La La Land

This review was first published by The Student Pocket Guide

Films never exist in a vacuum. They develop, respond and mature according to those which came before, and the particular moment in which they are made. Except for perhaps the very early days of cinema, true originality in films (from Hollywood or elsewhere) is a myth. 

Several films from the last 15 years or so have been praised for their novelty (largely thanks to advances in technology). Take Avatar, for example, which was hailed as the beginnings of a take-over for 3D film; in reality, 3D cinema was widespread in the 1950s. The Artist gathered much admiration as a silent, black-and-white film in today’s era of colourful and loud blockbusters, and masterpieces such as The Lord of the Rings pioneered new techniques which redefined how such films could be made. Although these films were undoubtedly innovative, none emerged independently of similar films which had gone before.

In the same way, La La Land could, at first glance, appear to be completely new. But it is far from the only film in recent years to have invoked the golden age of the Hollywood musical. The successes of films like Mamma Mia, Sunshine on Leith and Les Misérables have all appealed to people’s experiences of the euphoric nature of the film musical. In La La Land, the Hollywood musical is both acknowledged and updated, creating a film which weaves emotion with musical hooks and toe-tapping delight. 

Written and directed by Damien Chazelle, who directed the intense drumming film Whiplash, La La Land tells the love story of jazz pianist Seb (Ryan Gosling) and Mia (Emma Stone), an aspiring actress in Los Angeles who can’t seem to ever secure a call-back after an audition. To make ends meet, Mia works in a coffee shop in the Warner Brothers lot, directly opposite the “Paris” window out of which Ingrid Bergman and Humphrey Bogart famously looked in Casablanca. Indeed, references to Casablanca are prolific in the film, and Mia and Seb are given their own love theme on the piano, akin to “As Time Goes By”. 

Theirs is a relationship which is both believable and endearing. Emma Stone is an emotional powerhouse: funny, sassy, vulnerable, tenacious and disarming in equal measure. Her many audition scenes are a particular stand-out, and as an audience, we really feel for her when, as her mesmeric eyes fill with tears, she is interrupted mid-audition by a PA with a call for the casting director (“Shall I tell her you’ll call back in two minutes?”, “No, it’ll be less than that”). 

Stone’s performance is pitched perfectly against Ryan Gosling’s slightly arrogant, but still very likeable, Seb. Gosling is perhaps reminiscent of the likes of Gene Kelly – not in terms of technical ability (although his piano playing and dancing, developed through many months of training before filming began, is very convincing) – but as a star with that glint in his eye and that magnetic screen presence. 

Both Mia and Seb have, as so many do in Hollywood, a dream to make the bigtime in their respective professions. Seb’s burning passion is jazz and he hopes to open a jazz club to honour what is – in his opinion – the greatest musical genre to have ever existed. Mia is equally set on becoming like the actresses who walk into her coffee shop, earn adoring stares from the staff and are achingly nice in refusing a free coffee before being driven off to set on a golf buggy. 

The pair initially cross paths in a minor case of road rage in a LA traffic jam – a continuous-take sequence which opens the film and which culminates in people literally dancing on the roofs of their cars (recalling the big dance numbers of 1950s musicals). They meet again when Mia sees Seb being fired by a restaurant manager (J. K. Simmons – recognisable as the intimidating teacher from Whiplash) for going off-piste with his musical choices at the piano. 

Their relationship develops, persistently underscored by the classics of both film and jazz. Their first date is a trip to see Rebel Without a Cause and a subsequent trip to a jazz club results in a rather patronising Seb trying to convince her of the need for jazz to be preserved for future generations. Without giving too much away, a crack appears in proceedings, fracturing the undiluted optimism reflected in the film’s aesthetics, and questioning the price to be paid for pursuing one’s dreams. 

The design of the film is certainly a joy, mixing blocks of vibrant colour with inventive cinematography, and is reminiscent of the soundstage sets of classics such as Singing in the Rain and Gentlemen Prefer Blondes. Snow appears for a brief moment at an LA pool party, and the Griffith Observatory, previously the site of James Dean’s troubles and now a courtship venue for our lovers, plays host to a fantastical, intergalactic dance number. The film’s final sequences go ever further in mirroring the dream-like, highly-stylised worlds of old-school musicals. But even amongst the whirl of musical numbers and bold, extravagant imagery, there is emotional intimacy and turbulence, leading to an ending which may not appeal to everyone but one which is, ultimately, hugely satisfying. 

