Chris Rock and Julie Delpy form an appealing on-screen couple in '2 Days in New York', as local radio personality Mingus and struggling artist Marion - two perennial malcontents whose fragile equilibrium is disrupted by a visit from the latter's French family, to amusing effect. Rock, a big talent who's never really found Hollywood a perfect fit, really shines here, playing laid-back and charming where he would usually be typecast as loud and manic. Delpy, who wrote and directed this sequel to her earlier '2 Days in Paris', is radiant as ever and with that same attractive quality of not taking herself - or her status as a glamorous movie star - too seriously, whilst paradoxically giving the impression of having a tremendous intellect.
A lot of the film's humour is self-depreciating, but not in a way that feels condescending to the audience: Marion's worries and concerns, about her fading beauty and embarrassing relatives, seem genuine, even autobiographical in spite of her undeniable elegance. There is a deeply personal feel to '2 Days in New York' that is best exemplified by the continued casting of Delpy's real-life father (Albert Delpy) as Marion's father Jeannot - a scruffy but adorable old gentleman who falls somewhere between an unkempt vagrant and a beloved grandpa. A Los Angeles resident and naturalised US citizen, Delpy writes the cross-cultural comedy in a way that feels authentic, if exaggerated for comic effect.
In fact the whole things fritters unevenly between a small-scale, dialogue-driven romantic comedy, in the tradition of Woody Allen, and a much broader farce - perhaps in the tradition of older, zanier Woody Allen. Both aspects work and are funny in isolation, but the mix between urbane maturity and the bigger, more whimsical moments makes the film feel scattershot.
'2 Days in New York' is on a limited release in the UK, rated '15' by the BBFC.
My appraisal of Will Ferrell's Spanish language oddity 'Casa de mi Padre' is now up at What Culture. The comedy, which spoofs Mexican soap operas - or "telenovelas", also co-stars Gael Garcia Bernal and Diego Luna. It's pretty funny and made with obvious love, but most of all it's an interesting one-off: a strange movie with niche appeal.
Far be it from me to criticise Metrodome Distribution. After all they are to be applauded (and loudly) for bringing one of my favourite films from this year's Berlin Film Festival to the UK, in the form of Danish monarchy drama 'A Royal Affair' ('En Kongelig Affære'). Yet their handling of it troubles me, at least in terms of how it's being marketed. I reviewed that film back in February on this blog and could hardly have been more fulsome in my praise, concluding:
Everything about 'A Royal Affair' is stunning. Its ambitious scope in terms of subject matter, its intelligence, its brilliant cast of actors (I'll now happily watch anything with Alicia Vikander in it), and its lavish production values. I cried at the end, with the once vital Caroline separated from her children and living in exile, and I laughed far more and far harder than I have at the last dozen or so comedies. The story of a doctor who gives a king new confidence and inspires him to greater things, it could easily be billed as Denmark's answer to 'The King's Speech'. It's far better than that.
Yet I'm not certain the trailer (above) or theatrical poster (below) would have sold it to me. There's nothing wrong with either from an editing or design point of view, in fact both are stylish and sophisticated. But therein lies part of the problem: they aim to attract the traditional "heritage" cinema or "costume drama" audience. "Utterly seductive... an epic story of forbidden love" runs a quote from Radio Times, whilst the central image plays up the idea that this is the tale of a love triangle in fancy dress. Yes, I see the angry mob in the background, with an ominous fiery orange glow enveloping the stars, but the overwhelming impression this poster gives is that this is the tale of how two men court the same woman. Were that the case I don't think I would have been so moved by it, nor as thoroughly entertained.
What's truly great about 'A Royal Affair' - aside from the stunning performances - is that it doesn't feel at all stuffy and period bound. In fact it feels modern and dynamic. And whilst period films tend to be conservative and usually play up a romanticised view of the past, this one is all about radical political philosophy: the ideals of the enlightenment versus the grip of the ruling class in eighteenth century Europe. This is the story of how a German radical basically exploited his friendship with the insane king of Denmark in order to institute a raft of audacious reforms which quickly (and, as fate would have it, temporarily) transformed one of Europe's most politically backward countries into its most progressive. And all before the French Revolution. If you can't find a way to make that sound exciting to an audience, let alone in the fractured Europe of 2012, you have no business selling movies.
