Released this week in a newly re-mastered special edition is Gillo Pontecorvo's The Battle of Algiers.
Set during the Algerian War of the late 1950s and early 1960s, The Battle of Algiers sees a band of freedom fighters push back against the restrictions imposed by the French military forces that controlled the streets of Algiers. Following the story of Ali La Pointe (Omar Hadjadj) from petty thief to leader of a group of insurgents, it pits him against Colonel Mathieu (Jean Martin) as he attempts to bring the streets under control.
The Battle of Algiers has long been regarded as one of the most important war films of all time. Released in 1966 a mere four years after the conflict came to an end, it won the Golden Lion at the Venice Film Festival that year but due to the controversy surrounding it was not widely released in France until 1971. Adopting what they refer to as a "newsreel" (read, documentary) shooting style to create added realism, what is notable about this film is that although it arguably errs its allegiance to the freedom fighters, it offers unglamorous viewpoints of both sides of the war in all its ghastly detail.
Hounded by the military and forced to live in wall spaces in the casbah, the FLN (National Liberation Front) are seen to use women and children to help fight their cause, often during the numerous and shocking assassination scenes that see soldiers killed by calculated and unexpected methods. Another notable contribution to these scenes is the score provided by Ennio Morricone. It's a vital, urgent piece of music that propels the film towards its dramatic conclusion.
As important a film now as it was 50 years ago, The Battle of Algiers is not just an important document of the impact this war had on the steep, winding streets of the casbah and the propaganda used by the French military to persuade the inhabitants that their way was the only way forward, it is a strikingly timeless film about the power wielded by the oppressed that should be never far from the thoughts of any government contemplating war. Impactful and resonant, this is one to watch.
Verdict
5/5
With its slipcase, booklet, reversible sleeve and two disc blu-ray and DVD combo, it really is an attractive package. What's more, the in depth documentary on the special features shows how this classic war film was painstakingly restored and reconstructed by a lab in Italy. For fans of cinema and those curious about how these 4K restorations are put together, this is a brilliantly revealing look at what it takes.
Released this week to commemorate the 10th anniversary of his death, I Am Heath Ledger uses hours of footage shot by the man himself, as well as interviews with some of his closest friends and family to tell us who he really was.
Produced with the blessing and involvement of his family, I Am Heath Ledger isn't a collection of recycled red carpet footage or ghastly countdown of his last 24 hours, but is in fact a well produced and very heartfelt look at what drove him as an actor and creator. It's perhaps not well known, but Heath Ledger liked to document his life via photographs and homemade videos - sometimes short films, sometimes conversations with friends and sometimes him just doing nothing. That footage is used here and helps paint an intimate portrait of who he really was behind closed doors.
Leaving home at 17 to go travelling around Australia, after finding acting work on television programme Roar, he soon made the leap to the US and stardom. As well as interviews with his family, there's also touching anecdotes from stars like Naomi Watts and Ben Mendelsohn telling stories about how after he found fame, Heath's home became a halfway house for numerous up and coming actors trying to replicate his success in LA. He was a generous spirit who didn't care for the pomposity of the Hollywood scene, and so he kept his old friends around him at all times and shared his good fortune.
It's apparent that with his leading man looks and debut role in a successful teen movie that Ledger was underestimated as an actor for far too long. This film is not a dissection of his entire career (his work in Australia is barely mentioned), however Heath Ledger is still an interesting case study of how to become a respected actor with career longevity by choosing projects carefully and opting to work with people you admire and respect. His agent recalls the time Heath was being talked about for the role of Peter Parker/Spider-Man, something he was quick to dismiss as something he knew he was not right for and what wasn't right for him. Instead he worked with talented directors like Ang Lee, one of the many voices here who praise his devotion to his work.
Among the revelations from the film is his interest/bordering on obsession with artists such as Nick Drake, Janis Joplin and Kurt Cobain, all of whom died before their 30th birthday. The film does briefly ask questions about the manner of Ledger's death, but it isn't concerned with trying to find answers or indulge speculation.
