Author: Mark Goodyear

Opus Zero: Review.

Discussing the worlds big questions of life and death in film is no easy feat. It is so easy to ramble your answers into an echo chamber, only to realise you didn’t have anything to say. Daniel Graham’s “Opus Zero” falls victim to this, yet it remains an undeniably beautiful film. What little story there is revolves around Paul (Willem Defoe), a composer seemingly looking for a meaning in life that is impossible to find.

He arrives at a remote Mexican village after his father’s death but has missed the funeral and does not seem too focused on grieving. Instead, he searches for a girl in a photo his father gave him for reasons not known to him. Paul refuses to accept that anyone can completely disappear from history, so he feels he has to find this girl. However, when all proves fruitless, he is simply a lost soul in the streets of a Mexican town.

Paul is a frustrating protagonist; his methods of self-expression, particularly his speech, are almost entirely archaic. He is not the only character guilty of this. Most of the cast like to speak in a sort of free verse poetry, but they very rarely have anything profound to say. The film masquerades as philosophy and only manages to come across as strange. There are one or two moments where Defoe manages to pull it off, and a vibrant mystique fills the screen begging for any line to be brave enough to delve into it further and yet nothing comes of it.

Following the narrative is a struggle, it is hard to tell what the message is, and considering all Opus Zero has to offer is insight, this is a destructive issue. Saying that this movie is inaccessible to most audiences would be an understatement, and I’m not saying every film needs to pander to the masses, but when making a film, a potential audience should be in mind and in this case it appears that didn’t happen. 

Opus Zero (Trailer) from Matías Penachino on Vimeo.

Utilising cinematography to isolate your characters in their own worlds is always enjoyable to watch when done well. This is what Opus Zero does spectacularly well. Every slightly hammed-up philosophy lesson has a wondrous view to go along with it. Cinematographer Matias Penachino has managed to capture a real sense of beauty in the bleak environments around this Mexican town. There are plenty of shots that linger for far too long, but it is hard to be too upset when what they show us is so unflinchingly stunning. It’s a shame that the script couldn’t back up the work done here, had it done the message could have transcended boundaries, which is what I think Graham was going for, but the film never manages to achieve this. 

Opus Zero’s major downfall is its lack of any discernible story. It is a husk of a film, with a beautiful and robust foundation that is entirely void of anything else. The concept wasn’t the issue, it has been pulled off many times before, but each of those times there has been a clear narrative path to follow. Take Terrence Malick’s “The Tree Of Life” for instance, the entire narration of that film is actual philosophical poetry, but it is used to flow the story along and to emphasise a clear yet conceptually significant message.

Opus Zero’s dialogue opts not to have a story and fails to make clear what it is trying to say. I think for his debut feature Graham has aimed too high and fell flat, regardless the talent is still clearly there; the issue is in the expression not the thinking behind it. 

Willem Defoe is making a habit of popping up where no one expects him, and it is excellent for the film industry that he is. He has buoyed the low budget films he’s been appearing in to no end, and this one is no exception. Opus Zero is far from his best work in recent times, but it is still a strong outing for the veteran actor. The script often proves too much for him to overcome, but the effort is still clear to see.

Defoe tries just as hard as every other aspect of this film to say something worth saying, and that is admirable. There is an interview scene in the second half of the film, and I think it is the best scene in the entire film. Here Defoe encompassed Paul perfectly and had the rest of the film dug so deeply as this scene does, I think it would have been a far more enjoyable experience. 

Opus Zero doesn’t lack beauty, but its absence of a story is unforgivable. There is little to be gained by its constant philosophical teachings despite the apparent effort to speak to whoever sees it. All the right elements are there to suggest that Daniel Graham is a more than capable filmmaker who could very well make a movie that achieves transcendence, but this one isn’t it.

Danger Close: The Battle of Long Tan Review.

Depicting the horrors of the Vietnam War has been the goal of some of the finest films ever to grace the silver screen. Each one of them has told of its needlessness and violence without holding back. Now it is time for Australia to properly add its voice to this medium of storytelling on the topic. “Danger Close: The Battle of Long Tan” recalls the battle that saw 108 brave ANZAC soldiers, many of whom were conscripts, take on an estimated Viet Cong force of over 1000 in the rubber plantation of Long Tan during the Vietnam War.

It is a story that often falls on deaf ears due to it being the most unpopular war in the history of Australia. However, that makes it only all the more important to tell. Director Kriv Stenders tasked himself with glorifying and further immortalising these men, and when all is said and done, I believe he has done just that. 

