding story that leaves you on the edge of your seat. Cleverly told through the use of interviews and re-enactments, it builds to an atmospheric tension akin to a Hollywood thriller. In fact this could be on Ben Affleck’s to do list.

7) Argo (directed by Ben Affleck)

Comeback king Ben Affleck continues his assent as one of Hollywood’s best directors with his most promising work to date. Argo is based on the declassified true story about the 1980 joint CIA-Canadian secret operation to extract six fugitive American diplomatic personnel out of revolutionary Iran. With few options and running out of time, exfiltration expert Tony Mendez (Affleck) devises a daring plan: to pose as a film crew making Sci fi movie ‘Argo’ who plan to shoot scenes in Iran, and thus smuggle the Americans out as part of the production crew. Cue tense action, Hollywood in jokes and more beardy peril than you could possibly want. Affleck has assembled the best supporting cast of the year, creating a classy but thoroughly absorbing drama and the film builds up a last act that is so nail biting, I left the cinema with less talons than I went in with. And for those who saw this brilliant piece of filmmaking will know that Argo also produced the best sign off of the year….

6) The Master (directed by Paul Thomas Anderson)

P T Anderson’s latest mind game preoccupations take in the (alleged) founding of Scientology (though the ‘cause’ in the film is never fully identified) and the disillusionment of post WWII America. Phillip Seymour Hoffman chews the scenery as Lancaster Dodd, the Master of the title, who describes himself so charismatically as ‘a writer, a doctor, a nuclear physicist, a theoretical philosopher, but above all, I am a man’. Joaquin Phoenix, literally sinking to new depths of character inhabitancy, is Freddie Quell, a returning naval veteran in search of meaning who is seduced by Dodd, drawn to him but also sceptical of his methods and unable to contain his own erratic behaviour. Gloriously shot on 65/70mm film, The Master is a sublime piece of filmmaking on every level, from the direction to the Jonny Greenwood’s foreboding score. I sometimes wonder if I entirely ‘get’ a film like this but perhaps that’s not the point, by leaving me slightly cold, it also left me entirely under its hypnotic spell.

5) Life of Pi (directed by Ang Lee)

Ang Lee takes on the unfilmable bestselling Yann Martel novel and wins, creating a visual masterpiece and finally a good use for 3D. The story of the young shipwrecked boy Pi, afloat on his own in the vast ocean with only a Bengal Tiger as his first mate, is so simplistic yet draws on all the big themes of life- love, death and religion. It is also entirely enthralling using its basic structure to dazzling effect, as Pi and the brilliantly named tiger, Richard Parker learn to survive and survive each other. Life of Pi is visually stunning, many scenes look like composed paintings and the effects are truly astonishing, notably Richard Parker who is truly believable as a real tiger who will provoke every emotion from the viewer. Ang Lee has crafted a sumptuous striking adaptation and a tear jerker with real bite.

4) The Artist (directed by Michel Hazanavicius)

This may be technically a 2011 release however as UK viewings arrived in January, I am including this in my list. Though what is (ironically) left to say about this silent gem that stole the show at this years Oscars, claimed the hearts of many film fans and just may have converted some to the delights of B&W cinema. Michel Hazanavicius’ love letter to the 1920s silent era is a film of endearing delight and is something to cherish and celebrate that a film of this nature for one was made and two became so acclaimed and loved. One of the best films of the year and of the decade.

3) Martha Marcy May Marlene (directed by Sean Durkin)

Sean Durkin’s intoxicating debut marked the arrival of a new directing talent but also a major new acting talent in the form of Elizabeth Olsen, who is mesmerising in the central role of Martha, a young girl who escapes an incestuous cult but is haunted by the aftermath of her experience and is unable to adjust to normality. The film is shot between contrasting states of primitive starkness and insular dreaminess and creates a mood of dubious morals and nightmarish beauty. MMMM makes the viewer work hard but this adds to the heightened emotion of the film, one that does not necessarily reward the viewer, but punish them in the best way only this type of cinema can.

2) Rust and Bone (directed by Jacques Audiard)

Jacques Audiard’s follow up to A Prophet (2009) delivers lyrical beauty and heartbreaking performances as a boorish drifter Ali (Matthias Schoenaerts) strikes up a relationship with a headstrong Whale trainer Stephanie (Marion Cotillard) who is severely injured in a devastating accident at her work. Audiard has crafted an absorbing drama, exquisitely filmed and utterly haunting. Schoenaert manages to make his character Ali brash yet intriguing, indifferent yet magnetic. Cotillard however steals the show with a multi faceted, beguiling performance. Stephanie is the heart and soul of the film and Cotillard inhibits the role with every fibre of her being. Rust and Bone is raw, captivating and a cinematic testament to redemption and resurrection.

1) Moonrise Kingdom (directed by Wes Anderson)

Look away now if you are a Wes hater but rejoice if you are a convert because Mr Anderson is back on full form, producing the most joyous, giddy trip to the cinema for me this year. Moonrise Kingdom walks the delicate line between malaise and majesty as pint sized pen pals Suzy and Sam run away together, hiding on their home island, pursued by boy scouts, concerned parents and the local police Captain. The usual Anderson posse are here, with the welcome addition of ‘new to the gang’ Bruce Willis and an endearing Edward Norton. Combining the playfulness of youth, the exuberance of first love and the hindsight belief that at 12 years old you are indestructible, Moonrise Kingdom manages to make you simultaneously mourn the loss of childhood and bathe in pre adult nostalgia and that’s just how it should be.

Surprise of the year

21 Jump Street (directed by Phil Lord and Chris Miller)

This film shouldn’t have been as funny as it was- based on an old Johnny Depp programme that not many people this side of the shore had seen, it appeared to be just another lazy loose adaptation from a long forgotten concept (the film wittily addressed this itself). The result was a chaotic cocktail of gags and kinetic scenes, 21 Jump Street literally threw everything at the screen to see what stuck. What did was a stream of quotable lines and laugh out loud moments, making it the best comedy of the year.

The 'should have been seen by more people' of the year

Damsels in Distress (directed by Whit Stillman)

Whit Stillman’s pastiche/homage to Liberal Arts College creates a whole unique world of its own, one that would alienate a lot of viewers but deserved to be seen by more people who like their films oddball but with intelligent scripts. Greta Gerwig (on sterling form and impeccable fashion mode) leads the group of Damsels who try to better the world with their own brand of campus camaraderie, from a suicide prevention centre that specialises in aroma therapy to creating a new International dance craze. The film glides along at its own pace and beat of the drum and creates a stylish alternative to the mainstream college set movies. Lets start the campaign for the Sambola on Strictly next year!

