We Need To Talk About Kevin

Some things in life are scary. That creaking floorboard you hear in the middle of the night. The moment you realise you've forgotten to do your homework. The first time you meet your future in-laws. Gordon Brown's smile. All of these can instil fear into the hearts of even the toughest men. And yet, nothing quite compares to the terror of parenthood. Now, I don't mean the normal apprehension of 'will I be a good mother' or the worry that 'Cordelia's little one has already begun to play the piano and my Jack can't even walk yet'. I mean the fear of not connecting with your child, of not bonding with them, or, heaven forbid, not loving them. We Need To Talk About Kevin addresses this issue head on and, in doing so, becomes one of the best films this year.

Directed by Lynne Ramsay and based upon the best-selling book by Lionel Shriver, We Need To Talk About Kevin follows the life of Eva (Tilda Swinton) who, after giving up her career to have Kevin (Ezra Miller), fails to bond with her child and becomes increasingly alienated from him. When Kevin commits a terrible crime at his high-school, Eva's life falls apart and she holds herself responsible for his actions and tries to come to terms with her grief and her ever-growing guilt. First off, this film is a tough watch. From the moment it starts to the moment the credits roll, the film grabs you emotionally and doesn't let you go. Indeed, for days after watching it, it will still hold you in its powerful grip. The film most definitely belongs to Swinton and she commands the screen with a haunting and tormented presence which is both beautiful and disturbing. Ramsay's and fellow screenwriter Rory Kinnear's adaptation of the book gave Swinton the room and scope to give a performance which is one of her best to date. The way in which she carried herself throughout the film made the character of Eva all the more believable and demonstrates what a brilliant actress she is. A strong supporting performance from John C. Reilly as Eva's husband made the film all the more enjoyable and Miller's Kevin captured perfectly a psychologically-disturbed teenager, seemingly with no redeeming qualities.

Another stand-out feature of the film was the way in which it was shot. Bordering on an art-house style, the cinematography was immensely striking and the sound design was very effective (Ramsay places great thought into the sound of her films). Never before has a garden sprinkler sounded so threatening. Visually, the colour red seemed to permeate through the film as though the camera itself had been contaminated by Kevin's actions and this made it all the more unsettling to watch. The tight camera framing reflected the sense of entrapment that Eva felt and allowed Swinton's distinctive facial features to show a thousand emotions in one moment. Kevin's relationship with his mother is, of course, an integral part of the film and superb script-writing and dialogue highlighted this struggle. Even as a toddler, Kevin is in total control of his mother and, although at times I was willing Eva to be more defiant in her treatment of Kevin, it is impossible not to find sympathy for her and her situation. The clever use of flashbacks carried the narrative forward and made the events of 'now' even more effective (for example, when Eva has to hide in the supermarket from the mother of one of Kevin's victims). Such scenes demonstrate what film-making is all about: creating a connection with the audience that can't be found anywhere else.

And so, as I reflect on We Need To Talk About Kevin, I'm left with a question. Was it entertaining? It almost seems inappropriate to use language such as 'entertaining' about a film which is so dark, so disturbing and so thought-provoking. It would be like saying people become undertakers 'for a laugh'. But the more I think about the engaging plot, the first-class acting and the atmospheric cinematography and lighting, the more I think yes, it is entertaining. After all, you're not going to pay the best part of a tenner to be bored are you? But I feel no review can do the film justice. We Need To Talk About Kevin is film-making at its finest and it is a film that you need to see. Then, and only then, can you talk about Kevin. 

Clapperboard Rating: * * * * * 

Johnny English Reborn

I never know which is better: to see something you've been looking forward to and for it to disappoint you, or to never see that something and to hold a happy idea in your head of what it would be like. To be honest, I wish I had never set foot in the screening of Johnny English Reborn. I wish I hadn't had all my positive thoughts about it shattered more quickly than a Currys window during the Summer Riots. I wish I had left that cinema the moment I was asked to pay £7.30 for the privilege of watching a dreary and predictable re-hash of something which had been done before but so, so much better. They say hindsight is a wonderful thing...

