Category: REVIEWS

Judy: The BRWC Review. I will always be a staunch defender of biopics. They are so often criticised as avenues for mere imitations and half-truths, which in the case of some films is true. But to disparage all biopics for simply being made is only a failure to realise their cultural and historical importance, and above all else, the homage they pay to the extraordinary individuals who find themselves the subject of a script. 

Judy Garland to me was always the little girl following the yellow brick road, she lifted my imagination to new heights as a child, but I knew nothing more of her. It wasn’t my generation that became endeared to her as a stage performer, nor was it even my parents. My grandparents were who was around for her all too brief time on this planet.

And when all was said and done, it was her journey to Oz that endured more than anything else. Now her biopic “Judy” has arrived and stars Rene Zellweger in her finest performance ever. It taught me that Dorothy went on to become someone so larger than life that she got lost in the stars and never fully came back down. But for a few, far too brief moments, she managed to take us up there with her, and it was extraordinary. 

Judy captures the twilight of the prolific performer’s career and sees her dwindling for next to no money as the United States forgets about her more and more. Despite it meaning she must leave her beloved children behind she decides to head to London, where her fame still resonates, to make enough money to get custody of her children. There she begins to perform a series of sold-out concerts, that unbeknownst to anyone, would be her last hurrah. 

There is a whole lot love about Judy and nothing more so than the masterful performance of Rene Zellweger in the starring role. Hers is the best performance I have seen all year, and I say that knowing very well who else is in that conversation. She swoons on-screen and paints an endearing and sincere portrait of her muse. She does Judy Garland a great honour with her portrayal as when she begins to sing, and the lights are blaring down onto her, she becomes so captivating you won’t even blink. Zellweger becomes Garland, and she does so with a passion that ensures even when the script begins to fizzle, she continues to command the screen. 

With that said the script does indeed have some flaws, there are the usual historical inaccuracies, though they’re nothing too egregious. One problem occurs late in the film when the major drama reaches its conclusion, it happens quite suddenly and in a somewhat stunted fashion, but I must say the performance is more than good enough to make this easy to ignore. In fact, the scene this leads too is one of Zellweger’s best, even if it is a slightly underwhelming resolution to a crucial plot point.

The other slight issue is in the grey area the film doesn’t shed any light on. We never get to see Judy in her best days as a stage performer, only her final days and her tumultuous beginnings on the set of the Wizard of Oz. This makes for some powerful parallels that explain how Garland ended up where she did, but it does feel as if we skipped some rather important occurrences in between. 

Director Rupert Goold has made something quite special with his efforts. He generates an enormous amount of empathy for Garland and does so in a compassionate manner. Yes, her flaws are there for all to see. She takes to the stage when in no condition to do so and insults unruly audiences for being impatient with her.

But Goold makes it very clear that despite her failings she was a special, one of a kind performer who, as one of the characters say in so many words, managed to bypass the ears with her songs and land straight in the heart. Goold’s first feature “True Story” was scrutinised for lacking substance and his inability to realise his subjects fully, he has come a long way since and it was to Judy Garland’s benefit that he has. 

Judy, we won’t forget you, I promise. This is a film that enhances the grandeur of a star from the past and does so with enough empathy and kindness to make it one of the finest films of the year.

An Audience of Chairs is based off of the book by Joan Clark. In it we follow the story of Maura Mackenzie, a young woman in Newfoundland. An aspiring pianist who, thanks to her husband, misses her big audition, effectively ending her career. This sends her into a depression, which develops into serious mental illness. We follow her as she works to fight for her mental state, while also trying to prove that she is still capable of caring for her children.

This is all deep and compelling stuff. It’s well timed too with mental health awareness at its height. So, I feel a bit put out saying that An Audience of Chairs was just alright.

I liked the story. I liked it a lot. It isn’t just that it works as a way to demonstrate the effects of mental illness and show audiences another perspective on the topic. Which it does. It’s also a good idea for a story, plain and simple. Very early on you understand everything that you need to. You get that the marriage is strained from the get-go, and what missing out on this big chance does to Maura. She also does something very shocking at the beginning as a result. It’s perfect for demonstrating how and why she is seen as a danger to her children and herself, while having us still sympathise with her as a person needing help.

I also have no issue with the acting either. Carolina Bartczak does a good job as Maura. She’s always sympathetic and plays the part of a mental breakdown very well, without falling into over-acting ham or desperate for praise acting which many have been tempted with before. All of the other cast members play their parts well too. The script is a little uninspired with its dialogue, but everyone comes out of it strong, making the lines feel credible at times.

But the film around them feels uninspired. I have no idea what the budget for this film was. At times it feels like a modestly budgeted drama, with nice locations and some good shots. At others, it feels very low budgets and even a little rushed. This feels most prevalent in the house, which feels too restrictive for its own good. These moments can be fine for the claustrophobic moments, but when it’s meant to feel homely, I didn’t buy it. Because it was too closed off. There are some flashback moments that I understood only because of the dialogue that came in the following scene. It’s a very tell don’t show kind of film in that way.

The time jumps caught me off guard a little too. When she leaves the mental hospital and it’s been stated that six months have past was fine. It was a little tricky to keep track of the time due to the execution but wasn’t an issue. Towards the end, however, there was a much larger time gap – and that was jarring. Not to mention a little hilarious as the aging make-up after said moment was a mixed bag. At its best it did look very convincing. At all other times it looked like the actress had dyed her hair grey and had a bad night.

I liked An Audience of Chairs fine. But I wanted to like it more than just fine. It feels like there was a great story to be told, but the film was flatly directed and simplified to sometimes cartoonish levels. The husband in particular felt like he needed a top hat and curled moustache to complete the image he was making. But I do think that the story is worth it. And the acting is strong enough to carry it along. It doesn’t have a lot of re-watchability, but it’s definitely worth a go.

By Fergus Henderson. In the opening moments of Marilyn Edmond’s directorial debut Connect, an unidentified man wills himself off the side of a cliff in North Berwick. For anyone familiar with the tragic suicide of east coaster Scott Hutchison (of Frightened Rabbit) this image will cast a haunting pall over the film, lending it a raw resonance. Even though Connect is mainly a modest, sober, and sweet story of male mental health, the full darkness of its subject matter lies under its surface.

As the opening scene’s repercussions echo through the town, they seem to hit our protagonist Brian (Kevin Guthrie) the hardest. Brian is a quietly depressed young man who works a dull Home Hardware job, and as our introduction to him makes clear, he has been thinking of taking his own life for a while. 

He masks his deep sadness with the kind of performative masculine stoicism that many will immediately recognise. He struggles to communicate with his mum, his dad is the classic Scottish “alright son” emotionally closed off pub patron, and his sister has her own priorities, having just given birth. It isn’t long before Brian makes his own attempt, only to be rescued at the last moment by benevolent, mysterious stranger Jeff (Stephen McCole). It is Jeff’s gruff but sincere support that finally steers Brian onto a better path, and to redemptive romance with young mum Sam (Siobhan Reilly). 

Whilst Connect’s middle section, post-Jeff, does pitch itself as more of a standard television drama in which Brian deals with the trials and vicissitudes of a fully engaged life, as well as Sam’s alcoholic ex-husband Simon (performed with deceptive texture by Neil Leiper), the film has an ace up its sleeve that I won’t get into. 

What I can say is that the film never loses sight of the seriousness of its subject matter, nor does it present male depression as a simple or easily fixed issue. As Jeff emphasises, becoming okay with yourself is a profoundly long process. Similarly the film wisely avoids drawing any analogues between Brian’s depression and his sister’s post-natal depression – whilst they may be able to help each other, they are both experiencing uniquely different struggles. The gulf that depression has created between Brian and the rest of the world is always close to consuming him.

Because the film is primarily a character study carried by Kevin Guthrie’s soulful, understated performance, and because it tells an intimate tale, director Edmond has made Connect an understated film. This means that when it works, it works very well, and when it doesn’t, the weaknesses (both Sam’s character and the film’s late-in-the-game critique of social media are a little slight) feel less impactful. 

It is perhaps a shame that the film’s production is modest enough to feel a little low-stakes, a little television drama. It is hard to imagine Connect ever having a commercial release. Nevertheless, it is a disarmingly powerful drama, directed with empathy and restraint, centring on an outstanding performance by Kevin Guthrie. Most importantly it is that rare thing, a film that fully understands and respects its subject matter, and for that it deserves to be seen. It could help a lot of people.

Connect hits cinemas 25th October.

Harvey Harrington (Dave Coyne) is a nice guy. He has a simple job, he never does anything wrong and always sees the best in people. He also happens to know a lot about those tiny by-laws that nobody really pays attention to anymore – nobody but Harvey anyway. Then one day after Harvey collapses at work, he goes to the doctor and finds out he has an inoperable brain tumour, giving him about a month to live.

