Antoinette in the Cevennes

 Seen at the Lumiere Cinema, Christchurch, New Zealand

Cecil on his last solo cinema trip during a film-packed week away.

Cecil says: You could see this film as a story about a young woman’s relationship with a donkey; it could also be a study of the lengths physical desire, especially forbidden desires, can take you to; or you could just sit back and enjoy the beautiful Cevennes scenery, as our main protagonist hikes a trail made famous by Robert Louis Stephenson.

The relationship between Antoinette and the donkey Patrick is probably the most charming aspect of this film. It takes time to create a bond with Patrick and he is as stubborn as any cartoon Eeyore at first, but by the end there is a closeness which sees them wander off into the hills together, leaving us wondering what happens to her next.

Or do we wonder? I mean, this is where I slightly had a problem with this film, in that I neither respected what Antoinette was doing (unlike her fellow diners at the hostels, many of whom called her courageous, romantic…) nor found it really believable, and although she is engaging on some levels, she is also a pain in the bum, and I would certainly not want her around to complicate my life! (I would probably think the same as the unsmiling hiker at dinner who probably expresses what many like me were thinking, though I’d probably not have spoken out with such a judgmental line in public).

The other slightly annoying thing in the film is that in the opening scenes, Antoinette and her primary school class are performing a song for the end of school year; they do a great job of it, but I spent the rest of the film trying for the life of me to work out what the song was, knowing it had been a hit in my own youth - I don’t want to put in a spoiler here, rather save future viewers wasting their memory and energy on this task: it was Kiki Dee’s ‘Amoureuse’…

So, while it was a pleasant enough way to pass a drizzly afternoon of a winter holiday, it’s not a film I’d rush to see again.

By the way, plot is: young primary school teacher having an affair with colleague and father of one of her pupils. She finds out where this family are going on summer holiday - the Cevennes - and decides to create a coincidence by turning up on the same trail…Yes, exactly, I mean, really??

***

Herself

 Seen at the Academy Gold Cinema, Christchurch

Cecil going solo again - all this week in fact.

Cecil says: Watching ‘Herself’ in a Christchurch cinema surrounded by people I don’t know and with Bea thousands of miles away, I suddenly found myself thinking of Bruno Ganz in ‘Wings of Desire’ (Himmel über Berlin). I felt like I was watching over both the action on the screen in front of me, taking place in Dublin, with a young single mother who has escaped from domestic violence, and over the people in the audience around me: all locals so in on the tradition in this cinema to have an ice cream as you watch the movie (I think I was the only one not licking a cone among the 30 or so watching with me). And, as usual, I was the very last to leave the room, having seen all the credits, putting the film to bed somehow but learning more about the main writer, actor and producer, Claire Dunne, and getting a nice list of the music that made the soundtrack.

But, like Bruno Ganz the angel looking down over Berlin, I did get involved in the film. Dunne has created a scarily believable scenario and a very empathetic character in Sandra, who struggles with flashbacks, traumatised kids and social services.

The film is definitely not all doom and gloom, though. There’s a message in there on the kindness of strangers (something of which we must all at some point in our lives have had a taste), of community working together to achieve things, and above all of resilience and perseverance.

The girls playing Sandra’s daughters do a fantastic job. How much do you need to coach a 3-4-5 year old girl in the traumas their characters have gone through to get them to act so accurately? Or do you just get them to imagine something like your most precious toy being thrown away or broken by someone you don’t like?

The other actors are peripheral really, and most of their faces unfamiliar to me, though I did recognise Harriet Walter playing the doctor who is so generous to the needy Sandra, and she played her part well, too.

I did wonder what Bea would have made of the plaintive ballad sung by Sandra towards the end. Bea tells a good tale of her friend and her backpacking days in Ireland and almost groaning at yet another pub with a local getting up to sing their favourite heart-rending song. So, strangely enough again, I became Bruno Ganz the angel at that point in the film, and was thinking of Bea instead of getting inside the heart and soul of Sandra.

Overall, I do recommend Herself. It’s not a cheery light-hearted flick; it’s more gritty with a serving of humour and hope. And I look forward to what Claire Dunne has up her sleeve next, both acting and writing.

****

James and Isey

 Seen at the Alice Cinema, Christchurch, New Zealand

Cecil alone again for this trip!

Cecil says: After 6 days in New Zealand, I thought it was time to see a bit of Maori culture, so chose James & Isey as my Sunday morning film fix.

It’s a documentary just covering the lead-up to Isey’s 100th birthday in April 2019. Her son James says at one point that he wanted to mark the occasion with something special, and he reckoned nobody had done a documentary about a mother and son like this before.

Isey is a feisty lady, brought up by Maori parents who believed that speaking English would give her more of a chance in life, so she actually speaks very little of her family’s native tongue: “Kia ora,” she giggles at one point, like a British tourist might after arriving on a cruise ship and having a ring of flowers draped round their neck.

James, in contrast is a shaman, in touch with the spirits, connecting higher up than just the God we read about in the Bible (he is also Christian by the way, so this does not come across as blasphemous). He knew he had the ‘gift’ at age 5 but the powers only came through in his 40s.

He used to be a rock star, and we see video clips of him singing and gyrating to his 1980s hits; he was transitioning to a career on the stage and screen when he had a stroke, which left him paralysed for 6 months.

I’m not sure of the timeline, but he returned to his parents when his father was diagnosed with cancer, and he has lived there ever since, not really ‘caring for’ his Mum, but living with her ‘in harmony,’ as he describes it.

We are shown scenes of him doing shamanic things on a cow about to the slaughtered, on waters before a fishing trip, and towards the end sitting at the northern tip of New Zealand, his spirits’ home, where the Pacific and Tasman oceans meet.

He says he gets laughed at by mates of his brother and he probably comes across as weird to a 21st century urban and westernised community (in Auckland?), but at the actual 100th birthday party, he looks totally at ease at a ceremony of welcome by local haka performers, male and female.

