Review #30: 'Pather Panchali' (1955)

Part one of Satyajit Ray's Apu Trilogy which concludes with Aparajito (1956) and Apur Sansar (1959), Pather Panchali (literally translated as 'Song Of The Little Road') is a Bengali masterpiece and the film that introduced the master filmmaker to the world. Made on a shoestring budget, it focuses on the struggles of a poverty-stricken Bengali family seen through the eyes of their smallest child Apu (played by Subir Bannerjee). The film came about when Ray was illustrating a new edition of Bibhutibhushan Bandopadhyay's novel, and the idea of writing a film script occurred to him as he admired the lyrical writing and honest depiction of a struggling family. Ray assisted Jean Renoir as he shot his film The River (1951) and suggested the idea to him, to which Renoir reacted with enthusiastic encouragement.

The film follows the Ray family as they go about their day-to-day lives in a small, rural village in Bengal. The mother Sarbujaya (Karuna Bannerjee) carries the weight of the burden, seemingly forever cleaning and working and living off the land. The father Harihar (Kanu Bannerjee) helps out doing odd jobs and mostly working away, chasing back payments he has not received from his landlord boss. Durga (Uma Das Gupta) is the teenage daughter who seems to have a weakness for petty theft and has something of a reputation in the village. The grandmother Indir (Chunibala Devi) spends her time stealing food from her daughter and wandering the village. Watching over everything is the most recent arrival Apu, who sees everything with a wide-eyed innocence and remains generally silent throughout the film. By the way, the mother, father and Apu are all played by actors with the surname Bannerjee, although they are not related.

One of Ray's key influences to filmmaking are the great films of Italian neo-realism, such as Vittorio De Sica's masterpiece The Bicycle Thieves (1948) and Roberto Rossellini's Rome, Open City (1945). It is evident here, as the film has the same visual poetry and social realism, as well as the ability to transport the viewer into a world that they most likely have never, and will never, experience first hand. It is a fascinating insight into how some people of Bengal had to live during this period, and their social attitudes. When Durga is accused of stealing a necklace from one the village children, the women of the village form a kind of posse to confront her mother, accusing her of being unable to raise her children correctly. The family have conflicting attitudes to the rogue-ish grandmother who spends her time almost begging for clothing to keep her warm; the mother looks down on her as a leech, yet the children, especially Durga, look upon her as a loveable character, and someone they can always seek comfort in.

It's a film dominated by outstanding performances. Devi was discovered by Ray living in a brothel, having previously starred in two films in her heydey. She is loveable and tragic, and her performance here would become her swansong, at the age of 80. Tragically she died of influenza before the film was released but she will be immortalised for her portrayal here. Karuna Bannerjee is also a standout, switching from sadness to joy to tragedy with effortless conviction, especially during the third act of the film where the family struggles to hold out during monsoon season, where her home risks being ripped apart by the torrential rain and wind. The biggest star of the show, however, is Ray himself, creating a multi-layered film of visual poetry and gorgeous cinematography, with very little funding for his project. He would go on to be one of world cinema's most creatively successful and critically acclaimed directors, making over 30 features in a 35-year career. At the start of filming, Ray had never directed anything in his life, the camera had never shot a film, and the majority of the actors has never acted in front of the camera. Absolutely outstanding stuff, and deserves it's place amongst the world's greatest films.


Directed by: Satyajit Ray
Starring: Kanu Bannerjee, Karuna Bannerjee, Subir Bannerjee
Country: India

Rating: *****

Tom Gillespie

Review #29: 'True Grit' (2010)

It is curious as to why the Coen brothers, two of the greatest directors in cinema history, have taken so long to tackle a western. Their style and feel is ideally suited to the grit and the mystery of the West, most evident in No Country For Old Men (2007), Blood Simple (1984) and even The Big Lebowski (1998). How I rejoiced when I heard that not only were they to apply their trade to the western, but were to film a re-adaptation of Charles Portis' 1968 novel of the same name. Of course, it has already been filmed back in 1969 in the not-bad John Wayne version, but the original film always lacked that toughness, and the most important aspect of the film, the character of Mattie Ross, was messed up in the form of the highly annoying and 22-year old Kim Darby. The Coen's new adaptation sticks close to the source novel.

Mattie Ross (Hailee Steinfeld) is a 14 year old girl whose father has just been murdered and robbed by the notorious Tom Chaney (Josh Brolin). Lacking faith in the law to bring her father's murderer to justice, she seeks out a lone lawman who has the 'true grit' to tackle such a job, and finds it in the form of trigger-happy U.S. Marshal Ruben 'Rooster' Cogburn (Jeff Bridges). Cogburn is a drunkard who always shoots first, asks questions later, but Mattie sees in him the ability to see her father avenged. After reluctantly agreeing, Cogburn sets out with Texas Ranger LaBoeuf (Matt Damon), who has something of a financial gain with the capture of Chaney, and the two are eventually joined by the determined Mattie.

This is all that someone who has seen the 1969 original will be familiar with, as the 2010 version is in some ways very similar to it. However, the Coen's have their fingerprints all over this, and features some trademark quirky humour and some magnificent cinematography. In my opinion, this is one of their best since Miller's Crossing (1990), which I consider their greatest film. Their are some fine moments, such as a strange meeting with a man clothed in bearskin (complete with bear head) who tries to sell Cogburn and Mattie the corpse that they cut down not long before, and a shooting contest between LaBouef and a bladdered Cogburn.

The biggest problem with the original, as I mentioned before, is the character of Mattie Ross and the actress who played her. She was frustrating and bratty, and the focus of the film seemed to linger on John Wayne's Cogburn. This is Mattie's story and the Coen's wisely make sure that she dominates the film. In Steinfeld, they have found an actress who will surely go on to great things. She is absolutely stunning in the lead, brimming with confidence, intelligence and Southern sass. She manages to hold her own with two Oscar winners, and if anything, blows them out of the water. It's simply one of the finest child performances in many, many a year. Not to say the support is slacking. Bridges, as well as Steinfeld, has received an Oscar nomination for his efforts, and makes for a much better Cogburn than Wayne. John Wayne famously received his only Oscar win for the original film, but it seems now looking back that it was more of a token gesture for a body of work than anything. Wayne had that lived-in look, but Bridges has the acting chops. Matt Damon seems to have been forgotten amongst the two main leads, but his performance is also great, bringing a welcome humour and slight sexual tension to the film.

