One Cut of the Dead (2017)

 ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

One Cut of the Dead (2017) – S. Ueda

Not what I expected at all (and therefore so much better).  Described by SBS as “real zombies attack a film crew making a zombie movie” and it might be that for the first 30 minutes or so – but it isn’t only that or even really that.  I can’t write the review without explaining what happens after the first 30 minutes so stop here, if you’d like to be surprised like I was.  That said, the Japanese title (Kamera o tomeru na! or Don’t Stop Shooting!) pretty much gives things away.  The “real” plot involves a middling director (Takayuki Hamatsu) hired to film a zombie movie live in one take for a broadcast event – and the first 30 minutes is exactly that.  This “one cut” is indeed pretty thrilling but also rather odd with strange longueurs and unexpected dialogues, entrances, and exits.  When the characters run, they really run and the hand-held camera bounces along behind them.  Of course, watching this at first, you don’t really understand the technical challenges required to make the film flow (and sometimes not flow).  Therefore, the subsequent hour of the film takes you through the making of the film – but the genius here (from what appears to be an actual film class/collective) is that this “making of” is also fictional, with the script delightfully “explaining” all the weirdness in the zombie film that we’ve already seen (and now see again from behind the scenes, still in “real time” but no longer one cut).  Only in the end credits do we get a glimpse the actual crew making the real one cut zombie film.  Given the extreme low budget (made for $25K but earned $25 million), this reminded me of Kore-Eda’s After Life (1998) where amateur players recreate dead people’s most cherished memories, also on a shoestring.  And just like that film, One Cut of the Dead has a lot of heart, endearing yourself to the ragtag crew and in this case its central family.  Well worth your time, whether you like zombies or not!  The zombies are incidental!

 

First Reformed (2017)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ 

First Reformed (2017) – P. Schrader

Director Paul Schrader once wrote a book about transcendental cinema that focused on Bresson, Ozu, and Dreyer – and he echoes those masters in this film.  Ethan Hawke plays a Protestant minister struggling with his faith, so you could point more specifically to Bresson’s Diary of a Country Priest or Bergman’s Winter Light as forerunners. We hear Hawke’s own tormented diary entries in voiceover, as in the former film. But Hawke’s Reverend Toller has his faith shaken by a more modern concern: the fact that humans are destroying the Earth via our inability to avert climate change (plus toxic waste, etc.). “Will God Forgive Us?” becomes his catchphrase. As if this wasn’t enough to worry about, Schrader digs deeper, also burdening Toller with an adult son who has died (in the Iraq war), a broken marriage, a drinking problem, an affair that ended poorly, and possibly stomach cancer.  His boss (Cedric the Entertainer) from the nearby mega-church is starting to have concerns about Toller’s fitness for duty (at the small historic church that is more tourist destination than real place of worship). Hawke does a solid job at playing the stoic, but we can see from his internet searches that he is quietly plotting something. At the same time, he befriends a young pregnant widow (Amanda Seyfried) who shares his worries about the environment (and also some trippy moments where Schrader lets his freak flag fly). And then, and then, and then, the movie rushes to a sudden surprise conclusion that I am still puzzling over.  Was it all just selfish pride, now diverted? Or are we seeing joy and relief at the discovery of communion of purpose and the end to loneliness? Where does God figure in this? Schrader does not give us any easy answers but a lot to mull over.

 

The Rider (2017)

 ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

The Rider (2017) – C. Zhao

Bleak, sombre and somehow opaque study of a young rodeo rider who sees his dreams closed off after a terrible head injury. Brady Jandreau essentially plays a version of himself and director Chloé Zhao leaves him alone with his feelings for long stretches of the film. (This is the opaque part). He is joined by his real dad and intellectually impaired real sister, also playing versions of themselves.  All non-actors.  Brady struggles with his desire to ride again and even to compete riding broncos once more, knowing that any additional fall could be fatal.  We see him bond with horses and recognise his real talents in working with them and feel sorrow for his plight. However, we also see that fate has let him off (relatively) easy, as his best mate, also a budding rodeo star, is now a paraplegic after a fall (also playing himself).  Yet despite these terrible dangers, none of the boys seem to be able to pull away from the allure of the rodeo and Brady does nothing to dissuade his friends (and fans) from engaging in the same behaviours that harmed him and his friend. It’s hard to know what’s on his mind – but the impoverished cultural milieu all around them (in Pine Ridge, South Dakota) probably means that dangerous dreams die hard. There’s an unavoidable documentary feel here but Zhao’s poetic direction lifts it into a more introspective vein.

