film reviews, interviews, features | BRWC

Author: Mark Goodyear

  • Nine Days: Another Review

    Nine Days: Another Review

    Great films find a way to take the minor happenings of the human experience and express them so poignantly that it’s as if we’re seeing them for the first time. Edson Oda’s debut feature “Nine Days” is one such film, a singularly beautiful piece of evocative cinema designed to explore what it means to live.

    We follow Will (Winston Duke), a calm and contained man whom we meet in his quaint house surrounded by ethereal desert. He sits watching television, only there are many screens, and each one shows a different POV shot. Quickly it becomes apparent that each screen represents a life in our world, and Will is who sent them there; he is a selector. In this otherworldly place, souls appear to meet selectors, in hopes that they choose them to be a lucky soul who lives. So, when Will’s favourite soul passes suddenly, her screen goes black, leaving him the solemn duty of filling the vacancy. 

    What proceeds to play out is one of film’s most powerful explorations of theology. Souls come to Will, and he commences a series of interviews to determine which one he’ll select. In between the discussions, they watch the screens to learn about life and interact with Kyo (Benedict Wong), a sort of assistant and friend to Will. At the start, there are many souls, and each comes and goes as Will names them and takes their photo. However, the bulk of Nine Days revolves around only five. They are as follows, Mike (David Rysdahl), Alexander (Tony Hale), Maria (Arianna Ortiz), Kane (Bill Skarsgård) and Emma (Zazie Beetz). Each one connects with Will in their own way as time slowly forces them to confront that if they are not selected, life as they know it ends. Here the idea of existence before birth is realised in a confronting manner; it’s a purgatory before any joy. Yet Oda embraces his sombre atmosphere, and in doing so, uncovers something undeniably hopeful about the human condition.

    With five candidates and one spot to fill, we ultimately witness the heart-shattering conversations Will must have to send away the spirits not selected. When this occurs, he offers them the chance to experience the one thing they loved most while witnessing life. As these moments come alive, so begins some of the rawest and most impactful filmmaking I’ve seen in years. Here Oda takes his blank slate souls and explores them in a fashion that proves anyone, from pessimist to optimist and all in between, can experience the simple delights of living. One asks for the pleasures of an evening at the beach, and another the glories of a bike ride down the street, and when they get these things, the realisation that is all they’ll ever live hits, and it hits hard. Both moments are profoundly moving, and they elevate Nine Days above being a platitude and into the realm of a genuine masterwork.

    Of course, this isn’t possible without the fantastic cast. The work from the entire ensemble glows with so much humanity and turmoil that they feel authentic even in their uniquely constructed world. Some are cerebral, some are blithe, others are kind, and some are too kind, but all of them are indelible, and each performance makes sure of that. The strongest of which is most certainly Duke’s. Will becomes obsessive over the death of his favourite soul, spending hours puzzling out how it is that she could die. It makes him a tortured figure as he goes about his job effectively replacing her, and Duke displays this with devastating repression and pitch-perfect sensitivity. It is the finest work of his short career, and I hope we see many more performances like it.

    Nine Days is a gorgeous cinematic musing on the meaning of life, and it makes for an auspicious debut for Edson Oda, who is sure to become a star director in the near future.

  • Peace By Chocolate: Review

    Peace By Chocolate: Review

    There’s something to the human spirit which makes it undying, and film has sought to capture this everlasting flame in near every genre. Whether it be in the haunted trenches of war or within the grasp of tumultuous romance, a distinctly human tenacity is always present. True stories are the best at conveying this, and outside of war stories, there are perhaps no purer and more uplifting tales in this vein than those of refugees fleeing home and making a life on a foreign shore. Jonathan Keijser’s “Peace by Chocolate” is one such film, and while there are more than a few bumps, the refugee success story at its core is an uplifting one. 

