The Good Lie Review

‘If you want to go fast, go alone. If you want to go far, go together.’ This African proverb surfaces as the final frame of The Good Lie, directed by Phillipe Falardeau, fades. It is a saying that can transcend through all walks of life, yet it is most poignant in this film, as it encapsulates a walk for life.

We follow a band of young Sudanese refugees, who trek from their homeland towards Kenya, across stretches of mostly dry terrain, in search of asylum. These are fictional characters embedded into a factual crisis. In 1983, political unrest fomented a Second Civil War in Sudan. The spine of the nation was ruptured, and this resulted in a long and violent conflict that saw many people perish, around two million. Amidst this horror, we observe a diminished tribe who trudge onwards to survive, a hope that preserves, despite numbers being clipped by rebel militia and incessant sickness.

Thirteen years after their arrival in the Kakuma refugee camp in Kenya, the four who evaded capture, disease and starvation, Mamere (Arnold Oceng), Jeremiah (Ger Duany), Paul (Emmanuel Jal) and Abital (Kuoth Wiel), are granted a passport to the United States. However, as they fly into the Land of Liberty, the three men are forced into an emotional farewell, as they are separated from their ‘sister’, Abital.

The three ‘brothers’ are then homed in Kansas City, Missouri, which is when Employment Agent, Carrie Davis (Reese Witherspoon), carrying an air of insouciance, enters their lives. From hereon in, although attempts to adjust are made, the ‘Lost Boys of Sudan’ find themselves in maintaining their own culture and values on foreign soil.

The first third of The Good Lie is terrific. South Africa doubles for Sudan and its expansive aestheticism is strikingly realised through the lens. The irony of the landscape’s beauty is that it plays host to brutality, terror and threat, always suggested and never explicit. The African Queen is nodded to early on, with the militia take-over of the Sudanese village, reminiscent of the German infiltration of the mission village in John Huston’s seminal classic. A sequence involving dead bodies floating in a stream, along with a Nyatiti, a Kenyan instrument traditionally played at funerals, is the most harrowing. The opening half hour is gripping and taut in its exhibition of innocence ambushed by chaos.

The trouble is as soon as Mamere and friends arrive in America, the grip slackens. Of course it is interesting to see their adaptation to a First World country, and the humour derived from such experiences as their reaction to McDonald’s. It is also wonderful to see Jeremiah’s alienation towards food wastage, a concept we can all agree with. Witherspoon’s Carrie and the underused Corey Stoll as Jack, too play a vital part in developing an understanding of the social milieu of the three former children of war. There is just a slight tonal imbalance that provokes certain parts of the American section to stumble. Having said this, at least the film drives in a natural direction, avoiding potholes of mawkish sentimentality.

The Good Lie is an authentic account, propelled by three appealing male leads, two of whom, Ger Duany and Emmanuel Jal, were born into the infliction of the Sudanese Civil War. It is a heart-warming tale of a terrible crisis, translated into a good film that loses its stride in periods, but regains its pace soon after. Well worth a cinema ticket.

Force Majeure Review

A film with chills and thrills accompanied by a fresh air of humour 

Force Majeure: a term designated to someone who, due to unforeseeable circumstances, is unable to fulfil a contract. It can also be defined as an irresistible compulsion or from its translation, a superior strength.

All of these interpretations are intrinsic to this fascinating, yet rather unnerving drama/comedy from Swedish director Ruben Östlund, which focuses on a family holidaying in the French Alps. On the surface, they exude a conventional and relatable dynamic; however, the frost soon bites when an avalanche disrupts their vacation, inciting pain and suffering, without actually hitting anybody.

The family of four consists of lead characters, Tomas (Johannes Kuhnke) and Ebba (Lisa Loven Kongsli), as well as their two young children, Harry and Vera, whose roles primarily involve inhabiting the habitual child-on-a-holiday stereotype; wake-up, complain, brief excitement quelled by ennui, complain louder, go to bed. From the outset, intrusive, lingering camera shots, as well as the recurring explosion of Vivaldi’s Summer Concerto, appear to presage an impending incident. This, of course, transpires to be the avalanche. Tomas, Ebba and their offspring witness this natural occurrence from a restaurant terrace, yet as the initially ‘controlled’ deluge of snow rages towards them, a moment of impulse drives Tomas away from his loved ones. This establishes the film’s conflict and unstitches domestic wounds that proceed to bleed uncontrollably.

