The Time Traveler's Wife

Bea says: I was keen to see this as I had very much enjoyed the book (although enjoying a book certainly doesn't always make for an enjoyable film), and in fact had thought at the time of reading Audrey Niffeneger's novel that it would make a good film. This adaptation is relatively true to the original story, although noticeably less dark, which I felt was a shame as the darkness of the book casts the potential soppiness - for want of a better word - of the love story into relief; the film loses much of this contrast. Neither lead actor was particularly familiar to me, although they both carried their parts off well, and the potential pitfalls of the disappearing, time travelling husband were avoided: as in the book, it becomes totally believable. I might have thought this was really good, if I hadn't watched The Curious Case of Benjamin Button recently (on the plane journey home from Australia), which deals with a similar theme so much better, and so much more beautifully.
***

Cecil says: My main problem for the first half hour was distinguishing between the 'really old' guy in his mid-30s and the apparently younger guy of the moment, who must have been - ooh, let's see - 25. They apparently put grey highlights through the older guy's hair but blow me if you can tell the difference; so I had no idea really if she married the man she was supposed to or the time-travelling oldie.

OK, continuity apart, this film has a nice story and the film kept me happily entertained for an hour and a half, without ever feeling any real affinity or involvement with the characters. I must admit I struggle to engage with this kind of 'what if' scenario. Bit like Back to the Future or Doctor Who - can be rip-roaring stuff, but not a lot of meaning...

I did reflect on one incident, however, as it had an echo of something very personal and painful from my own experience in the last few months. How often in life do you know deep down that this is the last time you will ever see a person? or that they are about to die? It happens in The Time Traveler's Wife and it happened to me 6 weeks ago at the bedside of my father as I left him to return to London for the last time before he died. Unimaginably difficult moments in one's life which you hope will never happen again. So, yes, this scene did bring a tear to my eyes, but I'm not sure it would have been the weepie film it was billed as if it had not been for my recent personal experience.

***

Coco before Chanel

Bea says: Another film seen at the wonderful Colloroy cinema in Sydney, at 12.30 in the afternoon (bliss!) after a bracing swim in the Colloroy rock pool. I will make no bones about the fact that I love clothes and fashion, so was thrilled when Cecil suggested this one. Despite being a dedicated follower of the fashion world though, I realised as I watched this film that I knew next to nothing about Coco Chanel. I did not know that she had been abandoned as a child and brought up in an orphanage (where the nuns taught her to sew beautifully), I didn't know she had made a living singing in bars with her sister, or that she had been forced by circumstance to throw herself on the mercy of a wealthy man, who took her in as his mistress, all before being supported by another man to move to Paris and begin her fledging hat and clothing business.





But aside from a riveting story, and the beautiful and striking clothes - everything worn by Chanel could easily be worn today, and reminded me of a piece of dressing advice I once read by her (and which I follow): "before you go out, take one thing off" - this was nicely written, well executed, and lovely to watch. The always good Audrey Tatou played a star turn in the leading role, and Alessandro Nivola puts in a solid performance as "Boy". My only gripes - Chanel came across as a little precious at times, and I guessed the outcome of Chanel and Boy's relationship before it happened.





A very enjoyable afternoon.


***





Cecil says: I love the fact that a small arthouse cinema across the road from a surf beach in Sydney can show this film 4 weeks before it hits London's cinemas. Testing the audience in other parts of the world? If so, it's a particular cross-section of Australian society who pitched up to watch this with us for the matinee. I was the only man in the cinema - apart from the guy in the projection room; and the rest of the audience? 12 ladies, average age 65 - where did they all appear from??? Anyway, it made Bea and me the odd couple in the place.



Now, I'm not a great connoisseur of women's fashion, but I can tell when something really is awful and have quite a good eye for a stylish outfit. It's true that the fashion when Chanel started up was ridiculous: hats with bowls of fruit on top of them and other flouncy dresses and accoutrements so in that sense it was pretty easy to be revolutionary and keep things dramatically simple, as Chanel did. But actually I don't particularly like the style myself - a bit too boyish and plain for my liking, but hey, we aren't here to comment on fashion taste, but on film...

