Review #1,419: 'Gothic' (1986)

The story goes that during the summer of 1816, renowned British poet and philanderer Lord Byron invited fellow poet Percy Bysshe Shelley and his wife Mary Godwin to stay at his grand Villa Diodati in Switzerland. As the weather took a nasty turn and a storm raged outside, the threesome, along with Byron's physician Dr. John Polidori and Mary's stepsister Claire Clairmont, gathered around the fire to share ghost stories. This event allegedly spawned two incredibly influential works of literature, although they didn't come from the poets. Mary Godwin, who would become Mary Shelley, released Frankenstein, or the Modern Prometheus in 1818, and Polidori would go on to pen The Vampyre, the first published vampire story and obvious inspiration for Bram Stoker's Dracula. It's the kind of myth rooted in fact that has filmmakers licking their lips. James Whale used this gathering as a framing device for The Bride of Frankenstein, but Ken Russell took his own idea and ran with it, and the result is a strange, psychosexual horror that fails to really fit into any discernible genre.

We begin with a group of socialites gossiping amongst themselves as they spy on Lord Byron's mansion through a telescope. I supposed this is meant to be us, the viewer, as we giddily peak behind the doors of a known rascal as he awaits the arrival of some of the most soon-to-be-revered writers in Britain. Percy (Julian Sands) and Mary (Natasha Richardson) arrive, and Byron, played by Gabriel Byrne, watches them with indifference. His mistress Claire (Myriam Cyr) and physician Polidori (Timothy Spall) are already there, enjoying the freedom of Byron's home. As the drinks start to flow, Byron start to read excerpts from Phatasmagoria, a book containing many horror stories, and the group decide to have a seance around a human skull. Immediately after, Claire has a seizure and strange events start to take place. Paintings come alive, odd noises can be heard around the house, and Polidori attempts suicide after experiencing paranoid episodes. Is Byron behind it all? Are supernatural forces really at work? Or are the literary darlings simply seeing their unpublished work come to life?

I'm a huge fan of Ken Russell and his unique, easily-distracted style of film-making, but Gothic is the first film I've seen of his that didn't quite work. He seems to have a million different directions he would like to take Gothic but heads towards all of them at same time. There are dark sexual undercurrents at play, particularly with Byron and Claire's apparently violent and toxic relationship, but they are never fully developed. It seems to have aspirations to be a horror, but Russell simply isn't disciplined enough to follow the genre rule-book. This refusal to conform can often achieve greatness, but Gothic ends up as little more than a collection of slightly camp vignettes involving characters running and screaming down corridors or making spooky statements as the thunder rumbles outside. It also isn't helped by Julian Sands' uniformly terrible performance, whose interpretation of a Romantic poet is to prance around shirtless and blubber like a child. Byrne is perfect casting as the bored poet yearning for new experiences, as is Spall as the creepy, reptilian Polidori. It also looks beautiful, from the sets to the costumes, but it isn't enough to save this from being a rare miss from Russell.


Directed by: Ken Russell
Starring: Gabriel Byrne, Julian Sands, Natasha Richardson, Myriam Cyr, Timothy Spall
Country: UK

Rating: **

Tom Gillespie

Review #766: 'Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban' (2004)

With Chris Columbus abdicating at the sight of dark material, the Harry Potter was gratefully gobbled up by Alfonso Cuaron, a director having only at that point turned heads with the incredibly sexy Y Tu Mama Tambien (2001). This is a vastly different Potter to that which came before. When his dead parents are insulted by an obnoxious aunt (Pam Ferris), Harry blows her out of the window, kicking his bedroom cupboard in a rage. There's no plinky-plonky music or pie-in-the-face sight gags, and when Harry steps outside of his house, the streets are grey and grim, not a cosy suburban horror show.

After fleeing another run-in with the Dursleys, Harry (Daniel Radcliffe) hops on the Knight Bus, which takes him to the Leaky Cauldron where he is to learn his fate having used magic outside of Hogwarts. Best friends Ron (Rupert Grint) and Hermione (Emma Watson) are there waiting for him, when they all learn that convicted serial killer Sirius Black (Gary Oldman) has escaped from notorious prison Azkaban, possibly with Harry in his sights. With the ghostly guardians of Azkaban, the Dementors, surrounding Hogwarts in search of Black, Harry finds his own life in danger, and seeks help from new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, and friend of his parents, Professor Lupin (David Thewlis).

