Wednesday, 7 August 2013

Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close (Novel, 2005) - Review

A heartbreakingly poignant novel about love, loss and moving on, all told from the perspective of a nine year-old polymath.

To say the least, I was very surprised by this novel. I should clear it up beforehand that I pretty much loathed the 2011 film adaptation of the book, even more so considering the fact that it was nominated for best picture at the Oscars that year. But, all prejudice about the film aside, this is, when viewed singularly, a very interesting piece of writing.

We are narrated to by the stream-of-consciousness first-person narrative of Oskar Schell, a nine-year old who lives in New York with his mother. Early on we are made aware that they are still living in the wake of the attacks that occurred several years previous, in which Oskar's father tragically died. For such a young person Oskar is very intelligent, almost tragically so at times, and it seems apparent that there is also some psychological imbalance in his personality.

Then, one day, Oskar knocks a blue vase from a high shelf and smashes it to pieces. At first, Oskar is terrified about what he's done - but then he notices the envelope scattered among the pieces, with the word 'Black' written across the front. Inside there is just one thing; a key. And so, Oskar does what anyone else would do in such a situation; he sets off to find out which of New York's 162 million locks the key belongs to. Thus, the story follows what happens when Oskar begins knocking on the doors of New York residents with the name 'Black', which queues heartwarming encounters with a range of New York's variety of citizens.

Foer has essentially mastered his own form of prose, the kind narrated from the perspective of a nine year old boy. Obviously, stylistic tendencies and aspects of form are shaped around this experimental concept. Passages of dialogue between Oskar and the people he meets are confined to single paragraphs, perfectly complimenting the back and forth dialogue and adding a welcome sense of humour and lightheartedness to the story. Many passages in particular show real talent on Foer's behalf, as the writing is almost painfully honest at times, especially a certain scene in which Oskar attempts word association with a psychiatrist, which is so well written it was an utter joy to read.

Alongside Oskar's story is a parallel narrative in which we are told the stories of Oskar's grandparents when they were younger and in the midst of the Dresden firebombings. Their story is as emotionally crunching as Oskar's is, if not more, as it gives an insight into the kind of heartbreaking lifestyles people can live in the wake of terrible tragedies.

With further regards to form, the novel does adopt a heavily impressionistic style at times. Black and white pictures are frequently used with relation to the events of the story, as well as short sentences that are placed in the centre of blank pages. The appearances of these aspects of the novel gave it an air of being pretensious; they seem like the kinds of things placed into the book specifically for the purpose of being analysed by academics, rather than because they evoke some true relevance and meaning to the work.

But aside from the indecipherably impressionistic and somewhat unncessasry aspects of the work, Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close is a novel that is both wonderful and heartbreaking. It's a unique piece of writing and a genuine joy to read.

Tuesday, 6 August 2013

Only God Forgives (2013) - Review

Nicolas Winding-Refn presents a visceral nightmare of a film that really does need to be seen to be experienced.


It's no secret that Ryan Gosling and Nicolas Winding-Refn developed what has been described as a 'famous friendship', one that even led to an utterly fearless man-kiss at the Cannes film festival before an army of photographers. With regards to the lead role, Luke Evans was originally intended to play it, but was replaced by Gosling due to scheduling conflicts, and that's a fact that I'm oh so happy about.

Past the an outline of the plot, Only God Forgives is a film that is overwhelmingly difficult to describe. We follow Julian (Gosling), a drug lord in Bangkok who runs the family business with his brother, Billy. When Billy is killed in questionable and violent circumstances, Julian's mother, Crystal (Kristin Scott Stewart), a vehement mafia crime lord from the US, sends him on a mission to seek revenge against those involved in Billy's murder.

Likely the most admirable aspect of the film is it's fearlessness; Refn is known for a style that doesn't really care what the close-minded and easily distracted think. His trademark features of form are noticeably stamped on every single frame and in the audio of every shot, which are in abundance. The shots take their time in establishing  the films unsettling tone, dwelling on single frames that are unmoving for seconds at a time. Gosling's character, Julian, has only seventeen lines of dialogue in the ninety minute running time, requiring him to rely on facial expressions and movements alone in these long-held shots, which he pulls off spectacularly.

