127 Hours is an interesting film to witness, with the majority of the running time dedicated to James Franco's portrayal of self-proclaimed adrenaline junkie Aron Ralston and his time within the secluded and isolated world of the canyon prison. Although the narrative hits all the regular beats of appreciating family, making the most of your love life and never taking anything for granted, it approaches the themes in an entertainingly fun and unique way, giving us surrealistic flashbacks through Aron's life as dehydration sets in and hallucinations begin to border in on his psyche. In this sense you could argue that the film does not take place solely in this canyon but in the mind of Aron as he accepts the fact that death is imminent and his imagination begins to take over. Even Scooby-Doo makes a guest appearance. As most of you will know, Ralston escapes eventually, at the tether of his sanity, his liberator being a cheap pen knife. This escape occurs during a sudden moment that pricks the screen violently; Ralston stabbing his arm after applying a tourniquet and continuing his self-mutilation by cracking the bones and finally hacking his forearm off (the limb that has caught him between the rock and the canyon wall). Aron stumbles out into the sunlight from his vacation in his personal hell, with the crack in the world that swallowed him up finally defeated. It is a triumphant moment that could have mistakenly been depicted as something miserably gloomy, with the protagonist having just chopped his own arm off. Instead it is just this, triumphant and liberating, Boyle not focusing upon the hideous nature of what is occurring. However, the process of the amputation is terrifically squeamish, the pain and the sound effects almost jittering the pain of his situation through into the audience's teeth as nerves are hit and blood is split. James Franco took on a huge responsibility when taking on this role and he gives a knock out performance. If it wasn't for Colin Firth's outstanding performance in The King's Speech, Franco would be a high contender for Best Actor during this year's award season. He dives between moments of humour and scenes of tragedy, the tipping of a few drops of water turning into moments of teary horror. Franco's Ralston comes across in equal measures of annoying selfishness and loveable yet tragic hero. If it wasn't for his ego and obsession with becoming 'Aron Ralston, Hard Hero Man', he would have informed a relative of his whereabouts. Instead he has opted for the mirage of untethered adventurer, ignoring family and friends and going about things his way. It is a tough personality to depict whilst trying to keep the audience rooting for Ralston, and Franco balances his performance perfectly. Like all of his past efforts, Boyle's film is further improved by a tremendous soundtrack, teaming up with Slumdog Millionaire's composer A.R.Rahman once again and offering us pounding music to accompany the opening scenes of the film and Aron's pursuit of adventure. Boyle's camera work is quirky and fun also, littering the film with split screen effects and surreal hallucinations of blurriness. The films only quibble would be near the end of Ralston's time in the canyon and the sometimes rather cheesy scenes involving his family all collected together around a sofa watching him as a heavenly light washes them in a glow. Franco's earlier shadowed speeches into his video camera saying thank you and sorry to his family are far more moving and desperate than the hallucinations, and their work is somewhat undone when the helpless gloomy atmosphere the film has acquired is disrupted by these over the top images. 127 Hours, sometimes beautiful, other times harrowing, is a wonderfully unique film showcasing brilliant filmmaking and a stand out performance, completely justifying its position within this award seasons' handful of films. 4/5
So it would seem the film world is all in a flapper after the Golden Globes. He won this, she won that, this film won whatsit. However, one of the biggest talks of tinsel town this month has been the, homely-girl-next-door actress, Natalie Portman. She has managed to sweep up a whirlwind of pre award season chatter with her performance in Darren Aronofsky's latest film, Black Swan, critics and fans goading her on for Best Actress, which she indeed won at the Golden Globes, and rightly so.
It is odd to use the following phrase in conjunction with Portman, an already established actress, but watching this film is like watching an actress being born, or in this case, reborn. Black Swan is a masterstroke of cinema, a blot of brilliance on the landscape of Hollywood that many a film snob like to make snide comments upon; Hollywood, an industry affected by sequel-titus and afflicted with reboots and remakes. And then Darren Aronofsky comes along, and presents us with this film. And what a film.
The reason for the usage of the earlier description of 'homely-girl-next-door', was to show the real transformation Portman bestows upon herself in her role as Nina Sayers, high rising ballet dancer who has dreams of being cast as the Swan Queen in the latest reimagining of the infamous ballet, Swan Lake. She begins as a porcelain gentle and fragile girl with an over bearing mother figure, their relationship showing parallels to the destructive mother-daughter relationship of Brian De Palma's also brilliant, Carrie.
