August/Sept 2009: Creation | Fish Tank | The September Issue

Director; Jon Amiel

Cast: Paul Bettany, Jennifer Connelly, Jeremy Northam, Toby Jones, Benedict Cumberbatch, Martha West, Bill Paterson

Running time: 108 mins

It has long been a recurring debate intertwining between all facets of society and cultures - belief in the science of evolution or devotion to the apparently perceived religious wisdom alternative of creationism. Jon Amiel's "Creation" conveys the dilemma facing Charles Darwin, author of the definitive tome 'The Origin of the Species' as his conscience, ethics and practical research conflicts with that of his beloved wife and possibly future generations of religious believers.

Starring Paul Bettany and his real life spouse Jennifer Connelly as Mr. and Mrs. Darwin, "Creation" not only tackles science against faith - but also deals dramatically and sensitively with the loss of their young daughter, and is based upon the book "Annie's Box", written by Darwin's great-great grandson Randal Keynes.

In flashback sequences, we are introduced to the close and charming relationship between Darwin and young Annie (an astonishingly assured performance by Martha West), who shares and indeed at times increases by her beautifully objective observations, his unsentimental fascination with the natural world. Her ultimate death almost destroys both her parents and their marriage, as the father's last vestiges of religious faith crumble away, whilst his wife's increases.

Darwin's scientific colleagues Huxley (Toby Jones) and Hooker (Benedict Cumberbatch) attempt to encourage the rapidly reclusive researcher to complete the writing of 'Origin of the Species' fervently and enthusiastically assuring him its publication will "kill God". Conversely, Darwin dreads this possible outcome, as it would inevitably estrange him from his dear wife and their close friend the Reverend Innes (Jeremy Northam).

The structure and measured pace of the film, together with a quite beautiful, subtle and sensitive, deeply human performance from the superb Paul Bettany who is rarely off-screen throughout - contributes, with some outstanding work from a sublime cast, towards making this a piece of intellectual and emotional excellence, both moving and inspiring.

Cast: Katie Jarvis, Michael Fassbender, Kierston Wareing, Rebecca Griffiths, Harry Treadaway
Writer-Director: Andrea Arnold
Producers: Kees Kassander, Nick Laws

Running time: 2hrs 4mins

Apart from the not inconsiderable feat of being beautifully written and superbly directed by Andrea Arnold, Fish Tank's main component is a quite stunning debut by Katie Jarvis as the 15-year-old Mia. She is constantly on-screen in virtually every scene, whether fighting off rival girls on her tough estate, sneering at the endless partying of her mother Joanne (Kierston Wareing) or fending off verbal abuse from her foul-mouthed younger sister, Tyler (Rebecca Griffiths). In Mia's life, the main outlet from this depressing existence is dancing.

This is the unpredictable world of a working-class mother with two young daughters who live together in an environment so strongly captured by Arnold that it's hard to imagine anything beyond it. Here she turns her gaze on the eldest daughter, Mia, a 15-year-old who many, including her distracted mother and the social services - who want to put her in residential care - have all but given up on. Mia's fiery little sister, still barely in her teens, smokes and drinks and answers to the call of 'fuckface", whilst Mia herself is aggressive with most people she meets - but she loves to dance to hip hop and R&B and breaks into an empty flat to secretly practice, when not visiting an ailing horse tethered to an almost derelict caravan site.

One day her philandering mum brings home to their grim council flat in this decaying housing estate on the outskirts of London, her latest paramour, the effortlessly charming Connor (Michael Fassbender). This new guy's apparent decency and good humour engages Mia, her sister and of course her mother, but sinister overtones develop in due course with his affection for Mia. Eventually, moving through and from Conor's initially affable persona, the film takes on a darker tone, as the areas of desire, attraction and adolescent development, both sexual and emotional, are given prominence.

Fish Tank is completely gripping, moving, tense, humorous and surprising. The dialogue and overall contemporary perception rings so true and the performances from all involved are utterly credible, measured and beautifully given. The entire film is a wonderful achievement and is not to be missed.