  

A Ghost Story (2017)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ½

A Ghost Story (2017) – D. Lowery

To be honest, I was a little apprehensive about this one.  Would it be too depressing? After all, the description suggests it is about love and loss and a ghost that lingers after death.  And it is all those things.  In fact, the ghost lingers long after love and loss are maybe only a distant memory.  In fact, the ghost seems tied to the place (as in the classic “haunted house” genre) rather than to a person.  Director David Lowery manages to allude to the tropes of that genre while instead making what is really an experimental film (but one that is absorbing and watchable and not hard work at all, in case that term turns you away).  Amusingly, the ghost is the well-known spectre in a sheet (with two sad eyes cut out) which may have a Brechtian effect (?).  Although the film is virtually wordless, somewhere in the middle there is a long monologue by Will Oldham (yes, Bonnie Prince Billy) that tries to put our humble existence into context.  So, yeah, it’s an existential statement but also cosmic and spiritual, sad and stirring, and possibly romantic (that last scene may or may not belie this).  Only 90 minutes and so worth it!

The Florida Project (2017)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

The Florida Project (2017) – S. Baker

Director Sean Baker caught my attention with 2015’s Tangerine, a story of down-but-not-out transgender prostitutes in Hollywood shot entirely on iPhones.  His latest film shifts locations to Orlando, Florida, but retains the emphasis on those doing it hard at the bottom. More poignantly, his focus is on very young children who retain a wonderful joie-de-vivre despite their situation.  Specifically, these kids live at a motel (“Magical Kingdom”) that is managed by long-suffering but good-natured Bobby (Willem Dafoe, the only recognisable cast member, in a perfect performance).  He looks after his long-term tenants, particularly Halley (Bria Vinaite), a young unemployed single mum, who loves her six-year-old daughter Moonee (Brooklynn Prince) but wouldn’t win any parenting awards.  Moonee and her friends are free range, running wild across parking lots between shops and busy roads, making mischief but having fun.  Things are not so easy-going for Halley but she tries to have fun; however, her rebellious anger (who gives a f attitude), seemingly (but not overtly) attributable to her lack of money and opportunity, causes problems for her. Baker shows us just one “magical” summer (from the kids’ perspective) but we know it can only lead to a dead end.  It’s wistful, slice-of-life stuff – but there’s an unavoidable tension here, particularly for parents.  Baker doesn’t judge his characters, he just shows us how bleak things are, in the shadow of a real fantasy world only moments away but impossible to reach. The kids just don’t know this yet.

