In Contention

Author: Guy Lodge

  • SHORT TAKE: “Nowhere Boy” (**1/2)

    Nowhere BoyLondon Film Festival

    A bright, slight, mostly enjoyable portrait of the formative years of John Lennon, artist-turned-filmmaker Sam Taylor-Wood’s “Nowhere Boy” opens with a nudge-nudge tease, as the singular opening chord of “A Hard Day’s Night” reverberates through the theater over a shot of the 18 year-old Lennon running to school.

    That single-second strum, however, is all we get of the ubiquitous Beatles songbook, as Taylor-Wood and screenwriter Matt Greenhalgh (“Control”) go out of their way to distance their story from Fab Four iconography, even coyly dancing around any mention of the “B” word. “What do you call yourselves now?” Lennon’s weary Aunt Mimi (Kristin Scott Thomas) asks her nephew over breakfast, after he announces the band’s plans to travel to Hamburg. “Do you care?” is his tart reply.

    Even if this is a little too cute, it’s cause for commendation that the film largely avoids the contrived “inspiration” cues that usually plague the musical-biopic genre. A fleeting glimpse of the original Strawberry Fields house in Liverpool is about as on-the-nose as things get; we’re spared the mandatory montages of the artist scribbling lyrics in a battered notebook, and even the Beatles cuts performed towards the film’s end are authentic fledgling efforts. (Over-familiar 1950s rock n’ roll standards comprise the bulk of the soundtrack, while Goldfrapp’s incidental score hardly registers.)

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  • ‘Nowhere Boy’ trailer

    Sam Taylor-Wood’s debut feature has its world premiere tonight as it closes out the London Film Festival. I’ll have a short take up for you later today, but for now, here’s the trailer. (I’ll say this much: Kristin Scott Thomas’s recent run of form remains unbroken.)

  • “We’re going to be fine.”

    Michael Stuhlbarg in A Serious ManThose of you who enjoy it when Kris and I butt heads over one film or another — as on the two occasions this past week alone that I’ve been unceremoniously fired — will be disappointed to hear that an entente cordiale has arrived in the shape of “A Serious Man.” (Ironic, really — since when did the Coen Brothers make movies designed to bring people together?)

    Anyway, while I don’t know yet whether my passion for the film will run quite as deep as Kris’s by the year’s end, I have no qualms whatsoever about echoing his sentiments that “A Serious Man” is an extraordinary feat.

    Novelistic in its reach and rhythms, but intrinsically cinematic in the way Roger Deakins’s calmly predatory camera investigates physical and personal space, it seems a direct (if deliciously perverse) rebuttal to claims made by the duo’s detractors that their films are overly hermetic, unwilling to engage with the world around them.

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  • Tweeting for Oscar

    We Live in PublicThe few of you who do follow my Twitter account will have gathered by now that, compared to some, I’m not the most active correspondent in that medium — limiting my thoughts to 140 characters is a trial more often that not. However, should I ever find myself in the hunt for an Oscar (hey, I have dreams too!), I’ll be sure to step up my tweet count.

    You’ve all heard by now about “Moon” director Duncan Jones’s admirably enthusiastic Twitter campaign for Sam Rockwell’s Best Actor chances, which so far has worked a treat.

    No, not because Rockwell isn’t still the darkest of horses for Oscar consideration, but because the quirky nature of the campaign has proved something of a talking point in an otherwise quiet week — generating a fresh wave of viewer interest in a small, long-gone summer release. As nice as this press is for Rockwell, “Moon” is the real winner here.

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  • ‘A Prophet’ wins top prize at London Film Festival

    Tahar Rahim (right) in A ProphetI always knew Anjelica Huston and I were of a like mind. As I reflect on the 60-odd films I’ve seen the London Film Festival, which draws to a close tomorrow, Jacques Audiard’s French Oscar contender “A Prophet” stands comfortably taller than anything else I’ve seen … and given the standard of this year’s LFF lineup, that’s no back-handed compliment.

    Ms. Huston clearly agrees: at a ceremony tonight, together with the other five members of her jury (a rum bunch including Charlotte Rampling, Matthieu Kassovitz and Jarvis Cocker), she handed “A Prophet” the festival’s inaugural Best Film award (alternatively named the Star of London). It triumphed over eight other shortlisted titles, including its Cannes conqueror “The White Ribbon.” Huston said of Audiard’s film:

    A masterpiece: “Un Prophete” has the ambition, purity of vision and clarity of purpose to make it an instant classic.  With seamless and imaginative story-telling, superb performances and universal themes, Jacques Audiard has made a perfect film.”