His Mum Isey has a powerful voice, still. She can (usually) blow out her birthday candles, and right at the end we hear her rendition of ‘Que sera, sera.’ Pretty impressive for a centenarian. The only slightly tense moment I felt - for James especially, though he did well to hide it if he was annoyed - was when one of the older guests, a 92 year old gent, briefly stole the limelight from Isey. This was just after James had said Isey will give us a song, but we ended up hearing the 92 year old giving a song instead, and Isey never got to do her number in front of all her guests…

I feel drawn to shamanism in indigenous culture - Native American also - not that I have fully tapped into any gift I may have, even with my ‘healing hands.’ I have never yet felt any connection to Maori culture, probably because it seems based so totally on prowess in fighting or showing off strength (all those hakas leave me cold I’m afraid), but maybe James and Isey has helped me get a sense of where I’d fit in if Bea and I ever do decide to live long term in New Zealand…

***

Six Minutes to Midnight

 Seen at the Lumiere Cinema in Christchurch, New Zealand

Cecil went it alone for this one (and the next 3).

Cecil says: Great opening scene to this movie set just days before the start of the Second World War along the south coast of England.

The mood of that scene is very Graham Greene, as a man searches desperately for something hidden behind a row of books - is it money or something more concrete? Whatever it is makes him scarper on his push bike and into the local town where the next scene has him taking a deck-chair on the pier, and before you know it his hat is floating up into the air beyond the pier.

It’s a great scene-setter for this spy story starring the ever-brilliant Judi Dench, the increasingly visible Eddie Izzard (who co-wrote the screenplay - is he trying to be a new Kenneth Branagh, producing material he can feature in?), and the rather wonderful Carla Juri, who reminded me terribly of a close friend now gone, though it was good to remember her in every scene involving Ilse.

The story holds up well in classic spy-style, keeping us guessing always who the baddies and who the goodies are. My only question mark was over one of the school girls, Astrid - we aren’t really shown where her change of heart emerges from at the end.

I’m still not 100% convinced by Eddie Izzard. I felt he was more at ease playing a character probably nearer to the real him in Boy Choir. In this one he almost carried it off as the half-German spy taking a job as English teacher in a school where the girls are all linked to the Nazi regime back in Germany.

But there was something missing somehow and I can’t tell if it was in the writing or in the acting, or is it me? I mean, I should be able to relate, as the role he plays is very much the kind of role I might have been called on to play if I had lived in those tense times, but somehow I didn’t feel immersed totally in the action or the storyline (unlike for example in Remains of the Day); I was conscious throughout of watching a film and observing from the outside.

It made me wonder what Judi Dench made of the script. She was fantastic as always, as the slightly naive principal of the college, but could she see the slight weakness in the screenplay when she first saw it?

How could we have learned more about Mr Miller and Ilse’s past or their relationship? Would that have helped?

It’s an intriguing tale, based apparently on true events, though the credits at the very end claim the characters are all fictitious. I enjoyed it, and loved seeing it on my first real holiday break since Covid started almost 18 months ago.

***

Dead Letter Office

 Seen at the Star Cinema, Eaglehawk, VIC

Bea says: I left Australia originally in 1995, just around the cusp of the buzz around Death in Brunswick, and completely missed Dead Letter Office's release in 1998.

We saw this at the Star in Eaglehawk as well, as part of the Australian Film Festival weekend and it was enhanced by a Q&A with the director.

It is a charming film, with the office of the title being a subdivision of the post office service which tries to track down impossible addresses and addresees. Our heroine Alice (Miranda Otto) is compelled to work there in order to track down her absent father, who she has written to since she was a child - and her letters have been going to the Dead Letter Office.

It was a lovely, nostalgic step back to the simpler 1990s. People were lonely, sad, and down on their luck, but were also kind, funny, thoughtful and warm.  Absolute standout performance from George DelHoyo as Frank Lopez. The ending made me so happy. Highly recommended if you see it anywhere.
****

 Cecil says: Dead Letter Office brought back so many memories of past lives.

I too, worked in a postal sorting office in 1986. It was the kind of old-fashioned place that probably changed enormously in the years after that: it was not just the manual labour of lugging sacks of parcels off conveyor belts onto vans to delivery but the whole culture of the workplace then, with its men in brown coats supervising things, the canteen where I went for meals, including custard with my fruit pies (no canteen in this film, mind), and the slightly awkward relationships between colleagues whose only connection really is the workplace.

The ‘Dead Letter Office’ also reminded me of all the filing I used to do in my first office job, starting in 1987. And just like in this film, which was made in 1998, but has much more the feel of a late 80s atmosphere, I imagine at some point the equivalent of the JCB Bob-Cat moved in to shovel away to the tip all those carefully filed sheets and copies made for the seven years I did that job (computers were just starting to appear as I left that office in 1994).

And then the whole Chilean connection resonated so strongly for me. I worked with many Chileans in the late 80s and early 90s, mainly in London, but the atmosphere of the social gatherings in suburban Melbourne could just as easily have been the places I went to in Peckham or Finsbury Park.

The star of this film is George DelHoyo, who plays Frank, the head of department for the Dead Letter Office, who can snap into action and trace lost people in a matter of minutes if he decides to, but is also languishing in the tragic memories of his past in Chile. We were lucky enough to have a Q&A with the Director (John Ruane), who revealed they had tracked DelHoyo down via the small ads of a local Latino newspaper in LA, and had to deal with DelHoyo being 6’1” and therefore much taller than any Chilean any of them had ever met. But his acting was superb and he held the film together single-handedly.

Miranda Otto (who later played the Elfine Queen Eowyn in Lord of the Rings) was OK as the young woman desperately looking for her father, and using the Dead Letter Office as a means to track him down. She was endearing, if slightly wooden, or was that just the awkwardness of young adulthood?

Her accommodation reminded me so much of friends’ house shares in Brighton in the 1980s also, so that was very genuine, and her flatmates also came across as the types I moved around in my university days (and those unemployed times after uni).

So, as a drop back into my lives that are now long gone, this was a delightful film. We didn’t really get the impression the Director really had much connection to the film, though I guess he has probably done a lot in the subsequent 23 years, so who can blame him. I enjoyed it, though.

Oh, and spot the Dad from Strictly Ballroom, a few years older than when he danced in that classic, but very recognisable…

***

 

 

Wild Mountain Thyme

 Seen at the Star Cinema in Eaglehawk, VIC

Cecil says: Bea and I have been discussing options for where we should live in the long term, given our aversion for all things Brexit and for the current trends in Australian society, which seem little better than Britain in the current climate. New Zealand has been mooted if we decide to stay South, but Ireland is also a possibility, should we wish to stay nearer folk in Europe.

The opening scenes of Wild Mountain Thyme almost made my mind up for me: the beautiful, rugged, ocean coast of the west of Ireland, and I’ve never even been there yet (mind you, nor have I ever visited New Zealand yet..).

Rather as with Kiwis, I will have to get used to the accent, though, and I did struggle for a few scenes of this film (that might have been due to the sound system which isn’t always crystal clear in the Star, Eaglehawk). I couldn’t help wondering, though, if my problem with understanding also might have come from the fact that two of the lead actors – Emily Blunt and Christopher Walken – are not natural Irish brogue speakers.

The film also reminded me of just how important family is in Ireland – who marries who; who leaves what to who taking up more importance in a lot of people’s lives than the more global political issues I usually cast my vote on. And with absolutely no family ties to Ireland, we might have to choose carefully a part of Ireland which might be willing to accept two wandering cinema buffs looking for a safe haven.

This is basically a charming love story, although it was always only heading in one direction, but that didn’t matter, because the way it got there kept us entertained along the way. They even managed to have Don Draper from Mad Men (actor: John Hamm) playing the American cousin who almost got the inheritance himself after a father/son spat early on.

And it did take me back to past trips to Ireland, where an awful lot of time seemed to be spent in little pubs drinking Guinness and listening to folk music on a fiddle, so we might also have to get used to that unless we opt for one of Ireland’s metropolises like Dublin or Cork (but even there, I reckon the pub figures quite high in the list of recreational activities).

Actually my favourite part of the film was the brief dancing scene: not the little girl’s attempts at ballet, but Emily Blunt’s adult leap into ballet moves, outside her cottage wearing farming boots and sinking into the gravel. There was an elegance to those scenes which beat any other for me in this film.

***    

Bea says: Rather nice Irish pastoral love story of two young people growing up on adjacent farms in rural Ireland who slowly find each other. The title is taken from the traditional song of the same name, and naturally the course of true love does not run smoothly but all is ultimately well. Much beautiful scenery and some nice music too, including performances of the title track. A lovely few hours of pure escape, particularly as we saw this on the sofas of the wonderful Star cinema in Eaglehawk, on a Sunday afternoon, cup of tea in hand.
***1/2

 

Penguin Bloom

 Seen at the Capitol Cinema, Warrnambool, VIC

Bea says: One positive about the corona virus situation is that it might have helped more Australian film make it to major release in the absence of larger international studio releases through 2020-21. Penguin Bloom is one such film, although with quite an international cast it is likely destined for greater things anyway.

The film chronicles the story of the Bloom family - a middle class, slightly Bohemian, busy and chaotic Sydney family who experience a life changing event when mother Sam (Naomi Watts) falls from a balcony lookout while on holiday in Thailand. Sam experiences a spinal cord injury, and the film explores the family's grief, guilt and adjustment to their new life. Key to the adjustment are an adopted baby magpie called Penguin, and a wise Kiwi kayaking coach, Gaye (Rachel House).

Based on a true story, it's a lovely film and overall quite uplifting in a gentle way (not in a traditional wheelie, or moralistic way). It gave me pause for thought as to how I would cope in a similar situation.  One minor professional point though, which I am sure Cecil will raise too – Sam’s wheelchair and home assistive technology appeared to be dated circa about 1950, and it is extremely unusual not to need any home modifications in that situation - but perhaps these and similar details were glossed over as unimportant.
***1/2

Cecil says: I love Australian magpies (obviously not when they swoop me, but their song is one of the wonders of living in this country, and a delight in the early morning especially). But the idea of a film where a family adopts an injured magpie didn’t immediately appeal to me. The thing is sometimes we choose the cinema not the film, an on this day in Warrnambool, Penguin Bloom was the only option that looked like it might suit us.

In the end, I was glad we did.

There was a lot to relate to for us as a couple.

I have always loved Sydney’s northern beaches, and I truly love swimming in their amazing rock pools – it is probably the thing I miss most about living within reach of Sydney, but interestingly, given the subject matter of the film (basically about dealing with life-changing injury and working out how to move on to a different life), I can watch films set there these days and not be hankering after a life that has now passed. They are fond memories but there is no tug of the heart anymore.

The injury suffered by Sam, the main character in this film – played by Naomi Watts – leads to reassessment not only of Sam’s day-to-day life, but also her relationships and her family. I think COVID must have done this to many couples across the world, and for many it has seen the end of relationships that couldn’t survive the scrutiny, but for Bea and I it has actually led us to reflect on our lives and brought us closer if anything. Adversity and challenges have a habit of doing that, I find; they can make or break.

Cameron (played by Andrew Lincoln – I remember him mostly as playing the northern English lawyer in This Life so so long ago) does his best to deal with the anger and frustrations going through Sam’s mind and body. And then there is the main child, the one who feels that it is his fault that his Mum fell off the balcony, and the trauma he goes through, and how he tried to deal with it via video diaries – fortunately I never had a trauma like that as a child, but I can well imagine my younger self taking a similar approach.

There were a few odd things that made me question why certain directions weren’t taken (and this is based on a true story, don’t forget). If this was a Northern Beaches family, living fairly comfortably by the look of things, why did they not seek professional help for Sam in the form of counselling or psychotherapy? They could surely afford it? Or has that become less of a go-to in middle-class Australia?

And then Sam’s past career in nursing. Fairly glossed over, apart from one old photograph, and I know it’s easier to be on the other side of the treatment table, but I couldn’t help wondering why she didn’t turn to alternative life-style activities earlier. Surely it’s the very thing as a nurse she’d have been encouraging patients to do, so there would have been one moment surely, where she’d think of people she had helped in hospital in that earlier life of hers.

It all ends up OK, of course, and the real Sam ends up competing in the Olympics for Australia, so it is a wonderful portrayal of how to come back from adversity in your life.

Interesting choices to cast the two main characters with English actors, though. I’m not sure who else I’d have gone for, and they did a good job, plus Naomi Watts looks as if she actually belongs totally in both countries (so a bit like me, really), but it did feel slightly strange once I’d worked out where I’d seen them both before.