The motive of Force Majeure is to trip up a husband a wife on a ski trip, yet more acutely it is to expose the minutiae of psychological issues buzzing in and around a partnership, skewed by Tomas’s irresistible compulsion. Neither Tomas nor Ebba can agree on the former’s reaction to the avalanche, thus their marriage is affected by this, triggering alterations and altercations in their interpersonal behaviour. Sounds serious? I assure you, Force Majeure is a tour-de-force with flashes of farce. Awkward, cringe-worthy comedy defrosts the tension, an example being a twenty-something party-goer informing Tomas that her friend thinks he is the best looking man in sight, then reappearing moments later to update him that she got him confused with someone else. This is where Östlund’s film strides towards its peak. It is at its most comfortable in its uncomfortable stages.

Force Majeure did wonders domestically, clearing up at the Swedish Oscars (the Guldbagge Awards), and it has been embraced by critics and audiences alike. It is an invasively observed tale that pries into a marriage and gleefully deconstructs a man’s masculinity. We are essentially the nosy neighbours to this.

The Seven Best Films NEVER Made

We can't be too selfish, there are many, many, many masterpieces that have made it to the silver screen. Here are a few that haven't.

7: Ronnie Rocket. Directed by David Lynch. 

Even David Lynch, the creative oddity of the cinematic odyssey, must have thought the plot to Ronnie Rocket was a little "out there". The story goes... a detective attempts to enter a second dimension, sanctioned by his ability to stand on one leg, whilst being pursued by the electricity wielding 'Donut Men'. Yes... Take that in. Yet, Lynch's most bonkers concept of all might very well have been his best had it conceptualised. Alas, the opportunity never has materialized for Lynch to tie himself to Ronnie Rocket, and probably never will. If you want to view it as a script, then click here. Fun fact: Around the time David Lynch wanted to make Ronnie Rocket, circa 1981, he was also considered, and later asked to direct The Return of the Jedi. This, though, was a galaxy too far away.

6: Gershwin. Directed by Martin Scorsese.

With a script by Paul 'Taxi Driver' Schrader, this biopic was ready to zip into production right after the last bell rang for Raging Bull. The film was to be a container of elaborate sequences of Gershwin's works, intersected by the man himself discussing his life with a psychiatrist. Scorsese shelved the project, due to complications with rights, as well as a doubt that the film would rouse much interest from audiences. As for who would have played the eponymous character, I think it be obvious who the famed director had in mind. Mr Gershwin has more than a passing resemblance to Mr De Niro.

5: In Search of Lost Time (À la recherche du temps perdu). Directed by Luchino Visconti.

This epic novel of seven volumes, written by one of the stalwarts of twentieth century French literature, Marcel Proust, was, for a period of time in 1969, courted by the magisterial cinema, opera and theatre director Luchino Visconti, when he commissioned a screenplay adaptation by Suso Cecchi d'Amico. In Search of Lost Time is thematically routed to involuntary memory, thus the prose flies and dives in many time periods. The most exciting thought of this potential picture was Visconti's eye for actors. Dustin Hoffman, Marlon Brando, Lawrence Olivier, Alain Delon and Silvana Mangano were all touted. The project however, was too ambitious for studios to back. Visconti had proven credentials to throw a lasso around an opus and bring it down to earth. This particular masterpiece though, never quite found its footing.

4: Batman: Year One. Directed by Darren Aranofsky.

Batman and Robin bombed with everyone, so Warner Bros. went with a new tact post-millennium. They decided to explore a darker Batman, one that is transported away from the tone of the original comic-books, and plunged into the depths of gritty realism. Frank Miller's realism to be precise, as the studio was vehement that his version was to be adapted for the big screen. Darren Aranofsky, woken up after Requiem for a Dream, was the chosen one, however, as he and Miller began to wonder away from the original Batman story ark, Warner Bros. began to realise the risks in their bright idea. They decided to shelve this particular incarnation, though they would later go on to signal Christopher Nolan, whose enforcement of a grittier milieu to Gotham begs the question why Warner Bros. lost faith in Aranofsky a few years earlier. Perhaps the Black Swan director wanted to dance too far into darkness, once claiming to an interviewer that he imagined Gordon as a 'Serpico like character' and Bruce Wayne as a 'Travis Bickle type'. If this had transpired, one wonders how scarred The Joker would have been had he turned up in Aranofsky's vision...

3: The Moviegoer. Directed by Terrence Malick.

