The Danish Girl attempts to tell the story of Danish artist Einar Wegener who becomes Lili Elbe (Eddie Redmayne) the first individual to undergo transgender surgery in the 1920s. However, in the same way Einar Wegener painted beautiful landscapes this film by Tom Hooper sets out the premise in a flutter of eyelashes, luxurious furs and materials but never really seems to strain from the beauty and light to explore the raw and dark episodes; it’s almost a case of blink and you miss them.

Danish artist Einar Wegener who becomes Lili Elbe (Eddie Redmayne) is married to fellow artist Gerda Wegener (Alicia Vikander). He is the more successful of the two. When Gerda needs to complete a commission to paint a portrait of a ballerina she asks her husband, as a bit of fun, to hold the dress up and put on the stockings and shoes. It is in that moment that Lili starts to emerge, hidden away we learn since childhood through fear and a merciless beating from his father, and so the transition begins. Lili makes an appearance at a ball, with the permission of Gerda who sees it as a bit of fun, and immediately attracts the attention Henrik (Ben Whishaw). The consequences that follow from meeting Henrik are life changing for Gerda and Einar both professionally and personally. They later move to Paris and by sheer coincidence meet Einar’s childhood friend Hans Axgil (Matthias Schoenaerts) who introduce the pair to doctor Warnekros (Sebastian Koch).

The Danish Girl is directed by the Oscar winning director, Tom Hooper, who also directed The King’s Speech although not on a par on with that film. Whilst there are scenes shown in the hospital where doctor’s want to commit Einar to the asylum as insane together with the scenes post operation of Lili contorted with pain in bed, it all is feels very sanitized. Why is this? Eddie Redmayne is the answer. He pouts, flutters eyelids and perfectly applies lipstick and mascara but the emotions are lacking. It is Alicia Vikander who saves this movie. She is the emotional force and shows she her acting range after a stellar year in Ex-Machina and Testament of Youth. The heartbreaking scene when Gerda and Einar are in the midst of having sex and she discovers the third person in her marriage Lili is in bed with them as well. She is worthy of the Golden Globe nomination she has received. However, when I say save the movie, Alicia Vikander is a joy to watch but the film doesn’t captivate and the ending is just so ridiculous I instantly forgot it until I looked back at my notes.

The cinematography and soundtrack are both a feast for the eyes and ears. However, I would describe as all fur and flimsy knickers – both actors needed to fully embody their roles and only Alicia Vikander does. I was left thinking does Eddie Redmayne just enjoy the dressing up part and who can blame him really as some of Lili’s costumes are so sublime!

The Danish Girl is released in cinemas across the UK on 1 January 2016.

“Too much intimacy, love overload!” – Trainwreck

Amy is a Trainwreck.

Amy (Amy Schumer) shrieks as she is being group-hugged by her sister Kim (Brie Larson) and family. When she was nine years old, Amy’s dad Gordon (Colin Quinn) gave his daughters a message in the midst of divorcing their mother: “Avoiding intimacy and monogamy is the way to survive.”

Amy took the message seriously, despite him being an offensive racist, homophobic misogynist, yet funny, despite all that.  Trainwreck takes us through Amy’s failed very short term relationships, apparently semi-autobiographical.  Full of good dialogue, and laugh-out-loud funny, the film has enough depth to take Amy’s self-realisation, endearingly assisted by Aaron (Bill Hader) seriously.  Trainwreck is Schumer’s first film screenplay where she also holds the title role, and is one of the best romantic comedies in years and has good odds at the Golden Globes.  Yes, the trainwreck is Amy, something she does face up to.

Eventually.

In his recently released book of conversations with comedians ‘Sick in the Head’, Judd Apatow includes an interview with Schumer: “…I was blown away by how funny and intimate and fresh she was.  You could sense that she had stories to tell and was a lot more than just a comedian.”  Apatow, also instrumental in bringing Lena Dunham to the public, in his role as executive producer of Girls, champions young comedians, from his first TV series Freaks and Geeks to Knocked Up, Bridesmaids and This is 40.  His casts are always entertaining and well-selected, featuring people he has wanted to work with and comedians he has admired.

Criticised for being a touch too long at two hours, Apatow seems to be going for every laugh he can get and I loved it all.  A scene with cameos by LeBron James, Chris Evert (Lloyd) and Matthew Broderick although slightly where-did-this-come-from awkward, steers the focus away from the stereotypical nutty female character, to a balance where the male protagonist can’t seem to work out relationships either.

Amy Schumer answering the question on why her humour connects with people, really sums up the film in her response: “Just the feeling of losing all your confidence and feeling like you’re worthless because of how other people are treating you.  And then having to realise that the real issue is actually how you’re treating yourself.  I think that’s something most people have experienced, feeling like they don’t deserve love.”

Highlights were Tilda Swinton as Dianna, Amy’s editor at the lad-mag S’NUFF; Basketball star LeBron James playing himself, a well-buffed friend looking out for Aaron, the easygoing sports doctor superstar who befriends Amy; and the honest eulogy Amy presents. The mixture of truth and humour brought to you by Schumer and Apatow.  A fantastic combination.

Guild, grief and shame battle passion, love and lust as tarnished lovers Holly (Roxy Bugler) and Matthew (Kemal Yildrim) build a love/hate triangle that culminates in an ongoing battle that destroys both of them.

Completely psychological and often pornographic, Malady is an artistic portrayal of the growth and destruction of a loving relationship built out of grief and need. Director Jack James uses powerful and off-colour cinematography to tell his story; clearly a son of slow cinema and reminiscent of Tsai Ming-Liang, (though nowhere near as daringly boring) James utilises longing glances and focused eyes instead of dialogue for most of this feature. Dialogue is in fact very much in the minority and probably takes us less of Malady’s running time than does gratuitous sex. Whilst I’m not against sex scenes in cinema, even ones as graphic as Malady, they work best when they explore a character’s passion and lust, but when they’re so constant and visual they become tiring and wasteful. I understand what James was trying to portray in the sense that it was lust that held them together, but it felt rather like an artist who’s over-played his hand and was now just rubbing his perceived ‘boldness’ in the face of the audience.

Nonetheless, Malady remains one of the most poignant and ‘real’ performances I’ve seen for a long time. The relationship built between Holly and Matthew is not picturesque, it’s not Hollywood, but it is truly believable. These are broken people, who are searching for something, anything that might bring them happiness, but instead they’re lead to grief once more and the gritty, unfocused cinematography used by James captures this perfectly.

If you like artistic cinema then both Malady and Jack James are both worth checking out. But if you prefer to be excited and hooked, or…dialogue, then Malady is not for you. You’ll never forget you’ve watched it, but you won’t likely ever watch it again.