Review #1,444: 'A Cruel Romance' (1984)

Eldar Ryazanov's A Cruel Romance is a true gem of Soviet cinema; an under-seen period piece set in 1877 that is lavish, funny and devastating in equal measures. The bulk of the action is set in the fictional town of Bryakhimov on the bank of the Volga River, where many merchant men have made their fortune and now seek a wife. The Ogudalovas were once the richest family in the area, but now matriarch Kharita (Alisa Freyndlikh) struggles to pay her mortgage after the death of her husband, but still mingles with society's higher-ups in the hope of finding a husband for her three daughters. Two of them are now married, with the wedding of second daughter Olga (Olga Krasikova) to an overbearingly jealous prince from Tiflis opening the film. This is all witnessed by Larisa (Larisa Guzeeva), the most beautiful and desirable of the Ogudalova sisters, who is happy to see her sibling sail off to a new life, but feels shame at the thought of being sold off like property.

Larisa is the last remaining singleton, and there's no shortage of suitors, despite the fact that she will come without a dowry. The richest merchant in town, Mokiy Parmenovich Knurov (Aleksey Petrenko), harbours strong feelings towards Larisa, but he is married and too old. Perhaps better suited is Larisa's childhood friend Vasiliy Danilovich Vozhevatov (Viktor Proskurin), but he is not quite rich enough to take a bride without a dowry. Yuliy Kapitonovich Karandyshev (Andrey Myagkov), a postman of low social status, is madly in love with Larisa, or perhaps with how such a beautiful woman will feed his ego. Yuliy frequents the parties thrown by Kharita in the hope of convincing her, but is usually left embarrassed or overshadowed by the more charismatic men at the events. Yet Larisa only has eyes for one man, the rich, handsome and exciting Sergei Sergeyvich Paratov (Nikita Mikhalkov), a travelling merchant who surrounds himself with music-playing gypsies who utterly adore him. After spending a wonderful evening together, Paratov suddenly sets sail without saying goodbye, leaving Larisa at the mercy of the increasingly obsessive Yuliy.

Told in two parts, the first segment roughly covers the span of a year, while the second is merely a day and night. Larisa's sweeping romance with the reckless Sergei and his subsequent disappearance is a more personal story of a poor woman's seemingly hopeless search for love, while part two, which sees Sergei return and plot his seduction, makes larger statements about Russian society as a whole and the type of men that rot it to the core. As the merchants get together at a dinner party hosted by Vasily, these powerful, intelligent men toy with the drunk postman like an ant under a magnifying glass. It's often incredibly funny but uncomfortable to watch, and these brilliantly-acted scenes help build a sense of impending doom, particularly with the way Knurov watches over the Ogudalova family fortune like a vulture and plots Larisa's future like an all-knowing puppet-master. While it creeps slightly into melodramatic territory near the end, A Cruel Romance is a gorgeous costume drama with a ravishing score and haunting cinematography, capable of both sweeping you up into its arms and delivering a few cruel blows along the way.


Directed by: Eldar Ryazanov
Starring: Larisa Guzeeva, Alisa Freyndlikh, Nikita Mikhalkov, Andrey Myagkov, Aleksey Petrenko, Viktor Proskurin
Country: Soviet Union

Rating: *****

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,438: 'First Man' (2018)

Fifty years have passed since the Apollo 11 mission sent three astronauts into outer space and onto the surface of the moon for the first time in the history of mankind. The arrival of First Man, Damien Chazelle's part-Neil Armstrong biography, part-NASA procedural, naturally raises the question of whether the U.S.'s greatest achievement in still relevant in today's political and economic upheaval. Rather than taking the chest-puffing, flag-planting patriotic route to reassure people that America is still indeed great, Chazelle's turns this story - which isn't just about Armstrong - into a celebration of the efforts of everybody involved in the space program, and how they overcame incredible odds to finally set foot on the moon. The brave souls involved did so with the knowledge that a mere loose wire or an unforeseen spark in the electrics can spell certain death, and that nothing but a rickety wall separates them from the warmth of the cramped cockpit and the infinite darkness of space.

Chazelle puts us on edge from the get-go and straight into the adrenaline-fuelled life of an astronaut, as Armstrong, played by Ryan Gosling, struggles to re-enter the atmosphere while piloting the X-15 rocket plane. It's a masterclass of editing, sound design and cinematography, as the death-trap rattles and clunks while alarms blare in the background. And then, it's silence, as the blue clouds come into focus and we touch down in the desert. It's a trick performed time and time again by Chazelle and his technical staff, carving a clear but thin line between peril and safety, as well as allowing the audience to breathe again. The various missions and tests carried out as NASA prepares for the incredible (and beating the Soviets in the process) are captured with expert precision, keen to recreate these real-life events with painstaking accuracy, while injecting these moments with enough cinema magic to keep the palms sweaty. I'd love to hear Neil deGrasse Tyson's thoughts. A special mention must also go to composer Justin Hurwitz, whose otherworldly score - which employs theremins and synthesizers to hark back to the sci-fi B-movies of the 1950s - creates a strange, unsettling mood, bursting into glorious life when the final moments arrive.

But First Man isn't just a matter-of-fact account of NASA's finest hour. While some key players are somewhat drowned out (Pablo Schreiber's Jim Lovell makes a somewhat fleeting appearance and Corey Stoll's Buzz Aldrin is painted as little more than an arsehole), this is also an incredibly personal story of an introverted man whose mind seems to be away with the stars long before he leaves Earth. Haunted by the loss of his young daughter, Armstrong is quiet and straight-laced, even addressing his own sons like press at a news conference. It takes a special actor to pull this off, and Gosling seems to excel when playing the silent, stoic type, radiating charisma with a mere glance and emoting so much when doing so little. The film takes a slight detour into schmaltz with a sub-plot involving Armstrong carrying the bracelet of his dead daughter, but given the central character's withdrawn nature, it's easy to understand why Chazelle felt that it was required. There's also solid support from Jason Clarke as Ed White, Kyle Chandler as Deke Slayton, and Claire Foy, who is given a bit more to do as Janet Armstrong than the wives-at-home usually get in astronaut films. With time, First Man will be the definitive moon landing movie. While it's a stunning procedural, Chazelle directs the thing like a conductor, forging a spiritual journey in a world that laughs at the idea of feeling God's presence.


