Author: BRWC

There is something particularly exciting about watching a film set in an environment completely unfamiliar to its audience. Metro Manila is the Philippines’ National Capital Region, with a population of around 12 million. Flanked by the mountainous Rizal to the west, and the fertile Bulacan to the north, it is the ultra-urban, pounding heart of the islands. And all this I learned from the comfort of my living room. Bless you, Google.

As such, my expectation of Metro Manila, much like my expectations of a lot of world cinema ventures, was rich colour, tremendous scenery, and difficult, even alien, narrative. I wasn’t wrong, but I wasn’t entirely right, either. Sean Ellis’ Oscar nominated feature is tenderly, creatively, much, much more.

Its settings, its language, even its storyline, are foreign, but the raw themes of desperation, love, and loyalty, though not perfectly executed, are entirely universal. It’s a testament to Ellis that at no point is the audience made to feel like perverse observers of Filipino plight, and yet the director clearly appreciated that the film would never have the same impact had it been shot in his native Britain. If filmed on the streets of London, Metro Manila would undoubtedly be lost to Jason Statham-esque hammy performances, and a garish, painted faux-reality all too familiar to viewers. Instead, what we are presented with is something far less relatable, and yet, something far more real.

When their earnings working in the rice fields prove too meagre to live on, Oscar and Mai Ramirez take their two small children to the capital of Manila in the hope they can secure a better future for their small family. Needless to say, things don’t work out, and whilst Mai (played tenderly, if just a little woodenly, by Althea Vega) takes a job as an exotic dancer, Oscar (sensitive, beautiful Jake Macapagal) eventually finds work at an armoured truck company. Befriended by his erratic partner, Ong (hectic and brutally played by John Arcilla), the mortality of his new found position becomes immediately apparent to Oscar, and his determination to provide for his family begins to challenge his desire to remain honest, moral and compassionate to the world outside their various, tiny homes.

Part family drama, part buddy film, part heist; it’s difficult to identify full scenes that make the film enjoyably tense without giving the somewhat convoluted plot away. There are delightful standout moments (though ‘delightful’ may not be the right word), such as a brief, tender shower scene between Oscar and Mai, antagonistic conversations between Ong and Oscar as they discuss the right to riches, and an excellent moment when a drunken Oscar is heartbreakingly overwhelmed by where his life has lead him.

Whilst some of the acting is overly theatrical, and certain scenes wade too heavily into clichéd waters, Metro Manila, and in particular Macapagal’s performance, is also uncontrived and clever. It isn’t perfect by any means, but perhaps that’s sort of the point. After all, as Ellis’ narrative points out, neither is life.

The first time Al Pacino played a police officer! With a beard no less!

There once were a time when Al Pacino starred in films and you didn’t automatically think of shouting something along the gravely lines of “GAAAAAAAAA you fuck!”. No there was a time was a time when Mr. Pacino was more softly spoken and sounded like young Edward G. Robinson crossed with a duck.

Serpico saw him perhaps at his softest spoken and showed  the first few signs of his later, famous angry growl. With a beard no less. His first major film after the success of The Godfather, Serpico sees Pacino star as the titular honest cop trying to highlight the corruption inherent in the New York Police department in the 1960s. Tracing Officer Serpico’s life over twelve years we see him come up as a rookie, to an undercover on the streets to an undercover in his own department. Fighting against his contemporaries and superiors along the way, he wages an almost-one-man-crusade against the corrupt system.

All ready well-established with gritty and grim features Sidney Lumet was a fine last minute choice (after John G. Avildsen) dropped out. Shot entirely on location around all of New York city it feels as though no stone in the city is left un-turned as we’re lead down labyrinths of dirty alleyways and shadowy apartment blocks. The only real refuge ever seems to come from Serpico’s cozily appointed flat complete with fluffy Dulex dog. Showing the absolute struggle that Frank Serpico went through to get the truth out is an often infuriating experience. This is a very talky film. Many discussions had at tables and chairs of varying settings. But always compelling. Pacino moves seamlessly from one year to the next. To a different table and chair set up. To a new beard and hair length. The score is a bit odd at times. Sounding as though we should be in a slapstick comedy involving the Dolmio Italian Puppets, a couple of supporting actors here and there are a bit flat but Serpico holds up remarkably well. Despite there being a wealth of police procedural dramas and Pacino seemingly playing a cop in every other film these days it still impresses both as a piece of original work and a performance.

A Map for Love is the tale of Roberta, a young mother of a 6 year old boy that’s just entered into a relationship with the impulsive Javiera. Roberta decides that if her new relationship with Javiera is going to work, she will need to come out to her mother. She arranges for a boat trip around the bay for the three of them so they can get to know each other. Stormy waters are ahead though as generational, sexual and social barriers need to be traversed in order for their love to be accepted.

This movie is a well executed tale technically, unfortunately it’s not without it’s issues. The movie has many pacing issues and I found my concentration waning as we go through many scenes where people seem trapped in their own heads unable to say what they feel. These moments should have been emotionally charged but the characters all seem a little two dimensional. Everybody seems like a stereotype and has no complexity to them at all. The dialogue is also a little too on the nose for my tastes.