Johnny English Reborn follows a similar premise to the first film, Johnny English, which was released all the way back in 2003. Having been expelled from MI7 following a bungled security operation, the misfit spy Johnny English (Rowan Atkinson) is recalled to help track down and stop a group of international assassins, intent on killing the Chinese Premier. So, pretty standard spy/espionage stuff and, to a certain extent, it worked. Atkinson's skill in comedic timing and facial expressions helped keep the film from slowly sinking to the depths of total banality and the humour did make me chuckle a fair few times. And yet, it was this humour which was one of the main problems with the film: it could have been so much funnier. Jokes were drawn-out, over-played and I couldn't help thinking that the writers had thought of some of the set-ups as they were doing the school run and listening to Thought For the Day on Radio 4. The joke set-ups were so obvious and predictable that I found myself wondering why the middle-aged man sat next to me found everything so hilariously funny. Not even a canned-laughter audience would have laughed as much as he did. It's a real shame because, as I have already said, certain bits were genuinely funny. But these glimpses of what could have been were overshadowed by the run-of-the-mill trash which would have been more suited to the clown at a children's birthday party.

The predictable plot could have been written in a GCSE media studies class and the overall narrative lacked a drive and sense of purpose, with scenes seeming to exist on their own, rather than fitting in to an cohesive scheme. And don't get me started on some of the acting. Not since you assembled that Ikea wardrobe have you seen anything more wooden (I am thinking in particular of the MI7 boss played by Gillian Anderson). It was not an Oscar-winning performance. However, Atkinson's talent for physical comedy redeemed some of the other performances but even his efforts were slightly disappointing and a bit flat. Actually, you know what, that's the word I would use to describe the whole film. Flat. The script was flat, the acting was flat, the jokes were flat and the action was flat. In fact, the film could have been made in the Netherlands. It could have been so much better. It should have been so much better. I had had such high hopes for Johnny English Reborn but walking out of the cinema I just felt let down. If you do want to see it, watch the trailer because it's one of those trailers where all the funny bits have been used. Think of it as the comedy highlights. Despite all this, a young audience will find it funny and I'm sure it will take a load of money at the box office, but I wish I hadn't seen it. Ignorance, it would seem, really is bliss. 

Clapperboard Rating: * *

Midnight In Paris

Paris. 2010. A man, Gil, wanders the streets aimlessly. He is lost and slightly drunk, but fully relaxed and untroubled. He loves Paris at night. He stops on the corner of a street. A nearby church chimes midnight and a car is heard approaching. The man turns to see an old, vintage Landaulet 184 round the corner and drive towards him. It stops. A beat. The door opens and a man, dressed superbly in a fine jacket with a glass of some expensive champagne beckons to him to get in the car. He speaks in French and Gil doesn't understand. The man in the car insists and Gil yields, climbing somewhat awkwardly into the car. We see the car pull away slowly, down the street and into the magical night of Paris.

And so could read the screenplay for Woody Allen's latest film Midnight in Paris. It describes itself as a comedy/romance/fantasy and follows a young American couple on holiday in Paris. Gil (Owen Wilson) is a successful Hollywood writer and is trying to finish his first novel. When his fiancée Inez (the enchanting Rachel McAdams) goes dancing with friends one evening, Gil takes to walking around the city at night and falls in love with it. But in doing so, he discovers something strange and magical which makes him fall even more for the city but which wrenches him further from his future wife. First off, the Paris portrayed in the film is so American that you could pick it up, drop it in Florida and fool the locals that it was a new theme park. This is not to say that Allen hasn't attempted to capture the beauty of Paris (the opening shots did this very well) but this is eclipsed by the focus on the clichés of Paris which adorn so many a postcard. Gil hasn't fallen in love with Paris. He's fallen in love with the tourist veneer of Paris. It would have been nice to have seen the other, slightly darker, side of Paris, even for just a moment and I felt that the whole portrayal of the city was just a bit too Hollywood. Maybe I'm missing the point. This is meant to be a rom-com, not a social realist film. But even in that department, it seemed to be slightly half-hearted. Sure, there were some funny moments but these were few and far between and the comedic element in general was a bit underwhelming and flat.