    “The Road,” interestingly enough, was given a runner-up “special mention” by the jury, despite its continued mixed reception. John Hillcoat’s film was singled out for its “breathtaking vision, extraordinary performances and profound political statement.”

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  • THE LONG SHOT: Mind your language

    (from left) Niels Arestrup and Tahar Rahim in A ProphetYou might not be aware of it, but the competition is already formally under way in Oscar’s most perennially problematic category, Best Foreign Language Film.

    For almost two weeks now, official Academy screenings of the longlisted contenders in the race have been in progress, and will continue through January, until all 65 titles have been subjected to the foreign-language committee’s scrutiny.

    Pete Hammond has details of the screening schedule and voting rules, as well as some gossip on audience reaction to the screenings thus far: Mexico’s “Backyard” and Switzerland’s “Home,” starring Jimmy Smits and Isabelle Huppert respectively, have apparently gone down well; Croatia’s “Donkey,” thanks to incomprehensible subtitles, not so much. Add a pinch of salt to taste.

    Coincidentally enough, courtesy of the London Film Festival, I’ve been simultaneously working my own way down the contenders list, though my personal tally has stalled at eight titles. (It could have been 11, if scheduling and admin obstacles hadn’t kept me away from the Australian, Colombian and Serbian entries. I am but one man.) Only 57 to go, then.

    I will offer a more detailed assessment of the films in another post, but by and large it’s been a pleasure making their acquaintance. Of course, my own selection has been filtered through that of the fest’s generally thoughtful programmers, safeguarding against any real horrors – but I don’t mind saying that an unembarrassing list of nominees could theoretically be assembled from just my scant sampling of the longlist.

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  • LONDON: Not so ‘Precious’

    PreciousAt this early stage in the awards race, I’ve been getting along unusually well with every major contender I’ve encountered: “The Hurt Locker,” “An Education,” “Up in the Air,” along with darker horses like “Bright Star” and “A Single Man,” have all been pleasing, giving me hope that this would be one of those rare Oscar years when I could contentedly roll with any outcome.

    Something had to break, I suppose. And it’s with not a little regret that I write this, but it broke this afternoon as I finally encountered Lee Daniels’s much-vaunted “Precious” for the first time.

    I understand and respect what has moved the critical majority so profoundly about this abrasive, eccentric film. It visits such extremities of physical and psychic pain that it does invite a kind of emotional responsibility towards its protagonist; if Daniels did have as heavy a creative hand in “Monster’s Ball” as he claims, one could draw an interesting comparison between the two films’ almost mythic excesses of female suffering.

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  • ‘Fish Tank,’ ‘Moon,’ ‘Education’ lead BIFA noms, female directors rule

    Katie Jarvis in Fish TankYou’ve heard me natter on enough for months about how “Fish Tank” is one of the year’s best films — now you don’t have to just hear it from me anymore.

    Andrea Arnold’s lyrical character study of an unhappy Essex teenager (now being dubbed ‘the British “Precious”‘ by some lazy wags) leads the nominations for the British Independent Film Awards, with mentions in a whopping eight categories, including two for 18 year-old sensation Katie Jarvis.

    Once a very niche Transatlantic equivalent to the Indie Spirits, the BIFA Awards are gaining in profile every year, painting a far more revealing picture of the state of the UK film industry than the Oscar-toadying BAFTAs.

    They’re also naming more contenders who go on to feature heavily in awards season: “Slumdog Millionaire” was the belle of last year’s BIFA ball, while this year’s major crossover nominee promises to be “An Education.”

    (More discussion, and a full list of nominees, after the cut.)

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  • Fixing the Oscarcast … get your ideas in early

    Meryl Streep at the 81st annual Academy AwardsWith the 2009 Oscar telecast a little over four months away, it may seem a tad premature for the annual round of “how-to-save-the-show” suggestions, but it’s really the best time — now that Adam Shankman and Bill Mechanic have been handed the reins, they’ll be drawing up plans immediately.

