Review #1,317: 'The Shape of Water' (2017)

Guillermo del Toro's latest immersive fantasy spectacle began life as a remake of one of the Mexican director's favourite movies of all time - the iconic monster movie Creature from the Black Lagoon. When he pitched his plans to Universal, perhaps as part of their troubled 'Dark Universe' franchise which kicked off last year with spectacular misfire The Mummy, he wanted to tell a love story between the Gill-Man and a woman from the perspective of the titular creature. This idea, which sounds like a dream for film buffs but a turn-off for studio executives, was rejected outright, presumably being for too risque for mainstream audiences. Del Toro stuck with it anyway, and the script turned into The Shape of Water. Would the same film have nabbed the Best Picture at this year's Academy Awards if it was titled Creature from the Black Lagoon? I think not, so it worked out well for everybody apart from Universal, who are probably still licking their wounds from last year's Tom Cruise-starring horror show.

The Shape of Water tells the story of Elisa Esposito (Sally Hawkins), a mute lady who lives in an almost dreamlike apartment above a barely-used cinema called The Orpheum. We quickly learn everything we need to know about her in a wonderfully edited opening sequence, in which she boils eggs, masturbates in the bath, and pays a visit to her neighbour Giles (Richard Jenkins), all before heading off to a top secret government facility where she works as a cleaner. Giles spends most of his time alone with his cats in his apartment, paying the bills by drawing product advertisements, occasionally venturing out to buy pies from a nearby diner and lust after the young man behind the counter. Elisa's best friend and co-worker Zelda (Octavia Spencer) saves her a space in the queue for the clocking-in machine every morning, and has learned sign language so the two can chit-chat whilst carrying out their mundane job of cleaning piss up off the floor and, much to Zelda's befuddlement, the ceiling.

This is 1962 America, where the happy (and white) nuclear family is the very definition of achieving the American dream, but also where minorities are still looked down upon. It's no accident that Elisa, who rarely stops smiling even when she is treated differently for her affliction, is closest to and most comfortable around a gay man and a black woman. The arrival of a strange amphibian humanoid from a swamp in South America and the loving bond it gradually forms with Elisa represents a threat to this very American way of life, at least in the eyes of Richard Strickland, a brutish military official who caught the creature, played with sheer menace by Michael Shannon. Strickland wants to cut the creature open to learn if its abilities can be forged into some kind of weapon, and to keep it out of the hands of the Soviets. Mild-mannered scientist Robert Hoffstetler (Michael Stuhlbarg) wants to keep it alive for further study, but Strickland is given the green light by his superior.

What follows is a daring break-out and Elisa's efforts to keep the stranger hidden in her apartment. The story isn't exactly ground-breaking, and you can probably work out where the film is heading quite early on. However, The Shape of Water isn't a film about surprises and twists, but a strange tale of forbidden love to utterly immerse yourself in. Most directors would struggle to capture a sex scene between a beautiful woman and a slimy fish man with a straight face, but del Toro somehow makes the whole thing feel natural, and most importantly, incredibly beautiful. Longtime del Toro collaborator Doug Jones does some stellar physical work as the creature, forging a chemistry with Hawkins without the benefit of facial expressions or dialogue, relying on otherworldly howls and the odd bit of sign language to communicate. It warrants comparison to del Toro's Pan's Labyrinth, and although it's not as good as the 2006 Oscar-winning masterpiece, it shares much of its creepy magic and vintage character design, and also reflects on a country's troubled past. It's the riskiest and best work del Toro has done since. Suck in a deep breath and take a plunge.


Directed by: Guillermo del Toro
Starring: Sally Hawkins, Michael Shannon, Richard Jenkins, Octavia Spencer, Michael Stuhlbarg, Doug Jones
Country: USA

Rating: *****

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,181: 'Nocturnal Animals' (2016)

Seven year after fashion designer Tom Ford surprised everyone by delivering a tender, stylish romance with A Single Man, the writer/director returns for another tale of romantic exploration tinged with danger and sadness. Adapted from Austin Wright's 1993 novel Tony and Susan and renamed Nocturnal Animals for the screen, Ford expertly weaves three narratives, each with their unique look, tone and mood, into a brooding character study. One of the few criticisms thrown at A Single Man was its tendency to place style above substance, but I disagreed at the time, and offer Nocturnal Animals as proof that Ford is a skilled director who balances aesthetic and narrative seamlessly, and often to devastating effect.