I can’t quite get my head around the message this movie is trying to tell; It seems like it’s trying to ram down our throats the fact that lesbian relationships are still looked upon with prejudice and should be more widely accepted. I get that I’m not the target audience here, I’m a 28 year old straight man but I do however live in Brighton, the gay capital of the UK where love in all forms is widely accepted. So the main issue I have with the movie is the fact that it isn’t a tale of true love, it seems more like the tale of first love, too lustful and naive. It feels like the movie is a teenager who’s screaming to the world “you don’t understand our love, what we have is special”; Moments later it seems as though it’s trying too hard to say “look! We’re normal just like you”. Not even Roberta seems to have made up her mind about what she wants, as we’re shown a dream sequence where Roberta is carrying an un made bed through the streets; If even she hasn’t made her bed to lie in, how the hell are we meant to accept it.

All in all this movie doesn’t feel like a tale of love rather than a tale of experimentation. Like I say though, I’m not the target market and maybe you’ll get something else out of this.

3/10

We all know that in the Europe of the Second World War, the Nazis are the bad guys.  A whole history of cinema has enforced this idea and we, the modern generation, are comfortable with it and accept it.  But what about the Germans?  The Nazis are a political party, with members and a government, who happened to lead the country Germany.  This is an question that seems best left unasked in the movie industry, until now.

The Book Thief tells the story of Liesel, an orphaned girl from East Germany as she is adopted by foster parents during the outbreak of the war.  We see the war from her perspective and her experience as she attends school, makes friends, is taught to read by her foster father and eventually falls in love with books and stories.  As the war progresses, things become more desperate as her family shelter a young Jewish man, Leisel starts stealing books that are forbidden by the Nazis and the Allies creep ever closer to Germany.

The film is an adaptation of a well loved novel, and in all of these cases there is a challenge with how you do that.  The book has Death (yeah, the guy with the scythe) narrating it, and the film opens and closes with that.  If you can suffer it for the few moments it jars you from the story, you can get on to enjoying this movie.  It’s a compelling tale of a girl growing up (with fantastic performances from all the cast that pull all of your heart strings) in extreme circumstances, but also does great work to show us something we think we know so well from a slightly different angle, and makes us reevaluate our prejudices.  There are things we’ve seen before, of course, for such a well visited subject matter, but what takes us along is Leisel.  Sophie Nélisse is captivating as this young girl, and she makes you believe so much that you’ll forgive some of its shortcomings and focus on its achievements.

The Book Thief is in cinemas 26th February 2014.

Two Jacks, directed by Bernard Rose, concerns the Hollywood exploits of – you guessed it – Two different Jacks: Legendary filmmaker Jack Hussar (Danny Huston) and, later, his upstart auteur son, Jack Jnr (Jack Huston). Based somewhat upon Leo Tolstoy’s short story Two Hussars, the film rambles its way through Los Angeles and leaves you scratching your head in mild confusion.

Two Jacks has some pedigree – it has bona fide stars (Danny Huston, Sienna Miller), as well as a couple of ‘ooh, I’ve seen his face before’ players (former Hollyoaks-er Guy Burnet) and a tenured director. The plot has some potential, if not a huge amount below the surface. However, it seems filmmaker Bernard Rose was only able to secure enough funding for a couple of camera-phones to shoot his movie. You may find yourself checking the DVD for blemishes – the picture is rather awful. Shot like a 90 minute long YouTube video, with focus darting in and out at will and shaky camera moves, Two Jacks fails on a basic aesthetic level.

Perhaps the performances can save it? Both Hustons (Uncle and Nephew in real life) are good enough, with the elder in the role of charming hell-raiser – channeling some Jack Nicholson devilish eyebrows as he drunk-drives around Hollywood, trying to raise money for his latest film – a project in Africa. Getting kicked out of hotels, fighting at parties, bedding the frankly-young-enough-to-be-his-daughter Diana (Miller) – it’s all done in the classic Hollywood bad-boy-with-charm way. He gets away with it.

Flash forward 20 years, and Hussar Senior is long gone. In comes Jack Jnr, in LA to direct his own feature. Clearly influenced by his Father, he comes across like an entitled prick, bemoaning the lack of space in his gigantic hotel suite and being rather rude to a now older, fading Diana (Jacqueline Bisset). Whereas Daddy Hussar had something of the classic hell-raiser about him, Jack Jnr is far more like the current generation of bad-boy idols. He’s the Justin Bieber to his Dad’s Ollie Reed.

Sienna Miller’s Diana is bright and seductive – possibly the best performance of the lot. The rest of the cast is middling to bad, however. Often it feels like a student film, and many scenes see people talking over each other, making dialogue unfathomable. Confusingly, while some care is taken to show the passing of time – the cars on the street, Diana’s metamorphosis from Miller to Bisset as she ages, certain aspects are ignored completely. Both Hussars visit Lorenzo, a broadly painted, sinister producer who likes to have filmmakers in his pocket. Played by Richard Portnow, Lorenzo doesn’t age a day over the twenty year gap, and neither does his shady, red lit bar where he appears to being playing poker in the same outfit.

When Jack Jnr goes on a bender with Lorenzo’s go-go dancer girl, we expect severe consequences. They never really arrive, and the film peters out. It’s unclear what the message is – do we sympathise with Jack Jnr? Do we even care?

Not really.