The Last Station (15)
The life of Leo Tolstoy, post completion of his major literary works (War and Peace, Anna Karenina) seems, at first sight, a rather odd choice of subject matter. The film, set in early 20th century Russia, revolves around Tolstoy's (Christopher Plummer's) struggle to reconcile his passionate love for his materialistic wife Sofya (Helen Mirren), with his own Utopian vision of society; a radical, idealistic vision of society insisting that true freedom and wealth are incompatible allies.
James McAvoy , himself a philosophical ingénue, is engaged into the household as Tolstoy’s personal secretary, Valentin. Initially overwhelmed by the great man’s reputation, he is at first an impartial observer. Gradually however, he is unwittingly drawn into an increasingly emotional and volatile struggle for Tolstoy’s affections. On the one hand is Chertkov, (Paul Giamatti) Tolstoy's leading disciple, merciless in his absolute conviction that Tolstoy's legacy, upon his death, should pass unconditionally to the Russian people; on the other, Sofya; relentlessly questioning the purity of Chertkov's motives (and those of Tolstoy's sycophantic followers) and quite naturally concerned for the future of their 13 children.
However, any nagging doubts over the storyline are quickly dispelled by some stunning individual performances. Mirren, the new doyenne of British cinema is truly outstanding moving seamlessly from sensitive, sensual wife to demented protector of her children's inheritance. Plummer, perhaps his finest role, captures Tolstoy's inner turmoil almost perfectly. McAvoy, increasingly impressive with each new role, mirrors Tolstoy's ultimately destructive, philosophical conflict reluctantly shedding his idealistic innocence. Giamatti's Chertkov is powerfully restrained although his extreme antipathy towards Sofya is under-explored and consequently unconvincing. However, Chertkov remained true to his "tolstoyan" philosophy until his death in 1936, testimony indeed to the sincerity of his motivation.
Michael Hoffman (perhaps best known for having given Hugh Grant his first break in the movie, "Privileged"), cleverly adapts Jay Parini’s 1990 novel of the same name, producing and directing with quiet confidence, wonderfully portraying the sense of time and place and avoiding the pitfalls of “costume dramas”.
Christopher Plummer and Helen Mirren temporarily reconciled, from “The Last Station”.
photogallery.filmofilia.com/data/media/209/th..
The film ultimately disappoints however, trundling towards an inevitable and rather predictable denouement with Tolstoy himself becoming the not-entirely-innocent victim of his own conflict. The closing scenes are a little heavy- handed and at 113 minutes, the film is 10-15 minutes too long. And power. Slightly more insight into the genius of the man and his writing would have given the story more context, weight and power.
Verdict
Hoffman should nevertheless take pride in his creation. The performances more than make up for a slightly lightweight storyline. 7/10.
Dick Morgan
February 2010
Thursday, 22 April 2010
Green Zone (R), 2009
The US film industry has become the public confessional of the US military; on the outside, this mighty, military, machine marches inexorably on from continent to continent; on the inside, all is fear, anxiety and doubt. Green Zone is the latest in a line of public catharsis’s ranging from Rambo to Black Hawk Down.
The film is set in and around the “Green Zone” , the colloquial name for the International Zone, a 12 square kilometre area of land in central Baghdad which housed the Coalition Partners during the 2003 invasion of Iraq.
Matt Damon plays Roy Miller, a US Army Officer who leads a team of soldiers charged with finding weapons of mass destruction during the 2003 invasion of Iraq but who begins to question the intelligence sources after successive searches prove worthless. Damon expresses his misgivings to Martin Brown (played by Brendan Gleeson), a hard-bitten, CIA intelligence Director, who, fortuitously, happens to share Damon’s suspicions. During a routine patrol, Damon’s unit happens across a “source” who, equally fortuitously, leads them to Al Rawi, a high- ranking, Iraqi general, played by Igal Naor, formerly of Saddam’s Imperial Guard. Brown convinces Damon that Al Rawi’s presence in any future Iraqi government is critical if civil war is to be avoided.
The rest of the movie is spent trying to locate - some of the technical gadgetry is marvellous - the exact whereabouts of Al-Rawi – despite the rather close (and violent) attentions of Clark Poundstone ,( Greg Kinnear, maturing with age, is perfectly cast), the local Head of Pentagon Special Intelligence, but who wants nothing to do with Al Rawi.
The sense of place is beautifully portrayed- particularly the damaged Iraqi civil and military infrastructure and, even more powerfully, the complete disruption of normal life - from a complete lack of basic facilities to total chaos on the roads. In one particular scene, a lynching is only just avoided as Damon’s small convoy of vehicles is brought to a halt by a snarling, resentful mass of locals, desperate to find water for their families.
But overall, the film disappoints from a number of perspectives. It fails to explore the political complexities- Al Rawi is the only political leader we meet and even then his intentions are not fully explained. The military perspective is primitive and one dimensional; Damon goes rogue, working directly for Brown but is left entirely unpunished and Poundstone seems to have the full use of a death squad at his personal command.
But above all, the characters themselves simply fail to convince. Hindered by a lack of muscular dialogue and undermined by overly long scenes of hand held camerawork, almost to the point of nausea , the characters are without depth from the over-stereotypical Poundstone and Brown, to Lawrie Dayne (a brief cameo from Amy Ryan), an experienced Wall St Journal reporter, who, apparently, fails to check sources. Damon himself does his best with limited material but, like a good wine he has matured and is ready for and worthy of, more. Daniel Craig must surely be in his sights.
Verdict
Overall then, the Green Zone, based on a non fictional account of life in Bagdad written by Rajiv Chandrasekaran, and adapted for screen in 2007 by Director, Paul Greengrass, disappoints, surprisingly perhaps since the Greengrass / Bourne combination gave us the Bourne Ultimatum.
The American obsession with detailed post mortems on military interventions rolls on; 1978 gave us the “The Deer Hunter” ; 1979 Apocalypse Now “and 1998, “Saving Private Ryan”. Green Zone however, is not destined for such illustrious company.
Did not live up to expectations. 3/10
Dick Morgan
March 20 2010
The US film industry has become the public confessional of the US military; on the outside, this mighty, military, machine marches inexorably on from continent to continent; on the inside, all is fear, anxiety and doubt. Green Zone is the latest in a line of public catharsis’s ranging from Rambo to Black Hawk Down.
The film is set in and around the “Green Zone” , the colloquial name for the International Zone, a 12 square kilometre area of land in central Baghdad which housed the Coalition Partners during the 2003 invasion of Iraq.
Matt Damon plays Roy Miller, a US Army Officer who leads a team of soldiers charged with finding weapons of mass destruction during the 2003 invasion of Iraq but who begins to question the intelligence sources after successive searches prove worthless. Damon expresses his misgivings to Martin Brown (played by Brendan Gleeson), a hard-bitten, CIA intelligence Director, who, fortuitously, happens to share Damon’s suspicions. During a routine patrol, Damon’s unit happens across a “source” who, equally fortuitously, leads them to Al Rawi, a high- ranking, Iraqi general, played by Igal Naor, formerly of Saddam’s Imperial Guard. Brown convinces Damon that Al Rawi’s presence in any future Iraqi government is critical if civil war is to be avoided.
The rest of the movie is spent trying to locate - some of the technical gadgetry is marvellous - the exact whereabouts of Al-Rawi – despite the rather close (and violent) attentions of Clark Poundstone ,( Greg Kinnear, maturing with age, is perfectly cast), the local Head of Pentagon Special Intelligence, but who wants nothing to do with Al Rawi.
The sense of place is beautifully portrayed- particularly the damaged Iraqi civil and military infrastructure and, even more powerfully, the complete disruption of normal life - from a complete lack of basic facilities to total chaos on the roads. In one particular scene, a lynching is only just avoided as Damon’s small convoy of vehicles is brought to a halt by a snarling, resentful mass of locals, desperate to find water for their families.
But overall, the film disappoints from a number of perspectives. It fails to explore the political complexities- Al Rawi is the only political leader we meet and even then his intentions are not fully explained. The military perspective is primitive and one dimensional; Damon goes rogue, working directly for Brown but is left entirely unpunished and Poundstone seems to have the full use of a death squad at his personal command.
But above all, the characters themselves simply fail to convince. Hindered by a lack of muscular dialogue and undermined by overly long scenes of hand held camerawork, almost to the point of nausea , the characters are without depth from the over-stereotypical Poundstone and Brown, to Lawrie Dayne (a brief cameo from Amy Ryan), an experienced Wall St Journal reporter, who, apparently, fails to check sources. Damon himself does his best with limited material but, like a good wine he has matured and is ready for and worthy of, more. Daniel Craig must surely be in his sights.
Verdict
Overall then, the Green Zone, based on a non fictional account of life in Bagdad written by Rajiv Chandrasekaran, and adapted for screen in 2007 by Director, Paul Greengrass, disappoints, surprisingly perhaps since the Greengrass / Bourne combination gave us the Bourne Ultimatum.
The American obsession with detailed post mortems on military interventions rolls on; 1978 gave us the “The Deer Hunter” ; 1979 Apocalypse Now “and 1998, “Saving Private Ryan”. Green Zone however, is not destined for such illustrious company.
Did not live up to expectations. 3/10
Dick Morgan
March 20 2010
Crazy Heart (15), 2009
“Born to be Bad”
What a fickle bunch cinema-goers are. Jeff Bridges finally wins an Oscar for Best Actor after 5 Academy Award nominations, and yet the queues outside Greenwich Picture House last Wednesday evening were for Alice in Wonderland, with Johnny Depp. When the “Sold Out” sign finally went up, the crowd, still huge, left for the pub leaving Bridges to play to a half empty auditorium. Well, I hope they enjoyed their drinks.
Bridges turns in an astonishing performance, career -defining by any standards. He simply “is” “Bad Blake” from his nicotine-stained, chain smoking, guitar-plucking, fingertips to his unshaven, sunken eyed, whisky ridden, complexion. He wears his, albeit waning, celebrity status as naturally as his jeans, the stage his own, captivating his audience by a total lack of self awareness. Even the vocals (his own voice) seem to flow effortlessly, his gravelly tones radiating confidence. Bridges was surely born to be Bad.
The movie revolves around the spiralling decline of a 57 year old alcoholic country and western singer, Otis “Bad Blake played by Bridges. Blake, singing and writing career in ruins, travels across America from one sleazy venue to the next staying in increasingly cheap motels. After reaching his nadir with a gig in a small town bowling alley, he agrees to be interviewed by an aspiring reporter, Jean Craddock, played by Maggie Gyllenhaall, a 30 year old divorcee with a 4 year- old son.
Lifestyle and age difference notwithstanding, they begin a relationship, tender and touching with both protagonists doing their best to bridge the age gap. As with all Greek tragedies, the danger signs are there but Bridges, moving from one alcoholic stupor to another, fails to notice them, ultimately losing Craddock’s son, if only temporarily, in a shopping mall.
Their subsequent separation is the turning point for Bad; encouraged and supported by his friend, Wayne Kramer, (played by Robert Duval – cameo roles fast becoming his speciality), he goes into rehabilitation and comes out, rather too quickly, a changed man, inspired to start writing music again for his former protégé, Tommy Sweet (another nice cameo – this time from Colin Farrell). But throughout there is Bridges, ever-present and elevating the film beyond its conventional frame of reference, shining so brightly that even Gyllenhaall pales into insignificance.
Verdict
The film is based on the 1987 novel of the same name by Thomas Cobb and adapted for screen by Director, Scott Cooper who has the intelligence to let Bridges simply get on with it. At 112 minutes the film is 10-15 minutes too long as too often the case nowadays, but while watching Bridges, you don’t seem to notice. 8/10.
Dick Morgan
March 2010
“Born to be Bad”
What a fickle bunch cinema-goers are. Jeff Bridges finally wins an Oscar for Best Actor after 5 Academy Award nominations, and yet the queues outside Greenwich Picture House last Wednesday evening were for Alice in Wonderland, with Johnny Depp. When the “Sold Out” sign finally went up, the crowd, still huge, left for the pub leaving Bridges to play to a half empty auditorium. Well, I hope they enjoyed their drinks.
