William James Murray. Not since David Bowie have illustrators been so fascinated by one man’s face. One thing the two hold in common is the variety of characters that they have portrayed while remaining recognisably themselves. And why stop there? The illustrators in this publication have imagined Bill Murray as characters beyond his acting CV (Original Gangster; Punk; Yoda).
Crying on the Inside by Tony Pro
The Art of Being Bill found its origins in The Murray Affair: a touring exhibition of Bill Murray portraits curated by Ezra Croft. Collaborating with writer Jennifer Raiser, this publication has a lot of heart, and is bursting with Murray trivia. The golfing jumper patterned endpapers are a nice touch.
Shine a Light by Thorsten Schmitt
The writing at times is overly florid, with heavy-handed puns and alliteration. It is a great book to dip into, rather than to read in one sitting. The artists are given the opportunity to share the inspiration for their creations, in a section hidden away at the back of the publication. It is a delight to read in these brief paragraphs, often amusing and personal, how passionate they are about Bill Murray and his films.
The Art of Being Bill is an inspiring, if not exhaustive compilation of portraits and film summaries. Mercifully no mention of Garfield, but sadly no write-up on Coffee & Cigarettes or Charlie’s Angels (laugh if you will, but remember he uses his teeth to carve a gun out of a giant piece of soap in that one). The book is an obvious hit for owners of that other Murray-themed book, Belly Kids’ Thrill Murray, but with an entirely fresh list of artists.
The Predator series is one that hasn’t exactly lived up to its potential. The first film was a terrific film, and my personal favourite Arnold Schwarzenegger film. It’s a simple premise, done with the best possible execution. It works on many levels, as an action film, a horror film, a satire – but it succeeds most at being entertaining. Following this was the dull and at times unpleasant, but entirely respectably made Predator 2; the tonnes of fun, but little else Predators and two failed Alien Vs Predator films. Much like the Jurassic Park and Die Hard series, the best we could get from the sequels was just a bit of fun. None coming anywhere close. But this time, things look promising.
The Predator is directed by Shane Black, an acclaimed writer and director (whose last film was the excellent The Nice Guys) who even starred in the first Predator as Hawkins. Helping out with the script is Fred Dekker, writer/director of Monster Squad among others. The cast is all-stars who have gained enough acclaim throughout their careers, including Boyd Holbrooke, Olivia Munn, Sterling K Brown, Thomas Jane and Keegan-Michael Kay. Topping it off with the producers of the original film, this looked to be a hit. What could go wrong? Or should I say, what did go wrong?
Normally I’d dedicate a paragraph or so to describing the film’s plot. But I won’t here, simply because I have no idea what happened in this film. It’s completely nonsensical! Yes, Annihilation was more complex and Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom was possibly stupider – but I understood what was going on in both of them. This is a special kind of bad story-telling. I’ve complained about films being too overly complicated a lot these past years, but it’s not often that over eight major stories are playing at once. Come the end, when people are slaughtered left, right and centre, it doesn’t feel like people dying. It feels like plot threads being cut off.
What baffles me the most about this whole film is not just that it was bad. Very bad, truth be told. It’s that despite all the talent behind and in front of the camera, I’m inclined to call the film making incompetent. I’m now used to seeing the films I love being cashed-in, and usually in poor or just bland films that nobody remembers (I think the world forgot Robocop as soon as they left the cinema). But I’ll give them credit, they’re not usually this bad! The script is awful, banking too much on references and swearing to the point where even a “potty-mouth” like me wanted them to stop it. The directing is pedestrian, again surprisingly so considering who’s directing it. The effects are, for the most part, garbage too. Honestly, it’s a laughably bad film for the most part. Being fair, that is what kept me from leaving the cinema.
On the topic of being fair, there are thing’s the film gets right. The acting, while hampered by the words they are speaking, is very good. The actors are mostly charming and charismatic. Thomas Jane stood out to me, even though his character is insultingly used throughout the film. Before the big predator arrives, in its fully poorly rendered CG glory, the smaller one we are given is a man in a very convincing suit. I was wowed by it, something that hasn’t happened much lately. There’s some fun action and gore, particularly towards the beginning. That’s it though, the rest I hated.
In defence of the comedic take, I can see why they did it. To make this a parody of older action films is welcomed (the first Predator being a subversion of said films itself). The problem is that they failed miserably at it. Not only are the jokes not funny, they can rub you the wrong way. Disability isn’t treaded kindly, or even accurately in this film. Tourette syndrome and autism being the main (and cheapest) jabs. I heard that the entire third act (which is the worst part of the film) was almost entirely reshot. That’s nothing new in films and happens more than you’d think, even to some of the best films you’ve seen. But this time it does feel like the studio tried to save the film from something awful, and made it worse. On a related note, when I have to look up if a character actually died, because his death scene lasted less than a second, then something has definitely gone wrong somewhere.
The Predator feels like the accumulation of the issues that plague the studio films these days. It’s soulless, thoughtless and attempting to set up sequels that I hope never see the light of day. It’s also poorly constructed, executed and best of luck trying to figure out what’s going on. It’s easily the worst of the stand alone Predator films, and I’d even go as far to call it worse than the first AVP film. Between this and Alien Covenant (which was a better film, I’ll add), I think I’ve reached my limit with these series. If you really enjoy films that are hilariously bad, if you actively seek out something to laugh at and not with, then there is something here for you. Otherwise I promise, you’ll be begging for the simplicity of Arnie fighting an alien in the jungle after the first scene.
Is it wrong to say someone has a short attention span if they cannot concentrate on reading a book, but spend hours at a time playing video games? Kogonada’s debut feature discusses morality, opinion, uncertainty, and most of all humanity, without ever feeling like a philosophy lecture. The film isn’t about any of these topics, it is simply about people: their actions and emotions. Two stories intertwine in a city known for its incredible architectural features; two people stuck in a sort of limbo because of those they love.
The first of these stories follows Casey, a 19 year old resident of Columbus played by the startlingly brilliant Haley Lu Richardson. Casey avoids going to college in favour of staying with her mother (Michelle Forbes), who has recently gotten over an addiction to meth. Casey’s situation mirrors Charlie’s from Lean on Pete; a young person who has been forced to grow up too fast, and take care both of themselves and others before they are mature enough to do so. Though she spends most of the film denying this, Richardson shines in the rare moments in which Casey is honest to herself – dancing wildly in a dark car park to no music, or talking passionately about architecture without resorting to her tour guide persona.
https://youtu.be/mAK3_LEjtUs
While Casey seems happy to stay in Columbus, Jin’s departure cannot come quickly enough. Jin, played by John Cho, is the son of a professor of architecture, flying in from South Korea when his father takes ill whilst visiting the city. With the professor comatose, Jin wallows, avoiding connection with his father’s girlfriend Eleanor (Parker Posey). Cho is effortlessly watchable, as powerful in silence as he is when delivering lines with a calculated precision and understated emotional complexity reminiscent of Brad Pitt at his best. There is something that immediately links Casey and Jin when they meet, perhaps a shared notion of loneliness or uncertainty. Casey proceeds to tour Jin around the modernist landmarks she knows so well, both of them trying to make sense of Jin’s father’s notebook. Kogonada’s ability to craft such realistic, layered dialogue is impressive, often recalling the effortless enjoyment and intrigue of spending a day with Jesse and Celine in the before trilogy.
It is rare that the characters’ faces are seen in full; Kogonada choosing instead to shoot the actors from behind, or to show their reflection in a mirror. The effect is paradoxically distancing and captivating, as if the characters are perpetually hiding a part of themselves. The technique is complimented wonderfully by Elisha Christian’s cinematography. There is a picturesque attention to detail that could rival a Wes Anderson film, but without the overt, gaudy qualities inherent in Anderson’s style. Each frame could be its own piece of art, but the art always utterly real, never stylised. The leads are supported fantastically by Forbes, but Posey’s harsh deliberateness electrifies scenes with deeper emotion. As Casey’s librarian co-worker Gabriel, Rory Culkin’s passion and reserve in turns are magnificent, and his chemistry with Richardson is note perfect.
Haley Lu Richardson and John Cho appear in Columbus by Kogonada.
The most beautiful moments of Kogonada’s film, whether they are uplifting or heart-wrenching, are the moments of pure honesty. As a comment on humanity, it feels not only natural, but subtly melancholy. If Kogonada is highlighting the relief that accompanies truth, he is also explaining that its effect is strongest when following sustained emotional unavailability, or worse, dishonesty. And what does that say about modern relationships, about friendship and love? Then again, perhaps Kogonada is merely telling us a simple story. A story filled with heart, loneliness and magic, about two people who happen to coexist, for a time, in Columbus, Indiana.
Never Here is a twisted tale, with confusion at its heart. The story follows an artist, Miranda Fall (Merielle Enos), who becomes embroiled in a police investigation of an attack that occurred outside her street. The victim is her interviewer, who was in her apartment that morning. And when she recognises a person in a line-up to be a man who was present at her exhibit, these details become too irresistible for her to investigate and explore.
It’s a tale of shifting perspectives and blurred boundaries. Things get dark, and secrets come to light.
The premise is presented at the beginning in an exploitative interview where the artists speaks of seeing life through prisms, such as phones, computers, even handbags. The freaky camerawork push forward the story-line of confusing viewpoints, with perspective frequently shifting through clever cuts and shadows. The artists begins to become increasingly paranoid as she chooses to investigate the attack herself, even though her old friend and on and off lover, a cop on the case, tells her it was closed.
Enos as Miranda Hall, the questioning artist.
She seems intensely invested in invading everyone’s privacy, and the movie explores the effect of the cosmic karma this might cause. One of her exhibits is entirely made from a phone she found on the street, exposing his entire life for the profit of her own gallery. The fact that the man in question shows up and strongly condemns her, gives her a sense of unease and craving for the rest of the story that intensify her character and give good justification to her choices.
The dark lighting enhance the effect of the movie, which is a winding, if at sometimes slow thriller.
The film is more concerned with disorienting the viewer than it is keeping the story’s momentum. As the plot grows more and more twisted, it’s enjoyable, but sometimes the weirdness of the story becomes just … too weird.
Enos is a great actress, and she embraces this role with fervour. Her previous work in The Killing proved her to be a strong and silent hero, enjoyable to watch with her intensity. Here, the airiness of her demeanour sometimes result in strange delivery of what is ordinary lines; the characters interrupting each other lend more to jarring dialogue than naturalistic conversation.
This enigmatic thriller is a good one. It keeps you guessing. The lack of trust, privacy, and the unknown combine with interesting techniques that take you from scene to scene, day to day, climb to climax. A satisfying story and good acting keep this twisty thriller spinning nicely.
‘One Bedroom’ is the new feature film from writer/director Darien Sills-Evans. The comedian also stars in the film alongside Devin Nelson as our two leads, Nate and Melissa, a couple spending their last day together, while going through a nasty breakup. Melissa suspects Nate of cheating, while Nate has reservations of his own. It’s a comedy-drama set largely in one Brooklyn apartment, as Melissa packs up her things to leave Nate for good.
It’s a flawed film with a lot of interesting ideas at the heart of it. There is plenty to like about ‘One Bedroom’, with the film’s two stars being the standouts. Sills-Evans and Nelson share a great deal of chemistry, and their charisma makes the material far more engaging than it perhaps should be. This is Nelson’s first feature-length film, but you wouldn’t know it. She shines alongside her far more experienced co-star.
The film is very dialogue-heavy, with its minimal location carrying the feeling of a stage play. The script has its ups and downs, but the material between Nate and Melissa works terrifically. It feels surprisingly like a real conversation, well-delivered by strong performers, and progressing at a natural pace.
The breakup is essentially told in a flashback by Nate as he reflects on it with his friends in a local barber shop. These scenes aren’t quite as engaging as the rest. The film cuts from the interesting plot developments so that we can simply see what his friends have to say about all of it, when the truth is that the audience has no reason to care about their insight. It’s a needless commentary filled with obvious and often stereotypical jokes, that doesn’t add a whole lot to the narrative. One can’t help but think the film may have flowed better without this element.
The flashbacks to the beginning of Nate and Melissa’s blossoming relationship work well, because they directly add to the film’s overall narrative, while still following the story’s most engaging characters, but the barber shop scenes fail to add either of these things.
The film is extremely independent. It’s low budget and it shows, but this isn’t meant as a criticism. Whether intentional or simply a result of budget constraints, this look actually works well for the film, as Sills-Evans tells a very low-key story that is clearly intended to feel as real as possible.
The breakup has moments of exaggeration, but this is simply for comedic effect, and the comedy works for the most part, relying on character interaction as opposed to cheap gags. The majority of what we see actually feels fairly close to home, with the two main characters dealing with relatable problems for anyone who’s ever been in a serious relationship.
It can be hard at times to like Nate and Melissa as people. Honestly, they’re both in the wrong in a number of ways, so it’s difficult at first to really care about the relationship being broken, but as the film goes on and the characters reveal themselves to be far more human as we’d perhaps first thought, this problem quickly fades and it all leads to an ending that undoubtedly makes the film what it is. One of the benefits of an independent production is the freedom a filmmaker has to break the rules, and the closing minutes of ‘One Bedroom’ are actually quite brilliant.
One concern for the film was that it may focus too much on the politics of gentrification, as opposed to simply telling an interesting story. It opens with a slam poem by DeAriesha Mack about this precise subject, but it’s never really mentioned again nor does it feel part of the story. This is a welcome surprise, as Sills-Evans doesn’t become distracted by the politics, instead focusing solely on the central romance, but it does lead to the film’s opening minutes feeling incredibly out-of-place and unnecessary.
‘One Bedroom’ has many positives to take away from it. It’s a very different take on the rom-com genre than we’re used to, that functions on well-written dialogue and solid lead performances, and a genuinely surprising story with a satisfying conclusion. On the other hand, it has its problems. The continuity can be messy, with the barber shop scenes making you wonder whether that’s an issue that could’ve been easily avoided. At times, it makes as many stereotypes as it’s clearly aiming to debunk, and the gentrification element felt largely forced.
The truth is that these elements could simply stem from a filmmaker fairly new to this stage of his career, and if there is one thing to take away from ‘One Bedroom’, it’s that Sills-Evans clearly has a lot to say and a vast amount of potential to be explored in the future.