Perhaps the most enjoyable element of this film is the use of his homemade footage and recordings. It's a revealing and ever expanding diary of footage that strips away any sense of Hollywood glamour or ego and shows a young man dealing with his celebrity status by finding the ridiculousness in his life. It's difficult to speculate where his career might have taken him in the last ten years, but he did seem to want to edge his way behind the camera at any given opportunity. Sure, this footage is rough around the edges and his intentions may have been for it to be for his eyes only, but there's a playfulness on show and even recurring motifs, like his spinning selfie shot that builds into something quite moving by the end of the film.
It could be easy to presume that this documentary, released on the tenth anniversary of his passing, is little more than a shoddily made, cynical cash in; but thankfully that isn't the case. What is most striking about the film is how many of his closest friends and family have come forward to talk about their admiration for him as an artist and as a man (the only real key voice missing is Michelle Williams, and her absence is understandable), and how it is able to tap into real emotion when using his self made footage to show us a side of him not always visible in his films. Extremely touching and at time heartbreaking, I Am Heath Ledger manages to avoid over-sentimentality to be a true celebration of who he was.
Verdict
4/5
Extra features include more stories from family and friends and a trailer.
Now in cinemas and soon to be released via the Mubi streaming platform, Lover for a Day is the latest film by Philippe Garrel about a young woman’s love affair with her college tutor and the friendship she forms with his daughter of the same age. Philippe Garrel's daughter Esther, recently seen in Call Me By Your Name, stars as heartbroken young woman Jeanne, moving back home to live with her father and his young lover after breaking up with her boyfriend. Her father's girlfriend, Ariane (Louise Chevilotte), is a woman confident about her sexuality and aware of the power she has to manipulate men into doing what she wants, whereas Jeanne is far more openly emotional and comparatively "girlish" in her behaviour. Through their friendship they explore their differing stories and approaches to love and heartbreak. As Ariane says to Esther upon their first meeting, "you'll get over it. We always do".
It may be set in present day, but this could have been made at any point in the last 50 years. Shot in black and white and with an adoring love of the hum of busy Parisian streets, it's an unashamed French New Wave throwback that confirms to stereotypical French attitudes towards age gap romances, but not to its detriment. Although it is easy to have presumptions about an older teacher pursuing one of his students, Lover for a Day attempts to balance this with Gilles' worries that his younger lover will inevitably make love to someone else. It's an attitude that may come off as somewhat creepy to audiences unfamiliar with this dynamic, although one would suspect that audiences wanting to see a black and white French romantic drama will be accustomed to this very, almost stereotypically, European stance. There are disturbing hints of jealousy, such as Ariane's reaction to Gilles' arriving home from work and giving his daughter a kiss on the cheek before approaching her, and a dramatic confrontation between the three leads that reads as a father telling off his two disobedient daughters. Coupled with the casting of director Garrel's real life daughter Esther, this dysfunctional family set up is something that could be studied in textbooks.
The poster inaccurately sells this film as something sweepingly romantic or possibly erotic, but it is neither of those things. It is an exploration of sexuality and the contrasting differences between girlhood and womanhood in two women of the same age. Lover for a Day packs in a hell of a lot of relationship drama for its zippy 76 minutes running time, but thanks to the compelling performances of its two female leads it remains a bright and breezy offering that's well worth devoting your time to.
Based on Guy de Maupassant's novel and directed by Stephane Brize, A Woman's Life sees Judith Chelma's 19th Century noblewoman Jeanne spending many years dealing with a number of trials and hardships that befall her and her family.
There's a great anecdote that de Maupassant would often eat at the restaurant at the base of the Eiffel Tower, not because he liked it there, but rather because it was the one place in the city where he wouldn't have to look at the imposing structure he so despised. If true, that's an amusing story about a man with a clear sense of humour about life's many hills to climb. Which is why it's a shame that Une Vie (A Woman's Life), although pretty to look at with a fine attention to period detail, is such a dry, humourless affair. It's a bit like finding yourself trapped inside an elegant French armoire; it certainly looks nice, but it soon becomes stuffy and suffocating.