Bridges turns in an astonishing performance, career -defining by any standards. He simply “is” “Bad Blake” from his nicotine-stained, chain smoking, guitar-plucking, fingertips to his unshaven, sunken eyed, whisky ridden, complexion. He wears his, albeit waning, celebrity status as naturally as his jeans, the stage his own, captivating his audience by a total lack of self awareness. Even the vocals (his own voice) seem to flow effortlessly, his gravelly tones radiating confidence. Bridges was surely born to be Bad.
The movie revolves around the spiralling decline of a 57 year old alcoholic country and western singer, Otis “Bad Blake played by Bridges. Blake, singing and writing career in ruins, travels across America from one sleazy venue to the next staying in increasingly cheap motels. After reaching his nadir with a gig in a small town bowling alley, he agrees to be interviewed by an aspiring reporter, Jean Craddock, played by Maggie Gyllenhaall, a 30 year old divorcee with a 4 year- old son.
Lifestyle and age difference notwithstanding, they begin a relationship, tender and touching with both protagonists doing their best to bridge the age gap. As with all Greek tragedies, the danger signs are there but Bridges, moving from one alcoholic stupor to another, fails to notice them, ultimately losing Craddock’s son, if only temporarily, in a shopping mall.
Their subsequent separation is the turning point for Bad; encouraged and supported by his friend, Wayne Kramer, (played by Robert Duval – cameo roles fast becoming his speciality), he goes into rehabilitation and comes out, rather too quickly, a changed man, inspired to start writing music again for his former protégé, Tommy Sweet (another nice cameo – this time from Colin Farrell). But throughout there is Bridges, ever-present and elevating the film beyond its conventional frame of reference, shining so brightly that even Gyllenhaall pales into insignificance.
Verdict
The film is based on the 1987 novel of the same name by Thomas Cobb and adapted for screen by Director, Scott Cooper who has the intelligence to let Bridges simply get on with it. At 112 minutes the film is 10-15 minutes too long as too often the case nowadays, but while watching Bridges, you don’t seem to notice. 8/10.
Dick Morgan
March 2010
Clash of the Titans 3D (12A) 2010
The Titans fall flat
Clash of the Titans is a 118 minute action movie and on paper, a sure-fire success. It boasts a powerful cast, with Liam Neeson, Ralph Fiennes and Sam Worthington; an exciting story based on Greek mythology’s legend of Perseus and his arduous quest to slay the multi-serpent-headed Medusa; and lastly, today’s key ingredient; it is shot in 3D. Yet the overriding sensation is one of disappointment; in the dialogue, in the characterisation and even in the action sequences.
The story is simple enough. Angered by the arrogance and impudence of mankind, his own creation, Zeus (a heavily bearded Neeson) reluctantly allows his brother Hades (an even more hirsute Fiennes), God of the Underworld, to exact a terrible revenge and to show mankind his true place in the universe. Hades chooses the Kraken, a monster of mythical proportions, as his instrument of death and destruction on the people of the City of Argon. Perseus must first find, slay and then bring back the head of the notorious Medusa, a single glance from whom, they are told, will turn the onlooker to stone.
Perseus, guided by Io (played by Gemma Arterton), his forever young protector, sets off on a perilous journey into the Underworld in search of the Medusa with a small band of soldiers led by Draco (Mads Mikkesen). Confronted by giant scorpions, flying harpies and a trio of blind witches who together share one eye, the special effects are, at times marvellous to watch. The clash with the Medusa, deep in the Underworld is, in particular, spectacularly enhanced by the 3D technology. But sadly, the action sequences are all too often let down by the camerawork; the scenes race by at breakneck speed and instead of carefully managed confusion, we have anarchy.
Let down by the action, we look to the characters for salvation, but here too we are left wanting. The characterisation is poor, the characters paper-thin and underdeveloped, used only as transitions to the next action scene. Worthington, expressionless throughout, is rugged and handsome but seemingly unable to infuse his character with life, personality or feeling and we are left looking at an empty shell. Neeson and Fiennes are both under-used, their dialogue (surprisingly) kept to a minimum. Arterton and Nichloas Hoult (the young boy from “A Single Man”) are both competent but of the minor characters, only Draco really convinces.
