In Contention

Author: Guy Lodge

  • Yorkshire confidential

    I didn’t get a chance to mention it during our recent hiatus, but last Wednesday I saw a film that stands, for me, head and shoulders above any other 2009 release so far — one I can easily imagine still coming into play for my own Best of 2009 honours come December. A heady artistic breakthrough from a filmmaker I had never previously rated, with an immaculate cast of rising talent, it’s truly significant, surprising cinema.

    There’s a catch, however. It’s not showing at a theatre near you — or any other, for that matter. For the film I’m talking about is “Nineteen Seventy-Four,” the first part of Channel 4’s ambitious, much-hyped TV endeavour “Red Riding” — a trilogy of self-standing films chronicling the infamous Yorkshire Ripper murders of the 1970s and early 1980s.

    Deftly adapted by Tony Grisoni (“In This World,” “Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas”) from a quartet of novels by David Peace (a brilliant writer occasionally labelled, not without justification, as the UK’s answer to James Ellroy — he’s also behind the upcoming “Damned United”), the films examine both the social and official levels of corruption stirred by the crimes over an entire decade, but each has its own distinct thematic and cinematic character.

    I was first alerted to the project when interviewing James Marsh last year — the Oscar-winning “Man on Wire” filmmaker helmed “Nineteen Eighty,” the second instalment of the trilogy. Marsh’s contribution is a sober, intelligent piece of  procedural drama, enlivened by a terrific lead turn from Paddy Considine, but it’s really “Nineteen Seventy-Four,” the more oblique, mood-driven piece, that has stuck with me these past two weeks.

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  • “A profession of love for cinema”

    That’s how Pedro Almodovar describes “Broken Embraces,” which is now mere days from opening in Spain. Reviews should arrive soon enough, but for now, this rather thin article offers the following tidbit:

    With hints of thriller-style cinema thrown in, Almodovar’s film alludes to his own earlier movies those of directors he admires, such as Roberto Rossellini.

    “It is a romantic movie, with intertwined stories of love. But underlying them all is my love for cinema,” Almodovar said Friday after a press screening.

    A Reuters piece extends the vague noir comparisons, likening Rodrigo Prieto’s cinematography to that of 1940’s Hollywood thrillers — one scene, in particular, apparently evokes “Kiss of Death,” which is good enough for me. (Am I the only one totally psyched about the teaming with Prieto?)

    All well and good, but I’m puzzled by such writers describing this as some kind of major departure for the auteur: what were “Bad Education” and “Live Flesh” (which was, after all, a Ruth Rendell adaptation) if not jet-black thrillers?

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  • Wright returns to Britain

    We have yet to see how Joe Wright’s first foray into contemporary American cinema turned out, though the demotion of “The Soloist” from prime 2008 awards-bait to quiet 2009 spring release has had the sceptics whispering for some time now.

    Perhaps unsurprisingly, then, Wright’s next project will find the “Atonement” helmer in the more familiar territory of the British period drama: “Indian Summer” will chronicle the last days of British colonial rule in India in the 1940s, following the handover of power from Viceroy of India, Lord Mountbatten, to new Indian PM Jawaharlal Nehru. (Some sources, meanwhile, suggest that the focus of the film will be a rumoured affair between Nehru and Mountbatten’s wife Edwina.)

    Besides Wright, more notable names are falling into place: as the fourth collaboration between Wright and Working Title, Tim Bevan and Eric Fellner are naturally on board as producers, while William Nicholson (“Shadowland,” “Gladiator”) is taking script duties. The Guardian reports “speculation” that Cate Blanchett and Hugh Grant are in line to star, which I’d take with a pinch of salt — though it’s plausible enough casting.

    As a fan of the widely misrepresented “Atonement” (it was a far smaller, stranger film than the romantic epic it was sold as), I’m on board for this. It’s not going to do much to clear the “next Anthony Minghella” buzz that has been circling around Wright for a few years now (misplaced talk at best, not least because he isn’t a writer), but it seems a good fit for his storytelling abilities. “The Jewel in the Crown” remains the benchmark for screen depictions of this fascinating era — if Wright can conjure similar magic, this could be a real contender.

