What's Happened to the Cinema Experience?

My friend and I went to see Us (2019) last week, and while I'd love to sit here and discuss how good Jordan Peele's second feature film is (don't worry, I'll write a review soon), I found myself waking up this morning still incensed from the experience I had at the cinema itself.

"Back in my day!"

I know, nobody likes hearing people hark on about the "good old days" when things were different to how they are now, and why that somehow requires a 20-minute lecture about the abhorrent state of society. But hear me out, because to understand my gripes with the current cinema experience, we have to consider context.

When I was younger, one of the first film's I ever went to see was Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl (2003). I nearly shat my pants when the undead monkey popped up on screen, I cheered through Captain Jack's heroics and laughed at his quips. And aside from the film being everything 8-year old me could hope for, I remember loving the whole experience of visiting my local cinema. 

Geoffrey Rush and co. in Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl (2003)

Pick-and-mix on tap. Pop music in the foyer. Families laughing and crying at films together. It was a formative part of my childhood to go to a cinema because now I am so in love with films that it's ridiculous: I don't think I would've turned out that way had I not been taken to see things on the big screen. 

Now, an important aspect of any cinema visit is snacks. As a kid, we bought things from the concession stand: they were pricey, yes, but actual film tickets cost less than a fiver, so it was a luxury to splurge a bit on that extra large bag of popcorn or gorge yourself on too many chocolate M&Ms. It wasn't a necessity but it was just something you did to add to the experience.

Many of you who still go the cinema will know this, and I will explore it further in a second, but unless you only go the cinema occasionally, frequent movie-goers never buy anything from the concession stands anymore.

Why?

Well, I'd rather not have to take out a fucking loan to buy a small popcorn or sell my organs for a Coke.

Capitalist utopia

Let's fast forward back to the night in question. My friend and I enter the cinema, elated to see Us: I have personally been waiting well over a year to see this film and I've waited nearly a month to actually go because I pre-booked (yes, I was that damn excited).

Because I'd been gifted a voucher for my birthday, I had a little bit to spend of snacks: a rarity at this point because, as aforementioned, you don't buy food at cinemas anymore. The price of food is extortionate, to the point where people (including myself) often buy snacks in bulk from local corner shops before ever entering the cinema. 

Average annual cinema ticket price in the UK from 2000-2017 (in GBP)

You smuggle in your 99p chocolate to enjoy alone or with others because, seeing as cinema tickets now can cost anywhere up to £8 in the UK according to statistics dated in 2017 (though my local cinema charges up to £14 for an adult ticket, which is double the average), snacks are just not feasible. It's not stingy to turn around and refuse to pay £4.35 for a small popcorn when you can buy a bag from your local Tesco for a quid: that's called using your common sense.

Anyway, my friend and I decide to indulge ourselves in buying pick-and-mix: you're never too old for slightly chalky sweets that may or may not have been manhandled by a curious toddler beforehand. We chuck a couple of the ol' favourites in (I personally like chocolate mice, raisins and Smarties) and then go over to the register. To my absolute horror, she rings the bill up at £10. For pick-and-mix. 

I give a nervous chuckle and just pay what I can off my voucher card and then pay the rest by debit but my god, what kind of absolute madman must you be to price your sweets that high? Who on earth would pay for that? I know damn well my parents never would have bought me a bag of glorified corner shop sweets at a cinema if it meant costing them an arm and a leg to do so.

Cinema etiquette

So, at this point, my bank account is weeping in the background and I'm slightly disgruntled. But I acknowledge that this happens, that the average cinema is designed for #consumeristlife, so spending money is going to inevitably happen (even if it means throwing away £10 on fucking pick-and-mix).

On to the best part: watching the film. 

There's an unspoken rule, I believe, when it comes to seeing a film in public: be respectful of the audience. That means if you're watching something suspenseful, don't bring in bags of food that make a lot of noise. If you're seeing something subtitled (or, in my opinion, any film, subtitled or not), don't talk during the runtime. And the absolute obvious one: don't use your bloody phones. Don't take them out. Don't even have them on, unless you have to in case of emergencies. 

"Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe go fuck yourself." - The Departed (2006)

When we went to see Us, not only did people rustle behind us with their popcorn and crisps and whatnot, not only did people talk over the film when there were suspenseful moments and important, expositional dialogue, but they committed what I consider to be the worst of cinema sins: a couple of people were on their phones.

I watched one girl scrolling through her Insta feed and thought, "why the fuck are you here?"
Who pays this amount of money on a film and accompanying snacks to just...not watch the film? If you wanted to scroll through social media at your leisure and half-ass watch something, do it at home where you're not bothering anybody else. And I'm not trying to be some kind of elitist when it comes to cinema experiences, I just believe that it's "cinema etiquette".

I spoke to my best friend and fellow cinephile, Lili (@cinemellon) on her experiences with outlandish and rude cinema patrons, and she very kindly told me her experience when it came to seeing Hereditary (2018):

"When the film began, everything in the screen was fine, and during the first 20 minutes, everyone seemed to share the same sense of quiet tension with occasional nervous laughs. 

However, as the film went on, younger audience members started laughing at serious moments, talking loudly over dialogue, making jokes and making disruptive sounds. All of this was extremely distracting and I was completely thrown off. I was getting more and more angry and wasn't able to enjoy the film at all, no matter how hard I tried to focus.

I loved what I was seeing on screen but, after a while, I was just overcome by rage and sadness, wishing I would have waited until the DVD release.

Don't get me wrong, laughter alone would have been perfectly fine, but people were actively making fun of the film and ignoring the possibility that some people might actually want to pay attention and enjoy the experience they paid almost £15.

As soon as the credits rolled, I stood up and stormed the hell out of there."

Why bother, then?

The question you might now be asking is, "well why do you even go to the cinema then?"

Good question. The answer is simple: I don't.

And that's absolutely not to discourage anybody else from going because when I used to go to the cinema, I would stroll through those popcorn-scented corridors with my rose-tinted glasses firmly wedged onto my face, and I don't see any reason why other people shouldn't experience that.

My argument here is that...well, I don't get that experience anymore. Cinema has become so deeply imbedded in capitalism and profiting off their audience rather than setting up the perfect fairytale-esque experience that most people deeply crave when they go to see a film. 

There has been a debate recently on whether Roma (2018) should have ever qualified for being at the Oscars, considering it's a Netflix film: of course it does, it's a film that elicits strong, powerful emotions, directed by (in my opinion) one of the most visionary and kind directors of our generation. Of course it has a place at the Oscars, an award show that celebrates cinema, people. And a damn sight more filmgoers were able to see it because they were able to access Roma in the comfort of their homes for a considerably cheaper fee.

I understand that money has to factor into filmmaking: we wouldn't have films otherwise. But when did cinemas start to lose that magical edge? When did they forget why people came to see films at their establishments in the first place?

Because, as it stands, I only ever visit cinemas around once or twice a year. And it's not for the popcorn. 

- K

Art vs Artist: Can We Separate Entertainment From Those Who Tainted It?

[Reader disclaimer: this piece contains material of a sensitive nature].

Roman Polanski on the set of Rosemary's Baby (1968)

Following the controversies surrounding Leaving Neverland (2019), wherein the documentary follows Michael Jackson's child abuse allegations, and recent war between actors Amber Heard and Johnny Depp (which has now alluded to both being victims and perpetrators of domestic violence), there has been a question and thought on everyone's mind: are we still allowed to like the films/music they've made?

I've talked with people in my life about this, some of which argue that you are indeed able to seperate a problematic person from their format, others that disagree and say that by supporting someone's film/song/product, you are complicit in supporting that artist as a person. 

For me, I find this to be a difficult question to answer. On the one hand, one person's actions should not condemn a whole film: one actor does not equate to an entire movie, there are directors, cinematographers, producers, camera technicians, special effects and makeup teams...the list is endless. They were not responsible for a leading man/woman's faults. 

However, that being said, I recently watched Moon (2009) for a review, and despite him not even appearing on screen, the sound of Kevin Spacey's voice made me feel incredibly ill. It didn't detract from the whole experience of watching the film but it certainly made me uneasy just hearing him be in it.

