La Soledad is Venezuelan director Jorge Thielen Armand feature film debut. Having screened at Venice International Film Festival, Miami Film Festival (Audience Award) and Atlanta Film Festival (Special Jury Prize); as well as winning the Best Opera Prima and Best Sound Design at Festival del Cine Venezolano, this little movie following the lives of a very humble family trying to keep their house amidst the tragic situation of the country, sets the way for a quite promising film career.
La Soledad is the name of the old mansion Jose and his family live in. His grandma Rosita used to be the maid of the long gone wealthy family that once inhabited the house and knows all the legends regarding the place; as the morocota gold coins hidden treasure somewhere in the nowadays derelict garden. But Jose has no time for legends for he has a little daughter to take care of, a problematic brother bringing his shady friends around and a wife who is getting tired of her job and is considering moving out to Colombia. To top it off, the actual owners of the house want to demolish it to sell the land.
Jose keeps neglecting his daughter’s insistence about a beach trip they were supposed to have while facing endless queues in the town hall to ask for social benefits and empty supermarkets that serve as a subtle and never politically driven view of current Venezuela.
On that matter, there are brief and well placed lines of dialogue that give a darker insight such as one of the friends of Jose’s brother proposal to join him in his express kidnappings as-it’s the only thing that gives money nowadays. In addition, there are other not so elegantly showed but equally striking sequences that underline that point as the overcrowded hospital the main character takes his grandma to, unsuccessfully, get the medicines she needs.
That last scene of the movie shows Jose taking his wife and daughter to the beach and enjoying an isolate moment of peace while floating face up in the sea as the camera zooms out to, finally, fade to black.
La Soledad fits in the social realism genre frame but it is also half documentary as many of the actors play themselves in the film. It is sober, striking and beautiful. The movie delivers the message intended through its tone and lack of action and even though it gets a bit slow from time to time or some would argue the resolution is anything but resolute, the film stays faithful to its nature and portrays magnificently the poverty-stricken situation of Venezuela nowadays.
Detroit is undoubtedly one of the most expected releases of the year. Not only because of the prolific and talented hand of its director: Katrhyn Bigelow (Academy Award winner for The Hurt Locker) but also because, by luck or misfortune, it coincides with a very specific moment of social and racial turmoil in the western world and especially the U.S: from Trump’s election to the Black Lives Matter movement or the recent events at Charlottesville, Virginia).
Detroit is set under the frame of the city’s riots in 1967 and it focuses on The Algiers Motel Incident: when three young black men were killed during an interrogation by DPD officers claiming that there was a sniper amidst the hotel guests. After a people’s trial (on which the movie doesn’t really focus) following the initial absolution of the three policemen involved, those were taken off the streets and the force with no further consequences (aside from a ridiculous fine to one of the affected families).
The film’s opening is superb- animating a Jacob Lawrence’s painting series on the Great Migration- and it sets the tone and the mood to come. Shortly after, the event that lit the spark of the riots is broadly portrayed and the characters that will carry the story introduced. From that moment on, the story follows the Algiers Motel Incident from its very beginning to its tragic ending and it resolves with a quick and not particularly thorough sequence of the trials mentioned, to end up with captions over black screen explaining the outcome of the lives of the real people involved.
The movie succeeds in delivering a point; even though it trembles in several moments to eventually deliver the intended message. That risk is caused by the somehow sloppy ending which, never seems to arrive. But little by little the audience surely feels the rage, fear and impotence of witnessing the outrageous performance of the Detroit police force. The feeling of utter injustice and lack of belief in the judicial system travels from the screen to the spectators’ guts unavoidably.
The main problem, in the humble opinion of the writer of this article, is precisely the destination of this message: the guts. To be completely honest, it feels like the director is looking for a visceral reaction from the audience, which she gets, rather than trying to dissection the roots of the problem. That is unarguably disappointing considering what she is capable of- especially in The Hurt Locker and the emotional depth of its characters’ arcs.