The story from a historical standpoint is relatively accurate and straightforward in its approach. From a character standpoint, the men come off as both familiar and unique at the same time. The archetypes form quickly. For instance, Travis Fimmel’s redemption character Major Harry Smith and Richard Roxburgh’s grizzled and stubborn Brigadier David Jackson, but the way Stenders has opted to present them is refreshing.

Within this context, we are subject to an atmosphere riddled with Australian colloquialisms and classic humour that manages to shine enough new light on these familiar individuals. The performances enhance this to no end, with the aforementioned Fimmel and Roxburgh being standouts in an excellent ensemble. Luke Bracey is also worth mentioning as Sergeant Bob Buick. He nails the endearing war hero so well that I believe this is the best performance of his young career. 

Strangely enough, the highest praise I can give the performances is that most of them are underwhelming throughout the opening. It is hard to say why this is, possibly the distinctly Australian tone clashing with the setting, or challenges with production allocating time to filming this section. Regardless this evolves into a miraculous strength. The emotional bonds that are able to form as the story progresses combine with this shaky beginning to further emphasise the growth of the characters.

The primary goal of this movie, as it is with most war movies, is to make clear that one of the significant casualties of war is youth just as much as lives. Seeing these young men, each of whom is inspired by their real-life counterpart, forced to evolve so drastically is what makes Danger Close the pleasant tribute that it is. Once the battle begins, their baptism of fire becomes the films greatest asset and sparks the characters to life as they embrace their tragedy.

With the depiction of the battle, Stenders has opted to be as direct as possible. Which serves to honour the heroes to no end; however, it does feel as though it is something we have seen before. The lifelessness of the enemy becomes a slight issue, and the violent impact is lacking in certain key moments. The initial period of the battle begins with a bang, but it can’t help but stagnate as it drags on.

There was no genuine attempt to break new ground within the genre, which is a shame because I think those involved were more than capable of achieving that. Thankfully the emotional impact doesn’t suffer because of this, that aspect remains firmly intact thanks to the exceptional performances. When the few moments where the combat and the emotion combine come around the most stimulating portions of the entire film play and form the most respectful Australian film tribute to its heroes in years. 

There are two technical aspects of this film that are entirely mesmerising throughout with how beautiful they are. The cinematography of Ben Nott and Caitlin Yeo’s score combine to form some gorgeous moments briefly reminiscent of the stunning images and music of “The Thin Red Line”. These two aspects are just as crucial to expressing emotion as the performances are, and when they all come together, it is impossible not to be impressed.

It is a depiction of war that, at times, is violent and aggressive, yet, at least on the Australian side of things, is not exploitation depicting mindless drones of war. Stenders most prominent success on his end is that he ensured each brave Australian is a Man first and a soldier second, something that is so easy to miss in war films.

As the credits roll, I think anyone who sees Danger Close will be left dwelling on the typical giant questions like “Why were we there?” and “Was it worth it?”. However, above all else, they will think upon the battle of Long Tan and how young conscripts made the impossible possible. All involved should take a bow for telling the story as respectfully as they have. The stunning technical achievements and the supremely respectful performances elevate Danger Close: The Battle of Long Tan above its run of the mill storytelling.

Surviving Confession Review.

Discerning and evaluating the nature of inner conflict can make for an entertaining and enlightening movie experience. Should audience members walk out of the cinema with new insight and the impulse to have a conversation, then the filmmaker has achieved their goal. However, if undertaking this investigation, and coming to a result that garners no progress from where we began, then the filmmaker has failed. After viewing “Surviving Confession” there is no beating around the bush, director Matthew Tibbenham has failed.

Surviving Confession tells the story of Father Morris (Clayton Nemrow), a conflicted and fourth wall breaking priest who has come to despise the sacrament of reconciliation. Not because he doesn’t see its importance, but because he finds it unbelievably frustrating that his parishioners repeat their sins every week. Throughout one evening in his confession room, Father Morris battles his wavering faith with a revolving cast of believers looking to confess, along with one girl who won’t leave him alone. That girl is Amber, (Jessica Lynn Parsons), a disgruntled youth who comes to confession but refuses to confess, hiding her dark past in the process. 

Above all its other flaws, Nathan Shane Miller’s script is the biggest. For all its religious links and debate over the pros and cons of the church Surviving Confession has astoundingly little to say. At no stage does the film make up its mind about any of the issues it presents and provides nowhere near enough depth for us to alter any of our stances.

It plays like an overview of things we already knew but presents it like it is new-age thinking. All culminating in a severely melodramatic finale that becomes more humorous than impactful or sad. The final twist is nothing to laugh at, but it is the straw that breaks the camel’s back. The ending was shaping to be where the film finally clearly stated its opinion after being nothing but contradictory arguments all the way through. Instead, it is an empty and over the top ending that fails to provide closure for either characters or audience. 

