Philippe Lacôte directs Bakary Koné, Steve Tientcheu and Jean Cyrille Digbeu in this Ivory Coast prison drama where a new inmate finds himself the evening’s entertainment while a shift in power among the gangs takes place.
A mash-up of A Prophet and Arabian Nights, this is a visually striking often rather sentimental prison thriller. Not every conceit works – the interpretive dance numbers and flashbacks to a world of magic and myths are never given enough space to feel essential. Yet there is a power to Night of the Kings from moment to moment. One imposing character sinks into the underworld with a disturbing acceptance… we share the disorientating rush of becoming the new focal point of La Maca. A beautifully lit shot is always the priority over brutality, it is a very violent and threatening milieu that sidesteps showing too much gore or pain. Worth a watch.
Christian Petzold directs Paula Beer, Franz Rogowski and Jacob Matschenz in this German romance where a spurned woman and a diver fall for each other.
This unlikely mix of fable, sex, break-ups and town planning reminds me very much of Krzysztof Kieslowski. The ups and downs of the relationships can be a little trying to keep up with – we often feel half removed from the deep emotions being churned up. A very likeable cast of modern arthouse stalwarts keep you invested in the choppy twists and turns.
Jim Abrahams directs Charlie Sheen, Valeria Golino and Lloyd Bridges in this spoof comedy that rips off Top Gun for laughs… or at least tries very hard to.
Lacking the hit rate of Airplane! or The Naked Gun, the best you can say about this is it at least attempts to match the production values of the hits it is lampooning.
Jim Jarmusch directs Tilda Swinton, Tom Hiddleston and Mia Wasikowska in this vampire film where two wan immortals bum around being glum.
Who decided haughty, emaciated posh Brits were the epitome of cool? The strange thing is these parasites are an accurate representation of their sort… self centred, snobbish and with an unfair advantage in artistic endeavours. They see their privilege as a curse and the rest of us as “zombies” they have to endure… but not share their world with. Ugh! The shitty thing is these parallels are accidental rather than an intentionally damning statement on the advantage and attitudes of the ruling class. Wasikowska and Anton Yelchin inject a bit of oomph and life into their smaller supporting roles. It looks striking, But essentially you are stuck in the company of a couple of fey dandies looking down at us from the miserable ivory towers. No thank you.
Brandon Cronenberg directs Andrea Riseborough, Christopher Abbott and Jennifer Jason Leigh in this sci-fi horror where an assassin leaps into stooges’ bodies taking over their lives until they have access to the target.
Lots of nice juicy disturbing qualities here but it runs out of steam when the focus moves away from Riseborough’s haunted existential parasite. The gender bending nudity and practical FX are strong, the violence excessive. The artier sequences where minds meld and separate are very impressive. Yet it is hard to fully care about these cold characters and their simulacra world. It feels too flat, too closed off, too much like a drab playset. And for all of Brandon’s strengths as a genre director (he understands the mission) you can’t shake off the irritating pall of nepotism. Not only would he not be making this feature if it wasn’t for his more famous groundbreaking father, but he wouldn’t be making it like this if it wasn’t for David’s brand identity. The best thing about Possessor is it is a homage to daddy, but whether you want to sit through Oedipal karaoke and not feel slightly gypped is a whole other thing. Ironically Possessor is a body horror throwback that cannot figure out its own identity while inhabiting another’s flesh.
Russ Meyers directs Dolly Read, Cynthia Myers and Marcia McBroom in this sex romp where a female trio arrive in LA hoping to make good in fame and riches, sex and love.
Paced and edited like a bullet train, you are more likely to have a heart attack than keep up. Busty young ingenues race through a decade worth of soap opera melodrama in a mere 100 minutes. Unpredictable, horny, parodic and a lot of fun.
John McTiernan directs Bruce Willis, Samuel L. Jackson and Jeremy Irons in this action adventure where John McClane finds himself racing around New York solving riddles and completing impossible feats at the whim of a mad bomber.