***

High Ground

 Seen at the Paramount Theatre, Maryborough, VIC

Cecil says: Beautifully-filmed in Northern Territory, much of it in the fantastic Kakadu National Park, which I haven’t visited for almost 30 years, but which holds a fascination as somehow at the heart and soul of the true Australia. After watching 90 minutes of bloodshed as white settlers battle with local communities about 100 years ago, my overall feeling was: “What the fuck are we doing here?” Why don’t we whites just quit the red centre and the Northern Territory and let the indigenous peoples have their land back, and develop their own culture?

I don’t want to write a spoiler review, but like in the settler novel I just read (“The Secret River” by Kate Grenville), nearly everyone gets killed in ‘High Ground’, so if you’re wary of gory killings or of gunfire, you’ll need to be looking away a fair bit as you watch on the big screen.

But the panoramic filming, the extraordinary wildlife, and the observation of Aboriginal rituals and practices make this an epic experience. The soundtrack, whether the Aboriginal music, the birds screeching, or the cracks and rustles of the undergrowth, is captivating without much, if any, scored orchestrated pieces to it.

Wityana Marika was majestic as the family elder; Jacob Junior Nayinggul superb as the main character Gutjuk (interesting to see that the Nayinggul family are so central to this film in all the credits, and I noticed also that there seem to be no photos of Jacob in any of the cast lists for ‘High Ground’ – I wonder if he’ll be back on our screens any time in the future?).

Among the white characters, Simon Baker does a great job as the attempted conciliator Travis; Jack Thompson is gritty as ever as the chief white personage; and Caren Pistorius has a good go at the missionary’s sister, though she didn’t age much in the 12 or so years of the film and she came through it all pretty unscathed for such a rough, outdoor life as she must have led.

Although both Australian films we have seen this month don’t make me feel great about living here, I did enjoy High Ground a lot more than The Dry. There is hope if the indigenous culture can be allowed to flourish again; if we do listen to the wind, the sky and the earth, to paraphrase what the elder says at one point.

****

 

Bea says:  One benefit of Covid seems to be that the Australian film industry has been able to continue, and so the last two films we have seen are both locally made.  High Ground is one of them. 

 The film has been compared to the John Ford-style Westerns, and having seen it I agree; with a white settler vs Indigenous population theme, and lots of riding though canyons (albeit canyons with lots of tropical plant as the film takes place in Kakadu) with eerie feelings of being watched. 

 The title of the film is taken from this; taking the high ground is important - it gives a view of all oncomers and incomers.  Possibly it also operates at a metaphorical level (before I saw the film I thought it would refer more to this - taking the high ground morally and all the contradictions that entails) but actually that is not explicit in the film, though it was perhaps something they were trying to do; perhaps with the missionary characters who instead are portrayed quite sympathetically.

 To some degree I was disappointed with the Western aspect of the film.  That bit of it felt quite derivative, exclusively male, and not very contemporary.  The Indigenous people in the film do have a fairly strong role and are relatively well explored in terms of the knowledge of tradition, language, customs, food and medicine (although perhaps there could have been more of this). 

 Massacres are a key part of the action, but the more insidious erosion of culture through missionary work, settlement and government policy is really only lightly touched upon.  The missionary sister Claire looks far too modern, and doesn't age at all over a 20-30 year period (very hard to believe when living in a wooden shed in a harsh, hot and very remote tropical climate, particularly as she is rarely shot wearing any kind of hat or sun protection). 

 It is not a feel-good film at all, although worth seeing as there are just so few films that give any airspace at all to Australia's Indigenous people and their stories.  I just wish it hadn't tried to be a Western - that is such a problematic genre in terms of Indigenous relations and portrayals. 

** .5

The Dry

 Seen at the Bay Cinema, Brighton, VIC

Bea says:  I was keen to see this as I had read the much-lauded book a few years ago.  I had a few reservations about the book at the time, but always enjoy a bit of a crime/mystery story and this one is set more or less in the part of the world I find myself living in at the moment.

 The plot revolves around a high-level police officer (Aaron Falk, played by Eric Bana), now working in Melbourne in a desk position who returns to his home town in country Victoria to attend a funeral of a peer.  The death is considered to be a murder-suicide (and now having lived in Australia for a few years I am newly struck how common this is on remote properties), but Aaron begins to dig around, which is at first welcomed by the local police, but as suspicion starts to fall on him, it is less well received. 

 Aaron has some skeletons in his own closet, which start to come out, and although he goes on to solve the murder and be lauded by the town, the film has a strong element of noir and as a result an air of darkness which in fact pretty accurately reflects life in country Australia. 

 I left Australia prior to the Millennium drought, and the long years of Howard's conservative government, and have been struck since I returned by the change in country towns which now look hard-up and depressed, particularly when compared to the glittering boom town cities on the coast.  Both the film and the book capture this despair and the emptiness left by it in people's lives and the culture of Australia well, but it is not uplifting viewing at all.

 My main concern with the film, and with the book, is that it felt like two stories in one.  I'm fairly sure this author had two different novels drafted out and combined them to make the book and film - there are, for example, two endings (one where the modern murder is solved, and one where the historical one is).  The two sit a bit awkwardly for me (and if the two stories were intentional it isn't particularly well done in my view), but it is a relatively minor point and Cecil for example didn't really notice this aspect of the story at all.

 Definitely worth a watch, but not if you need cheering up! 

***

 

 Cecil says: The storyline of The Dry was compelling enough to keep me interested for the duration of the film, though there was something of a sense of foreboding over the whole thing, it left me thinking life in country Victoria can be pretty grim at times, and as Bea and I discussed it on our way home afterwards, I realised that everything I was saying about it sounded negative.

So where does leave us?

Well, there’s the plot, first. Experienced Melbourne-based detective comes back to his home town after an apparent murder-suicide case took place there AND he received a note from someone in the town about having lied, and needing to tell the truth. He gets involved in helping the local cop investigate the killings, but meantime there is a fair bit of hostility to him from some of the town’s residents because of his own involvement with a teenage girl who died in the local river when he was still at school.