The film opens with shocking images of obese women dancing provocatively, and naked, in front of the camera. It's the opening of artist Susan Morrow's (Amy Adams) latest work, and it's a hit amongst the champagne-guzzlers who occupy the room. Susan seems to have everything: a lavish, modern mansion; a wardrobe full of expensive clothes; and a dashing (and rich) husband in Hutton (Armie Hammer). Everything, that is, other than happiness. At a dinner with her pompous artists friends (including a scene-stealing Michael Sheen), she voices her concerns about her husband's suspected affairs and her struggle to take herself seriously in her line of work. As Hutton jets off on a business trip, Susan is home alone when she receives a package from her ex-husband Tony (Jake Gyllenhaal). It's a draft of his finished novel, called Nocturnal Animals.

There a multiple stories within the film, and we are transported into the novel as Susan reads it. It begins with a family driving down a deserted highway at night when they are suddenly run off the road by a group of rednecks. The father (also Gyllenhaal) attempts to diffuse the situation by offering to pay for the damages, but the hooligans, headed by the psychopathic Ray Marcus (Aaron Taylor-Johnson) wind up kidnapping the wife and daughter. The further this dark, violent tale takes us, the clearer it becomes that it is mirroring Susan's reality, and that there may be a hidden message in there somewhere. Is Tony fucking with his ex-wife for a prior incident, or could it be his bizarre way of trying to win back her affections?  Either way, this fictional narrative clearly holds the key to unravelling the couple's part turmoil, and the mindset of both Tony and Susan after their marriage fell apart.

The performances are impressive throughout. Adams demands your attention whenever she graces the screen, expressing the most powerful of emotions with the subtlest of facial movements. Michael Shannon, who was shockingly the only one of the four leads to receive an Oscar nod, is particularly memorable as a long-past-giving-a-fuck Texan lawman riddled with cancer. Yet it's Ford who emerges as the star, delivering an expertly crafted crime psychodrama that is both a curious study of the grotesque bourgeois and a lean, mean Texas revenge thriller. While it's certainly true that the male characters are much more layered than the females, the film received unfair accusations of misogyny upon its release, which may explain its absence from the major categories during awards season. It's a shame, as Nocturnal Animals deserves some recognition for its intoxicating cocktail of Hitchcockian tension, gritty human drama, and decadent visuals.


Directed by: Tom Ford
Starring: Amy Adams, Jake Gyllenhaal, Michael Shannon, Aaron Taylor-Johnson, Isla Fisher, Ellie Bamber, Armie Hammer, Michael Sheen, Andrea Riseborough
Country: USA

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,043: 'Midnight Special' (2016)

Billed as writer/director Jeff Nichols' first venture into mainstream film-making and his first stab at a genre piece, Midnight Special still manages to keep things grounded and rugged despite its sci-fi credentials. Clearly a throw-back to the alien-among-us movies of the 1980's, such as E.T. The Extra Terrestrial (1982) and Starman (1984) - movies Nichols no doubt grew up watching - there are shady government officials, a suspicious cult, a sympathetic young investigator, a protective father, and a young boy with some astonishing, otherworldly abilities. Yet there's also the Southern setting, an unhurried pace and the presence of Michael Shannon, all key ingredients in the film-maker's oeuvre that help Midnight Special avoid being yet another homage to a bygone era.

The film begins rather frantically as two men, Roy (Shannon) and his old friend Lucas (Joel Edgerton), escape some unknown threat in the middle of the night with a young boy, adorned with UV-blocking goggles, in the back seat. Their intentions are shady, and we soon learn that the FBI are hunting the men in the hope of rescuing the child, Alton (Jaeden Lieberher), who is clearly special in some unique way. Alton is Roy's son, and it's revealed that his father took him away from a shady cult led by the enigmatic Calvin Meyer (Sam Shepard), whose nightly sermons would consist of seemingly random numbers that were once spoken by prophetic Alton. As the curious investigator Paul Sevier (Adam Driver) tries to unravel the mystery of the boy and the reasons for his abduction, Roy and Lucas must dodge state troopers and gun-wielding cult members to deliver Alton to his excommunicated mother Sarah (Kirsten Dunst) and prepare for the huge event that has been prophesied.

For what is essentially a chase movie, Midnight Special moves incredibly slow at times. While the bursts of action or sudden violence that pepper the film are all the more exciting because of the shuffling pace, it can be a bit of slog at times, especially when the movie keeps you in the dark about a lot of which is going on. It very much reminded me of Nichols's second film, Take Shelter (2011), in which Shannon's troubled father's possible descent into madness manifests itself in his obsession over building a bunker that would shield his family from whatever catastrophic event he foresees. While the mystery was one of the main aspects that helped make that movie incredibly memorable, it does somewhat take away some of the sense of wonder in Midnight Special, even though it would seem that Nichols chose to reveal little until the end to do just the opposite.

