Directed, written and starring Lauren Cooney and Isaac ‘ICEY’ Tomiczek this is the sequel to their first short film, Shut Eye (2016).
Shut Eye 2 (2017) is very meta. When Lauren and Isaac go to the Cucalorus Film Festival in Wilmington NC it is to showcase their first feature the duo did called, Shut Eye which has the vibe of Trainspotting (1996) mixed with the dangerous dinner party horror, The Invitation (2015), along with of course Lauren and Isaac’s current story in Shut Eye 2.
This short has all the inklings to suggest it could go down a (the) Blair Witch Project (1999) pathway. There are the warning signs that only one of the filmmakers returns back and a scene where Isaac and Lauren go into the woods to even talk about murders that have happened there. Yet Shut Eye 2 is quite an original idea. It connects us to substance abuse and the way it could lead to violence even turning to psychological breakdowns, connecting these two as a collective in our society.
Here’s the first film:
It does tacks on the same ideas, which can be affiliated with President Donald Trump’s leadership though and how this has caused people to react and be paranoid and divided. In this regard, perhaps Shut Eye 2 would be more beneficial as a feature presentation; it could really articulate its core themes and physiological horror strengths. But for now, this is a great little short to be enjoyed.
You know that bit in Hereditary where Toni Collette repeatedly smashes her head against the ceiling? That’s like the metaphor for watching Bennett’s Song.
Okay, that’s super harsh. I’m sorry. A lot of effort goes into making a film, and a lot of people work hard, and so I always feel kind of bad when I know that I really didn’t like something. It’s not that Bennett’s Song is offensive, or even that it’s terrible, it’s just that it’s incredibly dull, meandering, poorly written and, well… okay, it’s bad. I’m sorry. I really am.
Telling the story of two forty-something people who think they’ll never find love but suddenly do, which each other, but then morphing into the story of two people who each have seven kids who somehow miraculously meet, decide to get married and then, one of the kids writes a song, or something. I don’t know. It doesn’t know what it wants to be. That’s part of the problem.
It plays out like three movies in one, with each act almost becoming it’s own short film. Bennett’s Song has its heart in the right place, but not much else. The dialogue is stiff and awkward, it very much tells the audience everything, rather than showing it, and it just goes on and on and on, never really going anywhere, and without even half as much meaning as it thinks it had.
Look, I like the idea of a film about a family made up of lots of different people from lots of different cultures, and I’ll admit that I can’t help enjoying anything that takes time out of it’s main plot to have a scene where characters sit down and explicitly discuss why racism is bad and racists are… well, dumb, but the problem here is that Bennett’s Song is constantly taking time out to focus on other things.
There are so many little subplots that just fizzle out or disappear entirely, there are scenes that seem to directly contradict things that happen next (weren’t the kids supposed to meet the dad’s new girlfriend? Wasn’t that a thing? Where the hell did that go?), and it jumps on any and every opportunity to have a “heartfelt” moment where one character announces their love for another or gives some emotional speech about something.
But perhaps Bennett’s Song’s biggest flaw is in its confusion about who it’s meant for. It looks like a drama, plays like a family comedy that should probably feature Steve Martin in the backend of his career, sounds like it thinks it’s something directed by Richard Curtis and never really meshes these disparate elements together into a cohesive or enjoyable whole.
I found it a struggle to get through, I’m not going to lie.
Normally when I dislike I movie I can sit down and consider just why, and normally it winds up being that it’s simply just not a movie for me (and seriously, I like everything. I think the Hugh Grant/Drew Barrymore rom-com Music and Lyrics is woefully underappreciated and I will sing along to Pop! Goes My Heart if it ever comes up… no joke), but Bennett’s Song should, in theory hit the right notes for me. It’s got a good message, it works outside of the studio system and it doesn’t follow a strict conventional structure, but I just couldn’t like it.
Mostly what it comes down to is a poor script that needed a couple more rewrites and a director who knows when to aim for a big emotional moment and when to hold back and simply just allow a moment to be.
There were a couple of parts that made me smile, but mostly it just bored me. Endless conversation after endless conversation, with characters announcing how they feel (you can’t do that! That makes me feel angry!) and ideas that are never fully explored or developed. I was waiting for something to happen with Tara Reid’s neighbour, who takes an instant dislike to the family of… wait, let me do the math… seventeen – including the Grandma – but, ultimately, she winds up just being a bit of a dick with no real motive. She stops one character from using a video, but then returns it later anyway, and, in the end, everything is sort of just solved by a magic talk-show that apparently has the power to do absolutely everything.
I want to tell you to watch Bennett’s Song, an independently produced family comedy that tries something new and has a great message, but I can’t. It’s not quite Toni Collette smashing her head against the ceiling, but another half hour and it probably would have been.
The name Wilfred Owen may be more familiar to some than others. When his name is first invoked in The Burying Party, each audience member will react in one of three ways: either they’ll be on board straight away, find the name rings a bell, or be none the wiser. However deep your knowledge of the renowned soldier and wartime poet, though, Richard Weston provides a comprehensive and handsomely staged recount of his life, The Burying Party, which caters to all.
When we first see Owen (played by Matthew Staite) he is back home, recovering from shell shock – as evidenced by the flashbacks he keeps having. He is writing, but his time on the battlefield has left him so timid and unsure of himself, he won’t even share his work with his own mother. All that changes when he meets fellow soldier Siegfried Sassoon (Sid Phoenix).
Showing an understanding of his mindset, Sassoon encourages Owen to let him read his poems. From this exchange, a bond forms between the pair. Sassoon introduces him a literary circle that includes Robert Graves (Will Burren) and CK Scott Moncrieff (Harry Owens), who Owen starts to form an attachment to. Is it to help get his work published, to use Moncrieff’s connections to stop his redeployment, or is it something more?
As Owen’s relationship with Moncrieff grows, though, Sassoon becomes concerned. He claims to be fearful of Moncrieff’s influence over Owen and the effect it will have on his poems, but it’s obvious something else is going on.
https://vimeo.com/260254520
For the unknowing, while it has never been confirmed, it has long been speculated that Owen and Sassoon were gay, though there is little with which to prove this. The film, understandably, feels the need to address Owen’s private life, but with little historical evidence to go on, it doesn’t really know how to approach the matter. As such, nothing that is explored is really answered.
The film does well to cover the rest of Owen’s life, in particular his short prominence as a poet. This is clearly an important subject for Weston, and co-writer Laurence Thompson, who have visibly performed extensive research on this period of history to create as definitive a portrait of Owen as possible.
The effort that has gone into The Burying Party is unquestionable: it’s well-photographed by Meurig Marshall, which is heightened by great attention to period detail – all of which capture the time period with authenticity and accuracy. One element used to great effect in the film is having well-chosen extracts of Owen’s poetry told in voiceover, which help add to the story and give insight into his mindset at the time.
That being said, the film doesn’t do anything really surprising with its narrative, and by staying on rails it can end up feeling quite effect-less. Whereas we want to get more invested in Owen and Sassoon’s growing relationship, even the uninitiated can tell nothing will come of it. Also problematic is that, while the film tries hard to provide something for all audiences, with its staging and production values it feels most like it’s trying to win over awards juries.
The Burying Party is a well made film that categorically covers Wilfred Owen’s life in a way that is accessible and of value to all who will see it. However, it’s held back by its overly-familiar structure and by asking more questions than it has the answers for.
Colin Burstead (Neil Maskell) is getting ready for a party. As the film’s title suggests, it’s New Year’s Eve, and Colin has rented a mansion where he and his family will celebrate the special day. But it’s a four hour drive away, as he is repeatedly reminded when extended family members and a few friends begin to arrive. And that isn’t the only issue with the night’s festivities. Someone was left off the invite list, a brother who subsequently has been told he can come.
What ensues is a fascinating cycle of cruelty and blame avoidance. Colin’s sister, Gini (Hayley Squires) has been in contact with estranged brother David (Sam Riley), though she insists she doesn’t actually want him there. She has invited him for the sake of their mother, played by Doon Mackichan, to reconcile a relationship damaged by David’s affair five years earlier. And their father (Bill Paterson) desperately needs to talk to David about business.
But Colin doesn’t care about any of this, he just wants to show off how much he can afford to pay for. Watching these dynamics unfold is both cringy and gleeful, often simultaneously – the dialogue writer/director Ben Wheatley has crafted sparkles and zings, and is effortlessly revealing. There is no hero here, no one to pull the five of them together past the problems they share, and each is determined to pin faults on the others. In the end, no one at the party is in the right, but someone must be scapegoated.
The conflict is only added to by the surrounding characters, but in such a way that hilarity encompasses moments that might otherwise feel uncomfortable. The chief culprit is Asim Chaudhry, playing Sham, the son of the Burstead’s close family friends. He has crashed the party in an attempt to win back the love of his ex-girlfriend, who is catering the event. As Sham rockets from misplaced arrogance to shallow depression and back again, Chaudhry delivers some of the film’s best one liners and gags. Elsewhere, Charles Dance soars as an odd uncle, and Alexandria Maria Lara’s outsider’s view of the family grounds the film firmly in reality, highlighting the nonsense. There is never time to languish on a single character or plot thread, though, as Wheatley masterfully cuts between characters every few seconds. The editing is astounding, propelling the piece from what might have been an intriguing stage play to a wonderfully realised film.
Happy New Year, Colin Burstead is a return for Wheatley to British territory after last year’s Free Fire, and his familiarity shows. If the end of the film feels a little anticlimactic, it only truthfully reflects the reality of the familial situation. The disagreements and idiosyncrasies of the characters are pitch perfect, reminiscent of the superb exchanges from Kill List. But the brutality of Kill List, as well as Sightseers and A Field in England, is missing here. Colin Burstead might just be Ben Wheatley’s most accessible film to date, but that isn’t a pro or a con. Simply, it is a film about family, one that is absolutely worth a watch.
Peripheral is a science fiction thriller that centers on Bobbi Johnson, a young author who has grown in popularity due to her first novel. Directed by Paul Hyett (Heretiks, Howl) the film tackles the dangers of a technology addiction. Starring Tom Conti, Rosie Day, Jenny Seagrove, Elliot Langridge, and Hannah Arterton as Bobbi Johnson. Peripheral does an amazing job with its visual imagery, and special effects but the story seems a bit incomplete in ways.
Characters come and go from scenes without explanation, and random moments of pleasure occur on screen without flowing with the rest of the film. Bobbi (Hannah Arterton) is a growing literature success and she even has her own stalker already. Struggling to write her second novel she receives a smart editing software from her publisher that begins to write Bobbi’s book for her. Peripheral seems to want to play with the idea of technology controlling reality if we are not careful with how it is used. The idea that technology can be controlling was presented on screen earlier in the year with Upgrade.
Peripheral struggles with keeping focus a bit and certain scenes offer nothing to the film and should have been cut. Witten by Dan Schaffer it appears that the character of Bobbi is part of a social thought control which could be the writer poking at society in the real world. Technology is expanding every day in society, and the future seems to lie in artificial intelligence being at the helm of everyone’s existence.
Bobbi’s newly installed artificial machine takes over her mind and begins deciding how it wants the narrative to play out. The film may not make complete sense upon first watch, but multiple viewings could assist in putting all the pieces together. Peripheral is a unique take on the dangers of technology and should be watched with an open mind.
Hannah Arterton gives a solid performance as the main lead, it is visually stunning, and although the film is heavily flawed there is still a lesson to be learned when watching Peripheral.