Stanley Kubrick and Shelley Duvall on set of The Shining (1980)

We as a society are not unused to hearing people in the film industry attempting to veil their sins off-screen, unfortunately. One of the biggest directors in Hollywood, and one of the most problematic ones, was Stanley Kubrick, who you will undoubtedly know as the man who directed such iconic films like The Shining (1980), 2001: A Space Odyssey (1968) and A Clockwork Orange (1971).

His talents made for some of the most intriguing, awe-inspiring scenes we have ever seen in cinema, and I think that goes without question. But if we strip away his art, if we look at who he was as a person, Kubrick was a self-aggrandising bully on-set, an artist with an inflated ego and a short temper.

He is renowned for his mistreatment of leading actress, Shelley Duvall, who went on to have many mental breakdowns and was as recently as 2016 seen to be suffering from severe mental illness: that is not to say that I'm accusing Kubrick of inflicting Duvall with that but it certainly seems that his influence back in the early 80s left Duvall with arguably severe bouts of PTSD. That is, of course, just speculation...but I digress.

Victor Salva on set of Jeepers Creepers (2001)

Another director who has faced controversy is Victor Salva, which I wasn't aware of until recently (a few years back, I'd say) had been convicted of molesting a 12-year old boy and possessing child pornography.

Insane, right? Surely, then, he was blacklisted from ever making films again.

Wrong.

In fact, after a five year hiatus, Salva went back to being a fulltime film director, his latest project being as recent as Jeepers Creepers 3 in 2017. When I discovered his previous convictions, I was absolutely appalled to know that he was still praised in the inner circles of horror fandoms and still given the time of day to create anything. Then again, people still love Roman Polanski, and he's a straight-up rapist. 

Charlotte Gainsbourg and Lars Von Trier on set of Antichrist (2009)

Tobe Hooper. Lars Von Trier. Quentin Tarantino. Ruggero Deodato. 

The list is endless. And these are just horror/thriller directors, I'm not even mentioning the countless others that have committed pretty horrendous crimes within Hollywood.

So why do we still watch their films? Should we watch their films? 

From what I can gather, it's largely down to personal preference. Society claims to maintain a moral compass when it comes to this sort of thing, ready to blow the whistle on anybody willing to step out of line, but if we're being entirely honest here, some of us just...let things slide. 

It's hard, I guess, for some people to accept that their heroes or idols are problematic, indeed, sometimes even as far as dangerous, because we crave what they create. As a consumerist species, we thrive on new film releases, glue ourselves to the TV for the next episode, tune in to the radio or Spotify to hear the new top 40 because entertainment is made for everybody to enjoy. 

But recently I've found myself noticing that a lot of people make excuses to keep that influx of entertainment going, at a point where they will disregard fact and evidence of wrongdoings to ensure that those creative products keep coming out.

Ruggero Deodato on set of Cannibal Holocaust (1980)

This is, of course, not to shame anybody. I am guilty of this myself: whilst I refuse to buy it because I don't want to support distribution of it, I still enjoy Cannibal Holocaust (1980). It's a horror film. It was made to be consumed and enjoyed. Of course I can't stand that they murdered and filmed animals for the sake of their "art" but whether I watch it or not, it's still out there and it's still watched by others.

I think that we've come to a point in time where if we see behaviour that is unacceptable, regardless of your status, you need to be removed from the entertainment industry pending investigation. Kevin Spacey was no exception. Neither was Bryan Singer. Yet we allowed people like Johnny Depp (yes, I know that's a complicated one right now, don't @ me) and Chris Pratt to continue their work because...well...people love them and think they're pretty.

It's so strange to me that audiences will come to the defense of a genuinely shitty person, claiming that "I know he/she would never do that!" as if they have any real impact of their lives as celebrities. You don't know these people and, chances are, they don't know you: they're paid to dazzle you with their acting abilities, they're paid to entertain. Funnily enough, I don't want to pay to see a rapist or a paedophile or an abuser act for me because I'd rather see them rot in prison.

Gunnar Hansen and Tobe Cooper on set of Texas Chainsaw Massacre (1974)

So, what do you think? Can we separate art from their artists? Are we allowed to enjoy the creative product without praising the one who makes it? Or do we disregard art if it's created by someone who does not respect the law or the moral boundaries that humanity has set in place?