Directed by: Damien Chazelle
Starring: Ryan Gosling, Claire Foy, Jason Clarke, Kyle Chandler, Corey Stoll, Pablo Schreiber, Shea Whigham
Country: USA/Japan

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,422: 'Outlaw King' (2018)

For all its thrilling battle scenes and quotable dialogue, Mel Gibson's Braveheart was hardly a textbook of historical accuracy, particularly with the way it seemed to promote William Wallace as Scotland's one and only saviour, and relegated the future king, Robert the Bruce, to coward and turncloak. A movie to set the record straight always seemed inevitable and necessary, but it took a long time coming. 23 years after Braveheart took home 5 Academy Awards, David Mackenzie's biopic of Bruce, Outlaw King, has finally arrived. It almost works as a quasi-sequel to Gibson's crowd-pleaser, beginning with the King of England gathering various Scottish nobles to sign a peace treaty that will signal an end to the fighting and climaxing with a bloody battle at Loudoun Hill. Times have changed since 1995, and Mackenzie seems intent on infusing the story with a gritty realism and greater attention to historical fact, meaning that there'll be no defiant final cry of "Freedom!" here.

Premiering at the Toronto International Film Festival and released on Netflix two months later, this sullen tale of bearded men going at each other with huge swords sets out to impress from the very get go. The likes of Robert the Bruce (Chris Pine), his father (James Cosmo), and their main rival for the Scottish crown John Comyn III (Callan Mulvey), have been summoned to the tent of Edward I (Stephen Dillane) to metaphorically lay down their swords and accept the invading English as their rulers. The camera glides across the room as they exchange pleasantries between gritted teeth, before moving outside for an impromptu sword fight between Robert and the Prince of Wales (Billy Howle). Filmed in one continuous take, the scene ends with the King demonstrating his power with his newest weapon, a ginormous catapult, which he fires into the besieged Stirling Castle. Both Edward and Mackenzie are showing off here, but its a thrilling moment nonetheless, and if anything is a sure sign of Netflix's intent to flex their own industry muscles. It propels the film into a breathless first half, as Robert defies the English by crowning himself King after Wallace is executed, and takes his threadbare army off to war.

The story moves at a relentless pace, with Robert suffering catastrophic defeats at the hands of both the English and rebellious Scottish clans, and his following grows increasingly smaller. Following these early skirmishes, Outlaw King struggles to fully engage, and this is mainly down to the portrayal of Robert himself. Pine is a highly charismatic actor with some serious chops (just look at Mackenzie's previous film, Hell or High Water), but the film never really seems sure of how to portray him. He leads his men from one battering to the next, and we never really understand why his troops stick with him. He marries Elizabeth de Burgh (Florence Pugh) for political reasons but they end up falling in love, with the outspoken Queen of Scots clearly seeing something in her husband that we cannot. The same can be said for one of Robert's most fearsome warriors, James Douglas (Aaron Taylor-Johnson), who amps the testosterone levels significantly in a foaming-at-the-mouth performance that borders on cartoonish. The highly engaging first hour is still enough reason to give Mackenzie two hours of your time, and fans will at least be treated to a Chris Pine full frontal. Just don't expect Outlaw King to subvert the historical drama in any way and try to enjoy it for what it is: a bruising adventure that school kids can enjoy when it's movie day in history class.


Directed by: David Mackenzie
Starring: Chris Pine, Aaron Taylor-Johnson, Florence Pugh, Stephen Dillane, Billy Howle, James Cosmo
Country: UK/USA

Rating: ***

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,408: '22 July' (2018)

British writer and director Paul Greengrass has spent half of his whole career documenting real life tragedies with equal amounts of verve and respect. The likes of Bloody Sunday, United 93 and Captain Phillips were equally difficult to watch and to look away from, paying tribute to those caught up the real-life events, who are likely still living with the traumatic memories, yet delivering an emotional, visceral cinematic experience at the same time. The two styles should contradict each other, but they really don't, and it's what makes Greengrass a special film-maker. But even he couldn't escape the controversy that came with his latest film, 22 July, a re-telling of the 2011 terrorist attack on Norway's Utoya island, an event still fresh in the minds of anybody old enough to remember the news reports. Is the film simply too soon? And does a Brit even have the right to try and make sense of a Norwegian tragedy?

22 July arrives mere months after Erik Poppe's Utoya: July 22, a Norwegian production that placed a fictionalised character at the centre of the massacre as it unfolds in real-time using one long take. Poppe's movie was even more controversial, raising questions about the ethics of applying such cinematic flair to an event that still feels like an open wound to many. Greengrass is more concerned with the aftermath: how Norway reacted as a country and how the actions of Anders Behring Breivik are still felt throughout the world. The massacre itself, which took the lives of 69 people attending a Labour Party youth camp, is mercifully short, but undeniably horrifying. One attendee in particular stands out: the bright, articulate and well-liked Viljar (Jonas Strand Gravli). We first meet him delivering a short speech about the ethnic diversity of his own town, speaking out in favour of everything Breivik hates. At the same time Breivik, played with a haunting steeliness by Anders Danielsen Lie, has posted his online manifesto and is fitting a home-made bomb to a van outside the Prime Minister's office. Whilst on his journey to Utoya, Breivik had already murdered 8 people.

Viljar survives the attack but is left blind in one eye and with bullet fragments lodged dangerously close to his brain. While Breivik is processed through the courts, Viljar provides a much-needed ground-level view. Through Viljar, 22 July also finds its emotional beats, as his physical and emotional recovery builds towards a final confrontation in court, where Breivik is also granted the opportunity to say his piece. The system may have given Breivik some time in the spotlight, Greengrass certainly doesn't, at least not in the way the delusional, self-styled "leader of men" no doubt envisioned. It commends both due process and Norway's refusal to allow events to descend into a circus. As a result, Breivik is systematically broken down and disarmed, and if the film is ultimately about our truly dark times, some satisfaction can be gained by watching a monster stripped of his delusions of grandeur. Greengrass trips up with his decision to shoot the film in accented English, going half in the right direction by casting unknown Norwegian actors but stopping short of full immersion. For such an otherwise authentic document, it's a baffling decision, but 22 July is still brave, powerful film-making that reminds us with genuine concern of what little has changed since that day seven years ago.


