NIGHTCRAWLER ****
INTERSTELLAR ****
Let's begin with Nightcrawler, a film whose lead performance is generating plenty of awards buzz in a crammed season of critically acclaimed cinema. Jake Gyllenhaal's greatest roles in previous films (Donnie Darko, Brokeback Mountain) are attributed as so because of the implicit pain felt within each character, which is only ever exemplified through subtle traits and mannerisms. Think Gyllenhaal's perennial twitch as Detective Loki in Prisoners. He is a master of character subtext, and there is plenty of this beneath Louis Bloom, the central character of Nightcrawler, though there is also something more sinister crawling on the surface. The film follows Lou, a shady yet 'ambitious' petty thief, who segues into crime journalism, which he sees as a definitive money-maker. He drives to scenes of distressing accidents, films the horror (even when irking LA's finest) and sells the footage to local TV news producer Nina (Rene Russo). In quickening his pace to these scenes, so that he can beat rival nightcrawler Joe Loder (Bill Paxton) to the hard cash on offer, he hires Rick (Riz Ahmed) as an intern to direct him to the destination, as well as being his second camera. Desperation starts to corrode Bloom's actions; he manipulates scenes as he arrives, violating police protocol and breaking the law to fan the flame of a story. From hereupon, Bloom corrupts himself to such heights, that there is nothing he will not do to stimulate his success.
But he does not fall... the astonishment of Nightcrawler lies in the final scene, where Louis has gone on to expand his business, Video Production News, without facing lawful punishment for his culpable misconduct. Bloom is an anti-protagonist; he is, although fascinating to watch, an unsavoury lurker. It would normally be a prerequisite that a character such as himself would be driven to his comeuppance in the denouement, though like Hannibal Lecter in Silence of the Lambs, Bloom is a guilty (though not guild ridden) free man. Silence of the Lambs is an interesting comparison, Clarice Starling, an independent and tenacious young woman is toyed with by Lecter through her haunted past. Rene Russo's Nina, an older, shadier woman though with similar traits and vices, contends with the same treatment. Bloom utilises his footage as a way in with Nina, to bargain with her, to 'fuck' her. In taking her out to dinner, he manages to strip her no-nonsense demeanour, giving her an exploiting speech that proves to be efficacious. Perhaps this first swipe of manipulation forebodes Bloom's happy ending.
The creature that is Bloom is a gaunt and malnourished design of Gyllenhaal's, a scavenging hyena, though testament to the actor with his dominance in dialogue juxtaposing this meagre exterior that one would normally want to eschew contact with. Blatantly weird, he still wrangles his way around people and places with little trouble. An Oscar nomination for Lead Actor and Supporting Actress should go to Jake and Rene, with the latter reminiscent of Linda Fiorentino in The Last Seduction, though Fiorentino's Bridget Gregory would be impenetrable to Bloom's untactful tactics.
An honourable mention must go to the car chase; every vehicle on vehicle pursuit carries with it an inauspicious threat, but Nightcrawler's really is up there with Claude Lelouch's Rendezvous and Nicolas Winding Refn's Drive.
With Los Angeles so candidly observed by Dan Gilroy (brother of Tony), Nightcrawler is an honest depiction of the city's not-so-glitzy underbelly. It is a hybrid of pungent themes present in Network, Bringing Out the Dead, as well as the stylistic elements of Peeping Tom. It is a prowling and predatory picture, biting into the maniacal world of the media. It is its own movie though, and although the influences are palpable, this is highly original work. It is the anti-awards film. Dangerously funny and thrillingly toxic, it does not cry out for attention, yet it is unavoidable.
It is as easy to give Interstellar a five star review as it is to give it a three star review. Some have been amazed by the majesty of the visuals, whereas others have complained about the theoretical science and lack of cogency in the film's basic story structure. Let me first say that every point is valid, apart from critics labelling Interstellar's theoretical science as 'facile'. Because they, in themselves, are being facile. Kip Thorne's theories, which Christopher Nolan states 'could be possible', are pure speculation. I have seen reviews in which the film has been lamented for this; trust me, reviewers like this are travelling to all dimensions of stupidity. Interstellar is dynamic in its ambition, though the vibrant visuals do not obscure some fundamental flaws in the story.
A short synopsis... A team of space explorers, led by ex-engineer Cooper (Matthew McConaughey), board the Endurance and travel through a wormhole to another galaxy, to find a hospitable planet, as Earth (ruined by famine and droughts) is dying. The galaxy-by-galaxy via wormhole route is known as 'interstellar travel'.
