'The Paperboy', 'Side Effects' and 'Outrage Beyond': review round-up

'The Paperboy' - Dir. Lee Daniels (15)

Trashy, pulpy and a little kitsch, Lee Daniels' follow-up to 'Precious' would be much more fun if it weren't also a little po-faced. For a film that has clear arthouse pretensions, this is the movie in which Nicole Kidman's brash, convict-obsessed Charlotte wees on Zac Efron's besotted face. It's the movie which (in one of the most bizarre, awkward and misjudged scenes I've ever seen) sees Charlotte masturbating in front of the assembled cast during a visit to her incarcerated fiance, played by John Cusack - also feverishly masturbating, as hot-shot newspapermen Matthew McConaughey, David Oyelowo and their young driver (Efron) look on speechless: confused and a little aroused. It isn't like anything else you've seen and the there are some enjoyably extreme moments, like those highlighted, but this is funny-bad where the "bad" outweighs the "funny" by some margin.

It's replete with heavy-handed montage sequences and imagery that implies some sort of deep meaning but which under close analysis seems to yield very little. There's a Macy Grey narration that could be excised without harming the film in any way and which seems confused about who it's addressing. Why Grey's housemaid is even telling the story in the first place is never made clear by Pete Dexter's screenplay, based on his own novel. There's also the sort of over the top poverty porn that made parts of 'Precious' so baffling and slightly offensive, with every lower-class character a filthy degenerate with a funny accent. It's fun to see Cusack play against type, but it's an excessive performance - though Kidman is stand-out and the rest of the cast solid - but that's hardly enough to make up for the film's many shortcomings: an investigation storyline that goes nowhere; vague commentary on late-60s racial politics that goes nowhere; and a chase sequence in the third act that is quite possibly the least tense and exciting ever committed to film. It's a mess. Shambolic filmmaking.

'Side Effects' - Dir. Steven Soderbergh (15)

Not the film you expect it to be following a twist at the halfway point, 'Side Effects' - the supposed final film of director Steven Soderbergh - is a gripping thriller that takes many an unusual turn, stretching credibility all in the name of entertainment value. Partly a commentary on the power wielded by big US pharmaceutical companies over the medical profession - and on the power of doctors over patients - and the over-prescription of anti-depressants, the cold and methodical nature of the first half is reminiscent of the dry and earnest 'Contagion'. That section of the movie sees Jude Law's charismatic and plausible psychiatrist coming to the aid of a suicidal depressive played by Rooney Mara - a patient, seduced by advertising, into demanding a particular drug which also happens to be sponsoring several of her doctors.

The second half - which I can't really write about here - is tense, gripping and hugely entertaining, though it's undeniably quite contrived and a little silly. Never more so than whenever Catherine Zeta-Jones appears as a rival psychiatrist who looks more like someone's idea of a "sexy librarian" roleplay fantasy than a medical professional. There's something exploitative about some her scenes with Mara in particular, but it didn't hamper my enjoyment of Soderbergh's latest in a run of recent (and varied) successes - that include 'Magic Mike', 'Haywire', 'The Informant!' and the aforementioned 'Contagion'. Needless to say, I hope this isn't the final feature of a progressive 50 year-old director who appears to be going from strength to strength. Like most vintage Soderbergh, this isn't a film without flaws: but it's interesting, bold and dynamic cinema full of surprises.

'Outrage Beyond' - Dir. Takeshi Kitano (TBC)

Not his most cinematic, stylish or daring work to date - being a thoroughly enjoyable and polished, but otherwise fairly standard Yakuza gangster thriller - 'Outrage Beyond' (a sequel to his earlier 'Outrage') keeps Takeshi Kitano on solid and more commercially viable ground following a period of self-reflection and experimentation. In it he plays a former mob enforcer who just doesn't give a fuck - not about the police or his criminal overlords - making him the rogue element in a society built around deference and respect for authority. He's as enjoyable a screen presence as ever, though the film seems to lose momentum whenever he's not on-screen. Most interesting is the way the film portrays the complicity of the police in mob activity, through the schemes of Fumiyo Kohinata's cynical and manipulative Detective Kataoka - perhaps the real villain of the piece.

