Sarah Jayne’s short film Daughter takes a look at the ways in which women are viewed in society, following three main protagonists who cross paths one night on the streets of St Kilda, Australia.
This is a film with a good
heart but not a great deal of style. One can’t help but wonder if this story
should be a lot more interesting than it is. Scarlett, Jemma and Alethea all
come from various different backgrounds and upbringings, and the film’s concept
relies heavily on the unpredictability surrounding where the evening is going
and who it will affect the most. Sadly, the film never really grabs the viewer’s
attention enough to build that tension successfully.
It also fails to connect on an
emotional level, as we aren’t given enough time to really bond with the
characters. We see a little about Jemma, a prostitute working the streets at
night, and we learn that Scarlett has had a difficult time recently, but we
aren’t offered much else. We are expected to express concern over these
characters, but are never given enough reason to.
It’s not enough to simply show
us women in trouble. The script should give us a reason to sympathise with
these three women in particular, and it fails to achieve that. The main flaw
here is that the film seems too preoccupied with sending a message than it does
telling an interesting story. Daughter feels
less of a film than it does a lecture, even going on to have Katherine Langford
give a speech and literally look at the camera. It’s possible to tell a story
that also touches on serious themes and contains a message, but Sarah Jayne
doesn’t seem to have gotten the balance right here.
https://vimeo.com/146362676
The film isn’t that enticing to look at, either. It’s quite blandly shot, and the editing doesn’t always work, often feeling erratic and misjudged. The performances are also fairly hit and miss. Katherine Langford, who has recently found success in the Netflix series 13 Reasons Why, is fairly convincing as Scarlett, and Aisha Jakszewicz is engaging as Jemma, but Carolyn Rey is relatively awkward as Alethea, unable to show much conviction with what is already a wooden script.
There are genuinely good
intentions behind Daughter, and the
crowdfunding background behind the production demonstrates that there is
clearly a great deal of support for the topics it’s discussing, but as a film
in its own right it feels a little awkward and misplaced. The script is fairly
week and the vision dull, and its performers are unable to bring much life to
what little they have. The film isn’t letting its audience in, but rather
talking directly at them in a way that almost feels patronising. Sarah Jayne is
clearly a passionate filmmaker with a good heart, but Daughter feels like a misstep.
Jordan Peele’s background in sketch comedy makes him the least likely person to be considered one of horror’s great new directors, and yet here we are. Us, the follow-up to his Oscar-winning debut Get Out, is another oustanding piece of suspense cinema; spectacularly crafted, superbly acted, truly terrifying and extremely entertaining.
The film follows a family on summer vacation, frightened by the arrival of their apparent doubles on their driveway, carrying scissors and ready to kill. Much like Get Out, the plot isn’t all it seems. It’s once again enriched with Peele’s social commentary, this time taking a stab at a divided modern-day America, in an effective albeit not-so-subtle way.
Discussing the film, Peele said: ‘This movie is about this country. We are in a time where we fear the other. Whether it is a mysterious invader that we think is going to come and kill us, take our jobs, or the faction that we don’t live near that voted a different way than us. We’re all about pointing the finger and I wanted to suggest that maybe the monster we really need to look at has our face. Maybe the evil is us.’
Despite the film’s political undercurrent, it never once takes precedence over the film itself being a riveting and entertaining experience, first and foremost. Peele clearly has a voice, but his main priority is to give the audience a good time and it shows. This film isn’t telling the audience off. It’s not a lecture. It’s just so much fun. Peele has managed to strike that balance almost effortlessly, making exciting cinema while at the same time proving that films like this can indeed have a brain and treat their audience like they have one too. The man clearly respects his audience and that’s something to be admired.
The craftsmanship on display here is also particularly impressive. Mike Gioulakis’s cinematography generates an atmosphere unparalleled by the majority of films in the genre, demonstrating a lot of ambition and creativity behind the camera that compliments Peele’s screenplay perfectly. The film is also edited to perfection, complete with magnificent sound design and a perfectly-pitched score by Michael Abels that is both disturbing and energetic all at the same time. Us is the culmination of a lot of people doing outstanding work in their respective fields, combining to make something very special indeed.
This film is frankly jaw-dropping to look at. It’s not a film that you simply watch. It’s a cinematic experience the likes of which we see so rarely these days, and Peele’s natural talent for suspense is comparable to the legendary Alfred Hitchcock, which is a compliment not to be taken lightly. From the moment the family appears, the film pulls its audience in and never let go, providing an edge-of-your-seat thrill ride that never pauses for breath. Its scares are tremendously effective and leave a lasting impact long after the credits roll.
This lasting impact comes not just from the thrills but also Peele’s particularly clever screenplay that offers a great deal to be discussed, and plenty of reason to revisit the film as soon as possible. The third act offers some big surprises but none are out of left-field. It’s only once the film ends that the audience realises what story Peele was really telling, and you’re left with an entirely different perspective on it. Us is a film that works as a terrifying and suspenseful horror film on first viewing, but can be viewed as an entirely different piece all together the second time around, and that’s quite some feat.
It’s undoubtedly a film that will feel new with each viewing, with meticulous detail and plenty of information to unpack; the sort of picture that you can see being the subject of university dissertations, with each student offering a completely different vantage point. A mainstream horror flick that gets its audience thinking and analysing is a rare treat, and Us offers that in spades.
There is also an effective dose of dark humour in the film, much like Get Out, stemming from Peele’s comedy background. Once again, it’s perfectly judged. The laughs never detract away from the tension, with every line coming naturally as a result of the character dynamics, not once feeling forced or unnecessary. The humour simply adds yet another layer of entertainment value to the picture, making Us a film that has you smiling just as much as it does hiding behind your coat.
All this aside, the film wouldn’t be as spectacular as it is without Lupita Nyong’o’s central performance. Nyong’o is as memorable a horror lead as Toni Colette was in last year’s Hereditary, perhaps even better, offering an extremely complex and emotional performance that could honestly be considered Oscar-worthy.
//www.youtube.com/watch?v=hNCmb-4oXJA
Sophomore features are often unsuccessful. When a filmmaker is so triumphant on their first attempt, they can often be put on such a high pedestal that it is impossible to reach it again. Alternatively, their extra creative freedom can lead to an ego-trip that results in disaster. With Us, Peele has not fallen victim to the ‘sophomore jinx’, offering a film with just as much to discuss and admire as his first.
Get Out is perhaps better scripted, but Us is far more impressive on a technical level. Peele has clearly gained that little extra confidence and is happily flexing his directorial muscles, and it really pays off. The film is near-perfect. It’s fun, scary, suspenseful, thought-provoking and cinematically rich, doing everything that a film like this should do and yet so many don’t.
This review contains a lot of brownnosing, but honestly Jordan Peele is the type of filmmaker that Hollywood needs right now. We are genuinely seeing the rise of one of the world’s most exciting new directors. His brand is establishing itself among many other great auteurs; making films like no other and presenting a clear unique voice. Peele is a true original, creating innovative horror films that offer endless suspense and surprise. The fact that Us had such a monumental record-breaking opening weekend offers a great deal of hope for cinema, as it proves that audiences do still want new and original films like this, and as long as Peele is offering them, we have every reason to be excited.
Us is not a film that you should just go and see. It’s a film you should see twice. Then, when you’ve finished, think about it a little. Discuss it with your friends. Then watch it again.
The Dirt is a biopic of the band Mötley Crüe, based on the book written by Neil Strauss and the band themselves. Like any other Rockstar biopic, it tells the story of the band’s meteoric rise to fame and any of the more dramatic and troublesome events that occurred during their lives together as a band. Mötely Crüe certainly had a lot of troublesome times – although that’s mostly brought on by their own chaotic, anarchic behaviour.
Founded in 1981; Nikki Six (Douglas Booth), Vince Neil (Daniel Webber), Mick Mars (Iwan Rheon) and Tommy Lee (Machine Gun Kelly credited as Colson Baker) were brought together and soon gathered a small but devoted fandom proving that fame was not far away. Unlike other biopics though, where the focus of the film would be on one band member over the others, the movie has the band quite literally fighting over screen time to tell their own story.