With Columbus's kid-friendly approach ditched and Cuaron's more focused direction, the franchise at this point could finally be taken seriously, with real threats finally entering Harry's life, and the trio's characters hitting puberty and becoming more feisty in the process. Cuaron also wisely adapted the book, rather than simply filming the pages, and this is noticeably shorter than it's predecessors despite being the biggest book at this point. Hermione is less precocious, Ron is less gurny, and Daniel Radcliffe finally puts in a decent performance. He isn't perfect, but there's a delightful eccentricity to the actor's mannerisms which make him endearing to watch.

Apart from a climax that makes as little sense as it does in the novel, the story is also more gripping. We finally see Harry's past intertwine with his present, with revelations coming out of the woodwork, and Harry finally starting to learn more about his parents. There's also some genuinely frightening scenes, including the Dementors - hooded, faceless ghouls - and a scene involving a certain character's dangerous affliction. In Cuaron's hands, Harry Potter is genuinely magic, funny when it should be, dark when it needs to be, and it's rather disappointing he didn't go on to direct more of them.


Directed by: Alfonso Cuarón
Starring: Daniel Radcliffe, Rupert Grint, Emma Watson, Gary Oldman, Michael Gambon, David Thewlis, Alan Rickman, Maggie Smith, Robbie Coltrane, Timothy Spall
Country: UK/USA

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #32: 'The King's Speech' (2010)

There seems to be an ever-growing obssession with our monarchy these days. In the recent years of political blunder, the credit crunch, and the folly of Iraq and Afghanistan, people seem to be turning to our Royal Majesty and her ancestors for comfort, possibly harking back to the days when we were a super-powerful empire. Yet the press are never too far away from finding a way to criticise or unveil an unspoken truth. I've never known a subject that can be so simultaneously loved and despised in equal measure. The cinema-going audience remain eager however, with the recent releases of The Queen (2006), The Young Victoria (2009) and now The King's Speech proving critical successes as well as audiences flocking to see them.

Arriving just in time for awards season, The King's Speech has been heavily praised and awarded in equal measures. It depicts the struggle of Prince and Duke of York Albert (Colin Firth) to overcome his severe stammer. In an era where the radio was becoming a powerful method of communication between the monarchy and the general public, it is something of a worry to the Prince, who with his father's illness and his brother's dangerous love-affair with an American socialite, is looking at a possible long term as King. His dedicated wife Elizabeth (Helena Bonham Carter) tries one last possible solution in unorthodox speech therapist Lionel Logue (Geoffrey Rush), who methods prove trying for the short-tempered Albert. Soon enough, his father George V (Michael Gambon) passes away and his brother Edward (Guy Pearce) abdicates soon after taking the reign to be with the woman he wants to marry, and with the seemingly unavoidable conflict with Germany brewing, Albert must find a remedy to his affliction in order to speak to his people.

What struck me almost instantly about the film was the unique visual style. Not unique to film in general but to a genre that usually loves to linger on pretty dresses rather than trying to conjure up emotions through clever camerawork. Cinematographer Danny Cohen seems to trap Albert in a tight box, shooting up close and watching Firth twitch every muscle in his face. It's a very effective method, and alongside Firth's excellent performance, you get a feel of Albert's inner struggle and the overbearing pressure that is quickly building up on top of him. It also looks somewhat bleak. For a film that spends most of it's time in beautiful palace settings, it looks somewhat brown and drained of colour. It's almost as if it wanted to capture an age that we see mainly through black-and-white footage and sepia photographs. Critic Martin Filler described it as being 'steeped in strong tea' and he's bang on. It captures a certain Britishness that so many films in the genre attempt but ultimately fail.

It raked up the awards, taking the Best Picture and Best Director awards, as well as an Oscar for Firth and for the Screenplay. This did initially put me off, but I reset my attitude and hoped for an excellent film.. In a way, it is an excellent film, but hardly worthy of being labelled the best film of the year. The acting is excellent all around, the music, script and as mentioned, the cinematography are also outstanding. But there are niggling problems with the film that stuck with me and brought the film down. Minor historical inaccuracies aside, which always have to be accepted to a certain degree, I was puzzled with the insistence of including Winston Churchill's (Timothy Spall) character, who seems to be there for no other reason that for us to say 'oh look it's Churchill!'. The character just seems like a caricature and the scene which he is mainly involved in took place with someone else anyway. Also Edward's character has obviously been altered to make him more of a sneering villain, a man whose selfishness and disloyalty to his country has placed Albert in this avoidable situation.

A very good film all-round, notable for Firth's excellent performance as well as his supporting players who are equally as good. In a year full of strong films, I just don't think this is quite up to the same level. But I don't work on the voting board at the Oscars, so what do I know, right?


Directed by: Tom Hooper
Starring: Colin Firth, Geoffrey Rush, Helena Bonham Carter, Guy Pearce, Michael Gambon, Derek Jacobi, Timothy Spall
Country: UK

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie