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  • Body Of Water: Review

    Body Of Water: Review

    Body of Water Review. By Trent Neely.

    This film follows Stephanie (Siân Brooke), who has just finished a seven month stay at a treatment center for an ongoing struggle with an eating disorder. Her mother Susan (Amanda Burton) picks her up from the center and it is evident from their initial interactions that they have a long and complex history.

    Similarly, Stephanie’s daughter Pearl (Fabienne Piolini-Castle) is experiencing anger and resentment due to Stephanie’s absence, which in turn has caused her to rebel in the form of an unhealthy relationship with an older boy and even exhibiting some behaviors of having an eating disorder herself. Adding to all of this, Stephanie begins to develop feelings for Shaun (Nick Blood), the nurse supervising the progress of her recovery after leaving the treatment facility. The rest of the film centers on Stephanie striving to battle her illness in all its facets, as well as build healthy relationships with those around her.

    The film excels at rooting its story in character. Writer-director Lucy Brydon in conjunction with the performers make sure that each character feels fully fleshed-out with desires, weaknesses and intricacies. Brooke, Burton, and Piolini-Castle in particular do a great job of playing these three women as people who have a built-in love, history and conflict without having to rely on heavy amounts of exposition to help lend credence to the relationships.

    From their opening scene together, Burton portrays Susan as a woman whose heart breaks for what her daughter has been through, sadness, and even anger that she can not seem to help her more, and frustration that she does not fully understand how Stephanie can still be sick. For her part, Brooke does a superb job demonstrating how difficult fighting an illness can be. Not only does Stephanie wrestle with her eating disorder, but also depression and anger over how her illness and absence has wounded the people around her.

    While it would be tempting to play Pearl as simply just a rebellious angry teen, the script and Piolini-Castle’s performance ensures that more nuance shines through. While Pearl does start off as angry and aloof towards her mother, rejecting Stephanie’s initial attempts at reconciliation, As the film progresses, the viewer sees Pearl mature as she understands that her mother really is sick and did not simply abandon her as perhaps she once thought.

    The technical aspects of the film mostly serve mostly to highlight the character’s and performances. Director of Photography Darran Bragg’s camera mostly stays wide, allowing the actors to be the main force drawing the audience’s attention. There are a few scenes in the film where characters eat, and it unfolds in long, unbroken shots. This perfectly demonstrates not only the awkward tension for these characters as they reconnect, but also how stressful, even difficult sitting down for a meal can be for someone who is battling an eating disorder.

    Particularly one of the film’s final scenes where Stephanie gorges herself on food in an uncomfortably long shot as Rory Attwell’s score morphs into a piercing hum, giving voice to Stephanie’s stress.  When Bragg’s camera does close in, it is used to highlight a particular emotional moment, such as the few times we see Stephanie’s emaciated body. The more intimate framing of Stephanie’s figure allows the image to have a much greater impact than a wider setup would have.

    If one is looking for a film that features strong performances, layered writing, purposeful framing and an honest portrayal on how difficult battling illness can be and how it can affect many people, watch this film if given the chance.

    Body Of Water

    Body of Water – released on digital and DVD 11th January.

  • Redemption Day: Review

    Redemption Day: Review

    Meshing an action movie sensibility with real-world international strife, Hicham Hajji’s debut film Redemption Day attempts to nail a finite tonal balance. While zeitgeist ruminations centered on the Middle East oil crisis are well-intended, Hajii misguidingly molds his conceits into a stale, cookie-cutter actioner.

    Redemption Day follows Brad Paxton (Gary Dourdan), a decorated U.S. Marine captain who embarks on a daring mission to save his kidnapped wife Kate (Serinda Swan) from terrorists in Morocco. Behind the scenes, Ambassador Williams (Andy Garcia) attempts to manage the situation while maintaining his economical interest.

    There’s a shell of a meaningful experience here. Hajii’s rah-rah presentation reads of machismo jingoism at first glance, but his screenplay ultimately acts as a critique of the US’s malicious behind-the-scenes practices (throughout the hostage situation, government officials try to exploit the situation for oil). One can see how a clever filmmaker could juxtapose cheesy action frames with the hard-hitting truths buried underneath, potentially critiquing the ways our government sells its militarized identity to the populous. Hajii’s debut never displays the required craft or thought to ruminate on its subject matter.