The music (composed by Justin Hurwitz) ticks all the boxes, driving the plot and also revealing characters’ feelings in a way which equivalent dialogue can sometimes struggle to do. From beginning to end, La La Land is a delight. The performances, design, music and narrative coalesce into a heart-warming and exultant celebration, continuing the musical tradition which has never really left our cinema screens. Perhaps, in 2017, it’s a film we all need.   

Clapperboard Rating: * * * * *

Rogue One: A Star Wars Story

This review was first published by The Student Pocket Guide

 

Before I begin this review, I have something to confess: I’m not a Star Wars fan. Not that I hate the cinematic behemoth that is one of the most successful film franchises of all time, it’s just that I can’t really get that excited about it. Unlike many people, I don’t know my Ewoks from my droids, and I’ve little understanding of the politics of Siths, Jedis and Rebel Alliances. This severe lack of knowledge, however, did nothing to reduce my enjoyment of Rogue One: A Star Wars Story – an off-shoot of the Star Wars films which develops and thrives on its own merits. 

Way back in 1977, Star Wars: Episode IV – A New Hope was released, and opened with Darth Vader quizzing Princess Leia about the whereabouts of stolen plans for the Death Star. The plot of Rogue One charts how these plans came to be stolen in the first place, presenting many new characters, and revisiting some familiar faces. Beginning with expansive shots of space, populated by a lone spaceship scything through the darkness, Rogue One introduces us to Jyn Erso (Felicity Jones), the daughter of Galen Erso (played by Mads Mikkelsen), an engineer with a central role in the building of the infamous Death Star. 

Jyn Erso grows up to become a rebel fighter and joins a Rebel mission led by Cassian Andor (Diego Luna), a young and ambitious soldier in the Alliance. After receiving a holographic message from her father – through his friend Saw Gerrera (a theatrical Forest Whitaker) – Jyn embarks on a quest which leads her across the galaxy and into the paths of many wonderful and strange characters (including more than the occasional Stormtrooper). Events culminate in a plan to infiltrate the Empire’s library where the Death Star blueprints are held, with Jyn favouring a blast pistol over a library card. Felicity Jones is, as usual, on fine form, tackling the action sequences with confidence and her usual elegance. Indeed, much of the film’s success lies on her likeable performance which balances emotion with a sense of muscular determination characteristic of the Star Wars saga.

Introducing so many new characters to the established Star Wars world was always going to be challenging and, although the first third of the film feels like an endless cycle of people being kidnapped, whisked off to random planets and being thrown together with other new characters, the characterisation is largely successful. The ensemble cast which emerges is a rather ragtag group of Rebels, composed of an impressive Force-invoking warrior monk (Donnie Yen) and his machine-gun-wielding friend Baze (Wen Jiang), and Riz Ahmed puts in a great turn as a pilot who defects from the service of the Empire. The film’s light-relief is provided by a reprogrammed – and very sarcastic – Imperial security droid K-2SO (voiced by Alan Tudyk), affording a few laughs in a film which otherwise plays itself quite straight-faced.

The action sequences are visually-spectacular as they are exciting, and (slight spoiler here) the film’s willingness to not treat its characters as indestructible space heroes is applaudable. Some great cinematography – particularly in the space dogfights where the camera weaves in and out of the action as X-Wing Starfighters take on the might of the Empire – is coupled with modern CGI to reinvigorate familiar Star Wars creations, such as the monumental AT-AT walkers (those four-legged battle robots things for the uninitiated). The final battle is immense in scope but, rather than descending into incomprehensible chaos, remains tightly-plotted and engaging. 

Rogue One is directed by Gareth Edwards, who became well-known for his recent re-boot of Godzilla, and he has developed a definite sense of rhythm in action sequences and in sci-fi film plotting. Here, Edwards (together with screenwriters Chris Weitz and Tony Gilroy) nods appropriately to the original Star Wars films whilst retaining a fresh and intriguing spin on the intergalactic universe. Darth Vader makes several scene-stealing appearances, and some CGI wizardry brings back the late Peter Cushing in the role of creepy Death Star commander, whilst a bit of technical magic gives us a youthful Carrie Fisher as Princess Leia. These touches add some weight to the script and anchor Rogue One to the original films which are loved by millions.