And basically you need to keep an eye on both stories – about both sets of deaths – as the film develops, with quite a lot of flashback footage of the river bank frolics of the teenagers which ended in disaster. The flashback phenomenon in story-telling is something I tend to find rather annoying, and definitely a 21^st century fashion in both novel-writing and film-making (look at the dreadful re-make of Little Women for how NOT to do it). It’s OK in The Dry once you work out which of the teenage girls is the one who died and which is still living in the town some 20 years on…

The town is full of pretty bogan rednecks, and there is a lot of violence and drinking down at the pub. It’d be enough to put me off living in country Victoria if I wasn’t already doing so…

One of these aggressive blokes, Grant, has a go at our hero Melbourne-cop, but then gets roughed up himself soon after as the suspicion falls briefly on him. But I don’t believe an experienced detective from Melbourne would immediately assume that a note saying “Grant?” had to refer to the bloke who had it in for him. Grant, after all, is also a noun, which could quite plausibly have been the reference in the note and a decent cop would have picked that up.

So, as well as the violence, the drinking, one of the newer arrivals in town is struggling with racist attitudes, so again this really doesn’t paint a brilliant picture of small town Australia…

And then it’s dry, and that’s the whole point. The river in which the teenager drowned all those years ago is just a dry, muddy track now, and although we have had a fair dowsing of rain since we saw the film, this is the time of year when I almost lose the will to live myself, as the barren brown dryness seems interminable after weeks and weeks without rain.

So, no, The Dry didn’t leave me in good spirits, but maybe that says as much about my current feelings on country Australia as it does about The Dry itself.

But, as another local to me who saw the film and loved it said, it was refreshing to see a film set exclusively in country Victoria, and it felt like the camera was on our lives here for the first time. She also thought the character of the local cop, doing his best to find a way through, managing local sentiment whole doing his job as a cop, was the most sympathetic of all of them. I guess maybe she was right…

***

 

Tenet

 Seen at the Peninsula Cinema, Sorrento VIC

Bea says: Tenet was my suggestion as Cecil isn't really into the whole sci-fi/time travel/action genre but I don't mind it as a bit of escapism; and I had heard some good reviews from colleagues and BBC podcasts on the film.  We were taking advantage of the current relative easing of restrictions in our state of Victoria, Australia and had gone away for the weekend (our first time since March) to the Mornington Peninsula.  Sorrento has a lovely old cinema (although I will leave Cecil to say more about that), Tenet was on at a time that suited us, and so it was decided.  It was our first cinema outing since March and it did have some odd quirks (not least the rather non-socially distanced spacing the booking system decided on!) but all in all it was lovely to be in a cinema again.

Tenet is action-packed from the opening scenes; it's loud, quite violent, pacey and beautifully shot.  It's rather like a blend of Bond, Dr Who and the Terminator series.  Basically, our hero, the Protagonist (John David Washington), a CIA agent, narrowly escapes death in mysterious circumstances, and as a result is recruited to a secret organisation called Tenet, who are able to manipulate time.  This organisation claim to be trying to avert a mass war/man made apocalypse which occurs in the future, and the Protagonist will be assisting in this goal, moving backward and forwards in time to do so, travelling to exotic locations and meeting and re-meeting contacts in different places in time and space.  The plot is very complex and I definitely missed things; but I did love watching the beautiful scenery of the exotic locations (this, and the action sequences, is what reminded me of the Bond films, particularly the early ones before mass travel was available).  I liked the inclusion of the puzzle of time travel and the Sator square (where the Tenet name comes from) - these aspects reminded me of the Dr Who series.

I would watch this again to pick up more of the plot details and I broadly enjoyed it, but - trigger warning - it is violent and there are explicit torture scenes and violence towards women.  I found these disturbing and as the torture scene occurs early on I wondered if I could hack it.

I understand from reading about the film that is was badly impacted by Covid-19; it is clear it could turn into a series of films but that may not happen now.

It was also really nice to see some diversity in lead roles.

***

Cecil says: Sometimes we want to go to a specific cinema as much as we do a particular film, and the Peninsula Cinemas in Sorrento were a case in point. This is one of those lovely vintage cinemas built over 100 years ago, and still screening films today. Tenet was on at the right time for us, and although it wasn't in the screen room where lots of the original features can be found, it suited our schedule to go there, so that was our choice, even though I had a hunch it might not be my cup of tea, as Bea has said.

The opening 10-15 minutes seemed to be an exact copy of any Jason Bourne film, with chases, fights, lots of gunfire, lots of explosions, confusion, action and general excitement or mayhem. I find with the Bourne films (seen during lockdown on TV so I do know the genre) that the best thing for me is to switch off, do something else even during those opening scenes of tremendous action and violence, and just tune in to the storyline after things have calmed down a bit.

That approach usually works with the Jason Bourne stories, but in the case of Tenet, I never really caught up with the plot. I vaguely knew it was about time travel and some people were moving forwards as normal, while others moved backwards through time. It was highly complex and my brain just couldn't be bothered to try to understand it really, especially as I didn't ever really care what happened to any of the characters (a real downside I've found for some of the books I've been reading while we were unable to see films at cinemas during Covid).

And, rather like Usual Suspects all those years ago now, there were probably clues left for the viewer in vital scenes, especially as we neared the yawningly dramatic climax, but if a story depends on a vital clue that is flashed across the screen in a milli-second, and if you aren't tuned in for that, you miss the whole point, then it isn't much of a story in my book.

Sorry, Tenet, just not my thing (oh, and the very fact that both Bea and myself have thought of so many different films or genres it reminds us of surely says a lot about how derivative it is rather than breaking new ground in cinema - God, I'm sounding like a pompous bore, but honestly I was bored...)

*

Military Wives

Seen at the Everyman, Glasgow

Cecil says: We watched Military Wives on our wedding anniversary on a wet afternoon in Glasgow, when it was a relief just to get into the warm and out of the relentless rain outside. It was a good, light-hearted film for a matinee and actually felt very relevant to our own lives in so many ways.

We are both choral singers, rather than karaoke fans, but we have seen enough self-important, know-it-all choir people over the years to recognise the character played so well by Kristin Scott-Thomas.

We also lived a few miles from the UK’s largest garrison for some years in Yorkshire and we rather fancy they filmed part of Military Wives on that garrison that we knew so well (though I guess army housing looks pretty similar wherever you are in the country). And we often drove past the isolated farmhouse, which I’m pretty sure was mainly used for film sets and appeared in this film (though there were no details of where exactly the locations were in the credits at the end).