Directed by: Paul Greengrass
Starring: Anders Danielsen Lie, Jonas Strand Gravli, Jon Øigarden, Maria Bock, Thorbjørn Harr
Country: Norway/Iceland/USA

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,399: 'The Scarlet Empress' (1934)

With the Motion Picture Production Code or, to give it its more popular name, the Hays Code, introduced in 1930 to ensure that cinema didn't corrupt the morals of the American populace, many directors came up with ingenious ways to find loopholes in the code, or employ cinematic trickery to create an illusion of what the Hays Code considered amoral. Some directors, however, seemed to ignore the Code completely, and somehow got away with it. Josef von Sternberg's The Scarlet Empress, a deliberately provocative piece celebrating the sexual freedom of one of history's most enigmatic figures, Catherine the Great, seems to go out of its way to annoy the censors, yet the film remained miraculously untampered with. To say that von Sternberg takes liberties with his artistic license would be a vast understatement, but The Scarlet Empress was the director's "relentless excursion into style," to quote the great man himself.

If this was made today by the BBC, I'm sure that Ofcom would struggle to deal with the scale of complaints. The film begins with Sophia Frederica (Marlene Dietrich), the young and beautiful daughter of a German prince, who is summoned to Russia by the Empress Elizabeth Petrovna (Louise Dresser) to produce an heir for the Grand Duke Peter (Sam Jaffe). She is informed by the handsome, womanising Count Alexei (John Lodge) that the Grand Duke is strong and handsome, with thick locks of ebony hair. Of course, this isn't the case, and when Sophia finally arrives at her new home, Peter emerges as a grinning halfwit unfit to father a child and even less suitable to wear the crown. Renamed Catherine by the Empress, the seemingly wide-eyed innocent bride-to-be embarks on an affair with the rogueish Alexei, and turns her seductive eyes to the soldiers of the Russian army. While the Grand Duke is busy drilling holes into the wall of his mother's bedroom with twisted Freudian curiosity, Catherine starts to plan her ascension.

Every scene is a feast for the eyes, with lavish interiors, fetishistic costumes, suggestive shadows and doors so thick and heavy they require a run-up to close them dominating every frame. It suggests an oppressive, backwards country in real need of new ideals. The tables, walls and chairs are all sculpted to portray monstrous figures: some are gargoyles, and some seem to be people contorted in the grips of death. It's a horrible place, and von Sternberg chooses to juxtapose this with Catherine's sexuality, as her confidence and desire increase with every scene. The way von Sternberg does this is undeniably seductive, further sensationalised by his obsession with Dietrich's flawless face. You wouldn't be able to tell if she is even a good actress from this, as von Sternberg often chooses to express the character's feelings without the need for dialogue. A long, lingering look through a closing door suggests a burgeoning desire, and the flickering of a candle as Catherine's breathing becomes heavier shows her lust. How The Scarlet Empress didn't cause more of a stir I'll never know, but we are better off for it. If you want a quick-fire history lesson then check Wikipedia, but if you seek a rich, gothic atmosphere mixed in with thick layers of eroticism and rich, exquisitely-detailed visuals, then this ticks all the boxes.


Directed by: Josef von Sternberg
Starring: Marlene Dietrich, John Lodge, Sam Jaffe, Louise Dresser, C. Aubrey Smith
Country: USA

Rating: *****

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,364: 'The Stranglers of Bombay' (1959)

The closing title card of this lesser-known title from Hammer's back catalogue reads "if we have done nothing else for India, we have done this one good thing." Referring to the British East India Company's governance over India for over a hundred years, The Stranglers of Bombay depicts the disappearance of thousands of India's population at the hands of the 'Thugees', an organised gang of murderers and thieves who operated relatively undetected for more than 600 years, and how their operations were eventually brought to an end. It is a subject that would no doubt be handled more delicately if tackled today, and I'm sure that those sensitive to modern PC standards may be somewhat offended by the film, but Stranglers is well-balanced and ultimately apologetic for the Company's occupation, finding a positive note in what was a barbaric time.

Captain Harry Lewis (Guy Rolfe) of the East India Company is the only person interested in the reports of over a thousand disappearances, attempting to bring the mystery to the attention of his superiors. However, Colonel Henderson (Andrew Cruickshank) is more concerned with solving the mystery of how English merchants' caravans are similarly disappearing without a trace. To get Lewis off his back, Henderson agrees to an investigation, but opts to hand the reigns to the inexperienced and pompous Captain Connaught-Smith (Allan Cuthbertson). Frustrated at Connaught-Smith's bungling and the general disdain he has for the Indian people, Lewis quits the Company to carry out his own inquiry, and uncovers a murderous cult who make sacrifices in the name of their god, Kali. Led by the High Priest of Kali (George Pastell), the gang's influence goes all the way to the very top, which is how they have managed to remain in the shadows for centuries.

The Stranglers of Bombay is low on horror but higher on adventure. The violence is implied rather than shown, but the film doesn't shy away from their grotesque acts. Eyes and tongues are removed, but most are garrotted with a ceremonial silk scarf. It's off-camera, but nevertheless effective. When the action is away from the thugees, the story plays out more like a period detective thriller, as Lewis plunges himself deeper into this secret world while the population denies the group's very existence. It's no surprise then to learn that frequent Hammer collaborator Terence Fisher is behind the camera, who would always shoot efficiently and make his films appear more expensive than they actually were. The absence of Christopher Lee and Peter Cushing is almost always felt when watching a Hammer horror, but leading man Guy Rolfe proves to be a perfectly watchable leading man, earning our sympathy as the one decent white man in a company of incompetent and uncaring fellow officers. While more attention could have been given to the suffering of the Indian people, the film's heart is certainly in the right place, making it one of Hammer's most interesting, while not their most thrilling, entries into the genre.