Despite its pacing flaws, the film is still incredibly absorbing. The Southern setting is one I find oddly romantic, and Nichols is a master at immersing you in the world, something he did astonishingly well in the land of swamps and charismatic outlaws in 2012's Matthew McConaughey-starring Mud. The world of fleapit motels, empty, neon-lit gas stations and tough, righteous men is the perfect fit for a story rooted in science-fiction. There's something timeless about the setting, and this helps Midnight Special achieve its hat-tipping to the works of Spielberg, Carpenter et al. Nichols also does wonders with the film's humble budget, creating a few standout set-pieces that work better than most CGI-overkill blockbusters. Yet at its heart, the film remains a family drama with the fatherly bond between Roy and Alton always front and centre, and Nichols has stated that it is very much his reaction to becoming a father. It may not be everyone's cup of tea - I'm sure mainstream audiences will be put of by its leisurely pace - but Midnight Special is a rewarding experience if you stick with it.


Directed by: Jeff Nichols
Starring: Michael Shannon, Joel Edgerton, Kirsten Dunst, Jaeden Lieberher, Adam Driver, Bill Camp, Scott Haze, Sam Shepard, Paul Sparks
Country: USA/Greece

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #997: 'The Night Before' (2015)

The premise of Seth Rogen's latest man-child comedy The Night Before, along with the casting of three of mainstream cinemas most likeable actors, may seem like catnip to fans of Rogen's previous hits Knocked Up, Superbad (both 2007) and 50/50 (2011). Yet while his best films cleverly and carefully toe the line between dick-jokes and genuine sweetness, The Night Before contains plenty of the former but previous little of the latter. It also falls at the first comedy hurdle by simply not being very funny despite some chemistry between its leads.

Best friends Ethan (Joseph Gordon-Levitt), Isaac (Rogen) and Chris (Anthony Mackie) have got together every Christmas Eve to follow a ritual and party hard, initially started as a way to help Ethan get over the death of his parents. Only now, with Isaac expecting his first child with wife Betsy (Jillian Bell) and Chris enjoying late superstardom in the NFL, they decide that this Christmas will be their last. While his friends seem to be happy and maturing, Ethan seems to sleep-walking through life, earning money from a degrading job and heartbroken following his recent split with long-term girlfriend Diana (Lizzy Caplan).

The most frustrating aspect of The Night Before are the frequent hints at the much better movie this could have been. The tender relationship between Chris and his mother, along with an expletive-laden selfie rant by a drug-addled Isaac freaking out at the imminent arrival of his child, prove only fleeting moments of sentiment and laugh-out-loud hilarity. Isaac and Chris both have potentially complex obstacles to overcome, but the movie deals with them routinely and thoughtlessly. And Ethan, admittedly played with an earnestness by Gordon-Levitt, makes for drippy company. Only the scenes between him and Diana provide any hint of spark to his character as the naturalistic back-and-forth between the pair make for a believable and likeable recently-broken-up-couple-who-still-love-each-other.

So without the charm of Knocked Up, the awkward brotherly bonding of Superbad or the heart of 50/50, The Night Before is reduced to little more than dirty jokes, drug-taking and celebrity cameos. The final destination for the trio is the illusive Nutcracker Ball, for which Ethan has snagged tickets. When they get there, its hard to see what the fuss is all about, and appearances from James Franco and Miley Cyrus - appearing as themselves and mocking their own tabloid personas - feel unnecessary and forced. An extended role for Michael Shannon, popping up every now and then as pot dealer Mr Green, is easily the best character in the film, but even his impact is reduced when director Jonathan Levine tries to over-explain him and introduce a fantastical element into the story. You can pull it completely apart, but the films main crime is that is simply isn't funny enough.


Directed by: Jonathan Levine
Starring: Joseph Gordon-Levitt, Seth Rogen, Anthony Mackie, Jillian Bell, Lizzy Caplan, Michael Shannon, Mindy Kaling
Country: USA

Rating: **

Tom Gillespie

Review #670: 'Jonah Hex' (2010)

Jonah Hex is a project that seemed doomed from the start. It has all the ingredients for a great movie - a too-cool-to-be-true premise, an extraordinary cast, a rarely seen (in the comic book universe) Wild West setting, and a cult following thanks to DC Comics' graphic novels. But if you look at other movies of its kind - Constantine (2005), Ghost Rider (2007) etc. - it was never going to work. The studio system or just plain bad writing always seems to get in the way. And Jonah Hex is quite possibly the most terrible of them all. Josh Brolin snarls and grunts his way through a solid performance, but he does not manage to save this absolute mess of a movie.