And we have both sung at the Albert Hall, my first time also being a very emotional occasion, singing a Requiem just days after a close friend had died, so there were lots of memory triggers throughout the film for me, and I’m sure for Bea as well.

The plot is kind of fun: organising morale-boosting activities for wives of servicemen and women left behind when the spouses go on 6-monthly tours of duty; and the very different approach from the senior officer’s (posh) wife to the sergeant-major’s (more working class) partner.

I could never have survived in the armed forces for lots of reasons, but one of the toughest things I think is the stark hierarchy and the tendency for class divides to be so heightened in the forces. I would never have fitted in with the ordinary soldiers, but nor would I have been at ease in the officer’s mess, with all that posh talk going on around me.

There are some comical adjustments to the dialogue and filming to make things easier (I guess) for American – and other overseas – audiences, like the reference to ‘York Cathedral’ instead of Minster; and the hilarious signpost in the middle of the Yorkshire Dales with “London, M1” to the left and the garrison to the right (It reminds me of a final scene in some movie we saw years ago when the main character goes to a ticket counter and asks for ‘two tickets to Africa, please’…).

And although I loved the final song supposedly created from letters the wives had written to their spouses (or vice versa), with beautiful music (I think composed by Scotsman Lorne Balfe), I do not believe they would have been learning their lines still on the coach down to London, or never have rehearsed the song until they got to the changing rooms at the Albert Hall. But, hey, this is fiction and there is dramatic licence, so it didn’t really matter…

Overall, it’s a nice film, with some moving scenes related to loss and grief, but a feel-good film on the whole, and certainly good for a wet afternoon in Glasgow.

***

Bea says:  Seen at my new fave cinema, and sort of my current local – the Everyman in Glasgow, and as Cecil says, this was a bit of welcome light relief, as well as a relief to be dry and warm and sheltered from the Glasgow rain for a few hours!

Cecil suggested this one for our anniversary afternoon (in between lunch at the Willow Tea Rooms and a fish and chip supper), and I was happy to agree as I assumed it would be about the formation of the military wives choir (which it was) – but I hadn’t quite realised how much it would resonate with our life, including the Garrison scenes and the concert at the Royal Albert Hall.

 I entered choral life later than Cecil, and have sung more than once at the RAH, but the first time (the Verdi Requiem for me) is unforgettable.  Cecil and I are spending quite a bit of time apart this year due to differing work commitments, so a film that brought together so many facets of our life, on our wedding anniversary was actually very special and poignant.

However, it could have just been some good writing, and perhaps everyone seeing this film feels connected in some way to its story of marriages, loss, grief, parenting and joy – universal emotions even if one hasn’t shared the exact experience of the women.

Other than these deeper emotions, the film is actually quite lightweight and fun in a “Full Monty” kind of way with lots of singalong tracks (I suspect a stage show is likely to follow) and wisecracking.  Kristin Scott Thomas acts everyone else off the screen, and the scene where she gets into the car and sobs is stellar – I did not share the experience her character had, but I think we can all connect with feeling that wretched, particularly when used to holding it all together.  Her grounding performance lifts the whole film above the forgettable, and I am so glad that she is in it.

Definitely worth seeing – despite the emotions, this will leave you feeling good.

***.5

A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood

Seen by Cecil at the Lido Cinema, Hawthorn, Melbourne Australia & by Bea at the Glasgow Film Theatre, Scotland

Cecil says: The older he gets, the more I find I’m enjoying Tom Hanks’ acting. Maybe that’s just me getting older, too, and relating, but I’m seeing more depth and more layers to his characters than I ever remember in earlier roles.

In Neighborhood, he’s great as Mr Rogers, the children’s TV presenter, known and loved by several generations of Americans, and with a canny knack of tuning into the real needs of each person he connects with.

Funnily enough, the kids TV programmes I thought about as I watched the film were Trumpton and Camberwick Green, the UK equivalent in the 1960s, with model people and buildings, and daily goings-on behind the doors. The windows he opened and the voice he used reminded me more of Play School, but that was for an even younger audience back then.

The main character in this film, though, Lloyd Vogel, is a rather unappealing 40 year old journalist who has a long-suffering wife, a small baby and a Dad he has massive anger towards. His task is to profile Mr Rogers for a magazine feature on ‘heroes’, and he tries to probe under the smiling, calm surface of Rogers to get to the real man underneath.

On the way he has massive fights with his Dad, treats his wife uncaringly and just came across to me as someone who needed a good dose of psychotherapy to get all those demons out in a safe place, rather than taking them out on people around him. I found him a totally unsympathetic character, so had no empathy for his situation, and certainly no tears when things went even further wrong for the man.

Rogers smoothly glances aside any probing questions from Vogel, saying only that he is only human himself, and finds an outlet for any frustrations he may have comes in thrashing down hard on the deepest bass keys of his piano. And there’s a scene very late on in the film, where we see Rogers do just that: so is that just him letting off steam after a hard day? Or is it a hint that maybe there are darker layers to the guy than we get to see in the film? We’ll never know, but it was an interesting moment, and I give the guy the benefit of the doubt…

***

Bea says: I saw Neighborhood at the Glasgow Film Theatre and went knowing very little about it other than it was Tom Hanks’ latest outing.  I thought, from the title, that it would be some kind of happy, pleasant film – and in some ways it was, but it was actually very, very emotionally intense as well. 

Not being American, I know little of Mr Rogers other than that he is/was a popular children’s entertainer from the 1960s-80s.  The insights into his motivation for this – helping children deal with deep and difficult emotions such as anxiety – was interesting. 

Our modern times are complex and difficult indeed – I sat grimacing throughout as I expected Lloyd Vogel’s investigative journalism to uncover some dreadful deed along the lines of those children’s television presenters who have more recently fallen from grace.  But this does not happen, and I was so relieved that it did not.  In a way, this was the only light relief the film had for me – Lloyd is not an overly likeable character but his difficult childhood and family life help to explain that, and his journey of self-discovery as he gets to know Mr Rogers better is heavy but at least ends well.

Tom Hanks is very good – again, perhaps I have been programmed by our modern times but I did find him slightly creepy in this role….maybe that was intentional?  I wasn’t alone, as the cinema usher told me the same thing on the way out.

