Review #1,312: 'The Death of Stalin' (2017)

After spending most of the 1990s helping create the likes of The Day Today and I'm Alan Partridge - two of the greatest comedy works to have ever come out of Britain - satirist Armando Iannucci really made a name for himself with The Thick of It, a political farce centred around a bunch of politicians and spin doctors within a fictional government department going to ridiculous lengths to further their own careers and avoid the sack at the behest of an unseen prime minister. This led to the brilliant spin-off feature film In the Loop, before he would go on to tackle U.S. politics with acclaimed HBO series Veep. These groundbreaking satires now seem like they were a mere warm-up for his most ambitious project yet, The Death of Stalin, which covers the panic-stricken aftermath following the demise of one of the Soviet Union most notorious dictators, Joseph Stalin.

For the film, Iannucci has gathered together some of the finest British actors working today: those who are as comfortable with improvisation as they are with brooding monologues. Michael Palin is Molotov, the nervously chirpy minister who remained loyal to Stalin after the execution of his wife; Andrea Riseborough is Svetlana, Stalin's emotionally crumbled daughter; and Rupert Fried is the drunken son Vasily. Most impressive of all is Simon Russell Beale as the reptilian Lavrenti Beria, a man renowned for his love of rape and torture who is now desperately picking up the scraps and trying to seize power. Working against Beria is Steve Buscemi's Khrushchev, the former cabinet jester who may actually be the country's best bet. Trying to hold it all together is Jeffrey Tambor's timid Malenkov, who despite unwavering loyalty to his leader discovers his name on a death list before the big guy drops dead, and is installed as acting Premier shortly after.

There are many belly laughs to be enjoyed in The Death of Stalin, but Iannucci's approach to the subject matter often approaches horror territory. While the worst the players in The Thick of It faced was public embarrassment or a dressing down from Malcolm Tucker, here one ill-timed comment can land you with a bullet in the head. It's an incredibly scary place, where characters stroll nonchalantly through grey buildings as screams and gunshots hum in the background, and people are taken from their homes by armed officers for some imagined slight. The comedy and tragedy are incredibly well-balanced, and intensifies the absurdity of political life to genuinely concerning levels. Watching the terrible events unfold as these desperate men stutter and scurry around like rats, willing to back-stab and manipulate their colleagues without pausing for breath if it means buying themselves some extra time, is irresistible. As you would expect, Iannucci's script (co-written by David Schneider and Ian Martin) is expletive-laden and sharp as a dagger, and the entire ensemble are at the top of their game. It's unlikely The Death of Stalin will ever see a release in Russia, but someone should definitely suggest Putin adds it to his IMDb watchlist.


Directed by: Armando Iannucci
Starring: Steve Buscemi, Simon Russell Beale, Jeffrey Tambor, Andrea Riseborough, Michael Palin, Paddy Considine, Jason Isaacs, Rupert Friend, Olga Kurylenko
Country: UK/France/Belgium

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,161: 'The Girl with All the Gifts' (2016)

Colm McCarthy's The Girl with All the Gifts, written in novel form and for the screen in tandem by Mike Carey, seems to have aspirations of greatness: To be that great British horror movie many of us are waiting for, and harking back to iconic pieces of horror/science fiction literature such as Richard Matheson's I Am Legend. McCarthy, who has mainly worked for television (directing episodes of Ripper Street, Doctor Who and Peaky Blinders amongst many others), certainly makes a valiant effort to help distinguish the film from a seemingly endless wave of zombie movies, but the plot rarely strays from the tropes of the post-apocalyptic road trip.

The titular girl with all the gifts is the exceptionally intelligent Melanie (Sennia Nanua), a child who appears to live in a dark cell within an underground military bunker. She is routinely ushered into English lessons strapped to a wheelchair with her arms, legs and head restrained. We soon learn that such extreme measures are taken because Melanie is a 'hungry' - someone infected by a mysterious fungal disease responsible for turning most of humanity into flesh-eating zombies. Only she is one of a few born infected with the virus who is also capable of interacting with the uninfected, and she and her classmates are believed by Dr. Caldwell (Glenn Close) to be the key to a cure. When the base is attacked by a hoard of the undead, Caldwell flees with Melanie, taking kindhearted teacher Helen (Gemma Arterton) and grizzled soldier Sgt. Parks (Paddy Considine) to find a safe place to finish the experimentation.