That's not to say there aren't elements of joy on show, but these invariably lead to deeper disappointments, often thanks to the antics of Jeanne's Viscount husband Julien (Swann Artaud). When his adulterous actions begin to have repercussions, the pressure is put on Jeanne to offer forgiveness, rather than on him to change. T here's a troubling, ominous darkness to be read that the literal translation from the original text, A Life, was instead interpreted as the more specific A Woman's Life. Yes, the main character as you would expect in this case is a woman, but there's an almost definitive aspect to it, as if to act as a warning that this is the best women could expect from marriage and motherhood. That perhaps may have been the case for many women in the 19th century, and for the most part the film operates as a traditional period drama that could have been made at any point in the last fifty years (shot in the boxy Academy ratio but with some abrupt editing choices that reveal its modernity), is able to deliver these themes in a way that will speak to a more gender role conscious audience fearful of such trappings.
At its best, A Woman's Life is a misery memoir that wouldn't be out of place alongside British social realism, except with period drama details. Jeanne's life of wealth and privilege should be enviable, but it's a life of love, passion and ultimately disappointment. It is a tale of immense hardship and tough times that the lead character is forced to endure, that only thanks to the performance of Chelma doesn't become too draining an experience.
Augusto (Vladimir Brichta), a down on his luck actor with an occasional career in software pornography just wants to find a steady gig so that he can help provide for his son. Heading into an audition for a daytime soap opera at one of Brazil's largest networks, when he sees the line of clowns headed into a different stage area he decides to try out for that instead. Using his natural charisma to impress the American "gringo" in charge of the show, he then quickly becomes a firm favourite with the young audience. But as the fame of his character starts to go to his head, Augusto begins to indulge in all of the excesses you wouldn't expect from a children's television personality. Except maybe Richard Bacon.
Following the Boogie Nights template closely, Bingo: The King of the Mornings is able to offer a compelling story due to the performance of Vladimir Brichta as Bingo. He's got the portrayal of the sad clown nailed, and as a man driven by his hunger for the fame he isn't allowed to have without wearing face paint, it's in many ways a typical tale of 80s greed.
The 80s setting helps sell that this quite old fashioned show would be a draw for audiences. One nice touch is that the subtitles also look like they are straight from the 80s; like they're providing some VHS tracking info. Based on the true scenario of the transposition of the Bozo the Clown character to Brazil in the early 1980s, if one things smacks of inauthenticity it's that it's hard to believe any parent allowing their child to watch this terrifying show. In a year that has given us Pennywise the Clown in Andy Muschetti's adaptation of IT, even Stephen King's creation would have to doff his cap towards Bingo in the terrifying stakes.
The feature directorial debut of Daniel Rezende, whose most notable work has previously been as editor of such films as City of God, it's undeniable that Bingo is a handsome looking film. The 80s stylings never seem forced or for comic effect, and as Augusto frequents the seedier parts of town to indulge in his reckless lifestyle, it's always shot with style. Bingo: The King of the Mornings, the Brazilian BAFTA contender for Best Film not in the English Language, may use its over-sized clown shoes to tread familiar ground, but it's delivered with style and a disconcertingly sinister smile on its face.
Comprised of 78 shots and 52 cuts, the shower scene in Psycho is one of the most famous moments in cinema history, shocking audiences by killing off its lead character less than half way into the film. Quite easily one of the most studied and discussed moments in cinema history, this new documentary aims to pull back the shower curtain to reveal unknown facts about the film and the process of making that iconic scene.
78/52 is a deep dive down the plughole, with talking head contributions from Bret Easton Ellis, Leigh Whannell, Karyn Kusama, Janet Leigh's body double, Eli Roth, Scott Spiegel, Walter Murch, Guillermo del Toro and Jamie Lee Curtis to name but a few, all who have opinions about Marion Crane's last moments. It's worth questioning how much dissection is necessary or even asked for. Although the approach is more populist that academic, anyone who has ever studied cinema will have studied the films of Alfred Hitchcock, and in particular his most memorable scene. This is film theory presented as fact, and is therefore unlikely to appeal to an audience unfamiliar with Psycho. It may be talking into a bathroom-shaped echo chamber populated by film obsessives, but there's an appealing degree of theorist confirmation to documentaries of this ilk. Adopting a similar format to the Stanley Kubrick/The Shining dissection Room 238 but with far less crazy (or are they?) conspiracy theories, 78/52 is able to offer new readings that may prove educational to some; for example the foreshadowing in the films early scenes where Marion drives with rain lashing down on her windshield with wiper blades slashing across.