Directed by: Terence Fisher
Starring: Guy Rolfe, Allan Cuthbertson, Andrew Cruickshank, George Pastell, Jan Holden
Country: UK

Rating: ***

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,352: 'Missing' (1982)

The Hollywood debut of Greek director Costa-Gavras caused quite a stir when it was released in 1982. Based on a true story, Missing is a damning condemnation of U.S. foreign policy, criticising their efforts to locate missing American citizen Charles Horman (John Shea) when he goes missing in 1973 Chile, as well as suggesting their direct involvement. The country had just experienced a military coup, and the new leaders have declared martial law, placing a curfew on the population under threat of death. The sound of machine-gun fire is commonplace, as are military raids on homes and the disappearance of thousands of citizens. Worst of all, bodies litter the streets, watched over by dead-eyed soldiers who seem to do as they please. Charles, a left-wing writer, has simply vanished, sucked up into a system of brutality. And nobody seems eager to find him.

We're with Charles for a long period before his disappearance, and Costa-Gavras keeps us just as much in the dark as his wife Beth (Sissy Spacek) and father Ed (Jack Lemmon), the latter arriving frustrated with the little progress his daughter-in-law has made. Their ideologies clash almost immediately. Beth is very much on board with her husband's politics, while Ed is a devout Christian scientist with complete trust in his country's Embassy's desire to locate a fellow citizen. The performances are genuine and heartfelt. The characters themselves are recognisable and relatable in an otherwise terrifyingly alien, oppressive world, which serves as a wake-up call to Ed, who would otherwise be eating breakfast at home oblivious to the plight of Chile's people. The most powerful moments of Missing involve Ed battling his way through waves of bureaucracy and the empty promises of diplomats.

Costa-Gavras manages to build an atmosphere of relentless tension in a place where failing to find yourself a taxi to make it home in time for the curfew could see you dragged away for execution. Yet this is built around Ed and Beth's difficult relationship, and the film emerges and ultimately triumphs as a thoroughly engaging character study rather than a political thriller. Tiny, throwaway moments hammer their struggle and mental anguish home, particularly a moment where Ed descends a set of stairs and, without realising it, starts to ascend the one opposite. It takes a moment before he realises, shakes his head, and turns around, and you really feel for the guy. Costa-Gavras deliberately infuses Missing with a sense of timelessness, failing to confirm the story's year and location, introducing the idea that this could be happening anywhere, at any time. Coups and dictators come and go, and the people suffer for it. Those who choose to ignore it may eventually become the cause.


Directed by: Costa-Gavras
Starring: Jack Lemmon, Sissy Spacek, John Shea, Melanie Mayron, Charles Cioffi
Country: USA

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,326: 'The Post' (2017)

Steven Spielberg's The Post is the great director's most handsome film in years. Shot quickly and clinically while he waited for the effects to be finished for Ready Player One, the film, if anything, is a sign of just how masterful he is at his craft. Starring A-list heavies Meryl Streep and Tom Hanks, The Post tells the story of the Pentagon Papers, leaked by disgruntled military analyst Daniel Ellsberg, which revealed that the President knew the war in Vietnam could not be won early on in the conflict. Many young men were drafted anyway, and sent to their deaths half a world away from home. The New York Times had the story first, but were threatened with a court injunction in an attempt to halt the publication of a series of planned articles which would damage the reputation of many high-ranking officials, including the President himself.

It's a story Spielberg felt needed to be told now, and for good reason. There are many parallels to the modern day, only nobody here is forced to live out their days hiding in an Ecuadorian embassy or assassinated with poison. When The Washington Post is handed the story themselves (by a hippy girl who dumps a package on the first desk she sees), editor-in-chief Ben Bradlee (Hanks) immediately decides that the revelations must be released to the public. Being the intelligent man he is, Bradlee had long suspected that the Times had their hands on something huge, and refuses to be silenced by the government of a country whose right to free speech is written in its very constitution. The Post depicts the newspapers search to locate the source of the leak, and Bradlee's relationship with publisher Kay Graham (Streep). The heiress and socialite has her own reservations about the newspaper's upcoming stock market launch, and how the Papers will affect the reputation of her close friend Robert McNamara (Bruce Greenwood).

There's an earthy, smoky quality to the 1970's-set The Post. Spielberg manages to capture the sweaty urgency of some of the great movies to emerge from Hollywood in its greatest decade, with All the President's Men being the most obvious comparison. In a world now filled with information at the swipe of a thumb, it's exciting and invigorating to see Ben Bagdikian (Bob Odenkirk) spills his pay-phone quarters onto the floor as he desperately searches for a pen, or the sight of Ellsberg (Matthew Rhys) holed up in a motel with thousands upon thousands of printed pages stacked all around the place. The large ensemble, which also includes Sarah Paulson, Tracy Letts, Carrie Coon, Jesse Plemons, Bradley Whitford, Alison Brie, Michael Stuhlbarg and David Cross, is impressive across the board, and although its hardly a stretch for such seasoned screen giants, Streep and Hanks - the former a fumbling yet oblivious feminist icon and the latter a cranky but good-hearted fighter - help the film to be incredibly watchable. It doesn't offer any further insights into a story many will already know, and Ellsberg is somewhat sidelined, but The Post is a timely stance against anyone looking to threaten the right to free speech and the freedom of the press.


Directed by: Steven Spielberg
Starring: Meryl Streep, Tom Hanks, Sarah Paulson, Bob Odenkirk, Tracy Letts, Bradley Whitford, Bruce Greenwood, Matthew Rhys, Alison Brie, Carrie Coon
Country: USA/UK

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,309: 'Darkest Hour' (2017)

2017 saw cinema give us the complete Dunkirk experience: first with Christopher Nolan's ground-level, soldiers-eye view of one of the main turning points of World War II, and later with this, Joe Wright's Darkest Hour, told from the point-of-view of the stuffy politicians back at home shouting at each other in dark rooms. While over 300,000 brave men waited for evacuation as the German army closed in around them, Winston Churchill had just been sworn in as prime minister and was left with the unenvious task of dealing with Adolf Hitler, a man Churchill's predecessor Neville Chamberlain had been hoping to strike a peace deal with. As history tells it, Churchill knew the futility of trying to reason with a murderous tyrant and that the only outcome was war, but he had to rally his cabinet and deal with the Dunkirk situation at the same time.