Scoring all of the action is Michael Giacchino’s soundtrack which borrows elements from the original score by the inimitable John Williams, but is confident enough to introduce its own operatic and bold musical themes. On an overall level, Rogue One retains a sense of adventure and fun which is matched by the intergalactic spectacle established in the original franchise. To fans both new and old, it offers excitement, action and a touch of nostalgia which works wonderfully in creating a film which builds upon its heritage, rather than depending upon it.

Clapperboard Rating: * * * *

This review was first published before the death of Carrie Fisher. 

A United Kingdom

In an industry which has, in recent years, been accused of lacking diversity, the choice to open the 60^th London Film Festival a few weeks ago with A United Kingdom is a significant one. Amma Asante has made history as the first black woman director to open the festival, and brings a keen filmic interest in issues of race, equality and love. Telling the largely-unknown true story of Seretse Khama, the heir to the throne in Botswana who fell in love and married a white woman in post-war London, A United Kingdom is a pertinent historical romance with an important story to tell.

Amma Asante’s 2013 film Belle explored the beginning of the end of the slave trade in eighteenth-century Britain and, in A United Kingdom, the British Empire is again under the spotlight.  Set in the post-war years which saw the crumbling of British imperialism, the film opens with Ruth Williams (Rosamund Pike), a straight-talking London girl, meeting Seretse Khama (David Oyelowo) at a dance and falling immediately in love with him. The pair soon marry, a mixed-race marriage which, in 1940s Britain, would have provoked much racism and plenty of raised eyebrows. Matters are made even more complicated by the fact that Seretse is soon to become the King of the Bamangwato people of Bechuanaland – now Botswana – and the union between a black man and a white woman is judged to be an international diplomatic crisis. 

A United Kingdom traces the political reactions to the marriage and the hostility with which Ruth was treated both in the UK and in Botswana when she and Seretse returned to the country for Seretse to take up his role. “Black King takes White Queen” scream the headlines as Ruth discovers that it is not only the people of Bechuanaland who are initially hostile to her – whites in the British protectorate also treat her with disdain. Much of this contempt comes from the (fictional) Sir Alistair Canning – played by Jack Davenport – a serpent-like civil servant who is determined to preserve political capital in the south of Africa at the expense of racial and romantic injustice. “Have you no shame?” he demands of Ruth when he learns of her impending marriage leaving her shocked but quietly determined. 

Although idealistic at times, a script by Guy Hibbert contains some nice moments of humour – especially between Ruth and her sister (played by Downton Abbey’s Laura Carmichael) – and Rosamund Pike’s performance is exemplary. Her portrayal of a woman caught between two worlds runs in perfect harmony with David Oyelowo, who displays a gentle defiance similar to his portrayal of Martin Luther King in 2014’s Selma. In fleeting moments, especially when in the company of his wife, Seretse’s composure breaks down and Oyelowo pitches this emotion perfectly. Asante’s confident direction, interweaving the machinations of the state with debates around British imperialism, racism and romance, draws out nuanced performances from Pike and Oyelowo which retain, at the heart of them, a strong – perhaps old-fashioned – sense of unyielding love. 

When Seretse and Ruth move to Bechuanaland, they leave behind the dreary, rainy streets of London and the dark, grey palate of the film’s opening cinematography is replaced with golden vistas of Africa. The juxtaposition between Britain and Africa, repression and freedom, is clear, but later muddied by the intolerance and inequality faced by Ruth and her husband in both countries. Much of the action flips back and forth between Bechuanaland and the imposing corridors of Whitehall, and the film is largely successful in maintaining a strong narrative and thematic message throughout.

The warm glow of the scenes in Africa does sometimes threaten to airbrush the rather appalling history and, sometimes, events are presented in a cursory manner. Although never appearing on-screen, Winston Churchill, for example, supports Seretse’s claim to return as ruler to Bechuanaland, but a later reversal in opinion when he wins the 1951 election is never explained. Similarly, Ruth’s strained relationship with her family – a potential mine of emotion and drama – is dealt with rapidly. Of course, there is much history to be covered in the film and the centre of the story is, of course, Seretse and Ruth’s romance, and Asante’s focus on issues of race necessarily requires other elements to be sketched, rather than explored deeply.

A United Kingdom is a confident study of a questionable period in British foreign policy where personal relationships and emotions became a weapon in the defence of the ailing British Empire. Amma Asante’s success here is to weave a moving love story into a wider narrative, combining great performances with a true sense of right and wrong. It is a film with an important story which deserves to be much better known. 

Clapperboard Rating: * * * *