The films most unlikely talent comes from the relatively unknown Vithaya Pansringarm, who portrays psychotic veteran cop Chang, although his name goes unsaid over the course of the film. Outside of the film's world he is described as 'The Angel of Vengeance', an almost ethereal force who acts as a kind of Anton Chigurh with a set of morals; he distributes revenge in what he sees to be equal measure throughout the criminal underworld of Bangkok.

In terms of style and form, Only God Forgives is a work that will no doubt, in a couple of decades at the most, be examined and evaluated again and again in search of meaning and reason. Refn's last film, 2011s Drive, was referred to as an Art-House film, and this one will probably suffer under the same misunderstood header. Neither of them should be given this condemnation of genre though; just because effort has gone into a film doesn't mean it needs to be thrown into a different style altogether. All film can be considered art - Only God Forgives is an example of genuine talent and positively indulgent spectacle.

This is a film that will probably struggle to find it's intended audience, which is really a shame because it's a prolonged exercise in how form should be executed in a film; every shot measured for meaning and implication, with the kind of brutal fearlessness that you'll struggle to find in a lot of contemporary cinema. Despite his films repeatedly taking violent paths, Refn has reiterated that he is not a fan of violence, and 'hates anything that hurts.' But experiencing Only God Forgives is like staring into the abyss of the man's mind, to see the kind of real and potential beauty that cinema can achieve. Just make sure to open yourself up to it in equal measure.

4/5

Monday, 5 August 2013

Seven days till the arrival of Breaking Bad


The anticipating is pretty much killing me. When I originally signed up for a Netflix account around a year ago I noticed this programme in the 'most popular' section and remembered a friend having mentioned it to me long before. So I took the leap to watch it, and lost about a week of sunlight plowing through every single episode.

For those who still need convincing to start watching Breaking Bad, know this - everything you've heard in terms of hype is true. It really is one of the greatest television dramas of all time and exceeds ain just about every aspect of it's production. There is nothing, figuratively nothing, that can be used to criticise it.

On Monday, and each subsequent Monday after that, the new episodes from season five, part two, will go live on Netflix UK. If you need a little reminder about the events of the past five seasons, you can find a great recap video here from Screen Junkies. I'll likely be publishing reviews of every single one of the final eight episodes, just as a means of coping with the wait for the next one, and with the inevitable trauma that arrives when the show finally comes to an end.

Wednesday, 31 July 2013

Red Lights (2012) - Review

Rodrigo Cortes, director of Buried, delivers a brave psychological thriller that hits some great targets but misses a whole lot more


Tom Buckley (Cillian Murphy) and Margaret Matheson (Sigourney Weaver) are paranormal investigators and university professors who spend their spare time disproving paranormal phenomenons, psychics and mediums. While we are initially presented with these characters, we are also presented with Simon Silver (Robert De Niro), a legendary medium who is making his first professional appearance in thirty years, having retired shortly after the allegedly natural and sudden death by heart attack of one of his most ardent detractors.

Not surprisingly, the film follows the events depicting what happens when the sceptics and the psychics clash. While the first quarter of the film introduces us to the methods by which fraudulent psychics use to trick people, the rest of the film provides us with the escalating tension that a thriller should. Albeit Cortes having only released one major film (2010s Buried), his directorial skills are exceedingly impressive, especially with regards to his genre of choice. His attention to detail makes the increasingly suspect events of Red Lights all the more unnerving, as predictably unexplainable phenomenon begin to occur during the pursuit of Silver, such as birds committing suicide by window and electrical appliances unexpectedly blowing up.