Women of the Year

Lena Dunham
Technically not on the list as a film actress, Lena Dunham came into the consciousness this year with her HBO series Girls, a smarter, grittier anecdote to the Sex and the City generation. Through the success of Girls, perhaps Dunham’s previous directorial debut film Tiny Furniture (2010) will gain more viewers, it being the precursor to the drama series. Hailed as the voice of her generation, Dunham certainly does make a refreshing persona, not just for her much publicised ‘normal’ figure but also for her sharp writing and acute observations of modern city women.

Jennifer Lawrence
Already being a fan of Jennifer Lawrence after her affecting, bruised performance as Ree Dolly in 2010’s Winters Bone, she hit the big time this year in the blockbuster adaptation of The Hunger Games. Though she had arrived in the mainstream, Lawrence retained her integrity as Katniss Everdeen and gave young teens a heroine with balls who would not become limp at the sight of a pale moody vampire. She also gave another complex performance in David O Russell’s rom-drom Silver Linings Playbook which was a boy meets girl story with added meds and anger issues. Lawrence also became a favourite with interviewers with her no nonsense, frank attitude. The girl has got it, try not to be jealous.

Marion Cotillard
Proving she can do more than just act bat shit crazy in the films of Christopher Nolan, Marion Cotillard gave an astonishing performance in Jacques Audiard’s Rust and Bone. At this point she has been nominated for a Golden Globe however her name has not emerged as a front runner leading up the Oscars, though for me, she is my best actress of the year, giving a raw, beautiful, heart rendering turn as Whale trainer coming to terms with a horrific accident. Mesmerising is often a word banded around too lightly but in this case, for me, it was actually what she did to me.

Special mention award

Channing Tatum

For stepping out of his niche of fluffy chick flicks such as Dear John and The Vow, Channing should be awarded for his services to men and women this year with his double header of 21 Jump Street and Magic Mike. In Jump Street, Tatum proved his comedic chops and managed to make a proton hoodie look cool. He surprised a lot of people with his astute comedy timing and his ability to poke fun at his own persona. In Magic Mike, he drew on his past experiences as a male stripper to produce a film of immense guilty pleasure for many women, readdressing the hoards of films that usually cast the female as the object. It was just a shame that the drama side of the film was lost on many, too giddy on Tatum’s double whammy of body and moves. Next year sees him stretching himself further with Bennett Millers Oscar baiting drama about the life of schizophrenic John du Pont, let’s hope he can keep up the good work.

Guest Blogger and Musician Graham Collins on why Peter Strickland's Berberian Sound Studio is his favourite film of the year

Peter Strickland’s horror was an enjoyment of so many levels that it was as wonderful as it was rare to see. The film within a film, set in a 1970s Italian sound studio had layers of enjoyment from the visual element to the sound and music and the historical accuracy of subject matter and surroundings. Being someone that produces music and can be very nerdy about the equipment used to make it, the sound, music and authenticity of this film were what made it such a personal joy. The studio they inhabit is decked out in historically accurate equipment, tape machines, analogue mixing gear etc. and the technical language, comes from someone that knows.
We see Toby Jones character using a WEM Copycat, a 1970s English made tape echo to layer up vocal sounds to brilliant effect, changing the tempo and pitch of the sounds at once making ethereal if eerie drones that cascade in to a cacophony of screams, a technique started at the time and still used in modern horror. The creation of sound is an innate part of the film, destroying various fruits and vegetables in all manner of ways is the soundtracking of both films, whilst the decomposition of their remains within the studio highlights the bizarre world of Foley artistry created to achieve believable sound effects. The sounds themselves blend seamlessly into the score by the ever brilliant Broadcast. Vocal snippets and ideas found on the sadly departed Trish Keenan’s laptop to weave a harrowing and darkly beautiful soundtrack that could be as violent as it was majestic. Conventional strings or synthetic sounds are given the heave ho to allow wordless whispers and mutant electronics to entangle and draw you into Berberian’s strange world.
Entering this little known audio production coven meant opening up the opportunity for people like myself to rip the film to pieces due to its inaccuracy. The fact that it has so many elements that are true to that world, show a love and understanding that can be felt by us sound geeks. That it does this whilst creating a unique and beguiling soundtrack made this a true highlight of the year for me.


                                 
Usually I write a piece about the flops (in my eyes) of the year but I tend to avoid films that I know I will not enjoy though I am partial to watching really bad horrors and there has been plenty of them in 2012. The only two films that I can think that did not live up to my expectations were Walter Salles On the Road, which was a faithful and admirable adaptation but was missing something that is unfortunately hard to pinpoint. I also (don’t hate me for saying this) found The Dark Knight Rises a bit of a letdown, it was too long, come on it really was, too po-faced and I did not feel that Catwoman fit into Nolan’s world so well. However I did love Joseph Gordon Levitt in the film bringing a much needed bit of soul and Tom Hardy’s Bane was unintentionally hilarious on vocal duties. But minor quibbles aside, let us instead rejoice in a pretty stellar year of movies, from record breaking Bonds to Tom’s Hardigan to CGI tigers. Yes there will always be a pile of crap films getting made and continuing to get made but it is the films that remind why we love cinema that shine through like a visual beacon to excite and entertain our palette. Here’s to 2013 film friends.

Rust and Bone (directed by Jacques Audiard)

Jacques Audiard follows up his 2009 critically acclaimed film A Prophet with this bruised tale of love and redemption. Ali (Matthias Schoenaerts) is a drifter, a penniless scoundrel who turns up at his sister’s apartment in Antibes after leaving the North of France with his neglected five year old son Sam in tow. The mother is not part of the equation; she appears to be as inept at parenting as Ali, having used her son as a drugs mule. To make ends meet, Ali takes a job as a bouncer at a local nightclub, leaving Sam mostly with his sister, partaking in casual sex but also continuing to train in boxing, which he previously showed promise in. One night at the club he breaks up a fight, meeting the headstrong Stephanie (a mesmerising Marion Cotillard) in the process. A brief attraction is made but nothing more, however when Stephanie suffers a terrible accident at the marine park where she works as a killer whale trainer, she finds herself inexplicably reaching out contact with Ali. Without any question or fuss, Ali begins to help Stephanie, spending time with her, taking her to the beach and offering her uncomplicated sex, when she wonders whether she still can after her amputation. Stephanie finds Ali’s indifferent attitude to her disability liberating and accepts his offer, a tender yet undefined relationship is formed between the pair who both need something from each other, although with Ali, what he needs is not as clear at first.