I must say I didn't really warm to any of the characters: the wealthy ex-officer from the French nobility, weary of his social obligations, playing with the young urchin from a provincial singing duo; the dashing young English businessman, a bit too business-like and so, you know, English!; and Coco Chanel herself, cute on one level, with her aspirations to make it on the Paris stage, but actually exploiting the noble officer's inability to throw her out. I didn't feel an enormous amount of sympathy for her really and since I also didn't much like the clothes, there was not a lot for me in this film.

I couldn't help feeling there was an undercurrent admiring the French for either knowing how to behave in society, or knowing how to rebel; while the English are really only interested in business, making money and driving fast cars, with love coming a poor 4th. Well, it's true, you might say. But is it????

**.5

Is anybody there?

Cecil says: A return to our favourite Sydney cinema up by Collaroy beach on the north shore to see this low-budget UK film with Michael Caine playing a grumpy old man, a former magician, who signs himself into one of those care homes for the elderly.

Let's discuss the cinema first, before we get to the film. This amazing 1930s building just over the road from one of the best surf beaches in Sydney plays about the best programme of mainly independent films you can get anyway in the Sydney area. Its internal decor smacks of neglected English seaside resorts - wonderful old seats, chandeliers all over the place, a magnificent stage - but you know for sure that in every English resort such a building has now become an amusement arcade or a bingo hall.

The scandal is that this cinema does little or nothing to promote itself. Yes, it has wonderful films on show, but this Caine film played to an audience of 4: in fact the main film had started before Bea and I were joined by another couple. Take a look at its website, though ( www.unitedcinemas.com.au ) and you see nothing about the history and character of this fantastic cinema. Where are the archive pictures of great moments in its history? What about a decade by decade slide show of great films they have screened ? Or the changing audiences ? Or the changing decor - were there ever changes? Somebody must love this cinema enough to keep it open for such small audiences - shouldn't they open a Friends of Collaroy group to get worldwide attention on this marvel before it really does collapse in a pile of rubble... Take heed Collaroy - Cecil and Bea would be founder members...

So, to this film: a nice portrayal of a 1980s family struggling to make ends meet by converting their house into a care home for the elderly; the young teenage son fed up because he has had to give up his bedroom to a succession of ga-ga geriatrics; and the old magician (Caine) who pitches up one day in his magician's truck and gradually warms to the place and the people in it after his initial despair at the senile oldies around him.

Coming from East Yorkshire, I found some of the production (or director's?) choices slightly odd. The screenplay was obviously written for a care home somewhere near the coast and near Hull (Cecil's birthplace). They managed to have a bus to Hull in the film; they referred to Skidby windmill (one of the local landmarks), but the scenry was so unlike anything near to Hull and the nearby beach resort was nothing like anything on the East coast of Yorkshire. Even the accents in the local school were wrong (West Yorkshire, I think, but certainly not Hull accents) - I mean, if you're going to do a film set in Hull, why film it in Kent? And why not check up on local accents? Might seem a bit pedantic to non-locals, but did jar with me throughout the film. Isn't the Hull area good enough for filming in?????
** 1/2

Bea says:
I enjoyed the experience of seeing this film, but actually think it was overall somewhat forgettable (just demonstrated here at the Cecil and Bea residence by me asking Cecil which other film we saw in Australia when he suggested blogging the "first"... I remembered the other one all right - soon to be blogged). Michael Caine is like a brilliant spot of colour in the otherwise dreary, dull existance of this family, in the (supposed) north of England in the 1980s. And he really is brilliant in what he does with the dialogue, the spaces he occupies, and the decline he portrays. The other (well regarded) actors pale somewhat in comparison. I wasn't overly keen on the too-neat ending, although it did add to the film's feel-good vibe, and it was this ending, in fact, which made the film forgettable for me. However, a pleasant diversion.
** 1/2

