Author: Thomas White

The Fence is a retro comedy-drama set in and around the streets of Bristol in the 1980’s. 

Steven Knight (David Perkins) gets a new motorbike which is promptly stolen from outside his house. He and his ragtag bunch of reprobate friends set off to recover it and track down the elusive ‘fence’ who was responsible. 

The plot is simple and formulaic, an expanded version of Stone’s original 2018 short of the same name and premise. Its characters are an entertaining collection of cliches, making up for what they lack in depth with charisma and winning charm. 

The film is lightweight in tone, shot with an affectionate, rose-tinted image of 80’s culture which is notably reflected in the costumes and soundtrack. It will no doubt appeal to viewers who feel a nostalgia for the period and who maybe grew up during that time. 

It does touch upon heavier issues, conventionally prevalent in the community, such as drug abuse, but these are not the focus and are glossed over so as not to dampen the mood. They exist more as side notes, something to fill the otherwise thin narrative. 

Indeed, the criminality, around which the story itself revolves, is waggish and jocular. A freewheeling caper of jolly japes and high jinx, safe in its hilarity and comedic tone. 

The Fence is feel good fun. An easy watch with some genuinely funny moments, even though you can see a lot of the jokes coming from a mile off. Still, it’s a pleasant way to pass the time and it doesn’t outstay its welcome. 

Both Sides Of The Blade: Review

Radio presenter Sara (Juliette Binoche) lives in Paris with her long-time partner Jean (Vincent Lindon), a former rugby player with a criminal record. A chance encounter brings Jean’s once close friend and colleague, François (Grégoire Colin), back into their lives. He also happens to be Sara’s former lover. So begins a complex love triangle that threatens to disrupt the couple’s status quo. 

Director Claire Denis delivers an ill-fated, romantic, toxic melodrama, starring three of her regular collaborators and some of France’s finest working talent. This is Colin’s seventh film with Denis, Binoche and Lindon have both worked with her twice before, in different films. 

We are introduced to the couple swimming in the sea while on holiday. Their affectionate, tender caresses, intensified by Éric Gautier’s gorgeously dreamy and mellow cinematography, suggest a blissful relationship. On their return to Paris, however, it is back to reality and it soon becomes apparent that this idealistic relationship in not all it seems.

Binoche gives a superbly raw, nuanced performance as the increasingly duplicitous woman torn between two lovers. Lindon and Colin display machismo but also fragility as the two men vying for her devotion and fidelity. Denis takes care not to let us side with any one character, all of whom at some time show not just their flaws but also their capacity for spite, acrimony and flagrant unscrupulousness. 

Enjoyable as it is to watch these performances on screen, the pace does drag in places. The film’s overall style is very naturalistic and not afraid to take its time, but Denis has a tendency here to draw-out scenes once they have already delivered their intention. 

Another downside I felt had to do with the soundtrack, provided by regular Denis collaborators Tindersticks. More often than not the music was overbearing and distracted from the performances, particularly of the two leads, who are more than capable themselves of communicating the complexities of the narrative without a score which was overdone. 

Not only was it a distraction but also frustrating, as the scenes without it carried a lot more weight and focus. One of the most effective scenes, in which Lindon has a weighty conversation with his son Marcus, was played without music. Having the score drop out here made the significance of the moment so much more impactful. It was a decision from which the rest of the film could have benefited. 

Aside from the over-scoring and the occasional slump in pace it is still an engaging and tense film worth sticking with, and to be fair the narrative does pick up as it progresses. Thankfully Denis concludes the resulting aftermath without sentiment or, worse, a happy ending. Instead she delivers some deserved retribution and just a little hope. 

Chris Sivertson’s supernatural thriller has the look and feel of a horror movie. It follows similar tropes and plot devices, not to mention the scenario itself; Laura (Christina Ricci) and her 7-year-old son Cody (Santino Barnard) flee her abusive ex-husband to an isolated lakeside house in California.

The film opens with Laura and Cody driving across country to their new abode. The period detail is stunning. The costumes, set-design and sun-drenched locations are filmed in bright, warm pastel shades. It’s breezily atmospheric, the mystery and tension still yet to come, slowly building as events unfold.

Settling into their new life proves difficult. Cody is alienated at school while Laura receives much disdain from the owners of her new house. Left to fend for themselves, their bond is solidified by their dependancy on each other.

The supernatural elements begin when Cody starts seeing ghostly apparitions coming from the lake and around the house, though there is less emphasis on a tangible presence than on Laura and Cody themselves. Indeed, throughout the film it is with them whom we spend the most time, allowing us to sympathise and become invested in their plight.

In this way the story doesn’t adhere strictly to the conventional horror formula as its appearance initially suggests, relying more upon the psychological state of mind, particularly of Laura, as opposed to jump-scares or special-effects, and is all the better for it.

Ricci carries the film pretty much singlehandedly. It’s a strong performance and she is a pleasure to watch. The close relationship between mother and son is palpable, played with a nice mix of overprotectiveness coupled with her own anxiety.

From the outset Sivertson establishes a solid background and plot. It is unfortunate that the pace drags towards the third act, veering off course as Laura becomes increasingly confused and delusional in her own mind. This minor flaw aside, Monstrous is an intriguingly haunting and melancholy mystery which holds the interest right up to its unpredicted payoff.

Writer/director Laura Wendel’s debut feature explores children’s savagery and exclusion in the playground, and whether what may feel like the right thing to do might not always necessarily be for the best. 

No-one likes a bully. Neither the victim nor the person seeing it happen. In this case it is Nora (Maya Vanderbeque) who witnesses her older brother Abel (Günter Duret) being systematically victimised by a group of boys in their school playground. Rushing to his aid he pushes her away and tells her to not get involved, leaving her with a painful dilemma; should she report the abuse or remain loyal to her brother, leaving them both to endure a shared misery? 

The atmosphere is immersive and claustrophobic. The camera follows Nora exclusively, even staying at her height, passing from situation to situation. She is in every frame, which although effectively highlights the isolation of her predicament, quickly becomes distracting. Being allowed to observe the other characters from a more neutral perspective, other than just Nora’s viewpoint, would perhaps have given a more enriching, broader picture. 

Deplorable and distressing as Abel’s victimisation is, and although feeling a fair amount of empathy for his justifiably melancholic disposition, I found it hard to root for him. He comes across as quite mean-spirited and even rather cruel to Nora, as she gets increasingly involved, ultimately leading us to feel more sympathy towards her. After all, she also has to suffer the indignation of her own friends after they find out her brother is being humiliated and ostracised. 

Playground is a grim, harsh look at bullying and the repercussions of taking action against it. Hard-hitting, though often one-sided and without much character background, it tackles a serious and always relevant subject, asking questions and provoking thought.