    Even as the film wrestles with heavy ideas, Redemption Day possesses a B-movie clunkiness. Hajii confuses self-seriousness for artistic purpose, straddling the relatively flat cast with over-written diatribes that rarely ring true (Gary Dourdan brings presence, but has little to work with as the straight-laced dad dealing with PTSD). The material strains for thoughtful platitudes, yet the dramatic frames feel robotic in their overly-schematic design. Haji’s indistinct voice behind the camera doesn’t help either, as he often undercuts competent stunts with shaky camerawork and wonky special effects (the gunshot wounds clipart-level of detail took me out of the movie).

    Redemption Day never satisfies either of its genre approaches. As an action film, the been-there-done-that concept lacks the dynamism or grit to mask the obvious technical limitations. As a drama with a greater political purpose, the clunky insights rarely connect to meaningful statements. I give Hajji credit for taking risks within the action genre machinations, but his film lands in a murky morass of mediocrity in nearly every facet.

    Fans of low-rent actioners may find something to cling to, but Redemption Day‘s shallow delivery rarely conveys the promise behind its premise.

    Saban Films will release REDEMPTION DAY In Theaters January 8, 2020 and On Digital and On Demand January 12, 2020.  

  • Happy, New, Year: Weekly Round Up

    Happy, New, Year: Weekly Round Up

    Happy New Year! I’ve been absent from the weekly roundups for a couple of weeks, but fear not, I’m back now, and I’m ready to give you all the movie update goodness that you come here for (presuming that is what people come here for, and not just to read my ever so witty and beautifully written prose… no? Okay then, we’ll continue). If you’re anything like me you gave a big fat middle finger to the clusterfuck that was 2020 and are now excitedly looking forward to 2021 as the year to save us all from the dumpster fire we’ve found ourselves.

    You’ll also, again if you’re anything likely, be totally away at how ludicrous and insane that hope is, since COVID-19 doesn’t care about the year change, Boris Johnson is still the PM, and we have magically erased the last four years of America’s big old flirt with fascism, so… feel like escaping to the movies, do ya? I can’t blame you. Okay… what have we got?

    Well, first up we have some news about everyone’s favorite best worst director, Michael Bay. After directing several Transformers movies, Bay turned his hand to streaming with the Netflix project 6 Underground, which was met with, er, mixed reviews. Let’s be nice, Christmas wasn’t that long ago.

    Anyway, after his brief foray into the world of streaming, Bay is back to the theatrical experience with Ambulance, a remake of the 2005 Danish thriller Ambulancen (which means Ambulance, in case you struggled to work that one out). The film is set to star Jake Gyllenhaal, who has been attached to project since it was first announced, but we recently learned of some new cast members who will be joining Gyllenhaal on his journey.

    Perhaps the most interesting of the new casting announcements comes in the form of Yahya Abdul-Mateen II, who movie fans may recognize as Black Manta in DC and Warner Bros. big screen Aquaman adaptation, but he also appeared in HBO’s Watchman, although the less said about his role there the better. I wouldn’t want to spoil it for you. His role in the film is currently unknown.

    What we do know, however, is that he and Gyllenhaal will be joined by Eiza Gonzalez, who we will soon get to see in Godzilla vs Kong, when it eventually premieres (hopefully on the big screen and not on HBO Max or whatever the UK equivalent turns out to be… probably Sky Movies. Ugh). Gonzalez will take on the role of the ambulance drive, who finds herself held hostage by two fugitive brothers in the film.

    Let’s continue on this action path for a moment. No doubt over the Christmas period you were subjected to some for of the argument around Die Hard. Is it or is it not a Christmas movie? Personally, I couldn’t give a shit – if you watch it at Christmas then it’s a Christmas movie, and how very un-Christmassy of you if you tell people they’re beloved holiday traditions are somehow incorrect – but what also interests me is the that other major 80s actions blockbuster set at Christmas that deals in Christmas themes never really gets brought up in the discourse. That’s right, folks, we’re talking about Lethal Weapon!

    The Lethal Weapon franchise has long been a favorite for many people, even though one of its stars has since gone on to become… problematic, shall we say, and so talk of a fifth entry to the series has long been thrown around. With the arrival of the God-awful TV reboot not too long ago, however, it seemed that all hope was lost, that is until this week when franchise directed Richard Donner, in an article for The Torygraph… er, sorry, Telegraph (hey! The article’s behind a paywall and yet they still have ads. Fuck them!), revealed that despite likely being 91 years old when he finally yells action, he’s not only willing but ready to take on the reins and return to the series.

    Last January we heard from producer Dan Lin that progress on the potential fifth entry was closer than ever, but with these news words from Donner himself, who seems totally unphased by the challenges from bringing a long dead franchise that stars ageing and problematic actors back to the big screen, it looks like the movie is still very much a priority.