Terrence Malick has always been a part-time director and a full-time visionary. He dreamt of The Moviegoer going to the silver screen in the mid-to-late 80's and early 90's. He even got as far as casting; Tim Robbins and Julia Roberts were to play the leads, Robbins coming out of another film related movie, Robert Altman's The Player. Yet, time trickled by, and Malick had other commitments to The Thin Red Line, and when it came to 2005, when Malick had completed post-production on The New World, Hurricane Katrina decimated New Orleans, a fixture of Walker Percy's book. Malick was quoted as saying in a rare public appearance, after this natural disaster, that 'I don't think the New Orleans of the book exists anymore'. This is a great shame, as one of the outstanding works of twentieth century American literature that has not been adapted for cinema, will never be made by one of the expert auteurs of our time.

2: The Blind Man. Directed by Alfred Hitchcock.

To me the most interesting of all of the lost Hitchcock projects, The Blind Man never saw the light of day. Why? Blame Walt. This Hitchcock picture was supposed to be guided into production right after Psycho, a slasher Disney was repulsed by. The Blind Man required access to Disneyland for one of its climactic sequences, and, due to his disdain for Psycho, Disney refused. Hitchcock and Disney had previous together, with a cartoon sequence of Walt's appearing in Hitch's 1936 film Sabotage. Though, Psycho cut through these ties between both men. The film was to star James Stewart, who was still recovering from Vertigo, the film not the fear, which flopped upon release. It would follow a blind pianist who regains his sight after accruing new eyes from a murder victim, via a transplant. Presumably he would go on to have flashbacks of what the eyes saw prior to vacating their rather unfortunate former owner. Hitchcock bathed in the pleasure of suspense, and this had that written all over it.

1: Heart of Darkness. Directed by Orson Welles.

The man behind the "greatest film ever made" is also behind the greatest film never made. Welles version of Heart of Darkness dissected the European political underbelly of the 1930's, exploiting the adaptability of Conrad's novella. His screenplay was anti-fascist, and Hollywood studios were hesitant to accept such a story with a subtext that reeked of political aggression, especially in 1939. In addition to this, Welles took too long on an exceedingly long screenplay (183 pages) and the film was predicted to overhaul a $1 million budget. Nonetheless, the most radical notion of Welles was to utilise a first-person camera for the entirety of the picture, a feat that had not been established before. Orson Welles tome-like adaptation ended up in the tomb, which would lead him onto a biopic of a wealthy newspaperman. Citizen Kane was revolutionary in its camera composition, yet if Heart of Darkness had come to light, would it have caused a greater wave in the education of future film-makers? Robert Montgomery attempted the first-person camera technique with Lady in the Lake in 1947, and that shoot was a misfire. Welles wizardry is incomparable however, so we can do nothing but guess the density of Heart of Darkness's potential impact. Still, at least we have Apocalypse Now, which rumbled along the Mekong river, stretching out Conrad's prose, with Francis Ford Coppola proving to be a worthy replacement of Orson Welles. 

The Seven Best Tom Cruise Films

Since skidding down the hallway in an undies/buttoned shirt combo, Tom Cruise has thrilled film audiences around the world. Well not so much with Far and Away. Or Vanilla Sky. Or Jack Reacher. Yet for the most part, the man shifts into cruise control for the duration of any feature he appears in. Here are my Seven Best Tom Cruise Films:

7: Cocktail (1988). Directed by Roger Donaldson. Other Than Tom: Elisabeth Shue, Bryan Brown and Kelly Lynch.
Here me out. There are plenty of silly cocktails; salty chihuahua, flaming giraffe, as well as this particular blend from 1988. Though as ridiculous as Cocktail is, I cannot help but drink it all up. As Brian Flanagan, our headline act crackles in down town New York, flexing his bar-tending skills with his neither prim nor proper mentor Doug Coughlin (Brown), before jaunting off to Jamaica, where his womanising ways are challenged by his affections for beach holidayer, Jordan Mooney (Shue). Cocktail is not critically acclaimed, and if one took it seriously, well then this would taste worse than a dirty pint. The drunken pacing of the narrative is notable, and Coughlin's suicide being thrown into the mixer just so that Flanagan can fine-tune his morals is an abrupt absurdity. Still, this is substantial entertainment.





6: Mission: Impossible III (2006). Directed by JJ Abrams. Other Than Tom: Philip Seymour-Hoffman, Michelle Monaghan and Simon Pegg.
Another film that was a misfire with some critics, and I for one cannot understand why. It is, without question, the best of the series. The tone of the film feels much darker than previous outings, more personal, with a sense that Ethan Hunt could lose everything. Philip Seymour Hoffman's villain may speak in monotone, though he definitely does not suffer from ennui. His intonation makes him all the more dangerous, his lack of emotional capacity harbouring a threat that no life matters to him. The opening scene fires an arrow at Hunt's 'Achilles heel' and that wound is exposed for the entirety of the film. I rate Mission: Impossible III higher than most. It has its faults yes, Monaghan's wife to Cruise's Hunt is rather dull, as well as the Vatican sequence boasting moments of bathos. Yet the thrills spill. This Mission is virtually impossible to supersede as the most exhilarating.



5: Collateral (2004). Directed by Michael Mann. Other Than Tom: Jamie Foxx, Jada Pinkett Smith and Mark Ruffalo.
Clearly Michael Mann has done no better since The Collateral, and I want to say neither has Tom Cruise. Although The Edge of Tomorrow has superb set-pieces and an adrenaline pumped script, as well as Tropic Thunder providing him with a grotesquely hilarious, hot-headed, vocabulary-of-fucks movie producer, The Collateral is Cruise's last great movie. Jamie Foxx earned an Oscar nomination for Supporting Actor as Max, the taxi-driver (the same year he won Best Actor for Ray), but Cruise is just as enthralling to watch as Vincent, the hit-man. His calm and collective persona remains steady, soldiering through the choppy waters of killing his marks, hoarding a body in the trunk of the taxi, and the growing anxiety of his driver, Max. Vincent puts the captiv(e) in captivating, but this film is driven by two terrific performances, and Foxx perhaps has more depth to dive into with his portrayal. Still, Cruise is not afraid of going to the dark side, which is where he goes best.



4: Jerry Maguire (1996). Directed by Cameron Crowe. Other Than Tom: Cuba Gooding Jr, Renee Zellweger and Kelly Preston.

Oh Jerry Maguire. Such an easy film to watch. Laden with comedy, drama and sweet sentimentality. No wonder Tom Hanks was Crowe's first choice for the role. Though, Hanks concedes that the film would not work had the other Tom not been sports agent, Jerry Maguire. Cruise is fantastic in this role, deserving of his Oscar nomination for Best Actor. He journeys on the same trajectory he rode in Rain Man eight years earlier, transitioning from cocksure and arrogant into empathetic and loving. With hyped up support from Cuba Gooding Jr, who received the Supporting Actor Academy Award in 1997, 'show me the money' became the quote of the late 90's. With other memorable lines like 'you had me at hello', which Jerry throws at Dorothy Boyd (Zellweger), not Cuba Gooding's wide receiver Rod Tidwell, Jerry is a character that everyone should love, existing in a film that everyone should watch.




3: Top Gun (1986). Directed by Tony Scott. Other Than Tom: Kelly McGillis, Val Kilmer and Anthony Edwards.

"Highway to the danger zone". That's what Top Gun is, as Kenny Loggins explains in the lyrics of his hit song from the movie. Tom Cruise is effortlessly charismatic as Pete "Maverick" Mitchell, opposite a strong-minded and sizzling Kelly McGillis, who plays Charlie Blackwood. Again, like with most Cruise classics, it is eminently quotable, with one such line 'I feel the need... the need for speed' edging into the American Film Institute's Top 100 Movie Quotes (#94). Top Gun itself is fuelled by its 'need for speed', thundering along with excitement, expletives (mostly the 's' word) and exclamation. Again, with Cruise, he probably did more critically acclaimed fare, Born on the Fourth Of July comes to mind. However, Top Gun is more memorable, and it is the film that cemented Cruise (along with his pearly whites) as iconic. A critical eye will notice the film's dissolution from promising story into shiny, scintillating scenes that compete with each other, trying to appear as the most appealing. But who cares. Narrative aside, Top Gun is a blistering spectacle.


2: Rain Man (1988). Directed by: Barry Levinson. Other Than Tom: Dustin Hoffman, Valeria Golino and Bonnie Hunt.