Verdict
Overall and despite the potentially powerful ingredients, Clash of the Titans disappoints. Quite whether Warner Brothers will agree to Director Louis Leterrier’s request for a trilogy of Titan films remains to be seen. Wait for the DVD, if you must. 4/10.
Dick Morgan,
April 2010
The Titans fall flat
Clash of the Titans is a 118 minute action movie and on paper, a sure-fire success. It boasts a powerful cast, with Liam Neeson, Ralph Fiennes and Sam Worthington; an exciting story based on Greek mythology’s legend of Perseus and his arduous quest to slay the multi-serpent-headed Medusa; and lastly, today’s key ingredient; it is shot in 3D. Yet the overriding sensation is one of disappointment; in the dialogue, in the characterisation and even in the action sequences.
The story is simple enough. Angered by the arrogance and impudence of mankind, his own creation, Zeus (a heavily bearded Neeson) reluctantly allows his brother Hades (an even more hirsute Fiennes), God of the Underworld, to exact a terrible revenge and to show mankind his true place in the universe. Hades chooses the Kraken, a monster of mythical proportions, as his instrument of death and destruction on the people of the City of Argon. Perseus must first find, slay and then bring back the head of the notorious Medusa, a single glance from whom, they are told, will turn the onlooker to stone.
Perseus, guided by Io (played by Gemma Arterton), his forever young protector, sets off on a perilous journey into the Underworld in search of the Medusa with a small band of soldiers led by Draco (Mads Mikkesen). Confronted by giant scorpions, flying harpies and a trio of blind witches who together share one eye, the special effects are, at times marvellous to watch. The clash with the Medusa, deep in the Underworld is, in particular, spectacularly enhanced by the 3D technology. But sadly, the action sequences are all too often let down by the camerawork; the scenes race by at breakneck speed and instead of carefully managed confusion, we have anarchy.
Let down by the action, we look to the characters for salvation, but here too we are left wanting. The characterisation is poor, the characters paper-thin and underdeveloped, used only as transitions to the next action scene. Worthington, expressionless throughout, is rugged and handsome but seemingly unable to infuse his character with life, personality or feeling and we are left looking at an empty shell. Neeson and Fiennes are both under-used, their dialogue (surprisingly) kept to a minimum. Arterton and Nichloas Hoult (the young boy from “A Single Man”) are both competent but of the minor characters, only Draco really convinces.
Verdict
Overall and despite the potentially powerful ingredients, Clash of the Titans disappoints. Quite whether Warner Brothers will agree to Director Louis Leterrier’s request for a trilogy of Titan films remains to be seen. Wait for the DVD, if you must. 4/10.
Dick Morgan,
April 2010
The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo (18), 2009
“Tattoo? What tattoo!”
I barely noticed the dragon tattoo let alone the usually distracting, subtitles. This two and a half hour, Swedish whodunit, simply flies by and is hugely enjoyable. The film is based on the first of a trilogy of best-selling books by the Swedish author, Stieg Larsson, who tragically died with the books left unpublished – all three are now international bestsellers (and wonderfully well translated) – and the films – the sequels will surely follow – not yet made.
The film, which, for once, sticks closely to the book, is an intelligent, well constructed thriller. A retired, Swedish industrialist, Henrik Vanger (immaculately played by Sven-Bertil Taube), decides, to hire an investigative journalist, Mikael Blomqvist, (Michael Nyqvist) in a last ditch attempt to find his niece, Harriet, missing for over 40 years.
Initially reluctant, Blomqvist relocates to Vanger’s vast, rural family estate to plough through endless documents and photographs. Frustrated by a lack of progress and on the point of resigning, he receives help from an unexpected source; a resourceful and intelligent computer hacker, Lisbeth Salander (Noomi Rapace), herself troubled by an unexplained, but obviously traumatic, past.