A trademark for the Coen's is the cinematography, here again working with their lifetime companion Roger Deakins. Never has the West been captured with such astounding beauty and terrifying menace. The final third of the film, in which Mattie encounters Chaney and his gang, led by 'Lucky' Ned Pepper (Barry Pepper, no relation), eventually leads to a night-time dash through the night. The night is shot with a crisp and starry mystery and magic - it is simply beautiful. It is also a nodding homage to Charles Laughton's 1955 masterpiece The Night Of The Hunter. I hope that this cleans up at the Oscars, even though I know it won't.


Directed by: Ethan Coen, Joel Coen
Starring: Jeff Bridges, Hailee Steinfeld, Matt Damon, Josh Brolin, Barry Pepper
Country: USA

Rating: *****

Tom Gillespie

Review #28: 'Paul' (2011)

Two British sci-fi 'geeks', Graeme Willy and Clive Gollings (played by Simon Pegg and Nick Frost respectively), have gone to America, firstly to Comic-con and then on to a road trip diverting to all UFO hot spots in an RV. Whilst in the vicinity of area 51, they are run off the road by an out-of-control car, which makes them careen onto the sand off-road. This is where they encounter Paul, a grey CGI alien escaped from said area 51, on a mission to get back to the mothership. Paul has been on Earth since 1947 when his ship crashed. Paul is a wise-ass talking, pot-smoking refugee from a distant planet who was sent here on a science project. Graeme and Clive are sequestered into taking him to find his way home. On their journey they pick up fundamentalist Christian Ruth (Kristen Wiig) from a trailer park. They are also on the run from the feds, led by Jason Bateman's Special Agent Lorenzo Zoil.

And that's it really. Written by Pegg and Frost, you'd think it may have the same verve and contextual Britishness of humour as previous work Shaun of the Dead (2004) and Hot Fuzz (2007). However, like their characters here, they have seemed to Americanise themselves so that they can one day 'make it' over the pond. It is therefore a very American affair, complete with the fitting stylised emotional 'arcs' of the characters. Don't get me wrong, there are some very funny moments in the film. Such as Paul stating that he gets his weed from the US Military, which is so strong that it killed Bob Dylan; "But he's not dead". Paul answers "That's what you think" (or something along those lines). I really liked the t-shirt worn by Ruth showing an image of Jesus shooting Darwin with the statement 'evolve this' underneath. But unfortunately many of the gags are derived from reference.

This brings me to the main thing that Pegg as a writer has consistently done since the brilliant TV series Spaced. Whilst the film references in Shaun and Fuzz were at times subtle, in both Spaced and Paul, they are nothing of the sort, kicking you in the face with their obviousness. Paul might as well be an hour and a half of Pegg and Frost giving Spielberg and Lucas a big massive wank. (Spielberg also gives a vocal cameo in the film) References to all Spielberg's Sci-fi output, along with, of course Star Wars (1977), are so tritely signposted that it might as well hold signs up stating "We love you Spielberg/Lucas, please suck my cock!" Many of the characters lines are simply lifted from 80's fodder such as Aliens (1986) (Sigorney Weaver has a cameo) and Robocop (1987), to name just two. But most gag/references are kept for the awe of said child/directors as previously stated.

The two main characters are likable, but they just seem so cliched. They may as well be lifted (particularly Peggs character) from Spaced. And Seth Rogen voicing Paul is amusing at times, but just falls short as its just another all-too-obvious stoner character for him. Pegg and Frost chose wisely (if they chose at all) to hire Gregg Motola to direct the film, whose previous films were the actually funny Superbad (2007) and Adventureland (2009). He brought with him the the ensemble of actors used regularly in the Apatow group, but the script is just not good enough to give the characters much to do. Perfect example being, the usually excellent Bill Hader, who in my opinion stole the show in Superbad as one-of-the-boys police Officer Slater. So it simply seems that these talents were absolutely wasted.

Well, in summary, the film definitely has some genuine laughs, but just seems to leave great streams of pearl necklaces on the faces of those filmmakers who revived (or ruined) Hollywood filmmaking from 1975 onwards. Ha Ha, funny.


Directed by: Greg Mottola
Starring: Simon Pegg, Nick Frost, Seth Rogen, Kristen Wiig, Jason Bateman, Bill Hader, Sigourney Weaver, Jane Lynch
Country: USA/UK

Rating: **

Marc Ivamy

Review #27: 'The Fighter' (2010)

Long in the development pipeline, and long something of a labour of love for actor Mark Wahlberg, The Fighter arrives just before Awards season, depicting a often-told story about overcoming obstacles to reach your dream. Wahlberg, who takes centre stage as Irish-American welterweight boxer Mickey Ward, spent four years bulking himself up for the part and learning to fight like a professional fighter. You have to admire his dedication, as his performance and the film itself is surprisingly excellent. After all, this story has already been told in the form of Rocky (1976), although that was told with a more fairytale edge. The Fighter is grounded in a very miserable reality, where poverty and crack-addiction is rife.

Trained by his former-professional boxer half-brother Dickie (Christian Bale), Mickey is going from fight to fight making little money and usually getting his arse handed to him. He is what is known in the boxing world as a 'stepping stone' - someone to knock out the way just before your big shot. Things aren't helped by the fact that Dickie is an unreliable crack-head, and his manager mother, is selfish and only sees what would be beneficial to her family, rather than Mickey's career. Mickey O'Keefe, a policeman and Mickey's co-trainer, believes him to be a formidable fighter, trying to do the right thing while his family keep messing things up. When Dickie is arrested and is jailed for a long stint, Mickey quits boxing and shacks up with feisty bartender Charlene (Amy Adams), much to his mother's and his seven sister's dismay. When an opportunity presents itself, Mickey must decide what is right and consider stepping back into the ring and fulfil his potential.

