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  • The Nest: Review

    The Nest: Review

    Debuting at this year’s Sundance Film Fest, The Nest is writer/director Sean Durkin’s long-awaited follow-up to 2011’s chilling character piece Martha Marcy May Marlene. While that film did not register a sizable impact at the box office, it’s cathartic impact still lingers with audiences today, serving as a breakout for star Elizabeth Olsen. Implementing a similar slow-burn approach, The Nest elicits a thoughtful deconstruction of the family structure through its standout performance work.

    The Nest follows Rory (Jude Law) and Allison (Carrie Coon), a couple happily living in America with their nuclear family unit (Charlie Shotwell plays Benjamin and Oona Rocha plays Samantha, Allison’s daughter from a previous relationship). Their picturesque lifestyle seemingly evaporates when Rory’s ambition drives the family to London, as the move slowly unveils their disconnected dynamics.

    Both Jude Law and Carrie Coon demonstrate their assured abilities with two tantalizing parts. Rory’s smarmy and slick charms are tailor-made for Law’s charismatic delivery, with the actor nestling into the kind of role he’s made a career out of playing (Contagion and Closer come to mind). Thankfully, this film allows Law to explore this persona with proper nuance, masterfully tapping into the shallowness and insecurity that motivates his self-serving actions. Coon provides the emotional anchor as Allison, a discontented housewife trying to maintain a sense of identity despite Rory’s overbearing control. Her voice incrementally grows throughout the duration, leading to tense sparring matches over the couple’s disillusioned lifestyle. These frames pack the film’s marquee moments, featuring two acting heavyweights going toe-to-toe with raw authenticity.

    Despite a decade-long wait, Sean Durkin’s finite ability remains intact. His script and direction work with intimate intricacy, utilizing every frame to steadily build upon the faulty central dynamics. Matyas Erdely’s photography extenuates the simmering dysfunction aptly, conveying the character’s emotionality with a precise and refined hand. I also loved Durkin’s use of the film’s 80’s setting, twisting the pop confectionary tracks of the era into a soundtrack with much more sinister connotations (happy this film also didn’t shove its time period in the audiences face). These elements blend together to form a sound deconstruction of the family’s pristine nucleus image, offering an encompassing commentary on the secluded divide buried underneath familiar ties.

    The Nest mannered presentation packs modest values, although some of its dramatic potential feels somewhat untapped. When the focus is solely on the breakdown of their family unit, the film sings with searing dramatic moments that linger past the closing credits. However, Durkin’s script often gets sidetracked by flat narrative detours that don’t quite strike with resonance (the minutiae of Rory’s office work is overdone considering it’s just a simplistic reflection of the character’s shallow pursuit for wealth). I also felt the film took some time to find comfortable ground, with the first act elongated pace lacking the potency of the final two acts.

    At its best, The Nest mines an intricate portrait of family dysfunction through its stellar performance work.

  • I Am Woman: Review

    I Am Woman: Review

    In 1966 Helen Reddy (Tilda Cobham-Hervey) takes the daunting first steps towards her historic career. With what is perhaps a blissful ignorance or otherwise an unduly trusting nature she waltzes into a music executives office believing she is the recipient of the chance to record. Possibly such an offer was laid out at some point, but it is not in the nature of the music business to throw bones to struggling artists and as such, daughter Matilda in tow, Helen leaves the office jobless and alone in New York. 

    She goes through many more highs and lows before writing the unofficial anthem of the woman’s liberation movement, I Am Woman, after which the film takes its name. The most important of those highs is her meeting of the man who gets her where she needs to be to shine, her second husband, Jeff Wald (Evan Peters). The film is just as much his at it is Helen’s and the audacious and charismatic Wald soaks up every minute of the limelight. They meet when he gatecrashes her birthday party and soon enough after they are on their way to California where he dreams of representing movie stars and she dreams of making an album. It is here in the Golden State, far removed from the squalor she found herself performing for in New York, that Helen Reddy truly becomes a star. 