Now, to the positives. The film is shot in a beautiful soft light and Allen certainly knows how to create a mise-en-scène (even if it is a bit too Disney at times). Having just slated the script for its absence of real comedy, I will commend it on its treatment of ideas, specifically its approach to the idea of harking back to a different time. Allen has skillfully addressed the idea that 'things were always better in the past' and that the characters are never fully happy in the time in which they live even though, to others, it is the perfect time to be alive. It is quite difficult to talk about this further without giving away plot spoilers, a bit like explaining the story of Titanic to someone whilst trying to avoid the fact that, yes, it does sink in the end. The attention to detail and high production values made the film a treat to watch and I was quite happy to just sit there and take it all in. Now, there is no doubt that the film is silly (or, if I were writing in some high-brow publication, surreal in its immutable treatment of transcendent human emotions). Yeah, let's stick with silly. But, if you're willing to go along with this, it really does start to work. The ideas, the plot and the location all begin to fit together and make for, ultimately, a satisfying film which is both light-hearted and fluffy. The ending is rather strange and sudden and may not appeal to everyone but in general, the film carries itself very well. A cameo by Carla Bruni may raise a few eyebrows and Michael Sheen's American accent is, well, interesting to say the least, but it is the film's sentimentality, its nostalgic and, in some cases, charming, look at the present and past which makes this a film worth a watch. Oh, and if you're learning English from this film, Parisian is not pronounced like friesian (as in cow). Just saying.

Clapperboard Rating: * * *

Drive

I've never really liked excessive gore. Loyal readers who have read my Final Destination 5 review will know that by now. It's not that I'm squeamish or offended by brain matter being splattered against a bathroom wall or someone's eyes being gouged out with little more than a rusty teaspoon. I just find it unnecessary. Some of the best cinematic violence has occurred off-screen and becomes all the more effective when it is implied and the audience interprets it in its own way. When I was looking for a film to review this week, I decided to throw caution to the wind and pick a film at random, without researching it or hearing anything about it previously. I happened upon Drive, an action/crime thriller about a film stunt driver who, in his spare time, drives get-away vehicles for various robberies. However, when he gets involved in a heist which goes badly wrong, he soon finds himself the target of a criminal gang. Rated 18, the film is very violent and, as the BBFC puts it 'the strongest gory images...are at times accompanied by an emphasis on the infliction of pain and injury'. Nice. However, it would be unfair to let the violence dominate the film as there are several interesting points about it.

Directed by Nicolas Winding Refn and starring Ryan Gosling as the Driver and Carey Mulligan as his love interest, Drive demonstrates Hollywood's attempts in recent years to try and make action films which are more meaty in terms of narrative and moralistic themes. In a way, Drive succeeds in this. One of the stand-out features of the film is the dialogue or, perhaps, the lack of it. Whilst watching the film, I became very aware of the fact that the characters said very little to each other, instead using facial expressions and body language to communicate meaning. Winding Refn's direction and choice to use the awkward smiles between the Driver and Mulligan's character Irene as a replacement for words worked wonderfully and helped to highlight the tension between them. At times, I felt myself willing Gosling to at least say something rather than standing there as if he were at a family reunion making awkward conversation with his great aunt. And yet, this use of visuals to tell a story rather than have a character explain every plot point was very refreshing. I liked the overall feel of the film as well: the cinematography during the robbery sequences really added to the sense of unease and shots of Gosling simply driving provided a brilliant counterpoint to the crazy action of his day-to-day life.