Jonah Hex served as a Confederate solider during the American Civil War. We learn through a fast-tracking prologue that shortly after the war, the evil Quentin Turnbull (John Malkovich) murdered Jonah's entire family, and branded his face with a terrible wound that leaves him disfigured. He is left for dead but nursed back to health by some native Americans, that somehow leave him with the ability to talk to the dead. Believing Turnbull burned to a crisp in a hotel fire, Jonah turns to bounty hunting to earn his living, proving highly efficient at the job. But when Turnbull re-emerges with his mad Irish cronie Burke (Michael Fassbender) and the threat of a terrorist attack, President Grant (Aidan Quinn) hires Jonah to take him out and save the day.

After the quick-fire introduction that zips through Jonah Hex's backstory so fast that you simply cannot care about him, we are introduced to the familiar hooker-with-a-heart Lilah (Megan Fox), who is inexplicably in love with Jonah. They share one scene together with no hint as to why these two characters even like each other (although I'm sure I know why Jonah enjoys visiting Lilah), and are not reunited until the climax when we are expected to give a damn about these two making it through the explosions and gunfire. Writers Brian Taylor and Mark Neveldine (who like to refer to themselves as simply Taylor/Neveldine - oh, please) don't seem to have heard of character-building or pacing, but when you look at their back catalogue then this can hardly be a surprise.

The most depressing thing is that the actors do their best and are largely successful with their cardboard characters, which makes it even more confusing as to how this was screwed up so badly. Nothing is explained properly - how did Turnbull escape the fire that apparently killed him/why do we only see Jonah revive the dead twice/why is Turnbull so pissed at the government? - and the fact that we are simply expected to accept this is offensive. I know, I know, this is a comic-book movie, but the action is so dull and ridiculous (dynamite guns!) that the aspect that we expect to be at least not bad is not there in order for us to forgive its many flaws. If there's one good thing to say about the film, it's that Jonah Hex's prosthetics are good, but the fact that I'm praising the make-up department shows how badly I'm clutching at straws.


Directed by: Jimmy Hayward
Starring: Josh Brolin, John Malkovich, Megan Fox, Michael Fassbender, Will Arnett, Michael Shannon, Wes Bentley, Aidan Quinn
Country: USA

Rating: *

Tom Gillespie

Review #669: 'Man of Steel' (2013)

Dumping the light tone of the original Richard Donner Superman films (1978/1980) and their ridiculous sequels, as well as Bryan Singer's failed reboot, Zack Snyder's Man of Steel adopts the Christopher Nolan approach. With Nolan as producer and co-writer, this is Clark Kent seen through the eyes of a steely, saturated lens, with Henry Cavill's somewhat stoic and monotone Superman battling inner demons as well as General Zod (Michael Shannon). It's a typically long, convoluted modern blockbuster, but Man of Steel prevails thanks to some surprisingly dedicated focus by Snyder, who abandons the slo-then-fast-mo stylings of 300 (2006) and Sucker Punch (2011) for something much more grown-up.

The movie begins on Krypton, where Jar-El (Russell Crowe), delighted with the planet's first natural birth in centuries in his son Kal-El, pleads with the leaders to help save the planet from inevitable destruction. Enter the usurping Zod, who is leading a coup to overthrow the leaders and re-establish Krypton as a real power. Zod is furious at the birth of Kal-El aka Clark Kent, but Jar-El manages to blast his son off into space towards Earth before Zod overpowers him. Cut forward some years and Kent is working on a fishing vessel, at ease with his powers. When the military discover an alien craft in the Arctic, Kent infiltrates the mission and discovers his origins from the preserved conscience of his father. Meanwhile, Zod is approaching Earth with plans to use the planet to re-create Krypton.

