Jeremy Gardener’s After Midnight is a horror film that’s perfect date night fodder. It fits being a creature feature, romantic drama and small-town thriller all in to a 90ish minute package.
The film follows Hank (played by Gardner) and girlfriend Abby (Brea Grant) from the first throws of love, to a decade later where Hank finds a mysterious ‘be back some time’ note left by Abby. Their house is run down, surrounded by luscious swamp foliage typical to Florida. Which makes the fact that a creature tries to break into the house in Abby’s absence creepy yet predictable (in a good way).
The trend for making horror films represent more (the likes of Babadook or It Comes At Night), has certainly soaked its way into this film. The horror element is almost an aside to the character-driven plot. Whilst a lot of times this leaves films with people googling afterwards ‘such and such film ending explained’, After Midnight’s punch is impactful.
The performances are endearing, and whilst sometimes the script falls a bit off the rails, the relationships and communities are believable. As hybrid films go, this is a success. It will bring you joy one moment, fear the next, with a chucklesome finish. To top it all off, the cinematography is just gorgeous and the strong use of colour and creature design make this simple movie so much more.
This is a love story that’s accessible to your spouse who either has the Nightmare on Elm Street Boxset, or makes you watch The Notebook every darn Valentine’s Day.
After Midnight is now available to stream on Arrow Video.
Sweet, honest and patriotic; Jack & Yaya is more than a transformation story. It is a story about family, identity and the American way. Director Jen Bagley follows her subjects Jack & Yaya, best friends who, after growing up next door to each other, both go on their own journey of gender transformation.
Whilst the core message of this documentary is rooted in the stigmas and struggles of trans communities, it also delivers a beautiful message of community, as well as breaking stereotypes of poorer communities in the US. It’s refreshing and hopeful to watch a documentary of this subject matter that shows family acceptance and honesty.
Using archival footage from the Jack & Yaya’s respective family recordings, Bagley weaves a tapestry of experiences and characters that so embody America, but demonstrate change and tolerance that will inevitably influence the fabric of what it means to be American.
Whilst not everything in the film is blue skies and fresh daisies, both Jack and Yaya share their personal, no holds barred journeys that I’m sure will inspire, and give a frank reality of being part of the trans community.
Bagly’s cinematography is thoughtful and non-intrusive, and she is obviously a trustworthy Director for her cast to let their guards down and be so open in front of the camera.
The to-camera interviews of family members telling their family history, give an interesting insight into ever-changing family values and social prejudice.
After a successful run at film festivals internationally, Jack & Yaya will be available for streaming on June 15th
Quit Your Jibber Jabber In The Cinema!: Most cinema lovers have been in this situation, I’m sure. You’re in the dark, people have been talking all the way through the trailers (even through the latest Marvel trail, what the flip), but you let it slide, because soon the main feature will be on, and people will want to concentrate and be excited to watch the film.
Then, the BBFC certificate draws in to focus, and there are still a few people giggling. You’re a bit miffed, because that certificate is setting the scene of ‘quiet time’.
Then, the logos start fading onto the screen, and the person behind you turns to their mate and says “you wanna go to Nandos after this” and you’re screaming in your head “if this person doesn’t shut up by the time all the logos have passed by and the title has flashed up, I’m going to give them a piece of my mind!”. But then, you decide not to, because you causing a fight would be even worse for everyone else than them muttering.
But then, they don’t stop, they talk all the way through, not even keeping it to the loud bits. Every scene has an underbedding of murmur and laughs and rustle, and it’s not until right in the third act that you conjure your inner lion and shout (as an example) “are you even going to ruin Iron Man’s death scene with your opinions, really?!”.
Then, the murmur stops, for a moment, with a soft whisper… but then, after the initial shock of being told of, it starts up again, and as the credits roll, you’re sat there with a face of thunder whilst the talkers jauntily wonder out of the cinema, not caring or realising that they completely ruined your cinema experience.
I remember an occasion recently where I went to my local and watched the anniversary of Alien on the big screen. “Only cinephiles will be at this screening, and I can enjoy this slow burn epic of a film in peace”, I thought. Throughout the entire film, an Italian couple were sat next to me. Now, before you stamp Brexit on this article, hear my story.
They talked throughout the ENTIRE movie. Through all the silent, steadicam shots throughout the ships, the bit where Jonesy is exploring the ship, dodging the Alien. The bit before that infamous chest buster scene. The whole thing! And why? So that one of them could give the other one who spoke less English a running directors commentary in Italian. And, what did I do? I just kept throwing dirty looks. I didn’t complain. I didn’t say anything, I just let it bother me throughout the entire epic run time that film has.
Another recent time, I went to a premiere screening of JoJo Rabbit at my local film festival. “Wonderful”, I thought, “a film festival where people love film so will be quiet and react only when there’s a laugh or a cry to be had”. I was sat on the front row, next to a middle age couple. Immediately, I knew they would be trouble.