It's not just the shot structure and editing that gets put under the microscope. Bernard Hermann's iconic string score come under close scrutiny, as does the foley artistry of the scene. How do you recreate the sound of stabbing? The answer, melons. There is some efforts to put Psycho within the context of Hitchcock's other films of the era, but mostly to point out how much it stands alone in his filmography. Shot in black and white on a small budget with the crew from his television show, on paper it should not have been the success it was. Gus van Sant's shot for shot remake of Psycho is also given a fair amount of attention, for whilst being ultimately a failure that couldn't recreate Psycho's specific charm and shock levels, was at the very least an interesting document on how it's very hard to duplicate film history. The film delves into how the influence of the shower scene and its meticulous construction has been felt across cinema from Jurassic Park to Raging Bull and beyond. Educational without too much pandering, what also works for this film is that, despite it not being able to emulate the same level of tension as the Master of Suspense, it is able to create some sort of sustained dread. This is particularly noticeable in the final sequences of the film, as the scene and the documentary reach their crescendos.
One for fans and film obsessives who like to pore over every detail of the films they love, 78/52 is a great documentary that's well worth checking in and checking out.
You may not be immediately aware of who Tom of Finland was or his artwork, but it's unlikely you're unaware of the impact the work of Tom, AKA Touko Laaksonen has had on gay culture and fashion of the 1970s and 80s, and therefore most forms of popular entertainment. His intricately shaded pencil drawings of burly moustachioed men in leather and uniforms helped shaped the iconography of the era. This biography starts with Touko (Pekka Strang) as a soldier fighting in World War II, hiding his homosexuality and engaging in illegal and dangerous sexual encounters with other soldiers. Returning home from the war to live with his sister Kaija (Jessica Grabowsky), his attempts to come out to her are dismissed as him being confused and changed by the war. Opting to continue his sex life with unknown men in public bathrooms and wooded areas often raiding by the police, he uses his provocative, often pornographic drawings as calling cards to reveal his homosexuality to others. Spanning a long period of time from the Second World War to the AIDS epidemic of the 1980s, the secretive nature of Touko's life shares more in common with an espionage thriller like Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy, except the content of the articles being passed around is a little bit different. Where the film falls down is in its exploration of the man as an artist. His wartime persona and the impact his killing of a Russian soldier had on him is well covered in the first half of the film, but the story is crying out for more to be revealed about his method and inspiration. This is better explored once Touko begins to understand his international, more mainstream appeal and flirts with the prospect of new horizons in the open atmosphere of California, but there's a lack of actual artwork on show, save for a few brief scenes of Touko sketching. Given that his images are so indelible, this is often a frustrating element of the film.
The film is respectful of Tom's legacy and of his romantic life with long term partner, Veli (Lauri Tilkanen), but some parts of the film have fallen for classic biography pitfalls, including some questionable old man make-up effects and a visit to foreign lands where everyone speaks with a certain Finnish twang. Thankfully this is largely forgivable, particularly when the film does so well at capturing the covert, secretive tone of Touko's earlier years. A lot of the work seems tame and even quaint by today's standards (to the point where his work was celebrated in his native Finland by appearing on postage stamps), but the film makes clear that this was a different time that was unaccepting of his homosexuality, and that the images created by Touko were extremely dangerous to be in possession of. As told to him by one official, also leading a secret life, "it's not just a picture. It's an atomic bomb". As an important artistic figure it's right that his life should be celebrated; it's just a pity the film didn't take a leaf out of Touko's book and sketch things out with more detail. Verdict
3/5
As is abundantly evident in this new documentary, Jim Carrey is at an incredibly interesting point in his career. His most recent film appearance was in The Bad Batch, a Netflix movie that came and went with little fanfare. If you've seen that film and don't recall Jim Carrey appearing in it, that's probably because his role as a waif thin transient with a gigantic beard rendered him near unrecognisable from the A-list movie star who appeared in Ace Ventura, Dumb and Dumber and Mr Poppers Penguins. Seemingly eager to expand upon (or possibly destroy) his movie star image, this Netflix documentary looks behind the scenes of one of his most lauded dramatic performances, as Andy Kaufman in the 1999 Milos Forman film, Man on the Moon. Although some stories of Carrey's method approach surfaced at the time, the actual footage has been in the possession of Carrey since that film wrapped. The reason he's kept it away? Well, therein lies the story of this documentary.