It's clear from the off that this is no regular superhero origin film. Snyder manages to somehow bring a grounded realism to Krypton - giant human-carrying dragonflies and all. We then skip Kent's entire upbringing to witness his natural inclinations for good as he saves some oil rig workers from certain death, displaying the powers he is now at ease with. Through some beautifully realised and melancholy flashback scenes that evoke the style of Terence Malick, Kent's parents (played by Kevin Costner and Diane Lane), gradually teach him that he is different and has a much greater purpose than he could imagine. Costner is superb in these moments, bringing an old-hand, gravel-voiced weight that I have never seen from him before. Similar to Snyder's Watchmen (2009), these flashbacks are peppered throughout the film, yet don't damage the flow of the central story.

Where the film fails is in the action-heavy climax that lasts for pretty much the entire final hour. Zod and his cronies battle Superman and smash each other to a pulp. It's very similar to the climax of Thor (2011), that also had impossibly strong super-beings battle ten tons of shit out of each other because, well, what else can they do? Buildings collapse, explosions litter the screen, but there's very little tension. It switches the action between Superman and the Daily Planet, where Laurence Fishburne's Perry White serves no purpose other than to save some people from falling rubble. Perhaps it's setting the scene for future instalments, but they seem rather intrusive here.

The same could also be said about Amy Adams' Lois Lane, who is a spunky, determined character diminished to a simple love interest for Kent without any real chemistry. Of course she's important to the Superman universe, but there is no real dimension to her persona. Michael Shannon, however, is reliably excellent in his role, and his Zod incarnation is by far the most interesting thing about the film. He's a sympathetic bad guy akin to Tom Hiddleston's Loki, to the point where you can fully understand his reasoning. The man plans on genocide, but this was the role he was raised to play, and his determination to re-establish his race is certainly understandable. You can even see that Superman knows this, but he always knows that he must destroy him, whatever the odds.

Overall I was extremely impressed by Man of Steel, and its flaws can certainly be forgiven. This is a mature movie with underlying themes. Superman is God, an indestructible force (to us mere humans) that possesses too much power to be at ease with, even when he assures them that they are on the same side. The religious metaphors are embarrassingly obvious at times, but it's a thought-provoking sub-theme and a nice alternative to the crash-bang-wallop of the action scenes. Although it's not up to the ridiculously high standards set by Christopher Nolan, this can sit nicely alongside his Dark Knight trilogy (2005-2012) in the re-imagining of DC's universe.


Directed by: Zack Snyder
Starring: Henry Cavill, Amy Adams, Michael Shannon, Diane Lane, Russell Crowe, Kevin Costner, Antje Traue, Laurence Fishburne
Country: USA/Canada/UK

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #661: 'Mud' (2012)

Similar to his excellent 2011 feature Take Shelter, writer/director Jeff Nichols delivers another exceptional slice of small-town Americana. Mud's story is small, and its characters hail from some backwood town in rural Arkansas, living on makeshift boathouses on the Mississippi River. Yet although the focus is on these small people and their ordinary existence, there seems to be something larger and grander in its execution. Take Shelter showed a man's (possible) mental deterioration as he envisioned the apocalypse. In Mud, a very grown-up tale is seen through the eyes of two 14 year old boys, and theme that runs throughout is love. Yet there's always the feeling that the fate of the eponymous Mud (Matthew McConaughey) and Juniper (Reese Witherspoon) could somehow have global consequences, and that if they are doomed then so are we all.

After hearing about a boat that lies at the top of a tree as the result of a flood, two teenage boys, Ellis (Tye Sheridan) and Neckbone (Jacob Lofland), travel to an island on the Mississippi River in a speed boat. They find the boat, but they also find Mud, a rugged drifter with a gun, who asks the boys to get him food in exchange for the boat. It becomes evident that Mud is an outlaw, but the boys stay true to their word and deliver the food. Mud tells them the story of Juniper, the woman he loves, and hands them a note to deliver to her. As the boys seek her out in her motel room, they find her being abused by a man who is the brother of a man that Mud murdered. Despite the dangers, Ellis stays loyal to Mud and carries out the tasks he is asked to do.

There is more than just a hint of Mark Twain to the story, but Mud is successful in combining a number of genres - Southern gothic, coming-of-age drama, and sometimes even your standard man-on-the-run thriller. Cinematographer Adam Stone, who worked with Nichols on Take Shelter and his debut Shotgun Stories (2007), captures the Mississippi River immaculately, portraying its mythic qualities so lyrically that you may think it was capable of washing Mud up on the shore of its empty island. The world seems both peaceful and violent, two themes so contrasting that we can only be seeing this world from the viewpoint of Ellis' naive and innocent mind.