The husband kept getting out his phone and was as quietly as his big posh voice could manage trying to arrange their dinner plans through a WhatsApp conversation for the first 10 minutes of the film. Then, Rebel Wilson comes on screen “OH” the posh wife exclaims “It’s that Australian actress”. “Mmm yes” replies the husband.
A continuation of the after-film dinner plans ensues through the husband’s phone; the wife continuously complains that being on the front row is no good for her neck; the husband then gets out a posh bar of chocolate and tries to whisper whilst chomping away. By the end of the film, I was left flabbergasted that anyone would try and arrange a Whatsapp dinner plan through a Taika Waititi film, or any film, and have to exclaim surprise every time a Nazi salute was exclaimed, to they saw an actor they recognised.
But did I say anything? No! I sat there, like a weird martyr, giving occasional dirty looks. I think this particular time was worse than the time I sat next to a Stormzy wannabe during Batman V Superman, who farted so loudly next to me, then answered his phone, to not only explain he was at the cinema, but that he did an epic butt smell.
My two questions from this rant that I’ve disguised as an article; 1) Why do people, from all backgrounds, races, genders, ages, sexual preferences feel the need to talk through films, and 2) Why do we sit there and take it (or rather, why do I sit there and take it).
What is the answer? Should cinemas set up ‘quiet screenings’ like they do in trains? Should there be a three strikes rule? Should we just accept that people are just going to talk? Should we just start talking as loudly and hope they’ll realise how annoying it is? I just remembered that time I went to watch Hungarian holocaust emotional rollercoaster Son Of Saul for it’s premiere at Cannes Film Festival, and the dude in front of me was playing tetris throughout the whole thing. Bloody hell society.
Top answers will receive a telepathic congratulatory cheer from me.
It has been 16 years since the release of Ismael Ferroukhi’s relationship dramady Le Grand Voyage, and it is as relevant today as it was back then. The film follows Reda who, despite studying for exams, agrees to take his illiterate father on a pilgrimage to Mecca from France, bay car.
This film was the first that the Saudi Arabian government agreed to film in Mecca. Up until then, it was only documentaries that were permitted.
The themes of generational gaps, religious identity and language barriers fuel this film’s touching plot, as Reda learns the ways of his father, and how, eventually, they impact his own future.
The luscious cinematography of European landscapes such as Italy, Serbia and Turkey seem very poignant in the current political climate. The constant travelling between countries the two take show how different cultures are with a quick drive through boarder control.
Nicolas Cazale’s (Reda) interpretation of teenage angst lifts the film’s comic spine, whilst Mohamed Majd (the father) plays the wise, yet insular old man brilliantly. A film like this may not work nowadays, what with fancy sat nav phones and cars that can thaw us out of a snow storm, but this must-see spiritual ‘road trip’ film is timeless in it’s own way.
The final scenes of the film in Mecca are truly awe inspiring, and quite unlike anything seen on film without the use of special effects (perhaps the easiest comparison is Gandhi). A sea of white cloth, all together in one place in unison.
So, to use a surprise Oscar winning director’s quote that seems to have been reshaped into a meaningful instagram square…’once you overcome the 1-inch-tall barrier of subtitles’ – you’ll learn to re-love some French classics?
West North West: Review. Cultures collide in Takuro Nakumara’s beautiful queer/self-discovery film West North West. The film centres on three women; a Japanese same-sex couple Kei and Ai, and a Muslim-Iranian art student Naima. Naima is quiet and unconfident, except when on the phone speaking in Persian.
These conversations are un-subtitled, with the emotion conveying the message. There is a scene early on in the film where Naima is upset on the phone in a cafe, and her emotional conversation angers the Japanese customers. This is where she meets Kei, a bartender who defends Naima’s emotional outburst and the two swiftly become friends.
During this friendship, Kei is having difficulty in sustaining her relationship with Ai, a model who. Ai is jealous and volatile, but passionate. The film follows the three women as they tackle their cultural differences, their roles in society, their sexuality and self worth.
The film peppers in long pauses, where the characters don’t know how to speak to each other. The idea of cultural and social pressures stifling emotional acts is prominent throughout, and highlights the judgements that women still face in society. The muted colour grade throughout heightens the sense of isolation, and also reflects this emotional stifling. The lack of grand shots of the city landscape adds to the intimacy of the film.
The performances are superb, particularly Sahel Rosa as Naima, who’s demure screen presence, and heart-string tugging performance is a pleasure to watch. This film is a thinker, and won’t leave a bruise from an action packed punch.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iZp1oEQ0aDk
But, it does leave you questioning your own unconscious bias, and the real difficulties of learning new things and balancing them with engraved routine and tradition.
