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THE CALL OF THE WILD (2020) FILM REVIEW

2/23/2020

****

PG, 99 Mins

Stunning motion capture work lends this shaggy dog story a big, BIG heart.

One thing you can guarantee from your dog is unconditional love. Something a human can never offer no matter how hard they try. It's this very unconditional love that both this movie and its canine star offers Harrison Ford and its audiences. And, believe me, us audiences will truly want to love it unconditionally back.

'The Call of the Wild' (2020) is the latest in a long line of adaptations of Jack London's 1903 short novel of the same name about a stolen St. Bernard travelling across the Canadian wilderness with only a man (Harrison Ford) and his gun for company. It's a literary classic that has seen 'Little Women' numbers of umpteen big screen renditions starting with a silent movie in 1923. The first "talkie" version would follow with Clarke Gable in 1935 although arguably the best beloved one was the 1972 Charlton Heston-starrer - not the most faithful, but certainly most mainstream. A 1978 Snoopy TV special was to come along with a 1981 anime film with Bryan Cranston pre-'Breaking Bad'. All this before the purist take - 'The Call of the Wild: Dog of the Yukon' (1997) - starring Rutger Hauer and three dog actors.

This 7th re-imagining - a strapping, populist romp - doesn't feature four-legged actors although Terry Notary's extraordinary performance as the big, soppy St. Bernard Buck is so photorealist it might make you wonder whether he were a dog in previous realms! He breathes life into the barking creature through mesmerising motion capture technology. Not simply CGI gimmickery, this wondrous art allows actors to embody the movements and mannerisms of real animals. Anything in excess is unhealthy as 'Cats' (2019) purrrrrvertly proved. However - in moderation - performance capture can seamlessly bridge the divide between the real and the unreal while standard CGI only sits on the latter side of this division.

'The Call of the Wild' builds the bridge beautifully. Like Andy Serkis inhabited the chest-beating physicality of Apes in the recent 'Planet of the Apes' (2011-2017) movies and 'King Kong' (2005), Notary nails our shaggy canine hero's woofings and sloppy tongue to a tee. What's particularly impressive is that he manages to give a CGI character "weight" - a trait too many "animations" lack. It was certainly missing from last year's lacklustre remake of 'The Lion King' (2019) which was such a weightless affair.

In this movie, you'll have to slap yourself with a garden hoe to wake up to the fact that you're watching a computer-generated beast. Never has a dog seemed so "human". Despite essentially wearing animal "make-up", Notary conveys a complex range of emotions - especially pathos and poignancy - as naturally as Harrison Ford. In fact, big Buck actually out-acts Mr. Ford off screen.

There's real charm in seeing man and dog interact and Notary (aka Buck) and Ford have the most lovely chemistry. The simple sight of the two curled up around the fireplace is enough to make even the hardest heart melt although arguably these are exactly the heart-strings the film is deliberately tickling. It's a testament then that I never found the film's sentiments manipulative in the slightest. This may come down to my love of sticky sentimentality and the fact that dogs really do evoke the fuzziest emotions in people, but 'The Call of the Wild' earns the right to be sweet and soft in its "man's best friend" scenes thanks to the toughness of its earlier segments.

A palpable sense of danger coats shots of wincing animal cruelty when Buck is initially kidnapped and subjected to club and whip. As someone with zero tolerance for violence against animals, I kept having to remind myself that no creatures were harmed during the production. It didn't make these sequences any easier to watch and I continued to squirm during a tooth n' claw brawl between two dogs jostling for heirarchical control of their pack. These are all very real issues facing dogs and many other animals today. They lend 'The Call of the Wild' true-life grit to compliment the gooeyness of the central friendship.

Amid the darkness comes mouth-watering imagery from Janusz Kaminski - Steven Spielberg's legendary cinematographer. The movie is almost Malickian in its aesthetic; bursting with a passion for nature in all its audacity. Snowy, sinewy North American landscapes are sprawling, sweeping and seemingly endless with real locations definitely tampered with via computer. I'm not generally a massive fan of computer-generated imagery, but ironically Director Chris Sanders uses such to the film's advantage. He sprinkles just the right amount of laptop glitz on top of the tundras to make them even more majestic for the multiplex.

Safe to say, I loved this movie. I love it as unconditionally as Buck loves his owner and his viewers. Bring tissues because there will not be a dry eye in the room, but this suceeds as both a total heartwarmer and as a rip-roaring adventure for all the family. The OSCARS made a bold and brilliant choice awarding 'Parasite' (2020) the Best Picture prize. Now their next hurdle to overcome needs to be recognizing motion capture acting. Terry Notary's portrayal of a dog is as good as if not better than most people playing mankind.