The soundtrack of Drive is worth a mention and, again, lifts the film out of the festering pool of Hollywood action B-movies. The use of synthesised music added a slightly surreal feeling to the film and the repetitive, threatening rhythm in the heist sequences worked superbly well. As you've probably gathered, the level of sadistic violence is far too high and, instead of being realistic, ends up obscuring the real message of the film and, on occasion, prompted laughs from the audience. On the subject of the heist sequences, these were shot very well. But, from the moment the car pulled off to make its get-away, things went down hill. The cinematography was bland, predictable and, ultimately, boring. For a film about a film stunt driver, I was expecting thrilling car chases with crashes, screeching tyres and horrified THINK! road campaigners powerlessly looking on. What I got, however, was very different. The car chases were dull and far too few in number to live up to the film's set-up. When I go and see a film about cars and heists, I want to smell burning rubber, not the petrol fumes of a traffic jam. To be honest, I've seen more exciting action sequences on Antiques Roadshow.

Another problem I had with the film (despite the excessive violence) was its predictability. Now, there's nothing wrong with a generic narrative arc now and again: it serves a useful purpose in helping the audience understand the film. But Drive was a bit too predictable and the ending seemed to wrap-up all the loose ends in a way which didn't quite sit with the rest of the film. The relationship between Gosling and Mulligan was one of the strengths of the film but this, again, could have been exploited further. Please don't think that I'm saying that the plot is poor – it's not – but I just think that so much more could have been made of the set-up. This film will, no doubt, develop a cult following and be applauded for its gritty portrayal of mobs and crime but for me, the whole thing is a little too airbrushed; a little too Hollywood. Despite what Drive strives to be, it never quite makes it but it is still a film which has made a move in the right direction for Hollywood action cinema. 

Clapperboard Rating: * * *

Warrior

Rarely have I been in an audience which, at the end of a film, remains in total silence. Usually as soon as the last line is said, the last plot point is concluded and the characters walk off into the sunset to live happily ever after, there is a sudden rush for mobile phones, bags and nearly-empty mega-sized packets of crisps. All this is accompanied by a loud cacophony of chatter and general verbal rowdiness because, you know what, we haven't spoken for nearly two hours! This common state of affairs was no where to be seen at the end of Warrior. As the credits rolled, not a single person spoke. Sure, people began to collect their personal belongings but not in the usual state of mild panic as if there were a bomb somewhere in Row E and they must run for the nearest exit. People moved quietly and considerately and seemed to have a respect for both their fellow audience members and for what they had just seen. It was certainly a refreshing change.

Warrior follows two brothers who, having not seen each other for many years due to a family break-up, begin training to fight in the biggest mixed martial arts tournament in the world. The younger (Tom Hardy) returns to see his ex-boxer and recovering alcoholic father (Nick Nolte) in order for him to train him up to become the best in the business. Meanwhile, his brother (Joel Edgerton) also begins training in order to better the financial situation of his family. This is fairly standard Hollywood stuff: guy uses sport to improve himself and discover what's important in life. The likes of The Fighter and The Wrestler have recently used the same formula and, on the surface, Warrior seems to be a carbon copy (albeit without the definite article). However, I was pleasantly surprised. The first plus point of the film is the strong cast. The relative new-comer Tom Hardy (recently seen in Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy) is excellent as the troubled younger brother and really does deliver a multi-faceted performance. Edgerton as his brother is also convincing and the two, presided over by Nolte's shattered and unstable father figure, work extremely well together.

