Category: REVIEWS

Alison Klayman, the award-winning filmmaker behind Ai Weiwei: Never Sorry, has returned with new film The Brink, an observational documentary offering a one-of-a-kind look at one of the most significant and dangerous figures in world politics, Steve Bannon, in the run-up to the US midterms. 

The real question is this: why would Bannon allow Klayman, a director who so clearly opposes his ideals, into his world so openly? He says in the film that Donald Trump has taught him there is ‘no such thing’ as bad publicity, so one can assume he would never have let it happen unless he believed it would benefit him in some way. 

On the other hand, you might be wondering why Klayman would be interested in making the film in the first place. It’s not like Bannon needs any more attention, something with which he clearly thrives, so why give him precisely that? Well, fortunately for us, Klayman has outsmarted him here. It’s clear he underestimates her, but her calm, measured presence in the background of his life is precisely why the film proves to be anything but a positive thing for its main subject.

Bannon is such a showman, so openly and proudly who he is, that Klayman doesn’t need to sensationalize. Simply observing is enough. The Brink functions as a behind-closed-doors, bare-all look at just one controversial man. It’s designed to be an unfiltered look at who he is, with long cuts and lingering sequences working exceptionally well, as Klayman lets moments play out as long as they need to. 

She only speaks to him a couple of times in the film. For the most part, you forget she’s even there. She’s not interested in narration, talking heads or fancy statistics and graphs. That’s not what she’s about and it’s not what the film needed. We just needed to be taken into his world and be shown how he worked, and that’s exactly what she’s given us. Her style also makes the film far more welcoming to those who find politics a little heavy-going, aided by the very watchable Bannon, who fills almost every frame. Admittedly, Bannon is charismatic, despite not being overly likeable. He could never have got to where he is were he not.

Klayman is clearly making a point here about Bannon and the risks he poses, but she’s able to do so without ever actually making it, which might be the most impressive thing about her film. Also, thanks to the frankly incredible access she’s been given, we’re able to see Bannon in his moments of weakness just as often as we see him in positions of strength. He tends to struggle when questioned, particularly appearing stressed when getting in the car following some fiery questioning from Susanna Reid, repeatedly admitting ‘she was tough’.

Bannon may believe there is no such thing as bad press, but his reluctance to address the film recently may prove otherwise. This is not something he can use to his benefit, nor was it ever designed to be. Klayman said herself that Bannon is the ‘least important audience member for the film’. Rather impressively, she has managed to keep control of the picture and ensure it never turned into something he could use in a different way. It’s an observational character study, not political propaganda. With someone like Bannon, this would’ve been a very tough line to draw, but she’s managed it. 

People will already have strong opinions on Bannon going in, be it a huge amount of support or genuine hatred, and it’s hard to see the film changing anyone’s mind. The Brink isn’t showing you a version of someone that you didn’t expect, and its biggest crime is perhaps that it therefore lacks any real surprise. That being said, a lack of surprise does not necessarily mean an absence of shock, and the film has that in spades.

We’re offered a one-of-a-kind look at meetings and discussions of which we could’ve only previously imagined, and they are no less enraging than expected. Klayman simply allowing these people to do the talking while she watches gives the film such a sense of authenticity about it, and it’s exactly that that makes the film so discomforting. It’s both engaging and infuriating to watch these people discuss many significant topics with such ease and an apparent lack of interest in what their words could mean. However, as uncomfortable as a lot of this may be, it is nothing short of enlightening. 

The Brink gives us an intimate look at a man who is essentially nothing more than a brilliant salesman, pitching his ideas to those who will listen, shunning those who will not, and being offered a frankly terrifying amount of money to do so. It’s a film that feels incredibly important at this moment in time, and one that will likely leave many viewers with more questions than answers, but this was never Klayman’s objective.

Instead, she is opening a door to a world that has an impact on all of us, and yet one that we never get to see. She is showing us how a very significant and dangerous figure works, how he manipulates and how he functions, and the result is a film that feels both fascinating and sickening. It’s simple but wonderfully effective, and one of the most accessible and significant political documentaries you could see right now. 

In cinemas and on demand from 12th July.

The desperation to escape can be over-powering, and coupled with the confusion of growing up it can be dangerous. Adolescence understands the exhilaration of love, and the heartache of a broken home.

Adolescence follows the story of shy, sensitive and artistic young teen Adam (Mickey River) as his home life begins to weaken and he seeks out this escape through drugs and love.

We begin With Adam as a typical teenager. He loves classic rock, he loves his friend Keith, (Romeo Miller) and he’s desperate for a girl. It’s an all too common story. Your friend has game, and you don’t, so he decides to help. Enter stage, Alice (India Eisley).