 

Rust and Bone is a film that on first synopsis read sounds like the stuff of overly wrought melodrama but in the hands of Audiard it becomes something striking, visceral, poetic and above all wholly real. The direction is both immediate at times, confined and direct, but also dreamlike, swirling in a haze of blue. The cinematography blends together so astutely that often one scene ends and another begins with realising it, the use of light and sound is also used to heightened effect. The depiction of sex in the film also shows a contrast between the raw physicality that Ali exhibits with his one night stands and the tenderness he displays with Stephanie, at her insistence, though she also imposes a no kissing rule, retaining the control of the situation. The scenes of Ali and Stephanie having sex are progressive and vital to the film, showing a woman with a disability enjoying herself sexually that is rarely, if ever, seen on screen.
In a role which could, in other hands, be excessively dramatised, Marion Cotillard as Stephanie is astonishing, she is able to say so much without saying anything at all, her face encompasses so much emotion, it is used to devastating effect. In one scene, where Stephanie is being fitted in her cast for her prosthetic legs, she smiles at her sister, then the camera cuts back to her, as a single tear falls down her face, it is subtle yet heartbreaking. Ali, is more of a problematic character, he is selfish and rude and his treatment of his son at times is unforgivable, yet his honest and abrupt manner is somehow intriguing. Matthew Schoenaerts manages to make Ali highly unsympathetic yet we still want and care for him to change, even though this question hangs in the balance constantly.

The third act of the film seems a little contrived and suffers from the absence of Stephanie, Cotillard has inhibited the character so well that you miss her whenever she is not on screen. However by this time, the film has crept gradually upon you and gotten beneath the skin and is one that will stay with you for days to come. Audiard has masterfully crafted an enthralling drama, skilfully written with captivating performances and spellbinding cinematography. The soundtrack beautifully enhances the film; it even manages to make a Katy Perry song have some meaning. Rust and Bone is a stunning achievement for all concerned, one that shows from the depths of despair, a new sense of life can be found, even in the unlikeliest form.

Ruby Sparks (directed by Jonathan Dayton and Valerie Faris)

They say that with great literature the words come alive on the page, but what if this actually happened? That the figment of your imagination became reality? This is the premise for Ruby Sparks, a love story with an inventive premise but one that’s portrayal of relationships feels very real. Calvin Weir-Fields (Paul Dano) is a write, whom at the age of 19 wrote a seminal bestselling novel, which he now lives in the shadow of. Struggling with ‘second album’ syndrome, Calvin has writers block and his life is insular, lonely and he finds it hard to meet people, only spending time with his dog Scotty, his brother Harry ( Chris Messina) and his therapist Dr Rosenthal (Elliot Gould). Calvin begins to dream about a girl and, set with an assignment by Dr Rosenthal, to write something ‘bad’ he begins to pen a love story between Ruby (Zoe Kazan), literally the girl of his dreams, and himself. But the lines between reality become blurred and as Calvin spends more and more time in his imaginative world, the hint that Ruby is more than words on a page come to a head when she appears one morning in his kitchen, making breakfast as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. For Ruby, it is, as she believes she is simply his girlfriend and once a frantic, bewildered Calvin realises that he is not completely delusional and that everyone can see Ruby, he begins to relish the chance to have a relationship with the girl he wished for. Initially Calvin decides to no longer write about himself and Ruby and just enjoy the miracle he has created but as Ruby starts to become her own person and develop from the pages that she originated from, Calvin worries she may grow too far away from him and through fear of abandonment, he is faced with the morality of returning to his typewriter to keep his dream girl to himself.

 

 

Ruby Sparks is a problematic film, it wants us to sympathise with an unlikely male lead who manipulates his girlfriend’s behaviour and the films initial premise would make us believe it is a quirky fun take on the romantic comedy. But whilst Ruby is this, it also takes us to a more painful, sometimes darker place and in doing so becomes all the better for it, and most importantly, a more honest reflection of love. After all whether directly or subconsciously are we not prone to trying to change our partner’s behaviour or traits when it does not fit with our preconceived notions? Or when the threat that a loved one may be pulling away from us, would we not become desperate in our need to hold on to them, even if momentarily we ignore their own happiness? Directors Jonathan Dayton and Valerie Faris’ previous film Little Miss Sunshine (2006) dealt with dysfunctional families and now they turn their eye to the tangled pitfalls of relationships and the danger of reducing the idolised to an object. Though the film dips its toes in the malaise, the direction is kept punchy and is filled with a warm colour palette that enhances the dreamlike notion of the situation, save for one distressing scene where Ruby is goaded by Calvin with the truth about her identity. Paul Dano is perfectly cast as Calvin, intelligent but fragile, able to turn cruel in a panic but then instantly regret his actions and revert to wounded puppy anxiety. Zoe Kazan who co wrote the screenplay, manages to be the dream girl without being the stereotypical dream girl, she is fun and flirty but also retains complexities that make girls like her damn intriguing. And of course, she wears coloured tights, every kooky girl wears coloured tights (that being said I am partial to coloured hosiery myself).

 

 

The final act of the film recalls Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (2004) with the ponderous questions it raises. If you were given a second chance at love, knowing it may turn out sour in the end, would you do it? Or would you learn by your mistakes and be able to make it better the next time around? Or would you accept that nothing lasts forever and the crushing normality of domesticity eventually takes the ‘spark’ out of any relationship. Ruby Sparks can be seen as a cautionary tale of modern love or it can simply be appreciated for providing a beautifully crafted, unique romantic story. Which ever way you look at it, is up to your own imagination.

Take this Waltz (directed by Sarah Polley)

May contain plot spoilers

When is a film about romance not so romantic? Perhaps when it is directed by the mistress of malaise Sarah Polley and stars heartbreak heiress Michelle Williams. Following her feature debut Away from Her (2006), which dealt with Alzheimer’s and adultery, Polley’s second film Take this Waltz also examines relationships and the damage that time and tiresomeness with each other can cause. Michelle Williams is Margot, a travel writer, who on a recent assignment meets a handsome young man named Daniel (Luke Kirby); they have a brief flirtation and share a cab ride home together from the airport. This sparkling dalliance is cut short by the omission from Margot that she is married and then is made uncomfortably awkward by the realisation that Daniel is her new neighbour, the ponderous threat that temptation is residing right across the street. Margot returns to husband Lou (Seth Rogen) a lovable, if naively dim, cook book writer but the lingering feeling for something new haunts her and tests whether she will succumb to the desire. Take this Waltz is not an easy film to like, but that is what makes it all the more truthful and raw in its depiction of modern marriage and the unease we feel in life. Polley’s ace in the hole is Michelle Williams, who makes the, on the surface, frustrating Margot (a wife in a safe, comfortable marriage, contemplating adultery) a fully realised human being, a woman with flaws, who cannot feel contentment, something a lot of people cannot admit to themselves. Williams is such an absorbent actress, she can make an audience empathise with her even when she appears selfish and in Margot conveys the sense that she will always be searching for something to fill an unfillable void. This is encompassed in a scene where Margot and Daniel go to an amusement arcade and take a spin on the Scrambler; a ride that takes place in low lights to the sounds of The Bugles video killed the radio star. As they whirl around Margot is lost in a moment of pure bliss, a primitive state of happiness but then the ride stops abruptly, the lights rudely come on and Margot has to face the sombreness of reality again, Williams face capturing the disappointment to perfection.