In terms of narrative and plot, the film is rather sentimental (in fact, you'd probably get less sentimentality in a Victorian love poem) and does, at times, over-do it. The denouement can be seen from miles away and, if you didn't see it coming, then you're frankly not trying. That said, Hardy and Edgerton just about hold it together and prevent the whole thing from crashing an over-emotional ball of flames. Sometimes (and only sometimes, mind you) there's nothing wrong with a bit of a corny story as long as it only rears its head occasionally and all the other elements surrounding it are strong and effective. The fight sequences in Warrior certainly did-away with any sentimentality and you know what, they hurt. Every punch, kick and blow was felt in high definition by every audience member and this made the fight scenes all the more involving and effective. The cinematography during these fights really was beautiful and captured perfectly the pain, chaos and thrill of a fight. Clearly, the cinematographer Masanobu Takayanagi had planned each shot with surgical precision. On a general level, the close-up shots of the actors' faces throughout much of the dialogue gave the whole film a claustrophobic edge, with the characters been trapped in their problems as well as serving to mirror their entrapment in the boxing ring. This cinematography, combined with skilful direction, ensured that the audience remained engaged with both the characters and their plight. Even though a blind bat wearing ten pairs of sunglasses could have seen the ending coming, it still had enough emotional punch (pardon the pun) to move me, not to floods of tears, but to a (slightly compromising) heightened eye-moisture level. The film's real skill lies not in its set-up, not in its portrayal of sport but in its use of violence as a way of bringing two men together and conveying a powerful message on an emotional level. This juxtaposition was totally unexpected and yet, worked brilliantly.

And so, as the credits rolled and the girl in F7 sobbed into her mangled tissue and her boyfriend awkwardly fiddled with his phone, I decided that Warrior, despite its over sentimentality and reliance on predictable plot lines, was a film worth seeing. Even if you're a girl. Even if you hate violence. Even if you've no interest in any sport. And that's coming from a guy who thinks kickoff is something angry people do. 

Clapperboard Rating: * * * * 

Jane Eyre

Still the staple (and perhaps the bane) of many a school child's English classes, Charlotte Bronte's Jane Eyre has been adapted for the big screen for what seems like the gazillionth time. Directed by Cary Fukunaga, the film tells the story of Jane Eyre who, after a traumatic childhood, starts work as a governess for the abrupt Mr Rochester. However, as the two become closer and Jane falls in love with her employer, his 'terrible' (many a revision guide's word, not mine) secret is exposed. With a fine cast, sumptuous cinematography and more corsets than you could undo in a lifetime, this adaptation shines amongst the eighteen or so other film versions of the 1847 novel.

There are few things that British cinema does as well as costume dramas. Americans lap them up quicker than a double cheeseburger with free fries and whilst they may not be to everyone's liking, there's no denying the fact that they are an important part of British cinema history. Jane Eyre (co-produced by BBC Films) showcases the best of this sub-genre and boy, does it pack a punch visually. The cinematography is stunning and really adds to the feeling of isolation which Jane feels throughout much of the film. The sweeping landscapes of Northern England, coupled with the bleak castle-like features of Thornfield Hall are shot in a way which reinforces the Gothic elements of the novel and creates an uneasy, desolate atmosphere. Fukunaga's use of natural lighting and the reliance on candlelight gives many scenes a claustrophobic feeling and lights the actors in an almost supernatural way. On the subject of actors, there are some superb performances, especially from Mia Wasikowska who plays the tortured yet defiant Jane. Casting such a relatively unknown actress in a role such as this was a big gamble but it certainly pays off. Wasikowska's ability to reflect a whole life of unhappiness in a single close-up or glance towards her feet was very impressive and her performance, coupled with Michael Fassbender's dominating Mr Rochester really made the film for me. A strong supporting cast including the inimitable Judi Dench helped cement the two central performances and made the whole film ooze quality.