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MR. JONES (2020) FILM REVIEW

2/16/2020

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****

15, 118 Mins

There's a whiff of Bond about this minimalist Cold War thriller.

With its snowy Soviet setting, political espionage and popcorny lack of pretensions, 'Mr. Jones' (2020) often felt like a chilly ode to early Connery era Bonds. Specifically to 'From Russia With Love' (1963). In fact, there's an entire segment on a train thundering through the Siberian wilderness where I was literally on the edge-of my-seat for Red Grant from that movie to barge in and begin a punch-up in the cabins.

Naturally this doesn't happen as 'Mr. Jones' is, on paper, a true-life biopic about a Welsh journalist named Gareth Jones (James Norton) who uncovered the truth behind the man-made famine that killed millions in Ukraine. However it does share the paranoia and eavesdropping of a populist Cold War potboiler which - throughout the early 60s - the James Bond films essentially were before glamour, girls and gadgets took its place. This is absolutely heightened by the presence of James Norton who is currently at odds of 7-4 to replace Daniel Craig as everyone's favourite "relic of the Cold War" superspy with recent rumours indicating he may have been already cast.

Needless to say, he's the hot favourite for the next James Bond and it's worth noting that - whenever talk of a new 007 crops up - one role tends to swing audiences in the said actor's direction. For Daniel Craig, it was always his muscular performance in Matthew Vaughn's 'Layer Cake' (2004) that won him the part. Even many of the other names floating around in relation to the role have had a major breakthrough which showcases their Bondian potential. Think Richard Madden in 'Bodyguard' (2018), Henry Cavill with 'Mission Impossible: Fallout' (2018) and Tom Hiddleston and 'The Night Manager' (2016).

If Norton is cast, 'Mr. Jones' will undoubtedly give viewers a sense of what we can expect from him. He certainly has the good looks, the square jaw and, boy, does he look dapper in a suit. What impressed me most about his performance here, though, is its understatement. Norton's usually a big n' broad actor who acts much more with his ripped chest and bulging biceps than his pretty face. His hunky image isn't immediately what springs to mind when you think of a bookish journalist, but he pulls off the part of Gareth Jones through the most minimalist movements.

For one thing, the actor's shiny, symmetrical face is hidden behind spectacles for the entirety of the running time and he perfects the itchings of a stutter - essentially a big man acting little. The real strength of the portrayal is that Norton manages to convey an abundance of anxiety and anger through merely the flicker of an eyelid or the quiver of a top lip. It's an impressively subdued turn a trillion kilometres away from the brawny nastiness of Tommy Lee-Royce in 'Happy Valley' (2014-).

And yet - despite the "littleness" of his acting - Norton remains an utterly engrossing presence who absolutely grips you by the lapel. It's partly down to him that the movie is as watchable as it is, but special thanks must also go to Director Agnieszka Holland. A woman with a history of making the little large.

Holland, of course, has her roots in directing Television including several episodes of 'The Wire' (2002-2008) such as 'Moral Midgetry' which routinely ranks as one of the greatest TV hours of all time. That series similarly relied on the most minimal details whether wire-tapping phone booths or characters exchanging ghetto small-talk while filmed on boxed 4:3. And yet the scene that ends the 'Moral Midgetry' episode with Stringer and Avon's hot-blooded confrontation is as epic and cinematic as anything from Steven Spielberg and Stanley Kubrick. All this despite the fact it rests entirely on dialogue and features no special-effects whatsoever.

Director Holland continues to flex her muscle for "making the little large" in 'Mr. Jones'. Like its bespectacled, mild-mannered protagonist, it's a very "little" movie that hinges on the tiniest touches to coax up the realism. For example, an opening close-up shot of pigs in a pen-house is rather symbollic of the film's dank n' dirty approach to journalistic digging. 'Mr. Jones' is unafraid of portraying journalism as not always the most enjoyable job in the world. It's not all fun and games and paparazzi, rather boring and procedural with a propensity for beige walls and brown curtains.

The film depicts all this without ever being boring or procedural itself. Its triumph is the balance between the grimly realist and the bracingly filmic that 'Mr. Jones' strikes with aplomb. When reviewing 'Official Secrets' (2019) and 'The Report' (2019), I noted they were almost so realistic and minute in their detail that this detracted from their quality as a notable cinematic experience. This is every bit as close-to-life, but feels absolutely like a feature-length "movie" as opposed to a documentary or TV dramatisation.

There's film-making flourish here to nicely compliment the real-world grit. Take several shots of the titular Mr. Jones scribing away at a type-writer. Something that, on the surface, doesn't scream "great cinema", but Holland makes it silver screen-worthy by zooming in on the instrument as it ticks away. Close-up shots of seemingly mundane objects seem to be a bit of trait in Holland's canvas. In one scene, characters are speaking through a microphone attached to a sound system. The camera follows the wires deep into the system reminding me of the explosive starter of Andrew Niccol's 'Lord of War' (2005) which traced the origins of a bullet from production line to blasting out of a rifle.

Despite all its paperwork, this is a highly accessible beast that's as visually appealing as it is a technically triumphiant. A movie which makes the smallest of sizes in gestures or items sweeping and sprawling. I'd love to see James Norton as James Bond and this is a great audition for him.

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EMMA (2020) FILM REVIEW

2/15/2020

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****

U, 125 Mins

Lewis Carrol's influence shows in this proudly cinematic Austen adaptation.

What's your favourite Austen adaptation? Everyone has one. Entire acting careers were launched because of them. The most universally beloved one is unquestionably Andrew Davies's 1995 TV version of 'Pride and Prejudice' which made a star of Colin Firth's wet torso. Of course, Firth would go on to reprise his Darcy role to 21st century effect in 'Bridget Jones' Diary' (2001) which is a loose re-imagining of the classic story.

The 2005 film adaptation of 'Pride and Prejudice' wouldn't have happened without its decade earlier predecessor and that too bolstered Keira Knightley to superstardom. Then turn your mind to Ang Lee's 'Sense and Sensibility' (1995) which not only gave birth to Hugh Grant's bumblings, but was the core reason Kate Winslet ended up in 'Titanic' (1997).

My personal favourite Austen "adaptation" is not the most faithful of sorts, but certainly the most whip-smart. 'Clueless' (1995) is a delightful spin on 'Emma' - one of the writer's most comedic novels - that utterly subverts the stiff sedateness we usually and wrongly associate with Austen. That film is very much at the back of Director Autumn De Wilde's mind to beat for this whimsical new 'Emma' (2020) which - although not quite up to the wit and sass of the earlier film - is a hilarious, playfully modern and contemporary costume drama.

Like 'Clueless' made Alicia Silverstone a household name, this 'Emma' is bound to boost Anya Taylor-Joy to A-list status. She's a terrific actress up there with Maisie Williams and Florence Pugh in terms of early twentysomething talent and was so brilliant in 'The Witch' (2015). It's definitely her year as she's due shortly to star in one of the summer's biggest blockbusters 'The New Mutants' (2020) and in Edgar Wright's 'Last Night in Soho' (2020).

In the meantime, Taylor-Joy makes an outstanding case for being the definitive Emma Woodhouse. She has the most asymmetrical facial symmetry which is essential for balancing comedic timing with eye-watering pathos - two traits that are not mutually, well, symmentrical. Taylor-Joy measures both superbly; her sparrow-like face looking every bit as uniquely beautiful whether scrunching up with laughter or welling with tears.

Ably backing her is a fantastical supporting cast - a cluedo of who's who on British TV and Film. Particular highlights include Bill Nighy imbueing the fatherly Mr. Woodhouse with his penchant for looking unimpressed. Miranda Hart has a total hoot as Miss Bates. Johnny Flynn is handsome and suave as George Knightley while Rupert Graves chomps up the green grass of the landscapes in role of Mr. Weston.

Not a single individual is miscast. In fact, there's such a titanic talentfest going on in the acting stakes that the movie's film-making finesse almost blows over your head. Like Armando Iannucci did for Dickens in 'The Personal History of David Copperfield' (2020), the highest merit that can be levelled towards Autumn De Wilde is that she makes Austen "cinematic".

One too many people mistake the words "stiff", "stately" and "staid" in relation to Austen due to the snooty order that naturally comes with the period genre. None of those adjectives can be applied to 'Emma' which scoffs in the the prim, proper face of general generic fare.

For one thing, it has clipped, cantankerous dialogue clogged to the brim with the most absurdly funny one-liners such as "you should not beg badgers" and "he's a trifling, silly fop!" just to name a few. I was really reminded of Whit Stillman's 'Love & Friendship' (2016) - another Austen film which sprinkled an approximately modernist zest on period proceedings - or, more recently, 'The Favourite' (2019).

This is a far more accessible beast than Yorgos Lanthimos's scabrous satire on aristocracy with considerably less sex and swearing that would otherwise dent its family-friendly U rating. However it does share the movie's off-centre, dream-like visual sensibility and stripped down costume conventions.

A common trait amongst movies of this kind is that they tend to be "cosy" in their production values with sets neatly-aligned so that the cinematography moves steadily in a straight line from A to Z.

'Emma' completely disregards this aesthetic with the camera whizzing and whirring up and down, round and round in a square so as to shine light on every corner of the action. In doing so, this film vacates the box of traditional film-making frames and travels - dare I say - down the rabbit hole of 'Alice in Wonderland' weirdness that owes a greater debt to Lewis Carrol than it does to Jane Austen.

Alexandra Byrne's costume design is definitely Carrol-esque - a bursting array of the lighest hues populated by popping pinks, yellows and greens. No better demonstration of this is a lip-licking scene featuring a tea party with the most fabulous assortment of cakes that just explode off the screen like millenial fire-crackers.

It should be no surprise, to be honest, that the directorial vision is as experimental and new agey as it is coming from Autumn De Wilde who has her background in rock music videos and photography and, boy, does she know how to light a film. The lighting is what substantially drives the movie's visual panache. For all 'Emma's postmodern, indie glam, it always maintains the look of a "movie" in every shape of the word - never like a TV dramatisation or stagey, word-for-word carbon copy of the source material. A feature that demands to be seen on the biggest screen possible.

I still hold 'Clueless' as the guilty pleasure of revisionist re-imaginings and there's nothing here to match the drippy, drooly majesty of Colin Firth emerging from a lake, but this is top calibre Valentine's entertainment. A star is born in Anya Taylor-Joy!

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BIRDS OF PREY (2020) FILM REVIEW

2/8/2020

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****

15, 109 Mins

Funhouse spin-off pumps up the pulp and peels off the pretensions.

It's worth remembering that while literally everybody agreed 'Suicide Squad' (2016) was a joyless slab of old codswallop, it did give birth to Margot Robbie's Harley Quinn. Hers was a grinning, gurning, pixie cut psycho oggled over by a pervy pantheon of male critics for her hiked-up hotpants.

She almost did for Quinn what Heath Ledger did for the Joker; spoilt by the tongue n' kiss sexualisation of Director David Ayer's voyeuristic photography. Now - with a significantly less crass film-maker behind the camera - Robbie gets to squeeze out her gleefully manic zest too often shielded from the public conscience by blonde "Bombshell" typecasting in 'The Wolf of Wall Street' (2014) and 'Once Upon A Time in Hollywood' (2019).

The words 'Birds of Prey' refer to the kick butt, more levelly played, Avengers-esque DC superhero team including Black Canary and Huntress, but the sub-heading 'The Fantabulous Emancipation of One Harley Quinn' is a better fitting description for this raucous, powder-puffed, glucose rush of a movie. And what a "fantabulous emancipation" it is.

Although Mary Elizabeth Winstead and Jumee Smollett-Bell add spark as the mentioned Huntress and Canary, they take a back seat to Robbie's smack-talking Gotham vowells which - having broken up with Jared Leto's purring excuse for a Joker - must exercise her maternal instinct in the movie's most sentimental scenes as she looks after the innocent Cassandra Cain (Ella Jay Basteo). A name that rings bells in the comic-book community as the alter ego for Batgirl. Here, though, she's simply a doe-eyed little girl under threat of being sliced open in pursuit of a valuable diamond she swallowed from from the hands of Ewan McGregor's "absolute narcissist" of a villain Black Mask (Lovely!).

There's no hesitation in saying this is the best film in the DC Extended Universe which initially isn't saying much given 'Batman vs. Superman: Dawn of Justice' (2016), 'Suicide Squad' and 'Justice League' (2017) were three of the worst films ever made. It's the first DC movie to relish its absurdities - a trick Marvel movies, for all their commercial faults, have mastered in the hip hopping other worlds of 'Thor: Ragnarok' (2017) and 'Guardians of the Galaxy' (2014).

After the deathly serious silliness of 'Joker' (2019), 'Birds of Prey' is refreshingly unpretentious and willing to chortle at how bloody barkin' mad it is. You get more laugh-out-loud zingers here than in what passes for most comedies. My favourite Wildean witticism came two thirds in with the delicious dismissal . Made me cackle like Quinn's pet hyena!

The movie's also not choking on PC cheese like 'Wonder Woman' (2017). With its heroines kickin' the crap out of men who would cut their faces, 'Birds of Prey' has a kind of metaphorical women's liberation message, but it's an approximately second or third cousin relationship to the #MeToo Era. There's never any suggestion that the locker room vile acts committed by these ladies against men is anything to idolize.

Coming after the corporate mechanicalness of previous installments, this film needs to be applauded for having a truly distinctive directorial style provided in unique heaps by Director Cathy Yan. As mentioned, it's a "glucose rush of a movie" exploding with confettied hues of greens, rouges and purples and edited as if the film-maker has 1 million grams of Cocaine zip-zapping through her nostrils. It has a hyper-stylized, "WHAM! BAM! SLAM!" approach to violence evocative of Quentin Tarantino, but seamlessly melds martial arts and music in a manner reminsicient of 'Baby Driver's balletic balancing act of action and melodies.

There's a geuine attempt to rejig Todorov's theory of Equilibrium, Disruption of Equilibrium and New Equilibrium to the point that you're always expecting the finale to be a big, broad CGI city destruction. By contrast, the climax is positively downsized taking place in fairground funhouse that resembles a carnivalesque spin on 'Straw Dogs' (1972). The same concept of inhabitants vs. intruders in a house of sorts is here with home-made defences required to protect women against violence from some of the nastiest men ever seen. The very fact you can have these conversations about a DC movie is stagggering.

Committing these horrific, face-peeling pieces of brutality is a terrifically loathsome villain in Ewan McGregor's Black Mask. It's a role which should be boo-hiss pantomime camp, but there's nothing OTT or even psychopathic about his performance. He's simply a horrid, misogynistic piece of work who you'll hate to your guts.

Some people with undoubtedly have a problem with the film's gender politics - every man here is indeed a face-cutting f**ker. Equally they might take against the level of violence inflicted upon and exposed to a young girl. Scenes of Cassandra Cain gagged and tied to a toilet definitely bring back memories of the Daily Mail's campaign to get 'Kick Ass' (2010) banned due to the presence of Hit Girl.

I personally never found either subjects problematic and that's a testament to the movie's pumped-up, pulpy sensibility. Not only is the slash and potty-mouthed profanity played almost entirely for laughs, but this is a very sensationalistic flick taking place in a fantastical bubble with no relation to the real world whatsoever. There's never any suggestion that real men talk or behave like this.

Amid all the ecstatic excess is a completely unsexualised Margot Robbie grinding up the scenery, kicking arse and utterly disappearing into the titular part with unrecognizable vim. It's up there with 'I, Tonya' (2018) as her most "out there" turn to date. The Harley Quinn we need and deserve.

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UNDERWATER (2020) FILM REVIEW

2/7/2020

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***

15, 94 Mins

"Alien: Underwater" has few surprises, but this well-orchestrated B-movie is at its best when free of A-list pretensions.

It's remarkable really how many movies have riffed off 'Alien' (1979) to varying degrees of success since the classic "haunted house in space" horror burst out the multiplex's chest. Whether in 'Outland' (1981) or 'Pitch Black' (2000) or most recently 'Life' (2017), the notion that "in space no one can hear you scream" has truly stood the test of time. What's more interesting, however, is that 'Alien' was originally pitched by Ridley Scott to 20th Century Fox as "Jaws in space". A very apt pitch given the amount of similarities between Scott's film and Steven Spielberg's one.

Both 'Alien' and 'Jaws' (1975) are much more than monster movies. I certainly read their monsters as chilling metaphors for sexually motivated serial killers with 'Alien's Xenomorph a kind of twisted spin on a murderous hitch-hiker preying on those it's hitched a ride with while the shark of 'Jaws' has often been cited as an analogy for sexual desire. Now comes 'Underwater' (2020) which might aswell have been called "Alien: Underwater" and returns 'Alien's roots to the depths of the deep. It's fitting that the formula that began life as "Jaws in space" now has its feet below the sea again.

Needless to say, "Alien: Underwater" is a film of few surprises. What it does it achieves efficiently with a definite popcorn verve and that is being a competent, well-orchestrated B-movie. I'll admit to being a sucker for sea-based movies set above, on or beneath the surface, but William Eubank's film is actually pretty scary even if it relies mostly on jump scares. Watch out for one of the tentacled baby beasties thwacking into a sea-helmet for terror factor! Cattle prod shocks like this, however, are nicely judged and never overplayed. There's a clear if unsubtle attempt at creating a consistent atmosphere of dread. The suitably menacing production design, for example, has some of the cavernous beauty of H.R Giger's work on, yes, the 'ALIEN' movies. It equally imprints gloopy prosthetics onto the squidy, wraith-like creatures with an abundance of practical effects over CGI.

Hard to believe too, but 'Underwater' features a very strong central performance from Kristen Stewart. I've never been a Kristen Stewart fan. Like Shia LaBeouf, there's something very dislikeable about her with Stewart's lips doing most of the acting for her. She thankfully doesn't do any lip-biting here and it's pretty weird that - in the past 12 months - so many actors who I've generally disliked have turned out great acting. Think Shia LaBeouf in 'Honey Boy' (2019) and Adam Sandler in 'Uncut Gems' (2020). Stewart's work in this film is nowhere near in the same league as those aforementioned performances, but she makes a sturdy, women's liberating role model replete with shaved hair that channels Sigourney Weaver's Ellen Ripley.

One thing that the first two 'Alien' movies lacked - as brilliant as they were - was anything approaching a plot in the conventional sense. What there always was was some superbly composed set-pieces that made up for the absence of emotional punch, but no A to B mechanisms - a complete disregard of Todorov's Equilibrium, Disruption of Equilibirium and New Equilibrium. Ironically its when 'Underwater' dives deeper in search of a plot that it falters, fluctuates and risks drowning.

A late scene where Stewart communicates with the creatures telepathically through sub-Malickian voiceovers might float well in higher brow Sci-Fi fare like 'Arrival' (2016), but in a stripped-down, straightforward Friday night flick like this simply reeks of sentimental pretensions. 'Underwater' is rather better when playing to the pulp of its humans vs. monsters premise. When it does so, it's good fun.

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BAFTAS 2020 REVIEW

2/2/2020

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Stylish, but shallow '1917' robbed the technically and politically audacious 'Bait' of a worthy Best British Film.

Just like the Golden Globes, it was a night for the Brits to have pride at the 2020 BAFTAS. Arguably this was unsurprising as these are the 'British Academy Film and Television Awards', but it's a very white and very male Britain it presents. The startling omissions of Cynthia Erivo ('Harriet') and Eddie Murphy ('Dolemite Is My Name') in the acting stakes along with Greta Gerwig ('Little Women') and Shola Amoo ('The Last Tree') for Best Director were backed up by the victory of '1917' (2020) which scooped up a whopping 9 trophies including Best Film and British Film.

It's not only, in my opinion, a grandly overrated movie that's all style and no substance, but needs to be critiqued for its lack of representation of non-white soldiers - its token Sikh being the butt of Laurence Fox's rather misplaced comments. Of the 5 eligible Best Film nominations, only Martin Scorsese's 'The Irishman' (2019) stood out as a potential classic; two of the other slots stolen from the likes of 'The Souvenir' (2019) and 'Dirty God' (2019) by the hollowness of 'Joker' (2019) and 'Once Upon A Time in Hollywood' (2019) although I haven't seen 'Parasite' (2020) yet.

There is some reason to cherish in 'Bait's triumph with Outstanding British Debut going to Mark Jenkin. I only hope this golden statuette gives him the necessary motif to continue making films that redefine the landscape of modern cinema. That's why I was clawing my eyes when Jenkin's modern masterpiece was robbed of Best British Film by '1917'. There really is nothing like 'Bait' playing in cinemas for 100 years whereas Sam Mendes's WW1 epic's one-long-take gimmick is as generic as 'Birdman' (2015).

Speaking of 'Birdman', those in the superhero world will no doubt be rejoicing at Joaquin Phoenix's Best Actor win for his skin-crawling performance as the Travis Bickle-esque 'Joker'. In his highly PC awards speech, the meticulous method actor called on the film industry to dismantle a "system of oppression"; criticizing the lack of diversity in the nominations that we can no longer afford shy an eye away from. It was a deserving award for one of the great screen talents of the 21st century, but I still can't get over the fact that neither Adam Sandler ('Uncut Gems') nor Robert De Niro ('The Irishman') got nods.

As far as Best Actress was concerned, Renee Zellweger was always a shoe-in for her show-stopping inhabitation of Judy Garland in 'Judy'. Not only is it a terrific turn, but it's absolutely the kind of shouty embodiement of nothing less than a Hollywood star that awards fall for year in, year out. Once again, though, it's what wasn't on the list rather than what was there that really stood out. Surely 'Sorry We Missed You's Debbie Honeywood was a better performance than Jessie Buckley in 'Wild Rose' (2019)?

The Supporting Actor stakes were similarly swamped by the lack of presence of Shia LaBeouf ('Honey Boy'), Nicholas Pinnock ('The Last Tree') and Sterling K.Brown ('Waves') amongst countless others. This perfunctory prize innevitably went to Brad Pitt who didn't so much act as he did strip-tease his drooling pectorials in 'Once Upon A Time in Hollywood'.

Laura Dern equally didn't deserve her Best Supporting Actress win as she never rose to challenging gravitas of Adam Driver or Scarlett Johansson in 'Marriage Story' (2019). Her statuette tops off a depressingly all-blonde shortlist also including the aforementionmed Scarlett Johansson ('Jojo Rabbit') and a double helping of Margot Robbie in 'Bombshell' (2020) and, again, (snore...), 'Once Upon A Time in Hollywood'. The prize should've gone to Florence Pugh who - on the basis of her fantastic work in 'Little Women' (2019) - is proving to be the next Kate Winslet.

Meanwhile Sam Mendes was admittedly a worthy winner in terms of film-making finesse in the directorial category. While '1917' failed to grab me on an emotional level, it's pure cinematic construction can't be faultered. Then neither can the "pure cinematic construction" of 'Little Women' which itself, at multiple moments, felt like one long take thanks to the seamlessness of the editing and direction from Greta Gerwig. A slot for the quite brilliant actress-turned-director should've been there in place of Quentin Tarantino's Hollywood foot fetishism.

As for Best Film Not in the English Language, like I said, I still need to see Bong Joon-Ho's 'Parasite' which won the Palme D'Or at the Cannes Film Festival back in May. However I can't help, but die a little (a lot!) inside that there was no space for neither 'Monos' (2019) (my joint-favourite film of 2019 with 'Bait') nor the sprawling 'So Long, My Son' (2019).

The final verdict? Not BAFTA's finest hour. A rather disgraceful lack of representation when it came to women or people of colour seems destined to cloud 2020's ceremony with the hashtag #BAFTASSOWHITE for years to come. A diversity problem that we've come to expect from the Globes and OSCARS, but one which I thought us Brits were above. Now roll on 2021 to see if voters have listened to critics's not unjustified gripes...

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QUEEN AND SLIM (2020) FILM REVIEW

2/2/2020

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****

15, 131 Mins

Daniel Kaluuya and Jodie Turner-Smith sizzle in this unclassifiable tale of lovers on the run.

Mid-way through 'Queen and Slim' (2020) a character refers to the titular love-lorn duo as "a black Bonnie and Clyde". On the surface, that statement tells you exactly where we are, but Melina Metsoukas's film is so much more than that. It's a #BlackLivesMatter comment, a thriller, a comedy and a romance playing out under a pulpy, popcorny pretence with a frighteningly fraught attitude towards men in uniform and anchored by a sizzling couple for the Twitter generation.

We begin in a 'Pulp Fiction'-roasted diner where criminal defence lawyer Queen (Jodie Turner-Smith) is having dinner with her Tinder date Slim (Daniel Kaluuya). From here, it's on and off the road with the couple pulled over by a cop on suspicion of DUI. From chunks of his brutish interactions with Kaluuya's Slim - tapered with ridiculous requests to open up a car bonnet stuffed with spare shoes - it's clear this is a man with an unconditional bias against those who do not share his white skin. Naturally proceedings spirall momentously out of control as the officer pulls a gun on the couple leading to a violent altercation that results in a bullet to his head.

Queen and Slim swiftly go on the run across the plains of the American deep south; growing closer by the day and encountering a varied abundance of unbiased faces. Whether it be Benito Martinez's kindly Sheriff, a "power to the people" preaching father and son or Queen's uncle who comes out with the infamous "well if it isn't a black 'Bonnie and Clyde'" zinger, Queen and Slim's road movie antics become a slogan for black lives mattering against systemic oppression.

What I love most about this movie is quite how unclassifiable it is on a genre level. The build-up to the "cop killing" scene - featuring an explosion of police brutality and institutional racism - is genuine edge-of the-seat stuff; pistol-blasting in its gruelling procedural detail while rageful and incendiary in its realisation of the retrograde standpoints of a select few men with a badge. Made me want to throw my hands up in horror!

And yet 'Queen and Slim' isn't scared of disguising its potent and worthy racial commentary behind an outrageous veneer of blackly comic populism. "Is that a glock?" a googly-eyed gas station attendant mumbles in reference to the stolen cop handgun Slim has strapped to his belt. "I'll give you your gas for free if you let me hold it" he continues. What follows is unbearably tense as the young man aims his toy-like pistol towards our central antihero; pulsing with school shooter vibes and leaving viewers clawing at their cuticles over whether or not this uncomfortably relaxed worker recognizes the individual who just gunned down a copper. Thank goodness for the Tarantino-esque quippery of the aforementioned dialogue dolloping a satirical interjection of light and shade to this renegade encounter.

I laughed more here than in the majority of comedies, but 'Queen and Slim's most humane strokes are its romantic chutzpah. Building on the OSCAR-nominated appeal of 'Get Out' (2017), Daniel Kaluuya continues to flutter his big, broad eyelids with double-sworded gusto; smoothing out his often comedic aysemmetricality with streaks of sweat-dripping anger. He's lovingly complimented by newcomer Jodie Turner-Smith who provides the pathos to his tragicomic fury with breathtaking chemistry that makes Andrew Garfield and Emma Stone's heart-melting interactions seem the stuff of bubbly pups.

It's no perfect film. I certainly could've done with less sentimentality in the final minutes where the political picking aparts cloud over the more crowdpleasing aspects of the electric romance. However - for 75% of its running time - 'Queen and Slim' needs to be applauded for its lack of afraidness when it comes to wrong-footing audiences as it goes on a runner. If it weren't for the on-the-nose conclusion, this would be dead-cert 5 star fare. An impassioned and edgy debut for Melina Metsoukas.

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THE RHYTHM SECTION (2020) FILM REVIEW

2/2/2020

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***

15, 109 Mins

Blake Lively makes a uniquely unsexy audition for Bond.