The Square (2017)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

The Square (2017) – R. Östlund

Far from perfect and politically distant from my own views, yet unusual, provocative, and surprising enough to warrant 4 stars (but did it deserve the Palme d’Or?).  Director Ruben Östlund hones in on the world of contemporary modern/post-modern art and skewers it rather unsubtly, with those same old-and-worn points suggesting that art is a con-game (even monkeys – or bonobos – can create it; you could put any old object in a museum and call it art; even curators don’t understand the obfuscating jargon used to describe it).  A richer vein of inquiry focuses on the presence or absence of altruistic motivation in humans/human society; this is the focus of the artwork/exhibition that the Swedish X-Royal museum, curated by Christian (Claes Bang), is hosting, entitled The Square.  “The Square is a sanctuary of trust and caring. Within it we all share equal rights and obligations.”  Apparently Östlund has filmed portions of a real exhibition (on trust?) and also modelled the most memorable scene (where a group of rich art patrons is challenged and threatened by a man pretending to be an ape) on a real event that took place in a Swedish museum. That doesn’t take away from the success of the film but it blurs the authorship a bit.  Similarly blurry is the take-home point about altruism.  Curator Christian is a flawed character:  he engages in an altruistic act but is punished for doing so and responds with a misguided attack of his own which has a rippling set of consequences. Östlund foregrounds evolutionary psychology by having Christian ready to engage in indiscriminate sex (but ironically protecting his semen, in a very bizarre scene – perhaps suggesting a modern over-riding of the historical male motive) whereas his latest conquest, played by Elizabeth Moss, embodies the female concern with having an emotional connection with a partner (who can provide security for offspring).  Östlund may be satirizing evolutionary psychology – or more probably, he is satirizing our efforts to transcend the baser motives from our ancestral roots (which I believe we can and often should do).  In interviews, Östlund refers to humans as herd animals who keep their heads down when there is a threat rather than reach out to help another in distress – a justification for the well-known “bystander effect”.  I’m not sure this necessarily works either – or we shouldn’t accept it as an excuse; by having Christian played for a sucker when he does intervene, Östlund highlights our failing ability to trust others in our society.  On this point, I think we may agree – it is sad that we have transformed into a society that is fearful of others (and that our politicians utilise this fear for political gain) – but the film offers no solution to this problem.  The Square itself is not given the chance it deserves to operate as a way out (I hesitate to say “it takes a village” but that is the point, I think) – and again, perhaps Östlund sees it as unviable.  For my mind, however, efforts to build trust and a sense of community (especially where division has been sown) would be worthwhile.  Setting aside these deeper points, the film is often funny and sometimes wry in a Roy Andersson way, anecdotal rather than purely plot-driven, suspenseful and discomfort-inducing, and obviously thought-provoking and challenging.

Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri (2017)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri (2017) – M. McDonagh

Eccentric characters and an unusual unpredictable storyline do elevate films; the predictable Hollywood film has grown tiresome.  In Martin McDonagh’s Oscar-winning tragicomedy, we are treated to some very peculiar events in a fictional Missouri town, populated by extreme people (played by superstar actors).  The tone is comic but the content is dark, very dark – perhaps this allows us to face it more easily?  Frances McDormand plays a woman whose daughter was raped and murdered and who seeks to push the police to solve the case by putting up billboards to humiliate them.  Woody Harrelson is the police chief who is dying of cancer and stymied by the case.  Sam Rockwell is the not-too-bright but racist and hot-headed officer who butts heads with McDormand.  An assortment of excellent supporting players fill out the cast.  Each of the central figures follows an arc that shows some personal growth – and we are asked to contemplate how grief (and impending death) affect people.  McDormand and Rockwell show us some reactions.  Wittily, Harrelson attempts to foresee how others will react to his own death.  Although we may not get the ending that we hoped for (a good thing, perhaps), the film as a whole is refreshingly blunt (led all the way by McDormand’s brash portrayal) and a setting/cast that could easily spin-off a quirky miniseries. We want to see more of this town and its denizens.

  

Isle of Dogs (2017)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Isle of Dogs (2017) – W. Anderson

Director Wes Anderson’s latest film is a stop-motion animated curiosity taking place in a miniature version of future Japan (capital city, Megasaki).  Taking inspiration from the Rankin-Bass Christmas specials (e.g. Rudolph), this is a fun (but grown-up) adventure, telling how a dog-hating mayor evicts all canines to “Trash Island” where they are left to die, suffering from dog-flu and snout-fever and all manner of other ailments.  It is Anderson’s renowned attention to whimsical detail that sees his characters perpetually sneezing throughout the film – but of course, that’s just one small example.  Although the dogs speak in English, most of the other characters speak in Japanese, only occasionally translated (by a variety of interpreters or electronic translating machines).  The human hero of the tale, a 12-year-old boy named Atari (voiced by Koyu Rankin), flies a small junior aircraft to Trash Island to find his former pet bodyguard, Spots (voiced by Liev Schreiber).  He is assisted by four former pet dogs (voiced by Edward Norton, Bob Balaban, Jeff Goldblum, and Bill Murray) and a stray (voiced by Bryan Cranston).  They have quite the adventure.  A teenaged human exchange student (voiced by Greta Gerwig) also helps by fighting the corrupt government and exposing an evil conspiracy.  Along the way, Anderson enjoys spoofing and/or paying homage to Japanese culture.  There is probably too much to look at or to take in for just one sitting. The music is less song based than in other Anderson features – for example, some of the music is apparently drawn from Seven Samurai (1954) -- but there is also the West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band’s “I Won’t Hurt You” (which certainly fits with what we know of Anderson’s musical taste).  Harvey Keitel, Scarlett Johansson, Yoko Ono, and F. Murray Abraham also lend their vocal talents, along with an array of Japanese actors.  As with Anderson’s other output, you really need to be on his wavelength to appreciate this – and I was (and have been).  So, if you have liked his other films, you won’t be disappointed with this one.  I found it silly but highly enjoyable.   

