'Moonrise Kingdom' review:

The story of two young and "mentally disturbed" lovers who run away from home during the summer of 1965, 'Moonrise Kingdom' packs all the wit and whimsy of director Wes Anderson's other work whilst also feeling entirely fresh. Everything is in keeping with his very deliberate and composed signature style, but some of it's been tilted slightly, adjusted just enough to let some air into the room. It's the same elaborate, four-poster bed you've enjoyed sleeping in several times up to now, but he's changed the sheets (or something metaphorical like that). The cinematography here, though still by long-serving Robert Yeoman, has a washed-out, almost instagram look, though each frame still bursts with bright colours and retains that children's book illustration look.

Music also plays a slightly different role here, moving away from chic 60s/70s alt-rock tunes and towards a unifying theme which subtly likens the ensemble cast to sections of an orchestra. Though regular composer Mark Mothersbaugh and music supervisor Randall Poster are still involved, Alexandre Desplat takes on main scoring duties following his work on the animated 'Fantastic Mr. Fox'. It's also perhaps his least dialogue driven of his films to date - the screenplay once again co-written with Roman Coppola still full of memorable lines, but with the storytelling often completely visual. At no point more so than at the film's emotionally charged climax, where the shot choices and movement of the camera are sublime.

The cast too has been shaken up very slightly. Though Bill Murray (in every film since 'Rushmore') and Jason Schwartzman are still on hand in small supporting parts, this is the first Wes Anderson movie not to involve at least one Wilson brother. As a sweet-natured scout master with a note of sadness behind the eyes, Ed Norton ably takes on the role which might otherwise have gone to Anderson's former writing partner Owen Wilson. The best of the new additions to Team Anderson is undoubtedly Bruce Willis, who underplays his role wonderfully, though Bob Balaban is also very funny as a sort of meteorologist-cartographer-narrator. These changes are signposted even before you get passed the credits by the very deliberate change in font from his beloved futura to something yellow, squiggly and italicised.

All the same preoccupations and stylistic flourishes are present though, from that one moment of expertly timed slow-mo to the tale of a dysfunctional family, populated by wounded and disappointed people struggling to connect. At times the young runaways - Sam (Jared Gilman) and Suzy (Kara Hayward) - and their armed boy scout pursuers could be mistaken for members of the Max Fischer Players, mounting an ambitious production of 'The African Queen' by way of Lord of the Flies, as the film riffs on a 12 year-old version of pampered rich girl meets man of the earth on romantic wilderness adventure. Like all of Anderson's films to date it's earnestly kind without ever coming close to twee, and nostalgic without seeming kitsch or staid. There are moments of heart-breaking melancholy and times where the humour verges on black, but it's primarily an innocent and joyful experience.

Though I personally loved 'The Life Aquatic' and 'Darjeeling Limited', those films seemed to represent Anderson's movies becoming bigger and, to some extent, less tightly focused. The star-studded ensemble is no less eclectic here but 'Moonrise Kindom' instead feels stripped back somewhere closer to the simplicity and economy of 'Rushmore'. It's a change that's kept the director's formula from wearing thin, coming at the right moment. It's a film that makes Wes Anderson exciting again, as opposed to the master of an increasingly predictable framework (however lovely). I used to say that 'Bottle Rocket' was my favourite but conceded that 'The Royal Tenenbaums' was Anderson's most mature and accomplished film. 'Moonrise Kingdom' calls into question both ends of that statement.

'Moonrise Kingdom' is out now in the UK, rated '12A' by the BBFC.

'Moonrise Kingdom' trailer:

For me a new Wes Anderson movie is cause for celebration, so the release of a first trailer (below) for the upcoming 'Moonrise Kingdom' is really exciting. It's his first movie since 2009's 'Fantastic Mr. Fox' and first live action film since 2007's 'The Darjeeling Limited' - also co-written with Roman Coppola. Cast regulars Jason Schwartzman and Bill Murray are joined by Bruce Willis, Ed Norton and Tilda Swinton, in this 60s-set tale about a couple of kids who run away together, prompting a massive search.