Simply put, Darkest Hour is pure Oscar-bait. Ignoring the question of why yet another biopic of one of Britain's most iconic historic figures is needed in a year that had already seen the Brian Cox-starring Churchill, this is another shameless entry into the ongoing series of middlebrow British period dramas which also include fellow awards-favourites The Queen and The King's Speech. Sparing us the full biopic treatment, Darkest Hour starts in 1940 just as Churchill is chosen to lead the country in the wake of Chamberlain's ousting. Played by Gary Oldman in heavy prosthetics, the man who enjoys champagne with his breakfast and dictates his letters still dressed in his pyjamas charges into the situation like a bull in a china shop, out-shouting those who attempt to fast-track peace talks or undermine him. It's a good performance, and one that will almost definitely win Oldman an overdue Best Actor award. But it still feels like an impression, and despite some attempts to humanise the man with moments of self-doubt, we never break the tough, saggy surface.

Joe Wright has touched on the events of Dunkirk before with 2007's Atonement, a surprisingly moving and powerful love story that featured an impressive tracking shot along the battered beach. Atonement felt like it was created by a film-maker, while Darkest Hour feels like it was sculpted by a committee hoping to overcrowd their posters with lists of their awards nominations. It feels artificial to the point of patronising, with long shots of the smiling working class going about their business as Churchill cruises by trying to get a feel of the public's mood. This is later taken even further he ventures into the London underground on his own to chat with the common folk in a scene that is so out of place it feels like nails down a blackboard. Even worse are the brief moments of battle. CGI bombs are dropped and followed by the camera in a scene that harks back to Pearl Harbor. Impressive supporting turns by Ben Mendelsohn as King George IV and Ronald Pickip as a sympathetic, terminally-ill Chamberlain lighten the mood, while Kristen Scott Thomas, Lily James and Stephen Dillane do the most with what they are given as supportive wife, framing device and sneering villain, respectively. In these times of political uncertainty, Darkest Hour should have had me waving my fist with patriotic pride, but I could barely muster a twitch of the eyebrow.


Directed by: Joe Wright
Starring: Gary Oldman, Kristin Scott Thomas, Ben Mendelsohn, Lily James, Ronald Pickup, Stephen Dillane
Country: USA/UK

Rating: **

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,280: 'Dunkirk' (2017)

There are countless stories of courage and bravery that made their way out of World War II, but perhaps none more famous or as inspirational (at least to us British) as the story, or miracle, of the Dunkirk evacuation. Following the six-week long Battle of France, Allied forces found themselves holed up on the beaches of Dunkirk and surrounded by German forces. Over the course of eight days, over 300,000 troops were rescued by a hastily assembled civilian navy of fishing boats, yachts and lifeboats called into action from Britain. Although Churchill was quick to remind the people that "wars are not won by evacuations," the incident became a symbol of British stiff-upper lipped stoicism and a powerful propaganda tool.

Many movies have covered the event, from 1942's Mrs. Miniver to 2007's Atonement, as well as Leslie Norman's underrated 1958 film Dunkirk. But none have managed to capture the sheer horror of the situation these troops found themselves in as Christopher Nolan's latest, which is an out-and-out masterpiece of technical wizardry and raw, grinding sound design. Long a passion project for the director, Dunkirk drops you into the thick of the action from the get-go with the welcome assumption that audiences will enter the film with at least some prior knowledge, and doesn't let up until the very end of its relatively short 106 minute running-time with the constant ticking of what feels like an ever-present clock. Nolan is determined to put you through the wringer, and does so by placing you up close and personal with the men on land, at sea, and in the air.

The closest person we have to a leading character is Tommy (Fionn Whitehead), a young and resourceful grunt who stumbles onto the beach after evading the Germans. He quickly plots his escape by attempting to board a boat carrying a wounded soldier, and later teaming up with a young soldier played by Harry Styles (who is absolutely fine) as they try desperately to survive the growing carnage. At sea, proud mariner Mr. Dawson (Mark Rylance) sets sail from Britain to rescue "our boys" and do his part in the war. Picking up a shell-shocked soldier played by Cillian Murphy on the way, Dawson must navigate oil-soaked waters with burning ships all around and avoid the German planes screaming in the sky. Battling the Luftwaffe in the air are Spitfire pilots Farrier (Tom Hardy) and Collins (Jack Lowden), the former having to carry out his duty without the aid of his fuel gauge.

These stories do not take place chronologically, a gimmick now something of a Nolan trademark. While this works wonders in a film like Memento, it adds an unnecessary layer of confusion to the unfolding narrative in Dunkirk, occasionally removing you from the action as you try and establish where we are in the story. With Nolan's decision to do away with any backstory to the characters - who are still fully realised and wonderfully performed - there's also a lack of emotional investment. Yet it could be argued that this approach only adds to the fog of war and the terrifying randomness of combat, and this is the most thrilling depiction of battle since 1998's Saving Private Ryan, only without the spatter and gore. Nolan also avoids flag-waving patriotism and finger-pointing, something that Spielberg's Oscar-winner failed to do. Although it's not the complete masterpiece many of us hoped for (although I suspect the majority will disagree), Dunkirk is one of Nolan's most accomplished and dazzling pieces of work. It may not move you, but it will leave you in awe.


Directed by: Christopher Nolan
Starring: Fionn Whitehead, Mark Rylance, Tom Hardy, Kenneth Branagh, Jack Lowden, Harry Styles, Tom Glynn-Carney, Cillian Murphy
Country: UK/Netherlands/France/USA

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,269: 'Mark Of The Devil' (1970)

Michael Reeves' horror classic Witchfinder General made an impressive turnaround at the box-office in spite of its modest budget. Following the witch-hunting exploits of Matthew Hopkins in 17th century England, the movie was disturbing, gruesome, and neatly disguised as a history lesson in an attempt to dodge the censors. The success of Witchfinder naturally led to more witch-trial horror films, most famously being Ken Russell's The Devils, although he denies he was inspired by a film he called "nauseous." It was a big hit in Germany, and their own stab at the folk horror sub-genre came in the form of Michael Armstrong's Mark of the Devil. Using clever marketing (posters warned of a V for Violence certificate and theatres handed out vomit bags to the audience), it was a runaway success, although it has spent the past few decades caught up in the video nasty storm and hacked to pieces in the editing room.