The cast is stellar. McConaughey seems well on his way to redeeming himself for his years of service to terrible rom-coms with an impressive performance, harking back to his early appearance in the magnificent Lone Star (1996). Small roles for Sam Shepard and Michael Shannon round off an impressive cast, and Ray McKinnon and Sarah Paulson (both former Deadwood actors) inject raw emotion into their roles as Ellis' separating parents. But it was Tye Sheridan that stole the show for me, giving a performance way beyond his years as the honest and headstrong Ellis. The scene in which he is humiliated by the girl he thought was his girlfriend, the expression etched across Sheridan's face becomes something more profound than simple confusion. Although it dips into a slightly disappointing and generic shoot-out climax, Mud is a fine film, and one that reminds us what it is like to love, as ugly and unpredictable as it can be.


Directed by: Jeff Nichols
Starring: Matthew McConaughey, Tye Sheridan, Reese Witherspoon, Jacob Lofland, Sam Shepard, Ray McKinnon, Sarah Paulson, Michael Shannon
Country: USA

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #648: 'The Iceman' (2012)

Having developed a morbid fascination with serial killers over the past few years, I was delighted to hear that Richard Kuklinski, one of the most prolific and emotionless mass murderers in history, was to be given the cinematic treatment. Not only was his story ripe for a juicy adaptation, but Michael Shannon, the most consistently mesmerising actor working in film today, was cast as the titular Iceman. Sadly, inexperienced director Ariel Vromen, who up to this point had only made two films I've never heard of, has delivered a by-the-numbers biopic; one that follows familiar genre conventions and whitewashes Kuklinski's story completely in favour of a formula that a mainstream audience can comfortably follow.

After being impressed by his towering frame and generally intimidating nature, mob boss Roy DeMeo (Ray Liotta), who is in the employ of the Gambino crime family, takes the young Richard Kuklinski under his wing. To get a feel for him, DeMeo tells Kuklinski to kill at tramp in broad daylight, to which Kuklinski coldly obeys . Soon enough, Kuklinski is carrying out mob hits for DeMeo, while telling his clueless wife Deborah (Winona Ryder) that he is in finance. He meets fellow contract killer Robert 'Mr. Freezy' Prongay (Chris Evans), who teaches Kuklinski the benefits of using cyanide to carry out the murders, and then freezing the bodies to rule out a time of death. But with DeMeo coming under pressure from his boss Leonard Marks (Robert Davi) for a drug deal gone wrong, Kuklinki finds himself and his family under threat.

What might have been a fascinating insight into the inner workings of a sociopath, The Iceman is nothing more than your standard straight-to-DVD mobster movie. Completely ignoring Kuklinski's natural instinct for murder (he was a serial killer long before the mob approached him) and his reputation as a merciless and cruel man, beating and killing men for the slightest of reasons, Vromen even adds a family angle that is completely untrue. To give the lead character a bit of recognisable humanity, here he is portrayed as a loving family man, dedicated to his wife and kids as the mob close around him. In fact, in real life Kuklinski was an aggressive wife-beater; a tyrannical king of the household who regularly committed acts of physical and mental abuse on his family.

Artistic license is a right that every film-maker has when conducting a biopic, but when there's a complex and fascinating story to tell, however dubious some of Kuklinski's claims are (he claims to be responsible for the murder of Jimmy Hoffa), then why make such drastic changes if all you're doing is making your subject the same character seen a thousand times before? Shannon deserves better than that, and his unnerving performance is one of the few saving graces here, but his character is reduced to nothing more than a standard mobster, seduced by the lifestyle and cutting himself off from regular life. He was a cruel, savage monster, who disposed of some of his victims by having them eaten alive by rats (or so he claims), or in one incident, he allowed his victim time to pray to God to see if he would answer his prayers, before killing him (this scene is played out in the film with James Franco as the victim).

Plot strands veer off path and are offered no resolution, making them completely redundant. Some are intriguing, such as Stephen Dorff's appearance as Kuklinski's imprisoned paedophile brother, who hints at Kuklinski's dark childhood and abuse. Others are not, such as DeMeo's right-hand man Josh Rosenthal (David Schwimmer) who is given more screentime than necessary, only for the story to fizzle out into absolutely nothing, as does DeMeo himself. Given a longer running time, a more experienced director, and ultimately more commitment to the source material (various books and recordings exist of Kukinski, the most popular being Philip Carlo's book The Iceman: Confessions of a Mafia Contratc Killer and the TV movie The Iceman Tapes), this could have been highly engrossing cinema, instead it's a crushing disappointment, saved only by Shannon's imposing performance.