To her credit, Nanua more than holds her own against seasoned veterans such as Close and Considine, and Melanie's sweet, curious nature combined with her instinct to kill is the film's strongest suit. However, this is more of an ensemble piece, and by taking the attention away from Melanie to focus on explaining the epidemic and placing the group into a simple get-from-A-to-B storyline, it loses its edge. The sagging middle aside - which often feels like a better-filmed episode of The Walking Dead and offers only one memorable set-piece involving a swarm of sleeping living dead - events are book-ended by an intriguing beginning and thoughtful ending. The opening is successful in luring you in before deteriorating into a midst of exposition and gun-fire, and the final moments, which ponder a different kind of future, highlight just how great things could have been.


Directed by: Colm McCarthy
Starring: Gemma Arterton, Sennia Nanua, Paddy Considine, Glenn Close
Country: UK/USA

Rating: ***

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,080: 'The Bourne Ultimatum' (2007)

One may have anticipated a drop in quality upon the release of Paul Greengrass' trilogy-capper The Bourne Ultimatum back in 2007. After all, the first two movies made no real effort to cover up the fact that they are ultimately the same movie, and Ultimatum is no different, again sending Matt Damon's haggard, amnesiac super agent on the run from serious-looking CIA agents and emotionless "assets" across a variety of countries at breakneck speed. However, the Bourne trilogy does what trilogies rarely do and gets progressively better which each movie, and this third instalment has learned from the franchise's previous mistakes.

Greengrass goes for all-out action here, barely stopping to catch its breath as the film squeezes tension out of the most ordinary of places and situations, and delivering set-pieces that dwarf anything that came before. There's no doubting that Bourne will make it out of this film alive, and no matter how dire the situations the superhuman find himself in as shady CIA heads Noah Vosen (David Strathairn) and the returning Pam Landy (Joan Allen) track him down using every conceivable piece of spy equipment at their disposal, you know he will somehow find a way to smash his way out. What makes Ultimatum so miraculous is how Greengrass manages to still keep things grounded, whether it's watching Bourne pummel an assassin with a leather-bound book or causing carnage on the streets of New York.

When it does pause for breath, Greengrass thankfully seems eager to wrap up the story of how Bourne came to be the unstoppable badass he is, and uncover the organisation known as Treadstone, the secret agency that have been hunting him down ever since he was picked up by a fishing boat with bullet holes in his back. It's a revelation without any revelations, as anyone with half a brain could fit the puzzle together from the events of the previous films, so the film doesn't spend too much time dwelling on it, cutting straight to the chase when the voice plaguing Bourne's dreams manifests itself in the form of Albert Finney.

Of the plot, there is little to write about. Bourne tracks down journalist Simon Ross (Paddy Considine), who has taken to writing pieces on the former agent's exploits and a program known as Blackbriar. Bourne's presence naturally attracts the attention of Vosen et al, and the rest you can guess. It's the simplest of McGuffin's, one that exists for the sole purpose of transporting Bourne around the globe and assaulting the senses with exhilarating action, and the experience is all the better for it. Damon is so good here that he doesn't need much dialogue to create a credible and sympathetic hero, as he manages to capture the spirit of Jason Bourne with his fists and looks of panic more than words ever could. While you may still need a barf bag on hand during some of the more frantic moments, The Bourne Ultimatum is an example of the action genre at its finest, one that will leave you scratching your head as to why the studio felt the need to add the Jeremy Renner-starring spin-off and the recent fourth instalment, Jason Bourne, to the story.


Directed by: Paul Greengrass
Starring: Matt Damon, Julia Stiles, David Strathairn, Joan Allen, Paddy Considine, Scott Glenn, Edgar Ramírez, Albert Finney
Country: USA/Germany

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,036: 'Tyrannosaur' (2011)

Having done some of his best work with director Shane Meadows, it's no surprise that first-time director Paddy Considine turned to the darkest areas of the human soul to find a story that is both violent and romantic, without ever confusing the two. The Meadows/Considine collaborations A Room for Romeo Brass (1999) and Dead Man's Shoes (2004) were an unsettling mixture of mental anguish and kitchen-sink drama, but Considine's debut, Tyrannosaur, keeps the tone firmly within the boundaries of the Ken Loach School of Gritty Film-Making, which help make this often gentle tale of two broken souls finding common ground often difficult to sit through.

An expansion of Considine's BAFTA award-winning short Dog Altogether, Tyrannosaur follows Joseph (Peter Mullan), a heavy-drinking and unemployed widower with extreme anger issues. We first meet him being thrown out of a pub following an unseen altercation, after which he kicks his dog to death in the street in a blind rage. Further anti-social behaviour sees him end up in a charity shop owned by God-fearing Hannah (Olivia Colman). Joseph is abusive and possibly dangerous, but she decides to help him anyway. Hannah's apparently comfortable middle-class life is at odds with the tougher upbringing experienced by Joseph, and he initially scolds her for it. Yet as the charity shop evolves into something of a safe haven for Joseph, he comes to learn that Hannah's marriage to James (Eddie Marsan) is an abusive one, and that she has her own demons to face.