    So the LA Times’s Mary McNamara has handily weighed in with her annual list of ideas and pointers for the show’s producers, ranging from the widely agreed-upon (drop the irrelevant musical numbers) to the slightly more idiosyncratic (“Do something with vampires,” she helpfully advises).

    Given that, like McNamara, I wasn’t as big a fan of the last Oscarcast as many were, it follows that I would agree with several of her ideas. I do think film clips have a necessary place in the acting presentations — as strange as it seems to those of us more familiar with the films on an annual basis, a brief, well-chosen clip from a lesser-known title can arouse interest from less informed viewers. (More so than a smarmy verbal tribute from, say, Adrien Brody.)

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  • LONDON: Exploding girls on trains

    Zoe Kazan in The Exploding GirlNot my most successful day at the London Film Festival today, as a communication error kept me out of the fest’s final “Samson and Delilah” screening — vexing partly because it leaves a significant gap in the collective review I had planned to do of multiple foreign Oscar contenders next week, but more simply because it was one of my most anticipated films of the festival. Can’t win ’em all, I suppose.

    Meanwhile, the Surprise Film screening, usually my favorite night of the festival, proved slightly anti-climactic for yours truly as the selection turned out to be Michael Moore’s “Capitalism: A Love Story” — a respectable enough choice on fest director Sandra Hebron’s part, but a film I’d already dug into at Venice. (Meanwhile, it marks the first time in four years that I hadn’t correctly anticipated the ‘surprise.’)

    In keeping with the theme of the day, then, I thought this as good a time as any to briefly round up five of the fest’s more disappointing efforts so far.

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  • LONDON: Another prophet

    Tahar Rahim in A ProphetBack in early September, which feels longer ago than it probably should, regular commenter Chris offered the following (non-Oscar-related) prediction:

    You need to see “A Prophet”, I saw it two days ago, and it’s such an amazing film. I don’t know if this makes any sense, but I’m predicting it to be on Guy Lodge’s top 10 of the year, just so you know what kind of film it is.

    Either I am terribly predictable, or Chris is a very wise man — we’ll flatter us both and say the latter — but after staggering out of this morning’s London Film Festival press screening, I see no way this doesn’t come to pass.

    There will likely be plenty of opportunities to discuss this stunner in the months to come (Kris already offered a brief take from Telluride), but suffice to say that the great Jacques Audiard has exceeded his previous career high-water mark, “The Beat That My Heart Skipped,” with this expansive, brutal, darkly funny and richly compassionate character study.

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  • ‘Precious,’ ‘Fish Tank,’ ‘Vincere’ win big in Chicago

    Michael Fassbender in Fish TankOn the same day that it played to a reportedly warm reception in London, “Precious” continued its impressive streak with the festival-going public by picking up the Audience Award at the Chicago International Film Festival. In case you hadn’t got the idea by now, people really, really like this movie.

    It was another grim study of African-American youth, however, that took the festival’s top juried prize, as Tina Mabry’s autobiographical debut “Mississippi Damned” won Best Film, in addition to Best Screenplay and Best Supporting Actress honors for Jossie Thacker.

    The film, about three children seeking an exit from a familial cycle of poverty and abuse, has received glowing notices across the board, inviting critical comparisons to both “Eve’s Bayou” and “Ballast.”

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  • WEEKLY WRAP: Oscar prods, Gotham nods, ‘Amelia’ clods

    Richard Gere• The Academy finally named the producers for next year’s Oscar telecast, first-timers Adam Shankman and Bill Mechanic.

    • All of which added weight to the speculation that Hugh Jackman might return as host.

    • The Gotham Awards provided the season with its first set of nominees, though it inspired more talk for its omissions.

    • Chief among those omissions: “Precious,” prompting talk of a backlash, despite generous media exposure positioning it as the one to beat.

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  • LONDON: ‘Chloe,’ ‘Leaving’

    Julianne Moore in ChloeI realize I’ve dropped the ball somewhat with my festival updates — between the to-and-fro of festival business, other writing tasks and the occasional impulse to have a personal life, a backlog longer than I care to count has accumulated of films yet to be discussed. Expect that to be partially rectified over a quieter weekend … even if I resort to “100 words or less” games.

    However, once more a pair of films seen in relatively close succession demand to be reviewed together. Atom Egoyan’s “Chloe” and Catherine Corsini’s French-language “Leaving” overlap in a number of ways.