Is the titular "royal affair" important? Well, yes of course; But it isn't what the film is about. In fact even the central love story - not really a "triangle", because the king doesn't really give a damn - is mainly explored in terms of how it compromises the idealism and integrity of Johan Struensee (Mads Mikkelsen). For instance, after the affair becomes a convenient stick for the German's political opponents to beat him with using the newly free press, Struensee is driven to enact new censorship laws in an effort to safeguard his own interests. It's about how power corrupts and how absolute power corrupts absolutely. It's about the canny knack of the media and the aristocracy to mobilise the poor against their own interests - a theme that resonates very strongly today. And it's being mis-sold willfully, because the people who made the poster know and understand all of this.
'A Royal Affair' is a young film being sold as an old one for an easy buck. The market for historical costume epics is tried and trusted, whereas the appeal of eighteenth-century-radicalism-morality-fables is far less certain. I understand completely where Metrodome are coming from and I hope this release proves incredibly lucrative for them, because this film deserves to find an audience (even if it's the wrong one). I suspect many of those coming to see it on the basis that it's a scintillating love story for the ages will still enjoy the less cosy film they see before them, but the sadness is that 'A Royal Affair' could be written off by many who would find great appeal in its musing on ideology and the nature of political power.
Perhaps the image on the poster is not at fault, but rather it's the pull-quotes around it which need changing. "Utterly seductive" should be replaced by "politically incendiary" and the word "revolution" should appear somewhere. And instead of "their love would divide a nation", how about "their friendship would divide Europe"? And the word "love" (which appears twice) should not appear at all. Not because there is not a love story, but because focusing on that relationship and ignoring the ideological debate is ironically the exact same thing the yellow press does within the film. There's no doubt the marketing department played it very safe with this one and I hope it doesn't work against one of the year's best films.
'A Royal Affair' is rated '15' by the BBFC and will be released in the UK on June 15th.
'Men in Black 3' doesn't make any sense. I don't mean the time travel plot which, even if the rules are seemingly being made up as it goes along, is easy enough to follow. But it don't understand in on a much more basic level: it's existence makes no sense at all. And for two reasons. The first and most obvious is that the (largely forgotten) original films came out over a decade ago, meaning that their audience has long since grown up, whilst the kids of today surely have no idea who these characters are. Perhaps that wouldn't be a problem if this were just a brand new adventure featuring our besuited heroes, slap-happy xenophobes Agents J (Will Smith) and K (Tommy Lee Jones), but the story and its intended emotional beats require some vested interest in the relationship between these two characters. In fact Columbia seems to be marketing this sequel mainly on the strength of Josh Brolin's eerily accurate impersonation of Jones as 1960s era K - something a ten year old in 2012 could care less about.
The second reason this movie makes zero sense is thus: Will Smith is the biggest movie star on the planet. He is the only guy left in modern post-star Hollywood capable of guaranteeing a hit movie by the mere fact of his presence. Since 2002's 'Men in Black 2' every movie Smith has starred in has grossed over $160 million. His is a star so popular that even vehicles as messy and bloated as 'Hancock' and 'I Am Legend' were substantial global mega-hits. And, prior to his return to Barry Sonnenfeld's sci-fi comedy franchise, he had been away from movie screens for four years. In other words: he could have named his next project. He could have made anything he wanted. Every major studio must have been hassling him with offer after offer. Quentin Tarantino supposedly approached him to star in his upcoming western. And he chose to make 'Men in Black 3'. Just think about that. For a man who has several times stated a desire to one day run for president, that betrays an astounding lack of ambition.
Anyway, by now it's clear I'm stalling having to write about the film itself and that's because there isn't an awful lot to say. I'll lead with the few positives. 'A Serious Man' star Michael Stuhlbarg is pretty funny as Griffin, an alien who can see the future with a fairly entertaining twist: he can see all possible futures simultaneously. This paves way for some neat visual moments (as he enjoys a future baseball game in an empty stadium), some entertaining comic bits (as he frets about whether various absurd and unlikely events might come to pass) and a few nice character details (such as his multiple layers of clothing, presumably in preparation for every possible future). He is easily the best thing in the movie.
Then there's the fact that the villain, Boris the Animal, is played by 'Flight of the Conchords' funnyman Jermaine Clement. Though Clement is underutilised he does at least read lines in an entertaining way. Another plus is that several of the most irritatingly wacky supporting characters from the two previous movies have been written out, with the talking pug dog and the vaguely Hispanic cockroach guys the most welcome absentees. Unfortunately they've been joined on the casualty list by Rip Torn (whose Agent Z has been killed off between sequels), though the actor's recent legal troubles probably account for that. The problem is that his replacement is Emma Thompson who, though an infinitely superior dramatic actor, doesn't exactly bring the funny. Her character, Agent O, is also embroiled in 1960s shenanigans (played by Alice Eve) and is supposed to have been a long-term friend and love interest of Agent K - something which is undermined by the fact she's never been mentioned at all previously.
