March 21, 2017

White trash precariat


American Honey (Andrea Arnold, 2016). How many films have been this concerned with money? Counting it, coveting it, stashing it, earning it, conning people out of it. Andrea Arnolds first non-British film is a road movie through the US midwest  Oklahoma, Missouri, Iowa, South Dakota  that embeds viewers within a group of drifting, nihilistic teens who form a kind of white trash precariat (this was conceived several years ago and it debuted at Cannes last May, but it feels very much like a Trump-era story). As in Arnolds Fish Tank, there is a young woman at the centre (Sasha Lane, above) who is trying to negotiate the rules of the world and identify its predators. Arnolds view is raw, sympathetic, intuitive and not immune to the weird beauty of the entirely ordinary even when her Academy ratio close-ups risk giving viewers claustrophobia. 

March 20, 2017

Ten years earlier

The Serpent’s Egg (Ingmar Bergman, 1977). As though Cabaret could be repackaged as a dark and murky nightmare (apartments, corridors, basements, crowded clubs, wet night-time streets) in which Nazi crimes were somehow rehearsed 10 years ahead of time. David Carradine was no Max von Sydow but he was arguably more of a Max von Sydow than David Bowie was in the thematically similar but much sloppier Just a Gigolo a year later. 

March 19, 2017

On the river

Sully (Clint Eastwood, 2016). A man lands a plane on a river in New York and everyone lives, so why does he feel like this? 

March 18, 2017

Cities at night


Heat (Michael Mann, 1995). I hadn’t seen this for 20 years, I think, and I remembered the bank shoot-out most clearly – sudden guerrilla warfare choreographed in downtown Los Angeles – but I had not recalled its feeling, both grandiose and sad, beautiful and strange. And there is Mann’s romantic admiration for these quiet men – cops, criminals, what’s the difference? – who run on a mix of intuition and discipline, outsiders looking in. 

March 11, 2017

Trains and bad weather

Three Monkeys (Nuri Bilge Ceylan, 2008). A dark and fairly pitiless noir with hauntings at its centre. The sex and death that drives these plots goes unseen, leaving just the clouds of suspicion and guilt, the sound of trains and bad weather.

March 9, 2017

Last time I walked down your street


Manchester by the Sea (Kenneth Lonergan, 2016). This has an unexpected shape that feels like shapelessness (as we saw in the equally moving and impressive Margaret, Lonergan likes to take his time with scenes that might have seemed extraneous to others), and it’s observational rather than highly personal, but it is unusually sensitive to the burdens of guilt and grief and the ways that we try and sometimes fail to move on. There are entire worlds and stories beyond what we see here: the way Lee (Casey Affleck) wraps up the three photos when he moves, or the way the young Patrick glances at his passed-out mother, or the story of the man who lost his dad in 1959 and remembers every detail, or many other small and important moments. If you leave wanting more from Joe and Randi, maybe that is the point as well. 

March 5, 2017

Almost pleasantly underpowered

CafĂ© Society (Woody Allen, 2016). The annual Woody Allen film is nearly beyond criticism by now. This time: period nostalgia (Hollywood, gangsters) and an almost pleasantly underpowered love triangle in which passion, anguish or despair seem to be entirely absent. Call it a sketch of an idea of an experiment about a story about life, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing. But in a year, will you even remember which one this was?

March 4, 2017

The best Christopher Lee performance


The Devil Rides Out (Terence Fisher, 1967). The seriousness of the metaphysical struggle. He’s almost Max von Sydow.  

March 1, 2017

Old news

Snowden (Oliver Stone, 2016). The disillusioned patriot shaped the trajectory of Stone’s Vietnam films – Platoon, Born on the Fourth of July, Heaven and Earth (in Wall Street, the disillusioned capitalist). The Edward Snowden biopic is closest to the second in plot terms but it lacks the urgency and righteous anger that risked being embarrassing, which makes this seem stale, cautious and under-imagined instead. Joseph Gordon-Levitt’s performance is suitably diligent. One thing: if your storytelling is hugely dependent on news clips and audio, are you making a dramatic feature or is it really a dramatised documentary? Another thing: it’s some kind of achievement to make even Nicolas Cage appear boring. But Stone manages.