I suspect the awards surrounding this film are nostalgic and to do with Americans remembering their Mr Rogers years fondly, although the story and acting are very good. 

My main or only critique was that It was surprisingly poor on the Bechtel however…I would have liked to see or hear a bit more from the female characters.

However, recommended.

***.5

1917

Seen in separate cinemas...

Bea says: As Cecil and I are not in the same city at the moment, I saw this alone at the Everyman in Glasgow, on a wet Sunday.  Sofa-style seats and tea/coffee/drinks brought on a tray made this a very comfortable cinema experience.

I did very much enjoy the 1917's narrative style - it feels like a long time since I've seen a film tell a story from start to finish without flash backs or the switching of storylines - and indeed only cover a short period in time, in this case about 11 hours or so.

The long takes have been much discussed in commentary and reviews on this film, and from what I can tell either make it a work of genius or a flop. For me, it fell somewhat in between.  There is a sense of distance (the most common criticism of the long takes), but I didn't find that took away from the film for me - after all, my ability to truly identify with a young soldier in the trenches of WW1 is going to be limited. It felt instead like hearing a story told - and from the credits I gather that's exactly how this film began.

The story is absorbing, beautifully filmed (with the Clyde standing in for northern France) , well-acted and certainly well-directed, and the time passed quickly as the film built to its resolution, which I won't give away.

However - it is rather derivative of the WW1/war genre, and did remind me a lot of the 1980s Peter Weir classic Gallipoli. So nothing new in terms of story. Failed the Bechtel - not surprising, I guess, considering the context. A woman is featured at one stage, desperately trying to keep a baby alive. That particular scene reminded me of a scene in Apocalypse Now (the Directors Cut), which this film was also somewhat reminiscent of, but in general women were mothers, wives, sisters and girlfriends at home, despite the fact that women nursed in the front line in WW1 (Testament of Youth), and were certainly active in WW2 at least as spies and resistance.

I enjoyed this film for its window into history, and family history at that, and for its strong narrative and beautiful filming. Worth a watch.

***

Cecil says:  I saw it on the same weekend as Bea but on the other side of the world, at the Classic Theatre, Elsternwick, in Melbourne’s leafy suburbs.

1917 tells a great story even if I think we focus too much on Tommy experience in WW1 or Churchill/Dunkirk etc in WW2.

The story is told as if with the two characters involved. It's a 'running' mission to get a message to the front line in time to stop a disastrous attack. And unlike Bea, I actually felt like the long takes helped me feel a part of the experience; much more immersed in 'real time' speed of events than in the modern-day social media style video clips which assume a minute attention span, and so zip from scene to scene in a milli-second, leaving old brains like mine still thinking of the action three scenes ago, while the camera has jumped on and taken more youthful brains with it.

As the intrepid pair set off from the trenches and wade through dead bodies, it conjures up images I am lucky enough only to have read before in the fantastic Pat Barker trilogy; and the scenes in the bombed-out town as our hero dodges flares and enemy gunfire; or the camera work in the water as he leaps into the fast-flowing river. It's all really well filmed and I felt a part of the process as it happened.

Apparently the River Clyde comes into it, though god knows where or when - surely it’s the Clyde upstream somewhere near Lanark rather than the wide shipping channel I’m used to seeing near Glasgow...

The final running scene reminded me of Mel Gibson in Gallipoli, so there I did share Bea’s perception, and you realise how awful it must have been to have been a fast sprinter in those war years - you’d get to do all the life threatening jobs that needed speed above all.

I found the scenes with the French/Belgian mother and baby in the bombed-out house very moving, but actually as Bea says, this is a total Bechtel failure overall, as she was the only female appearance in the whole film.

Finally, as usual I was one of the few diehards who stayed for the full credits at the end. I was amazed how many plasterers and carpenters they employed and how many digital artists (mostly with Indian names) appear listed. I do sometimes think they overdo who gets ‘credited’ these days (‘Sheryl Smith brought the tea to the cast and film crew on Day 26 of filming...’), but there is usually something to learn or to note from staying in to watch them all roll through.

***.5

Little Women

Seen at the Village Cinemas, Geelong

Bea says: We saw this on New Year’s Day at the lovely Village cinemas complex in Geelong.  It was a clear, cloudless day after the sad and devastating bushfire news in Australia, and we were in need of a pick-me-up.  After a coffee and a walk on the sea front, we headed in to a relatively busy theatre to watch this latest iteration of Louisa May Alcott’s book.

Now, I am a fan of Alcott’s work and have read all four books in the series as a child/young person (I had a vintage hardcover four book set which I think were my mother’s or aunt’s originally).  I re-read the first two books, Little Women and Good Wives, very often growing up and have seen (I think) every film and TV version made over the years.  I’ve also read some of Alcott’s other work, most notably her novella about nursing in the Civil War in a Washington DC hospital, during the period when we lived there.  However, Cecil and I have watched director Greta Gerwig’s work from early on as well, having seen and reviewed Frances Ha on this very blog.

I’m afraid I was underwhelmed with this version of Little Women.  I’m not sure what it added to the canon.  Its main claim to “innovation” was to tell the story in flashback and move back and forth in time.  Whilst this is a modern (post-modern in fact) approach to storytelling, and one I usually enjoy, it didn’t really work for me in the adaptation of this particular piece of fiction.  Little Women (the book) is a narrative that centres on the growth and personal development of the four sisters – in the actual book, this theme is likened to the Pilgrim’s Progress, the Christmas gift all fours girls are given at the book’s opening.  It is not just a series of connected, cosy stories about four young people growing up.  This theme of progress and self-development is actually what is behind the book’s eternal appeal, as otherwise it would just be too light, pleasant but instantly forgettable.  Whilst Gerwig tried to show this development in the way the flashbacks were arranged (Jo’s anger at Amy after the book-burning incident is more or less juxtaposed with (spoiler alert!) her marriage to Laurie, for example), because we didn’t have some of the subtler development that is shown through stories that focus on the other sisters in between, the impact was somewhat lost for me.

But it is hard to mess this book up in adaptation – the storyline is very strong indeed, but that is thanks to Alcott, not Gerwig I’m afraid.  Despite my familiarity with the events of the story, I still shed a tear when (spoiler alert!) Beth dies, and feel Jo’s despair and loneliness when things don’t go so well for her with the trip to Europe and Laurie.