  

The Shape of Water (2017)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

The Shape of Water (2017) – G. del Toro

Director Guillermo del Toro is really a master craftsman and this film shows him to have reached something of a peak – you can see the beauty onscreen.  Yet it is surprising that this won the Best Picture Oscar because it is still a “weird tale” in keeping with del Toro’s oeuvre (which includes The Devil’s Backbone, 2001, and Pan’s Labyrinth, 2006, alongside other more overt genre fare).  A bizarre mix of The Creature from the Black Lagoon and an odd couple romance that harkens back to the creature double features of the 1950s/60s while still including enough content that is strictly adults only (nudity/sexual references, swearing, bloody violence, etc.).  Sally Hawkins plays a mute cleaner at a high security scientific facility at which a humanoid river monster has been locked up; she shows him compassion and, being lonely herself, soon falls in love.  Her only friends, played by Octavia Spencer and Richard Jenkins, help her to rescue her “man” who is in danger of being vivisected under orders of a tough security guy played by Michael Shannon.  The Russians also have an interest in these proceedings (since it is the Cold War era).  I tried to resist but the film gradually won me over; despite its heart-warming romance, it stays weird, champions the outcasts, and has lots of little touches done well.  Del Toro and his team seem not to have ignored any detail on screen, everything seems fondly chosen on purpose to fit with a “vision” with very little attempt to cater to mainstream tastes, save only for the high production values, beautiful art design, and tasteful blend of CGI and costume/make-up/prosthesis. Certainly worth your time.   

Lady Bird (2017)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Lady Bird (2017) – G. Gerwig

Another movie depicting a teenager coming of age, but with a distinct difference.  In particular, this film is told from the female point-of-view, written and directed by Greta Gerwig (star of Frances Ha, 2012) and starring Saoirse Ronan (who has real talent and carries the film).  There are some elements that are familiar (American high school situations, such as the drama club, prom, applying to college) but they seem an authentic part of life rather than set-pieces for comedy or pathos. The central characters feel well-rounded and less stereotypic than in other films of this type; even small parts feel genuine, such as the older priest and nun who are portrayed humanely and with warmth (and yes, comedy and pathos).  Lady Bird (Saoirse’s character) is clearly having identity issues, as most teenagers do, rebelling against parents (particularly the tough mom played intensely by Laurie Metcalf) or teachers, ditching the nerdy friends of the past for the cool crowd, falling in love with the wrong boys, and dreaming of leaving her hometown (Sacramento) for a cooler place.  Many small moments are nicely observed and it is difficult not to recall similar experiences from one’s own life – except the setting for the film is 2002-2003 (when Gerwig graduated from high school) and not 1984-1985.  But perhaps some human needs, feelings, mistakes, complexities, and resolutions don’t change too rapidly and whether this is Gerwig’s own story or not, the truths in the telling transcend the specificity of time and place.  A funny loving ode to youth (and not forgetting your roots).