So far, so cliche, you may think. And you would be right to think that too, as the film does tick all the boxes. Yet it has never been done with so much dedication and heart, and this pours onto the screen for us to see. It's a film of (excuse the pun) knockout (sorry!) performances by a highly talented cast. The critics have raved about him, yet the Awards panels have failed to recognise Mark Wahlberg's restrained performance as the shy, quiet Mickey. He holds the film together as it's a film that needs a central character that you can truly root for, and Wahlberg nails it. Perhaps because it is a less showy performance than the other actors, but Wahlberg can stand tall after this, capturing the standard of acting that we have seen previously in Boogie Nights (1997) and The Yards (1999). It is Christian Bale, however, who is scooping up the awards, and has received an Oscar nomination for his painful depiction of drug-addled Dickie Eklund. It is a fine showcase for possibly the finest actor around at the moment, and you can only sit back in awe at his complete dedication to his craft. He apparently stayed in character throughout shooting, and he lost a lot of weight to portray the decimation of Dickie's addiction. Of course, he's done this before in The Machinist (2004), but here his acting overshadows the physical attributes.

The downside to the film is it's cliches, but I was so completely engrossed in the story and the characters that I just didn't care. It is difficult for the sports genre as a whole, as their is always something that has been done before. The better sports films of the last few years - Friday Night Lights (2004), Million Dollar Baby (2004), The Wrestler (2008) - also had to sacrifice originality for the sake of telling a good story, and it's the same here. Kudos, though, for director David O. Russell (who directed the fantastic Three Kings (1999) and I Heart Huckabees (2004) - both containing great Wahlberg performances) who takes an unfussy, no-nonsense approach. During the dramatic scenes, he simply points the camera and allows his actors to act, and the story to be told. He changes this, however, during the slightly disappointing boxing scenes, which are clearly influenced by Scorsese's Raging Bull, but lacking the magic and artistic flair of the 1980 classic.

Although it's never going to win the Best Picture Oscar, it is a worthy contender, much like it's protagonist. I hope Bale will received the award he so thoroughly deserves, and Wahlberg will realise he's not an action star, but a very good actor. A very pleasant surprise.


Directed by: David O. Russell
Starring: Mark Wahlberg, Christian Bale, Amy Adams, Melissa Leo
Country: USA

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #26: 'L'Enfance Nue' (1968)

It is quite extraordinary that 1968's L'Enfance Nue (or Naked Childhood) was the debut feature of a 43 year-old Maurice Pialat. Pialat would go on to direct a small number of highly-admired films after this, up until 1995, but it remains this film that he will be most remembered for. Similar in spirit but not in style to Francois Truffaut's masterpiece The 400 Blows (1959), it follows the exploits of a troublemaking child who channels all of his rejection into ferocious anger that causes havoc with the people around him. Truffaut also has a co-producer credit for the film, although it would be the last time he would work with Pialat.

A young boy, Francois (Michel Terrazon), is placed in a home for bad children when his frequent outbursts and often psychopathic acts become too much for his mother. He is eventually re-homed and put into the care of an elderly couple, who also look after another older child, Raoul. When Francois warms to the elderly lady, his behaviour begins to become less hostile and he becomes familiar with his new surroundings. But a lifetime spent being unwanted has left it's mark on Francois, and he constantly remains unpredictable. Francois kills a cat, throws a knife at his new 'brother', and repeatedly steals from the other children. He is a horrific creation, and every parent's nightmare.

Pialat paints an interesting picture of France at the time. Without sledgehammering it home, he and the film depicts a time where a creeping poverty was lurking among the edges of suburbia. Perhaps this was one of the factors for Francois' parents being physically and mentally unable to keep the child, too distracted with their own situation that they don't have the time to get to the root of the problem. Or perhaps Francois is just a mischievous little bastard, and his inability to settle with one family before pushing them over the edge is his fault. L'Enfance Nue also has a surprisingly reserved depiction of the social services. They are seen simply doing their job, and repeatedly re-housing Francois every time he is rejected by a new foster family. This is where the genius lies in this film. Instead of using the film as a medium to send a social message (a la Ken Loach), Pialat sits back, points his camera, and tells a story. It is both complex and simple, but you would have to make your own mind up about that.

Much like Jean-Pierre Leaud in The 400 Blows, Michel Terrazon is fantastic in the lead role, brimming with menace and an unpredictability. Although the comparisons seem obvious, it would be wholly unfair to carry on comparing this to Truffaut's film, as L'Enfance Nue is a fantastic film in it's own right. Like most of his films, this is considered somewhat autobiographical to Pialat, but how much is unclear. His filmmaking techniques seem similar to the attitudes of the title character - this film is in your face and hard-hitting. You can almost hear the director yelling 'if you don't like it, then fuck you!'. A very, very good film, and I shall be seeking out more Pialat because of it. A remarkable debut.


Directed by: Maurice Pialat
Starring: Michel Terrazon, Linda Gutemberg, Raoul Billerey
Country: France

Rating: *****

Tom Gillespie

Review #25: 'Never Let Me Go' (2010)

Never Let Me Go is a film, like the novel it's based on, that seemingly mixes genres whilst almost firmly staying within the aesthetic realm of British period drama. You'd be forgiven for thinking that it is in fact just another 'costume' drama with Keira Knightly in it. I use the term costume drama loosely, simply as it is set in a period that is not our own. The film takes place in 1978, 1985 and 1995. Let Me Go portrays a dystopian 'past' which gives off an vague feeling of science fiction whilst firmly staying within the parameters of 'realism'; again a term used very loosely, as it is an alternate reality if you like.