There is obviously so much more to the film than this, but the main factor, for me, is Cooper's relationship with his daughter, Murph, as a youngster played by Mackenzie Foy, as a grown up played by Jessica Chastain, and as an elderly woman played by Ellen Burstyn. For, due to errors during the mission, the clocks on earth run much faster than where Cooper and his fellow astronauts are stationed. Thus, reversing McConaughey's famous Dazed and Confused quote to him staying the same age, and the people back home growing older. The relationship between the two is the axis on which the whole film spins on, and I do not agree with certain critics that scorn over Chastain's Murph as 'too bitter', suggesting that she should have grown out of the resentment she feels towards her father leaving. Why should she have? She is her father in many ways, plus, the fact that she and her brother are representative of Earth's last generation must be fucking frightening. Her father left her 'to save the world', he promised, but after twenty-three years, one would think that Murph has mostly given up all hope, when we first see her embodied by Chastain. Therefore, I for one totally understand this unshakable bitterness. Later on however, her hope ignites into what she foresees as fact; knowing her father to be alive, signalling her via another dimension at the films climax, how she and not he can be the saviour for posterity. And yes, the believability levels on this are quite low, but I will remind the critics who complained about this, that Kip Thorne's work is speculation, which fuels Interstellar to the Science-Fiction genre, rather than cementing it as a factual space movie. It is in the middle-ground between Apollo 13 and Star Wars. If a movie is based on speculation, it will have the components of fact and fiction, and they will both be present in the script. I digressed into ranting then, I apologise profusely. The relationship between Murph and Cooper is the film's foundation and one of its strongest assets. One can see why Mr Spielberg was the original captain of Interstellar.
I agree that the film could spend longer on Earth in the beginning, though the jump-cut from Cooper driving away to Cooper on the Endurance ready to launch is a stunning feat of film-making.
Interstellar is perhaps lacking the narrative verve and vigour that is the holding wall of The Dark Knight and Inception. It may very well be closer to The Dark Knight Rises in its somewhat tangled story-telling structure, with such issues as Professor Brand's (Michael Caine) revelation that the mission's Plan A was always an implausible feat. This was akin to punching any old jigsaw piece into a particular shaped space. It was a throw-away plot point that was thrown in. Talking of Caine's character, Professor Brand's relationship with his own daughter comes off as impassive. It is void of the emotional pull that exists in Cooper and Murph's own correlation, though I wager that it was a more felt presence in previous drafts of the script, before edits were made. Having said this, Interstellar soars as an event movie. It is revolutionary, with its Imax 70mm format capturing images that could blow even the most expansive of minds. On a visual basis, it is the 2001 of our generation.
Peter Bradshaw, whilst on Film 2014 the other week, blasted Nolan as the new 'M Night Shyamalan' and Antonia Quirke stated that Interstellar made 'Armageddon look like Tarkovsky's Solaris'. Irrational and insulting towards not just Nolan, but Shyamalan as well, these views were totally unjust (and highly inaccurate). Interstellar has a few imperfections, but hey, nothing's perfect and the wonderful thing about Christopher Nolan is, that he understands that. Though, with a filmography as diverse and beguiling as his, he will always come pretty damn close to perfect.
In my next posts I will be reviewing The Imitation Game (which I watched yesterday), discussing Richard Linklater's 'Before...' Trilogy, gifting you with my 'Seven Best Openings to a Motion Picture' and writing up the 'Seven Best Films of 2014' and the 'Seven Worst Films of 2014'. Maybe that'll start a discussion...
The creature that is Bloom is a gaunt and malnourished design of Gyllenhaal's, a scavenging hyena, though testament to the actor with his dominance in dialogue juxtaposing this meagre exterior that one would normally want to eschew contact with. Blatantly weird, he still wrangles his way around people and places with little trouble. An Oscar nomination for Lead Actor and Supporting Actress should go to Jake and Rene, with the latter reminiscent of Linda Fiorentino in The Last Seduction, though Fiorentino's Bridget Gregory would be impenetrable to Bloom's untactful tactics.
An honourable mention must go to the car chase; every vehicle on vehicle pursuit carries with it an inauspicious threat, but Nightcrawler's really is up there with Claude Lelouch's Rendezvous and Nicolas Winding Refn's Drive.
With Los Angeles so candidly observed by Dan Gilroy (brother of Tony), Nightcrawler is an honest depiction of the city's not-so-glitzy underbelly. It is a hybrid of pungent themes present in Network, Bringing Out the Dead, as well as the stylistic elements of Peeping Tom. It is a prowling and predatory picture, biting into the maniacal world of the media. It is its own movie though, and although the influences are palpable, this is highly original work. It is the anti-awards film. Dangerously funny and thrillingly toxic, it does not cry out for attention, yet it is unavoidable.