'Lore', 'Stoker', 'No' and 'Robot & Frank': review round-up, plus I'm back hosting Flick's Flicks

Time for another brief review round-up, but first I wanted to mention last night's Hold Onto Your Butts Film Quiz and Duke's at Komedia - the second so far. It went very well (from what I could tell) and I had a lot of fun hosting it. If you live in, or around, Brighton you might be interested to know it's taking place on the first Thursday of every month in the upstairs bar of the cinema at Komedia (Gardner Street, North Lain area). Though I really only bring it up here as an excuse to again publish Joe Blann's fantastic picture round (above).

Also, I'm again presenting Flick's Flicks to cover the regular writer-host's maternity leave, so here is the March edition of Picturehouse cinema's online film preview show:



On with the reviews!

'Lore' - Dir. Cate Shortland (15)

People I respect have raved about Australian director Cate Shortland's German-set 'Lore' - a coming of age story that follows the displaced children of high-ranking Nazis as they come to terms with defeat at the end of the Second World - though I found it to be a turgid bore. The premise is interesting enough, with the film taking the perspective of the eldest - the titular Lore (Saskia Rosendahl) - as she tries to shepherd her feckless siblings 900km across the country to their grandmother's house, following the arrest of their parents. However, it doesn't really seem to have anything to say about the situation the characters are in, beyond the obvious - that a generation of Germans grew up with guilt for crimes they didn't commit and that children born of Nazism stepped from the war into a world they didn't understand.

These points are hammered home with a few clunking metaphors, with a porcelain deer standing for innocence/the old ways and its climatic destruction a heavy-handed signifier that young Lore has left both behind. This is also a textbook example of "too-many-endings" syndrome, with yet another little scene every time you think the credits might finally be about to roll. Probably not an issue you'd have if, like many I've spoken to, you found the whole thing engaging and in some way illuminating about the human condition. But I didn't and so the whole thing was a tortuous drag - one of those Euro arthouse movies you see in the first week of a festival and forget by the start of the second.

'Stoker' - Dir. Park Chan-wook (18)

Strangely Park Chan-wook's uber-stylish English-language debut has a few things in common with 'Lore'. Firstly, it's a coming of age story about a young women moving into adulthood and losing their childlike innocence about the world. Secondly, and more specifically, both films feature a sequence in which the protagonist spies on her mother amid a sexual act and almost immediately sets out to replicate it with a relative stranger. But there the similarities end, because 'Stoker' is a stone-cold masterpiece in terms of direction, cinematography, editing and sound design. The plot itself is perhaps predictable and lacking in the sorts of twists and turns many have come to associate with the director of the Vengeance trilogy and 'Thirst', but the way the story is told is of the highest order. Some of the transitions between scenes are simply incredible, notably a shot that seamlessly goes from an actresses hair to a field of grass.

The plot basically amounts to: hyper-sensitive and isolated teen, India Stoker (Mia Wasikowska, who here looks something like 'Beetlejuice'-era Winona Ryder), is troubled after the death of her father and resents her cold, dissatisfied mother (Nicole Kidman). After the funeral her estranged uncle Charlie (Matthew Goode) turns up and decides to stay in their house - only he has a secret and is more than willing to murder to protect it. But what it's really about - in keeping with the title's allusion to Bram Stoker of Dracula fame - is sex and death, both by way of touching lady-necks. Chan-wook is looking at the ability of blood, violence and mortal danger to both repulse and attract us - examining the erotic power of horror. In this context it's only natural that, after a spate of murdering, India comes to associate carnal desire with bone-snapping acts of violence, whilst seeming to fall for her mysterious and deadly new surrogate daddy. In other words, there's a lot going on here.

Double Academy Award nominee Jacki Weaver is also on hand to add to an Australian-rich cast, making her biggest impression since 'Animal Kingdom' in a brief but memorable role as India's aunt, in a film where every actor is perfectly cast. Matthew Goode in particular is a great physical presence, both charismatic and attractive whilst also always seeming like a genuine threat: he seems to loom several feet over the rest of the cast (pretty much all-female) and his hands - so often seen wrapped around the throats of victims - seem enormous. Wasikowska and Kidman are also excellent, particularly when playing off against each other.