    Both are slickly accessible thrillers revolving around marital infidelity, both use that as cover for a less mainstream investigation of middle-aged female sexuality, and both are anchored by formidable actresses — Julianne Moore and Kristin Scott Thomas, respectively — in full possession of their powers.

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  • The other Max on ‘Wild Things’

    Spike Jonze and Max RecordsMax Records, the 12 year-old actor who, by handy coincidence, plays young Max in “Where the Wild Things Are,” gives pretty good interview. He talks here to the LA Times about the book, the film and his frankly awesome hobby, which consists of the following:

    Me and my friends like to wrap mattress film and duct tape around PVC piping and then make foam weapons out of it that we have big foam battles with.

    Great kid. Back to the film itself, he has a matter-of-fact response to voices from some quarters suggesting that the film is too adult in sensibility:

    It depends on the kid.  There are parts of it that are pretty intense. When I was 7 years old, I could not have seen this movie.  It would’ve scared me.  But my younger brother, who’s now 7, could’ve seen this a year ago.  It depends on the kid.

    Sometimes it takes a 12 year-old to speak common sense. More here.

  • Should Lee Daniels tread more carefully?

    Lee DanielsBased on an unexpected blanking in the Gotham Award nominations, plus the lingering resentment in some quarters over Mo’Nique’s reluctance to play the publicity game, talk has surfaced this week of a “Precious” backlash. I’m not buying it until there’s a larger press reaction to the film upon its release — if it receives further anti-consensus pans along the lines of Ed Gonzalez’s, perhaps.

    Either way, according to Patrick Goldstein, director Lee Daniels isn’t helping matters with some cocky statements that could rub some Academy voters the wrong way. His assertion that “‘Precious’ is so not Obama … so not P.C.,” in the film’s recent NYT spread, strikes me as a harmless bit of bluster, while I’m not sure why anyone but the most conservative bluehairs would be concerned by him describing himself as “a little homo … a little Euro … a little ghetto.”

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  • REVIEW: “The White Ribbon” (***1/2)

    The White RibbonLondon Film Festival

    With apologies to Pete Townshend, the kids are most certainly not alright.

    Such is the message we seem to be gleaning from the cinema of 2009, as a vast range of unrelated titles – “Precious,” “Coraline,” “Dogtooth,” “Antichrist,” “Fish Tank,” even “An Education” – appear united in visiting the physical and/or psychological damage wrought upon children by either obliviously or maliciously neglectful parents, in some cases planting the seeds of trauma for further generations.

    No film this year, however, addresses the matter with more thematic exactitude and near-scientific scrutiny than Michael Haneke’s grimly riveting “The White Ribbon,” a film which differs from the ones previously mentioned by taking an entire community, as opposed to a solitary family, as its allegorical subject. More expansive in its focus than any previous Haneke work, it nonetheless surprises with the intimacy of its gaze and the social responsibility of its treatise.

    Eternally fascinated by human behaviour, yet never a director much associated with the humane – his trademark chilliness reaching new heights (or depths, if you prefer) with last year’s “Funny Games” remake, which treated its papery characters with even more diagrammatic dispassion than the 1997 original – Haneke finally marries these two approaches here, empathizing with its considerable ensemble of characters even as it dissects them.

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  • THE LONG SHOT: What is an “Oscar movie” these days?

    George Clooney in Up in the Air“God, that thing’s just going to shit Academy Awards out of its ass next year, isn’t it?,” I overheard a journo behind me remark to his companion, as I made my way out of the “Up in the Air” press screening on Sunday. “It’s such an Oscar movie.”

    Two things struck me as interesting about this throwaway remark, both relating to the lack of care with which both Oscar pundits and “serious” film lovers tend to regard the Academy Awards.

    The first was that, isolated and in print, the guy’s words appear dismissive of “Up in the Air,” yet they actually capped a mostly enthusiastic response to the film. His tone dipped almost apologetically as he applied the “Oscar movie” label, as if it somehow sullied an otherwise fine effort.

    More to the point, however, the remark seemed indicative of the transitive stage the Academy Awards seem to be in at the moment, as simultaneously resistant and vulnerable to industry change as the protagonist of Jason Reitman’s film – and facing a similar crisis of purpose. For 15 years ago – if not necessarily 15 years before that – “Up in the Air” wouldn’t have been decreed an “Oscar movie” at all.

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