It's also to the film's detriment that, as good as Brolin's impersonation is, there is nowhere near enough Tommy Lee Jones. His sly, taciturn delivery is an essential part of what originally made the J and K partnership watchable - whereas Brolin is cast as a younger, less grumpy version of the character who doesn't really have the same appeal alongside Smith's hyper-chatty hero. Barry Sonnenfeld's handling of action and spectacle also leaves much to be desired. For instance, several scenes include shots which establish nothing more than that our hero is "very high up" - quite a mundane form of threat in a film featuring lazer-gun totting aliens and quite a boring one for an audience that's presumably just seen 'The Avengers'. Then there's the stuff we've seen before in the series - as little silver guns make aliens explode - and stuff we've seen done much better dozens of times elsewhere - such as a car chase through the streets of New York (the characters might be riding impractical futuristic motorbikes, but they're still basically just motorbikes).
The very worst thing about 'Men in Black 3' I've saved until last, and that's its basic premise and single joke: that difference is inherently hilarious and that usually the "different" are not human. The film continues the series' proud tradition of revealing how everybody with a funny face or voice or a different ethnicity to the protagonists is in fact in an alien. See that Chinese guy? He's a hideous alien! Hahaha. See that supermodel? Models are all aliens! Hahahaha. Lady Gaga? Tim Burton? Those weirdos are aliens! Hahahaha. Repeat for almost two hours. And these freaky people can be exploded and punched without consequence or guilt because, well, they're not from around here. It's basically a light family comedy about ultra-violent immigration officers.
'Men in Black 3' is out now in the UK, rated 'PG' by the BBFC.
A running theme among the half-dozen trailers that have teased Ridley Scott's 'Prometheus' is that they've tended to be more alluring and spectacular when focused on the numerous eye-catching shots of spaceships and strange alien worlds, whilst offering only fleeting glimpses at the story and characters. It turns out that's because 'Prometheus' has no story or characters. It has a basic sort of "plot", I suppose: astronauts head to a distant planet in order to find answers about the creation of mankind. And it has characters in the sense that there's a reasonably impressive international ensemble cast thanklessly filling the various spacesuits - including Noomi Rapace, Michael Fassbender, Guy Pearce, Idris Elba and Charlize Theron.
Yet there can be little doubt that 'Prometheus' is a triumph of design and special effects rather than human drama. The film looks stunning, with the CGI spaceships and beautifully crafted interior sets having a sort of painted concept art look. But for all its self-important posturing around issues of faith, god and the nature of creation, the film's pretense at being this summer's "thinking person's blockbuster" comes to nothing. During its few cod philosophical exchanges - some of which should make your toes curl - the film's grasp of the deeper issues never seems to want to venture beyond truisms. It's a shame because the set up suggests something much smarter, or at least more interesting.
Rapace, as scientist Elizabeth Shaw, is the ship's blindly faithful Christian, whilst her lover and fellow scientist (played by Logan Marshall-Green) is supposedly the on-board skeptic as they search for humanity's alien creator. Meanwhile, Fassbender is David, a humanoid robot whose behaviour is modeled on his creators, something he seeks to perfect by watching old films in his downtime. A wrinkly old Guy Pearce is his creator and surrogate father, as well as the head of the huge corporation financing the mission. Charlize Theron has her own nascent "creator" issues as the stern and possibly treacherous leader of the expedition. Given that this is nominally a prequel to Scott's seminal 'Alien', it's entirely appropriate that it should explore that franchise's theme of motherhood and the destructive, violent act of creation itself: it's a melting pot of strong character archetypes with competing ideologies, which seems primed to react - only there is no heat.
Potentially interesting characters die left and right with scarcely a decent scene to their name. Supposedly sensible people react in increasingly irrational and oddly inhuman ways as the film goes on, for instance when a group of characters voluntarily give up their lives without any clear indication of why (in fact they don't really even ask for one, but as a united group blindly accept death at the merest asking). The film lurches messily between fussily directed action scenes which lack either the body horror of 'Alien' or the excitement of a crowd-pleasing summer movie, almost as if the filmmakers lacked the courage to devote any screentime to the potentially divisive "let's all talk about religion" thing the movie seemed to kind of want to be about originally. There are nods to various big ideas and questions here and there, but they are extremely tentative.