The three cops guilty of the massacre are shown as bad apples and not as part of a broader system of policing. Which unfortunately enough resonates with the current situation mentioned at the beginning of this text: the bad apple explanations it’s a major risk, to put it gently, considering how many times in how many different parts of the country (or the world) the exact same thing has happened. I.e. people being killed by the infrastructure supposed to protect them for racial, class and economic circumstances that have created a climate of tension, fear and mutual distrust. Detroit is clearly a work of fiction and it should be seen as such (partly); but accepting that, let’s at least point out how misleading is the title (as it could be called Algiers and it would be way more fair to the actual events taking place in the movie) and its introduction.
The way the writer of this article sees it: it feels more like real and freaking scary Funny Games during the Detroit riots than an actual (fictionalised) depiction of the 1967 riots in “The Motor Town”.
Old school comedian Les Dawson used to have a popular routine where he’d attempt to play the piano and fail to hilarious effect when he was actually a hugely gifted musician. As well as showing our age, that story highlights the precedent that to appear casually terrible at something you actually have to be at the top of your game. This is something Bill Nighy demonstrates with aplomb in Their Finest, available on digital platforms from August 14th and on Blu-ray and DVD from August 21st.
Nighy is one of the country’s beloved character actors and whether he’s breaking hearts in Love Actually, swashing his buckle in Pirates of the Caribbean or tracking down rogue spies in Page Eight, Nighy has always been one of our most dextrous and treasured performers. In Their Finest Nighy plays washed-up ham Ambrose Hilliard. Disgruntled that his days as a matinee idol have faded and forced to take roles he thinks are beneath him in government propaganda films, Hilliard is the comic core around which the romantic drama unfolds – and it turns out he’s as brilliant at being terrible as he is at being brilliant.
In honour of Nighy and his ham actor alter ego, let’s raise a glass to him and to other amazing actors hamming it up on screen in the name of performance:
Bill Nighy in Their Finest (2016)
As Ambrose Hilliard, Nighy meets the indignity of playing a terrible actor brilliantly, serving thick chunks of largely talent-free ham in the scenes where he acts like he’s acting, while balancing that with the tragic weight of reality in more private moments as he both fights against and simultaneously accepts the hand the war has dealt his career as an actor.
Scenes opposite Henry Goodman and Helen McRory (who individually and to varying degrees of success serve as Hilliard’s manager) allow him to let rip and deliver some peak Nighy, but he’s just as good when failing to realise he’s being manipulated by Gemma Arterton’s canny Katrin.
Ralph Fiennes in Grand Budapest Hotel (2014)
The latest film from one of modern cinemas true visionaries, Wes Anderson, is probably his most hilarious, which is in no doubt thanks the extraordinarily OTT performance from Ralph Fiennes as fugitive concierge extraordinaire Monsieur Gustave H. Whilst spending the majority of the film on the run with his apprentice lobby boy and partner in crime Zero (Tony Revolori), Fiennes’ seldom seen comedy chops are called upon to glorious effect.
Despite the film’s tightly wound aesthetic, Fiennes manages to bring fresh eccentricity to the screen with perfect precision; every snappy comeback, camp eyebrow raise and nonchalant “darling” to his less-animated counterparts is executed to fit in the Anderson machine like clockwork. It seems even good ol’ Wes knows that a bit of ham every now and then is a wonderful thing!
Kenneth Branagh in Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets (2002)
Branagh has rarely looked like he’s having as much fun as he does playing the fatuous, vain and morally bankrupt Gilderoy Lockhart in the second Harry Potter film. The fact that he’s an actor of renowned nuance and subtlety (see Wallander, Valkyrie, Dunkirk for proof) doesn’t mean he can’t have fun and, as Lockhart, he’s a testament to the idea that it’s blondes who have the most fun.
Laying on the cheese with a trowel, Branagh is all toothy grin and over-coiffed hair until it comes to the crunch and the mask slips – this is one vain fool who will turn on a sixpence to protect his own hide, something Harry and friends nearly find out to their cost.