- K

Film Reviews: Skilful Yet Monotonous [Roma, 2018]

Roma (2018)

[Reader disclaimer: spoilers will be discussed].

This is it, ladies and gents and non-binaries alike: this is the last hurdle. We finally come to Roma (2018), the 8th and final Best Picture nominee. I had placed this one last due to convenience but also because I am such a fan of director, Alfonso Cuarόn. 

It was to my disappointment, then, when I found myself not enjoying Roma very much. In fact, I tweeted on Thursday night (@Hristowen) that "[...] I feel like I was meant to like that more than I actually did, which is disappointing in itself".

Before I delve into why I felt that way, I would like to say that I think Roma is an incredibly important film. There's a reason why there's so much love and hype surrounding it: it is a vital watch, in my opinion, due to its subject matter. However, just because something is skilfully made, it doesn't mean it can't be monotonous, and I found myself coming to that conclusion after only 10 minutes into the runtime.

Anyway, I digress. 

Roma is a realism piece, set in 1970-71, which follows the lives of a family and their maids (played by Yalitza Aparicio and Nancy García). It explores the socio-political struggles of that era, interspersing shots and background dialogue of violent, civil uprisings, themes of adultery and commentary of working class in such a realistic way that the audience feels as if they are truly an observer to the real lives of others.

I found the characters to be authentic and endearing, as well as the interpersonal relationships that are established on and off screen: the maid character, Cleo (Aparicio) in particular becomes the forefront of the family's narrative, showing her dedication to her work, her accidental pregnancy and subsequent loss of child, as well as her bond with the family (especially the children) strengthened as time goes by. 

The cinematography is wonderful, as expected of Cuarόn. The panoramic and tracking shots, accompanied with purely diegetic sound, grounds the film in its realism and makes for an immersive viewing experience. Certain scenes are so skillfully constructed (like the scene of Cleo giving birth to her stillborn daughter) that, although they translate as harrowing and upsetting, they are also raw, arguably visceral in their understanding of real life. 

Roma is also successful in its ability to be subtle: from poignant scenes such as Antonio (played by Fernando Grediaga) parking his car with precision, demonstrating what kind of a man his character is before we even hear any dialogue from him, to more subtle scenes such as the civil war propaganda that can be seen behind characters, out of focus but not out of frame.

It's undeniable that this film is skilfully made but my biggest argument is that it's a think-piece. And there's nothing wrong with that, but it stands out like a sore thumb in comparison to the other Best Picture nominees, arguably focusing too much on interpretation than anything else.

As time went by, I found myself losing interest in what was happening. The opening three minutes of film alone have absolutely no sound, focusing primarily on the floor as water is being washed over it: yes, I know this parallels the end of the film, and I know what symbolic significance it holds in regards to the rest of the narrative, but it's not engaging. I found it monotonous and it dragged on for a long time. 

Despite the ending being uplifting, with the characters emerging from their individual feats of pain and pursuing a happier way of life, I also felt as if it took too long for us to get there; it reminds me somewhat of Bicycle Thieves (1948): wonderfully edited and shot but not particularly engaging until the second half of the film. The third act, in my opinion, was the best part of the film because more things happen. A film doesn't have to be as action-packed as Mission Impossible (1996) to get its point across but it does have to give the viewer a reason to keep watching it: if I hadn't have sat down to review this film, it's very likely that I wouldn't have had the attention span to finish it, which is saying a lot.

I think this may come down to taste. Roma is a brilliant film in many ways but perhaps it's just not my kind of film: I know that it has garnered praise from many critics and websites alike, so I objectively know that it's not as boring as I made it out to be.

What's it nominated for?

Currently, Roma is nominated for:

• Best Picture - Alfonso Cuarόn and Gabriela Rodriguez 
• Best Actress - Yalitza Aparicio
• Best Supporting Actress - Marina de Tavira
• Best Director - Alfonso Cuarόn
• Best Foreign Language Film - Alfonso Cuarόn
• Best Original Screenplay - Alfonso Cuarόn
• Best Cinematography - Alfonso Cuarόn
• Best Sound Mixing - Skip Lievsay, José García and Craig Henighan
• Best Production Design - Barbara Enriquez and Eugenio Caballero
• Best Sound Editing - Sergio Diaz and Skip Lievsay

Should it win?