    Finally, let’s return to the pandemic for a moment. No, not the actual pandemic, the fictional one dreamt up by Steven Soderberg and Scott Z Burns in their 2011 thriller Contagion. Unsurprisingly, Contagion returned to popular culture last year, because apparently, we all enjoy using an escapist media to… watch what is happening outside the window?

    Anyway, perhaps it’ll come as no surprise then that Soderberg and Burns have been busy working on what they’ve referred to as a “philosophical sequel” to the 2011 film. As Soderberg himself revealed on the Happy Sad Confused Podcast, “You’ll kind of look at the two of them as kind of paired but very different hair colours. So, Scott and I had been talking about, ‘So, what’s the next iteration of a Contagion-type story?’ We have been working on that. We should probably hotfoot it a little bit.”

    What that means I have no idea, but it’s certainly a tantalizing prospect. Contagion, if you remember, starred an impressive roster of A-list talent, including Matt Damon, Kate Winslet, Gwyneth Paltrow, and Jude Law, so expect some big names to sign on to this one too.

    I just hope it doesn’t also turn out to be a blueprint for what the future holds.

  • This Is Not A Movie: Review

    This Is Not A Movie: Review

    This Is Not A Movie: Review. A retrospective on the life and career of journalist extraordinaire Robert Fisk. By Ray Lobo.

    Early in This is Not a Movie Robert Fisk’s Syrian army escorts inform him that they are driving through a road in Idlib province dotted with rebel Al-Nusra Front snipers. Death can be as swift and final as a well-timed bullet through a car window. Fisk casually looks at the passing scenery and continues writing on his notepad. For Fisk, fear is an old pen that ran out of ink a long time ago and was mindlessly discarded; it is of no use. On first appearance, one may be tempted to classify Fisk as yet another cynical war correspondent who has seen endless atrocities and has been made numb by them; however, that classification does not apply to Fisk.

    Canadian director Yung Chang brilliantly captures Fisk’s many layers. We see Fisk’s compassion when interviewing civilians caught in war’s crossfire, we can feel Fisk’s passion for the Middle East and his profession, and we catch a glimpse of Fisk’s anger over complacent leaders that allow human tragedies to recur. If journalistic Truth is Fisk’s goal, it would be disingenuous of him to report on a war, or any human tragedy, in a tone of just-the-facts neutrality. If holistic Truth — which obviously includes empirical facts — is the goal, Fisk attempts to attain it by including moral and emotional shadings in his writing. As he puts it, “I am on the side of those who suffer. I am a nerve ending and not a machine.”

    Courage is a prerequisite for any war correspondent. In Fisk’s case, it is not limited to his unflinching attitude in getting a story even if it requires braving Al-Nusra sniper bullets. Chang covers the full narrative arc of Fisk’s career starting in Belfast, where Fisk reported for The London Times at the peak of The Troubles. Fisk’s reports often ran contrary to the official spin disseminated by British political and military authorities. When Rupert Murdoch bought The Times Fisk gained firsthand experience of corporate meddling in editorial decisions. Murdoch refused to run a column by Fisk which pointed to the deliberate shooting down of an Iranian passenger plane by a US cruiser missile. Fisk decided he was not going to risk his life reporting from the front lines of conflict zones for a paper that did not have the courage to print columns that offended the sensibilities of US officials and their allies. He left The Times for The Independent — a paper founded against the Murdochs of the world.

    When your reporting takes you to Belfast, to the Iraqi front lines in the war against Iran, to the Palestinian refugee camps of Sabra and Shatila in Beirut, to Bosnia, to Syria; you gain a lot of sources, friends, and readers of your columns. You also gain a lot of enemies — these are after all high stake conflict zones . Fisk has been accused of everything — being too pro-Muslim, being too pro-West, being too pro-Palestinian, being too pro-Israeli, being too pro-Assad, being too pro-Syrian rebel forces.

    Chang’s documentary does not shy away from moments in Fisk’s career in which he faced severe criticism for what he deemed to be the truth. Fisk controversially reported that while there was evidence that in several instances Assad used chemical weapons on his own people, there was no evidence that Assad used sarin in the city of Douma. A fact-finding mission led by The Organisation for the Prohibition of Chemical Weapons (OPCW) issued a report that chlorine gas was in fact used in Douma by Assad’s forces. Did Fisk get this story wrong? Did his sources lead him astray? Were there lapses in his reporting of the Douma incident? We will never entirely know the answer. Chang, to his credit, raises these doubts. Chang is not afraid to show that fallibility is always an occupational hazard in journalism.