The screenplay was scribed by Alex Garland (previously known for novel/screenplay of The Beach (2000) and screenplay for 28 Days Later (2002), amongst other works), based on the novel of the same name by Kazuo Ishiguro, which was on the Times top 100 novels since 1923. Ishiguro is previously known for the novel Remains of the Day, which was also adapted for the screen. Director Mark Romonek makes his second major feature work after 2002's One Hour Photo, which was an interesting piece of cinema, overshadowed in the media by the odd, but quite brilliant performance by a subdued Robin Williams. Romonek's other work is mainly in the music video world, along with adverts (whore! - I retract that comment if we ever accept adverts on this blog! - well....).

Let Me Go tells the story of three children who are raised in what first appears to be a very English boarding school, called Hailsham. As the story progresses we realise that these children are raised in strict restriction from the real world as they are later to be used for their vital organs for the purpose of medical progression, and to restrict the spreading of serious diseases. It's never elaborated on whether the children are born of cloning or as test-tube babies. because of the setting I assume they would be test-tube. But again, as I have stipulated before, we are in an unsure mix of genre and an ambiguous state of reality.

The film has three stages, first of which is the aforementioned childhood stage. This is where the characters Kathy (Carey Mulligan), Tommy (Andrew Garfield), and Ruth (Keira Knightly), cement their friendship. I'm not going to give too much away about the relationships, as I feel this is where the majority of the emotional and narrative drive comes from. As they grow and are dissipated from their every day, they move towards their twenties, and the last stages of existence; 'completion'. This is the stage in which they begin donating organs. Between these they each explore their sexuality and their place in the world, knowing all too well that they are only on the planet for a short period, not knowing where they came from. They always (particularly the girls), want to know who their 'originals' are. This, in me, triggers that concept that it is in fact a product of cloning. The performances by the three main characters are very noteworthy. They give realistic and emotional gravitas to the events and problems they all endure.

I really don't want to linger at all on details of the narrative, or to dwell on the complexities of the relationships, as I feel this is one of those films everyone should watch. It encompasses the issues of science and duplication of people, as it questions the nature of the human soul. What does make us human? If we are replicated in a science laboratory, does this make us less human genetically/biologically? Whilst this idea is not wholly new in any way, it is a fundamental question when faced with the realities that we live with. After all, cloning is absolutely possible.

The film is beautifully crafted; stunning, yet simple cinematography permeates the film, whilst also portraying the times they are set in perfectly. (We may well be in a different time altogether, but it 'feels' correct). A simple angle of the camera gives the nostalgia of time to the complete mise-en-scene. I rarely leave a film so touched, and so moved by questions of humanity and the importance of life.


Directed by: Mark Romanek
Starring: Carey Mulligan, Andrew Garfield, Keira Knightley, Sally Hawkins, Charlotte Rampling
Country: UK/USA

Rating: *****

Marc Ivamy

Review #24: 'Robinson Crusoe on Mars' (1964)

1950's and 60's sci-fi movies can be easy targets. They were usually cheap, cheerful and woodenly acted by square-jawed male leads and big-eyed supporting women. They also reflected the attitudes, and usually the fears, of the society of the time. The heightened paranoia and fear of the unknown that plagued 1950's society was clearly reflected in films such as This Island Earth (1955) and Earth Vs. The Flying Saucers (1956), where America would be unwillingly attacked by an deadly force from outer space. Japan's post-Hiroshima movies portrayed a country under attack by horrific mutations caused by radioactivity in Japan's oceans, most famously in Ishiro Honda's quite excellent Gojira (1954), and were a massive amount of fun with a quite brutal and sobering undertone. Yet audiences and filmmakers alike seemed to lighten up in the 60's and focus less on the satire, and more on the science and fantasy aspects of the genre.

Instead of us fine Earthlings being attacked on our own doorstep by those laser-wielding bastards from outer space, we began venturing out and seeking adventure. Inspiration seemed to be taken from popular literature. Mysterious Island (1961) was (albeit very lossely) based on Jules Verne's novel, er, The Mysterious Island which followed a group of Union soliders from Civil War-era America being washed ashore an unknown island inhabited by giant beasts. The Time Machine (1960) was an adaptation of H.G. Welles' fantastic book about a man who travels forward in time from Victorian England to encounter a very strange future world. Bringing me eventually to Byron Haskin's Robinson Crusoe On Mars, based of course on Daniel Defoe's classic novel.

Quite possibly having one of the best titles in cinema history, the film is a surprisingly effective adventure film. Two astronauts seemingly surveying the surface of Mars (played by Paul Mantee and TV Batman's Adam West, respectively) are forced to abandon ship to avoid a collision with an asteroid heading directly for them. Kit Draper (Mantee) lands successfully and begins to explore the barren landscape, only to eventually discover that McReady (West) didn't make it. The ship's pet monkey, however, did survive and joins our hero on his bid to survive this alien world.

Surprisingly, the majority of the film is a one-man show, with Mantee carrying it admirably. The film takes a serious scientific approach to his survival, as he must find ways to live without a constant supply of fresh oxygen, find a heat source, and a supply of food before his own runs out. Luckily for Draper, the air is breathable for short periods of time before he requires to take a 'booster' of oxygen, Mars' rocks seem to be able to burn, and the planet offers it's own food source in the shape of a half-plant, half-sausage thingy. Of course, the 'science' behind it all is a load of bollocks, but it is refreshing to see it being taken seriously, and not ignoring it for the benefit of telling an easy story.

But where there's Mars there's going to be some of those bloody aliens, and here they seem to be in the middle of a kind of mining war with of tribe of human-shaped alien slaves. Draper rescues one during an attack and names him Friday (Victor Lundin). The two develop a comical and often rather sweet relationship, as the two attempt to mix and explain their cultures, and Friday makes an attempt to learn English (and he's an extremely fast learner!). Friday is constantly being tortured by two disc fitted around his wrists, which the aliens use to lure and physically effect Friday. When the aliens discover Draper and Friday's hiding place, they attack and force our heroes to flee.