In a small town in early 18th-century Austria, residents are routinely treated to public executions of those accused of dabbling in the dark arts. In charge of finding the witches hiding in their midst and torturing them to confess is Albino (Reggie Nalder), an ugly man who accuses any unfortunate young woman who spurns his advances of performing witchcraft. Albino enjoys and abuses his position of power, until the dashing Count Christian von Meruh (Udo Kier) arrives in town, quickly catching the eye of beautiful, buxom barmaid Vanessa (Olivera Katarina). He is there to announce that famed and highly-respected witch hunger Lord Cumberland (Herbert Lom) will soon be joining him to put an end to the folly carried out by Albino and his cronies. But when Vanessa stands accused of false charges of baring the 'mark of the devil', the Count starts to question his master's methods and motivations, as well as that of the Church.

Mark of the Devil is one of those few horror movies that actually lives up to its reputation. While it certainly isn't the most horrifying film ever made and won't upset your stomach (as the poster claims), it revels in the many scenes of torture and death. Joints are ripped from sockets, digits are squashed, a tongue is removed, and many are burned alive, and almost every torture device imaginable is employed. These scenes initially have the desired effect, but the narrative quickly falls into a repetitive cycle of violence and badly handled love scenes between the Count and Vanessa frolicking on the grass, made all the worse by some atrocious dubbing. It does make a legitimate point however, and points a finger at the hypocrisy of an institution who torture and murder 'by the book' while looking down on the likes of Albino for doing the same for sexual gratification. It would be difficult to admit to 'liking' Mark of the Devil, but it sits as one of the more intriguing entries into the short-lived sub-genre.


Directed by: Michael Armstrong
Starring: Herbert Lom, Udo Kier, Olivera Katarina, Reggie Nalder, Herbert Fux
Country: West Germany

Rating: ***

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,266: 'We Were Soldiers' (2002)

After Steven Spielberg's Saving Private Ryan reinvented the way the brutality and chaos of war was depicted on the cinema screen back in 1998, Hollywood went slightly nuts for all things World War II. At one point, it felt as though we were getting one every other week, and fatigue naturally kicked in, especially since none measured up to Spielberg's visual masterpiece (if very flawed film), other than Terrence Malick's superior The Thin Red Line released the same year. By 2002, attention was moving towards the Vietnam conflict, an unjust and borderline psychotic war that resulting in heavy losses on all sides. It was a favourite topic for many filmmakers in the 1980's, and produced a few greats, but interest seemed to wane as we moved into the 90's. In 2002, We Were Soldiers was supposed to rekindle our fascination with Vietnam, but has since faded into a long list of half-forgotten war movies.

Based on the book We Were Soldiers Once... and Young by Hal Moore and Joseph L. Galloway, Randall Wallace's film attempts to cover the Battle of Ia Drang from three perspectives: the 400 American men fighting at the front, the 4,000 Vietnamese troops they're up against, and the wives at home fearing the arrival of a taxi cab bringing them unwanted news. The bulk of the action follows Moore (Mel Gibson), then a lieutenant colonel, through training his troops and eventually onto the front line, where intelligence is so sparse that they have no idea what they are up against. It turns out that the Americans are greatly outnumbered, and so begins one of the bloodiest battles of the entire war. He is later joined by reporter Galloway (Barry Pepper), who captured much of the conflict on camera as well as picking up a rifle himself. At home, Moore's wife Julie (Madeleine Stowe) intercepts all the letters informing the devastated wives of their loss to hand-deliver them herself.

We Were Soldiers feels like more of a complete overview on the battle thanks to this unique perspective, while the action is some of the toughest and most unflinching in the genre. Perhaps down to its more observational approach - apparently the events take place almost exactly how it played out in real life - the film often gets criticised and labelled as a pro-war movie. I don't feel that what we see is glamorising or promoting war in any way. On the contrary, it refuses to really to take a stand, and this is what makes Wallace's movie far less interesting than it should be. It all boils down to 'war is Hell', but most people know this already whether they have experienced combat or not. The battle scenes are intense, horrifying and well-staged, and demand to be admired from a technical point of view. But it's nothing we haven't seen before. Despite Chris Klein's failure to really convince as a human, We Were Soldiers features many impressive performances, most notably by Sam Elliott as Sgt. Major Plumley, a gruff Sam Elliott-type who mows down his enemies with a revolver while the rest of his men pack automatics, and Gibson himself, who helps tug on the heartstrings during quiet moments of reflection.


Directed by: Randall Wallace
Starring: Mel Gibson, Madeleine Stowe, Greg Kinnear, Sam Elliott, Chris Klein, Keri Russell, Barry Pepper
Country: USA/Germany

Rating: ***

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,263: 'Tower of London' (1962)

Tower of London represented the first time Roger Corman and star Vincent Price had worked outside of the American International Pictures studio, and likely soon regretted the decision shortly into the shooting process. Producer Edward Small had approached Corman with the idea of making a film based on Richard III, and the thought of tackling Shakespeare clearly appealed to the B-movie auteur. Knowing that audiences were tiring of his still-popular Edgar Allen Poe cycle, Corman could stick to his gothic, cobweb-laden style, only this time under the guise of the Bard. Tensions began to simmer almost straight away, as Small only informed Corman that the film would be shot in black-and-white days before filming was to commence. Price had a legion of fans anyway, but the box-office receipts quickly started to dwindle as word-of-mouth got around that the film was not in colour.

The result is a mixed bag. Part a loose adaptation of Shakespeare's Richard III and part remake of Rowland V. Lee's superior 1939 effort of the same name, Tower of London still has plenty to offer to fans of these low-budget spook stories, and Price has so much fun that his performance would be more digestible if served with mayonnaise and bread. He plays the sneering, hunchbacked eldest brother of the dying King Edward IV (Justice Watson), and is shocked and angered when his younger brother George, the Duke of Clarence (Charles Macaulay), is named Protector of the Realm instead of him. It isn't long before George finds himself in a vat of wine with a knife in his back, and Richard sets about turning family against family in his bloodthirsty quest for the throne. Price actually played the Duke of Clarence in Lee's previous film, and it almost feels like Price takes great pleasure in stealing the lead role and disposing of his replacement.