Dustin Hoffman won the Academy Award for Best Actor in 1989 for his deeply felt and wholly authentic portrayal of Raymond Babbitt, an autistic savant. In the subsequent years, critics, when discussing Rain Man, have always been quick to shine as brighter light on Tom Cruise's performance as they do on Hoffman's. Cruise is truly exceptional as the egotistical younger brother to Raymond, who has just become aware of his older brother's existence. This is due to Charlie learning that, after his estranged father's death, the bulk of his $3 million estate has gone to an unnamed trustee, which illuminates to Charlie that he has an unknown relative. The conversion from how Cruise, as Charlie, treats Ray in their first few days together, to how he minds Ray's fugue state in the film's most dramatic sequence is so very poignant. To see Cruise 'act' the deflation of an immeasurable hubris, to see him thaw empathy out of his original frosty self is miraculous. The film itself: a fine example of the effects of mental illness.


1: Magnolia (1999). Directed by: Paul Thomas Anderson. Other Than Tom: Julianne Moore, Jason Robards and Philip Seymour-Hoffman.

The nucleus of Magnolia's magnificence is a sensational script, where PTA expertly constructs and connects a character road map of coincidence. We see an array of disturbed people episodically interlinked with each other, and how their lives eventually bridge together. The end of Magnolia sprouts questions of life that stretch beyond the ambit of this one film, the predominant query, is the impossible possible? Magnolia itself has had pages of essays dedicated to it, so instead, let's talk about the eponymous hero of our blog post. Tom Cruise, as Frank T.J Mackie, gives, for me, one of the greatest performances of the 90's. Here I am killing two birds with one stone, because this is not just Cruise's best film, it is his best role. As sadistic sex 'god' T.J Mackie, he steals every scene he inhabits. Magnolia is a masterpiece. It is not a "Tom Cruise" movie. It is an ensemble piece. Yet Cruise stands out with the biggest... character. A supporting turn that lingers in the mind longer than any lead role he ever had. His very best. 

And The Oscar Goes To...

The 87th Academy Awards take place on Sunday, and will be hosted by Neil Patrick Harris at the Dolby Theatre in Hollywood. I have compiled a list of who I think will receive the Academy Awards on Sunday evening. All of the nominees can be found here: Oscar Nominees.  

Best Picture: Boyhood

For all the cynics who claim Boyhood has been the mainstay of this award season purely for its 'twelve years in the making' tag either have not watched the film or, if they have seen it, have not engaged enough with it. This soulful journey from childhood to the cusp of adulthood exemplifies the ordinary as extraordinary, and is utterly beguiling throughout. If not Boyhood, I would much prefer either The Grand Budapest Hotel or Whiplash be given this accolade, rather than the overwrought Birdman, which is a more probable contender to foist the award away from Boyhood.

Directing: Alejandro González Iñárritu for Birdman

The most flashy direction, and therefore the frontrunner for Director has to be Iñárritu for Birdman. He has just won the Director's Guild Award and, one would think that this category is his to lose. There is a chance Richard Linklater could take this. Alejandro González Iñárritu probably will.

Actor in a Leading Role: Eddie Redmayne for The Theory of Everything

Michael Keaton is still the odds-on-favourite for Birdman, but I feel Eddie Redmayne will receive Actor in a Leading Role. His performance of Stephen Hawking is a deteriorating transformation, amplified through the minutiae of mannerisms, mood and movement. Most affecting and meticulously handled; for sheer loyalty to the demands of this role, Redmayne deserves this.

Actress in a Leading Role: Julianne Moore for Still Alice

Julianne Moore deserves an Oscar. That much is obvious. For Still Alice, a film about how the titular character copes with being diagnosed with onset alzheimers at the age of 50, Moore relaxes into an unnerving state, conveying the frustrations and tribulations of the illness, whilst attempting to be a mother, a wife and a teacher. As Alice's memories fade into the abysses of her psyche, the result of Moore's complete performance devastates.

Actor in a Supporting Role: JK Simmons for Whiplash

Like Javier Bardem for No Country For Old Men. Like Heath Ledger for The Dark Knight. Like Christoph Waltz for Inglorious Basterds. A shockingly memorable, nefarious antagonist, performed with a mixture of glee and horror, warrants an Oscar. JK Simmons, as Terrence Fletcher, will win this award.

Actress in a Supporting Role: Patricia Arquette for Boyhood

For her own nuanced expedition throughout the twelve years of Boyhood as the mother of Mason Jr and Samantha, Patricia Arquette will be accepting an Oscar this Sunday.