A surprisingly slow-paced and interesting sci-fi flick that is low on cheesy action and bad acting, and high on good writing and wit. Haskin's direction is also solid, similar to his fantastic adaptation of The War Of The Worlds (1953). Recommended for sci-fi buffs and fans of a good story. It also has Adam West and a sidekick monkey - what else do you want?


Directed by: Byron Haskin
Starring: Paul Mantee, Victor Lundin, Adam West
Country: USA

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #23: '127 Hours' (2010)

It was a wonder what direction Danny Boyle would take after the phenomenal success, both critically and commercially, of 2008's Slumdog Millionaire. He has always been a independent director, and even when taking on larger projects such as Sunshine (2007) and The Beach (2000), he has always maintained that low-budget feel. I always look forward to anything Boyle does, and even though I have an almost resentful attitude toward Slumdog due to it's overrated success, I was pleased to hear that he had decided to stick to what he does best and make relatively low-key film that is practically a one-man show. It is also nice that 127 Hours is one of his best.

In 2003, reckless thrill-seeker Aron Ralston went rock-climbing and hiking in the canyons of Utah without telling anyone where he was. He meets a couple of female hikers who he takes to a hidden pool and has a bit of fun with before departing to wander the plains on his own. In a bizarre accident, Ralston slips on a loose boulder and falls into a canyon, the boulder falling with him and landing on his arm, completely trapping him. It takes some time for the gravity of the situation to hit Ralston after some initial confusion. He must work out how to escape his predicament or accept his fate, with only a few tools including a blunt pen knife, and very little water for company. It will be of no surprise to know that Aron Ralston does survive the ordeal, and famously had to cut off his own arm with said pen knife in order to escape. The skill of Boyle as a director, and the acting ability of James Franco as our hero, combine to make the film as exciting and nail-biting as a story can be when we already know the outcome.

It must have been an ordeal to figure out how to make a 90-minute film about one man stuck in one place for over five days. Kudos goes to editor Jon Harris and cinematographers Enrique Chediak and Anthony Dod Mantle for using all the tricks in the book to make the visuals consistently interesting and never allowing the action to drag. As Ralston begins to hallucinate as his water rationing begins to take it's toll, a combination of split-screens, distorted colours and inserts from pop culture allow us to be placed into the character's damaged state. The camerwork and editing is fast and flashy, much like the character of Aron Ralston himself - always living fast, sometimes too fast for his own good. It's obvious that Danny Boyle is in a deft hand when directing his films this way. It's evident in the fantastic Trainspotting (1996), as Ewan McGregor's Renton goes cold turkey on his heroin addiction, and in the first hour of Slumdog, as he depicts the madness and colour of the slums. It would be difficult to see imagine another director taking on such as challenge with so much confidence and flair.

Which moves us to James Franco's Oscar-nominated lead performance. If this film is a reliable source, and due to the fact it has received Ralston's stamp of authenticity I imagine it is, Aron Ralston is a complete nob head, and is exactly the type of person I would avoid in real life. He is careless, arrogant and cocky, and is only interested in fulfilling his own desires. Franco manages to convince of this totally, and yet I found myself rooting for him as his situation worsens. It's a staggering performance, and from the other I've seen in the Best Actor category (Jeff Bridges and Jesse Eisenberg), he is my favourite. It's a performance of maturity, and in some scenes he is reminiscent of a young Robert De Niro. It's not mean feat to carry a 90 minute film almost completely by yourself, and it hasn't been done so well since Tom Hanks did it in the underrated Cast Away (2000). The scene in which Ralston stages a pretend game-show into his video camera with himself as both host and guest, Franco delivers both shame and over-the-top insanity as Ralston reflects on his attitudes and his recklessness. It's a fantastic scene for Franco, and deserves to win him the Oscar alone.

Not to say that their aren't problems with the film. Towards the end it begins to get unnecessarily sentimental as Ralston starts to think of his family, who he has constantly neglected, watching over him. And when the 'long-awaited' arm removal scene comes, I didn't know what to make of it. Boyle uses sound effects and quick editing which renders the scene easier to watch, and I wasn't sure whether to see this as a cop-out or not. I felt that it is something Ralston went through and it would only be right to show it how it happened, but on the other hand it is more tastefully done. It could have been exploitative in the hands of a poorer director, and I suppose it heightens the absurdity of his circumstance. Given the height of disillusionment and dehydration he was in at the time, he probably didn't experience it in a regular way anyway.

A solid survival flick, and a refreshingly stylish take on it. It deserves to be seen for Franco's performance alone, who I assume will prosper from this to become a highly-sought after leading man.


Directed by: Danny Boyle
Starring: James Franco, Kate Mara, Amber Tamblyn, Treat Williams, Clémence Poésy, Lizzy Caplan
Country: USA/UK

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #22: 'A Man Escaped' (1956)

There have been many films down the years focusing on escaping from prison. Whether it be the wrongly imprisoned facing the injustice of the prison system (The Shawshank Redemption (1994)), scouting a group of misfit characters to forge a masterplan to be carried out on a grand scale (The Great Escape (1963)), or the simply plain ridiculous (Escape To Victory (1981)), director's have seemingly always had a fascination with escape. Perhaps it's a mixture of the desperation and excitement of breaking free and rebelling against a suppressive system. Of all the prison movies I've seen, none have been as focused, thrilling, or as involving as Robert Bresson's A Man Escaped.

It follows French resistance fighter Fontaine (Francois Letterier) as he is being exported to Nazi prison Fort Montluc during WWII. He instantly seizes a chance to escape on his way but is quickly re-captured and thrown back in the car. We see from the off that Fontaine is an opportunist, and will do everything in his power to battle against his situation. Upon arriving at Montluc, Fontaine quickly begins to devise his plan of escape by obtaining a safety pin which he uses to unlock his handcuffs, but upon being moved to a higher cell his handcuffs are removed anyway. He steals a spoon from the cafeteria, which he uses to slowly chip away a his cell door, filing and scratching the sides of the panels until it can be completely removed, leaving him able to roam the halls at night and plan his escape further.