Alice is everything Adam wants. She’s fun, she’s crazy, she wants to hang out, party and drink beers, but most importantly she likes Adam. He’s desperate to tune out, and get away from his depressed mother, constantly cheating on his Dad, whilst his Dad drinks himself through his anger and disappointment at life. No one is happy. So, what do you do? Well, Alice provides an escape.

We don’t learn much about Alice except from her surrogate father Shepheard (Tommy Flanagan), who in my opinion is the second best character in Adolescence apart from the amazing (and hopefully my future best friend) Keith. Drawn in by the lull of love & sex, Adam and Alice enter a world of hard drugs before the friendship of Keith and father-like nature of Shepheard pull Adam out from within it.

We see a typical teenager descend into desperation, desperate for the affection of Alice, who seems only interested in the next hit, battling her own demons.

Where Adolescence excels, and perhaps also fails is that despite Alice’s addiction, and Adam’s search for bliss, the story never quite gets resolved, we see hope, but we see no happy ending. Yet, to be honest, I think that worked perfectly.

The only failing of this is a possibly inaccurate portrayal of true addiction for which you need ONLY Beautiful Boy to shine a light on. But, Adolescence isn’t really about the drugs, it’s about a search for yourself, and the understanding that you can’t shut yourself away from the world forever and that beauty (Keith) does exist.

The performances in this film are a high standard. India Eisley sometimes feels like she’s forcing it and Mickey River can appear disingenuous, but Tommy Flanagan (Gladiator, Sons of Anarchy) and Romeo Miller bring the film back. There are also excellent supporting performances from Elisabeth Rohm (Law & Order, Joy) and Michael Milford (Dave), who for me isn’t given enough screen time or sympathy, but is treated to a beautiful ‘almost’ reconciliatory scene towards the end as Adam moves on.

I do wonder why Shepheard helps Adam cure his addiction and why he suddenly, and without explanation, becomes so involved in his life, or how Keith has his phone number when he never seemed to talk to him which took me away from my immersion for a while. Nonetheless, the father son relationship was worth this quite massive plot hole. I have also written a long and harshly worded petition to the film industry to request that dark and gritty doesn’t have to literally mean dark and gritty. Dark and Gritty content, yes please, but I’d still like to see the characters faces. The sun never sees to rise in the seemingly dystopic world that Adolescence exists in.

Adolescence is worth a watch on a Wednesday evening. It’s not quite your blockbuster weekend film, but I did like it. Watch the Trailer Below.

Many films revolving around loneliness are so often dark and twisted, with many depicting someone experiencing this prevalent human feeling as partially psychotic. This approach has made for some classic movies but presents a fantastical narrative about loneliness, one that fails to translate into reality accurately. John Butler’s “Papi Chulo” takes us away from this to somewhere refreshingly new.

Set in ever sunny Los Angles, we follow TV weatherman Sean (Matt Bomer) who, after a bad break up and being forced to take time off work, finds himself almost entirely alone within his hillside home. After getting rid of a tree left by his ex-boyfriend on the deck, it quickly becomes apparent that the entire space needs repainting. Knowing he cannot do it himself, Sean hires Ernesto (Alejandro Patiño), a 50-year-old Latino family man to paint it for him. Desperately needing a friend, Sean goes on to ignore the need to repaint and begins paying Ernesto to travel around LA with him in order to help cope with his loneliness.

There is a moment in “Papi Chulo” where the two leads talk about how marriage, and relationships in general, are like Ernesto’s estimate for how long it will take to paint the deck, they take more than one day. This scene takes place on a hiking trail in LA where the city looks beautiful below them, and Ernesto is struck by it all, especially since he is paid to be here. As they talk, Sean can only half understand Ernesto due to the language barrier, yet we can tell that the wisdom the older man is granting him is making it through by transcending their cultural differences.

All of this together makes for a poignant scene that perfectly encompasses Butler’s script. At points, it is a comedic look at culture shock, but at its core, it is about Sean, a lonely man who needs a friend, and in this moment, he begins to find one. 

In his depiction of loneliness, Butler has formed it as an unassuming cruel wave we see wash over Sean throughout and slowly wears him down to his lowest. It is a wonderfully human take on feeling alone, one which allows for Sean to genuinely grow as a person and does not leave him emotionally stunted. Yes, it may be altogether simplistic that all Sean needs to ‘cure’ his loneliness is a new friend, but the charm between the pair makes it believable and satisfying. Dehumanising Sean in order to make the story more elaborate would have been a disaster, he is not that kind of character, nor would any character like that suit this setting. Rather, he is a troubled man haunted by his past relationships, and this film’s biggest strength is that it says feeling this way is okay.