The two combine beautifully, working in harmony and complimenting each other notwithstanding differences in age, social background and emotional and psychological stability. Nyqvist is relaxed and at ease with himself, Rapace, nervous and troubled. A modern day rebel, she pushes us away from her multiple body-piercings and tattoos (the significance of which is strangely left unexplained) to her emotional distance and sadistic acts of revenge. Yet, even as she pushes us away, she somehow pulls us in; down and into the turmoil of her soul - the true mystery of the film - through endlessly brown eyes. Watch out for this newcomer – this is a star in the making.
Verdict
Danish Director, Niels Arden Oplev, proves more than capable of managing this complex web of ideas; from racism and dysfunctional family life to and misogyny – the original title was, perhaps more appropriately, “The man who hated women”. The production is slick and the camerawork excellent. Rural Sweden is beautifully portrayed, especially the winter scenes. But make no mistake; this is a tough, no nonsense, murder mystery which intends and manages, to shock. Nevertheless, don’t miss it, or the sequels. 9/10.
Richard Morgan,
March 2010
“Tattoo? What tattoo!”
I barely noticed the dragon tattoo let alone the usually distracting, subtitles. This two and a half hour, Swedish whodunit, simply flies by and is hugely enjoyable. The film is based on the first of a trilogy of best-selling books by the Swedish author, Stieg Larsson, who tragically died with the books left unpublished – all three are now international bestsellers (and wonderfully well translated) – and the films – the sequels will surely follow – not yet made.
The film, which, for once, sticks closely to the book, is an intelligent, well constructed thriller. A retired, Swedish industrialist, Henrik Vanger (immaculately played by Sven-Bertil Taube), decides, to hire an investigative journalist, Mikael Blomqvist, (Michael Nyqvist) in a last ditch attempt to find his niece, Harriet, missing for over 40 years.
Initially reluctant, Blomqvist relocates to Vanger’s vast, rural family estate to plough through endless documents and photographs. Frustrated by a lack of progress and on the point of resigning, he receives help from an unexpected source; a resourceful and intelligent computer hacker, Lisbeth Salander (Noomi Rapace), herself troubled by an unexplained, but obviously traumatic, past.
The two combine beautifully, working in harmony and complimenting each other notwithstanding differences in age, social background and emotional and psychological stability. Nyqvist is relaxed and at ease with himself, Rapace, nervous and troubled. A modern day rebel, she pushes us away from her multiple body-piercings and tattoos (the significance of which is strangely left unexplained) to her emotional distance and sadistic acts of revenge. Yet, even as she pushes us away, she somehow pulls us in; down and into the turmoil of her soul - the true mystery of the film - through endlessly brown eyes. Watch out for this newcomer – this is a star in the making.
Verdict
Danish Director, Niels Arden Oplev, proves more than capable of managing this complex web of ideas; from racism and dysfunctional family life to and misogyny – the original title was, perhaps more appropriately, “The man who hated women”. The production is slick and the camerawork excellent. Rural Sweden is beautifully portrayed, especially the winter scenes. But make no mistake; this is a tough, no nonsense, murder mystery which intends and manages, to shock. Nevertheless, don’t miss it, or the sequels. 9/10.
Richard Morgan,
March 2010
The Ghost (15), 2010 (128 minutes)
McGregor lifts the spirits
The Ghost-writer or Ghost as it is known in the UK is a mildly political thriller based on the book of the same name by Robert Harris written in 2007. Starring Ewan McGregor as the Ghost (we are never told his real name) and Pierce Brosnan as former British Prime Minister, Adam Lang, the action is set in a remote, coastal location somewhere on the eastern US seaboard.
McGregor, encouraged by his agent and a lucrative fee, reluctantly agrees to polish and complete Lang's memoirs. No sooner have they begun than Lang and his assistant, Amelia Bly (Kim Cattrall) fly to Washington to clear his name against allegations of war-crimes – principally that he agreed, while Prime Minister, to pass terrorist suspects to the CIA in the knowledge that they would be tortured.