Placing the film in the context of his career and the other films he appeared in at the time (The Truman Show clearly had an equally profound effect on him and his position as a celebrity), it's a testament to one of Carrey's strongest abilities as an actor; to lay himself completely bare on screen. Although as a reflective Carrey says in the intimate talking head interview that drives this film, it isn't even him up on screen. Talking about hearing he got the part whilst sitting on a beach in Malibu where 30 dolphins suddenly appeared, Jim claims he received a telepathic message from Andy saying "sit down, I'll be doing my movie".
Carrey's get out clause of "what happened afterwards was out of my control" is debatable, and a lot of the footage filmed by a small roaming crew of documentarians (comprised of Kaufman's former girlfriend, Lynne Marguiles, and his former writing partner, Bob Zmuda) captures Carrey only responding as if he was Andy, and some extraordinarily bad behaviour, including wandering around with a paper bag on his head to the complete exasperation of director Milos Forman, and turning up to set drunk as Kaufman alter-ego, Tony Clifton. Notoriously hard to handle when portrayed by Kaufman in the 70s, highlights of the Man on the Moon behind the scenes footage see Clifton, played by Bob Zmuda, arrive at the Playboy Mansion to cause havoc (with some sycophants commending Carrey's method until Carrey himself turned up), and Carrey as Clifton walking around Spielberg's offices demanding to see "the real shark".
Carrey offers no apologies for his/Andy's/Tony's behaviour, and despite some of the cast and crew of Man on the Moon taking it in good humour, it's almost a surprise Carrey worked ever again. Perhaps they saw it, as this film casually suggests, as a movie star desperately trying to prove himself as a legitimate actor and not just as a clown. Carrey is resolute in his claim that it was Kaufman on set, not him, and although it's amusing to see former co-workers like Judd Hirsch and Jerry Lawler puzzled, bemused and (allegedly) angered by Carrey's antics, a meeting between Kaufman's daughter and Carrey as Kaufman has potentially emotionally scarring implications that are hard to fathom.
Having undergone some personal turmoil recently that has kept him off cinema screens, when Carrey stares directly down the camera lens and into your living room, it's hard not feel compassion for the man. Even with his beard, he's still incredibly youthful looking at the ripe old age of 55, but there's something about those eyes looking back at you that make you realise you've probably underestimated him as a performer for his whole career. Putting the Kaufman channeling to one side, this film is a great study of the artist's method, and although they could have included input from Danny DeVito, Courtney Love, etc, by keeping the sole contemporary voice as Carrey's it is able to focus on his power as a performer, on screen and off.
This documentary (to give it its full title, Jim & Andy: The Great Beyond - Featuring a Very Special, Contractually Obligated Mention of Tony Clifton) will help ensure that Carrey's lengths to go method will go down in history, although in classic Kaufman fashion, it's hard to tell if it was a joke and who was in on it with Carrey, Kaufman and Clifton the whole time.
This new documentary follows folk singer Shirley Collins who, after an extended period of over 30 years where she would not and could not perform, attempts to find her voice.
For those in the know, Shirley Collins has a standing as one of the best voices of the new folk movement of the 1950s and 60s. Often performing with her older sister Dolly, she was known for her musical innovations within the folk scene, until 1980 where due to personal issues stemming from her husband leaving her for another woman, she found herself unable to sing.
Largely retreating from public life she has hardly sang since, but after celebrating her 80th birthday she decided to record a new album Lodestar, for which this film serves as an in depth behind the scenes document. To complete the story, actors have been employed to appear in mock 16mm footage and Hannah Arteton (sister of Gemma) provides narration from Shirley's diary entries and writings at the time of her rise.
