Jafar Panahi’s 3 Faces is a thoughtful portrayal of gender roles in contemporary Iran.
Accompanied by well-known actress Behnaz Jafari, Panahi travels from Tehran to a rural village to investigate the fate of a young actress who has appealed for Jafari’s help. Jafari and Panahi play fictionalised versions of themselves – a method Panahi has previously used to comic effect in his 2015 feature Taxi.
A video of the girl, Marziyeh Rezaei, apparently committing suicide has been sent to Jafari, leaving the actress distraught. There is doubt on the veracity of the video from the outset, with Behnaz Jafari stewing in her own impatience and uncertainty. This impatience is at odds with the unhurried nature of the villagers they encounter. They are eager to share their stories with her, but she is too distracted to listen.
Rezaei and Jafari are two of the titular three faces, and the third is Madam Shahrzad, an actress from pre-revolution Iran, who is an outcast in the village. She lives a solitary life, rising at dawn to paint the landscape. She is only ever glimpsed from a distance, and the audience is unable to reach or understand her.
Despite being set out in the countryside, cinematographer Amin Jafari creates a claustrophobic atmosphere. Often with a narrow field of vision, small houses, skinny paths, and the single track road are filmed within the frame of Panahi’s car. Behnaz Jafari is eager to escape the confines of the vehicle wherever possible.
3 Faces explores the attitude that the villagers have about women and education. Seeking an education is referred to as ‘empty headed’, and actors are described as ‘entertainers’ – a pejorative term. Although the villagers are somewhat star-struck when Jafari and Panahi arrive. The people in the village believe in the status quo – a system that will protect them. In this system, the men play the leading roles, while the women support them, happily or not. As one villager states “Everything falls apart without rules”.
3 Faces is a story about dichotomy. A series of disputes where each side believes things to be rigid and binary. Panahi is skilled in showing the audience not only this tension, but the grey areas that the protagonists cannot see.
I’ve never watched an hour long special of “Neighbours”, but I can imagine what one would be like now I’ve watched Friends, Foes and Fireworks. I also thought I’d never hear a worse British accent than Shia LeBeouf’s in Nymphomaniac, but he’s been defeated by Daniel Hill who has the most Australian sounding Manchester accent I’ve ever heard.
Sarah Jayne and Ivan Malekin’s awkward drama follows four friends and Manchester dude as they celebrate New Year’s Eve, Melbourne style. Fiona (Lara Deam) is hosting and appears to be suffering from anxiety about something (I never found out what this was). As the guests arrive, a lot of dialogue that seems improved ensues.They all seem to be in the acting business and struggling with work.
One of them, Lucinda (Whitney Duff) has just returned from the UK where, apparently, acting work is WAY easier to get (?). She has returned with a boob job and a new beau, Taron the Manchaustralian. Something has gone on between her and Summer (Asleen Mauthoor) before she left for the UK, and acting coach Sofia (Genya Mik) is finding it difficult to tell Lucinda (Zoe Cross) that her acting is utter rubbish… “Neighbours, everybody needs good neighbours…” (I wish the film’s soundtrack was as catchy as this).
I appreciate this film was done on a budget, however watching this film kept me in a constant state of awkwardness. Between the stunted dialogue, boring characters, long shots of black between scenes and Taron, I was relieved when the climatic fireworks display ousted out everyone’s truths, because I knew it was nearly the end of this painful watch The few positives I got from this film were that a) New Years Eve in Melbourne looks warm and friendly, and b) The opening sequence animation was really good.
By Fergus Henderson. “Calvin Lewis, you have a lot of living to do.” It’s true. Calvin (Asa Butterfield) is a terminal hypochondriac college drop-out who works with his dad lugging bags onto airplanes. He keeps a ‘symptom journal’ of his every imagined malady and wastes his family’s dwindling money on taking as many tests as possible to find diseases he doesn’t have. His primary focus is on how likely he is to die, and how soon that might be. It will take meeting Skye (Maisie Williams) at a cancer support group, something his doctor hopes will give him perspective, for him to realise the value of living.
Skye, who does actually have cancer, latches onto Calvin immediately. It’s all down in her ‘to-die list’: one item compels her to help a loser like Calvin out. Luckily, mercifully, the film does not work to make these two late-teen weirdos a couple. It instead makes good on the promise signalled by Skye’s manic pixie outfit and sets about using Skye’s character to unburden Calvin of his chronic awkwardness.
Or so it would initially seem. For its first half Departures breezes along in a series of happy montages in which Skye ticks off some of the quirkier items on her list (acting Hamlet in the park, shoplifting, spraypainting) whilst setting an energetic example for Calvin, rebuilding his confidence so that he can ask out his crush, colleague Izzy (Nina Dobrev).
If this all sounds a little by-the-books, it is. Calvin, as portrayed by Asa, is a sweet and awkward kid, but the film makes its female characters talk to him in that witty way that certain Juno-indebted films seem to imagine women talk to shy boys, no matter how damp and dull a squib they may be. You begin to worry that the film is simply going to use Skye’s character, played with exceptional vigour and warmth by Williams, in this way for the whole film.
After a little too long in this manner, all emotionally suggestive folk-lite music and even lighter humour, the film does find its feet and refocuses itself on the severity of Skye’s condition, the narrative taking a step back and foregrounding her over Calvin. Characters become more fully fleshed out. The balance of humour and drama is finessed. It begins to make more sense, and becomes a much better film.
Any conflicts prior to this (Skye’s emotionally distant best friend, Calvin becoming stuck in a lie about his fake cancer with Izzy) feel undercooked. They give the impression of being script contrivances needed to push the story to its eventual tipping point that might have looked good on page but are overshadowed by the heaviness of the film’s premise. You’re basically waiting for the film to feel as if it has truly started.
//www.youtube.com/watch?v=s0SJSwcnv4s
When it does, everything falls into place. Calvin’s troubled past and his family history are explored. The profound journey that Skye is going on is given proper attention (as are Maisie Williams’ acting chops). Ken Jeong, always a welcome and effortlessly funny presence, makes a few brief cameos as a cop, Officer Al, with an intense emotional investment in Calvin and Skye. I was shocked to find myself genuinely moved by the film’s end, even despite the fundamentally schlocky approach the film takes throughout.
As understandable as it must have seemed, keeping the more serious moments for the film’s final third, if the film could have proceeded from the start within that register and with a more raw tone, it might have been a more satisfying experience. It is let down by an insistence on fast-talking, gentle comedy that will make its intended teen audience smile more than laugh. If it had set its sights on the audience’s hearts right from the off it could have landed on a more resonant note. As it is, Departures is a sweet film. What it lacks in its formulaic filmmaking it makes up for with its strong performances. It just doesn’t have a strong enough voice.
“Love is an acquired taste” reads the tagline for Little Italy, a Canadian romantic comedy about former childhood sweethearts that find themselves on either side of a feud between their family’s neighbouring pizza parlours. But the latest rom-com from How to Lose a Guy in Ten Days director Donald Petrie would struggle to satisfy even the most forgiving of tastes considering the films tonally imbalanced and oftentimes needlessly crass script. When the best joke in a romantic comedy shamelessly apes on a Gordon Ramsay meme, you’ve got problems.
Having been rivals as kids and now all grown up, Nikki (Emma Roberts) is a high-flying chef in London while Leo (Hayden Christensen) still works at his father’s pizza parlour.
His dad feuds on a daily basis with his former partner and now next door rival – who also happens to be Nikki’s Dad. Little Italy is a Romeo and Juliet-style love story then, only with marinara sauce and football (for some reason) thrown in.
The two leads are pleasant enough, with Roberts the clear standout offering great charm and the certain sweetness you’d expect from the leading lady of a romantic comedy. Christensen however never really extends past the “good looking guy with a cute smile” schlock – and that’s no fault of his own, it’s just how threadbare and basic the script allows him to be. His Italian aesthetic and accent are both pretty hilarious though. It looks like he was bathing in Hawaiian tropic and bought some Just For Men in bulk. The Italian schtick is so weird – particularly in night scenes lit by generic neon – it appears they’re trying to age the 37-year-old past his years to look like a middle aged mafia man fresh from a stint on the Sopranos.
The Mystic Pizza director takes cues from his past success – using a pizza parlour as the set of most of the action – but unlike Petrie’s late 80s cult classic, Little Italy is completely void of the charisma that made Julia Roberts’ debut launch her into superstardom. Do The Right Thing’s pizza shop owner Danny Aiello also pops up as the jolly granddad of Christensen’s character in another nod to classic pizza-based cinema. But rather than evoke these gems of yesteryear, seeing Sal only makes you yearn for something even remotely close to those classic flicks.
Trying to garner the flavour of other culinary movies like John Favreau’s excellent Chef, it unfortunately misses the mark when it comes to both the charm and wit Favreau clocked-up with ease from his low-key yet stellar 2014 effort. Unfortunately for Petrie, the comedy in Little Italy is largely low brow with physical comedy skits that should be easy wins but instead come across as forced and oftentimes cringeworthy. A pat down from a middle-aged female police officer is a particular low point, as Anakin Skywalker is inappropriately felt up by a woman twice his age all the while making jokes about his physique as leery bystanders look on laughing.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eCjkhFxNwUQ
It’s not just the out of place sexual assault that jars, constant out of touch references to millennials, and being “modern” make for toe-curling viewing on occasion. Nikki tries to strike a chord as a ‘strong independent woman’ but the go-getting career girl character type seems a little unremarkable in the modern age. Not to mention the Indian characters on both sides of the pizza wars, who initially appear as the comic relief but unfortunately come across as a bit low key racist. Not like full blown Fisher-Stevens-in-Short-Circuit” racist, but enough to be classed as dated and borderline offensive – no matter how casual it may be. Even worse is the fact they just completely disappear about half way through. Not Leo’s fake tan though, that’s there for the duration.
If you had to wheedle some sort of positive from Little Italy, like in a forced kind of way, there are a couple of sweet moments in there to its credit: The secret friendship between the mums draws a smile, and Emma Roberts is actually quite endearing as the prodigal daughter returning home from her high-flying chef job in the UK. She’s more often than not really charming as Nikki, without ever being agonisingly smug or portrayed merely as eye candy, and that is quite refreshing to see.
Little Italy currently sits at 21% on Rotten Tomatoes, and it’s no surprise to see why. The tone is completely all over the place. Shot with a light-hearted, whimsical style, the awfully formulaic script is filled with low brow toilet humour and peppered with profanity for no real reason. The conflict is jarring as a result, and with two pensioners at it like rabbits and a constant leer over Hayden Christensen, it’s an uncomfortable watch for the most part. Awkward parental chats about sex, a visit to a curry house purely to make a lewd pun, and the aforementioned seedy cop pat down are out of touch and completely miss the mark.
…I am super jealous of Leo’s wood burning pizza oven in his kitchen though.
Little Italy is released on VOD on the 11th of March.
The problem in telling someone else’s story is where do you start and where do you end. Ruth Bader Ginsburg is a titan in every sense of the word and deserved a better film. Her story is one that needs to be told but the hard bits, the truly gritty parts, shouldn’t be romanticised. What we get in On The Basis of Sex is a thoroughly romanticised, happy look at the landmark case that led to sexual equality.
She’s a fighter and yet, On The Basis of Sex, leads us to believe that it is her daughter and husband that gave her the courage to pursue this case. It is clear that their marriage is avant garde for the time – an equal partnership – but let us not diminish Ruth’s achievements. We get to see a little of that aside from the courtroom set piece but even that doesn’t ignite as it should.
This is a formidable woman and yet she comes across as a timid mouse. Ruth Bader Ginsberg deserved better than this as did we all. This film is a timely reminder that the natural of things can change and should. Gender politics are explored in great overtures in the film but the best part of the film is when Ruth and her husband are walking back from a party and she says “all the little the brush offs matter” and it is at this point that you think “we’re in business” but no the film goes in the other direction.
That for me is the film. As a woman watching that is what predominately men couldn’t and possibly still don’t get those brush offs are the ones that sting. I wish that was the film that was made that showed how she dealt with that. Instead, On The Basis Of Sex is a formulaic biopic which is clearly endorsed because the real Ruth Bader Ginsberg turns up a the end.
Felicity Jones and Armie Hammer both give worthy performances. Felicity has such spark but feels wasted in this film the script just didn’t leave very much room for her to really shine.
This is a dvd rather than going to watch in the cinema.
On the Basis of Sex was released in UK cinemas on 22 February.