'No' - Dir. Pablo Larrain (15)

Chilean writer-director Pablo Larrain's highest profile film in the UK to date, partly thanks to the casting of an internationally recognisable star in Gael Garcia Bernal, 'No' continues his run of films on the Pinochet era - following the disturbing and darkly funny 'Tony Manero' and 'Post Mortem'. This time his focus is on the end of that political epoch, as Bernal plays an advertising executive tasked with sexing up the "No" campaign during the 1988 plebiscite that would signal the end of the bloody dictatorship. Larrain's regular star Alfredo Castro also returns, here (naturally enough) as the suitably shady and morally ambiguous snake devising the pro-Pinochet camp's own adverts, though not even he can steal the show from the charismatic Bernal's withdrawn and equally ambiguous lead. Is he truly invested in the political campaign for which he is working? Or is he just out to win - furthering his fame within the advertising world?

In attempting to do the unthinkable and aid the "No" cause to victory - in an election assumed by most to be a formality, only staged to legitimise the regime's power - Bernal's Rene successfully uses the language of vapid, feel-good empty consumerism rather than engaging in traditional political discourse. This alienates a lot of campaigners on his side of the political fence, who feel he is ignoring the thousands of people "disappeared" by the regime, but Rene's lack of faith in the Chilean electorate is eventually rewarded. The film's final shots ingeniously play on our concerns about his victory, seemingly pondering whether a victory gained with empty, cynical consumerism can only lead to an empty, cynical and blandly consumerist society. It's a compelling point that renders the campaign's victory - almost a happy endpoint for the director's loose "Pinochet trilogy" - bittersweet.

The decision to shoot the film on 80s cameras is likewise ingenious, allowing the fictionalised drama to blend seamlessly with contemporary news footage and the original campaign clips themselves. In featuring the original adverts - with their crude comedy sketches, cheesy imagery and despicably catchy jingles - the film also becomes a historical document and a sort of documentary about that period in the nation's history, further enhancing how engrossing and fascinating the whole thing is. Along with the aforementioned 'Stoker', this is one of the best films I've seen so far this year. I can't wait to see what Larrain does next, especially now that he seems to have closed the book on that grim part of Chile's national history.

'Robot & Frank' - Dir. Jake Schreier (12A)

Without wishing to seem condescending or damning with faint praise, 'Robot & Frank' - a first feature for its writer Christopher D. Ford and director Jake Schreier - is a gentle and nice little movie. It's supremely pleasant but without being in the least twee, and it's wistful and nostalgic without being maudlin. Frank Langella, the Frank of the title, gives a subtle, un-showy central performance as a retired cat burglar and former jailbird suffering from dementia given a healthcare robot (voiced by Peter Sarsgaard) by his concerned son (James Marsden). Both his hotshot lawyer son and flaky, bo-ho daughter (Liv Tyler) are mostly absent from his life and Frank slips in and out of remembering who they are during their brief visits and phone calls - but, despite early  reservations, Frank soon finds a renewed lease of life through his interactions with the robot. Especially after discovering his suitability for a life of crime.

It's wryly amusing and occasionally moving, especially in the closing stages of the arc involving Susan Sarandon, but beneath the deceptively light and easy feel there are actually a lot of interesting ideas and themes at play concerning our relationship with technology, the fragility of memory and how our society treats the elderly. It's actually a movie with quite a lot to say about these things, yet it never beats you over the head with any of them. It's certainly an easy recommendation and rounds out a really good week of cinema-going!

'Rabbit Hole' review:

'Rabbit Hole', starring Nicole Kidman and Aaron Eckhart as a married couple going through the motions eight months after the tragic death of their four year old son, is a surprising and deeply effecting experience. Kidman has earned a Best Actress Oscar nomination for her performance - and deservedly so - but Eckhart should not be overlooked as he is equally superb in a rare relationship drama which mostly manages to avoid being cloying and calculated despite revolving around such an emotive event. The film pulls this off by virtue of the subtlety of the two lead performances, made all the more remarkable by the fact that the dialogue is often not of the same abundant class.