Knowledge of obscure 50s and 60s folk singers is not necessary, as Shirley is a delightfully open lady who is happy to re-discover old personal letters and share her stories of travels to America whilst enjoying her semi-retirement in Sussex. It's clear from the many people who are happy to talk about her (comedian Stewart Lee pops up to ask her about the times she performed at The Troubadour in London) that she is truly adored among the folk music scene.
The personal issues that lead to her retreating from her life as a performer are handled openly and honestly, and whilst not incredibly dramatic, clearly still affect her deeply. The film also serves as a lesson to those who don't make the most of their god given talents, with scenes showing Shirley frustrated with the changes to her once youthful, soft voice, worried that her performances either aren't a true expression or are letting the songs down. On the contrary, her voice is delicately cracked, aged and honest, as is Shirley in this telling of her quaintly English story.
Part of the BFI London Film Festival's cult strand, S. Craig Zahler's follow up to Bone Tomahawk is the Vince Vaughn revenge thriller (yes, really) Brawl in Cell Block 99.
If you're familiar with the work of Vince Vaughn, you'll probably know him from the immense potential he first showed in 1996's Swingers (as Trent, a loudmouth ladies man who glides through the L.A. scene on his effortless charm), followed by 20 years of comedies of varying degrees of quality. He's dipped his toes into dramatic waters in that time (2001's thriller Domestic Disturbance and last year's Mel Gibson helmed Hacksaw Ridge, for example), but it's as a comedic actor that he's best known. Which is why Brawl in Cell Block 99 makes for such a bold (and bald) move from Vaughn; using his imposing physical presence to deliver a character who's like nothing else we've seen from him before.
Bradley Thomas (Vaughn) starts the film as a man down on his luck, losing his auto repair job and discovering that his wife Lauren (Dexter's Jennifer Carpenter) has been having an affair. Choosing to step up rather than walk away, he uses his connections to get a job in drug trafficking that will help rebuild his family life. Cut to 18 months later, and Bradley and Lauren have become an old fashioned criminal success story, with a new house and a baby on the way. It's virtually impossible to say anything more about the plot of the film without spoiling it, but needless to say things go sour for Bradley and prison awaits him.
If I can pick one word to describe Brawl..., it's violent. But if I can have a second word it's slow. Sometimes frustratingly so. Some scenes of Vaughn walking down corridors or stairwells bring to mind the episode of The Simpsons where Bart and Milhouse are late to school, leading to a contest to see who can walk the slowest before Milhouse freaks out and runs off into the distance. When I watched this film I felt like Milhouse, having to keep myself from yelling at the screen for Vaughn to get moving while I watched a man the size of a mountain walk quarter speed, like Herman Munster had gone to prison.
Having said that, you would anticipate from the title that this film takes place mostly in a prison, but you would be wrong. It's over an hour into the film before Vaughn even arrives in prison, and it's not even the correct prison where the actual brawl of the title is due to take place. As described by Don Johnson's warden, this is not maximum security, it's "minimum freedom", with all of the electro-shock belts and bone breaking that go with it. That's not to say that the preceding hour doesn't have its moments of thrills, action and rage, but it's a long wait for the promise of that purposely Grindhouse-style title to arrive. But when it does, oh boy.
An example of Bradley's pent up rage is shown to us early on when he arrives home to discover his wife's affair. He methodically and effectively beats up her car, taking off wing mirror appendages and the hood of the car like it's a real life Street Fighter 2 bonus round. The scene is not especially dramatic or emblematic of Bradley's violent nature, but serves to show us that when violence is needed, this is a guy who has anger and strength in reserves and can clinically execute an opponent.
S. Craig Zahler has clearly chosen to aim for a slower, 1970s thriller vibe (if this film existed 40 years ago, it would have starred Charles Bronson for sure), and although he over shoots the target by some way, this film has enough pitch black dark humour, extreme face trauma and moments of genuinely shocking violence that it needs to be seen with as big as an audience as possible. If you need a litmus test to find out which of your friends are as deeply disturbed as you are, watch this with them and listen to the laughter flow.
Despite some knock-off '90s Tarantino style dialogue (no one says handcuff him, they all say "give him jewellery"), there's so much to enjoy about Brawl..., largely down to the presence of Vince Vaughn who, trying to give his career a shot in the arm and show audiences what he's capable of, has succeeded in surprising all of us.