Al Pacino in The Devil’s Advocate (1997)
Granted, you’d be hard pressed to find a performance from Pacino where there aren’t tooth marks in the scenery but in The Devil’s Advocate and, arguably, Scent of a Woman the scenery chewing is pretty much off the chart. The Devil’s Advocate, though, lets him get away with it a little more than other films have done quite simply because, well, he’s Satan and who’s in a position to say how over the top he might actually be?
The histrionics from Pacino also offer an animated counterpoint to Keanu Reeves’ dead-eyed stare throughout the film, looking for all the world as though he can’t for the life of him figure out how he’s ended up playing a hotshot lawyer in the Devil’s employ.
Gary Oldman in The Fifth Element (1997)
Luc Besson is clearly a fan of a) Gary Oldman and b) a joyous lack of subtlety and these twin facts are never more eloquently displayed than in the timelessly brilliant space opera, The Fifth Element. Until the early 1990s, Oldman had been best known for complex, edgy roles in the likes of Prick Up Your Ears and Sid & Nancy, and there’s been no shortage of them since then either, but 1994 saw him partner with Besson for the first time and go full tilt crazy playing the overblown, brilliantly watchable villain of the piece in Leon, before repeating the trick to glorious effect as Zorg opposite Bruce Willis and Milla Jovovich. A masterclass in carefully prepared ham if ever there was one!
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DOxWmI1PipA
THEIR FINEST IS AVAILABLE ON DIGITAL PLATFORMS FROM AUGUST 14TH AND ON BLU-RAY AND DVD FROM AUGUST 21ST COURTESY OF LIONSGATE HOME ENTERTAINMENT UK
Having food while watching a film is a staple of modern human culture. It can be done by visiting the store and grabbing some stuff before you arrive at a friend’s house, ordering some takeaway directly to you or grabbing something at the counter at the cinema. Food in film can be seen in numerous ways, as it can be used to set the mood, create some comedy or simply give the characters something to do. Restaurants make a great setting for many scenes and there are many famous restaurant moments in films and here are some of the best.
Mrs. Doubtfire
Mrs. Doubtfire
Robin Williams’ 1993 comedy Mrs Doubtfire has achieved a legendary status. It shows off William’s skills as a comic, with him taking on dual roles. Being able to convey two different characters but are still the same person is pulled of masterfully and it is at it’s best at the restaurant scene. William’s character Daniel Hillard finds himself at a restaurant as both his aliases and so must switch between the two when with his family or a potential employer. Putting on the costume and then taking it off, getting the two mixed up and the craziness that ensues makes this one of the most memorable and enjoyable parts of the whole film.
Pulp Fiction
Pulp Fiction was a smash hit in in 1994, making over twenty-five times it’s £8 million budget. It would create a slew of imitators and make director Quentin Tarantino a household name. The twists and turns of a plot in the day in the life of some gangsters, with it’s harsh violence and quick dialogue makes it a great film. The restaurant scene in Pulp Fiction has hit-man Vincent Vega (John Travolta) care taking Mia Wallace (Uma Thurman). The fifties style diner plays an important part as the two exchange words about milkshakes that underlines more lofty ideas. The following dance number is even more iconic.
Goodfellas
Sticking with gangsters, the 1990 Scorsese classic contains one of the best restaurant scenes in any film. The movie covers the story of Henry Hill (Ray Liotta) and his companions over the course of twenty-five years. The most famous bit of the film occurs when the gang are at a dinner and Tommy DeVito (Joe Pesci), a violent man who’s quick to anger, asks the immortal question “How am I funny?” This intense scene has the actors show their mastery as they attempt to diffuse the situation and answer DeVito without insulting him. It’s one of the best parts of any film and uses the restaurant setting as a contrast from a light-hearted moment to a dangerous one.
The Lonely Guy
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=91hNmMO-GXY
In may not be as famous as the others, but the restaurant scene from 1984’s comedy The Lonely Guy is a simple and funny moment. Steve Martin’s character Larry Hubbard finds himself dining alone in a restaurant and has to deal with the literal spotlight. As he announces he’s eating by himself, every diner stares at him for the rest of the scene, with a light following him to his table. It highlights the awkwardness and almost taboo that can come with eating alone, with Martin staying awkwardly calm and charming throughout a very amusing part of the movie.