Cecil adds: The film was actually more poignant for me because, just 3 weeks earlier, I had spent a distressing Saturday driving round the country roads north and west of Hull (yes, we did drive past Skidby windmill!) looking for a care home for my own Dad. There can be nothing more soul-destroying for an elderly person who needs constant care, but is of sound mind and has full mental capacities, than to be left in a home where your welcome at the front door is the crazed yellings and screeches of the residents who have basically lost their marbles. And why do the staff of homes like these have to shout in such ever-jolly voices to these old folk as if they were 2-year olds barely out of nappies? Maybe because senility takes you back to a child-like state, but surely there can be more decorum and respect; and voices can be pitched at normal adult register? We certainly saw one home rather like the one depicted in 'Is anybody there?' and for all the difficulties my Dad has had in the home we chose ultimately, I'm sure his experience would have been far far worse in a home like that.

The Young Victoria

Bea says:

Sunday was Mother's Day in Australia, and on this rare occasion, I have my mother and sister here with me in London. So on Sunday I took them both up to the Apollo Cinema in Piccadilly, and we saw The Young Victoria, as a Mother's Day treat. Regular readers will know that I love a historical costume drama, as does my mother, and we both loved this. My sister is made of less sentimental stuff, but even she was won over. I'd had reservations about this film - it has had almost unanimously poor reviews, but after seeing it, I think entirely undeservedly. It documents Victoria's life in detail shortly prior to her coronation, and for about four years after, including her relationship with Albert, and Lord Melbourne. I knew little about this time in her life, and she made an interesting and spirited heroine, and was very well played. Rupert Friend also performed well as Albert. The film was gripping - afterwards over a coffee we all commented on how quickly the time had passed in the cinema.

However what I appreciated the most was not the telling of the story of Victoria's early years on the throne, but the carefully rounded characterisation of all the key characters - the many complexities and flaws of human nature were well drawn, as were the complications and also the endurance of family ties and other close relationships. Victoria's relationship with her mother, her nurse/governess, Albert, and Lord Melbourne all made for fascinating viewing as these relationships changed, grew, developed, became closer or more distant as the years went on. No character was completely likable, none completely unlikable.

A film with much unappreciated depth. I am glad I saw it.

***

Cheri

Cecil says: A glitzy premiere, with red carpets, flashing cameras and gorgeous lead actors. What could go wrong with such an occasion? Well, the first odd thing is that, for a film being premiered at the Institut Francais, based on a novel by Colette and set in Paris, there was a complete absence of French, through the whole evening. Not a word of French on the screen; not a word in French during the Q&A afterwards. The director, Stephen Frears, even confessed that he doesn't speak a word of the language; and the writer, Christopher Hampton, made the strange remark that he had started out with the idea of writing a biopic on Colette herself. So, how and why did he then embark on a screenplay of one of her novels instead? We never found out, but perhaps that is at the root of a sense of emptiness that runs through the film.

Sure, the characters are in a sense empty shells themselves: Michelle Pfeifer, the ageing (at 32!) courtesan determined not to fall in love with Rupert Friend, the young dandy, seven years her junior, who plays at love but gets himself paired off in an arranged marriage. And the whole story is set at the end of the 'Belle Epoque', with a sense of an era drawing to a close and running out of steam. Maybe it's meant to come across as sterile and fading, but it's very hard to engage with characters who have no real...character! Rupert Friend himself said in the Q&A how hard it had been to play the role of such a passive male; of how he had struggled to get any sense of the person he was supposed to be portraying.

Michelle Pfeifer is the best thing about this film, though. Not only her personality, which dominates proceedings through the plot, but her presence on the screen; her diction is perfect and is the one reason why I'm glad the film was in English rather than French - I could listen to her for hours and sit transfixed. But it's a shame Bea wasn't able to join me this time: it's the sort of film where you get the impression a male and female perspective on it would be bound to be different; not necessarily contradicting, but somehow complementary, and it makes my views on the film seem somehow incomplete.

I didn't particularly enjoy the film, but was it, in the words of one viewer I overheard afterwards, really "a film for women"? Without Bea being there, I'll never know...All I can say is that I would like to read the book now, to see how far Frears/Hampton kept to the heart of the story.