McGregor, left alone in the house with only Lang's wife Ruth (Olivia Williams) for company continues work on the draft but makes a series of troubling discoveries – including the fact that his predecessor was found dead in mysterious circumstances. Ghost starts investigating slowly putting the pieces together but is soon out of his depth drawn into a web of lies, deceit and ruthlessness. Distraught and alone, he reaches out... to one of Lang’s former colleagues
McGregor is convincing, playing the innocent hack with assurance and ease in spite of the not-entirely-convincing cockney accent. Brosnan, for once, disappoints, failing to make the role his own and outshone by his junior partner. Cattrall, despite acknowledging the restrictions of the role itself is rather wooden and stilted but the real surprise is Williams, equally convincing whether tense, nervous or seductive.
Director Roman Polanski, who co-wrote the screenplay with Harris, significantly underplays the political parallels (with Tony Blair) of the book, preferring instead to develop suspense, tension and atmosphere; the remoteness of the isolated beach house; the cold, dark wintry skies; characters who exchange knowing glances not always what they seem; and finally the current ghost's predecessor back from the dead via, of all things, a satellite navigation device.
Verdict
Despite its length (128 minutes) and a not entirely convincing denouement reworked by the screenwriters, Ghost keeps your attention. Enjoyable, if unmemorable, escapism. 6/10.
Dick Morgan
April 2010
Pierce Brosnan and Ewan McGregor confront one another in “The Ghost Writer”
McGregor lifts the spirits
The Ghost-writer or Ghost as it is known in the UK is a mildly political thriller based on the book of the same name by Robert Harris written in 2007. Starring Ewan McGregor as the Ghost (we are never told his real name) and Pierce Brosnan as former British Prime Minister, Adam Lang, the action is set in a remote, coastal location somewhere on the eastern US seaboard.
McGregor, encouraged by his agent and a lucrative fee, reluctantly agrees to polish and complete Lang's memoirs. No sooner have they begun than Lang and his assistant, Amelia Bly (Kim Cattrall) fly to Washington to clear his name against allegations of war-crimes – principally that he agreed, while Prime Minister, to pass terrorist suspects to the CIA in the knowledge that they would be tortured.
McGregor, left alone in the house with only Lang's wife Ruth (Olivia Williams) for company continues work on the draft but makes a series of troubling discoveries – including the fact that his predecessor was found dead in mysterious circumstances. Ghost starts investigating slowly putting the pieces together but is soon out of his depth drawn into a web of lies, deceit and ruthlessness. Distraught and alone, he reaches out... to one of Lang’s former colleagues
McGregor is convincing, playing the innocent hack with assurance and ease in spite of the not-entirely-convincing cockney accent. Brosnan, for once, disappoints, failing to make the role his own and outshone by his junior partner. Cattrall, despite acknowledging the restrictions of the role itself is rather wooden and stilted but the real surprise is Williams, equally convincing whether tense, nervous or seductive.
Director Roman Polanski, who co-wrote the screenplay with Harris, significantly underplays the political parallels (with Tony Blair) of the book, preferring instead to develop suspense, tension and atmosphere; the remoteness of the isolated beach house; the cold, dark wintry skies; characters who exchange knowing glances not always what they seem; and finally the current ghost's predecessor back from the dead via, of all things, a satellite navigation device.
Verdict
Despite its length (128 minutes) and a not entirely convincing denouement reworked by the screenwriters, Ghost keeps your attention. Enjoyable, if unmemorable, escapism. 6/10.
Dick Morgan
April 2010
Pierce Brosnan and Ewan McGregor confront one another in “The Ghost Writer”
Friday, 9 April 2010
Nanny McPhee 2
Nanny McPhee and the Big Bang (U), 2010
Pigs Can Fly!!
“Five out of 10 – it was too cheesy “said my 10 year old daughter. Only five people saw this disjointed and totally contrived sequel to the rather good, first Nanny McPhee, but they would probably agree. Sequels are rarely a good idea and this is no exception.
The plot, such as it is, centres on Mrs Green (Maggie Gyllenhaal) whose delicately balanced life managing three young children, a full time job in the local grocery shop and a farm (her husband –a brief cameo from Ewan McGregor - is away at war) is tipped into chaos and confusion by the arrival of her sister’s two, spoilt, children, down from London to avoid the bombs. Enter Nanny McPhee (Emma Thompson) uninvited but entirely welcome, to bring order to the household with her simple philosophy of discipline, kindness and of course, magic.