After a limited run last December, Your Name is returning to UK cinemas in both IMAX and standard formats. After breaking box office records in Japan, it became a rare international success. It’s not hard to see why: Your Name is a melting pot of conflicting elements, all of which fuse together with invigorating energy and soul.
The film may be jarring for some Western audiences who are unfamiliar with the stylings of Japanese anime. Unlike the more classical Studio Ghibli, it has a pop aesthetic. Your Name begins with an opening credits sequence that is more like the titles of a TV show than anything you’ll find in American cinema. Much of the film sets itself to peppy J-pop; it can feel abrasive, but when embraced, these big-hearted musical choices are an expressive representation of the teenage soul.
Two seventeen year olds divide the screen time, but scarcely share it. Mitsuha lives in a quiet mountain town where the closest thing to a café is the pairing of a bench and a vending machine on the side of the road. She dreams of something bigger and easier: “Please make me a handsome Tokyo boy in my next life!” That frustrated cry into the wind gains a lot more significance than Mitsuha ever anticipated.
We’re presented with vignettes of Mitsuha’s life, often preceded by a black screen and the buzzing of an alarm. It’s not until later that it becomes evident that, during our very first encounter with Mitsuha, she wasn’t Mitsuha at all.
Taki is that very thing that Mitsuha wishes to be: a handsome Tokyo boy, who often frequents a real café with his school friends. After a few seemingly amnesiac episodes, both Mitsuha and Taki realise that what they thought were dreams were actually real: every week or two they randomly switch bodies. Initial alarm fades away, and they gradually work out a way for their unpredictable new situation to function: leaving diary entries on each others’ phones and writing on their hands and faces.
Your Name remains a sweet body-swapping comedy for at least its first half.
There’s no ultimate goal attached to their predicament, so Mitsuha and Taki go about each others’ daily lives, trying to navigate their complications. While neither can talk to the other face to face, their connection to one another’s lives becomes stronger and the film sends us into a time-jumping montage which imagines them talking face to face. They scold each other in the messages they leave behind. They talk with the kind of scornful sarcasm that can only be cultivated between old friends.
It’s in this territory that the movie is most comfortable. A more satisfying third act would have been one that went further with the threads set up at the beginning. Instead, the film feels a need to heighten the stakes to an alarming degree, and it loses sight of what it was trying to say in the first place. New rules are added to the initial sci-fi premise that appear to be rooted in nothing other than a need to push the plot in the necessary direction.
It is true that without this sudden shift, the film may not have been able to get to its moving coda. At the very end, Your Name becomes about looking wistfully back on your childhood: to the places you went that you can’t quite remember, and the people you loved whose faces are fading in your memory.
Unfortunately, this emotional gut-punch comes at the expense of exploring more interesting themes.
In its second half, it becomes clear that Your Name is pushing these characters into a romance with each other. This is strange given the dynamics set up earlier which, if explored, could have led to a fascinating exploration of gender. That gendered element is brought to the fore given that this is the story of a boy and a girl taking on each others’ bodies – and their exploration of their new physical forms is given screen time, mostly in the context of comedy. However, with Mitsuha’s romancing of Taki’s female work colleague while in Taki’s body, one thing becomes clear: Taki is falling in love with Mitsuha, but Mitsuha is falling in love with being Taki. It’s baffling that the film decides to leave this unexplored.
In IMAX, Your Name is visually ravishing. The camera often sweeps around its characters as they gaze up at the stars, and we’re left just as astonished as they are. While Your Name is not a clear vision, it is often quite wonderful – and emotionally resonant. Controversially, it failed to earn an Academy Award nomination for best animated feature. While I would count myself as slightly less awed by the film as others are, I wouldn’t hesitate to join the chorus of those claiming it deserved that nomination; this ragged film is more affecting and complex than most commercial animation, even if it has room to be much more of both those things.