Adapted Screenplay: Whiplash by Damien Chazelle

The probability lies with either Graham Moore for The Imitation Game or Anthony McCarten for The Theory of Everything, though I would love for Damien Chazelle to take this. His script is so raw and original (ironic, seeing as though it is up for adapted screenplay, due to Chazelle adapting Whiplash from a previous short he made). A surprise could be in order, and it could happen here.

Original Screenplay: The Grand Budapest Hotel by Wes Anderson

A dead cert for me. The Grand Budapest Hotel was Wes Anderson at his eccentric best. A stylised, Anderson-personified, cracking script brimming with crackling dialogue. 

Animated Feature Film: Big Hero 6

A tough one to call, as the real winner did not qualify (The Lego Movie was shunned by the Academy). Big Hero 6 and How to Train Your Dragon 2 were both entertaining, but the original concept and sentimentality of the superhero story might see it soar come Oscar night. It is worth mentioning Song of the Sea also, and its gloomy, pastel animated background. This contrasts gloriously with the lighter digital animation of the foreground characters and continually evokes the tragedy of the story. In other words, Song of the Sea has plenty of potential in this category. 

Foreign Language Film: Ida

Ida was beautifully shot (it might have an outside chance of taking cinematography away from Birdman), with an absorbing story, tactful direction and honest performances. Either Leviathan and Wild Tales could claim victory here, though I feel Ida will be crowned the Foreign Language Film of the year. 

Cinematography: Birdman

Costume Design: Into The Woods

Documentary Feature: CitizenFour

Documentary Short Subject: Our Curse

Film Editing: American Sniper

Make-Up and Hair Styling: Guardians of the Galaxy

Music Original Score: The Theory of Everything

Music Original Song: "Glory" from Selma

Production Design: The Grand Budapest Hotel

Short Film Animated: A Single Life

Short Film Live Action: Parvaneh 

Sound Editing: American Sniper

Sound Mixing: Whiplash 

Visual Effects: Interstellar

More articles will be coming soon, including the Seven Best Tom Cruise Films and a commentary on film critics. Enjoy the Oscars folks!

Mini Movie Memo (and then an afterthought...)

Be wary of billionaire heirs 

I have a great reverence for sport movies that focus away from their sport. Of course, Foxcatcher has wrestling in it, but it isn't defined by it. Instead, erupting from the core and spreading to the peripherals, themes of greed verses resentment and power grappling with vulnerability showcase the darkness of this picture. Predominantly, these thematic roots grow on Foxcatcher Farm, and it is this setting, reminiscent of the Bates Motel from Psycho, where the bulk of underlying madness unfurls and exhibits itself. The story follows two Olympic wrestlers and winners of gold meddles, Mark and David Schultz, who become beneficiaries of billionaire heir, John Du Pont, where he allows them to use his farm to train for the next Olympics, and to house a state-of-the-art gym, in return for Du Pont to act as the Head Coach of the USA wrestling team. Things are not all as they seem though, as the character of John, a socially awkward ermine like creature, becomes enveloped my an insane power that inflicts tragedy upon the Schultz brothers and their family. Everything about Foxcatcher is bleakly captivating, from purposefully awkward dialogue to cold, trenchant direction from Bennett Miller who has just been nominated for the Academy Award for Best Director. One of his prior films, Capote contained an intrinsic theme of isolation in oneself, which is prevalent to Foxcatcher, and is handled as gracefully as it is bluntly by the helmer. The source of this film's power though exists within the acting. Steve Carell, ripping off his habitual comedy label, performs a chillingly authentic portrayal as John Du Pont, where slowness and restraint are key to exemplify insanity. He is up for Best Actor at the Oscars. Mark Ruffalo is terrific and sincere as David Schultz. He is up for Best Supporting Actor at the Oscars. And then there is Channing Tatum, as David's younger brother Mark Schultz. He is not up for an Oscar, yet for me, this is his film. He is brutally honest and dives into deep cavities of emotions whilst being, for the most part, reticent in allowing them to boil over. The Academy's choosing of backing Carell and Ruffalo is just, as they are both brilliant, though Tatum should be celebrating with them. It is comparable with The Fighter three years ago when Mark Wahlberg was snubbed and Christian Bale and Melissa Leo won the plaudits. No matter. It is right that people remember performances, not awards, and that is why Tatum's show as Mark Schultz here won't be forgotten. People will be exhilerated by Foxcatcher; a stark, dark tapestry of tragedy that demands your attention.