David Lindsay-Abaire's screenplay, adapted from his own award-winning 2006 stage play of the same name, is mostly decent but weighed down by some cliché lines, such as "what do you want from me?" and "I can't do this any more!" Yet Kidman and Eckhart invest each moment with such raw intensity and emotional honesty that the film is never less than captivating, never more so than when the two share screen time. Likewise John Cameron Mitchell's direction is unpretentious and respects the ability of the actors to hold our attention without distracting camera tricks and rapid cutting (take note Danny Boyle). The director and his stars are helped by the fact that 'Rabbit Hole' as a dramatic piece refuses to take the same well-beaten path of other relationship dramas. They are also beneficiaries of a writer who has crafted well-rounded characters, both of whom we are able to empathise with even though they try to overcome grief and maintain their marriage in completely different ways - something which reminded me of 'Blue Valentine' even though that film is about a very different and more commonplace emotional turmoil.



'Rabbit Hole' differs from 'Blue Valentine' however when it comes to the film's resolution, which is as melancholic as one would expect, but far less despairing. There is a light at the end of the tunnel in shared grief, but the suggestion is not that there is any quick fix to the emotional damage we have witnessed. The characters don't do anything silly either; they don't get involved in any irritating misunderstandings - any "baby, it's not what it looks like" moments. The film also differs from a lot of American tales about grief in that it doesn't bend over backwards to placate the religious in the audience. Kidman's character is critical of those in a child death support group who insist that the death of their child is "part of God's plan". She laughs at the suggestion openly and it turns her against taking part. When she has an argument with her mother (Dianne Wiest) about disliking the use of religion as a coping mechanism, her mother comes back with all the familiar platitudes yet she isn't forced to back down and change her mind as the film takes an intriguing turn.

The thing I liked best about 'Rabbit Hole' was the fact that Kidman's character doesn't have to go on a journey to "make peace with God" and find that "faith" is the answer to all life's trials and tribulations. The opposite is instead true: possibly for the first time in any film I've seen, science is mooted as a cause for optimism and as a means of comfort, specifically the quantum physics idea of parallel universes. You could argue that this is just another belief system and one requiring the same leap of faith as religious belief. Yet parallel universes are a widely accepted scientific possibility (based on measurable, testable data) and the fact is that this character pointedly finds hope in science rather than superstition. Eckhart's arc is similarly refreshing and pleasing if for entirely different, trend-bucking reasons. He is a rare mature, emotionally sensitive male character in American cinema who is not governed by his libido - even if his desire for sex is a contributing factor in the worsening of relations with his wife.



The film's one grating, uncomfortable moment falls to Dianne Wiest who has to deliver a monologue to her daughter about her own journey in dealing with the loss of a son. When asked if the hurt ever goes away, Wiest says that it becomes bearable but that it turns into something you "carry around like a brick in your pocket. And you... you even forget it, for a while. But then you reach in for whatever reason and - there it is." This moment is just a little florid and stagy when compared with the rest of the film and it doesn't strike me as being very true to the way people actually talk: does anyone really ever come up with overwrought, bafflingly counterintuitive metaphors like that in real life? Who puts a brick in their pocket anyway? Can you even fit a brick in a pocket? Why can't you just take the brick out of the pocket? It's just a rubbish way of explaining and simplifying grief.

But the script only finds itself lacking in a few isolated moments. Most of the film is solidly crafted and the performances are gripping. I shed more than one tear - and at little moments too, such as when Kidman throws her son's clothes in a charity bin, pausing for a moment afterwards as if to contemplate the fact that she can't get them back out again. The film is at it's most emotional when it isn't trying to hard. In the latter case it can feel manipulative. It is true that the supporting characters are thinly drawn props only there to provide added emotional complication to our leads, such as Kidman's irresponsible younger sister (Tammy Blanchard) who falls pregnant and the couples's best friends who have failed to keep in contact out of awkwardness, but these characters do the job and provide a necessary foil for our protagonists. It's all about Kidman and Eckhart and they elevate an interesting, diverting drama into an outside Oscar hopeful.

'Rabbit Hole' is rated '12A' by the BBFC and is out on Friday the 4th of February.