Although Corman was working away from home, the aesthetic is certainly recognisable. The sets are small but detailed, but there aren't many of them. Price schemes and snarls in only a handful of locations, but Corman counteracts this by focusing more on the supernatural elements. The ghosts of those Richard kills frequently haunt him, driving him to a paranoid madness that results in the death of his beloved wife. Price goes way over-the-top in these moments, even for an actor who was well-known for delighting in ham, but watching him engulf the screen never gets old. The budget restrictions set in place by Small were even too much for Corman, and he insisted their three-picture contract be torn up after the film was released. The result is a laughable climax that has ended before you even realise it has begun, and the great Battle of Bosworth Field is reduced to a few silly close-ups and re-used stock footage from the 1939 version. It doesn't demand much at 79 minutes, but Tower of London feels limp and hurried when compared to the lushness of Corman and Price's Poe adaptations.


Directed by: Roger Corman
Starring: Vincent Price, Michael Pate, Joan Freeman, Richard Hale, Sandra Knight, Justice Watson
Country: USA

Rating: ***

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,224: 'Kundun' (1997)

Kundun, Martin Scorsese's beautifully realised story of the Tenzin Gyatso, the 14th Dalai Lama, is possibly his most divisive amongst fans. Directed by the guy whose specialities are wiseguys in sharp suits and dazzling camerawork, Kundun is a remarkably subdued tale. Scorsese had tackled religion before with the controversial The Last Temptation of Christ, but his version of the story of Jesus also came with a recognisable edge. Yet even his roughest and toughest movies come with a sense of spirituality - Mean Streets in particular - and Kundun has this in abundance, so Scorsese isn't exactly far from safe ground. Spirituality is woven into the movie's very fabric, as is the idea of watching a ready-made saint in action.

A saint is precisely how Scorsese views the Dalai Lama, and Melissa Mathison's script paints him like a key religious figure whose teachings can now only be read in scripture. As of 2017, Gyatso is still alive and reigning, although the film begins in 1937. This almost mythical presence does work in the context of Buddhism however, as if their beliefs in reincarnation are true, then Gyatso is just another body containing a soul hundreds of years old. As a young boy (played by Tenzin Yeshi Paichang at 2 years old), he is shown various objects, some of which belonged to the previous Dalai Lama, by some Tibetan monks. He chooses correctly, and is taken away to lead, but as to whether this was the expression on the monks face as he fondled the items or genuine reincarnation, Scorsese lets you ponder. He grows old and wiser, and faces difficult decisions as Imperial China invade to claim Tibet as their own.

This is undoubtedly Scorsese's most beautiful picture, and he takes his time to admire the lavish golds and reds of the ceremonial robes, as well as the intricate creation of Bhavachakra and its inevitable destruction, all backed by Philip Glass' haunting score. The decadence comes at a price however, as although we spend near enough the entire screen time with the Dalai Lama, we learn little about Gyatso. He must suffer his decisions in relative silence, or in hushed utterances to his trusted council. The refusal to follow a traditional narrative makes for a slow-moving if never boring movie, with the drama punctured by a powerful sequence depicting Gyatso standing in a sea of slaughtered monks. While it may leaving us questioning who this man truly was, I can only admire Scorsese's insistence on making the movie he wanted to make. Movies like Kundun are the reason why the director will always be remembered as a true master of his craft.


Directed by: Martin Scorsese
Starring: Tenzin Thuthob Tsarong , Gyurme Tethong, Tulku Jamyang Kunga Tenzin, Tenzin Yeshi Paichang
Country: USA/Monaco

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,216: 'Overlord' (1975)

Stuart Cooper's Overlord is a meditation on the mechanics of war and the young souls swept into it. After winning the Silver Bear at the 25th Berlin International Film Festival, the film became incredibly obscure until recently, when it was given the restoration it deserved by the lovely folks at Criterion. Beginning in a quaint English home and ending on the beaches of Normandy for 'Operation Overlord' during World War II, it's a simple yet hypnotic story of a young private named Tom (Brian Stirner) and his slow journey to a death he feels is inevitable. The very first scene shows an out-of-focus soldier running from or towards an unknown threat before being shot down, only to be revealed as a dream sequence. This vision plagues Tom's thoughts, but he nevertheless remains somewhat chipper about it.

What makes this very personal journey so incredibly powerful is the sense of impending doom. Tom always seems to be on the move, be it on a train or an army jeep, as if he is making a slow trek towards his fate, and he chooses this time to daydream. Despite not knowing where the war is heading or if he'll even see combat, he somehow knows he is going to die but remains nonchalant about it. A nice boy, well spoken and slight, Tom is not built for the army, but he does what he is told and makes friends. The only time we really see his personality come to the fore is when he meets a pretty young lady (Julie Neesam) and the pair enjoy what little time they have together. He tells her they'll meet again, but we know they won't. In making Tom such an everyman, Overlord studies the anonymity of battle, and celebrates the millions of unknown soldiers who have charged into certain death without really understanding why.

Starting out life as a documentary, Cooper later made the bold decision to use the startling archive footage provided by the Imperial War Museum and weave a narrative through it. Cinematographer John Alcott (who collaborated with Stanley Kubrick on the likes of 2001: A Space Odyssey and Barry Lyndon) employs grainy black-and-white photography for the central story so it is interchangeable with the stock footage. The result is staggering. By adding sound, scenes of devastating city bombings become hellish nightmares, and a beach landing turns into something out of science-fiction. In a bizarre scene, a water wheel device powered by mini rockets rolls across the water and onto land, hoping to detonate any landmines or unexploded bombs before mightily toppling over. It's World War II like you've never seen it before, and it's real. It's a winning combination of observational and personal, making Overlord one of the most innovative and devastating humanist war films ever made.