Despite the fact that I personally didn't enjoy it, I know that it's a wonderfully executed film and I have no doubt that it will garner a lot of votes for Best Picture. Whether it'll win or not, I don't know. 

I am almost 99% convinced that it will get Best Cinematography and Best Sound Editing, due to the fact that I'd argue it goes unrivalled: The Favourite (2018) and A Quiet Place (2018) are probably its only competition in those areas and I'll be hugely disappointed if it doesn't win either award. 

I cannot say for certain where it stands in association with Best Foreign Language Film because I currently haven't seen any of the other nominees, but I think it stands a good chance of winning that as well.

Overall rating: 7/10

- K

Film Reviews: A Classic Tale of Opposition [Green Book, 2018]

Green Book (2018)

[Reader disclaimer: there will be spoilers discussed].

For our penultimate review this week, we'll be delving into Green Book (2018), yet another "true story" biopic, this time focusing on pianist, Dr Don Shirley (played by Mahershala Ali) and his driver, Tony Vallelonga (played by Viggo Mortensen).

Green Book, in a nutshell, is the classical tale of opposition: ignorance versus intelligence, prejudice versus acceptance, normality versus outliers. It is exceptional in its subtleties, adhering to themes of hidden homosexuality, suppressed racism and even feelings of personal inadequacy. Like BlacKkKlansman (2018), it is set in the past (namely, for Green Book, the early 60s) but the displays of racial discrimination and generalised view of ethnicity in the film are just as applicable today as they were back then. In that sense, Green Book is also a sociopolitical commentary of contemporary racism, but it focuses on both the African American experience as well as the Italian American experience.

The film has been criticised for making Mortensen's character a "white saviour", glorifying his role in the narrative as the one who saves the man of colour from himself. However, I would argue that Mortensen's character undergoes similar changes to that of Ali's, exploring identity issues deeply rooted in his heritage and having to undergo the process of unlearning toxic or prejudicial traits. It is, in my opinion, equally balanced: what starts as an opposition, two bookends of the same, discriminating spectrum, becomes a harmonious connection over the span of the film's runtime.

As aforementioned, one of my favourite things about this film is the way in which it uses subtlety: be it speech convergence, silent scenes (such as Mortensen binning the cups that the POC used) or the omission of evident fact, Green Book spends time establishing character, motive and scenes in such cleverly veiled ways which are both simultaneously obvious in their meaning and not.

Unfortunately, there are some things that I found rather unsettling. Although the somewhat cringeworthy accent that Mortensen uses becomes surprisingly endearing as the film progresses, I found issue not with the movie itself, but with the context thereafter: it wasn't until I'd finished the film that I began to research into it for my review (I usually do a background check for context etc.) and that was when I found that not only did Don Shirley's real family condemn the film for its inaccuracies (it's never a good film if a biopic poorly reflects the subject matter, even if it's partly fictionalised...looking at you, Bohemian Rhapsody) but that Viggo Mortensen used the n-word in a press conference of the film.

Not only that but Nick Vallelonga, son of Tony and co-writer for the film, has recently been called out for past tweets that adhere to President Trump's racist ideologies, supporting the claim that Muslims were to blame for 9/11: it is now that I should point out for those of you who are not informed, that Mahershala Ali, one of the main actors in Green Book, is Muslim. So you can understand why that didn't go down too well.

Whilst Mortensen has now apologised for his use of the n-word, and has been supported by Ali who claims that "there's a difference between racism, insensitivity and a lack of awareness" and thinks that to move forward, people need to embrace that kind of apology for a lack of awareness in order to heal, the other contextual factors are admittedly troubling. I can guarantee that without this information, the film is thoroughly enjoyable, and knowing this now, it still doesn't detract from my experience of enjoying it, but the controversy surrounding Green Book may have an impact on its performance at the Oscars.

Having said that, I found this film to be surprisingly endearing. The third act especially is as empowering as it is wholesome, depicting both Mortensen and Ali's characters as more accepting and loving people, embracing their differences and finding solace in each other as friends. Regardless of whether this really happened in reality, it works well as a fictional piece.