  • INTERVIEW: Jan Troell

    Jan TroellAfter taking a backseat to younger, scrappier film industries in recent years, 2008 marked a defiant resumption of the throne for a number of traditional world-cinema stalwarts – Italy was the talk of May’s Cannes festival, while France churned out one masterwork after the other. Joining them at the top, meanwhile, was Sweden, with a pair of exquisite, acclaimed titles that otherwise couldn’t be more diametrically opposed.

    While Tomas Alfredsson’s dreamy, disturbing awards-guzzler “Let the Right One In” announced the arrival of a startling new guard in Swedish cinema, the country’s official Oscar submission was the work of a decidedly gentler, more practiced hand.

    “Everlasting Moments,” a lyrical account of the life of Maria Larsson and her journey from abused housewife to accomplished photographer at the turn of the 20th century, is but the latest in a long line of works by esteemed 77 year-old veteran Jan Troell.

    The film, which opened Stateside on Friday, has been a humble yet not inconsiderable presence throughout this past awards season. Greeted enthusiastically at the Telluride and Toronto festivals, it went on to score a Golden Globe nod, and only narrowly missed the cut at the Oscars, having made the 9-strong shortlist in the foreign-language category.

    Troell, however, dismisses the whole awards business with good humor. “I was nowhere near as disappointed as people would like me to be,” he chuckles, speaking on the phone from his family home in Sweden. “They expect you to be depressed when you don’t make it, but that’s not the reason you make films. It would have been nice to go to the Oscars, but I’ve been there before, and I know not to take it all too seriously.”

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  • REVIEW: “The Young Victoria” (**)

    The Young VictoriaSomewhere out there, wherever such souls reside, Anne of Great Britain must be wondering what she had to do during her reign to merit her own prettily mounted biopic. She may be the last relatively untapped figure in British heritage cinema’s well-worn library of queenly narratives, but she has once more been passed over for the privilege of fronting the latest middlebrow, true-life royal drama, fast becoming an annual fixture on the UK film calendar.

    Instead, the powers that be (noting with reluctance that the lives of both Elizabeths have been sufficiently plundered of late) have returned to that old stalwart, Queen Victoria, for inspiration. Marginal inspiration, at that –- that “young” inserted in the title is intended as the film’s creative and commercial trump card, promising a sprightlier, sexier take on the figure more frequently depicted in her latter years as a stern, cabbage-faced matron.

    Indeed, from the sly casting of impish Emily Blunt in the title role to the Easter-egg hues of Sandy Powell’s typically immaculate frocks, Jean-Marc Vallee’s film works overtime to convince us that the 18-year-old Victoria could be very amused indeed: as Blunt barely suppresses laughter at a stiff royal function, or skips down a corridor after being informed of her impending coronation, she effectively severs any connection or comparison with Judi Dench’s Oscar-nominated interpretation of the role in “Mrs Brown.”

    Meanwhile, in depicting its subject as a modern woman suffocated by her surroundings and dated gender trappings, complete with adorable lapdog and an accent that is decidedly more Sloane Square circa 2009 than House of Hanover circa 1837, the film pulls a similar trick of characterization to last year’s “The Duchess.” Working, however, in an even softer register than that already lightweight film, “The Young Victoria” plays down court intrigue in favor of dewy-eyed first love; if “Elizabeth’s” populist coup was restyling royal history as political thriller, this lands squarely in rom-com territory, with Rupert Friend’s Prince Albert the dreamy yet ever-deferred suitor.

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  • ‘The Damned United’

    In a recent interview, Michael Sheen bristles at being labelled an impressionist. Understandably so — he’s a fine actor. However, the answer may be to stop doing quite so many biopics of figures from recent British history: so far, we’ve had Tony Blair (twice), David Frost, Kenneth Williams and now Brian Clough, the controversial British football manager whose brief, ill-fated attempt at heading up Leeds United in 1974 is the subject of “The Damned United,” which drops in the UK on March 27.

    Originally developed with Stephen Frears but now helmed by TV journeyman Tom Hooper (“John Adams”), the film also represents yet another dip into fact-oriented waters for writer Peter Morgan — another talented man who I’d like to see try his hand at something different. The trailer below looks jaunty and entertaining enough (though I don’t see the heavily football-steeped story resonating much across the pond), but am I the only one feeling a bit of déjà vu?

