Anna Karenina

If there is one word most used to describe the literary works of the Russian author Leo Tolstoy, it is 'long'. His most famous novel, 'War and Peace', is over one thousand pages long and could certainly be used as an offensive weapon. Anna Karenina – at over eight hundred pages – is the latest cinematic adaptation of Tolstoy's work and stars Keira Knightley in the title role. Love her or hate her, Knightley is certainly one of the most successful British actors of recent years and seems perfectly cast as the self-destructive Anna. Shame, then, that the rest of the film is emotionally-inert.

Directed by Joe Wright (who has collaborated with Knightley on two previous films – Atonement and Pride and Prejudice), Anna Karenina is set in nineteenth-century Russian high society and sees aristocrat Anna Karenina embark on an affair with the affluent Count Vronsky (played by Aaron Taylor-Johnson). From the opening scene, it is clear that this adaptation is rather unlike Wright's previous costume dramas which have been played straight-down-the-line. Much of the action is set in a theatre and the characters weave in and out of the sets with a balletic fluidity which was very impressive. Combined with innovative editing, the theatricality of the film is both its greatest strength and weakness.

There is no doubt that Anna Karenina oozes quality. From the sets to the costumes, the exuberant mise-en-scène is both enticing and distracting. In many ways, such a theatrical approach distances the audiences from becoming emotionally-engaged with the characters and, given that this is essentially a love story, this is a problem. Things are not helped by the performances which are rather uneven and Anna's moustachioed love interest is somewhat miscast and wasn't as magnetic as he should have been. Knightley, on the other hand, settles comfortably into the role of Anna and commands the aristocratic role with confidence. Her performance is, however, difficult to engage with – as is the narrative which is hugely overshadowed by the film's theatrical nature.

Wright's decision to pursue such an extravagant tone may reflect the novel's original intention: to depict the falsity and excesses of Tsarist Russian high society. The director of photography, Seamus McGarvey, has done a fantastic job reflecting this society, where people take pleasure in seeing Anna's downfall. His lyrical camera movement was first-class and I could have quite happily watched this technical aspect of the film at the expense of the story. A dance sequence really showed his flair for dynamic camera movement and certainly impressed.

The fundamental flaw with Anna Karenina, however, is its overt theatricality. Whilst this makes the film pleasant to look at, it swamps any sense of a meaningful, emotionally-charged story. Ultimately, this should have been the film's focus and no matter how 'nice' everything looks, the vacuum left by the lack of electric performances and any sense of realism left me as emotionally cold as a Russian winter. 

Clapperboard Rating: * *

Lawless

What do Boris Johnson, Dark Shadows and new Minis all have in common? Before you start making jokes, the answer is that they have all been accused of having style over substance. John Hillcoat’s new film, Lawless, suffers from this very problem but as I left an early afternoon screening of the film, I faced a dilemma. Does extraordinary style ever negate the need for real substance? Or does the weight of a film’s screenplay dictate how stylish it can be? Writing this review, several hours after seeing Lawless, I still have no idea.

Set in Prohibition-era rural America, Lawless is an adaptation of Matt Bondurant’s 2008 novel ‘The Wettest County in the World’ and follows a trio of bootlegging brothers (Tom Hardy, Shia LaBoeuf and Jason Clarke) whose business is threatened by a new deputy (played by Guy Pearce) who is determined to bring their monopoly on moonshine to an end. Hillcoat (who directed apocalyptic thriller The Road) has certainly assembled a tour de force of a cast, with Jessica Chastain and Mia Wasikowska playing pretty girls attracted to bad men, and Gary Oldman and Guy Pearce as fantastic villains on both sides of the law.

This cast – and its performances – is certainly one of the most striking aspects of the film. I’ve never warmed to Shia LaBoeuf as an actor (nothing to do with Transformers…cough, cough) and I have always found him difficult to take seriously. But his performance as Jack, the youngest and most eager of the brothers to prove himself, was startlingly convincing and charged with an emotion which I hadn’t seen before. Tom Hardy is, well, Tom Hardy and produces an intimidating performance, made even more incredible through his ability to pull off ‘menacing outlaw’ whilst sporting several styles of cardigan. Guy Pearce, however, steals the show and is fantastic in his role as the villainous deputy. The female roles, on the other hand, felt very under-developed and it was a real shame to see Chastain and Wasikowska being sidelined in favour of a more macho plot and even the terrific Gary Oldman seemed to be a mere token.

The screenplay obviously aimed for a greatness which it sadly never achieved. The dialogue was unmemorable and the plot and its development felt rather average, a disappointment considering its basis in fact. Despite its graphic violence (and trust me, this film is as violent as your mother-in-law when you tell her the gin has all gone), I felt that the screenplay was far too safe and straight down the line for any real brilliance to shine through. These issues aside, Lawless truly excels in terms of style and beautiful cinematography. The set pieces are theatrical, the locations vivid and the whole mise-en-scène feels rich and exciting, if a little too glossy.

Lawless isn’t as intoxicating as it wants to be and falls into the old ‘style over substance’ category. Its style is enough to carry what is still an entertaining and enjoyable watch. Ultimately, however, the film’s vacuous nature overshadows some terrific performances and the effect of the moonshine soon wears off.   

Clapperboard Rating: * * *