Sarah Polley’s treatment of the subject matter is handled with great assurance; it does not depict its story with over dramatics, but with the crushing subtlety of internal conflict. There are is no real bad guy in the narrative; we cannot demonise someone who struggles with themselves more than with their relationships. There are however moments were the script falls prey to clunky metaphors, the confession from Margot to Daniel that she uses wheelchairs at airports because she ‘doesn’t like connections’ or the fact that Lou can only write recipes about chicken, his inability to look past the adequate. There is also a deviation in a scene where Daniel describes to Margot what he would do to her sexually, that feels too crude and out of balance with the rest of the film which derails the mood momentarily. But minor missteps aside, Take this Waltz is an honest, touching film with another heartbreaking turn from Williams, it could serve as a Prozac inducing companion piece to Blue Valentine. Credit should also be given to Seth Rogen, who dials down his usual goofiness, proving particularly effective in a scene where he realises his wife’s head has been turned, the camera remains on his face, jump cutting between the many reactions and emotions that come from heartache. Polley’s film leaves us with more questions than it answers, as Margot finds out that perhaps the grass is, literally not always greener. As one female comments in the film ‘new gets old’ and so does the inevitability that you cannot outrun your own malaise. As Margot takes a ride on the Scrambler, this time alone at the end of the film, an air of ambiguity lies, will she ever be content or will she be capable to overcome her fear of ‘connections’?

Killer Joe (directed by William Friedkin)

Kentucky Fried Movie

“I don’t want people to enjoy this film” said William Friedkin of his latest cinematic work, and whilst the director has always been known to court the press and in turn the censorship threshold with his malevolence, he may just have a point with Killer Joe. The story of a white trash trailer park family of no good cheaters and liars is a Southern fried noir with a literal nasty taste to it, however it is also bleakly and darkly funny view of inept misfits in a hopeless situation. You may not like yourself for sniggering but sniggering you just may do. Killer Joe tells the tale of the Smith family, a bunch of lowlife losers, living off junk food and beer and years of possible scams to make more money. Ansel the father, (Thomas Hayden Church) is a worthless, yet harmless lay about who paves the way for son Chris (Emile Hirsch) to act like the patriarch of the family, albeit in a reckless and rough fashion. Stepmother Sharla (Gina Gershon) is a brazen pizza waitress with a side order of adultery, leaving the youngest of the clan, the wide eyed innocent Dottie (a mesmerising, childlike Juno Temple) as the only beacon of light in this dank, dirty set up. Yet the inevitable sense of desolation tells you it is only a matter of time before she too is corrupted.

When a desperate Chris returns to the family trailer, in dire need of cash to stop a hit on him due to a bungled deal with the local drug boss, he comes up with a double indemnity style plan to solve his wretched situation. His seedy saviour is Killer Joe (a delightfully dark Matthew McConaughey), a police detective with an unorthodox sideline in contract killing, whom Chris plans to hire to murder the family’s biological mother who all but abandoned her kids, and so claim a $50,000 life insurance policy that is due to befall to Dottie. Enlisting hapless father Ansel into the mix, who latches onto the unfamiliar scent of a big payday, their plot is hit by the significant snag that they are unable to pay Joe upfront for the job, his fee due to come from the insurance pay out. But Joe comes up with a sinister lifeline, having taken a shine to the virginal Dottie; he proposes to use her as a ‘retainer’, to do with what he pleases, until the insurance comes through.

Based on the play by Tracey Letts, Killer Joe retains much of the claustrophobic stage setting by placing most of the scenes within the Smiths cramped home and though the film does leave the confines of the trailer park for a few exterior scenes, you continually get the feeling that there is no escape, that all roads lead back to despondent gloom. There will be no happy endings and predictably no one gets away clean as the plot unravels before the family’s eyes. Friedkin takes this fairly simplistic premise that has been used in various incarnations in previous noirs, and turns it into a startling uncomfortable, tar black humour filled thriller. The film borrows sombre shades from directors David Lynch with pseudo sexual maniac Joe and The Coens in its redneck goofiness and double crossing deals. Cinematographer Caleb Deschanel creates a magnetic backdrop of the Texan landscape which is barrow and rundown, the odd twinge of guitar creeps into the soundtrack to add to the creepy brooding tension. All the cast excel, they become so ingrained in their personas, that it is impossible to imagine anyone else in their roles, particularly Juno Temple as Dottie, her girlish mannerisms and doll eyed cherubic nature is all the more haunting when she is seduced by Joe in a particularly disconcerting scene. The casting revelation comes from Matthew McConaughey however as the titular Joe, sticking two thumbs up to the romcom mush he has been treading water in for many years. His Southern drawl used to hypnotic effect, a snake like presence that is repulsive in his actions yet impossible to take your eyes off. And yes he does take his top off but all thoughts of buff sex symbol McConaughey will be forgotten when he is taking advantage of an underage girl and using sexual violence to get revenge.
Much has been made of ‘that chicken scene’ and there are many explicit scenes not for the easily offended and faint hearted, the film taking an accelerated turn as it sprints to the finish line, but it does so with such sly wit and mischief that you cannot help but be drawn into the madness. Go with Friedkin’s messed up ride and you will ‘enjoy’ the anarchy. Sure, you will from now on shudder each time you pass a KFC, but is that an entirely bad thing?

My Favourite Movie of the Year....so far

Moonrise Kingdom (directed by Wes Anderson)

 

 

All reviewers of a new Wes Anderson film have to address, the Wes-ness of a Wes Anderson film. He is a director who brings a unique visual style to each of his features, one that the term Auteur was meant for, his work brimming with distinction. His is also one that the term Marmite was meant for, you either embrace the fantastical world he creates or recoil at the kookiness of it all, longing for the days that when Bruce Willis played a cop in a film, it was violence in a white vest and not as a buttoned down officer of a remote island. This reviewer falls into the former category, revelling in the intricate details and oddball characters that consume his cinematic microcosm, whilst also being astounded (and a smidge jealous) that he manages to not only get away with very quirky concepts, but also making them feel somehow natural. Few filmmakers can pull off this fine line act but Anderson does so in spades… the clever jerk.