  • Better late…

    Last week’s server switch-induced hiatus prevented me from commenting on the César Awards — perhaps the ceremony I was eyeing most keenly this year given the prominence of my personal favourites in their rich pool of nominees. (I’ll say it again: France ruled 2008. End of story.)

    You’ve probably read the winners elsewhere by now. Nonetheless, I would like to offer a quick shout-out to the delightful IC interviewee Elsa Zylberstein, who deservedly took Best Supporting Actress honors for “I’ve Loved You So Long” (which also grabbed the Best First Film award). One of my many disappointments last season was watching Zylberstein enter the derby with a measure of dark-horse buzz, only to fall by the wayside at every single opportunity — I was thrilled to see her finally take home some hardware for a mighty career breakthrough.

    Zylberstein’s magnificent co-star, on the other hand, was just one of many frontrunners derailed by a surprising sweep for “Séraphine,” a modest biopic of historically neglected painter Séraphine de Senlis that garnered some warm notices at Toronto, but has otherwise been below the radar outside its home country. (It missed Oscar eligibility by a single day, though perhaps we should bear it in mind for next year.)

    I look forward to seeing it when it drops in the UK this summer. If it honestly deserved to beat the likes of “The Class” (which finally got some notice for its extraordinary screenplay), “A Christmas Tale” or “I’ve Loved You So Long,” it must be one hell of a picture. Full list of winners below the cut.

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  • In search of ‘Chéri’

    I can’t remember the last time I first laid eyes on a trailer for a prestige film in the cinema rather than on a computer screen. I kind of miss it — as a kid, the unexpectedness of such sightings, combined with the darkness of the theatre, made trailers something of an event for me.

    So it was this afternoon when, sitting in my local London multiplex, I was taken off-guard by the trailer for Stephen Frears’ “Chéri” — which, to my knowledge, hasn’t surfaced online yet. Hoping to share it with you all once I got home, a thorough scouring of the internet proved fruitless. What gives?

    As for the trailer itself, it surprised me in more ways than one. The film appears more openly comic than I was expecting, with a shrill tone that recalled “Mrs Henderson Presents” more than “Dangerous Liaisons” on the Frears scale. Of course, as we saw with “Happy-Go-Lucky,” Miramax isn’t averse to painting subtler material with a broad marketer’s brush, so we’ll see.

    Anyway, even with the film’s UK release set back to early May, the trailer is bound to appear online soon. Watch this space.

  • Película negra

    I’m sure many of you by now have seen the gorgeous European poster artwork for Pedro Almodóvar’s upcoming “Broken Embraces,” in all its lurid Warholian variations. (If you haven’t, Nat Rogers has the lot here.)

    Now, even more enticingly, we have the first full-length Spanish trailer for the film, an expansion of sorts of the enigmatic teaser that was revealed a few weeks ago. Obviously, it comes without English subtitles, and I’m afraid my college-boy Spanish is not what it was a few years ago, so I still have only a vague grasp of what it’s all about. Fine by me … when I’m looking forward to a film as much as this one, I prefer to remain as unspoiled as possible.

    Regardless, the trailer appears to confirm suspicions that this is a return for the master to the cruel, contemporary noir territory of “Live Flesh” and “Bad Education” — which might come as a relief to those, like me, who found “Volver,” for all its candy-coloured beauty, a little fey for its own good. As it stands, the pristine femme fatale styling of Penelope Cruz, and the popping hues of Rodrigo Prieto’s apparently luscious lensing, immediately call to mind John M. Stahl’s dayglo melodrama/noir/kitsch hybrid “Leave Her to Heaven.”

    Which is fine by me. But that’s just going on appearances. The Spanish, of course, get to find out on March 18. The rest of us have rather longer to wait.

  • LOL

    How did I miss this? From the Guardian’s Oscar wrap earlier this week:

    When Miley Cyrus told news media that Angelina Jolie is her “favourite figure from history,” was it because she thinks that Jolie is Alexander the Great’s mother, Colin Farrell the King of Macedonia and Brad Pitt Achilles? Sure, why not?