Anderson fans will immediately notice that the titles are written in a different font from that used extensively in his first six features. It's also interesting that the film looks so different visually, with washed out colours giving it an almost instagram look, as regular cinematographer Robert Yeoman is still behind the camera. Otherwise it looks and feels like a Wes Anderson film to the smallest detail.

I love that the scouts in the film seem to continue Anderson's childish love of clubs and gangs, notably explored in 'Bottle Rocket', 'Rushmore' and 'The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou'. I can't wait for this.

'We Need to Talk About Kevin' review:

If we accept that it exists at all, is evil born or is it made? If a teenager commits mass murder, should we blame the parents or society or the media or some innate badness that lurks inside of the individual? Whilst not addressed explicitly, these questions are at the forefront of Scottish director Lynne Ramsay's long awaited third feature, 'We Need to Talk About Kevin': an adaptation of Lionel Shriver's novel, starring the inimitable Tilda Swinton as Eva, whose sociopathic son Kevin (Ezra Miller) massacres students and teachers at his high school.

Told from the perspective of Eva, Ramsay's film is less concerned with the troubled Kevin and his motivations than it is with the effect the ordeal - and the boy's almost equally traumatic upbringing - has had on his mother. Routinely attacked and insulted on the street - with her house and car vandalised at the film's start - it's only a slight exaggeration to say that Eva's life is a living hell, not least because she lives with the knowledge of what her son has done and seems willing to accept society's judgement of her. Even as a toddler, Kevin prefers his more natural and easygoing father (John C. Reilly) to his reluctant mother, a best selling travel author who is suddenly housebound by an unwanted baby.



Ramsay tastefully avoids depicting the horrific event itself (or indeed many of the preceding horrific events), but even so she manages to make even the most banal instances (a drive through suburbia, a trip to the supermarket) intense and frightening throughout. This has a lot to do with punchy editing, jarring musical choices and a stand out performance from relative unknown Miller.

If Christopher Nolan ever wanted to bring back the Joker in his Batman films, Miller with his contemptuous eyes and debauched grin would be the perfect candidate to replace the late Heath Ledger. He still looks intelligent and sinister even when he is called upon to look void of emotion. For much of the film Kevin is something of an emotional black hole, showing neither joy nor sorrow and incapable of empathy or compassion. Near the end, whilst he awaits transfer to an adult prison, we witness his only show of emotion by virtue of the fear in his eyes. Until that point it's tempting to conclude he isn't human but some sort of demonic force - a divine punishment for Eva's seeming lack of a maternal instinct.



'We Need to Talk About Kevin' is a masterclass in terms of the creation of anxiety, but for me at least the question of what the film is really about remains. The product of a collaboration between three distinctive and highly celebrated female artists (Swinton, Ramsay and Shriver), I'd hesitate to say the film is about what can happen if a career woman forsakes a traditional motherly role - surely that's not the intention here? I'd certainly hope not. But if Eva is not being held responsible by the film, which draws frequent parallels between her behaviour and Kevin's, then are we left with this uncomfortable - and I think dishonest - idea of innate "evil"?

If looked at as an exploration of Kevin's motivations the film is weak and the conclusions trite: he plays violent video games and is inspired to violence by the lure of being on television. Instead it works best as a look at how society reacts to a mother in this situation - you need only look at how the media is especially vitriolic against female murderers as opposed to their male counterparts - and how she comes to see herself. The backflashes which scour Eva's past, from the opening (pre-Kevin) scene of blissful content at the Tomatina festival in Spain to the height of her disconnect with Kevin as a teenager, are perhaps examples of this mother's own futile search for answers.

'We Need to Talk About Kevin' is out now in the UK and it is rated '15' by the BBFC.

'I Am Love' review, plus the new (and last?) Splendor podcast...