    As she elevates to stardom, it gets more and more difficult not to wish this film had come out maybe three years earlier. Before Bohemian Rhapsody had hampered the music biopic so carelessly and before Rocket Man had shown us how to do it properly. In those days I Am Woman would soar as a perfectly reasonable and empowering film, but unfortunately, that is not the case. Instead, watching this in 2020 only highlights the worst tendencies of biographical film making, particularly of musicians. These films feel the need to get by on haphazard normalcy as if showing everything to be stock standard drama is enough to get by. When directors do this, they often include set pieces to add some vigour and give a reason to stay, and this is no different. 

    The performance of the titular song is Unjoo Moon’s selected set-piece and when it comes around the film takes on an entirely different aura for a few moments. So powerful and infectious is Reddy’s song that not only does it overcome the, unfortunately obvious, lip sync, but it also becomes indelible. Cobham-Harvey looks every bit of the part has she mimics the performance and the way she is shot, in both the first and second performances, is impeccable. 

    In fact, throughout the entire film, only one thing remains steadfast, the fantastic work of Dion Beebe, the cinematographer. So brilliant and modern is his work that it almost becomes incongruous to the period and otherwise general straightforwardness of the film. The strength of last years fantastic Judy was that it was a deeply personal film, and despite the attempts for this to be the same it simply isn’t. One moment there will be a spectacular use of Steadicam that promises a deeper glimpse into this impressive figure only to be followed by a scene taken straight from Walk the Line, it’s dreadfully uneven and reeks of having already been done.

    The story remains interesting enough, the familiarity of it can’t be helped in this aspect because if this is what happened, then this is what happened, or is at least some form of it. The performances too are praiseworthy. Her work here could well be Cobham-Harvey’s step into fame should the right people see it and Peters has begun his journey out of his beloved Quicksilver’s shadow. They will both go on to bigger and better things, hopefully in the near future. 

    As time passes through the slightly overlong 116-minute runtime, the film never delves into dire failure, nor does it even come close, it is more that it makes so little of an impact. Eventually the song I Am Woman becomes a crutch for its namesake film and attempts to carry it upon its back. Every moment that isn’t performance just plays it too safe and it compounds into the realisation that there is a great film to be made here, this just isn’t it.

    I Am Woman is heartfelt and well-meaning in its approach. However, it is far too uncomplicated and direct to inspire any of the feelings Helen Reddy’s powerful music does and instead leaves you begging for any sign of risk or vulnerability.

  • Spiral: Review

    Spiral: Review

    In Spiral, Malik (Jeffrey Bowyer-Chapman) and Aaron (Ari Cohen) are taking their daughter, Kayla (Jennifer Laporte) to a new home where they can make a fresh start as a family. They’ve gone through a lot together and with Aaron coming out to his wife, they know all too well that people can be nice on the surface, only for their true colors to show.

    Sure enough, when they arrive there are microaggressions from people such as a neighbor who just stares at them from a distance when they leave the house and the surprise that they get from people when they tell them they’re a couple, but they’re used to that by now.

    However, the aggression in the neighborhood slowly starts to get stronger and Malik starts to think that there may be something more sinister underneath the suburban façade.

    Spiral is a horror movie and Shudder original directed by Kurtis David Hader and written by Colin Minihan and John Poliquin. It’s set up may seem familiar to fans of Get Out, but Spiral still has something unique to say.

    Using many familiar horror tropes to get its point across and scare its audience, Spiral is familiar and yet new as not many gay couples get to be the leads in horror – if any at all. Kayla also attracts the attention of local bad boy, Tyler (Ty Wood) although when Malik and Aaron meet his parents, Marshal (Lochlyn Munro) and Tiffany (Chandra West) they decide that she’s just going through what every girl her age experiences, but they’re still keeping eye on her.

    The problem is that Malik’s paranoia is getting the better of him and as he starts to doubt his validity as a parent, he starts to lose his grip on reality.