Then there's the handling of the film's various alien creatures and their multiple messy incarnations which lack credibility even if you suspend a whole universe's supply of disbelief. (Those sensitive to SPOILERS might want to avert their gaze now.) How does this reproductive cycle work?:
1) There are rows of eggs full of black goo.
2) A human man eats the black goo and becomes a sort of crusty monster.
3) The crusty monster man has sex with a human woman and she quickly gives birth to a tentacle monster.
4) Left alone for (presumably) a few hours, said tentacle monster becomes enormous. It then latches onto a huge white alien and eats his face.
5) Once partly-devoured by the tentacle monster, the big white alien's body yields a chest-bursting, quadrupedal alien not dissimilar to the original "xenomorph".
Please explain how that makes any kind of sense. I genuinely want to know why I'm supposed to think anything other than "this sure is a random sequence of events" at this point. Even if you accept that this primordial gloop is simply enabling the rapid evolution of an organism (and that's a leap you have to make yourself), doesn't it sort of imply that the "xenomorph" would then also become something else entirely different the next step along the chain? So then why do all the Aliens in the sequels look the same? Are they supposed to represent the pinnacle of evolution? I'm honestly not trying to be pedantic in the least - I just want to know how this could possibly make sense, even in the limited way a film about sexy future-spacemen warrants.
A friend of mine said that (one of) his problem(s) with 'Prometheus' is that it raised far more questions than it answered, at least pertaining to the way it links into 'Alien' continuity. I disagree. It's not a problem that the film raises more questions than it answers - after all, so does '2001'. The problem is that the questions it raises are invariably very silly, all relating to the who-could-care-less world of the 'Alien' mythos. Whilst it labours to provide trite and convoluted answers to the grander, more universal questions that are perhaps best left enigmatic. It should have been the other way around.
'Prometheus' is out now in the UK, rated '15' by the BBFC.
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.
Jon and I haven't posted a "Pantheon" podcast for a little while, but we've timed the latest one - on Italian director Nanni Moretti - quite nicely. After all, Moretti was president of the jury in Cannes this year, where he just helped award the Palme d'Or to Michael Haneke's 'Amour'. The comedy director's most recent film 'We Have A Pope' played in competition at last year's festival, but Moretti won the top prize himself in 2001 with his uncharacteristically straight drama 'The Son's Room'. Another of his films which found an audience outside of Italy was 2006's 'The Caiman' - a look at the scandal-filled political career of Silvio Berlusconi.
Those three are varying degrees of brilliant, and probably represent his most polished work to date, but my personal favourites are his two most nakedly auto-biographical: 1993's joyously whimsical 'Caro diario' and 1998's tender and ambitious 'Aprile' (also to some extent about Berlusconi). Both are episodic and very light for the most part, but seem to best represent what Moretti is all about; He plays himself in both films, ever the self-aware, cinema-obsessed, germaphobic, left-wing intellectual, though less twitchy than Woody Allen.
On the podcast we gloss over some of his earlier films, of the late-70s and 80s. In the case of the former that's down to the fact that they're (for me at least) incredibly difficult, requiring a degree of very specific contemporary Italian cultural knowledge to get the jokes and the political jibes. There are still some very funny moments but the dialogue is very quick and super-intellectual, which doesn't lend itself particularly well to sub-titled viewing. I think the relative calm of his more laid-back and urbane later stuff might be a key reason why it works better for me. In the case of his middle period - the 1980s - those are the only of his films I haven't yet managed to see. Though that's certainly something I'm going to remedy.
In any case, the Moretti Pantheon is available now to iTunes subscribers and can also be streamed in an embedded media player here.
The Pantheon series sees us look back at the entire career (or as much of it as we can get through) of a great auteur and assess the relative merits of their work, stating our favourites. Along the way we point out key themes and preoccupations of that filmmaker and try to give some sort of context as we take a chronological walk through filmography.
A former freelance film journalist based in Brighton, I have written contributions to The Daily Telegraph and several websites, provided occasional analysis for BBC Radio Sussex and Radio Reverb, and recently I've been involved with several volumes published by Intellect Books.
I've also written about video games for GamesIndustry.biz.
I can be "followed" on Twitter:
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