    This remarkable true story follows the Hadhad family, particularly father and son Issam (Hatem Ali) and Tareq (Ayham Abou Ammar). Who, along with the family matriarch, flee war-torn Syria to make their way to a small town called Antigonish in Canada. Issam was a successful chocolatier back home, so successful in fact that he owned a factory for mass production of his treats. That was until the bombs dropped and forced them from their home. In Canada, despite their newfound safety, they now face the pressures of adapting in the face of unwavering culture shock, heightened because Tareq is the only one who understands English. 

    There are a lot of little offshoots from here, which is the first hiccup the film faces. The main plot revolves around Issam using his talents to make a chocolate business once again, and this is by far the best plotline. However, to the side of that lie Tareq attempting to get into medical school, a rival chocolatier being run out of business, and the overhanging predicament that sees Issam’s daughter stuck in Syria. It’s a lot thrown into a story already stretched to feature-length to begin with, and while I’m sure there are elements of truth to all of it, together each section rarely mixes to form a coherent film. 

    There is one key reason for this, and it is the project’s greatest weakness. It’s the actors, who all put in clear efforts, only to lose their way in the same way the script does. However, there is one casting masterstroke in the case of Hatem Ali. He is at once a haunted figure desperately trying to reign his son in and constantly suffering from his inability to speak English, before revealing himself to be a loving man proud to live a life of making people happy. And Ali reflects this with a poignancy that I found particularly remarkable upon realising he was a director his whole career.

    Ammar’s is much more difficult to discuss. His work here is his acting debut, and by no means is his performance a bad one. It’s just that there are certain moments where he doesn’t appear to be feeling the weight of the narrative. Towards the end of the film, Tareq’s world falls apart as he tries to cross into the USA, but in the wake of this, he only seems mildly more frustrated than he does throughout the rest of the film. It doesn’t add up. 

    The conclusion from this is that I think this genuinely astounding story would make a better book than it does a film. There’s too much to it, too many intricacies that the film doesn’t quite manage to grasp. My biggest issue is how it highlights the arc of Tareq. Throughout, all he wants is to leave the family business and become a doctor. His reasons for doing this draw from his experiences facing war, and it’s an evident passion that he would do anything to achieve. In fact, getting this particular point across is when Peace by Chocolate is at its best. And yet, despite getting into medical school, his family continue to trap him, and for some reason, we are supposed to feel happy for him. Again, I understand this is simply the truth of what happened, but that doesn’t mean it’s a good thing, and it is most certainly presented as one.

    Peace By Chocolate has all the right ingredients, but unfortunately, it isn’t tempered quite enough to make a successful motion picture out of the powerful true story.

  • All The Streets Are Silent: Review

    All The Streets Are Silent: Review

    The documentary is the most consistent genre of filmmaking. The sheer number of high-quality docs to release each year, revolving around a nearly endless amount of creators and subjects, is astounding. So great is the power of informative filmmaking that it becomes hard to rate them; they all merge into a group of well-made films. To be truthful, I only have one way to combat this, and that is, if the subject is something I have no interest in, yet the film manages to hold my attention, the film must be good. And that is exactly the case for Jeremy Elkin’s “All the Streets Are Silent”, a piece made to explore “The convergence of Hip-Hop and Skateboarding (1987 – 1997)”. 

    As mentioned, neither topic intrigues me. However, this angle of cultural convergence does. So, when the heartfelt narration of Eli Gesner began to play, I was prepared to be absorbed and absorbed I was. Elkin’s is not a flashy documentary, nor is it a pacy one. Rather, it’s sentimental and driven by individuals who were there, on the streets of New York, witnessing this niche emerge and being a part of it. Eli personally oversaw much of it from the frontlines. He was a skater turned club promoter for “Mars”, sitting front row right at the precipice of the emerging hip-hop scene. 

    His perspective is pivotal to the success of the doc. He would skate all day and head to the club at night where DJs like Moby and Stretch Armstrong were making waves playing music yet to find wide popularity, particularly on the east coast. There are some small stories from here, and interesting though they may be, the film ultimately focuses on two figures and sparing only moments for those on the peripheral. The first is Gesner, and the second is now passed pro skater Harold Hunter. 