    Chang gets Fisk to admit on camera that it was his viewing as a boy of the Alfred Hitchcock movie Foreign Correspondent that glamorized and made him fall in love with the idea of one day becoming a war correspondent. The child that was seduced by movie glamor transformed into the adult driven to truth gathering in grimy war zones. It is this adult Fisk that is driven to report to Western audiences the unfiltered voices of the Middle East, voices too long warped by colonialist fantasies and Western arrogance — this is perhaps why he decided to live in Beirut and not London. One of the most poignant moments in the documentary comes when a soldier asks Fisk if he has ever suffered from PTSD. Fisk answers he has never had a nightmare save for one. He had his only nightmare after having to climb over dead bodies in the aftermath of the butchery in the Sabra and Shatila refugee camps. Indeed, there is no glamor in being a war correspondent, as the documentary’s title indicates, this is not a movie.

    Robert Fisk died in October of 2020. The world lost a journalism giant. The release of Chang’s documentary faced difficulties in its worldwide release because of the Covid outbreak in early 2020. Few saw This is Not a Movie. The question may be asked: who would want to seek out a documentary that deals with war and carnage when so many are struggling physically and psychologically with the Covid pandemic? It is a fair question; however, a question still deserving of a response. This is Not a Movie is worth seeking out because there are overlaps between wars and pandemics — falsification of truth, the suffering of the most vulnerable, etc. One must not forget that Camus’ The Plague was an allegory for the French resistance during Nazi occupation. Just like Camus wrestles with existential themes in The Plague, war coverage made Fisk ponder existential ideas: “You will always find ashes in history…. Something inside us permits this [war]…. War is a total failure of the human spirit…. We do not get the bad guys at the end…. What we [war correspondents] write may make no difference.”

    Doctors trying to treat Covid patients while more line up outside the hospital, and war correspondents covering a war while knowing full well that there is another war waiting in the wings, are engaged in deflating endeavors. Camus and Fisk were both aware of their heavy burdens and the need to continue pushing their boulders. We are continually tested to do the same.

  • Sylvie’s Love: Review

    Sylvie’s Love: Review

    Tapping into the refined charms of old-school romances, Amazon’s latest Sylvie’s Love isn’t merely an homage to a foregone period in film. Writer/Director Eugene Ashe recontextualizes this whitewashed period with charming results, placing the authentic struggles of black dreamers at the forefront in a refreshingly light romance.

    Set between the 1950s/1960s, Sylvie’s Love follows Sylvie (Tessa Thompson) and Robert (Nnamdi Asomugha). The two aspire to reach groundbreaking plateaus in their respective fields, with Robert’s saxophone play gaining attention while Sylvie dreams of being a TV producer. Their love ignites a sweeping romance that transcends changing times, geography, and professional success.

    Ashe’s decision to morph the strife of 20th century black Americans into a story of humanity and hope breeds new layers into a seemingly familiar set-up. While racism and civil rights are never in the forefront, his film keeps these struggles in the peripheral as Sylvie and Robert dream in a time where those conceits often took a back seat. Ashe’s approach imbues more authenticity and agency than your typically agreeable romance, with the filmmaker nailing a balance between the genre’s romanticized allures and the character’s real-world steaks.

    Sylvie’s Love indulges in some lavish craftsmanship. From the soothing zeitgeist songs to Ashe’s patient framing, each scene portrays its setting with an engaging liveliness. Where some period films feel overly-dressed in cosmetics, Ashe allows his setting to breathe with well-thought textures that convey a classic aura. Stars Tessa Thompson and Nnamdi Asomugha’s charismatic performances also effectively command the screen. The actors share a subdued, yet palpable chemistry that resonates through the tried and true romance.

    I was won over by Sylvie’s Love simple appeals, but some of that likable energy becomes overwhelmed by the film’s structure. The concept of dividing the two halves into different eras (one half in 1957 the other in 1962) has promise, but Ashe can’t quite balance the narrative evenly. The second half suffers from a frustrating case of whiplash, throwing a plethora of melodramatic plot turns without allowing these frames to properly develop (a divorce, death, and career change happen in a ten-minute span). Sometimes less can be more, especially when the film’s core elements are already so well-done.

    Sylvie’s Love may not hit all the right notes, but Eugene Ashe’s film cleverly reinvents its genre framework with a well-defined lens. In an awards season that boasts several heavy-handed films, this is refreshing escapism for eager audiences.

    Sylvie’s Love is now available on Amazon Prime.