Realising that he has never really lived, Harvey heads for the nearest bar to drown his sorrows and that’s where he meets Luke (Nick DePinto), a con artist who convinces Harvey that as he has never lived before, then now is as good a time as any. So, the pair get into Luke’s car and head for Miami with the intention of breaking as many of the laws that Harvey knows along the way.

Meant to be Broken is a hilarious buddy comedy with a simple premise. A premise that may have been done many times before, but Meant to be Broken is good enough to have its own originality while harking back to earlier buddy comedies.

Coyne and DePinto have great chemistry and as I said, their characters may remind the audience of similar characters in bigger budget comedies, but the pair play off each other just as well and are a likeable duo, even when the dynamic of their partnership changes.

With some hidden surprises along the way, Meant to be Broken is a comedy that has a well-crafted, witty script, great performances and best of all it has a heart. Audiences may think they know just how the film is going to play out, but with some clever moments of character development the audience is shown something new and intriguing just when they need it.

These kinds of buddy comedies are rare these days and Meant to be Broken clearly takes its influence from some of the best such as Dumb and Dumber and the underrated Kingpin. The tone is perfect, not a single scene is wasted or feels out of touch and the jokes come thick and fast. Meant to be Broken could possibly be the best feel good buddy comedy that you need right now.

I often find myself using the term melodrama as a dirty word, particularly when critiquing low budget independent films. I acknowledge that I shouldn’t do that, melodrama as a genre doesn’t mean bad, Magnolia is in every essence melodramatic, and it’s a masterpiece. However, there is something about the genre in the hands of debuting and promising directors that sees everything go wrong very quickly. Cyrus Mirakhor’s first feature film “Wake.” falls victim to this, and it could have been so much more. 

Carey Crim adapted the scripted from her play of the same name. It tells the story of Molly Harrison (Myndy Crist), her mother Ivy (Caroline Lagerfelt) and daughter Sam (Page Searcy) and how they deal with Molly’s severe agoraphobia that manifested when her husband died three years ago. As a joke present for her birthday, Sam and her grandmother buy Molly a life-sized doll they christen Pedro, and all is well until Molly begins to see it come to life as her deceased husband, Peter (Jo Koy). From there, Molly juggles her anxiety, her mother and daughter and tries to find it within herself to explore her feelings for Joe (James Denton), a documentary filmmaker she meets through work. 

A lot happens in this movie, so much that the runtime is a massive problem. An hour and a half isn’t enough time to explore the giant themes Wake throws at us. Loss, mental illness, parental influence across generations, and romance are all a factor in the story at some point, and it becomes too much very quickly. Early on, I began to think that this setting would have worked far better in a television format; I actually think it would have been quite good. But as a movie, Wake doesn’t function.

The tone changes with every scene because the humour doesn’t balance evenly against the bleak concept. As such Mirakhor fails to create genuine resolutions because the film is so uneven and rushed. So when the time comes to begin wrapping everything with a nice big bow Wake dissolves into melodrama, and I say that with the harshest of connotations. 

Wake has a very distinct moment where everything begins to collapse around Molly and her family, and it begins with the best scene in the entire film. Paige Searcy delves deep into her repertoire as a performer and finds a pitch that is incredibly moving in a crucial scene, and she steals the movie in the process. In this moment, around an hour into the film, the emotional turmoil between mother and daughter begins to erupt, and Sam bares herself to her mother and pleads with her; it moved me to tears.

I loved this scene with all my heart; what I didn’t love was every minute that followed. Unfortunately, this heartbreaking piece of writing and acting triggers every other plotline disintegrating into turmoil and what I believe Mirakhor intended to be a dramatic crescendo only amounts to a melodramatic calamity. 

There is one other glaring issue with the narrative, and it’s Pedro the gag doll. Pedro comes to represent the big thing that holds Molly back, which we know right from the start is her dead husband, Peter. From the moment he first appears it’s unclear what he represents, at first, he’s a joke, then he’s a lover, and then he becomes a physical presence that will do anything to hold Molly back.

It’s clear she doesn’t know how to move on from her husband’s death, but it all feels like a condemnation of a man whom, to our knowledge, didn’t deserve to be condemned. Molly’s only way of moving on is to blame her husband and cut him out of her mind, and I don’t believe that is a wise or logical depiction of closure, and it left me scratching my head.

Wake. has all the potential to be an emotionally satisfying television show. However, as a film, it simply doesn’t work. Keep an eye on the impressive Paige Searcy though; this endeavour should be a mere blip on the career she should go on to have.