Boomer and Patiño are brilliant together. They make for an instantly entertaining mismatched duo, one that charms throughout as their friendship grows. Boomer delivers a surprisingly powerful performance, managing to break off from the comedy in an instant and go deep into the drama of loneliness. At times it is stunning how well he displays Sean’s distress and particularly how he manages to make it convincingly worsen. In the emotionally intense final 20 minutes, he shines even brighter and makes himself well worthy of praise.

Alongside him, Patiño makes for the perfect partner. His performance required him to hit a very different pitch, and he nails it. There is no real conflict within the Ernesto character; he thought he was getting paid to paint a deck but was dragged along this journey instead. So with this performance, it is the kindness he illustrates, as well as the few moments of wonder he captures just by gazing around the sights he has never seen before, that are the most potent aspects and see Patiño underplay himself to an excellent performance. Together they firm themselves as the heart and soul of this story, which was crucial to get right for everything to work as well as it does.

Anything set in LA always has an inherently picturesque vibe to it. “Papi Chulo” is no different, with it using the constant sunshine to bask its characters in something otherworldly. There is a strange conflict that arises seeing Sean be so troubled yet continuously bathed in sunshine. For the most part, it makes for a significant affirmation telling us anyone can be lonely, even the wealthy weatherman on TV. Outside of this, it does not do much for the story, and at times can be slightly jarring.

However, all in all, Cinematographer Cathal Watters has done a reliable job capturing the famous city, even managing to briefly capture it in the rain for some gorgeous shots. It is a view of LA we have seen many times before yet still feels ageless, which is a testament to everyone who pulls it off. Above all else, Watters and Butler did not try to re-invent the wheel from their side of the camera, and it worked actively in their favour in this instance. Sometimes a beautiful city is enough, and they knew it was here. 

“Papi Chulo” is a charming, well-acted film about a lonely man and the only person he could find to be his friend. The refreshing depiction of feeling alone may not break as much new ground as it could have, but it makes for a pleasantly heart-warming ride.

Midsommar: The BRWC Review. Ari Aster is a filmmaker that should be celebrated for decades to come, especially because he is someone who is not afraid to take risks when it comes to crafting his art. Instead of following the traditional filmmaking techniques that many other filmmakers use, Aster uses his own methods in an effort to create something wholly unique, original, and fresh.

With his directorial debut feature Hereditary, he proved that he could tell a beautifully dark and haunting story about grief and family relationships, and one that felt disturbingly real and grounded.

Hereditary was a film that completely took me by surprise and left a lasting impression on me that I will have for the rest of my life. Every single aspect of that picture I adore, and it is quite simply my favorite film of all time. So to say that I was excited about Aster’s follow-up would be a colossal understatement.

In Midsommar, we follow Dani Ardor (Florence Pugh) and Christian Hughes (Jack Reynor) as a couple who are going through serious relationship issues. Dani recently went through a horrific family tragedy and has since been on edge.

In an effort to try to get away from their worries and to rekindle their love for one another, the two embark on a trip to Sweden for the midsummer celebration, an event that only happens every ninety years. When they get there however, they begin to realize that this trip was not such a good idea.

By far the biggest snub at this year’s Academy Awards show was Toni Collette not being nominated for her mesmerizing performance as Annie Graham in the aforementioned Hereditary. Everything about that role was so haunting and emotionally powerful that it was quite a shock when the Australian actress’ name was nowhere to be found on the Best Actress nominee list. We can only hope that the same thing will not occur with Florence Pugh.

This is without a doubt the best performance she has given to date, and it is additionally one of the best performances I have seen in years. From the opening frames of Midsommar, we see that Dani is emotionally distraught and does not have anybody to express her feelings to, as her boyfriend Christian has been incredibly distant toward her and barely spends time with her anymore. For a large portion of the running time, Pugh has to act with nothing more than her facial expressions, and she does so almost effortlessly. There are some sequences here involving her character that I am never going to forget because they were just so riveting and terrifying.

Speaking of Dani’s boyfriend Christian, Jack Reynor is also remarkable as the character. Ever since watching him as Brendan Lawlor in the feel-good indie sleeper Sing Street, I have always wanted Reynor to get a truly big role where he would be fully able to showcase his acting talents, and Midsommar is definitely that film. Much like Pugh, he has to deliver tons of emotion with facial expressions and he is great at it.

When it comes to the cinematography, it is some of the most beautiful I have ever seen in horror cinema. Shot by director of photography Pawel Pogorzelski, who previously shot Aster’s directorial debut, every frame of this film has something interesting to look at. Whether it is gorgeous, lush treetops or mountains, or something more sinister such as fire, every shot is meticulously crafted. After a while, it almost feels as if you are being hypnotized because of how breathtaking everything looks. This is the closest you will ever get to being put in a dreamlike state with cinema.