His plan is thrown into disarray with the arrival of young soldier Francois (Charles Le Clainche) who bears the uniforms of both the French and German army. Fontaine must decide whether to trust this possibly spy and take him on his escape, or to kill him. Upon Francois' arrival, Fontaine also learns that his activities working for the French resistance have earned him the death sentence, so must quickly escape or face his fate. The film is based on the memoirs of Andre Devigny and his experiences imprisoned by the Nazis.

Bresson's genius shines through in this film with his ability to conjure nail-biting tension in the tiniest of things. Fontaine spends most of his time squatted in front of his cell door, filing down the door panels with his blunt spoon, and it's these scenes where you feel the excitement of Fontaine's slow progression, and the elation of the eventual success. The focus stays on Fontaine, as he conspires with his fellow inmates and slowly executes his plan. We see little of the Nazis and how they treat the inmates, and we don't need to, we know they were quite the bastards and weren't very nice. The fear of being at their will is written on Fontaine's face, and it's much more powerful for that.

This is a prison escape movie carried out with pinpoint precision by a masterful director. This is the first Bresson I've seen and I'll be seeking out many more when I get the chance. This is character study mixed with the intensity of a thriller. I have only experienced a similar feeling with Henri-Georges Clouzot's The Wages Of Fear (1953). The prison genre will most likely forever be eclipsed by The Shawshank Redemption, but this film deserves to equally regarded.


Directed by: Robert Bresson
Starring: François Leterrier, Charles Le Clainche, Maurice Beerblock
Country: France

Rating: *****

Tom Gillespie

Review #21: 'Hunger' (2008)

Hunger tells the story of the build up and event of the 1981 Irish hunger strike at H.M. Prison Maze, which was led by Irish Republican Army (IRA) volunteer Bobby Sands. The purpose of the strike was to protest against the British government to recognise the politics of republicanism, and to promote to the general public, an understanding of Northern Ireland's desire for independence from 'British' politics. Sands was previously involved in other prison strikes which were unsuccessful, but it was his 66 days of hunger strike that got Margret Thatchers Conservative government to take notice, and effectively paved the way for Northern Ireland's political independence in the form of Sinn Fein, completely radicalising British politics. During the 66 days of hunger strike, Sands was elected into British Parliament, as M.P. of Fermanagh and South Tyrone.

Directed by artist/filmmaker Steve McQueen, who was previously known for winning Britain's controversial Turner prize in 1999. As usual, the awards create a barrage of the public abuse, with (mainly Daily Mail readers') outcry's stating that this is not art. Most of McQueen's work is film, displayed in art galleries, and are usually static camerawork. The most famous piece that was part of his Turner collection, Deadpan (1997), was a short, one camera shot of McQueen himself, stood static as the front of a wooden building falls down, but McQueen is still able to stand as he stood at the spot where an open window is. This is a recreation of a famous Buster Keaton routine. Hunger is McQueen's first Narrative work. Steve also co-wrote the screenplay with Irish playwright, Enda Walsh, who has subsequently adapted his own play, Chatroom (2010), into a screenplay that was directed by Hideo Nakata. Hunger won the Camera D'Or at the 2008 Cannes film festival.

McQueen continues his previous style of filmmaking, with use of many static shots. The camera very rarely moves. This perpetuates a sense of dread within the prison walls, and completely gives the idea to the viewer of the mundanity of day-to-day living in such a high security prison. In the first half of the film we do not meet Bobby Sands (Michael Fassbender), but are introduced to firstly a prison guard Raymond Lohan (played by Stuart Graham), who we see floating through his day, evidently miserable and probably pretty terrified of the IRA. We are also presented with Gerry Campbell - who is new to the prison (Liam McMahon) - and Davey Gillen (Brian Milligan), who have to share a cell. The walls of the cell are covered in Gillen's own excrement. The sense of despair within these walls is palpable. The prisoner's spend all of their time in these small cells, the only time they're out of these is if they are being beaten, or are forced to the bathrooms, viciously have their hair cut, then are thrown into baths and scrubbed with hard-bristle brooms.

Bridging the first and second acts of the film is (what I think to be the best scene of the film) a conversation between Sands and Father Dominic Moran (Liam Cunningham). In this long sequence, almost entirely as a static shot, Sands tells of his plan to go on hunger strike (whilst this scene could be viewed as heavy exposition, after a practically dialogue-free first half, the script works incredibly well in hiding this, and the conversation seems natural), and this leads Moran to question the morality of this 'protest'. He objects as it is suicide.

The last act of the film shows the deterioration of the human body when it is exposed to the effects of hunger. This causes massive internal injuries to the stomach, blood-sugar and heart rate. Sands is constantly monitored in the prison hospital. This last part is acted incredibly by Fassbender, who clearly lost a lot of weight, and portrays in anguish of his slowly withering, dying body. The film has no musical score, its only sounds are background. This also highlights the full emptiness, and despair of prison life. Despite its serious, and horrific subject matter, the film is one of beauty, the long, static shots, leaving you time to soak up the atmosphere in the mise-en-scene, giving you the sense of mundanity. It certainly is a film deserving of the many awards it got. I just can't believe it took me this long to get around to watch.


Directed by: Steve McQueen
Starring: Michael Fassbender, Liam Cunningham, Liam McMahon
Country: UK/Ireland

Rating: ****

Marc Ivamy

Review #20: 'Le Dîner de Cons' (1998)

French comedy has always been something of a required taste. Whether it be the madcap, over-the-top physical comedy of Gerard Pires' 1998 Taxi, or the outrageous campness of 1978's La Cage Aux Folles, it's always been a hit-and-miss affair for me. One of France's more critically-acclaimed comedies, Le Diner De Cons (Dinner For Idiots), pretty much sums these feelings up for me. On one hand I found it clever, hilarious, and refreshingly savage, yet on the other hand I found it clumsy, obvious, and a bit up it's own arse.