There is no doubt that the production values are astronomically high. From the costumes to the sets, the attention to period detail is breathtaking. Even if you have no interest in the story (either because you were scarred at school or, more probably, because you're a guy) this film is a delight to simply look at. Not since you sat on that beach in Hawaii with your other half as the sun set slowly below the never-ending horizon have you seen something which is so easy on the eye. In terms of narrative, the clever use of flashbacks enabled the audience to understand Jane's behaviour and her reactions to the situations in which she found herself. I was struck by how dark the film was (and I don't mean that BBC Films forgot to pay their electricity bill). The fact that 90% of the audience knew Mr Rochester's secret already meant that it became even more effective and loomed over the action as Jane became more uneasy during her time at Thornfield Hall. Whilst I did feel at times that the plot was rushing through events as though the director was keen not to miss out much of the original novel, it was still an accomplished adaptation especially in terms of dialogue. On an overall level, the film maintains just the right level of emotion and its themes of love, betrayal and the triumph of human spirit are as tightly woven into the screenplay as in the original novel. The story of Jane Eyre is, and will always be, a classic and this most recent adaptation will most certainly stand the test of time and it shows that, as Brits, we're blooming good at sticking actors in breeches and corsets. 

Clapperboard Rating: * * * * 

Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy

I've thought long and hard about how to start this review but for some reason I can't seem to find the words to say what I want to say about Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy. Based on the novel by John le Carré, the film follows Smiley (Gary Oldman – better know to a younger audience for his role in Nolan's Batman series) as he is recalled to the Intelligence Service to help track down a suspected Soviet mole in the upper-echelons of the organisation. As Smiley delves deeper into the mystery, it soon becomes apparent that the enemy is very close to home.

There are a few main points about the film that I want to make. Firstly, the acting is first-class, with a cast that shines so brightly that it would put a Colgate advert to shame. The mixture of British cinema veterans such as John Hurt and Colin Firth with relative newcomers such as Benedict Cumberbatch and Tom Hardy worked fantastically well and Oldman's performance as a controlled, suave and refined Smiley is surely an Oscar contender. The film is wonderfully shot, using a very restricted, washed-out palette (by no means a bad thing) which adds atmosphere and, at the same time, makes the whole thing terribly classy. The stylish framing and intuitive cutting showed how someone had sat down and really thought about what they wanted to create, instead of the confused mishmash of shots so often used in mainstream blockbusters. The production values were, as to be expected, very high and the attention to detail was superb leading to the creation of a tense and taut atmosphere where the acting could really take centre stage. The costumes were impeccable, the detailing reminiscent of the hit US TV drama Mad Men, as were the sets which evoked a by-gone era in British history which could have been drastically different. In terms of the aesthetics and feel of the film, it is certainly a stand-out film of the year so far.

Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy is totally unlike the usual, run-of-the-mill spy thrillers and this was a refreshing change. Instead of urban shoot-outs, high-tech covert surveillance and more car chases than your average episode of Road Wars, most of the action took place in the dialogue and exchanges between the characters (sounds dull I know, but trust me) and the result is a thriller which is intellectually, as well as visually, stimulating in the same manner as films such as Michael Clayton and Inception. The fact that not every other scene was a bare-knuckle fight or a violent chase sequence meant that the acts of violence which punctuated the plot were all the more shocking and all the more effective. And now, I hear you ask, why did I start my review by saying I couldn't articulate my thoughts about the film? I'll tell you.

As I walked out of the cinema, running over what I had just seen and trying to think about what I would write, it suddenly dawned on me why I was finding it so difficult. I was totally apathetic towards the whole thing. I was not emotionally involved with the characters or their plight. The denouement had as much effect on me as jumping out of an aeroplane which is still on the runway and I found myself not really caring about the vast majority of the characters. Whether this was due to the lack of character arcs or an over-complicated plot, I'm not sure but towards the end I gave up trying to understand who-was-doing-what-to-whom-and-why-but-no-he-did-that-to-her-or-was-it-his-fault-but-where-does-she-come-in...?! In short, something didn't grab me. Please don't think that I'm saying this is a bad film: it's not. Maybe on a second viewing something will click. But my overwhelming feeling towards the film is that it's like central heating – on a technical level it's brilliant, but you don't have any emotive feelings towards it. It's just there. Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy is just there. It exists. And you know what...that's fine by me.

Clapperboard Rating: * * *