The Revenant

This review was first published by The Student Pocket Guide

The main question on everyone's lips at the moment seems to be “will Leo finally win an Oscar?!”. In the past, DiCaprio has been nominated for six Academy Awards and has won...well, none. But all that might be about to change thanks to his latest film, The Revenant which is as brutal and intense as films come.

Just in case you were wondering, the word “revenant” is a noun meaning a person who returns after a length absence. Now we've cleared that up, on to the film inspired by the (supposedly) true story of Hugh Glass, a nineteenth-century fur trapper who was attacked by a bear and left for dead by his companions in the wilderness of the American Frontier. In the film, Glass (DiCaprio) is bent on avenging the death of his son who is killed by John Fitzgerald, one of his fellow explorers (Tom Hardy), and drags himself – quite literally – over some 200 miles in search of safety and revenge.

In essence, what you have here is Bear Grylls meets Touching the Void, with a large dose of confronting violence and harsh, unforgiving landscapes. Directed by Mexican film-maker Alejandro González Iñárritu, The Revenant has become notorious in the media for its punishing schedule, spiralling budget, unpleasant shooting conditions and Iñárritu unflinching pursuit of the film he envisioned in his mind. DiCaprio's commitment to the role (which included sleeping in a dead animal carcass, eating raw bison liver and enduring prolonged exposure to cold locations in Canada and Argentina) is unflinching and almost defiant: at one point, he looks directly at the camera as if to say “what more can I do for that Oscar?”.

Iñárritu and cinematographer Emmanuel Lubezki have done a fantastic job of transporting the audience from the warm comfort of their cinema seats and placing them in the bitter, cruel cold of the American Frontier – a land dominated by snow, ice and imposing mountains. The success of this immersive experience is down to several factors. From the very beginning, Lubezki's camera scythes through the landscape in an apparent single-take, a technique which comes into its own in the sequence which sees Glass come under attack from a grizzly. My toes genuinely curled during the encounter and I would wholeheartedly believe you if you told me Leo was attacked by a real bear.

From a technical perspective, Lubezki's eye for capturing the natural landscape in all its majestic and intimidating glory is astounding (the majority of the film was shot using natural light) and he allows the camera to approach the actors' faces in tight close-up. The camera gets so close, in fact, that their breath fogs the camera lens – usually something which shatters the cinematic spell. In this case, however, it only serves to drag the audience in closer with the characters, experiencing their pain and suffering. From plunging down icy rivers, to weathering snow storms and horrendous wounds, the plight of Glass is not just presented to the audience, it conscripts them into involvement.

Iñárritu has a considered sense of narrative pacing which works well to fully-involve the audience. At 2 hours, 36 minutes, it is a long film. But this running time rarely feels indulgent: the beautiful cinematography and assured performances prevent that. DiCaprio's hurt, anguish and determination is compelling to watch, and Tom Hardy's gruff and self-serving Fitzgerald fits well with the supporting cast of other British and Irish actors (Domhnall Gleeson as a by-the-book army Captain and Will Poulter as an impressionable young fur-trapper).

The film's depiction of violence – both from animals and from encounters with the Native Indian population – is uncompromising and graphic. It does, however, fit well with the stark reality of the film. America in 1823 was a violent place, and man was frequently at the mercy of the elements. The denouement between Glass and Fitzgerald had me flinching and gripping my seat with anticipation as those long takes refused to let the audience go from their icy grip.

The Revenant is bold, shocking and committed film-making. I left the cinema feeling exhausted and convinced that Leo deserves that Oscar. There's really nothing more he can do.

Clapperboard Rating: * * * * *

Joy

It is testament to Jennifer Lawrence's star power that she can be glorious whilst selling mops. These mops, however, are not any ordinary household cleaning implement: they are the 'Miracle Mops', invented by real-life single mother Joy Mangano who made a fortune selling them on the QVC shopping channel. Not the most compelling true story for screenwriter Annie Mumolo and director David O. Russell to tackle, but in Joy, their efforts result in a strange combination of surreal drama, the occasional laugh and fleeting moments of heartfelt emotion.

Joy is not, of course, the first film which brings together Jennifer Lawrence with David O. Russell. Nor is it, indeed, her first time acting opposite Bradley Cooper and Robert De Niro (both starred alongside her in Silver Linings Playbook). Lawrence plays Joy, who is struggling to find happiness and satisfaction in her life, largely as a result of her dysfunctional family. Her invalid mother (Virginia Madsen) stays in bed all day watching soap operas, whilst Joy's ex-husband (played by Édgar Ramírez) lives in the basement of her house. Her hapless divorced father (De Niro, in the slightly eccentric paternal role in which he seems to be typecast nowadays) returns to the domestic mix, also temporarily moving in to the basement after splitting with his most recent partner. Only Joy's grandmother Mimi (Diane Ladd) and best friend Jackie (Dascha Polanco) seem to act as encouraging voices of sanity.

Compelled to make more of her life and, in many ways, to disprove those (including her parents) who said she should be content with banal domesticity for the rest of her life, Joy invents a self-wringing mop after a mishap with red wine and broken glass on her dad's latest lover's yacht. This plot – a story of invention and self re-invention – works well, leaving the audience satisfied as Joy takes on the male-dominated corporate world and transforms her life. But this fulfilment in narrative terms is eclipsed by the film's tone which is, quite frankly, all over the place.

David O. Russell's direction is as confused as it is full of ideas. The dissatisfaction with life which Joy feels is established early on through the bizarre behaviour of her family and much of the film's beginning is punctuated with rather surreal sequences in which Joy finds herself trapped in her mother's soap operas. By the film's end, however, this rather kooky tone is lost as Lawrence struts down the road after a successful business deal, sunglasses on and ready to tackle the world of domestic cleaning.

The screenplay is peppered with humorous moments but it doesn't develop as a comedy – which it certainly could have done with Lawrence's comedic flair. Neither is it, however, a straight-down-the-line drama. Instead, the film floats about between reality and unreality, playing with ideas but never fully-engaging with the emotions it seeks to interrogate. Instead, it navigates its themes of family, business and success without settling on what any of it actually means. Joy's story, whilst transformative on a personal level, leaves the rest of us a little disengaged with proceedings.

That said, the performances are great: Bradley Cooper, as a QVC executive, does well and Jennifer Lawrence is her usual brilliant self as she attempts to anchor the film's disparate elements. Her face magnetises the camera and allows the audience to empathise with her character's situation, even if not with the film as a whole. But despite her star power, the film feels too uneven to create emotional coherency with its audience, something which it needs desperately, given that its subject isn't the most exciting in the world.

Joy has individual scenes which are touching and emotionally-charged. Lawrence is, as ever, fantastic, and there's certainly a message of morality to be found. But I can't help feeling that audiences will leave the cinema confused. Perhaps a repeat viewing is required, but Joy is far from the joyous New Year film which many will be expecting.

Clapperboard Rating: * * *