What's it nominated for?

Currently, Green Book is nominated for:

• Best Picture - Peter Farrelly, Nick Vallelonga and Brian Currie
• Best Actor - Viggo Mortensen
• Best Supporting Actor - Mahershala Ali
• Best Original Screenplay - Peter Farrelly, Nick Vallelonga and Brian Currie
• Best Film Editing - Patrick J. Don Vito

Should it win?

Despite it being one of the higher ratings in my list, I don't think it'll win Best Picture. I'd like it to, but not as much as I'd want films like BlacKkKlansman or The Favourite (2018) to win. I imagine Adam Driver will get Best Supporting Actor but, again, I'd like for Mahershala Ali to get it.

I think, in terms of awards, it's wishful thinking. And I think that's a shame because I genuinely believe that Green Book is one of the best nominated films on this list.

Overall rating: 8/10

- K

Film Reviews: America's Most Hated [Vice, 2018]

Vice (2018)

[Reader disclaimer: there will be spoilers discussed].

Alright. I'm going to open with my generalised statement for this movie: it's not my favourite. I have no intention of ever watching this film again. This is not to say that it is a bad film, just not one that I would consider to be in league with the other nominees in Best Picture.

That being said, let's dive in. So, Vice (2018) is another political biopic, concerning itself with the life and career of Republican official, Dick Cheney (played by Christian Bale). I will admit that I am not very attuned to the political climate in the United States (as I am a lowly reviewer from England, UK), so had I not watched this for my blog, I would never have been inclined to pick it up and give it a watch. The only socio-political biopic based in America that I can think of off the top of my head (that I enjoyed, I mean) is probably Frost/Nixon (2008) and that's from 10 years ago now.

So, because I'm not well-versed in American politics, perhaps I was not as engaged as an average American would be. But I believe a biopic (especially one that is up for Best Picture) should have a universal appeal, which I'd argue that Vice does not. 

I'd say that this film toes the line between satirical and just plain silly: it needed to lean one way or the other, because some sections depicted Cheney and his lackies as cartoonish villains and then other sections would try to humanise them. I ended up wondering whether Adam McKay, director of Vice, should've stuck to inserting politics into comedy rather than the other way round because this format didn't really work for me.

That being said, there were parts of this film that I truly appreciated. The use of freeze frames and voice over felt akin to the works of Martin Scorsese mashed up with the hilariously propagandised works of Paul Verhoeven, giving the film an interesting and unique tone. 

The bizarre segments interspersed within the narrative, including a Shakespearean-esque soliloquy, Cheney's fourth wall break, an end credit sequence mid-way through the film (a stylistic choice used as a kind of 'fakeout') and a post-credit scene of characters debating the possible political bias of the film, made Vice stand out from past biopics: this accompaniment of an unreliable narrator and disregard for general filmmaking rules made it an entertaining watch.

However, this film has a glaring problem. It may end up demonising Cheney and his Republican posse but I don't think Vice is entitled to its merit on the basis that it's a political film. BlacKkKlansman (2018) is a political film but I hold it in higher regard than Vice because it gives us something worth watching: the empowerment of minorities and the struggles they face as a community. Vice is about yet another old, white, male politician, abusing his power within a systematic country with far too much power for its own good. If I wanted to watch that again, I'd just stick The Ides of March (2011) on.

Overall, anything included in this film can be garnered from five minutes traipsing Wikipedia, rendering the movie's information obsolete: stylistically, yes, it's rather interesting and worth watching, but the plot holds no real substance.

What's it nominated for?

Currently, Vice is nominated for:

• Best Picture - Adam McKay, Dede Gardner, Jeremy Kleiner, Megan Ellison, Will Ferrell, Kevin J. Messick and Brad Pitt
• Best Actor - Christian Bale
• Best Supporting Actor - Sam Rockwell
• Best Supporting Actress - Amy Adams
• Best Director - Adam McKay
• Best Original Screenplay - Adam McKay
• Best Film Editing - Hank Corwin
• Best Makeup - Greg Cannom, Kate Biscoe and Patricia Dehaney-Le May

Should it win?