It uses voiceovers to interrupt scenes and fourth wall breaks to remind the audience that this is their story and not everything may be the whole truth and it helps to bring the sense of fun and non-conformity that surrounded the band’s career.
If I were to say there was any focus though, I would say that it was on Nikki Six whose troubled childhood of neglect led him to being homeless and down a path of heroin addiction. However, as the movie plays out the audience realises that Nikki is not the only one with problems.
Amongst the scenes of chaos and debauchery there are moments filled with real emotions which ground the band as a group of real people and doesn’t just rely on the moments where the band come up with their greatest songs to drive the story. In fact, I would go as far to say that Mötley Crüe’s music barely features in the movie. Besides the music that is played over some scenes, their music serves more as a soundtrack rather than a point of interest for fans of the band.
//www.youtube.com/watch?v=-NOp5ROn1HE
I’m not entirely sure anybody is that interested in how the band came up with such titles as ‘Girls, Girls, Girls’ and ‘Ten Seconds to Love’, but by showing what the band did with their money and fame I’m sure the audience has a good idea of what inspired them.
The movie does hit some dull notes though. Particularly in an infamous poolside scene featuring Ozzy Osborne where Tony Cavalero’s impression all but forgets Osborne’s Birmingham accent. Also, Mick Mars’ ongoing condition is mentioned, but perhaps due to a lack of budget in the makeup department is never portrayed properly.
It is refreshing to see a biopic that includes a person with a disability and doesn’t make it all about them, but at the same time I feel that the film doesn’t have much else to say about Mars so out of all the band members he is the one that is the most pushed to one side.
Ultimately though, The Dirt is a satisfying music biopic
that gives the audience a taste of the band and at the same time deals with
more serious and intimate things that other biopics could be accused of glossing
over. This movie is not for the feint of heart and right from the start it sets
the tone so those with a more sensitive disposition can leave as soon as they
like. However, for those who want a fun, eye opening portrayal of one of the
craziest rock bands in music history then this is the film for you.
Hulu’s Oscar-nominated Minding The Gap may be one of the most genuine and human documentaries of recent times. Bing Liu’s film has been shot over the course of 12 years as he grows up with his friends Zack and Keire, all of whom have experienced trauma in their youth and found solace through their shared love of skateboarding.
This film is so much more than it appears. You’d be forgiven for overstating the importance of the skateboarding in Bing’s film, when in reality it is simply the means with which these three young men have been brought together. What Minding The Gap is really interested in is precisely why they needed each other in the first place, and it touches on a great many important themes including; poverty, adolescence, unemployment, emotional and physical abuse, parenthood, family and, perhaps most importantly of all, toxic masculinity.
Bing, Zack and Keire are all finding growing up extremely difficult as they mature into the adults we get to know, for reasons that become apparent as it all plays out. They open up in brutally honest and emotional ways that impact the viewer greatly and leave a great deal to ponder.
It’s Bing’s personal connection to what is essentially an autobiographical film that makes it so special. It’s impossible to imagine how any other filmmaker could’ve carried out such intimate conversations with their subjects, but Bing’s willingness to engage with his friends, and also discuss his own upbringing so openly, creates something so unique and powerful that it simply could not have been replicated by anybody else.
It’s in these moments of self-reflection that the film finds its power, but the standout moments come from the fly-on-the-wall perspective we are given as we see the people live their day-to-day lives, much of which is extremely difficult to watch. The film isn’t forcing its message to the viewer, choosing to simply invite them into their lives and see things the way they are. What we take away from it is almost entirely up to us, and it would be impossible to come away from Minding The Gap not feeling something.
Despite the film’s tough subject matter, it ends with a strong and uplifting feeling of hope. Perhaps that’s the result of Bing, Zack and Keire, all of whom display a great deal of maturity and emotional intelligence throughout, in spite of everything they’re discussing.
The skating sequences look terrific, but the film’s strongest asset is its intimate and personal look at adolescence, through the eyes of three young men dealing with a great deal of trauma, growing up in the desolate town of Rockford, Illinois. It naturally creates a feeling the likes of which Boyhood could only dream of fabricating, as it gets to grips with why it is these friends need each other and why exactly they find skating such an effective escape from reality.
It’s a powerful reminder of what’s important in life, and a story capable of connecting to each and every viewer in some way. Minding The Gap is the kind of relatable documentary that is so incredibly rare; a real story presented in the only way its director knew how. It will be interesting to see what Bing Liu goes on to create, but there is no doubt that his debut is something truly special.
By Fergus Henderson. Cinema is the healthiest it has been in years. In the age of streaming people are still making the trip. It will never, however, reach the heights it knew half a century ago. A cinema trip now is for many simply a thing to do when other plans fail. Back then it was the thing to do, something filled with excitement and discovery, buoyed by the apparently never-ending cultural ascendance of film.
Back then film reigned over the cultural landscape. Back then you could erect a huge screen in a field and people would drive for miles to sit in their cars and watch a film on it. This documentary, directed and edited by Alexander Monelli, is about one of those drive-ins, the Mahoning, and the passionate nerds trying to keep it alive.
To anyone devoted to film the concept of a drive-in seems self-explanatory. And yet to take a look at one, a sight that immediately transports one to the mid 20th century, it is clear why the Mahoning is floundering. It is a relic. Aging head honcho Jeff, a projectionist since the 70s, is nervous about its future. As the film reminds us at the beginning, of the past 4000 plus drive-ins, only 300 still operate.
Monelli is discreet and unassuming behind the camera, and indeed the subject and surroundings speak for themselves. When we meet Jeff he is railing against digital and proselytising the value of 35mm film. The town of Lehighton, Pennsylvania where the Mahoning resides is a sleepy rain soaked place. A lonely image of obsolescence and sadness begins to form.
Jeff is joined by recent partners Matt and Virgil, two much younger film-grads, who hope to lead the Mahoning into the present day. They share Jeff’s passion for older technology (Matt, a somewhat uncomfortable and anxious man, prides himself on not owning a smart phone). But things are different for Jeff.
Without wishing to psychoanalyse them too much, it is clear that both Matt and Virgil are two nerdy guys who do what nerds do, expressing and realising their love for a specific aspect of culture that resonates with them. Virgil in particular ties it to memories of childhood, when things were “pure” and he had not yet experienced how one loses one’s love. There is a complex of cultural history, a wealth of historical signifiers, a desire for an imagined place outwith the present, which draws them to the drive-in.
For Jeff, this is and has always been his life. He has been there since it was a hot business, and has stayed with it as it has dwindled. Monelli does impressive work in inferring that despite Matt and Virgil’s deification of Jeff, he is at a very different stage in life and viewing the whole thing very differently to them. We learn, in one poignant moment, that he regrets not having children, having never been able to make a relationship last.
//www.youtube.com/watch?v=JOM6loYiRxM
Indeed, the changing face of film fandom and film culture becomes a kind of unaddressed subtext. Here is Jeff, who worked as a projectionist during a time when your average punter wouldn’t think twice about going to the drive-in. Now, as his occupation becomes increasingly obsolete, its protectors and celebrators are nerds and film geeks, far outside the mainstream.
The documentary follows the Mahoning’s 2016 season, curated by Matt and Virgil, as they try and recoup their losses (securing prints and running electricity keeps the profit margin very high) They’re trying to rebuild the Mahoning brand. We follow the unglamorous beginnings as they set everything up, sleeping on air mattresses over long weekends, desperately trying to spruce up the degraded cultural artefact, animating it with their passion and dedication. Eventually, things turn around.
The film reaches a beautiful high when the nerdery of the film community, something Matt and Virgil keenly tap into with their horror film festival, proves that though film may not be the total cultural force that it was, the people that celebrate it will keep it alive through their support.
All of the efforts the team put in, as sad and futile as it appears at the film’s beginning, are justified and redeemed. Here Monelli basks in the beauty of the community’s passion and dedication. Film going might have lost its glamour, but instead it has drawn in those that need it. Many people towards the end use the word family to describe the experience. It is a triumphant and heart-warming end to a skilfully made, unassuming documentary that totally blindsides with its insight and depth.