Though whilst his last film Fantastic Mr Fox (2009) was an animated match made in heaven, Wes’s narrative proclivities suited beautifully to the stop motion technique, his previous effort The Darjeeling Limited (2007) was a slight misstep, verging towards indulgence without the real emotion that he usually balances so well. However with Moonrise Kingdom, Anderson is back to his best, in a film that threatens to be the best of his career.

Moonrise, is set on an idyllic New England island in the summer of 1965, a haven for eccentric characters and blossoming love. Amongst the island is a ‘khaki scout’ summer camp lead by Edward Norton’s endearing scout master Ward and where one of its troop, Sam Shakusky, flies the coup (in an entertaining homage to a certain prison film) to run away with his beloved pen pal Suzy Bishop. Sam and Suzy are troubled children, two idiosyncratic 12 year old misfits, each with their own bag of neurosis at such a young age. When Sam meets Suzy the previous year at a church performance of Noye’s Fludde by Benjamin Britten, the two remain pen friends and make a pact to run away together the following year on the island. They head to a secluded cove on the edge of the island but in hot pursuit are his scout master Ward and the rest of the khaki scouts, the local police Captain Sharp (Bruce Willis) and Suzy’s parents Walt (Bill Murray) and Laura (Frances McDormand).

What follows is a kaleidoscope of scenes, dreamily enveloped in tawny and sage colours with a hint of 60s colour pop, etched with oddities and wistful recollections of the bittersweet terrain that childhood crosses. The two young star crossed lovers Suzy and Sam (played endearingly without any hint of precocious annoyance by newcomers Kara Hayward and Jared Gilman) display the naivety of adolescent first love, the zest for adventure and the freshness of youth, yet they have a wisdom beyond their years, affected by their surroundings and upbringing, Sam being an orphan, Suzy labelled as a girl with ‘issues’.

The two unknown child actors are complimented, rather than overshadowed by the rest of Anderson’s troupe who are all pitch perfect. Edward Norton undoes a lot of the bad work he has previously created and reminds us that he can be fun. Bruce Willis meanwhile shows he can do subtle as the buttoned down Police Captain of the Island, his tentative relationship history with Frances McDormand’s Laura serves as a counterpart to the dizzy defiance of Suzy and Sam’s courtship. It is also a treat to see Bill Murray and Bruce Willis share the screen for the first time in a small but affecting scene. And whilst Tilda Swinton, wonderfully known simply as Social Services, doesn’t get much screen time as the slight villain of the piece, she does make her usual classic presence felt while rocking a nifty cape and bonnet.

Anderson has pulled off one almighty achievement in creating such a dotty, playful movie but one with an emotional chord that slowly creeps up on you. By the time you leave the cinema, the feeling of enjoyable glee is tinged with the sudden realisation that childhood is gone and you ache and mourn for that period in your life, when you were a kid and could take on the world, the fearlessness and the fervent spirit of youth. Moonrise Kingdom is a film made with the heart of a 12 year old, in fact it seems we are watching a film made by Wes Anderson’s adolescent self (albeit one with his usual wit and flair). The feeling of innocence and love is overwhelmingly infectious and the portrayal of a moment in life that was pure, reminds us that whilst that time has passed, it lives on in our memories, like the titular haunt of Moonrise Kingdom, (and in turn, the film itself) it is a place that will live on in a nostalgic beautiful sublime haze.

Grease is the Word

Over the past few years Cinema Sing-a-longs have become something of a big hit with audiences, where people can go to watch their favourite film with bells on. Those bells being karaoke lyric tracks on the screen so everyone can sing to their favourite songs, while added visuals pop up to prompt the audience. There is also the inclusion, in some cases, of a goodie bag with various items that can be used at certain parts of the film and the emphasis on encouraging the viewers to come in fancy dress as their favourite character. The most popular of those cinematic hybrids have been Mamma Mia (I literally cannot think of a worse punishment to bestow on someone) and The Sound of Music (am I the only one that feels that a theatre full of pretend nuns is a scary prospect?).

My first experience of this mad mad world came last weekend when I went to a Sing-a-long with Grease night at the Empire theatre in Liverpool with two fellow pink ladies and one hopelessly emotive Sandy. I have quite a lot of affection for the movie, though no where near as much as many of my fellow theatregoers, and our own Sandy wanted to play out a lifelong dream to be Ms Dee so I decided to give it a go. We had our ‘Summer Lovin’ Sandy, as perky and naive as they come. We had our Rizzo, who was definitely the most, ahem, experienced of us all. We had our Frenchie, the sweetest and most loyal of the bunch. Then there was me, as Marty, who yes is somewhat of a two bit part, not the most memorable of the pink ladies but she did have a few choice lines, a natty perchance for neck scarf’s and was less likely to be imitated on the night, due to her lower ranking in the pink lady food chain.

Dressed in our finest Grease attire, for which I may add we were very faithful to the costumes in the film, we headed to the theatre, after some much needed alcoholic reinforcements. The street outside the Empire was awash with a sea of Rydell High Affiliates, with varying degrees of effort, some hen night gangs who had just thrown on a pink jacket over their clobber to some beauty school girls sporting magnificent domes of silver barrelled rollers atop their glittery creations. The cluster of pink and polka dots continued into the foyer where also sadly roomed no young John Travolta tinged studs but middle aged Danny Zukos after working on too many cars and eating too many cheeseburgers, though at least there were some men there at all and they had made an effort, which stopped the whole night looking like an episode of Loose Women on crack. After grabbing some more fuel (aka alcohol) and some lovely sweets from an old fashioned cart, we ushered into the theatre room to take our seats, amidst a gaggle of hysteria, costumes and chaos.

Our compeer for the evening was again a not so in his prime Danny, who had hastily thrown on a leather jacket and quiff wig to take to the stage, though he did receive a rapturous applause from the baying crowd. Danny then did his best Butlins entertainer routine as his went through the ‘rules’ for the evening, how to perform the hand jive and the contents of the goodie bag. So we had to swoon whenever Danny came on screen (the real one not the later life version), we had to boo when bad guy crater face came into frame, we had to make catty noises for Rizzo and so on and so forth. Our little bag of tricks contained props to help us along our merry journey, including hankies for the weepy Sandy solo ‘Hopelessly Devoted To You’, a chequered flag for the drag race where T Bird Danny takes on crater face (my personal favourite item of the night) and a bag of pretzels, supplied by the sponsors of the event, who were randomly a pretzel company. Then came the slightly annoying part- the fancy dress competition. Butlins Danny welcomed all to come and join in the competition to win a dubious selection of prizes, and an array of colourful characters took to the stage, including our very own ‘Summer Lovin’ Sandy. For whilst there was a range of outfits from the inspired (Eugene!!) to the ridiculous (since when did the pink ladies dress as school girls with face paint and knee high socks?), the annoying part was that no matter how faithful you were to the original costumes, you were never going to win against a five year old dressed in a Ra-Ra skirt. And this leads me to my biggest grumble of the event- children, don’t get me wrong, I am not one to deprive a child of a cinematic trip, but this perhaps should have been part of a matinee performance, rather than letting an infant stay up on a Friday night in a room full of women being encouraged to thrust their hips provocatively at the screen. The tone of the evening seemed at odds, one minute we were maintaining a family friendly atmosphere by editing the word cream from the lyrics to ‘Grease Lightning’ and the next we are shaking our pelvis’ faster than Elvis at Vegas.