Directed by: Stuart Cooper
Starring: Brian Stirner, Davyd Harries, Nicholas Ball, Julie Neesam
Country: UK

Rating: *****

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,195: 'A Royal Affair' (2012)

A Royal Affair opens with a melancholy Princess Caroline Matilda of Great Britain narrating as she pens a letter to her unseen children. Flashing back in time, she is a young and beautiful teenager about to be shipped off to Denmark to marry her cousin, King Christian VII of Denmark, giggling and dreaming about what her new life will be like with a man who sounds like the ideal husband. It would seem that we are in very familiar costume-drama territory, and director Nikolaj Arcel's film makes sure to include all the factors that make the genre so appealing to some: the beautiful young bride; an unknown kingdom; handsome period costumes; a bastard child; and a love affair that is passionate but ultimately doomed. Yet a careful, character-driven approach ensures that A Royal Affair doesn't boil over into overwrought hysterics. What emerges is a tense tale of political intrigue and terrific performances, and a fascinating history lesson to boot.

As the Princess, played by Alicia Vikander, arrives in Denmark, she immediately encounters her husband not as the gallant artist she expected, but as a nervous man-child, giggling to himself while hiding behind a tree. The King (Mikkel Boe Folsgaard) is a puppet on a throne, and quite clearly mentally deranged. He doesn't take much of a liking to his new Queen, and prefers to spend his free time getting drunk in the company of big-breasted prostitutes. Her optimism is quickly turned into bitterness, and is pleased when her husband decides to take a year off his duties to tour Europe. Shortly after his return, German Johann Struensee (Mads Mikkelsen), a skilled yet humble doctor, is recruited as the King's personal physician. He instantly forges a strong bond with the mad King, who is pleased to have a man of stature and intelligence by his side amidst his stern, old-fashioned council. Struensee's influence in court grows, but he finds himself caught up in a dangerous love affair with the Queen that could mean both of their heads should they be discovered.

This being 18th century Denmark, the King is surrounded by a council of religious old men looking to keep the country firmly in the Dark Ages. Struensee is a believer in the Age of Enlightenment, a progressive philosophical movement spearheaded by the likes of Voltaire and Rousseau. The Queen also shares his liberal views, and their love story isn't so much about their own sexual impulses but a driven and united desire to illuminate their country. Realising just how great an influence he is on the King, the doctor quickly sets about abolishing oppressive laws such as capital punishment, the torturing of suspects, and censorship. This immediately puts him at odds with the ruling aristocracy, who view him as a foreigner destroying their fatherland, and they waste no time looking for a way to expel him from court. It's alarming just how familiar it all sounds with the general one-step forward, two-steps back nature of politics. The three leads are all strong, with Mikkelsen in particular convincing as the reserved man of Enlightenment. By avoiding dramatic melodrama, A Royal Affair succeeds as a simmering portrayal of social disintegration and an intimate, intellectual love story.


Directed by: Nikolaj Arcel
Starring: Alicia Vikander, Mads Mikkelsen, Mikkel Boe Følsgaard, Trine Dyrholm, David Dencik
Country: Denmark/Sweden/Czech Republic/Germany

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,184: 'Patriots Day' (2016)

Teaming up once again with actor Mark Wahlberg to tell a true-life tale of American heroism in the face of disaster and tragedy, director Peter Berg tackles the very recent Boston marathon bombings, which occurred just four years ago in 2013, with Patriots Day. Starting with 2013's Lone Survivor, which followed a close unit as they are surrounded by a hostile Afghan enemy, and continuing with Deepwater Horizon last year, which followed the events that led to the Gulf of Mexico oil spill, Berg has saved the best of his trilogy until last. The second of two films he released in 2016, one would expect Patriots Day to be hastily put together, but is in fact Berg's most accomplished and well-crafted movies to date.

Tommy Saunders (Wahlberg) is a Boston police sergeant facing a slap on the wrist by his superiors for a bust-up with one of his fellow officers. Already carrying a swollen knee, he feels humiliated for having to don the police uniforms and carry out routine police duty at the finishing line of the Boston marathon. The day is all going to plan and the spectators are having fun taking part, until two bombs detonated by terrorists Tamerlan Tsarnaev (Themo Melikidze) and his younger, more Americanised brother Dzhokhar (Alex Wolff), send the city into panic and action. The film follows the events immediately before and after the attack, switching between various characters who will eventually be caught up in the aftermath. There's a young, attractive couple at the starting line as the explosions hit; Chinese student Dun Meng (Jimmy O. Yang) who has his car jacked by the brothers; and a police sergeant of nearby city Watertown, Jeffrey Pugliese (J.K. Simmons).

Although there will be those watching who followed the events closely as they unravelled through the media back in 2013, Berg is meticulous with detail, seemingly following every decision made as the cops and FBI try to figure out who was behind the attacks, and having the actors eerily reenact the surveillance footage that was released to the public during the manhunt. There is a workmanship quality about it, with Berg opting for a matter-of-fact dramatisation of the events rather than sensationalising them. Some of the best scenes have seasoned actors verbally spar with each other, with the FBI initially hesitant to label the bombing an act of terrorism and later to release photographs of the suspects to the media. These moments are brought to life by a slimmed-down John Goodman as Boston Commissioner Ed Davis and Kevin Bacon as Special Agent Richard DesLauriers.

Like the Berg/Wahlberg movies that came before, Patriots Day is clearly well-intended. But while Lone Survivor took place in 2005 and Deepwater Horizon in 2010, the dust has barely settled in Boston. and the attack must still linger in the mind of those who witnessed it. It would be justified to label the film as too soon, but Berg makes a point of highlighting the spirit of Boston as a whole. While this leads to some of the film's cheesiest dialogue, Patriots Day feels like a raised fist of defiance rather than a potentially insensitive cash-in of a very recent tragedy, interviewing some of the characters' real-life counterparts at the very end. It is also incredibly good at building tension, depicting the everyday actions of those who will later cross paths with the fugitives before exploding into an action-packed finale. Berg is more than capable of staging an accomplished set-piece, and he is successful in delivering a realistic and riveting climax, rounding off a solid piece of storytelling that is respectful of all the Bostonians who came together in 2013 for the city they love.


Directed by: Peter Berg
Starring: Mark Wahlberg, Kevin Bacon, John Goodman, J.K. Simmons, Michelle Monaghan
Country: USA

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie