February 22, 2017

Who makes the Nazis?


Imperium (Daniel Ragussis, 2016). The renaissance of Daniel Radcliffe (Swiss Army Man, Kill Your Darlings) seemed more myth than reality until his surprisingly strong showing in this unexpectedly topical undercover Nazi thriller. Radcliffe is a dweebish FBI agent turned shaven-headed Aryan warrior (he looks like a pocket-edition Henry Rollins) infiltrating neo-Nazi gangs who have – you will never believe this – been radicalised by a smarmy, conspiracy theory-peddling radio host.     

February 20, 2017

Faces in the water



Stalker (Andrei Tarkovsky, 1979) and Silence (Martin Scorsese, 2016). Like both Stalker and Andrei Rublev, Silence could be understood as a long and introverted meditation on the gap between religious aspirations and ideals and the compromises made by those who must live in the world. It is profound enough to wear the comparison and there is a rare cautiousness, or maybe piousness or seriousness, in the way that Scorsese directs. It may be true that Andrew Garfield lacks the gravity or sorrow that Liam Neeson and even Adam Driver carry with them, or the thin-skinned anguish of Willem Dafoe in the more turbulent and vivid Last Temptation of Christ, but there are many consolations. A remarkable Japanese supporting cast is just one of them. A thoughtful screenplay (by Jay Cocks and Scorsese) is another. Like Tarkovsky (or recent Malick), this is religious art, and you have to meet it at least halfway. 

February 11, 2017

Fish tank, hall of mirrors


The Lady from Shanghai (Orson Welles, 1947). Where is that line between the too-much-ness of Welles as actor and the hamminess? To put it another way: between the actor caring too much and not caring enough? You can say (David Thomson does) that Welles put a lifetime of acting into Citizen Kane and everything after was a variation on parts of Kane’s corruption. And everything is informed for us now by biography. The unconvincing figure Welles plays here, the Irishman O’Hara, is smart but clueless, an insightful writer who is easily duped. Welles’ expressionist flourishes are daringly at work in the closing amusement park Caligari scene, despite studio edits, but I’m as taken with the hallucinatory aquarium scene. No one has ever made sense of the story.