    Priceless. But let’s not be too hard on Cyrus … she is young, after all. With time, she’ll hopefully come to realize the full scale of the mighty struggles and triumphs endured by true historical heroes who changed the world for the better. You know, like Jennifer Aniston.

    (PS. Changing the subject, but sticking with the theme of foot-in-mouth moments from Sunday’s proceedings, did anyone else shift uncomfortably in their seat when Michael Douglas gushed that Frank Langella far outstripped previous interpretations of Richard Nixon … all the while standing next to Anthony Hopkins? Late to bring it up, I know, but it’s been nagging at me.) 

  • More than one ‘right’ choice

    Waltz with BashirIn the largely good-natured responses to a largely good-natured Oscar ceremony, only one result has been greeted with any real rancour from critics or pundits –- the “upset” (anticipated by some clever folks at the eleventh hour) in the Best Foreign Language Film category. But as much sympathy as one feels for the disappointed team behind the upended frontrunner, “Waltz With Bashir,” I can’t help feeling a little bad for the ultimate victor, “Departures,” whose moment in the sun is being somewhat tainted by the amount of resentment being cast its way.

    David Carr describes “Bashir’s” loss as “the biggest miss of the year,” adding that the Japanese film’s victory signals a triumph of convention over innovation. Meanwhile, Sasha Stone, who is usually at pains to be the most disinterested of Oscar bloggers, suggests that the win is “the worst of this year.” But these are mild jabs compared to Scott Foundas’ furious rant over the affair, in which he dismisses “Departures” as a “relentlessly mediocre tearjerker” and rages that “Bashir” was simply too sophisticated for the voters:

    Folman’s film was simply too innovative for the Academy’s notoriously calcified tastes … While Waltz builds to a conclusion that many (including this critic) counted among the most emotionally devastating in movies last year, it is a moment that is earned by the film rather than cheaply calculated, and which raises more questions than it answers. That’s something that many viewers of Folman’s film have found thrilling to behold, but which may well have inspired paroxysms of rage in Academy voters who stand by the belief that a movie should have a clear beginning, middle and end and send people out of the theater feeling better about “humanity.”

    I must admit to having mixed feelings about the whole business. I must emphasise that I have yet to see “Departures,” so I can make no statement about whether or not it’s an undeserving winner –- though I confess I’d be surprised if it’s as striking or provocative a piece of work as “Bashir.” And while I’m not as ardent a devotee of Folman’s film as many critics, I can’t deny that I was excited by the possibility of an animated documentary breaking new ground in a frequently conservative category. (On another tack, as I’ve said before, I agree with Foundas that the film’s omission from the ceremony’s ‘Animation 2008’ montage was inexplicable.)

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  • Mike Leigh on Hollywood, Mickey and losing an Oscar

    Mike LeighIf, like yours truly, you’re one of those who believe that British auteur Mike Leigh was robbed on Sunday night, you’ll thoroughly enjoy his Oscar diary. Ever the Hollywood outsider, Leigh attended the Academy Awards with his two adult sons as his guests, and he reflects on the ensuing madness with all the droll, dry humour present in so many of his films.

    As you would expect, he’s not all that bothered about losing the Original Screenplay award for “Happy-Go-Lucky,” not least because he learned shortly before the ceremony that the bookies had him as a 54-1 outsider. (He mordantly notes that his son Toby then placed £20 on him, “just in case.”) In any case, he professes to liking “Milk” a great deal, and rather enjoyed the ceremony as a whole, describing it with typical British reserve as “far less tacky and schmaltzy than usual.” What I really liked, however, is his candour on the awards themselves:

    The truth is, you only get the loser’s hump about the winners if you think that they’re crap, and tonight I get a real buzz out of nearly all the awards. Chuffed for jolly Michael O’Connor (best costumes, The Duchess), who assisted Lindy Hemming on Topsy-Turvy, and delighted that Benjamin Button got only technical awards!

    Wanted Mickey Rourke to win best actor (I voted for him) and, no disrespect to Kate and the other girls, I desperately miss Sally (Hawkins). I genuinely can’t see how any of their performances are as original, creative, profound, witty or versatile as hers. But there you go.