Directed by: Ariel Vromen
Starring: Michael Shannon, Winona Ryder, Chris Evans, Ray Liotta, David Schwimmer, Robert Davi
Country: USA

Rating: **

Tom Gillespie

Review #613: 'My Son, My Son, What Have Ye Done' (2009)

After lying in production limbo for almost fifteen years, director Werner Herzog finally managed to make his film, loosely based on the story of Mark Yavorsky, with the help of producer David Lynch. You would think a collaboration of two such instantly recognisable auteurs may cause problems or lead to a clash of the two directors' film-making ideals, but My Son, My Son, What Have Ye Done is distinctively Herzogian, continuing the prolific German director's fascination with the quirky corners of the American South. By showing us the murder and the murderer within the first five minutes, Herzog removes any element of mystery surrounding the crime, and instead focuses on the mental disintegration of its protagonist, as well as placing his own spin on the familiar hostage crisis drama.

Detectives Havenhurst (Willem Dafoe) and Vargas (Michael Pena) arrive at the scene of a recent murder, where an elderly lady has been stabbed with an antique sword. Outside the crime scene, a man drinking coffee says something strange to Havenhurst, and shortly after, the detectives realise this man is Brad Macallam (Michael Shannon), the son of the murdered woman and also the murderer. Brad shacks himself up in his own home with two unseen hostages and a shotgun, so Havenhurst begins to delve into Brad's story, with the help of Brad's fiancé Ingrid (Chloe Sevigny) and his drama teacher Lee Meyers (Udo Kier). What they discover is a man changed by a recent trip to Peru, where he pulled out of a kayak trip at the last minute after hearing the voice of God telling him not to, only for everyone else to be killed.

This is certainly one of Herzog's 'smaller' films, following the almost mainstream and outlandish (but hugely entertaining) Bad Lieutenant earlier the same year. Yet Herzog is no stranger to budget, location and equipment constraints, and has made some of his best films under these conditions, and manages to tell an absorbing, sometime hypnotic tale of a wild man at odds with his surroundings. This is a recurring theme for Herzog - civilised man's struggle against the aggressive, unpredictable forces of nature - and here Brad seems to be isolated from society after witnessing the full force of nature at work. Why exactly does he kill his mother? No questions are truly answered, but the film is more interesting at showing you the factors that may have lead to this horrific act.

For the film to work at all, it must have an actor capable of delivering such complexities of the mind into his performance, and Shannon pulls it off perfectly. Quickly becoming my favourite working actor, Shannon is a towering presence, appearing uncomfortable in his own body, all mad eyes and slurred voice. At times it's almost hard to watch him, terrified at what he may do at any given time. Given that any mystery surrounding the murder is removed by Herzog at the beginning of the film, it's a real achievement that the film managed to be as exciting and absorbing as it is, with Herzog's unpredictable approach mixing flashbacks and faked freeze-frames with some of his familiar quirky topics such as wild animals, scarred terrains, dwarves and a haunting score. A little gem, and as Herzog and Lynch discussed in their successful meeting, "a return of essential film-making" for the director.


Directed by: Werner Herzog
Starring: Michael Shannon, Willem Dafoe, Chloë Sevigny, Udo Kier, Michael Peña, Brad Dourif
Country: USA/Germany

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #609: 'Cecil B. Demented' (2000)

Cult director John Waters has always been a favourite amongst those familiar with the 'Midnight Movie' circuit. The Midnight Movies were a bunch of films that included David Lynch's Eraserhead (1977), Alejandro Jodorowsky's El Topo (1970), and Waters' own Pink Flamingos (1972), that were screened in New York in the 1970's to an audience looking for an artistic vision that tended to push the boundaries of taste and subject matter, and led to re-discoveries of films now considered classics such as Freaks (1932) and Night of the Living Dead (1968). Waters, as well as championing the great auteurs such as Pasolini and Fassbinder, was always an outspoken fan of zero-budget schlock like Criminally Insane (1975) and the work of Herschell Gordon Lewis. And this is the focus of Cecil B. Demented, a movie essentially for cinephiles, and one that has the movie business as a whole fixed in its sights.

Hollywood starlet Honey Whitlock (Melanie Griffith) is on the verge of another smash hit when she attends the premiere in Baltimore. In front of a shocked audience and many cameras, she is kidnapped by psychopathic film director Cecil B. Demented (Stephen Dorff). Demented takes Honey back to his studio, where his loyal crew, calling themselves the Sprocket Holes, have a vision to take cinema back for the auteurs, and crush the studio system (who are in production of Forrest Gump 2). Honey is to be the star in the first of a new movement - Outlaw Cinema - a process that strips back all production values in favour of achieving ultimate reality. They have also taken a vow of chaste, and will not have sex until the movie is done. Seeing opinion of her drastically slide on television, Honey starts to sympathise with Demented's movement, and eventually she wilfully comes over to the cause.