    A unique and yet familiar premise, Spiral’s focus on a parent rather than an out of her depth teen helps to explore what it means for a gay couple to be raising a child when it feels like the world is against them. In a horror setting, Spiral manages to excite, scare and even show its audience a perspective they may not have been considering, right down to the grisly end.

  • Blackbird: Review

    Blackbird: Review

    By Alex Purnell. Set against clinically white backdrops of a contemporary house out in the sticks, Blackbird’s topic of death is tragic yet beautiful. A remake of Billie August’s Silent Heart (2014), Blackbird tells the story of an emotional reunion centred around a splintered family and a terminally ill grandmother who is preparing her last Christmas with her loved ones before ending her life.

    It’s a powerful premise, bringing up the moral and ethical issues of planned suicide and the right to die. This is at the forefront of Blackbird, unfinished relationships, saying goodbye and leaving on a high note, not a hospital bed. 

    Blackbird manages to produce a calm yet melancholic edge, an emotional wave that keeps pulling the viewer deep into its depths. The thought of losing a loved one is a difficult pill to swallow, yet the impending threat of death resonating throughout this film feels inevitable, it’s less about Lilly but more so about how her family comes to terms with this earth-shattering event. It’s this attitude towards loss which makes for a memorable viewing experience.

    As grandmother Lilly’s (Susan Sarandon) health seemingly deteriorates throughout the film, you see her struggle to tackle day-to-day activities while keeping up a witty and sarcastic demeanour.  Sarandon’s portrayal of Lilly is sorrowful yet brilliant, the pain behind her sarcasm is poignant, yet the silence of the situation is deafening. 

    Sarandon’s subtle yet powerful performance is backed up by the brilliant Kate Winslet and Mia Wasikowska, respectively playing Lilly’s daughters Jennifer and Anna. 

    The character of Anna, beautifully played by Mia Wasikowska, shows the struggle of a daughter who just isn’t yet ready for the death of her mother. Estranged from her family and overshadowed by her sister, Anna plays the part of the black sheep of the family, her relationship with sister Jennifer creates a number of clashes creating a toxic family dynamic they have to try and repair before the death of their mother.

    https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Xx6D0zvBr7Q

    Blackbird is a tragic yet curiously positive feature, it manages to balance its depressing subject with a some-what uplifting view of an a-typical family dynamic. It’s manic highs give-way to its crushing lows, so its recommended to keep a box of tissues within arm’s length.

  • Red, White & Wasted: Review

    Red, White & Wasted: Review

    In Orlando there lives a man known as Video Pat who lives in what could be called a Redneck community. He’s a family man, divorced but still taking care of his two daughters and even has a grandchild on the way.

    However, Pat’s passion is for Mudding, a motorsport that he’s obsessed with, as he not only loves the sport, but he loves the lifestyle too. It seems though that the documentary may really have a different focus and if you really want to know more about Mudding, then Red, White & Wasted may not be the documentary for you.

    Red, White & Wasted is really about the people, the truth behind the stereotypes and how they really feel. The thing is though that a lot of the stereotypes may actually be true.

    Pat starts talking about the Redneck life, but as with him and many other subjects of the documentary, they don’t think that it applies to them. There’s talk about stereotypes and how they even talk about other people as being Rednecks when they think they aren’t. However, what the documentary shows is that whether they like it or not, they are the stereotypes we all think of when we think of Rednecks.

    There’s teenage drug taking, passionate arguments about the American gun laws and rampant racism that runs through the veins of the Redneck community. However, these kinds of things could be said about a lot of people and although Red, White & Wasted shines a light on those people who it’s believed help Trump come to office, this may be just a part of what made him so popular.

    When you hear about people saying that Trump is just like one of them, then it seems that they really believe it, they don’t see the money and power that he has (although Pat rails against the corporate direction that Mudding is going). They just see a man who tells them he has the same values as them and that’s what speaks to them.

    Red, White & Wasted is an unbiased, honest look at that certain type of Trump voter that people always suspected really existed and even if you disagree with them on certain views – like it or not, they may be a lot like you.