At one level, the movie entertains with its visually-pleasing combinations of acrobatic and synchronised- swimming piglets, house-trained baby elephants and motorbikes which take mysteriously to the skies. However, less successful, are the unexploded bombs, (constantly) burping crows and bumbling uncle forever scheming to raise money.
The characters fail to develop or solicit empathy of any sort from the children themselves - different from the original film - to Nanny McPhee whose role is sadly reduced to little more than banging her magic stick and occasionally raising an eyebrow a la Roger Moore. The acting is, nevertheless, partly redeemed by a trio of cameos; Maggie Smith as the forgetful and confused Mrs Doherty, either buried in flour or pouring treacle into wooden draws; piglet purchaser, Bill Bailey as the somewhat eccentric Farmer MacReadie; and lastly, an outstanding Ralph Fiennes as Lord Gray, Army Chief of Staff, struggling to keep his emotions in check as his young son appeals to his father’s hitherto absent, humanity.
Successful, family films tend to fall into two broad categories; warm, tender but well constructed, feel-good movies like Racing Stripes and Beethoven or, imaginative, intelligent tales that manage to work on two levels; a storyline for children and a social commentary for adults like Toy Story (1 and 2) and Finding Nemo . Nanny McPhee ended up in neither and it shows.
Verdict
Critical acclaim has been positive from the News of the World to the Independent but this critic would beg to differ; the storyline is thin – an inauspicious debut from writer, Emma Thompson - , the characterisation under-developed and the acting, for the most part, modest at best. Under-7s will enjoy but for adults, the pigs just don’t fly. 4/10.
Dick Morgan,
March 2010
Pigs Can Fly!!
“Five out of 10 – it was too cheesy “said my 10 year old daughter. Only five people saw this disjointed and totally contrived sequel to the rather good, first Nanny McPhee, but they would probably agree. Sequels are rarely a good idea and this is no exception.
The plot, such as it is, centres on Mrs Green (Maggie Gyllenhaal) whose delicately balanced life managing three young children, a full time job in the local grocery shop and a farm (her husband –a brief cameo from Ewan McGregor - is away at war) is tipped into chaos and confusion by the arrival of her sister’s two, spoilt, children, down from London to avoid the bombs. Enter Nanny McPhee (Emma Thompson) uninvited but entirely welcome, to bring order to the household with her simple philosophy of discipline, kindness and of course, magic.
At one level, the movie entertains with its visually-pleasing combinations of acrobatic and synchronised- swimming piglets, house-trained baby elephants and motorbikes which take mysteriously to the skies. However, less successful, are the unexploded bombs, (constantly) burping crows and bumbling uncle forever scheming to raise money.
The characters fail to develop or solicit empathy of any sort from the children themselves - different from the original film - to Nanny McPhee whose role is sadly reduced to little more than banging her magic stick and occasionally raising an eyebrow a la Roger Moore. The acting is, nevertheless, partly redeemed by a trio of cameos; Maggie Smith as the forgetful and confused Mrs Doherty, either buried in flour or pouring treacle into wooden draws; piglet purchaser, Bill Bailey as the somewhat eccentric Farmer MacReadie; and lastly, an outstanding Ralph Fiennes as Lord Gray, Army Chief of Staff, struggling to keep his emotions in check as his young son appeals to his father’s hitherto absent, humanity.
Successful, family films tend to fall into two broad categories; warm, tender but well constructed, feel-good movies like Racing Stripes and Beethoven or, imaginative, intelligent tales that manage to work on two levels; a storyline for children and a social commentary for adults like Toy Story (1 and 2) and Finding Nemo . Nanny McPhee ended up in neither and it shows.
Verdict
Critical acclaim has been positive from the News of the World to the Independent but this critic would beg to differ; the storyline is thin – an inauspicious debut from writer, Emma Thompson - , the characterisation under-developed and the acting, for the most part, modest at best. Under-7s will enjoy but for adults, the pigs just don’t fly. 4/10.
Dick Morgan,
March 2010
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