The film certainly doesn't pull its punches. From the opening scene of witnessing the protagonist of the story brutally kill his own animal to a graphic rape later in the movie, Tyrannosaur is uncomfortable viewing but is never out to simply shock. The character of Joseph was based on Considine's father, but rather than being a carousel of unpleasant experiences torn from the directors memories, the film instead ponders whether a life wasted can be redeemed. Joseph and Hannah may seem to be complete opposites, but their shared disappointment in the life they have led and the suffering they have endured makes for a romantic bond that is both believable and profound. The relationship is given extra weight by the performances of the two leads. Mullan is uniformly excellent in a type of role he has done before, but Colman, who was up to this point of her career mainly known for her comedy work, is a revelation. An impressive debut work from an actor I have admired since I first saw him back in '99.


Directed by: Paddy Considine
Starring: Peter Mullan, Olivia Colman, Eddie Marsan, Ned Dennehy
Country: UK

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #919: 'Child 44' (2015)

The idea of a thriller/murder mystery set in the 1950's Soviet Union, where to be accused is to be found guilty and the majority of the population live in state of constant paranoia, starring such acting powerhouses as Tom Hardy, Noomi Rapace, Gary Oldman, Paddy Considine and Jason Clarke, who have all starred in some damn fine movies over the past few years, would make one assume they were in for a guaranteed masterpiece. Based on Tom Rob Smith's 2008 novel, the first of a trilogy, Child 44 the film is overstuffed with disconnected sub-plots, mud-brown grimness, rushed storytelling. and a smorgasbord of thick Russian accents delivered by a mostly European from a variety of countries apart from Russia.

Beginning in a war-town Ukraine where starvation has wiped out a bulk of the population, young Leo Demidov (Hardy) escapes an orphanage and into the arms of a sympathetic soldier, who adopts him and gives him a home. Years later, and Leo is a war hero, having his picture taken raising the flag of the U.S.S.R. over Berlin, and has a beautiful wife in Raisa (Rapace). While the country lives in fear, Leo and his comrades dine in fine restaurants. He is an obedient soldier, hunting down and capturing suspected traitor Anatoly (Clarke), but also shows restraint and empathy in his work, trying to convince Anatoly to confess to escape his inevitable torture and execution, and dressing down fellow soldier Vasili (Joel Kinnaman), a known coward from the war, when he executes a peasant couple in cold blood.

Vasili, who rises through the ranks to become understudy to Major Kuzmin (Vincent Cassel), becomes Leo's nemesis. When Leo is called in to investigate a gang of citizens suspected of working against the state, Raisa is implicated, possibly by Vasili as a grudge against the man who humiliated him in the field. Leo must face a choice of giving up the woman he genuinely loves, or handing her over and maintaining his social position. Meanwhile, the child of one of Leo's friends is murdered, and may possibly be connected to other murders that have happened in the vicinity. But the higher-ups fails to acknowledge the murders, as serial killers can only be the product of capitalism, and there are no murders in paradise. Leo, refusing to hand his wife over, is sent to take a demeaning position in Volsk, operating under the command of General Nesterov (Oldman), where more bodies are found.

Child 44 has all the ingredients for an intense whodunit and character study from a time and place rarely depicted by mainstream cinema. I haven't read Smith's book, but judging from the critical praise and awards lavished upon it, director Daniel Espinosa, best known for action fare Easy Money (2010) and Safe House (2012), seems to have only skimmed the back cover, forgetting to add anything resembling tension or believable character development. 2006's German masterpiece The Lives of Others created an overwhelming sense of fear and paranoia within its characters, but Espinosa seems to be more invested in rushing his way through the plot to get to an end that is in no way satisfying. The performances, despite being burdened with thick Russian accents (though the cast generally stay on the right side of those Compare the Meerkat adverts), are solid, although Oldman and Considine are wasted. At 137 minutes, the film feels long when it should feel short, and you get the idea that this may have worked better as a mini-series, where better care could have been taken to tell the story with the patience it deserved.