Regular readers (hello mum and dad) may have noticed that this blog has not really been updated with its usual frequency in the last week or so. This has been due to my work for Obsessed With Film, for whom I interviewed Ricky Gervais and Stephen Merchant and reviewed their latest film 'Cemetery Junction'. During that time I saw 'I Am Love', but have only just been able to take the time to review it here. It is a bit shorter than my usual reviews on here, but I wanted to get something down before I forgot everything about the film! On a seperate note: there is a new Splendor Cinema podcast up in the player at the side of this blog. It is labelled episode seven because whilst the 'Kick-Ass' episode got put up on iTunes, it was the victim of a staff holiday at the Picturehouse site and so seems to have been passed by. When the latest episode appears on iTunes it will (correctly) be number eight.

And number eight, in which Jon and I tackle the subject of the future of cinema and of piracy, may well be the last Splendor Cinema podcast... ever. But have no fear gentle listener! We are re-branding it the "Obsessed With Film" podcast and it will continue in the same vein, but hopefully reaching a larger audience. So keep on listening.

Anyway, here is the 'I Am Love' review:



‘I Am Love’ is an Italian film produced by (and starring) Tilda Swinton and directed by Luca Guadagnino. According to Swinton the film was conceived in part as a tribute to filmmakers “whose claim on the development of the cinematic language is unassailable”. ‘I Am Love’ is apparently “an attempt to honour this kind of bravado” from these great artists who so advanced film as an art form. But whereas the works of Hitchock, Huston and Kubrick (three of the filmmakers cited as influences) were always constructed to appeal to an audience and to provide entertainment, ‘I Am Love’ is content to pander to an art house crowd who will no doubt call it “a sumptuous and sublime work” and will remind us that “Swinton is superb!”. Guadagnino and Swinton may feel that they have paid a tribute to the greats in terms of their execution of the cinematic form as a “toolkit” (again Swinton’s words), but none of the excitement of ‘North by Northwest’ or ‘The Maltese Falcon’ or ‘A Clockwork Orange’ can be felt in this formal exercise in pretension.

Some individual scenes are truly excellent. The film expertly evokes the feeling of a late summer afternoon, with especially beautiful sunlit scenes depicted on Yorick Le Saux’s camera. Le Saux also worked with Swinton on ‘Julia’ and it is easy to see why she would have asked him back for this project: the cinematography is faultless. Similarly evocative is John Adams operatic score, which lends a level of grandeur to the occasion and renders the films visual elegance audible. I would also say that some key scenes and moments did affect me, with one of the film’s key revelations occurring in a purely visual way – surely the mark of the purest kind of cinema. Furthermore, I enjoyed the way in which Edo (Swinton’s favourite son) subtly mirrors his father (and the whole family) in his treatment of women throughout the film and also how the daughter’s homosexuality (an early plot development) is treated with tenderness and real love.

However, despite these admirable qualities the film generally kept me at arms length throughout. It feels like more of a showcase for Tilda Swinton’s undoubted talent, rather than a story that needed to be told. There was one brief chase sequence that alluded to the Hitchcockian influence with it’s pacing and sense of urgency. But the rest of film moves at a wearying pace, as the filmmakers hope that the undoubted visual splendor will keep you hooked. Long, well-composed shots of people sitting around nicely-lit tables can only hold my attention for so long and as early as twenty minutes into the films two hours I found myself bored, however much I really want to admire and applaud anyone who so earnestly celebrates the cinematic.

I can see how, in the age of ‘Transformers 2’ and ‘The Bounty Hunter’, this sort of ambitious and self-indulgent cinema might appeal to those who hunger for something with a bit of substance. But for me, ‘I Am Love’ is an example of the opposite extreme, for as much as ‘Transformers’ is so brazenly artless, ‘I Am Love’ is an example of art for arts sake - which to my mind is ultimately just as artless in the final analysis. Great art doesn’t (or shouldn’t) primarily aspire to be art. ‘I Am Love’ certainly sings of its artiness from the well-lit rooftops of its many splendid Milanese villas. But then maybe it is only fitting that a film entitled ‘I Am Love’ should be so enamored with itself.

'I Am Love' is still playing across the UK in selected screens, including Brighton's own Duke of York's Picturehouse. It is rated '15' by the BBFC.