    Sure, most directors would probably say that about their leading ladies, but in this case, he happens to be right. I’m also interested to hear that he’s on Team Rourke — I recall sitting behind Leigh at “The Wrestler’s” first London screening back in October and observing his evident enthusiasm for the film then.

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  • Keep it about the movies

    I don’t think there are many film journalists — much less any Oscar pundits — who wouldn’t admit to feeling some relief when Sunday’s ceremony put a close-fitting lid on months of awards-related speculation, gossip and occasional complaining. (Who, me?) Especially in a season as airlessly uncompetitive as this one, it can be a strain to find new perspectives on old news, and as Kris has already discussed, we’re all longing to leap into the unknown that is 2009.

    Kenneth Turan certainly agrees. While he finds no fault with the awards themselves, praising the new-look Oscarcast to the skies, he is fed up with wall-to-wall Oscar coverage that he deems frequently less than generous in spirit:

    I found myself troubled with the way the protracted Oscar predicting season has become an endless game of gotcha, obscuring the movies themselves and the love of film that should be at the event’s core. 

    While journalists who cared about the Oscars could at one time all fit into a small booth at Nicodell’s on Melrose, the advent of the Web and its ugly, insatiable appetite for anything smacking of celebrity has meant that hordes of folks are now thick on the ground, scorching the earth in search of tidbits and chitchat.

    The problem with this obsessive quest, with constantly taking the temperature of contenders as if they were billionaires in an intensive-care ward, is that it becomes an end unto itself.

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  • ‘Slumdog’: what just happened?

    Danny Boyle at the 81st annual Academy AwardsTwo days after the fact, in the comedown after six months of relentless Oscar hype, and the beautiful, surreal nature of what happened on Sunday is starting to sink in. Sure, “Slumdog Millionaire” was the red-hot favorite. Sure, it had won everything else going and had been ingeniously campaigned by one of the savviest studios in the business.

    But viewed out of context, is it not kind of incredible that an independent foreign production, from an iconoclastic director with no Oscar history, with not a single Western star (or a single white actor, for that matter) and a significant portion of Hindi dialogue, just scooped 8 awards from Hollywood’s most venerable institution?

    The further back I step from the events, the more I wonder whether I dreamed it all up. What does it mean? Is this a significant bellwether of the growing globalization of the industry, or is it a freak anomaly that happened because a lot of people simply connected with one movie this year, and not much else? David Carr, who is left similarly dazzled and dazed by the film’s astonishing coup, seems to think it’s a bit of both:

    American film is one of the last remaining exports, a kind of bejeweled software that the rest of the world clearly loves … But global imperatives go both ways. When a film with a British director, Indian actors and French co-financing goes home with eight Oscars, it’s hard not to see a message.

    “I think it demonstrates that a good story well told, whether it is about someone in Mumbai, China or around the corner, will find an audience,” said Nancy Utley, chief operating officer at Fox Searchlight, the division of 20th Century Fox that found Oscar (and box office) gold after picking up “Slumdog Millionaire.” She added that the studio specialty division knew it had a winner on its hands when it screen-tested the film in Orange County, Calif. — sort of a ground zero of a conventional American audience — without any marketing or explanation, and the room loved it.

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  • A private function

    When all is said and done, it wasn’t an awards season that deserved a fireworks finish, so perhaps last night’s muted, largely tasteful, faintly insular ceremony was an appropriate summation. It ran smoothly enough, with a handful of novel distractions and a uniformly generous, empathetic spirit running through the night’s speeches –- but I’d be hard pressed to remember many notable ‘moments’ from last night’s proceedings a week from now, let alone years hence.

    Part of that stems from the fact that, as has been discussed ad nauseum on these and other pages, we had a less-than-stellar field of contenders to work with. But I’m afraid I must slide into the apparently tiny glass-half-empty minority on the show itself –- as efficiently and enthusiastically as the show unfolded, I simply didn’t find all that much to love about it. As Danny Boyle suggested in the midst of yet another boundless, winning acceptance speech (can we find something for him to win every year, please?), it looked like a blast for those present, but I’m not sure the clubby, “we’re all in this together” vibe really translated to the distance of a TV screen.