Directed by: Daniel Espinosa
Starring: Tom Hardy, Noomi Rapace, Gary Oldman, Joel Kinnaman, Vincent Cassel, Paddy Considine, Jason Clarke
Country: USA/UK/Czech Republic/Romania/Russia

Rating: **

Tom Gillespie

Review #783: 'Dead Man's Shoes' (2004)

The revenge thriller is a rather tired old goat. Man is wronged, man changes, man gets revenge. That's how it usually plays out. But every now and then a film will come out of the blue, subverting or at least twisting our premature expectations, while still delivering the same thrills we know from the very best of the genre. Positioned somewhere between revenge horror and kitchen-sink drama, Shane Meadows' Dead Man's Shoes is a dark, violent, yet often very funny story of an ex-soldier out to get the group of low-lives who bullied his mentally retarded brother, anchored by two outstanding performances from Paddy Considine and Toby Kebbell.

Richard (Considine) is not a traditional hero. His intentions aren't to use stealth and mystery to confuse and take down his targets; the gang, headed by drug-dealer Sonny (Gary Stretch), figure out who he is straight away, and don't take long to cross his path. Richard tells them to watch out and that he's coming for them, and tells them where to find him. His aggression, combined with Considine's imposing performance, makes for a terrifying character. Richard has shacked up in a nearby farm with his brother Anthony (Kebbell), the victim of Sonny and the gang's cruel sadism. Most of the action stays away from Richard, and we spend most of the time with Herbie (Stuart Wolfenden), Soz (Neil Bell) and Tuff (Paul Sadot), Sonny's low-level drug dealers.

It's in these scenes where Meadows' skill for dialogue and working realism into his actors performances really shines. The gang, with the exception of Sonny, become rather likeable, their idiocy and incompetence making for several laugh-out-loud moments, causing Richard's evolution into the beast of the story more convincing and effective. The rural town in the Peak District in which the film is set plays like a character in itself. At first glance it's an idyllic retreat, a perfect setting for a show like Midsomer Murders, but the film opens it up and reveals it's underlying ugliness, much like the monster surfacing from it's protagonist. It has it's flaws - often the film's budgetary constraints lead to unconvincing moments - but Dead Man's Shoes is raw, unflinching. sad, and, in the end, shocking.


Directed by: Shane Meadows
Starring: Paddy Considine , Gary Stretch, Toby Kebbell, Stuart Wolfenden, Neil Bell, Paul Sadot
Country: UK

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #681: 'The World's End' (2013)

Finally wrapping up the collection of films now known as the 'Three Flavours Conetto' trilogy, Simon Pegg, Nick Frost and Edgar Wright have delved into sci-fi geekdom for inspiration for their final entry, The World's End. Where Shaun of the Dead (2004) was a swan-song to George A. Romero and his gift of zombies to the horror genre and Hot Fuzz (2007) was a homage to 1980's and 1990's action movies when the law were still cool, The World's End gives us a blue-blooded alien/robot invasion, reminiscent of John Carpenter, set amidst a legendary pub crawl.

Gary King (Pegg), a middle-aged alcoholic, decides that he and his childhood friends should meet up one more time to complete the pub crawl they failed to conquer twenty something years ago. The crawl consists of 12 pubs in their hometown of Newton Haven, ending at The World's End pub. Gary quickly gathers up the gang - Oliver "O-Man"Chamberlain (Martin Freeman), Steven Prince (Paddy Considine), Peter Page (Eddie Marsan), and, somewhat reluctantly, Andy Knightley (Frost) - and they set off on their quest only to discover that the town they grew up in has become overrun by pod people-type robots.

The thing that made the previous two films in the trilogy so enjoyable was the chemistry between its two leads, Simon Pegg and Nick Frost. In Shaun, they were both bumbling idiots, and in Fuzz, the dynamic was changed to keep things interesting, with Pegg playing the straight man, and Frost his starry-eyed but worryingly dim sidekick. Here, things are changed again with Frost becoming the straight man and Pegg the loutish idiot. Frost's Andy drinks water for the majority of the film and holds resentment for an unspoken event, therefore heightening the drama and adding dimensions to their relationship, but nevertheless steps on the comedy. With the chemistry missing, Pegg's Gary becomes slightly annoying and Andy is just a drag.

And here lies The World's End biggest problem - it just isn't that funny. Until the robots show up, there are only a handful of scenes capable of raising a smile, and the movie is actually quite slow. Shaun and Fuzz (this will be the last time I mention these, I promise) were packed full of visual and wordplay gags that benefited from repeat viewings, but The World's End was such a drag the first time around that I doubt will ever feel the need to watch it again. The supporting cast barely register, with only Considine's Steven getting a sub-plot, involving Oliver's sister Sam (Rosamund Pike) and some unspoken love.