The performances are hot and cold, but in saying that I must highlight Nemrow and Parsons who work terrifically well together. They have a bouncy chemistry with one another that makes the concept work as best it can for small periods. Nemrow shines particularly bright and carries half the movie on his back as a result. For almost the entire film, we never leave the confessional room where Father Morris sets up at the beginning. The rest of the cast is made up of amateur actors coming in to confess their sins to Father Morris, and this doesn’t work.

They are often depicted in tight unwavering close-ups as they present their deeply unrealistic depiction of Confession. Each one falls flat, we do not know these characters enough for them to be presenting their troubles to us so passionately, and almost all of them are deeply flawed. Overall Surviving Confession is overly pessimistic for no discernible reason, and that is a big issue. Its view of the world is a cold one, and its unfunny humour fails to come close to lightening the mood. 

The score manages to elevate moments above the mindless monologues that would have been happening otherwise. It becomes the only real aspect to generate any empathy in the entire endeavour. The concept alone is one that could easily have inspired many different emotions.

Father Morris wrestling with the idea that he is wasting his life could have made for a compelling movie. However, the only thought I had when the film was over was “why would someone like that ever become a priest?”. Throughout, almost every decision Father Morris makes appears to be the objectively wrong one, and certainly not one an actual priest would make. By the end, the film numbs itself from emotion and tries to claw it back missing the mark by a long way in the process. 

Surviving Confession manages to say nothing about surviving or confession in any sense. Throwing the major twists all into the final sequence was a disastrous decision and resulted in throwing any overarching message out the window. Clayton Nemrow gets a platform to shine, but outside of that Surviving Confession offers very little.

The Bromley Boys Review.

Supporting a terrible football club is not easy. There is a strange phenomenon that occurs between matches when you support one. You watch your team lose, usually by a substantial margin, write off any chance of them getting better anytime soon, and still come back and watch them next week. At times it resonates more with Einstein’s definition of insanity than anything else. Director Steve Kelly explores this with his newest film that adapts the memoir of David Roberts (Brenock O’Connor), a man who found himself supporting one of Britain’s worst football clubs in 1970, Bromley FC.

The premise of this movie is a fun one. David is a friendless and partially neurotic 15-year-old boy. It’s not that he doesn’t want to make friends, it’s that none of them wants to see Bromley play with him, and it’s hard to blame them. With half of the team players being old and out of shape Bromley are woeful when it comes to game day, and their only real prospect in 1970 is avoiding relegation. Regardless, as the film states, ‘you can’t choose who you’re going to fall in love with’ and with that said David’s undying love for Bromley FC leads him to friendship, a girlfriend and a chance to become a football manager. 

As fun as the plot is, it’s difficult to highlight much to praise in the execution. Everything is too run of the mill. Kelly appears satisfied with allowing The Bromley Boys to wander off to its conclusion without anything unpredictable occurring. From start to finish the film plays as if all too happy to tick off movie tropes and crack jokes about it along the way. All in all, this makes what seemed a somewhat original concept play like it’s entirely unoriginal and that detracts from the experience drastically. 

The humour is only sporadically funny, in saying that, when the jokes land it can be quite hilarious. I found the trio of friends David makes to be the most amusing. Roy Oliver (TJ Herbert), Peter Batchelor (Mark Dymond) and Derek Dobson (Ewen MacIntosh) are three fans who become friends with David thanks to their mutual interest. They combine to have the best laughs of the movie, which is why it’s so disappointing that the script fails to utilise them. Understandably, a movie based on David’s memoirs is primarily about David, but the fact remains that even with the charming and witty daughter of the club owner Ruby McQueen (Savannah Baker) by his side he’s just not funny enough.

“Show don’t tell” is a basic storytelling rule that “The Bromley Boys” has a difficult time following. There is a decent flow and pace to the narrative, which works rather well, but the cost is that the characters like to hit us over the head with every revelation and twist. There is an entire scene where the major twist is explained outright through dialogue, and it was blatantly jarring. These characters are likeable and funny at moments; there just needed to be more from them in terms of carrying the story by their actions, not their words.

The performances are all up to scratch, but the casting in one instance is rather strange. Comedian Alan Davies is in the only non-funny role in the entire film, David’s father. He manages it just fine, but it’s altogether strange he’s there. By trade, his job is to be funny, and he’s quite good at it. He easily could have slid into any number of other roles that would have seen him shine far brighter. Suffice to say that his presence in the film only serves to allow us to wonder what could have been. Outside of this O’Conner and Baker make for a winning couple, despite the fact they are so mismatched it’s entirely unrealistic, the two young performers manage to make it work.

