Song of the Sea Film Review

Home is where the art is in this brushstroke of genius. Tomm Moore, who previously directed the similarly themed and under seen ‘The Secret of Kells’, co-writes and helms ‘Song of the Sea’, an absorbing fantasy film with adroitly designed animation from Moore and artistic director, Adrien Merigeau.

Drenched in Irish folklore, the film follows Ben and his younger sister Saoirse. She is the last selkie, a creature who has the ability to live on land as a human and live in the sea as a seal. The two siblings, who have been relocated from their lighthouse-by-the-sea to the murky depths of a city to reside with their grandmother, decide to journey back to their true home. Ben, who resents Saoirse, (her birth resulted in the loss of their mother), soon learns of her propensity to transform into her other self, and in this newly found knowledge, he must work to save his little sister from the clutches of Macha the owl witch and her myriad of minions (owls if you hadn’t guessed).

There is of course so much more to this film than the aforementioned synopsis, not solely in story, although it is worth mentioning Cú, the spectacularly loyal sheepdog, and the kindly gruff Brenden Gleeson as kindly gruff Conor, father to Ben and Saoirse, forever plaintive over the loss of his wife. ‘Song of the Sea’ though, is also rich in visuals and vividly creative. It’s a painting set in motion, a riveting reverie of fantasy combined with the simple reality of suffering. The film is varnished in sentiment, and this is to its credit, as the audience is enraptured by this as much as we are by the pastel coloured images on display. The recurring symbol of circles can be seen throughout, perhaps evoking the spiritual energy that the song of the sea provokes. Also, particularly in Celtic culture, circles were drawn as protective boundaries, which is likely the main reason they feature so dominantly. After all, one of the themes of ‘Song of the Sea’ is unity, it is ingrained in the inner workings of the piece, and the circular symbol of protection embodies such unity, such togetherness. 

Moore, along with his adept crew, embellished his original idea by painting on it a distinct creative style, one that has no obvious counterpart. It has flecks of Sylvain Chomet’s ‘The Illusionist’, but that is about it. In tone of course, it reminded me of some of the Studio Ghibli classics such as ‘Grave of the Fireflies’ and ‘Spirited Away’. On this record, I believe Moore can be a luminary for future storytellers of fantasy film, both in and out of the animation department.

‘Song of the Sea’ was nominated for Best Animation at the 2015 Academy Awards, losing out to ‘Big Hero 6’. For me, it should have swept away that board, as, after seeing it this week, ‘Song of the Sea’ can surely be justified as one of the most inventive and stunningly realised animations of the past decade.

Slow West Review

Slow West rides as a slow western. One might view this as a criticism, but I see it as the strongest asset to a gorgeously ominous tale of relationships, revenge and retribution. This expedition is expeditious in its eighty-four minute duration, yet writer/director John Maclean does not crack the whip on character development, instead he takes his time with his pair of protagonists, who wonder on and off horseback to the old west. One, Jay (Kodi Smit-McPhee), is a debutant to this territory, the other, Silas (Michael Fassbender), is a denizen, but also an immigrant. Jay has migrated from Scotland to Colorado in search of the girl he loves, Rose (Caren Pistorius), who has fled her homeland with her father, due to an incident instigated by Jay’s unrequited affections for her. Silas attaches himself to Jay, and demands money in return for keeping Jay safe on his journey. Silas though, soon has other intentions; for a bounty lies on the lives of Rose and her father, one that Jay is oblivious to.

The western genre has near enough become obsolete in this generation of cinema; it was a fixture of film from the 30’s to the 60’s in particular, a paradigm of stand-offs were regular dénouements. This is not to say that it has been completely lost, over the past year we have seen Hillary Swank in the good-but-not-great ‘The Homesman’, and Mads Mikkelsen in the rather exciting ‘The Salvation’. However, if this was, say 1955, a western would arrive every other week. Films like Slow West offer the possibility of resurgence in a once crowded genre.

Maclean recalls the ambience of Sergio Garrone’s ‘Django the Bastard’ in his oneiric sequences, and, with the assistance of Irish cinematographer Robbie Ryan, beautifully frames a vast landscape, which reminisces Winton Hoch’s own work on ‘The Searchers’ and, of course, Terrence Malick. Maclean’s main focus though is his characters, sweat, blood and tears are extensively realised both in his own dialogue, ‘love is universal – like death’, and the defined features of each performer. Smit-McPhee plays love and heartbreak with assurance and wears his feelings for all to see. Fassbender’s greatness is in his grit, controlled anger and quiet intensity, like a cross-breed of Charles Bronson and Clint Eastwood. His grandeur is in his minimalist style, the smallest of traits, and the renegade Silas facilitates these qualities. Ben Mendelsohn as Payne, also after the bounty along with his gang, menaces most in moments of perceived geniality. His affability when bumping into Jay and Silas is of course a façade, which gleefully forebodes the climactic shoot out. Pistorius enchants as Rose in her equanimity, she is perhaps too strong-willed for young Jay. New Zealand too acts as a stunning backdrop for 1870’s Colorado.

Slow West is a highly original, melodic composition. Yet, its influences by great films and great directors are palpable, and it will hopefully influence others to find the old west on the map, and start shooting.