It is as easy to give Interstellar a five star review as it is to give it a three star review. Some have been amazed by the majesty of the visuals, whereas others have complained about the theoretical science and lack of cogency in the film's basic story structure. Let me first say that every point is valid, apart from critics labelling Interstellar's theoretical science as 'facile'. Because they, in themselves, are being facile. Kip Thorne's theories, which Christopher Nolan states 'could be possible', are pure speculation. I have seen reviews in which the film has been lamented for this; trust me, reviewers like this are travelling to all dimensions of stupidity. Interstellar is dynamic in its ambition, though the vibrant visuals do not obscure some fundamental flaws in the story.
A short synopsis... A team of space explorers, led by ex-engineer Cooper (Matthew McConaughey), board the Endurance and travel through a wormhole to another galaxy, to find a hospitable planet, as Earth (ruined by famine and droughts) is dying. The galaxy-by-galaxy via wormhole route is known as 'interstellar travel'.
There is obviously so much more to the film than this, but the main factor, for me, is Cooper's relationship with his daughter, Murph, as a youngster played by Mackenzie Foy, as a grown up played by Jessica Chastain, and as an elderly woman played by Ellen Burstyn. For, due to errors during the mission, the clocks on earth run much faster than where Cooper and his fellow astronauts are stationed. Thus, reversing McConaughey's famous Dazed and Confused quote to him staying the same age, and the people back home growing older. The relationship between the two is the axis on which the whole film spins on, and I do not agree with certain critics that scorn over Chastain's Murph as 'too bitter', suggesting that she should have grown out of the resentment she feels towards her father leaving. Why should she have? She is her father in many ways, plus, the fact that she and her brother are representative of Earth's last generation must be fucking frightening. Her father left her 'to save the world', he promised, but after twenty-three years, one would think that Murph has mostly given up all hope, when we first see her embodied by Chastain. Therefore, I for one totally understand this unshakable bitterness. Later on however, her hope ignites into what she foresees as fact; knowing her father to be alive, signalling her via another dimension at the films climax, how she and not he can be the saviour for posterity. And yes, the believability levels on this are quite low, but I will remind the critics who complained about this, that Kip Thorne's work is speculation, which fuels Interstellar to the Science-Fiction genre, rather than cementing it as a factual space movie. It is in the middle-ground between Apollo 13 and Star Wars. If a movie is based on speculation, it will have the components of fact and fiction, and they will both be present in the script. I digressed into ranting then, I apologise profusely. The relationship between Murph and Cooper is the film's foundation and one of its strongest assets. One can see why Mr Spielberg was the original captain of Interstellar.
I agree that the film could spend longer on Earth in the beginning, though the jump-cut from Cooper driving away to Cooper on the Endurance ready to launch is a stunning feat of film-making.
Interstellar is perhaps lacking the narrative verve and vigour that is the holding wall of The Dark Knight and Inception. It may very well be closer to The Dark Knight Rises in its somewhat tangled story-telling structure, with such issues as Professor Brand's (Michael Caine) revelation that the mission's Plan A was always an implausible feat. This was akin to punching any old jigsaw piece into a particular shaped space. It was a throw-away plot point that was thrown in. Talking of Caine's character, Professor Brand's relationship with his own daughter comes off as impassive. It is void of the emotional pull that exists in Cooper and Murph's own correlation, though I wager that it was a more felt presence in previous drafts of the script, before edits were made. Having said this, Interstellar soars as an event movie. It is revolutionary, with its Imax 70mm format capturing images that could blow even the most expansive of minds. On a visual basis, it is the 2001 of our generation.
Peter Bradshaw, whilst on Film 2014 the other week, blasted Nolan as the new 'M Night Shyamalan' and Antonia Quirke stated that Interstellar made 'Armageddon look like Tarkovsky's Solaris'. Irrational and insulting towards not just Nolan, but Shyamalan as well, these views were totally unjust (and highly inaccurate). Interstellar has a few imperfections, but hey, nothing's perfect and the wonderful thing about Christopher Nolan is, that he understands that. Though, with a filmography as diverse and beguiling as his, he will always come pretty damn close to perfect.
In my next posts I will be reviewing The Imitation Game (which I watched yesterday), discussing Richard Linklater's 'Before...' Trilogy, gifting you with my 'Seven Best Openings to a Motion Picture' and writing up the 'Seven Best Films of 2014' and the 'Seven Worst Films of 2014'. Maybe that'll start a discussion...