Star Wars: The Last Jedi (2017)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Star Wars: The Last Jedi (2017) – R. Johnson

At this point in the saga’s development, Star Wars fans have learned to extract the good bits from each film and to overlook missteps and excesses.  That is, I’m not sure anyone is wholeheartedly accepting all of the directorial or production choices in each film anymore.  (But I say that still not having seen Revenge of the Sith, 2005).  Rian Johnson (who made a promising directorial debut with teen noir, Brick, 2005) guides the franchise’s renewal here, focusing attention on Luke Skywalker (Mark Hamill) after the previous film zoomed in on Han Solo.  Princess Leia, er General Organa, also stars – in a part shot just before Carrie Fisher’s death.  We pick up where we left off with new heroine Rey (Daisy Ridley) on planet Ahch-To (Ireland’s beautiful Skellig Michael Island) as she approaches Luke to return to the Resistance, to rejuvenate the Jedi religion, and to take on the First Order, led by supreme leader Snoke and Han Solo & Leia’s son Ben (Adam Driver), now turned to the dark side of the Force and called Kylo Ren.  Meanwhile, the rebel fleet is being attacked by the First Order’s battleships and might soon be completely wiped out, if a crazy plan involving a casino at Canto Bight doesn’t come off (John Boyega and Kelly Marie Tran star in this sequence with Benicio del Toro as a shifty ally).  As promised, there is a lot of action (with Oscar Isaac returning as fighter pilot Poe Dameron and Laura Dern joining as a Vice Admiral) and things do blow up and light sabres do get to thrusting and slicing.  Johnson’s production design is splendid, whether CGI or not, with color-matched costumes and widescreen interstellar backgrounds.  The Jedi “tree” is a nice touch (and the scene in which it features contains another treat for the older generation).  But the film does seem to drag on and there are times when it gets exposition-heavy (explaining the relationship between Luke and Kylo Ren) and some plot developments feel “unearned”.  But as I said, Star Wars fans have learned to overlook some things (and fortunately the porg aren’t as intrusively cute as the ewoks before them).  All told, an enjoyable return to this universe – but it is hard to say where Episode IX could go.

  

Phantom Thread (2017)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ 

Phantom Thread (2017) – P. T. Anderson

Paul Thomas Anderson’s “fashion film” is actually nothing about fashion (except perhaps as a working example for a partial study of the creative process itself). Instead, this is a film about relationships between people, how we react and respond to each other’s needs and personalities – and how we choose behaviours to complement or counteract those of our partner.  Daniel Day-Lewis again plays a domineering and powerful archetype, focused only on maintaining the conditions that he feels allow him the perfect environment for designing dresses for the rich and elite in 1950s London.  He always has his own way and his sister Cyril (Lesley Manville) polices his rules among the staff and others who enter the house.  However, it is clear that she is able to maintain her own independence and can resist his tempers, if she chooses.  Reynolds Woodcock (Day-Lewis) is a confirmed bachelor but appears to have made a habit of inviting young women to live with him as model, muse, and seamstress; then, when he tires of them, they are discarded, sent away by Cyril. Enter Alma (Vicky Krieps), a foreign waitress, who is seduced by Woodcock to take up this role.  However, she has ideas of her own about how the dressmaker should be treated.  Thus, the film vibrates to a set of tensions between Woodcock and Alma and between Alma and Cyril.  Woodcock hallucinates visions of his mother in her (second) wedding dress that he sewed for her, suggesting a persistent need/desire that perhaps Alma will fulfil for him.  Is it possible that we unconsciously select partners who can satisfy these (largely unconscious) wants? Or is it really the luck of the draw and bad pairings will out themselves?  As the movie progresses, it is hard to know which pattern will prevail.  As with previous Anderson films, the period design and cinematography are exquisite, all the more incredible because Anderson apparently served as his own Director of Photography with ample assistance from his camera operators and other crew members.  Although most of the film takes place inside Woodcock’s lavish house (a chamber piece, then), the shots that are outside are like a breath of fresh air, especially those night-time driving scenes in the Bristol 405.  Anderson manages to capture different textures by using various forms of natural light (including the scenes where Alma speaks to the young doctor by firelight) and there is no denying that his artistry is being sustained at a peak; his films are all worth watching and anxiously awaiting.  That said, Phantom Thread takes its own sweet time developing its relationships and its central tensions and resolution (if resolution there be) and it is necessary to be patient and perhaps even to re-watch this one to absorb its subtle pleasures.