But when the robots show up, the movie does pick up the pace. Although it's hardly a ground-breaking idea (it's pretty much The Body Snatchers with lager), watching Nick Frost twat a horde of robots with two bar stools could never be anything but thrilling. Most of the charm of the film comes from it's distinctive Britishness, and the out-there climax offers a surprisingly insightful commentary on what it means to be British - flaws, belligerence and all. These are some relatively minor achievements that manage to save the film from disaster, in what is ultimately a disappointing, unconvincing closing bookmark to what could have been a modern landmark in British comedy.


Directed by: Edgar Wright
Starring: Simon Pegg, Nick Frost, Martin Freeman, Paddy Considine, Eddie Marsan, Rosamund Pike, Pierce Brosnan, David Bradley, Michael Smiley
Country: UK

Rating: ***

Tom Gillespie

Review #42: 'Submarine' (2010)

Whilst watching Richard Ayoade playing uber-nerd Moss in the hit-and-miss sitcom The IT Crowd, or playing TV producer and actor Dean Lerner in the criminally underrated Garth Merenghi's Darkplace, the last thing I pictured him doing was confidently directing a feature-length film. I don't mean to knock him, as I've always felt he was an extremely talented comedy performer and writer, and he brightens up whatever he appears in, no matter how crap the material. But here he has focused all his ambition, influences and talent into creating a truly memorable debut.

Submarine tells the story of 15 year-old Oliver Tate (Craig Roberts), a strange, intelligent and unnervingly confident schoolboy who falls for an equally strange girl Jordana (Yasmin Paige). After an incident which sees Oliver reluctantly participate in a spot of casual bullying that causes a girl to fall into a muddy pond, Oliver and Jordana begin their unusual romance. All seems to be going well until Oliver suspects his mother Jill (Sally Hawkins) of having an affair with cheesy self-help guru Graham (Paddy Considine), who lives next door. His father Lloyd (Noah Taylor) is so passive and uncaring that he is practically a zombie, and so Oliver takes it upon himself to rescue his parent's broken marriage whilst holding his own fragile relationship together.

The film arrives amidst critical praise and festival word-of-mouth, and the promise of a real future talent in director Richard Ayoade. I'm pleased to announce that the film is every bit as good as I've heard. I had my doubts, concerned with the film's 'quirky indie comedy' tag that films are so lazily lumbered with these days. But while the film is quirky, indie and a comedy, it finds its influences lying elsewhere - from the greatest of all film movements, the French New Wave. From the start this is clear with the Godard-esque large lettering with strong colours for the opening credits and title cards. Everything about the film screams New Wave, from its stylistic boldness, self-awareness, and even the unconventionally handsome and turtle-neck-wearing leading man.

One of the main strengths of the film is it's awareness of slipping into cliche. The quirkiness and magic of the French New Wave have been copied and ripped-off so often that nowadays when it is used it can come across as pretentious. But Oliver's intelligence and amusing voice-over frequently touches on this. At the start of his relationship with Jordana, they spend their days on the beach and frequenting industrial wastelands, and Oliver comments that he will put these moments in his 'Super 8 memories', cue shots of the couple running and laughing on the beach, shot in that grainy, home-video look. He also fantasises that he is in a film, and that the film will end up with him searching for Jordana on a beach and how it will end in an arty-farty, pretentious manner aimed to enourage discussion among chin-strokers. It's a great little trick and you have to admire the film's refreshing self-assurance.

The film is also very, very funny, with Craig Roberts proving an extremely talented comedy performer, all pale-skinned, wide-eyed awkwardness, and a pronounced, high pitched voice that almost resembles many of Ayoade's TV characters. The humour is often similar in style to Wes Anderson's (dare I say it?) indie comedies, which are some of the best comedies, if not films, to come out in the last fifteen years. Most of the humour stems from Oliver's increasing desperation to lose his virginity to Jordana, especially in one scene where they find themselves home alone, only for Oliver to light candles around his bed, and lie open-legged on his side in a cheesy pose. Jordana, with her eyes closed waiting for the surprise, opens them and deadpans 'fuckin' hell, you're a serial killer.'

A real gem, and a film that definitely introduces the potentially massive talent of director Richard Ayoade, star Craig Roberts, and Arctic Monkeys frontman Alex Turner, who performs the wonderful music. And also a rare opportunity to see some of the beautiful sights of Swansea, where I currently reside.


Directed by: Richard Ayoade
Starring: Craig Roberts, Yasmin Paige, Sally Hawkins, Noah Taylor, Paddy Considine
Country: UK/USA

Rating: *****

Tom Gillespie