Beyond Clueless: Charlie Lyne's Enduring High School Crush on the Teen Movie Genre

The Cube in Bristol, a tuck-away microplex located in Stokes Croft, played host to a screening of the crowd-funded documentary Beyond Clueless last Friday. I went along to attend the showing, which was followed up with a Q&A with director Charlie Lyne.

Beyond Clueless focusses on teen movies of the 1995-2004 period, starting with Clueless and graduating with Mean Girls. The doc is written up as a film essay, analysing the conventions, paradigms and themes of the teen movie clique, but most imperatively, it illustrates Lyne's enduring high school crush on said genre. Talking heads are exempt from this homage, with a more unorthodox knitting together of scenes, which manufactures into a layered quilt of clips from 250 or so movies. Fairuza Balk, star of The Craft, the subject of the prologue, narrates us through Lyne's script. She conveys through her bewitching tone that the mid-to-late 90's and early-to-mid 2000's engineered a, albeit cliché heavy, teen movie rebellion. Everything on show, from conformity to control to cold-blooded murder, is theorized and scrutinized by Lyne. However, when clips from critically panned movies such as The Rage: Carrie 2 and Josie and The Pussycats turn up to class, it does become difficult to be a constantly earnest student of Lyne's analysis. Having said this, many of his points are both interesting and valid, including his comments on the shifting plates of social hierarchy, present in She's All That and Slap Her, She's French, as well as his observation of the pitfalls of strict parental repression, encapsulated by Bubble Boy. Lyne's expose is nowhere near as tenuous as some of the movies he is exposing, and in being open-minded, I found myself conforming to many of his thoughtfully researched suggestions.

Let us briefly cease the analytical chewing and mark presentation. A dizzying, spell-binding soundtrack by pop duo Summer Camp clicks instantaneously with the subject matter, and powerfully accelerates the film's running time around the track. Doodles drawn by Hattie Stewart act as a whimsical aesthetic, covering Beyond Clueless in graffiti throughout and gratifying Lyne's own teenage nostalgia. Fairuza Baulk narrates with conviction, although once or twice an uncertain intonation creeps in, like when describing Euro Trip's homoerotic subtext, as if she is unsure of its own credibility. Reverting back to the director, his amalgamation of teen movie tragedy with teen movie comedy is very insightful, as it shows us the similarities in imposed character traits. For instance, Elephant, set in the day of a high school shooting, and concentrically a severe rebuke of the lackadaisical gun laws in America, involves body conscious teens, nerds and jocks. This same layout of characters exist in American Pie and 10 Things I Hate About You. This may well be Lyne's criticism of the pseudo-reality structure of these films, which procreates stereotypes from preceding teen movie incarnations. Or then again perhaps it's not a criticism. You see, this is no burn book. Lyne is clearly enamoured with the genre, being respectful of the good and the bad of it, and being mindful of the fact that the good is most definitely outweighed by the bad. He is glorifying a lot of terrible teen movies, and I like so totally don't care.

The Q&A was a revelation. Charlie Lyne, a charming and witty cinephile, is a likeable film critic. They are sparse in number, and it was refreshing to see someone who has reviewed for the BBC Film Programme and his very own Ultra Culture, to swim across the channel to the risky world of film-making, which saw him kick-start his crowd funding campaign on Kickstarter. He was self-deprecating; on answering a question about why he made the movie, 'nostalgia mostly, and also I wasn't the type to go out in my teenage years to get pissed, I lived my social life vicariously at home watching old VHS tapes.' A confession that he was proud of, and that he should be. In addition, his getting hold of Fairuza Balk was a brilliant anecdote, 'Fairuza was top of our list. She owns her own candle company now, and the only way I could contact her was through the complaints section. Luckily she replied three minutes later and was excited by the pitch that I gave her, and she ended up coming aboard.' A very nifty way of getting hold of a narrator. The complaints department. The most intriguing answer came from the question, 'why the unconventional method without talking heads?' Lyne responded with enthusiasm, 'it's a love-letter to the genre, embracing the mad, overwrought aesthetic of that world'. This to me made a lot of sense after watching Lyne's film, as at its nucleus, Beyond Clueless is a celebration of the good, the bad and the ugly of the teen movie from 1995 to 2004. Plus, talking heads could disparage his beloved genre. And he wouldn't want that now would he.

There are a few, casual moments where it needs to tuck its shirt in, yet overall, Beyond Clueless wears its uniform well.

Beyond Clueless is released Friday 23^rd January