It tells the story of a Parisian bourgeois Pierre Broachant (Thierry Lhermitte), a successful publisher who every week attends a dinner where the upper class get together and each bring along someone they consider an 'idiot' for their amusement. These 'idiots' are usually someone in a boring job and who have a peculiar interest or hobby. Each week a winner is selected when the biggest idiot is chosen. Pierre can't believe his luck when a friend recommends Francois Pignon (Jacques Villeret), who has a passion for building replicas of famous architecture out of matchsticks. Pierre pretends to be interested in publishing a book of all Francois' works, and invites him round to get a feel for him before taking him to dinner.

The day doesn't start well for Pierre when he injures his back playing tennis which renders him unable to attend the dinner, and his wife walks out on him after being tired of his sadistic dinners and overall feeling of arrogant superiority. When Francois arrives, Pierre is gobsmacked at the man's ineptitude and general stupidity, and is visibly excited about the prospect of taking him to dinner. But as the day goes on, Pierre finds it difficult to get rid of him. Francois' lack of social skills land Pierre into hot water, and only digs a bigger hole when he tries to resolve the situation.

The film takes a while to get into it's stride, spending the first 30-40 minutes basically showing what arseholes Pierre and his friends are. It's such an obvious and rather lazy attack on upper class arrogance that I failed to raise more than a smile during the first half. It's the kind of social commentary that Bunuel and Godard were so successful at in the 60's and 70's, and especially in the case of Bunuel, were also very funny. Thank God, then, that when the second half kicks in, the comedy starts to hit it's mark and the laughs come. Francois bumbles from one scene to the next - mistaking Pierre's wife for his mistress, inviting a tax inspector over when the house is full of undeclared antiques - and as Pierre disillusionment increases, the laughs come thicker and faster.

It's a fantastic performance by Villeret (who sadly died in 2005). He truly is an idiot, and doesn't overplay it . Same can be said for Lhermitte, who has to put in a much more subtle performance in stark contract to the Tati-esque baffoonery of Villeret. Watch this before you see the American remake Dinner For Schmucks (2010), starring Paul Rudd and Steve Carrell. I haven't see it, but judging from the trailer something tells me that this one will be superior.


Directed by: Francis Veber
Starring: Thierry Lhermitte, Jacques Villeret, Francis Huster
Country: France

Rating: ***

Tom Gillespie

Review #19: 'General Idi Amin Dada: Autoportrait' (1974)

Watching Forest Whitaker's performance as Ugandan military dictator Idi Amin in 2006's slightly disappointing The Last King Of Scotland, and then watching this, Barbet Schroeder's fantastic 1974 documentary about the same man, you have to applaud Whitaker's Oscar winning depiction. He not only grasped the man's sense of humour and desire for approval, but his terrifying ferocity which led to Amin being one of the most loathed and feared rulers in recent history. Yet if ever an Oscar was truly deserved, the Academy should have handed Idi Amin himself the award for Best Actor in 1974. The term 'autoportrait' (self-portrait) is cleverly used in the title, as that is exactly what it is. This might seem like a fly-on-the-wall depiction of a man narrating through his everyday duties, yet the film is very much controlled as much as Kevin Macdonald's fictional film was. Only it's not the director that is calling the shots in this film.

The film is one-half cinema verite and one half an Amin vanity project, and plaudits to Schroeder to let it happen, as it reveals much more about Amin as it would if he had no participation at all, other than in front of the camera. In one scene, Amin arrives by helicopter at a small town and is greeted by a horde of screaming townsfolk, waving flags and clapping in anticipation. However, we are told, the scene has been completely set up for the documentary by Amin. Without repeatedly informing us of the influence he had on the making of the film, and on Schroeder himself, we are allowed to sit back and watch this monster bend and manipulate the truth for his own benefit. He is seen in a meeting with his ministers laying out his ideals and his expectations for his country. In this scene, Amin plays the role of both serious and committed leader, and approachable joker. He warns one of his ministers that he will take action and replace him should he fail to inform him about an aspect of his work again, to which the minister stares down and nods in understanding. We are informed by the narrator that his body is found dead in the River Nile a couple of weeks later.

The film depicts both the political and social sides of Amin. As well as his claims to being the 'last king of Scotland' and his invitation to Queen Elizabeth to visit Africa and meet 'a real man', it also shows the increasingly uneasy relationship that Amin and Uganda had at the time with neighbouring country Tanzania and their President Julius Nyerere. Amin would have you believe otherwise, laughing off these claims and joking that the two have a friendly and informal relationship (the two countries would eventually go to war between 1978 and 1979, leading to the overthrowing of Amin's regime). We also see him with his children from many wives (he was a polygamist, marrying six women) and taking Schroeder and his crew on a boat trip down the River Nile, pointing out the wildlife and talking about Uganda being the most beautiful place on the planet.

It is a terrifying insight in how politicians and military rules can use the media as a propaganda tool, and what a lack of respect they have for their people. You get the feeling throughout the film that Schroeder would like to pose more trying questions to Amin, yet because of the likelihood that the film would be shut down should he be challenged, Schroeder is forced to indulge Amin's desires. In a satisfying climax, which sees Amin allowing himself to be questioned by a board of doctors in a bid to show his accessibility, the camera zooms in close as he sits speechless after being confronted with a difficult question, and the volume on his microphone is turned up to maximum to capture every quiver in his breathing, and the thumping of his ever increasing heartbeat. 

The documentary was forced to be edited and released in two versions - one hour-long version in Uganda, and the full length version everywhere else. Amin sent spies to France to make extensive notes on the full film, which lead to the kidnapping of over a hundred French citizens residing in Uganda. According the Schroeder, he was forced to re-edit the film in order for the captives to be released. The film lay in this state until Amin's fall from power, to which the film was restored and re-released in it's entirety. 

It could almost be viewed as a companion piece to Leni Reifenstahl's landmark propaganda documentary Triumph Of The Will (1935), both of which show the length that military rulers are willing to go in order to manipulate their people. It is confusing as to why Schroeder would go on to make standard Hollywood pap such as Kiss Of Death (1995) and Murder By Numbers (2002), as this is a fascinating insight into the mind of a fascinating man. 