Nina comes across as an isolated figure, regularly sat by herself in the backstage corridors of the dance halls, girls giving her snide comments and malicious giggles. But although fragile, there is a hard rigid mask to her that encases the character of Nina within her own secular world. From the outset the character is one of paradoxes, hard and private yet apologetic and sympathetic. When she manages to reach her dream and is cast as the Swan Queen, this inner character of inconsistencies begins to come untethered as multiple dominant figures impinge on her sanity. Nina is torn in different directions that only allow for further dots of insanity to weasel their way into this private and enclosed world she strives to live in.
But fill a bowl with too much water and it will eventually overspill, and this is just what happens, Portman spectacularly delving into the over spilling psyche of a damaged girl who cannot cope with the controlling figures leering over her. As stated, Natalie Portman becomes a whole new actress, a powerhouse of acting talent with the watchful eyes of Aronofsky directing her to perfection. As the transformation from white swan to black afflicts Portman's character, we are instead presented with an altogether different swan; a grey swan, a swan of madness and disaster, a swan who is attacked by horrific hallucinations that terrorise Portman and her audience in equal measure.
Nina dips in-between the different coloured worlds and their rules, finding sexual adventure in the world of the black swan, brought about through Vincent Cassel's Swan Lake director, and Mila Kunis' seductive fellow ballet dancer. And as she falls further down the rabbit hole, we find her constantly trying to climb back out, back to the sensibilities of the white swan and her formulaic box shaped world that she inhabited prior to her Swan Queen casting.
Aronofsky brings his touches of genius to the film-making, elevating what would have already been a fascinating film into a classic piece of cinema. His camera drops us suddenly and abruptly into his claustrophobic narrative world from the outset, the camera always in close, trapping the audience within Nina's self-created world and keeping us in touch with a character who is so out of touch. It creates a rollercoaster ride for the audience and makes for an incredibly intense film as the moments of surreal hallucinations tear holes in what would have been a consistent narrative.
But rather wonderfully this inconsistent narration brings about ripples of uncertainty as we are sucked into a dimension of doppelgangers and untrusted shadowed reflections. It is hard to find a single scene in the film where there is not a mirror, presenting us with as many different versions of Nina as she seems to have of herself in her head. And yet again praise upon Portman for giving us this believable portrayal of so many characters wrapped up within a single entity. The final complete transformation into the black swan is an incredible moment to behold.
Of course further praise goes to Aronofsky for his pitch perfect direction of Portman and his control of the camera. The initial opening dream sequence has the camera wrap in amongst the tittering feet of Portman, his hand held shots strangely not tearing away the glamour of ballet but improving it. With his sweeping and up-close camera, something that could have torn down the veils of the magic of ballet manoeuvres but instead escalates it into even more of a poetic art form. These scenes are then juxtaposed against the realistic back stage breaks and tears of the performer's feet and the strain these athletic bodies are put under once the magnetism of the dancing has faded.
Black Swan is every bit a Darren Aronofsky film as his past endeavours. As he has stated, it is a follow up to his previous film The Wrestler and Black Swan does indeed play out like his sequel, both films delving into similar themes. The pocket-marked and scarred hulking form of Mickey Rourke is now replaced with the delicately torn and coming apart at the seams figure of Portman's ballet dancer, Rourke's damaged heart replaced with Portman's damaged mind. But then it could be stated that the dark moments of the film that look into the recesses of a person's mental state as they fall apart under the pressures of their God given talent, has more in connection with what Aronofsky presented us with in his debut feature film, Pi.
It is easy to sit here all day and glorify Black Swan but it is a film that simply has to be witnessed to be believed. At times disturbingly scary and others emotionally intense, it is a masterpiece that is brought about through superb performances and incredible direction that will suck you into the unstable world that the film sets out to create.
By the time the credits are rolling you'll find yourself stuck within the landscape of Nina's broken mind, victim to the same limbo she has been afflicted by, with the lasting effects of Darren Aronofsky's intrusive film washing over you. In short, Black Swan is a massive film that deserves a massive audience.