Since this is a horror film, you would expect there to be a ton of creepy and effective scares, and there gratefully are plenty of those to be found here. However, do not go into Midsommar expecting it to be a traditional horror movie with a plethora of jumpscares or sudden loud noises every few seconds, because if you do, you will be immensely disappointed. Much like Hereditary, this film does not have even one jumpscare or sudden loud noise in sight. Instead, all of the scares are things that quite simply make you feel uneasy and sick to your stomach. Certain images that are shown here are downright horrifying, and will make even some of the most hardened horror lovers feel disturbed.

A big reason as to why these scenes of pure dread work so well is due to the insanely entrancing score by The Haxan Cloak. The first time we hear his score, it gives off an impression of dread and hopelessness that carries throughout the remainder of the film and is one of the best horror scores I have heard in years. 

By far, one of my favorite elements to Midsommar is how almost everybody will more than likely have their own interpretation of what the ending means. The final few frames of this film are so bizarre and insane and will leave viewers in awe of what they just watched. In fact, writer/director Ari Aster and Florence Pugh both have different opinions on what the ending means. There are going to be dozens of fan theories circulating around the internet, not just about the ending, but the entire film and I honestly cannot wait to hear what other people’s opinions are.

Just like Ari Aster’s previous effort, Midsommar is a beautifully haunting and deliciously evil tale about grief and relationships, and will go down as one of the all-time best horror films.

Our Time Review 

The complex nature of love is a topic that has been subject to investigation over millenniums. There can be no correct answer as to how the emotion of love forms but through the investigation we can, at the very least, come to comprehend its size, scope and most importantly, its ability to change. One such investigation is Carlos Reygadas’ 2018 marital epic “Our Time”. Here the auteur tells the story of Juan (Carlos Reygadas) and his wife Esther (Natalia López) as their love slowly begins to fall apart, as a result of Esther’s affair with American horse trainer Phil (Phil Burgers). Despite their open marriage, Juan and Esther find themselves on the brink of collapse as Esther comes to realise that she intensely craves more independence both sexually and domestically.

From its first shot till its last “Our Time” plays like visual poetry. Reygadas has a spectacular eye for the sublime and has worked wonders with cinematographers Adrian Durazo and Diego García. Reminiscent of Terrence Malick, this movie says just as much with the camera as the characters do with dialogue and it is a force that is impossible to ignore. The sheer amount of emphasis provided by the shots is outstanding, developing the perfect platform for the actors as they emotionally shrivel before our eyes. At times the sheer art of it all does get carried away; some shots linger just a bit too long, and others do not add much to the narrative. I would be lying if I said that I was not struck by impatience at times; at points, it felt as if individual shots took priority over the story in the editing process. Despite this, there is no arguing against the fact that it is entirely masterful cinematography. 

The performances here are well worth applauding. The real-life husband and wife are both in top form with their starring performances. Here López and Reygadas provide realistic and emotion-laden turns that capture the turmoil throughout the film perfectly. Their work is even more stunning upon realising that neither of them is a professional actor, with this being the feature debut for López and only the second credited role for Reygadas. Their ability to convincingly portray a married couple is, to an extent, understandable. The real skill in both performances lies in the fact that they could so convincingly have their characters’ marriage fall apart on screen, especially at the sluggish pace the movie travels. 

Their marriage is in a slow decline, one that analyses every bump in its long road and searches it for meaning. For a long period throughout the 173-minute runtime, Esther proclaims her love for Juan. All the while, she slowly realises the truth within herself that the force behind their love is no longer there. This level of depth and scale would be a difficult task for the most seasoned actors, so to see two non-actors pull it off as well as they did is astounding. 

The script is one that finds conflict within itself and never manages to unravel it to the audience. Opting to play primarily from Juan’s perspective leaves the message stunted and less accessible. Esther’s inner conflict is the heart of this movie, and yet she is not the heart of the screen and in this sense, Reygadas has contradicted himself. Instead, Juan, his emotional reactions and self-evaluation are the heart of the film, and this makes certain portions come across as hollow and at times, even needless. These moments lack the input of Esther, it is her feelings that are the beginning and end of this conflict, and through focusing on Juan, the philosophical insight that Reygadas attempts to generate fails to flourish. 

However, Juan does take us through some compelling and engaging moments. One being when Juan insists Esther sleeps with Phil so that he can spy on them in bed together, allowing him to see who she truly loves. It is a scene filled with Juan’s demons and is one of the few moments he can encapsulate the film’s struggle. Overall his perspective makes for a screenplay that, at its worst is a frustrating tale of the man who does not have much to say about the emotional distortion that fuels the film, while at its best is a new and unique look at the depths of masculinity amid emotional crisis. 

It may run long but to the right audience “Our Time” is well worth the watch. Mixing idyllic beauty with tumultuous romance makes for wonderous viewing, and although prone to getting lost within itself and lacking enough perspective to investigate love clearly, Carlos Reygadas has created something too beautiful to write off.