But inappropriateness aside, I threw myself into the spirit of the night and while I tried to watch my language, I soon forgot about the children, two of whom I was probably blocking the view of the screen anyway, due to proximity behind me. As someone who usually can't stand it if people chat during a film, it was an interesting, and welcome change to actually be encouraged to whoop and holler at the screen, which our party did with gusto. Things got rather messy at times, when a crowded auditorium are all trying to dance in the aisles at the same time, things are going to go awry, but it was a truly fun, immersive experience and a new way to watch a beloved favourite film. It was also great to see our Sandy enjoying her favourite movie, once she got past being called soppy Sandy, much to her chagrin. When somebody gets to knock something off their bucket list, it is an infectious occurrence.
And so we bopped and jived through the film and the night, ending in a crescendo of party poppers bursting as Danny and Sandy fly (?) off into the sunset.

We left the theatre, many worse for wear ladies and duff Dannys spilling out into the streets of Liverpool and our time at Rydell was over. As we drove off into the sunset, we however didn’t take off into the air, we clutched our bags of pretzels with a smile on our faces from the evening’s frivolities.
Reflecting on my first time at a Sing-a-long event, I hung up my pink lady jacket and while I was hoarse of throat, I was filled with memories of a weird but wonderful time.

Now if only they can do a Bugsy Malone one……

Sell out of the Month April Edition ( by guest blogger Simon Wilkinson)

Jeremy Renner

Simon Says:

Please don’t get me wrong people. I love Jeremy Renner; he’s a brilliant, gifted and charismatic actor. Hawkeye? No Jeremy, not again! Fair enough you play it with style but twice? Along side an Aussie Thor? Where are you going to draw the line with Marvel?
Oh, and lest we forget you are “taking over” from Tom Cruise in the Mission Implausible franchise and you’re playing a similar role in the upcoming Bourne Legacy. You’ve got to make your money when you can in the Hollywood game but you can only put your fingers in so many pies before one gets burned.

How long is it going to be before they cross over the Mission Improbable and Bourne universes and you end up fighting yourself in a Star Trek style finale?
Jump ship Jezza, get outta there and don’t do any more sequels. Although we know it’s where the money is.

I say:

Jeremy, Jeremy my very own Jeremy, I have felt like you were my own charming indie discovery since watching you in little seen gem Twelve and Holding (check it out, it really is a treat). But Hawkeye did always seem like a strange choice for you and the thought of you continuing the Bourne movies when they seemed tied up and done is a bit disappointing but let’s review the evidence for the defence.
Renner has been somewhat overlooked in recent years, when he should have been given more recognition, his intense turn in the criminally underrated The Town has all been but ignored and whilst his blistering performance in The Hurt Locker garnered plaudits, it was Bigelow that took all the glory (though this was indeed deserved as well). And what actor, deep down, wouldn’t want the chance to live out a childhood guilty pleasure fantasy of starring as a superhero in a big action film?
We cannot also assume that Renner is taking over the Mission Impossible franchise, yes it’s been hinted at but this has not been confirmed yet. But even if he does, should he not enjoy a slice of the action pie and make a bit of money since he is still not a household name and is pushing 40, coming late to the game by Hollywood’s standards.

Verdict: Not quite a sell out at this point in time I’m but keeping my (hawk) eye on him.

What I watched last night

Film 4

Gentlemen Broncos (directed by Jared Hess)

When you watch a film by Jared Hess, you either embrace the oddball universe he creates or you don’t, if you are the type of person who avoids a signpost marked ‘Quirky Town’, then its best to keep on driving. Like fellow director Wes Anderson he surrounds his films with kooky characters and whimsical plot devices, though his world is less bourgeoisie and a little more lovably yokel. Hess’ debut film Napoleon Dynamite was a cult phenomenon, its central character became a left field icon, it was an eccentric yet charming creation with its own unique humour.

Hess’ third feature film Gentlemen Broncos, which premiered on Film 4 last night, did not follow in Napoleons footsteps, it was intended for release in October 2009 but due to poor reviews, it limped straight onto DVD and quietly disappeared into the rental wilderness.

The film follows the malaise adventures of introverted teenager Benjamin Purvis (Michael Angarano) who writes science fiction novels and lives with his mother (Jennifer Coolidge on sweetly dippy duties) who designs odd clothes and makes hard popcorn balls. Benjamin attends a writing camp for aspiring fantasy novelists, where his idol Ronald Chevalier is lecturing and who announces a competition for the writers where their story will be published nationally. Chevalier (Jermaine Clement sounding like a egotistical Michael York) is a narcissistic writer who has run out of ideas and is on the verge of being dropped by his publishing company. When Benjamin submits his fantasy novel Yeast Lords, centred on a hero called Bronco, Chevalier steals his idea, changing the novel slightly by turning the central character into a transsexual, and the book becomes a hit. When Benjamin discovers that his idea has been plagiarised, he must prove that Yeast Lords was his original story whilst also battling the perils of adaptation as he had previously sold the rights to his book to a couple of amateur filmmakers.

That’s the gist of the plot but does not encompass the whole host of fanciful ticks that Gentlemen Broncos throws at the screen. Each character is peculiar in different ways, the style phases are set to 80s twist and the soundtrack ranges from Black Sabbath to Cher. When any of the characters are reading the story Yeast Lords, the book comes to life in suitably retro fantasy sequences, starring Sam Rockwell as the hero Broncos. This is a film where Rockwell rides a fake deer, has his testicle stolen and dresses in a yellow wig and lipstick, so like I said not for everyone, though Rockwell proves he can do anything and looks like one of the most fun actors to be around. Michael Angarano meanwhile, looking like Colin Farrell’s younger nerdier brother, gives a puzzled film some heart and someone to root for.

Whilst the film is confused, often going too far into the realms of nonsense, there is some grin-inducing appealing moments, sci fi geeks will enjoy the pastiches on the genre and the literature satire provided by the disillusioned Chevalier. It should also be applauded that in a time of bland studio movies, something so gleefully original ever got the green light and saw the light of day, though confidence in the film was not in abundance and its poor reception was inevitable. On first viewing, Gentlemen Broncos does not have the enduring quality of Napoleon Dynamite but is the type of film that could, and should find its natural home on DVD, a future cult hit waiting to happen, one for Conchord fans, Sam Rockwell lovers and those who like to take a walk on the weird side. Happily I am all three of those things.