In the simplest possible way: absolutely not. I think it has a shot at Best Makeup but that's about it: it is outranked in pretty much every single category it's nominated for, which is such a shame because both Sam Rockwell and Amy Adams gave stellar performances respectively. 

Overall rating: 5/10

- K

Film Reviews: You're Pretty When Outraged [The Favourite, 2018]

The Favourite (2018)

[Reader disclaimer: there will be spoilers discussed].

Next up on our list is The Favourite (2018), a historical drama focusing on 18th century ruler Queen Anne (played by Olivia Colman) and her relationship with her friend, Sarah (played by Rachel Weisz) and Sarah's cousin, Abigail (played by Emma Stone).

What is essentially a story of two women trying to win favour with the queen, this film is surprising in many ways. The dialogue, atypical of its genre, was wonderfully weird and vulgar in places. The quasi-queer chemistry between our main characters drove the narrative for the main part but the addition of other supporting actors (such as Nicholas Hoult and Joe Alwyn) made for some delightfully strange and, at times, harrowing scenes. 

One thing that especially stood out for me was structure and stylism. As aforementioned, this film is far from a stereotypical insight into a historical moment, moreso it is a period of time fashioned by modernised camera techniques (e.g. the use of a fish-eye lens) and title cards with witty quips and quotes to structure the narrative into acts. 

The main selling point, in my opinion, is that everybody is a villain but likeable in their own way. Weisz is a hard-hitting, tough-loving cast member whose on-screen relationship with Colman is, to put it plainly, simply spellbinding. Colman, in turn, is the other end of the spectrum: paranoid, daft yet stern, and somewhat child-like. These opposing forces make for some truly exceptional interactions, conveying both vulnerability yet a deep-seated relationship which in some scenes goes unsaid because it's unnecessary.  

Though I deeply enjoyed The Favourite, it had its flaws: its use of quick cuts are effective but, I feel, the use of transitions are misplaced. The pace of the film takes a drastic drop after the second act and, although consistent afterwards, feels as though it is dragging itself along; the end scene itself was (in my opinion) entirely too long. 

There are also questions left unanswered in the stead of the film's conclusion. Why is Queen Anne so opposed to the sound of music? Why does Abigail strive for power, knowing that she can never hold it under the current monarch's rule? I suppose some things are supposed to be left to the imagination but if you're going to include small details, at least allude to an explanation, otherwise deem it unnecessary to the plot and emit it entirely. 

Other than that, I have very little to chastise this film for. It's nowhere near perfect, but it's most certainly one of the best of the ones I've seen so far: in essence, I understand why it's nominated for Best Picture.

What's it nominated for?

Currently, The Favourite is nominated for:

• Best Picture - Yorgos Lanthimos, Ed Guiney, Ceci Dempsey and Lee Magiday
• Best Actress - Olivia Colman
• Best Supporting Actress - Emma Stone and Rachel Weisz
• Best Director - Yorgos Lanthimos 
• Best Original Screenplay - Deborah Davis and Tony McNamara 
• Best Cinematography - Robbie Ryan
• Best Costume Design - Sandy Powell
• Best Film Editing - Yorgos Mavropsaridis
• Best Production Design - Fiona Crombie and Alice Felton

Should it win?

I see no reason why it shouldn't. Amongst the other four films I've watched thus far, I'd rank it in the top tier, purely due to its originality and performances from both Colman and Weisz. 

As for the actress awards, Colman will be hard-pushed to beat Gaga: not due to ability, mind you, but due to popularity. Gaga sits well with modern audiences and, although Colman is far more established, I'd argue that the marketing for The Favourite wasn't as strong as A Star Is Born (2018); I'd say that Weisz will nab Best Supporting, which is a shame because Amy Adams was phenomenal in Vice (2018).

I mentioned in my review of Black Panther (2018) that it was a strong contender for Best Costume Design, given that it goes unrivalled by any other films, however I will say that the costumes in The Favourite were absolutely gorgeous and surprisingly contemporary in some places, and therefore I believe the award is going to be a tug-of-war between the two.