I can't end this entry without a comment on the audience again (I know, we are becoming as much people-watchers as film viewers these days). It was fascinating to see the cameras flashing desperately as soon as the young English actress arrived at the Institut. I'm afraid I can't even remember her name and her role is a bit-part compared to Pfeiffer, but the adulation via the lens gave the impression she must be THE star of the movie; I loved the gooey-eyed and adoring cluster of young women who interviewed Rupert Friend ahead of the screening: they were hanging on his every word, but was it his looks or what he had to say? does it matter, if you adore someone that much?

And finally, what is it about the film industry that seems to attract men in the 60s with long hair and wearing black shirts. Now, those of you who know how little hair I have might put this down to jealousy, but black shirts??? Come on!

**.5

In the Loop

Cecil says: We saw this film a week ago at the Ritzy in Brixton and I've already forgotten nearly everything about it. Yes, it really was forgettable, and I have to say I agree with what Michael Portillo is reported as having said about it: boring! But I went into the Ritzy so full of enthusiasm because I enjoyed "The Thick of It" so much, so where on earth did it all go wrong?

Well, first up, it was too long. 'The Thick of It' easily sustained an idea for length of a TV episode with its clever humour and sharp observations, cringingly familiar to anyone working in a civil service press office. In the Loop just felt like a long, very long, TV programme. Sure, I laughed at some of the one-liners, but as the film dragged on, it just became a cliche.

The characters are all caricatures of those spineless, unprincipled politicians we all love to hate. The swearing, funny at first, just gets boring and plain aggressive to the point where I stopped laughing and began to yawn. And of course, the plot is a re-run of the the old 'Weapons of Mass Destruction' story before the Iraq war, fantastic for the audience in the Ritzy, but it just felt tired and more-of-the-same to me.

And that brings me to the audience at the Ritzy: what is it about Brixton, where the majority of faces on the High Street are black, but 90% of the faces in the Ritzy are white, and it's that good leftie right-on 'white' that maybe I used to be too 25 years ago...

After the film, we were honoured to have a Q&A with the Director, Armando Iannucci. Oh dear, oh dear. The more I heard him, the more I hated the film; and the more I heard the audience questions, the more I despised both the film and the people around me. Yes, this was fast becoming a real ordeal for a Saturday night out!

But, why??? Well Ianucci seemed so smug. So sure of his future in films. And so glibly dismissive of those unethical politicians. And the audience lapped it up.

At one point Iannucci mockingly describes how they filmed at Number 10, and how everyone there was in awe of the film-stars; in another answer, he mocks the politicians who are so unsure of themselves that they actually ask people around them how their speech went down. So, hear this Iannucci: politicians are human beings with the same emotions and needs for self-confirmation that we all have. The problem in this crazy world we live in is that people look up to celebrities rather than political leaders; you might say that is because of the poor quality of the politicians; I would say it is something shallow and false in our society and it breeds cynicism rather than passion.

All I could think about by the end of the evening was: this is a caricature of both people and events; this is precisely the kind of film which just adds to the current prejudice and fashion for believing that all politicians are the same, so in that respect I despise it for playing to the tabloid media agenda and basically in the long run undermining democracy through their cynicism (even though, I'm sure. Iannucci himself - and the audience - would say that they are the ones trying to make democracy better...)

No, this was awful. And so disappointing. Will I ever be able to watch 'In the Thick of It' again?

*

Bea says: In fact, we nearly didn't see this film at all - we arrived at the Ritzy just in time to buy tickets and rush in, to find it sold out. The only other film on at that time was The Damned United, which I was prepared to see instead, but Cecil gallantly felt would to foisting too much football upon me. With only a little arm-twisting however, he acquiesced, and we went to the ticket counter to buy our tickets. "Of course, we were planning to see In the Loop" said ever-chatty Cecil to the ticket girl. "Really?" she replied, "as it happens I have two spaces left". After the film, we both agreed The Damned United would have been a better choice...