It can be said that true satire cuts both ways, and that is certainly what Waters achieves with this. As an obsessive movie fan myself, there's many a time when I've been eager to tear down the poster of a new Zac Efron movie or punch someone in the face when they've describe how much they love Marley & Me (2008). I sometimes want to scream about how much they're missing through ignorance and that it's their fault so much shit gets made. But there's times when I've looked back at my own pretentiousness and felt embarrassed at criticising someone who ultimately wants something entirely different out of cinema than I do. Demented's bunch of misfits are nothing more than dysfunctional psychopaths; cartoon cut-outs that are too extreme to not laugh at. Waters seems to be amused more by these scarf-wearing chin-strokers than by those who inadvertently fund the studio system.

Although a lot doesn't really work in Cecil B. Demented, I still got a lot out of it. This is mainly due to the fact that I share a lot of Waters' opinions, and can get as much enjoyment out of a tacky old Larry Cohen or Herschell Gordon Lewis horror as I could with something from Godard or Bunuel. Occasionally the bad taste humour doesn't go down so well, such as the sloppy penetration sounds when the gang can finally get down to it, or the rather silly 'Demented Forever' sing-a-long, but Stephen Dorff's wide-eyed, energetic performance managed to be a nice distraction. Demented could be seen as an answer to many of Waters' fans objections to his occasional dabbling with the mainstream, with his colourful efforts Hairspray (1988) and (the very enjoyable) Serial Mom (1994) playing in direct contrast to Pink Flamingos, which infamously contains a scene of dog-shit eating. But this is a criticism and a homage to the movies, something that all cinephiles can understand.


Directed by: John Waters
Starring: Melanie Griffith, Stephen Dorff, Alicia Witt, Adrian Grenier, Lawrence Gilliard Jr., Maggie Gyllenhaal, Michael Shannon
Country: France/USA

Rating: ***

Tom Gillespie

Review #401: 'Take Shelter' (2011)

Curtis (Michael Shannon) is suffering from apocalyptic nightmares that foresees a huge storm encroaching the area. He also dreams of his wife Samantha (Jessica Chastain) and his dead daughter Hannah (Tova Stewart) trying to harm him, along with his best friend and work colleague Dewart (Shea Whigham). Fearing his visions are true, Curtis starts to build a huge underground shelter in his yard, taking out a massive loan he can't afford and borrowing work equipment from his job. Knowing that his mother suffers from paranoid schizophrenia, Curtis and the dedicated Samantha worry that he is in fact losing his mind, as his behaviour becomes more unpredictable and erratic.

Working on two levels, Take Shelter works both as a character drama that creates a realistic and slightly disturbing portrayal of mental disease, and as an apocalyptic thriller. America is known as one of the most paranoid and high-anxiety countries in the world, with areas of near-fanatical religious and political beliefs, high gun crime, the threat of terrorism, and most recently, financial gloom with the recession. Curtis seems to embody these fears. His nightmares don't reveal too much about what he thinks may happen - there's a storm, murderous attacks by his loved ones, a petrol-like substance falling from the sky - so he is essentially terrified of the unknown. Like Lars von Trier's Melancholia (2011), the film is very much the thinking-man's vision of the apocalypse, and rather than action scenes and cities being destroyed in CGI, it is the psychological meltdown of its protagonist that it is more interested in.

If he were younger and better-looking, Michael Shannon would have been a superstar years ago. Instead, he is seen all too little on the big screen, and is currently stealing HBO's Boardwalk Empire as religious fanatic FBI agent Val Alden. Here, he even betters his Oscar-nominated 5-minute cameo in the criminally underrated Revolutionary Road (2008), giving a towering performance as a man slowly tearing himself apart. Chastain and Whigham (also star of Boardwalk Empire) offer admirable support as the supportive wife and best friend respectively. Although the climax is somewhat predictable, it has power nonetheless, thanks to Jeff Nichols' unfussy direction and the fact that the journey there is so riveting. One of the most overlooked films of 2011.


Directed by: Jeff Nichols
Starring: Michael Shannon, Jessica Chastain, Shea Whigham
Country: USA

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie