By Louise McLeod Tabouis.

Director Jia Zhang-ke’s eighth feature film, selected in competition for the Palme d’Or at the 2015 Cannes Film Festival, begins with a brilliant blast from the Pet Shop Boys 90’s anthem ‘Go West’. A group of friends, led by Shen Tao (Zhao Tao) dance and celebrate the new year and beginning of 2000. What appears to be a story of friendship in three chapters, spanning 25 years and based in a coal-mining town in provincial northern China – is not all it seems.

Glowing and constantly joyful Tao, surprisingly attracted by the wealth, security and possibilities offered by Zhang Jinsheng (Zhang Yi), an aggressive and conceited young entrepreneur, is forced to discard her good and loyal boyfriend Jianjun (Liang Jingdong), a kind and unpretentious miner, with few prospects. A series of unsubtle metaphors later – a crashed and burning plane, loss of mother-tongue language, exploding dynamite – and Tao rapidly loses that endearing shininess.

The relationship between Tao and her son provides the richness and heart of this film, as well as some of the best dialogue. The reconnection and brevity mark these scenes of attachment and loss as Tao grows closer to her estranged 7-year-old son before farewelling him. The gift of a set of house keys as he leaves her, hang around his neck, providing him with a way back to the memory of a mother whose name he can’t, or pretends not to remember; a beautiful and incredibly sad moment.

“The hardest thing about love is caring”, stated by one character, aptly sums up this thought-provoking story. One of disconnection and disappointment, symbolising the loss of family connection and the rise of capitalism in China, and featuring the magnificent Zhao Tao.

Following the story of Frans Afman; Hollywood Banker tells the story of how a middling Dutch bank became the most important financiers of independent cinema propelled by the genius of one man whose hobby became his career.

From start to finish this is a personal tale. Directed by Rozyman Afman, daughter of the films subject, Hollywood Banker tracks her fathers career in Hollywood  finance from beginning to end. With stunning pace, creative choice of locations, a measured mixture of interviews, exerts,and movie footage Hollywood Banker hold your interest from start to finish. Whilst some may read the blurb and wonder how on earth a film about a financier, whose life couldn’t be further from The Wolf on Wall Street, could be at all interesting (myself included), five minutes of this film will change your mind. Where many documentaries reach a plateau about half way through and struggle to recreate their early intensity until the very end, Hollywood Banker holds its pace throughout. Not only is this a great documentary, but it has a riveting subject matter and left me genuinely curious to learn more.

This is an aspect of Hollywood that people rarely see, and is a story of a time passed, when independent  cinema was at its strength and could truly compete with big budget blockbusters. Hollywood Banker is a brilliant documentary and is a must watch for film buffs everywhere. What begins as a personal journey for the director becomes a brilliantly interesting subject and I would thoroughly recommend this documentary to anyone.

Sicario, Denis Villeneuve’s fantastic film deals with drug smuggling cartel rings operating in the US.

It is a formidable piece of work, which kept me on the edge of my seat.  The drug smuggling cartel story has become somewhat of a cliché but Villeneuve’s direction and fantastic central performances by Blunt, Brolin and del Toro elevate the go to story of an FBI agent (Blunt) dragged into Brolin’s murky and morally questionable government task force run into something very special indeed.

Villeneuve uses his greatest assets to his advantage:  Sheridan’s well-written script allows the characters outer skins to peel away as the drama of the plot unfolds, thickens and darkens.  This lets the actors to perform without hamming it up or overplaying the drama of the scene.  The camera frequently rests on his actors and Villeneuve avoids cutting the performances up.  He stands back and lets Blunt guide us through the world in a confident manner, without her performance the film would fall apart.  Brolin is at home as the cocksure team leader, who is introduced to the audience obnoxiously wearing flip-flops in a meeting.  Del Toro’s quiet performance remains very ambiguous throughout the film; it is only at the end that we are able to get a full grasp of his character.

An early set piece, a drive in to Juarez, Mexico, is elaborately staged; absolutely every possible ounce of tension is wrung from glances between characters and helicopter shots of the convoy, so much so that it becomes unbearable when the action grinds to a halt in a traffic jam.  Jóhann Jóhannsson’s ominous and looming score augments the tension in the film, which is reminiscent of the score in Gaspar Noé’s Irreversible, it’s bubbling and rumbling synths mesh with brass instruments and echoing percussion in a way that sends shivers down spines and puts butterflies in stomachs.  Roger Deakins’ sublime photography captures all of the grit and dirt in the sand.  In one scene, he breathtakingly manages to evoke the natural drama of a sunset and keep the action silhouetted in the foreground.

Sicario is a film that will have a very long shelf life.

Like in his other films, Villeneuve’s superlative command of the frame and characters hooked me very early on and stayed with me long after the credits had rolled.  It cannot recommend it more highly.  I am eagerly awaiting his Blade Runner sequel; I cannot wait to see how his unique eye will capture a steam punk sci-fi setting.

Directed by Denis Villeneuve, written by Taylor Sheridan, 121mins

By Louise McLeod Tabouis.

On a cold Irish farm, Aaron (Barry Keoghan) wants Mary (Emer McCourt) his mother, to fight for her life, or at least to take her medicine.

Surrounded by his indifferent and critical visiting uncles and aunt, Aaron suddenly has his privacy and intimacy with his sick mother invaded. The only one providing him with comfort and attention is his mum.
Aaron listens to the foul-mouthed, banal talk lulling his mother, who appears well, to her death.
“Grow up”, they yell at him, “you wee shit!”, as the adults comfort each other and treat him with disdain.

Writer & director Phil Sheerin, has created a powerful, sad, important film. When most of the discussion about assisted-suicide centres around older people, this is a rare child’s perspective, one who is not ready nor prepared to say goodbye, yet appears to be the most emotionally competent person in the room.