Directed by: Barbet Schroeder
Starring: Idi Amin
Country: France/Switzerland

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #18: 'Last House on Dead End Street' (1977)

Written, directed, produced and staring Roger Watkins (he used the pseudonym Victor Janos for this title), in 1973, but not released until later - he had only previously (and subsequently) made porn movies, Last House on Dead End Street is a grueling piece of cinema. This is not to say that the gore (or special effects), are of particular note, but that it is, in the essence of the film, an incredibly hateful, almost evil one, that pervades the raw material of the cheep 16mm home-style movie cameras. The title was a cash-in, by distributors, of the success of The Last House on the Left (1972), but was previously named The Cuckoo Clocks of Hell, and The Funhouse. The film poster also "used" the ...on the Left tag line: 'It's only a movie....only a movie'.

Terry Hawkins (played by Watkins), is a pornographer, who wants to film something new, something different. He settles on the idea of making a snuff movie. It would be quite an epic, as Hawkins finds a derelict mansion, with many empty rooms, decaying and dank. He invites friends over to 'make a movie' - albeit people who had fucked him off in some way. They are humiliated, abused, and many don't survive. Hawkins is the "snuff" movie director, barking a vicious hate from his very soul (this is quite tense and realistic acting from the actor). You can believe these excruciating scenes seem painfully real, as Watkins/Hawkins genuinely excretes animosity, to the other actors, to the audience. At moments during the filming, another cameraman would move the lens of his 16mm camera towards the screen we see. The audience is almost made implicit to the horrific torture played out on screen, the camera now staring into your eyes, watching you viewing gruesome terror.

The film has many of these harsh and morally contentious moments. You do question yourself whilst watching. It actually does appear to have been made by a psychopath. In one strange sequence, a man is forced to suck on an animals hoof that is phallically protruding from the unzipped trousers of a woman. There is a lot of pseudo-Grecian mythological iconography here. Masks and mild symbolism can be seen in the 'rituals' of the torture/killings.

It is an exercise in sadism, much more gruesome than modern day torture-porn (also known as gorenography) such as Hostel (2005), or the Saw (2004-2010) franchise. This is because it gets under our skin with its deep-rooted malevolence, and its ability to almost scrutinise us. The amateurish stlye of the film really adds to this. The original cut of the film, has been authorised by Watkins, was nearly 3 hours long. Not sure if could handle the 'directors cut' for this one. Filmed in New York, it could almost have been an Andy Warhol film, before Paul Morrissey started directing movies for Andy Warhol Productions. I'm doubtful that I will ever watch this film again.


Directed by: Roger Watkins
Starring: Roger Watkins, Ken Fisher, Bill Schlageter
Country: USA

Rating: **

Marc Ivamy

Review #17: 'The Bitter Tears of Petra von Kant' (1972)

During his 37 years on Earth, the great German director Rainer Werner Fassbinder made a total of 41 films in his 13 year film career. Not counting the countless plays, TV series and acting gigs he did, his output was ferocious, much like his personal life. There have been many things written and spoken about Fassbinder - that he was anti-Semitic, tyrannical, misanthropic and homophobic (even though he was an open homosexual) - yet no-one will deny his raw genius and his place as a driving force in the New German Cinema movement. He made many fantastic films, and I don't think I would be alone is stating that he was at his best when dealing with melodrama, and more specifically, complex female characters.

Possibly his best known film, Fear Eats The Soul (1974), is widely considered his best, but I feel that The Bitter Tears Of Petra Von Kant shows Fassbinder at the top of his game. He usually worked with the same troupe of actors (Brigitte Mira, Kurt Raab, Karlheinz Bohm amongst others) and here he has two of his finest - Margit Carstensen as the powerful yet desperate fashion designer Petra Von Kant, and Hanna Schygulla (who played the title chartacter in Fassbinder's other masterpiece The Marriage Of Maria Braun (1979)) as her newly appointed love interest, Karin. In my opinion, Carstensen is one of the finest actresses in cinema history, along with Bette Davis and Liv Ullmann, and is never better here. She is dominating and sadistic, yet when she opens up to her cousin Sidonie (Katrin Scaake) or her new lesbian lover Karin, she is tragic, broken and lonely. It is a tour-de-force on display, as her character changes as much as she changes her hairpieces.

Petra is residing in her apartment when we first meet her, awoken by fellow designer Marlene (Irm Hermann) who stays with her. We quickly learn that Petra sadistically treats Marlene like a slave, ordering her to bring her things and even orders her to slow-dance at one point. When she is joined by her cousin, Petra reveals how her past relationships with men have ended in disaster and resentment, and that men will ultimately leave her empty and disappointed. She is introduced to Karin, a timid model who Petra visibly becomes interested in, and eventually infatuated by. As Petra and Karin start a seemingly cold and difficult relationship, Petra's jealousy and fear of loneliness comes to the fore as she struggles to hold herself together. In one particularly powerful scene, Petra sits motionless on the edge of the bed after being told by Karin how none-existent her feelings really are, and a single tear rolls slowly down her face. Her face is as white as porcelain and as motionless as a doll, as the realisation hits her that her situation is as fake as the mannequins she decorates with her creations.

Adapted from his own play, Fassbinder never moves the action outside Petra's claustrophobic apartment, instead allowing the pent up feelings to explode within the confines of one room. The screenplay, acting, cinematography and music is absolute perfection, and in my opinion this is Fassbinder's crowning achievement. The final scene, which I won't reveal, is in turn hilarious and heartbreaking. If you are as spellbound as I am by the acting talents of Carstensen, then I would recommend both Fear Of Fear (1975) and Satan's Brew (1976) (both Fassbinder) to see the full range of her ability. Possibly the finest film of the New German Cinema movement.


Directed by: Rainer Werner Fassbinder
Starring: Margit Carstensen, Hanna Schygulla, Katrin Schaake
Country: West Germany

Rating: *****

Tom Gillespie