This is all fine and well for a little while, but as the second act begins and the frequency of unexplainable events increases dramatically, everything starts to seem strangely unrelated. There are sections of the film, that make absolutely no sense, even when considering the films themes and topics of choice. The ending is intended to provide an explanation to these events, and while I won't spoil it, I will mention that it has sharply polarised many people. The message it puts across seems extraordinarily unrelated to the rest of the film, and it finishes with an uncomfortable absence of closure, even though there may be appear to be some on the surface

For the most part the performances are all of a high quality. Cillian Murphy's portrayal of the seemingly cynical physicist does falter at times, although this can be marked down to an occasionally weak script. However, this is similarly saved by Sigourney Weaver's performance as the equally cynical scientific debunker, as well as Robert De Niro's effortless depiction of the visually impaired Simon Silver. The cast is awash with talent and they do an excellent job of upholding the films often choppy rhythm.

Red Lights reminded to no end of David Fincher's Se7en, in that it's set in this bleak and gloomy city where the rain never stops falling.  Strangely enough, Red Lights could also be compared to Ghostbusters in it's portrayal of parapsychology; in the comedy world, the investigators lose their funding, but in the apparently serious world of Red Lights, they have no shortage of it. The ending works in context of this, because Red Lights isn't set in the real world. It's meant to be taken as seriously as Ghostbusters is, and that's the only thing the two have in common. Well, that and Sigourney Weaver.

3/5

Sunday, 28 July 2013

Chasing Amy (1996) - Review

This is the not-so-classic love story. It's that kind that could only exist as of a couple of decades ago at the most.


Holden McNeil (Ben Affleck) and Banky Edwards (Jason Lee) are comic book artists and best friends. Through a friend, the two meet Alyssa Jones (Joey Lauren Adams) a fellow comic book artist whom Holden becomes immediately smitten with. But this is where the guy-meets-girl love story falls to pieces. Guy meets girl. Guy falls in love with girl. Guy is shocked to find out that said girl is a lesbian. Or, to extinguish categories, a woman who is attracted specifically to women.

All of the classic staples of a Kevin Smith film are present, particularly the impressively long-held shots that really showcase the actors abilities, as well as the witty and always hilarious banter between said characters. The quality of the dialogue, of course, is only a positive force in the films overall scope. Using the term 'exploration' with relation to themes is always a tricky business because it can often mean going into minute detail about the dullest of things in order to try and squeeze something barely profound out, but Chasing Amy doesn't fall into this trap. Rather than being dull, Smith looks at specific aspects of a relationship when emotional tolerance is drawn thin and when people really do have a tendency to shout. Often times I found myself watching a scene, specifically one containing a conversation between two or more characters, eventually to realise on more than one occasion how long this films scenes go on for, although it isn't necessarily a crux, but rather an upside. It reminded me to no end of just about every film in Tarantino's filmography; Smith goes for drawn-out and precise quality rather than throwing a series of allegedly hilarious conflicts in the way of the characters as so many rom-coms have a tendency to do.

Supporting the story and dialogue, the chosen actors really do shine in their roles. Affleck's portrayal of the lovable but conflicted comic book artist Holden is spectacularly complimented - as well as contrasted - by Jason Lee's portrayal of colourist Banky, who has no shortage of judgemental opinions and explicit jokes. With Banky in mind, the film is not just an examination of a romantic relationship between a man and a woman; it also examines the toll that such a relationship can take on a friendship, as Banky has an infinite number of negative reservations about Holden and Alyssa's relationship, convinced that it can only end badly. Joey Lauren Adams portrayal of the girl, Alyssa Jones, is overwhelmingly powerful at times. She really doesn't hold back in the more pivotal scenes of the film that decide the outcome and state of her relationship with Holden. All of the primary actors push their performances to the point of being painfully honest.

Of course, a Kevin Smith film wouldn't be complete without an appearance from Jay and Silent Bob (Jason Mewes and Kevin Smith). Their appearance in the film is paramount to the films events, as Silent Bob shirks the restraints of his title in order to tell the story of his own romantic failure, that he was once 'Chasing Amy'; pining for the affections of another lesbian who he still can't forget. This idea particularly correlates with the central concept of the film, that being that the world of the post-ending kiss just doesn't exist in real life.

Smith tells a story that doesn't cop out on the painful details of love; it is messy, people's feelings can get smashed to pieces, and a lot of the time people don't always end up together. Chasing Amy is just that. It surmises a real, honest message about love that you won't find in many other places.

4/5