Review- 21 Jump Street (directed by Phil Lord and Chris Miller)

Lets be honest, the prospects for 21 Jump Street as a film do not look good on paper. Based on a late 80s American TV Show, which didn't really take off this side of the pond, it stars Jonah Hill, who seemed to have lost his comedic edge along with the many pounds of weight he dropped (The Sitter anyone?) and Channing Tatum, who is more at home in soppy lovefests like Dear John and The Vow.

Though it would be a little cruel to say the film is far funnier than it deserves to be, it is a welcome surprise to find that 21 Jump Street is a very entertaining, wild but nostalgic comedy ride.

The plot, which is loose and slightly superfluous, sees former high school classmates ‘nerd’ Morton Schimdt (Jonah Hill) and ‘dumb jock’ Greg Jenko (Channing Tatum) become friends when they both enrol in police academy and help each other with their shortfalls to graduate, Schimdt helping Jenko with his studies and Jenko motivating Schimdt with the physical side of the force. However they are assigned to the demeaning role of park patrol and bundle their first crucial arrest, due to not reading the criminal his Miranda rights, a running joke that continues in the film. They are assigned to a ‘revived’ programme from the 80s where police officers are sent undercover in high schools to crack crime; this is a nod to the original TV Series and also sets up a nifty in-joke that may be lost on some of the younger audience not familiar with the origins of the film.

Schimdt and Jenko are sent back to school posing as teenagers to infiltrate the supply and production of a new unstable synthetic drug being used by the students, however their identities are accidentally switched with Schimdt having to pretend to be the popular track star and Jenko becoming the science nerd. This effective plot device sets up many of the comedic moments of the film but the turn of the table personas also fractures the friend’s relationship. Schimdt relishes the chance to be part of the in crowd when he is befriended by the ringleader/school drug dealer Eric (Dave Franco, sounding exactly like his brother, but looking a bit more rat faced) whilst Jenko struggles with no longer being the ‘Prom King’, being shunned by Schimdt and the hipsters and with having to wear a chemistry themed hoodie.

One of the many surprises of 21 Jump Street is the chaotic nature of the comedy, in many high school based movies the jokes follow a familiar pattern but in this script they literally throw everything and anything at the screen and see what sticks, of course some of the jokes fall short of the mark but with such a frenetic pace the gag rate is very high and somewhat random too. In one particular scene when Schimdt and Jenko have to take a sample of the teen drug, as a sign of trust to dealer Eric, they experience the effects of the stimulant, resulting in physical comedy but also psychedelic, leftfield imagery taking the sequence to another level. The other surprise, nay revelation, is Channing Tatum, the actor who is the teenage girl’s pinup of choice, usually street-dances off his good looks and frequent resilience to wear a shirt, but this time gets a long overdue chance to flex his comedic muscles. Tatum impresses as he manages to be dim but likeable, handsome but sensitive and nerdy but cool all in one. Hill meanwhile uses his well worn routine of awkward man child but in this film is used to good effect. There are quirks to the script that also give the film an offbeat charm, Dave Franco’s cool kid Eric is not a token bad boy but an earth loving preacher and the film manages to instil a feeling of school nostalgia, making you want to part of self righteous Eric’s gang, the peer pressure of popularity rears its every present head.

The films climax at the school prom is inevitable but satisfying, with a third act cameo that will get giggles on one level but deeper laughs on another level and whilst the movie ends naturally, you can’t help but feel for once, a sequel may be welcome. Spending time in the company of a couple of Bromantic losers has never been such fun.

Sell out of the Month (by guest blogger Simon Wilkinson)

Liam Neeson

Simon says:

Fair enough, we forgive him every time because it’s Liam Neeson. You have got to love him right? We have seen him in such cinematic gems as “Clash Of The Titans” dressed as Brian Blessed, and he’s recently graced our screens punching wolves and wearing a jumper, but we forgave him. It’s Liam, it’s okay, he’s a good actor. Right? Well yeah, he is, but we need to face facts. Having witnessed the trailer for the upcoming CGI laden train wreck that’s traversing towards your nearest multiplex “Battleship” sorry it’s “BATTLESHIP” (spelt with a “p” on the end, not a “t”) all caps lock so it looks “MASSIVE”!! You’ve gone too far Liam, we can let all the other cash grabbing monotony slide, but this is where the line is drawn. You do look nice in that navel suit in the trailer might I add, but why didn’t you jump ship when they cast Rihanna? Just imagine all those teenagers pointing at the screen and saying, “Isn’t that the guy from “Taken”?” Come on Mr. Neeson, do everyone a favour and play a character again instead of playing that guy from “Taken” over and over again then running to the bank with your big fat pay cheque. And don’t get me started on your turn as an Irish Zeus. We love you Liam, but it has to stop before you end up going straight to the DVD shelf with Mr.Seagal.

I say:

Ah Liam I want to defend you, I really do but when I see that you have signed on for Taken 2 ( in which you get kidnapped this time and your fricking sissy ass daughter saves the day!) you don't make it easy for me. Men, wolves, ships with aliens beware, he will find you, he will kill you and he doesn't need luck, just a regular gig as everyone's new favourite unlikely hero.

However the Neesonator is willing to poke fun at his own image, anyone who saw his recent cameo in Ricky Gervais' 'Lifes too Short' will know he can be gleefully self deprecating, using his steely persona and straight laced acting style to comedic effect. But there is a fine line between self parody and parody punchbag so while you still carry some acting kudos, please take a break, stop signing on for sub standard action flicks and have a much needed holiday.

Just make sure you avoid Paris, ships and January Jones.

Verdict: Has a chance to pull it back but is selling out at a rapid pace.

DVD Review- Sleeping Beauty (Julia Leigh)

Lets make things clear and get this out of the way-forget the connotations that you associate with the above words because this is about as far removed from Disney as you can get.

The sleeping beauty of this movie is a girl who is drugged (though not against her will) and falls into a sleeping state so that men can outlive their fantasies next to her naked body while she is unaware of what is happening- like I say, Disney this ain't.