Call Me By Your Name (2017)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Call Me By Your Name (2017) – L. Guadagnino

A breezy summer romance and/or a coming-of-age tale that also explores the tentative worries and secret freedoms of same-sex attraction.  Oliver (Armie Hammer) is an American graduate student (or post-doc) who comes to stay in Italy for the summer of 1983 to do research with a professor (of archaeology or ancient civilisations, perhaps) and to live in the professor’s summer chalet.  There he meets the professor’s 17-year-old son, Elio (Timothée Chalamet), and it is Elio’s story that we follow.  Although it is not quite clear for most of the first half of the film, in which Elio and Oliver develop a hesitant friendship, each is attracted to the other. You can feel the awkwardness when Elio finds a way to dance near Oliver during the Psychedelic Furs’ Love My Way at a local dance (and yes, “there’s an Armie on the dancefloor” indeed).  For Elio, this is likely to be his first affair with a man (and he initially responds to his own feelings by losing his virginity to a female admirer) but we don’t quite know about Oliver – he is a mystery to us as well as to Elio.  As the movie progresses, so does their relationship.  James Ivory’s Oscar-winning screenplay fortunately does not deal in stereotypes and the characters and their up-and-down relationship feel human and real.  Italy itself seems a fantasy world – and as all summers end, so too must the fantasy (although the wise and sensitive parents encourage Elio to cherish his memories).  I’m not really a big romance movie watcher and although this film avoided most (if not all) of the clichés of the genre, it was the final shot (over which the credits roll and the music of Sufjan Stevens plays) that really elevated the whole film to something special.  It was at that moment that I remembered what it was like to be a heartbroken teen in the ‘80s.

  

Get Out (2017)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Get Out (2017) – J. Peele

A horror movie with something extra – it’s told from the African-American perspective and it is really about racism.  Yet, it never feels didactic and it somehow manages to be fun, creepy, and in the same ballpark as films like The Stepford Wives (1975).  You see, Chris, an up-and-coming photographer (played by Daniel Kaluuya) is going to meet his girlfriend’s parents for the first time at their posh country estate.  He’s Black, she’s White – the parents don’t know and he’s (justly) apprehensive.  Writer-Director Jordan Peele captures the awkward moments as the White people bring up everything/everyone they know in Black culture and treat Chris as _the_ representative of his ethnic group (played nearly as satire).  But then it gets weird and weirder.  Peele knows how to manage the tension and Kaluuya is expert at reacting naturally to the bizarre events that unfold (which start with his girlfriend’s mom, played by Catherine Keener, hypnotizing him, purportedly to get him to stop smoking).  Unlike many horror films, the script manages to depict its hero as someone with a brain, who seeks to Get Out when things go from bad to worse. And for all its strangeness, the weird elements get nicely tied together at the end, when the big reveal happens.  (So, you might want to go back and watch it again to see the clues that you might have missed the first time).  In the end, the film turns out to be a fun ride that still manages to raise an alarm, shining a light on a particularly vexed and vexing aspect of American culture that shows no signs of getting better – true horror indeed.    

  

Dunkirk (2017)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Dunkirk (2017) – C. Nolan

I watched Mrs. Miniver (1942) back in July which also features the evacuation of British soldiers from Dunkirk, France, during WWII.  But while the earlier film was a melodramatic piece of wartime propaganda to rally the Allies, Christopher Nolan’s current look back is a visceral “you are there” piece of bravura filmmaking that likely also stokes the patriotic home fires in the Brexit-era UK (or perhaps it is meant to remind them of their bonds with Europe?). No doubt this looked better on the big screen than on the back of the seat in front of me on Qantas Flight 7, but it was still immersive enough. We follow three storylines that intersect at Dunkirk where Allied troops were besieged by the Germans and ultimately evacuated by an armada of private yachts and small boats sailed by civilian volunteers. The storylines are:  1) A couple of nameless soldiers attempt to escape on a first aid vessel (which is promptly sunk) as bombs drop everywhere on the beach; 2) a pair of pilots shoot down enemy bombers, hoping not to run out of fuel; 3) a father and son (and a local boy who joins them) take their small boat to Dunkirk and rescue a shell-shocked airman on the way.  There is very little dialogue, an immense crowd of extras, and a soundtrack that propels everything forward, sounding not unlike the dropping of bombs. I suspect that without the soundtrack, courtesy of Hans Zimmer, this film, like many others, would lose a lot of its impact. That said, the meticulous attention to authentic period detail is truly impressive.  These elements combined make this a film that could (and probably should) be watched again (on a bigger screen).