5/5
Written for www.devilsdeeds.com
We find ourselves at that point in time again, where everything else occurring seems unimportant and the world begins to spin backwards, propelled by the constant blabbering mouths and typing fingers as the debating and discussing of the awards season commences. Hello Golden Globes, Hello Baftas, Hello Oscars. Yes, it is that time again.
As one of the big contenders for a plethora of awards this season, The King’s Speech has had a lot of buzz and talk circulating around it. But this can sometimes hinder a film, its expectations raised sky high and then dropping when the audience finally clambers into their cinema seat and realises it was all hot air. Thankfully, The King’s Speech is not one of these, not in the slightest. And let me raise those expectations even higher for you, because it is an utterly brilliant, moving and oddly intense piece of cinema that inspires, enthrals and most importantly, makes you proud to be British.
Charting the rise of King George VI and his constant battle with his stammer, The King’s Speech on paper sounds like an odd film that could, in the wrong hands, come across as somewhat dull. In Tom Hooper’s skilful hands and with Colin Firth at the helm of the role as King George VI, it becomes wonderfully intriguing and captures your attention immediately.
The main draw of the film is the unlikely friendship that gradually forms between King George VI and his speech therapist, Lionel Logue (Geoffrey Rush). It is a slow moving friendship that is sometimes hampered by the sudden angry outbursts of King George, or Bertie as he is referred to by family and Logue, his patience worn thin through a life time of being unheard. But it is a beautifully depicted friendship that weaves throughout the film gracefully, the world of Logue, an everyday out spoken ‘commoner’ forcefully meshing with the ravishingly wealthy yet uptight world of the Royals.
The film not only gives us insight into the true story of this friendship but also the family dramas of the Royal family. We find Bertie’s older brother David inheriting the throne yet dismissing his duty for his love of a (shock horror) twice-divorced American, causing scandal amongst the Royal family. With World War II approaching and an almost medieval family feud erupting, Bertie eventually finds himself ascending to the throne, with the daunting duty of fulfilling a wartime speech to Britain looming ahead. Ultimately, the climax of the film comes down to Bertie’s delivery of his speech, a speech that will hold him up as the symbol of British pride, a speech that must gather the strands of his country together and put up a verbal front against Nazi Germany. For the brief minutes of his speech, he must become Britain. No pressure then…
It is shocking how incredibly intense this climax becomes, with various close-ups of Firth’s perpetually struggling face as he fights his way through the English language, dicing up the footage as it cuts between different groups of the British public. It is a technique used throughout the film to great effect; Firth’s shirts are always buttoned up as high as possible, contorting his entire body and character into this expression of red faced and clucking frustration, pulling the audience into the world of sympathising bystander, unable to help. He does a brilliant job of realistically portraying this rather violent stammer, not once falling into a parody and always shifting skins like a snake between roles of family man and reluctant ruler, wrapped within boyhood phobias imparted to him through the sins of his father. In short, he is a human being, abundant in contradictions and mistakes while also having to stand as the figurehead of a nation. All I can say is look up Oscar winner in the Dictionary; you’ll see a picture of Colin Firth right there. His performance is simply fantastic.
The supporting cast is perfect, with Helena Bonham Carter jostling through her role as the late Queen Mother in her prime; in a hilarious montage of speech training techniques, she sits on her husband’s chest as he breathes in and out - and is clearly having fun. Believe it or not, the Royals can actually have fun. Geoffrey Rush is entertaining also, storming through his role as out spoken colonial Australian who refuses to give into the initial ‘mightier than thou’ attitude of King George VI.
David Seidler’s script patiently allows each character to breathe, with Tom Hooper’s camera drawing all the attention to the characters while simultaneously licking up every gorgeous detail within each environment. Logue’s brown toned work space is pitted against the dripping luxury of Buckingham Palace, the production design of each location speaking volumes, with the golds of the Palace almost swallowing Firth up in their dominant splendour, while Logue’s paper stripped yet uniquely coloured walls give him room to breathe and control the space.
The King’s Speech has quietly crept into the world’s subconscious, a tale singing inspirational triumph while also championing friendships that can be found in the oddest of places. It is a remarkable piece of cinema that neither bores nor underwhelms and keeps an emotional attachment throughout, certain scenes involving Firth’s realisation of his duty lasting mere minutes but managing to evolve into powerhouse moments of emotion.