Julia Leigh's film begins with university student Lucy (Emily Browning) taking part in a drug trial, from the opening scene of the young girl forcing a test tube down her throat, it is clear that she is willing to subject herself to a less than comfortable position to earn some extra money. As she spends time between studying and arguing with her flatmates, her cash flow problem prompts her to respond to an advert in the paper, the requirements of the role however are not entirely clear. She attends an 'interview' at a private estate where she meets the Madame of the business Clara (Rachael Blake) is told the nature of the role, to provide silver service waitressing in provocative underwear for rich clientele, and is given an abrupt and intrusive body examination. Despite the dubious circumstances , Lucy takes the job and is soon earmarked for a more intense but higher paid role, her glacier beauty and diminutive frame catching the eye of the older gentlemen. She is asked to perform the role of a metaphorical sleeping beauty, to be drugged asleep for a whole evening, to lay naked in a bed and for men to spend the night with her in that bedroom so they can act out their desires with no fear of guilt as she is comatose beside them (the one rule however is that they are forbidden to penetrate her).

Leigh's film is problematic in many ways, the most obvious one being a lack of empathy for the lead character Lucy. She is cold and distant, her beautiful but emotionless face gives nothing away and though Emily Browning (a long way away from Lemony Snicket) bares herself literally for the role of Lucy, she is as impenetrable as the character herself. This could be argued to be the point, an air of detachment must be favourable to commit to such a sordid method of work, but this stops the viewer from any connection with her plight. When we see her visit her hermit, flat bound friend Birdman who is suffering an illness (the type of which is not disclosed but hinted at alcoholism by the fact that she uses gin instead of milk on his cereal, the only way to get him to eat), this is the only time Lucy shows signs of emotion. She weeps into his arms but as their relationship is not defined and because of the previous despondency of Lucy, it is hard to illicit any emphatic connection.

The other major problem with Sleeping Beauty is what it is trying to say as a film, it is a well shot oblique piece of work but too indifferent to be effective. Initially it would appear that we are to feel that Lucy, due to her wish to better herself at university, is a exploited victim of a financial predicament but her actions do not reflect this, she displays an uncommitted disregard to her studies and when she begins working as the sleeping beauty, she does not use the money wisely, looking for accommodation she carelessly rents an overpriced unsuitable apartment in a whimsy devil may care style. Lucy also does not display any signs that her sexually degrading role shames her, she is a promiscuous young women, and while it is not a sin to be erotically forward, her brief encounters with men seem hollow and sad, this is what she seems to want but does not make her happy. As a female viewer this does not provide a feeling of womanly empowerment nor does it create a compassion for this young woman, it is an ambiguity that makes the film too misanthropic.

This said, the film is not an entirely squandered exercise. Leigh's visual style shows promise, a sparse allure akin to Michael Haneke,particularly the effective final shot which owes a debt to Haneke's feature Hidden and the setting shows a different side to contemporary Australian cinema, one that is not often seen on the screen.

Sleeping beauty is a film that will divide people, many will see it as an icy achievement but for many, like myself, they will see this as a aloof, cold affair, a fairytale that is too grimm for many tastes.

Review- Martha Marcy May Marlene (directed by Sean Durkin)

The feeling of belonging, to be part of something, to feel significant is a powerful emotion, one that can often misguide our judgment at the cost of gaining some salvation. Sean Durkin's debut film Martha Marcy May Marlene explores this idea when a young girl with no direction in life and no close family finds herself embroiled in a semi religious incestuous cult and the aftermath she faces returning to everyday life.

The film begins with scenes from a rural commune, people tend to gardens, young men fix barn roofs, the women lay the table for the men, this at first glance could simply be a naturalistic community fending for themselves in a back to basics style (the only initial hint that something is amiss is when then women are not allowed to eat before the men). Then the mood shifts as a young girl Martha (Elizabeth Olsen) tiptoes out of the compound and, when is spotted, flees into the neighbouring woods, where she is chased by members of the commune, this sounds like the set up to a horror flick but is something much more terrifyingly real. Martha is caught up with at a diner by one of the young males, but she is not physically forced to return (there is however a psychological threat) and she calls her estranged sister Lucy (Sarah Poulson), whom she has not contacted in 2 years, who lets her stay with her at the holiday lake house she shares with her husband. It is here where Martha tries to readjust to normal life whilst still haunted by paranoia that the cult are going to catch up with her, that they are still watching her every move.

The film does not present a chronological order of how and why Martha came to be part of the commune, instead it seeps in memories of her time there, the slightest sound effect sparks a remembrance, the past and present overlap with subtle effective similarities, her actions trigger recollections of the place she has left. An ill advised skinny dip in the lake is inter cut with images of the commune members naked, all bathing together in an enclosed stream. An even more unwelcome move from Martha happens when she enters her sister's bedroom whilst she is making love with her husband and lies on the bed next to them, much to their dismay and horror. This gives way to a flashback of Martha going to lay with the leader of the cult Patrick (John Hawkes) in his room, her previous experience and her unease with sleeping means she does not see the harm and inappropriateness of her actions of disturbing the martial bed.

As Lucy and in turn her husband find it increasingly difficult to deal with Martha's odd behaviour, Martha herself begins to lose her sense of what is really happening, her ordeal is still too raw and present.

The life in the cult at first seems one of harmony and togetherness, if a little too insular, but as the film teases more and more glimpses of their world, it becomes more and more sinister. It is one of sexual abuse, the women have to undertake an initiation which they try to justify as a 'cleansing' but is actually a drug induced act of rape and the girls are weened off their past lives in a discreet systematic way, given nicknames (Martha becomes Marcy May) that seems a friendly part of the lifestyle but disconnects them from their former existence. For the film to work, we have to believe that the cult leader is someone who would warrant following and one who instills a hypnotic power and John Hawkes' Patrick does just that. Whether he is delivering dubious philosophy ("Fear is the most amazing emotion of all") or playing his guitar in a fatherly manner for his disciples (he sings a song about 'Marcy May' furthering her inclusion) he is utterly and frighteningly believable as a authoritarian messiah, with Hawkes giving a commanding performance.

But this is Elizabeth Olsen's movie, as Martha/Marcy May she is a compelling memorable presence, fully committed and fearless in her portrayal of a young women who encompasses a range of emotions, from child like naivety to steely determination, when her behaviour wavers on the incomprehensible (she goads her broody sister by telling her she will be a terrible mother) she still elicits empathy and is softly bewitching. In terms of acting she is a million miles away from her squeaky sisters and is one to watch for the future. Also promising is director Sean Durkin, with his debut film, he has crafted a intensely beguiling film, one that makes the viewer work for its evasive appeal, his creates a hazy dreamlike scape that is balanced with a stark, primitive world. What is also admirable is that Durkin does not give any resolute answers to his psyche puzzle, it is a habitat that we will not come to terms with, some of the members of the cult truly feel at home in that environment, something that we cannot comprehend and one that is perhaps the most chilling of all. The final scene may be too ambiguous for some tastes but it is one that encompasses the entire position of the the film, not to distinguish the reasons why but to glimpse a fractured young woman, a soul in turmoil, that is a haunting in a beautiful tragic way.