  

Blade Runner 2049 (2017)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Blade Runner 2049 (2017) – D. Villeneuve

Capturing the feel and appeal of the original 1982 film (or perhaps the later “Final Cut”), this is one sequel that does not disappoint.  Ryan Gosling is suitably cool and affectless as the heir to Harrison Ford’s Deckard (evoking detectives of bygone eras, but notably Delon's hitman in Melville’s Le Samourai, 1967). He is a new version of the replicant, now built by Jared Leto’s Wallace Corporation, a model designed not to lie or to resist orders (supposedly).  His territory is the same desolate Los Angeles that we saw in the earlier film, perhaps a bit more burnt out, but with the same enormous animated neon signs and the logos for alternate reality corporations (such as Atari or the CCCP).  At home, he has his own A. I. girlfriend (Ana de Armas) who has no corporeal form but seems to have an independent consciousness.  As before, the film foregrounds the struggle with identity (are they real or not real?) felt by both Gosling’s “K” (later Joe, but not Josef) and de Armas’ Joi.  K recalls memories but feels that they are only implants -- until a politically charged case starts him questioning.  The plot slowly starts to come together with a few surprising moments of revelation that I won’t spoil but director Denis Villeneuve (and cinematographer Roger Deakins) takes more pleasure in evoking the ethos of Blade Runner slowly and carefully rather than putting flesh on the bare bones plot (co-written by original screenwriter Hampton Fancher, extending Philip K. Dick’s source).  Still, the themes are there for contemplating, if you like.  Seeing this in the theatre, with its massively boosted electronic score and noticeable surround sound effects, likely produced a more visceral impact on me than the home viewer would receive.  The occasional fight sequences, particularly with the chief replicant villain played by Sylvia Hoeks, also break the otherwise moody atmosphere.  In the end, what we have here is a carefully constructed evocation of the earlier film that manages not to screw it up and which uses the latest in filmmaking techniques to add value to the presentation; highly enjoyable, but let’s hope the franchise ends here.

The Butterfly Tree (2017)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

The Butterfly Tree (2017) – P. Cameron

Last night I had the opportunity to attend the world premiere of this new Australian film at the Melbourne International Film Festival.  The film was produced by my good friend Bridget Callow-Wright (with production support from Simon Callow-Wright).  Deceptively complex, the film details the relationships between a son (Ed Oxenbould), his single father (Ewen Leslie), and the woman who bewitches them both (Melissa George).  It would be tempting to provide a Freudian reading of the family dynamic that would suggest that the young boy needs to kill off his father to possess the mother (surrogate) – i.e., the Oedipus Complex.  Those tensions are there but the film adds other themes having to do with loss and transformation – how do we grow and change as people as a result of challenging life events?  Can we achieve mutual understanding? But all this makes the film sound sombre, which it assuredly is not. Instead, there is a captivating and surreal sense of magical realism at play here, with director Priscilla Cameron inserting hallucinatory and sometimes comic sequences straight into the flow of the narrative.  The look of the film (shot in tropical Queensland) is lush with over-saturated colours; I didn’t realize it was set in the early 1990s until someone mentioned this afterward (I guess the absence of computers and smartphones was the giveaway).  The plot sees Oxenbould and Leslie stumble into George’s flower shop, entranced by her open friendly manner (and her sexy burlesque roller-skating background).  How they resolve their competition, overcome their own complications (romantic and maternal), and end up in (presumed) harmony – post transformation – is the journey we’re on.   And like all of life’s journeys, this one is unpredictable and worth taking. I hope you get a chance to see it.