I didn’t think the casting combined with the direction was particularly appropriate either.  Emily Watson may have done better as Jo than Saoirse Ronan – she is a perhaps a stronger actress.  

Contrary to popular opinion, I didn’t enjoy Florence Pugh as Amy – I didn’t think she looked young enough to play Amy as a child.  Timothee Chalamet as Laurie looked far too young for either Ronan or Pugh which made their love relationships difficult to believe.  Louis Garrel as Professor Bhaer also looked too young (he is supposed to be middle aged, although admittedly in the 1860s that was probably younger than it is now) and annoyingly spoke with a French rather than German accent throughout.  It was nice to see Laura Dern on screen again, and she gave it a good go, but I felt she was perhaps being held back.  Meryl Streep was perfect as always.

I’m afraid Gillian Anderson’s 1994 version still wins out for me; as does the less referenced but wonderful BBC mini-series that was only released in 2017.  I would also very much like to watch the 1949 version again now – I haven’t seen it for many years.

Seeing this film made me think of that other great series of young women growing up I read as a child – Little House on the Prairie.  Although slightly done to death in the 1970s TV series, I am quite surprised no one has thought to give this the modern (or post-modern) film treatment yet…

***

Cecil says: I can’t add much to what Bea has already said.

The casting was appalling, especially the young men, not just because they had little presence on screen, and came across more like school kids than deep-thinking intellectuals, but also as Bea says, with the accents: what on earth are we doing with a French actor (with French accent) playing a German professor. And I’m afraid Chalamet looks as if he’s barely shaving yet, let alone wooing two (or three even?) of the sisters.

The constant back-and-forth of the narrative drove me mad, mainly because it was so hard to know whether we were looking at current time in the narrative or some year earlier; the time difference being quite small meant little in the way of makeup used to distinguish how the actors looked. I must have lost the plot for a few seconds ten times through the film, and as Bea says, it’s a plot we theoretically know very well…

To be positive about something in this film, I did like the way Beth was portrayed by Gerwig, with Eliza Scanlen in the role. Her illness is always moving in every version I have seen, and the scenes with her piano playing are always lovely.

I actually hadn’t noticed before the distinctive talents of three of the sisters: Jo writing; Beth music and Amy art. That kind of leaves Meg rather talentless, though, and she is the one who craves above all else a typical homely life, so maybe that is intentional in Alcott’s work? I don’t remember the ball scene so well from other versions of Little Women, where Meg has her Coming Out, but I quite warmed to Emily Watson in the role.

I can’t agree with Bea on the idea of Watson playing Jo instead of Saoirse Ronan. Ronan does ‘plain’ far better than I can imagine Watson managing it, and actually far more convincingly than someone like Winona Ryder, who couldn’t be plain even with the best of makeup artists…

So overall, I can only give this version of Little Women two stars, even though I know the story is a five star one.

**

Meeting Gorbachev

Seen at the Glasgow Film Theatre

Cecil says: I don't know whether it's because I saw this film on my own, without Bea to bounce thoughts off afterwards, but I felt very thoughtful after seeing this film; it made me reflect on where we are in the world and whether I could have done more to play my own part in the direction the world has taken.

Watching someone like Gorbachev and seeing the story of his life from very ordinary and fairly rural beginnings to negotiating peace deals with the US President and then overseeing the break-up of the Soviet Union, made me reflect with sadness above all at the leaders we have today.

To think that we are left with the likes of Putin, Johnson, Xi Jinping, Johnson, Morrison (FFS!!), Trump (I only leave him last because I think for once he deserves to be at the bottom of a list) is such a sad reflection of the direction we have taken since the late 80s and early 90s.

It was very moving to see how the loss of his wife so bore into the soul of Gorbachev. That more than his own political downfall seem to leave him deeply saddened and lost, though it was also amusing to hear him reflect on Yeltsin ("should have banished him to Siberia") and his opportunistic power-grab which led to the USSR falling apart.

I love Herzog's films anyway, and although his questions (and occasional commentary) are secondary to the Gorbachev narrative, the film would not be the same without Herzog's imprint.

I left the cinema thinking of that desperate line from The Year of Living Dangerously (which apparently quotes Tolstoy paraphrasing something from Luke in the Bible): "What then must we do?"

****

Van Gogh & Japan

Seen at the Kyabram Theatre, Victoria

Bea says: Having really enjoyed our last Exhibition on Screen (Claude Monet), we were delighted to find this on at the historic Kyabram cinema in regional Victoria on a Sunday afternoon. 

We travelled out there in the car, attempted to find somewhere to have lunch (not easy on a Sunday in a small town), had to forgo our afternoon cuppa for a Cornetto in the cinema, but joined about 15 others to feast our eyes and ears.  
I knew about some aspects of Van Gogh's life prior to this, but not about his interest in Japan and how it influenced his work, so there was quite a bit of new information for me. 

I also didn't know about the circumstances of his death, so that was also new.  Beautiful cinematography and the hypnotic reading of letters made this, as with our last Exhibition, a relaxing and totally absorbing, experience.

The entire series is highly recommended.

****

Cecil says: I love the way the Exhibition on Screen series allows you to enter the world (and even partly enter the mind) of the artists they portray.

I was less interested in how Japanese art influenced Van Gogh than in the general narrative about the life of this brilliant, but rather unbalanced artist.

I find it hard to relate to someone who is so influenced by a distant culture, but never had any interest in trying to travel over to see things for himself, so that was one of the most striking lines we heard from his correspondence narrated through this film.

I was fascinated by his close but volatile relationship with Gauguin, the guy he was with when he did the famous ear-cutting act in a frenzy of anger and passion. Apparently Gauguin wrote a diary with the only first-hand recounting of this episode, and I know the idea of the Exhibition series is to hear the voice of the artist through their correspondence and writings, but it would have been powerful to hear Gauguin's account narrated here too.

I had no idea Van Gogh lived in Arles for an extended period - something I wish I'd known when I visited. And nor did I know that he and his brother (another intriguing relationship the film mentioned but made me want to explore more) are both buried in a town (suburb?) very close to Paris.

I wonder what else we'll get to see from the wonderful Exhibition on Screen series down here in country Australia?

***