    After the cloak-and-dagger secrecy shrouding Bill Condon and Laurence Mark’s revised take on the Oscars, I must say I was expecting a slicker, more dramatic reworking of the format –- and on that front, I must say I was a little disappointed. Hugh Jackman was certainly a game, likeable emcee, but I wasn’t certain who the target audience for his big set pieces was. Equal parts Crystal-esque shtick and endearingly naff “let’s put on a show” razzle-dazzle, both elements seemed to me too dated to court the broader, younger, hipper viewership the Academy wanted. The Baz Luhrmann-staged musical number at the centre was fun in itself, but existed in a similar cultural vacuum, despite the presence of current pop phenomena like Beyonce or Zac Efron. For all the hype, this was familiar content.

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  • Ebert gathers his thoughts

    Ahead of tonight’s ceremony, Roger Ebert has collected some final, scattered musings — among them, a modest semi-boast that he predicted tonight’s probable “Slumdog” victory a mere 60 seconds after seeing the film last summer.

    He also anticipates a successful hosting performance from Hugh Jackman (the combination of being both Australian and a youngest sibling bodes well, apparently), and shares my inkling about Viola Davis:  

    I choose Davis because her performance provided, for me, one of those rare Yes!! moments, when an actor appears on the screen, electrifies you, and makes you intensely happy. A lot of people must have shared that feeling, I reasoned.

    Which performance is objectively better is of course beside the point. You can’t grade art objectively. It is worth reflecting that many best actor winners over the years have likely not scored a simple majority in their categories. We’ll never know who lost by one vote. The secret ballots have been called a rebuke to democracy, but there is nothing democratic about it. If there was, there should be primaries.

    Fair enough. I must admit that if I was using “Yes!!” moments as my criteria, I’d be predicting Marisa Tomei, but I have yet to hear anyone breathe even a word of criticism about Davis’ performance. Almost a pity that one of the night’s most exciting contests will be settled right off the bat.

  • Who needs an Oscar…

    … when you have the gold medal from Nathaniel Rogers’ peerless Film Bitch Awards? After teasing us for far too long, Nat has finally wrapped up his nominees and revealed his rankings. Anyone with a passing acquaintance with The Film Experience of late won’t be surprised to learn that “Rachel Getting Married” has done rather well, but I’m thrilled to see justice at last for Sally Hawkins, his Best Actress winner. Take that, Academy.

    Dig in here. It’s a riot.

  • You were right, I was wrong: Guy’s final predictions

    (Expanded thoughts and reasonings on yesterday’s list of predictions.)

    It’s years like 2008 when I throw my hands up and admit (albeit with great reluctance) that my family and friends have been right for the last two decades. Carla, Tom, Kim, Auntie Mavis: I give up. I am insane to care as much as I do about the Oscars. They are stupid. They don’t matter, and I really should find something more important and rewarding to care about, like, oh, needlepoint classes or professional darts championships.

    But who am I kidding? I will always care about the Oscars, even in years like this when the race is so dry, and its significance so questionable, that I take great care in not caring. In a year when so few of my personal favourites have cracked the contenders list, it has at least been interesting to sit back and watch the furore unfold over the Academy voters’ spectacularly self-sabotaging antics this year.

    I’ve been wrong about a lot of things this year (Kris scoffed at my naive suggestion back in July that “Happy-Go-Lucky” could be a Best Picture nominee, and he was right to), and right about … well … “Milk’s” nomination for Best Costume Design. (Hey, let me salvage some glory from this year’s meagre spoils.) I don’t expect to be a hell of a lot more successful with the following predictions, but you never know. It’s still been a lot of fun riding out the season with you this year – here’s to a better slate of contenders (and a lot less grousing from me) in 12 months’ time.

    BEST PICTURE
    Apart from the fact that it is the most imaginative and entertaining of this year’s feeble clutch of nominees, the reason “Slumdog Millionaire” has a stranglehold on this category is because it’s the only one of the five that has any discernible relationship to contemporary cinema. The other four all feel to varying degrees like the finely-tooled Best Picture winners of decades past, but the younger, more curious Academy members have been moving away from such self-consciously packaged ‘prestige product’ in the past few years – even if they need a lot of pointing towards what to reward in its stead.

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