Hot time Summer in the city… YOU ARE ABOUT TO HAVE A VERY BAD DAY! I’m just going to say it, I grew up loving this but the more I watch it the more it niggles at me. While 2 is a near perfect sequel (sue me), this feels quite cobbled together. The disorientating but blissfully unceasing first half of phone trash talking, taxi chases, subway explosions and quirky bomb disposals gives way to a very choppy and loose concluding half. The editing in the second section is atrocious, coincidences are relied on heavily and you can see the scars and severed connections created by the obviously reshot finale. Where did the battalion of terrorists go after they armed up? Why is Samuel L Jackson in that helicopter? Well, Samuel L Jackson is wonderful here as the reluctant participant in the mind games and terror tactics of a bunch of white people… so why wouldn’t you let him joyride inappropriately into the big end sequence? He never undersells the risk, kills every line and has a good rapport with Willis, who generously shares his spotlight. Race and racism is leant into frequently, leading to some witty asides (“Let me guess… Rodney King?”) and moments of gripping small scale peril. Willis’ opening salvo, forced to walk around Harlem with a charged epithet on a billboard, is a moment that feels truly original and unlikely in action cinema. Later Jackson’s Zeus has to answer a ringing phone as a beat cop points his gun at him for a misdemeanour and you never question the reality of his precarious situation as a black man. Quibbles aside, this is still a rush of adrenaline… I just kinda wish it could maintain the polished unpredictability of the earlier set pieces right up until the finish line. Still, we have John McClane chuckling deliriously as he climbs out of an obliterated subway carriage… just as incredulous as we are that he is not dead… and sometimes that’s all you need to get you through a tough week.
Harold Becker directs Timothy Hutton, Tom Cruise and Sean Penn in this teen drama where, after a tragedy, a group of students takeover their military school and the ensuing stand-off turns into an armed siege.
George C Scott is top billed in the credits but only appears in a handful of scenes. Timothy Hutton is nowhere near the movie star that Cruise and Penn would blossom into so your eyes are always drawn away from him, no matter how pivotal his actions are in the story. The casting would work better rejigged if Cruise were the lead, Penn the hothead and Hutton the voice of reason. It is a strange little teen rebellion movie, not a bad one, but one where the kids are fighting for their right to be part of the system. Unusual to see a flick where the values are quite so conservative, so traditional and almost pointedly uncool. You can constantly sense the tragedy brewing after an unpredictable first act proves there’ll be no holds barred. The big finale is surprisingly violent.
Michelangelo Antonioni directs Monica Vitti, Gabriel Ferzetti and Léa Massari in this arthouse classic; a mystery where an heiress disappears during a boating weekend.
I’m not denying this has some of the most beautifully composed shots in cinema history. And I liked how unresolved it all is. Yet this is ultimately an exploration of ennui, restlessness and angst… like seemingly every Italian film of the era… we see how grotesquely the idle rich behave… and boredom and desolation is quite boring and dispiriting to watch.
Pietro Marcello directs Luca Marinelli, Jessica Cressy and Vincenzo Nemolato in this Italian dramatic adaptation of Jack London’s novel about an uneducated worker who becomes a struggling writer.
What a fantastic lead performance by Luca Marinelli. He anchors this story of love, ambition, politics and poverty with a star-making turn equal to Brando in Streetcar or De Niro in Taxi Driver. He suits this sensual but cruel world, we share in his stubborn, often amusingly curt, rejection of compromise and patronage. Marinelli’s decade spanning exploration takes place in a vague 20th century Naples. Some of the technology is quite modern, some of the fashions and politics feel like they belong in a forgotten past. Old footage is colourised or recreated as mood setting flashbacks and visual representations of Martin’s personal writings. These sequences are spellbinding. This temporal vagueness helps you get lost in the story… though there is a jerky leap forward in time and fortune at the start of the third act that disorientates. The conclusion seems to be aiming for the artier and the metaphorical… the kind of unspoken desolation of decadence that Fellini or Antonioni or Kubrick aim for. I’m not sure I entirely picked apart the closing moments true narrative import, though the sense of fatalism they evoke is definitive. I look forward to rewatching them.
Bobby Carroll's Movie Diary 