The tone is the film’s final issue. The dramatic side of the film revolves around how connected David has become to the club. Their failure directly impacts his life for the worse. This rollercoaster is the films strongest narrative point; it makes for a unique look at desperation, one that in the final moments is almost pulled off.

Unfortunately, by the end, it’s hard not to think that it falls short. It’s clear why this comedy film doesn’t spend more time on this, but I can’t help but feel they should have. As a result, this tonal change towards the end is quite stark and doesn’t work so well as the director intended. Nevertheless, it’s a strong concept slightly reminiscent of a very watered-down version of Robert De Niro’s character from The Silver Linings Playbook.

Overall The Bromley Boys always manages to slip itself up whenever it gets going. Had there been more method to the madness, this could have been an enjoyable heart-warmer, but it misses that mark. There are still aspects here to like and some genuinely funny moments, but ragged tonal changes and a blunt unimaginative twist see The Bromley Boys relegated to a missed opportunity. 

The Keeper: The BRWC Review.

Forgiveness is innately human. We are all capable of it, and we have all sought it out at some point in our lives. It is not always straightforward though; some actions are so dark and twisted that forgiving them takes a monumental effort. One of the most significant examples of the power of forgiveness is the story of Bert Trautmann (David Kross). When Trautmann first arrived in Britain, he was a prisoner of war caught in the dying months of the Second World War. He had joined the Nazi army of his own ignorant volition and went on to earn the Iron Cross. If someone were only to know this about Bert and nothing else, then his Order of The British Empire, awarded to him in 2004, would sound like complete insanity. The gap between is where director Marcus H. Rosenmüller’s newest film comes in. 

Appropriately named “The Keeper” this sports biopic is light on football and high in drama. This decision was the right one as although the script is lacking in certain vital aspects of Bert’s life, it is entirely brilliant and evocative. The discourse on just how hard it is to forgive someone for being apart of the cruellest regime in human history works incredibly well. Bert’s eventual wife Margate (Freya Mavor) is the perfect example of this. She starts out hating Bert; he was on the side of the men that took away countless British lives and committed many other atrocities. She says it best when she berates him, telling him that he stole the youth of the young men and women of Britain and that being good at football will not change that. Margate’s forgiveness is as much the heart of this story as Bert himself, and that strengthens the film to no end. She is the perfect representation of how the world came to embrace him. 

The uniting power of sport is the most moving part of any sports film. There is something about the struggle and triumph of athletes that will always be endearing. The biggest strength of “The Keeper” is that it combines athletic heroics with the aforementioned complicated forgiveness. It elevates the sporting sequences to a whole new level of emotion. This is not a run of the mill underdog story; this is the most hated person in Manchester becoming a hero for Manchester City despite 20,000 people, many of whom were Jewish, protesting when he signed for the club. If I did not know it was true, I would struggle to believe it. 

The performances are what drive this more so than anything else. Kross and Mavor have instant chemistry that flows at the perfect level throughout. Once married, they shine all the brighter and carry the hefty weight of the drama to the end without missing a beat. Marvor, in particular, tugs at the heartstrings. She has numerous moments to command the screen, and she pulls it off every time and in captivating fashion. Her speech to the people of Manchester pleading and debating with them as to why they should forgive her husband is spectacularly moving. Another noteworthy performance is that of Harry Melling as “Sergeant Smythe” who is both detestable and engaging in his role. He rules his concentration camp without compassion, and when all is said and done, it is almost impossible to say if we should condemn him for that or not. 

The score is beautiful and successfully encompasses the trauma to triumph tale that “The Keeper” is. Musical scores endeavour to elevate every aspect of the screen, and composer Gerd Baumann has achieved that here. 

The direction is the films only notable hiccup. The overall approach of the movie is rather straight forward and respectful. Unfortunately, some small periods slide past without much impact as a result of this. The presentation of such a complex script in such a straightforward manner is also unfortunate. More could have been said with the movie had the right risks been taken at the right moments. However, Rosenmüller treads lightly with his subjects, as so many directors of biopics do. It is worth noting testing the waters by utilising a faster pace and more engaging direction very quickly could have stifled a story very much worth telling well. If the leisurely pace is the price that must be paid to avoid disaster than in this case, I am more than happy to pay it. 

“The Keeper” finds the perfect way to articulate the substantial power of forgiveness. This sports biopic may go easy on the sport, but the emotion still manages to soar as high as the Bert himself did between the posts. Rosenmüller’s approach to the film may have been safe, but that is not enough to overly damage this moving cinema experience.