    Hunter was the legend in this scene. Known for his performance in Larry Clark’s “Kids” (a film born from Clark’s experience photographing skaters), he was a figure everyone with a board in NYC was drawn towards. Elkin presents him as electric, an individual who would always become the centre of attention due to pure skill and never-ending charisma. His death in 2006 makes him a tragic figure, and All the Streets are silent becomes the perfect homage to him and all he achieved during his highest point. 

    On the hip-hop side of things, we see the likes of Wu-Tang Clan and Busta Rhymes make their rise. Yet a rift began to form, and it became my only cause of concern while watching. All the Streets are Silent at times seems to investigate skateboarding and then cut to hip-hop with only a loose connection. I found it strange because it is generally common knowledge that the two went so well together, especially in the 90s.

    Then all becomes clear, we see the birth of apparel giant “Supreme”, and then we cut to when everything clicks. In the late 90s, the skateboarding magazine “Zoo York” released a tape playing host to clips of a series of tricks backed by the hip-hop those performing them dearly loved. And there is the convergence, and it is the moment the entire project works. 

    Overall, All the Streets are Silent sticks closely to its niche, which will likely deter some. But for those with a love of skateboarding or hip-hop or anyone with a love of exploring how trends emerge, Elkin’s is a documentary well worth watching. 

  • In The Heights: The BRWC Review

    In The Heights: The BRWC Review

    “In the Heights” is about igniting a flame from a dying ember. It’s about evolving culture and generations coming together to survive. It’s about love, pride, and so much more. But most of all, it’s about music, stunning and evocative music from the minds of the maestros themselves, Lin Manuel Miranda and Quiara Alegría Hudes. Directed just as poignantly and surprisingly by Jon M. Chu, In The Heights is the feel-good movie of the year and a must-watch for anyone with blood boiling to fight for something. And above all else, it’s for Latin Americans, who are powerfully celebrated here. 

    In Washington Heights, we meet awkwardly charming bodega owner Usnavi (Anthony Ramos), who wakes up every morning and looks at some photographs pinned beside his bed and says, “Best days of my life”. Those photos show him and his father when Usnavi was a young boy growing up in the Dominican Republic. Now all he wants is to go back there and revive his father’s old bar, and he saves his pennies every day to make that happen. 

    Surrounding him are a myriad of unique and fully realised characters, all with dreams just like him. There’s Vanessa (Melissa Barrera), who wants to move further into the city and become a fashion designer. There’s Kevin Rosario (Jimmy Smits) and his daughter Nina (Leslie Grace), the former wants to put his daughter through college, and the latter seeks to find where she belongs. Then there’s Piragüero (Miranda), who sells shaved ice to the kids on the block, and he just wants to be able to keep on doing exactly that. And believe me when I say there are so many more, with all of them united in the desire to save their block from being forgotten. 

    Together the massive ensemble explodes to life in every song. With each beat there is an emotion, a sensation that brings a vividness to their world. This is a fictional story about a seemingly natural occurrence in New York; the constant changing of cultures in its neighbourhoods. It’s seen in the likes of John Crowley’s “Brooklyn” and Spike Lee’s “Do the Right Thing”. But here, culture and music combine to make In the Heights distinct. With its token hip-hop style, gorgeous set pieces and undeniable Latinx flare, Chu makes the statement that yes, this has been explored before, but this is how it happened here. 

    The resounding power of that statement comes from the brilliance of the cast. Anthony Ramos is a born superstar who I fully expect to become one of those inescapable faces after his work here as Usnavi. He is at once sentimental and tragic before the next moment being an inspirational cultural leader. His duality often is perfectly brought to life by Ramos, and it will endure as a classic musical performance. Barrera too, is a star in the making, the way she embodies Vanessa is such that you can’t envision anyone else in the role. Usnavi’s cousin Sonny is another standout. The young Gregory Diaz IV captures him with all the necessary swagger and plenty of charisma. There are so many more I could name but were I to, I might never stop writing. So just know that everyone involved sings and dances their hearts out onto the screen, and all of them deserve all the praise they are receiving. Especially Jimmy Smits. It was nice seeing him performing in a blockbuster once again. 