When was the last time you saw a female-led action movie that didn't feature its leading lady in lycra, hotpants or a bikini? These movies often spoil their empowering measure of women's badassery with leering shots of breasts and buttocks as they kick arsenal. If you cast your mind to any of the big female action icons at the moment whether they be Scarlett Johansson's Black Widow, Gal Gadot's Wonder Woman or Margot Robbie's Harley Quinn in the upcoming 'Birds of Prey' (2020), they've all have been sexualised in one way or another.

'The Rhythm Section' (2020) thus stands out as a uniquely unsexy actioner. With the exception of one scene in which she poses as a prostitute, an unrecognizable Blake Lively - one of the world's most diserable women - spends the majority of this muscular espionage thriller make-up free, matted haired and battered and bruised. She stars as Stephanie Patrick - a woman who reinvents herself as an assasin on trail of the terrorists who killed her family in a plane crash. She's self-destructive, smack-smoking and three-dimensionally flawed with a lack of love and sex life that would make 'The Killing's DCI Sarah Lund proud.

This film's Bechdel test-beating panache is surprising coming from producers Michael G. Wilson and Barbara Broccoli whose James Bond series's chauvinistic "wooings" hardly make it the most PC franchise. And yet - as 007 has caught up with the times in recent years - the intention with 'The Rhythm Section' is clear.

This is a brutal reconstruction of the more level playing field that came with early Craig Era Bonds. Something which certainly shows in the hypothermic, Scottish Highland-set training scenes - with Jude Law's beleagured MI6 Agent - that deliberately nods to 'Skyfall's 'Straw Dogs'-style third act. Yet it's in the breakneck fight scenes where 007's touch is strongest with a shaky cam-ridden physical punch to them that reminds audiences of 'Casino Royale's debt to Paul Greengrass's 'Jason Bourne' films.

Lively commits herself to the action with femur-cracking gusto. She fights badly like a real person expressing bare-knuckle pain and heft - not an invincible superhero like Pierce Brosnan which always made him the most ridiculous of 007 incarnations. You'll feel yourself wanting to shout "C'OR BLIMEY! SHE'S GETTING HURT!" as the blows come smacking into her ribs.

Lively's assured performance and gritty direction from former cinematographer Reed Morano smooth over the 'Taken'-style trashiness of the revenge-fuelled plot. As a result, I'm dying to see a female James Bond with Lively in the lead and Morano in the director's chair. It's apparent from this movie that Wilson and Broccoli are ready to move forward, not backward. Even if this doesn't turn out to be the lead actress's audition for Jane Bond, a new franchise is on the cards for this vengeful antiheroine. This is a solid, efficient B-Movie.

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THE CALL OF THE WILD (2020) FILM REVIEW

****

PG, 99 Mins

MR. JONES (2020) FILM REVIEW

****

15, 118 Mins

EMMA (2020) FILM REVIEW

****

U, 125 Mins

BIRDS OF PREY (2020) FILM REVIEW

****

15, 109 Mins

UNDERWATER (2020) FILM REVIEW

***

15, 94 Mins

BAFTAS 2020 REVIEW

QUEEN AND SLIM (2020) FILM REVIEW

****

15, 131 Mins

THE RHYTHM SECTION (2020) FILM REVIEW

***

15, 109 Mins

Meet Roshan Chandy

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Rating System

*** 2 Thumbs Up
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Archives

FILM OF THE WEEK

Saint Maud
(15, 84 Mins)

DVD OF THE WEEK

Back to the Future: The Ultimate Trilogy
(PG, 341 Mins)

TV MOVIE OF THE WEEK

Get Out (2017)
(15, 102 Mins)
Sun 11th Oct., 10.55pm, Channel 4

****

PG, 99 Mins

****

15, 118 Mins

****

U, 125 Mins

****

15, 109 Mins

***

15, 94 Mins

****

15, 131 Mins

***

15, 109 Mins

Meet Roshan Chandy

Follow Me on Twitter​

Rating System

***** 2 Thumbs Up**** Thumb Up*** Waving Thumbs** Thumb Down* 2 Thumbs Down​

Archives

FILM OF THE WEEK​

Saint Maud​(15, 84 Mins)

DVD OF THE WEEK​

Back to the Future: The Ultimate Trilogy (PG, 341 Mins)

TV MOVIE OF THE WEEK​

Get Out (2017)(15, 102 Mins)Sun 11th Oct., 10.55pm, Channel 4

Follow Me on Twitter

*** 2 Thumbs Up
Thumb Up
* Waving Thumbs
** Thumb Down
* 2 Thumbs Down

FILM OF THE WEEK

Saint Maud
(15, 84 Mins)

DVD OF THE WEEK

Back to the Future: The Ultimate Trilogy
(PG, 341 Mins)

TV MOVIE OF THE WEEK

Get Out (2017)
(15, 102 Mins)
Sun 11th Oct., 10.55pm, Channel 4