More British than dipping one of the Queen’s corgis into a vat of marmite and sending it off down the Thames on a union jack, The King’s Speech is the film to be championing this year as the award season beckons, the British takeover of the Oscars 2011 is imminent.
5/5
Written for www.suite101.com
Everyone has bad days. You might miss the train to work, get splashed by a passing car, and then finally return home to find your oven broken and the central heating down. While you wallow in self-pity on the sofa, try watching The Next Three Days and you’ll realize things could be worse. You could in fact be locked in prison serving life for a crime you didn’t commit with no chance of a successful appeal to prove your innocence. How's that for perspective?
Crash director Paul Haggis’ latest film, The Next Three Days, centres around such a dilemma. Russell Crowe plays John Brennan, a man who must deal with the fact that his wife, Lara Brennan, (Elizabeth Banks) has abruptly been imprisoned for murdering her boss. Not even considering the fact that she could be guilty, he fights her corner, and when any chance of an appeal fails, he takes drastic action against the officials who have snatched his life away and ruined his son’s childhood. He is going to break her free from Pittsburgh prison - one of the biggest urban prisons in America.
First things first, this is a remake of a French film, Anything For Her. While we could focus upon this fact, gripe and moan about the state of Hollywood and its evolution into a remaking and rebooting machine, instead, let’s not. Let’s simply judge this film on its own credentials
The initial opening scenes of the film are well crafted character introduction pieces. The Brennan family is established nicely with a kitchen scene involving amusing bickering and loving comments thrown in for good measure. However, as soon as we settle in with the Brennans, everything is violently torn apart. A patch of blood is discovered on Lara Brennan's coat and the situation suddenly escalates from a household moment of washing an unknown stain off a coat into a brutal police intervention.
Paul Haggis then begins to craft a wonderfully moving drama, Russell Crowe and Elizabeth Banks' finest moment in the film is the realization that the chance of an appeal has failed. Neither speaks a word but both flood with emotion, breaking down on either side of a prison partition glass at the prospect of her life sentence being just this; Life.
Once the realization that she will not be getting out of prison anytime soon hits, Brennan undertakes the ridiculous task of breaking her free. The tale then evolves from the moving family drama to that of the fable of David vs Goliath; the everyday man VS the police system. It is here where the credibility starts to fade and Brennan evolves into a gun toting criminal, breaking into medical vans, participating in drug den shoot outs and dumping bodies at bus stops.
It begins to undo the work of the first half of the film which established a strong connection between the audience and the character of Brennan. While he does not become a dislikeable man, we as an audience are detached from him abruptly as the film changes from a drama to an action thriller.
When the prison break announces itself and the action truly takes over, The Next Three Days, does become highly enjoyable, but for completely different reasons than the touching first half. The break out and subsequent chase scene to make the border in time is heart pounding stuff. There are many hiccups along the way that cast doubt over the attempt. It is exciting stuff, though it does drag itself out for quite some time.
While in essence, The Next Three Days, is an action thriller, it is at its best focusing upon the quiet moments, the emotional depiction of a family torn apart by a sequence of events caused by being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Despite the bumpy transition from drama to thriller, the film is still enjoyable, laced with emotional moments of intensity, adrenaline inducing chases and some excellent character moments.
The Next Three Days is a perfect film for that Friday night as you sit there on your sofa with your pot noodle at hand. Just think, at least you aren't in prison.
3/5http://www.suite101.com/content/the-next-three-days-review-a333338
Reviewed by James CheethamEnter, stage left, Catfish. Is it a documentary? Is it a hoax? Who cares, because the question you should be asking is; is it a good film? Well I have the answer; Yes, it bloody well is.
Catfish’s central argument can be seen to relate the film to the infamous Rear Window, the plates of glass across the New York apartment landscape in Hitchcock’s masterpiece being replaced with our digital ages modern portals; texting, Facebooking, youtubing, telephoning. They are all windows into different people’s lives, but in our modern era these portals can now be set askew, transforming the person behind them into something they are not, something they long to be.
Interesting, emotionally involving, sometimes disturbing and always unsettling, Catfish is definitely a film to see. With themes of identity, truth, romance and loneliness being abundant, it is hardly the perfect Christmas seasonal viewing material, but it is definitely a thought provoking experience.