    Narratively In the Heights sometimes feels strained. The story itself is perhaps a little stretched across a slightly overlong 153-minute runtime. But as spectacle, the film is faultless. Songs pause the main storylines a couple of times, but they are so perfectly composed that it doesn’t matter. Here is where the remarkable efforts of Chu come in. After the massive success of “Crazy Rich Asians”, he was forgiven by many for his prior high-profile misfires. But in the back of my mind, the sheer overindulgences of “G.I. Joe: Retaliation” and “Now You See Me 2” continued to play, and I was concerned when he was announced to helm the project. However, here he takes his love of extravagance and makes it something all audiences can love. Simply put, the set pieces are utterly brilliant explosions of joy and can only be produced by someone well at home in the director’s chair. 

    In the Heights is a love letter to a culture stuck in limbo, and it’s full of so much heart that anyone who watches it will come out feeling that love, which to me means it’s a great film.

  • Rare Beasts: The BRWC Review

    Rare Beasts: The BRWC Review

    Billie Piper was one of the stars of my childhood. Watching her fly across the stars as Rose Tyler in Doctor Who makes up countless memories I will cherish forever. So, when I heard she was taking up directing and that she would star alongside another favourite of mine in David Thewlis, it’s safe to say I was excited. Yet now I must write about it, and I almost wish I didn’t have to because regretfully, it misses the mark.

    Piper’s directorial debut comes in the form of an “anti-romcom” entitled “Rare Beasts”. It follows single working mother Mandy (Piper) and traditionalist Pete (Leo Bill), two opposites who strangely attract and begin a rollercoaster romance. We greet them first in an off-kilter, extremely awkward first date from hell, and things only get weirder and more intense from there. This opening scene itself is quite funny. It’s fast-paced and feels almost showy and fun with its POV shots and snappy dialogue, very Guy Richie like. The issues arise when the flashy stuff doesn’t stop and instead keeps going for 90 minutes. 

    The first 20 minutes of Rare Beasts ends up playing like a bunch of experimental footage spliced together. There are a lot of flashy tracking shots and a delirious sound mix, but not one bit of it means anything or truly impresses. As ideas, these techniques are brilliant, and the execution too is top-notch, but all the camera tricks back to back become erratic, and they don’t do anything for Mandy but distract us from her. Taking this style of filmmaking into such a genre as the romantic comedy, inverted though it may be, is not something I think can ever work. Characters in any romance need to ground the narrative and make it somewhat relatable, but Rare Beasts just gets lost overindulging itself, ultimately becoming impossible to connect to. 

    Restraint is what was desperately needed. Were some applied, the genuinely intriguing themes Piper’s script touches upon would have shined far brighter. Her story tells of the complexities of modern romance and the clashes of traditional beliefs with their contemporary counterparts; it makes for interesting discussion before falling apart in the director’s chair. The ending suffers from this most of all. Piper constructs a call to arms in her finale, a powerful reminder of the importance of looking out for oneself; however, she approaches it like David Lynch, which dissolves the whole scene into a head-scratcher.  This speaks to why the direction fails the script so much because it ruins the film’s tone.   

    As individual pieces, there are many scenes in Rare Beasts that are phenomenal, but when they are combined, there is a complete tonal mismatch. Throughout the multitude of screaming matches and random copious amounts of drugs, the only thing that remains consistent is the inconsistency which is such a shame. It’s almost as if Piper was so ready to show off all she could do that she felt she had to do it all at once, forgetting the adage that sometimes less is more. 

    Thankfully, I do have some praise to hand out. Thewlis shines as Mandy’s drunken dead-beat dad, and alongside Kerry Fox, who plays his wife, he manages to deliver the film’s only touching and cathartic moment. Bill also salvages what he can. His neurotic Pete provides most of the laughs, and it makes for a strong display.

    Overall, Rare Beasts is a film lost in trying to do too much. Billie Piper has all the right ideas; she only needs to find a better way of bringing them to life on screen.