Oh, it was diverting enough - like a very long TV programme. I chuckled here and there. The young man next to me laughed uproariously - at completely different moments. It's always weird when that happens. But - and there are a lot of buts - it was overlong (like a lot of films these days - whatever happened to the cutting room floor??), it wasn't funny enough, not cleverly funny I mean, there was much too much reliance on cheap swearing humour - which can be funny sometimes, but is basically a cop out. Some of the humour, particularly that directed towards Gina McKee's character - was just crass, like some of the worst stand up I've seen. Like Cecil, I'm a little bored by plots based on the whole Weapons of Mass Destruction thing, if they fail to examine the issue in depth. The whole thing was forgettable, and actually left a bad taste in my mouth - so depressingly cynical.

The Q&A session got on my nerves too, partly because I hadn't been expecting it, the film had been overlong anyway, and I wanted to leave to go out to dinner as it was past 9 and I was hungry; partly because I could see steam coming out of Cecil's ears, but mostly because the director, who had made this film about, as Cecil says, spineless and unprincipled politicans, was asked about the former star character of In the Thick of It, who had a very public fall from grace. In reply he said, "well, in this risk-averse climate at the BBC I couldn't possibly have him on the show again. But I love his work, I'd love to work with him again..." All I can do is echo Cecil - oh dear, oh dear, oh dear.
*

The Class - "Entre les Murs"

Bea says: We have been caught up in busy lives and have been remiss about seeing films and blogging, but we took advantage of the long Easter weekend and took ourselves off to the Renoir in Bloomsbury to see this much commended French film. A teacher/pupil film, it refreshingly defies the standard formula (inspirational teacher wins students over with catchphrase such as carpe diem, or Bob Dylan lyrics etc etc) and simply shows the ups and downs in the school lives of a teacher and his students - the students are mostly challenging, although occasionally a chink of something else shines through, and the teacher is usually quite good although he gets tired and worn out, and makes mistakes. It's a very real film - it reminded me both of my own school days in a very average comprehensive in a working class neighbourhood with lots of students (myself included) who were the children of migrants, and it struck a lot of chords with my current teaching role, although that is also different in many ways. At the end, everyone has survived the school year bar one pupil. Life goes on. I liked the message.
***

Cecil says: Language is a big part of this film. And let's begin with the title: for me, the French title ('Between the walls') captures the essence of the film far more than the English. The furthest we get from the classroom walls is the playground; we get no sense of any of the characters' lives outside the school - the teacher manages to glean a little information from his pupils through a 'self-portrait' exercise, but for the rest the focus is totally on the intensity and relentlessness of the classroom relationship. The camera work adds to that constant 'in-yer-face' feel, with lots of close-ups and that active, fly-on-the-wall style we associate with so much reality TV these days.

Language is also important because the main character is the French teacher, who uses wonderful methods to try to throw light on some of the words his students don't understand, especially with half his class being non-native speakers. But that's also why I had a problem with the cause of the main conflict between the teacher and his class: he loosely uses an insulting word 'petasse' to describe two of the girls, but for someone with such a feel for language, it is hard to believe he would have opted for this expression in the circumstances (and by the way, where did the subtitler get that word 'skank' from ? Presumably American, it is not even in my Oxford English dictionary...).

For me personally, the film took me back to my days as a language assistant in France 30 years ago (oh my God!!) in a high school; and 26 years ago in a Paris university. My school in the industrial north of France was basically white, working class so had little in common with the class in the film. The flickers of recognition came for me in the staff room morning handshake (yes, you really do have to go round every teacher in the morning and shake their hand) and in the whole structure of head-teacher and admin committee, though I think the concept of student participation in such things may have developed in the last 30 years.

My Paris university teaching experience gave more of a hint of the reality we see in this film. Far more multi-ethnic classes, but the difference being that my students had made it to higher education. It was amusing to see the teacher's problems over the use of names like 'Bill' - the students asked him to use more common names like 'Khoumba' or 'Souleymane', and I can well remember my innocence and ignorance when half my class in 1983 had similar names reflecting their ethnic origins - all quite usual now, but catching me by surprise at the time.

All in all, this as a gripping film - two hours flies by. It is very intense, however, and never lets you relax for more than five minutes. So don't go and see it for light entertainment. Having said that, I thoroughly recommend it...

***1/2