Overall rating: 8/10

- K

Film Reviews: One Great Singer Does Not A Movie Make [A Star Is Born, 2018]

A Star Is Born (2018)

[Reader disclaimer: there will be spoilers discussed. This piece also contains material of a sensitive nature].

And now onto one of the more surprising nominees on our list this week: A Star Is Born (2018). I have seen so much damn hype about this film and I couldn't for the life of me bring myself to sit down and watch it until, one night during the week, I conceded defeat and allowed myself to watch with an open mind.

I will say this: Bradley Cooper and Lady Gaga have amazing vocals throughout this film, Gaga especially. Some of the songs were hair-raising due to Gaga's exceptional range (though that was to be expected). I even enjoyed the introduction of her character, conveying a kind of manic yet controlled woman who expresses herself through drag clubs and isn't afraid to pull a punch (a scene in which her character, Ally, clocks a dude in the jaw was top tier comedy and no one can change my mind on that). However, on the flipside, the introduction to Jackson (played by Cooper) felt like a heavy-handed slap to the face, immediately jumping to the washed-up rocker cliche, a trope we've seen a million times.

Jackson's character is more in-depth than that later on, as we see that he is an ACOA (Adult Child of an Alcoholic) who is suffering from alcoholism and depression himself. I found this aspect of his character to be very realistic and the sequence in the third act in which he commits suicide is so hauntingly powerful due to its lack of diegetic sound and parallels with an earlier anecdote in which his character explains that he previously attempted suicide at the age of 13 by hanging.

The end of the film felt particularly poignant, with Ally returning to her natural hair colour (a nod to her returning to her roots, no pun intended) and singing a heartbreaking song to honour Jackson's character. The third act, overall, undoubtedly yanks at your heartstrings and refuses to let go until you've coughed up at least one stray tear.

However. That is the third act. As for the first two, I have to say that there were elements that just didn't meet the mark for me. 

For example, the initial interaction between Jackson and Ally (and then the subsequent interactions after that) felt horribly awkward in places, with characters stepping on each other's lines and sometimes forgetting or refusing to make eye contact where deemed necessary: I think this may have been Cooper's attempt at realism but I just found it distracting. I would go as far as to say that the dialogue is enjoyable but clumsily executed for the most part.

Ally's character also gave me food for thought because, despite being wonderfully fleshed out and well written, she takes a complete U-turn in dealing with Jackson, cutting between scenes of initially coming to terms with the fact that he's an alcoholic and then shots of her almost enabling him, indulging in his stupid behaviour as if they're children. If this is character development, then I'd say it felt insincere and an injustice to her character.

I wouldn't say that A Star Is Born is a necessarily bad film: on the contrary, I found myself surprised by how much I enjoyed it. The thing is, and I may be shot for saying this, it feels as if A Star Is Born is this year's La La Land (2016): united by passion of music, divided by creative ambition and personal demons. What I mean to say is, this didn't feel particularly original in terms of story (although I suppose it wouldn't be, considering it's a remake...of a remake...of a remake...and so on).

What's it nominated for?

Currently, A Star Is Born is nominated for:

• Best Picture - Bradley Cooper, Bill Gerber and Lynette Howell Taylor
• Best Actor - Bradley Cooper
• Best Actress - Lady Gaga
• Best Supporting Actor - Sam Elliott
• Best Adapted Screenplay - Bradley Cooper, Eric Roth and Will Fetters
• Best Cinematography - Matthew Libatique
• Best Sound Mixing - Steve A. Morrow, Jason Ruder, Dean Zupancic and Tom Ozanich
• Best Original Song - Shallow - Lady Gaga and Bradley Cooper

Should it win?

Again, in terms of Best Picture, no. In comparison, it just doesn't meet the standard, in this writer's opinion. That's not to say that it isn't a good film with some exceptionally beautiful moments in it, but I doubt it'll win Best Picture.

I also highly doubt that Bradley Cooper will win Best Actor, either: the drawl he created for his character in this film felt akin to Jeff Bridges in True Grit (2010), that is to say, I could barely fucking understand him for the majority of this film.

In lending her vocals to this feature film, Gaga has most certainly ensured that it'll win at least one award, though, and I believe that'll be Best Original Song, as it's one of the film's greatest assets.

Overall rating: 7/10

- K