Directed by R.J. Cutler.
Produced by R.J. Cutler, Eliza Hindmarch, Sadia Shepard.

With: Anna Wintour, Thakoon Panichgul, Andre Leon Talley, Grace Coddington, Mario Testino, Patrick Demarchelier, Oscar de la Renta, Vera Wang, Jean Paul Gaultier.

Running time: 1 Hour 28 Mins.

The September Issue, directed by RJ Cutler, follows Vogue magazine's Editor-in-Chief Anna Wintour and her editorial team in the assembly and shaping of 2007's edition of the title monthly - the largest issue of the year, the holy bible and testament for the upcoming year in fashion, the phonebook-sized bane of every American postal worker's existence. Immediately, we're promised glamour, high-stakes editorial crises, the merge of commerce and style - all part of the manic business of modern magazine publishing. The September Issue offers much more than those immediate inside pleasures - commenting on celebrity culture, digital image-altering technology, power and privilege and much more. It also provides these immediate inside pleasures superbly along with the nitty-gritty, so we get to witness a mix of high fashion fascism with Ms. Wintour as the iron fist inside the stylish hand-stitched calfskin glove - velvet, apparently, is so last year, darling.

To be honest, a Glasgow punter such as myself has no real clue if calfskin is hot right now or not, but as The September Issue makes clear, it would be if Wintour thought so. Wintour stands astride the world of fashion like a colossus, and for designers and taste-makers her trademark ginormous sunglasses mask a gaze that inverts the legend of the gorgon -- if Anna doesn't look directly at you and your work, it's curtains for you. Watching Wintour tour the studios of various designers to appraise their work for the upcoming season, you understand that in this world, she's the equivalent of a monarch -- and that to her, there's no other world. "What I often see is that people are frightened of fashion, and because it scares them or makes them feel insecure," as Wintour notes in an early interview segment, "they try to put it down." The 300-billion dollar-a-year industry of fashion -- as Wintour defines it, and she does -- is like religion, and to speak against it is heresy.

And if Wintour is the ruler, then her most trusted second-in-command -- who nonetheless is second -- is Grace Coddington, the model-turned-photographer who has served for decades as Wintour's Creative Director. Throughout the film, we watch as Grace proposes, and Anna disposes -- throwing out photos Grace loves but Anna doesn't, ignoring outfits Grace would love to photograph and Anna couldn't bear to have in the magazine. The two women have a fascinating, frustrating and fruitful anger/love relationship, and watching it is one of The September Issue's greatest pleasures.

We don't get much from Wintour's superior, media magnate S.I. Newhouse -- a few nods of agreement and mumbles of enthusiasm about the plans for the September issue - but while Anna has a boss, The September Issue make it clear that she is the gaffer; we watch as Wintour, like a crowned ruler of feudal times, carefully cultivates opportunities and patronage jobs for the young designer Thakoon, and his career is made. As Anna dismisses photos, story ideas, outfits brought for her opinion and staff members' suggestions with icy grace, we understand how easily it could have gone the other way.

At the same time, you also get a disarming, fascinating occasional glimpse of vulnerability; Wintour may be a monarch, but uneasy lays the head that wears the crown. We watch as Wintour uses her college-age daughter as a one-woman focus group, trying to get a take on how the next generation thinks and feels about fashion, and you realise that she could never do that with her younger staff for fear of seeming out-of-touch, and you feel a touch of sympathy for The Devil (who) Wears Prada. Cutler and his team got to see everything and go everywhere, and while they find the manic buzz and thrust of fashion week and high fashion (aided by the stylish electro-pop of the soundtrack), they also find the stolid, steady bump and hum of cold cash commerce under it. Cinematographer Bon Richman doesn't just show the gleam and glory of glorious extravagance, but he also finds the cluttered workspaces and hectic studio sets where that magic is messily made.

There is humour in The September Issue, mostly when Andre Leon Talley, a Vogue Editor-at-large, stumbles and minces through the scene dressed like a Bond villain or wearing a piece of camping equipment and acting like a deleted scene from Zoolander. Whilst there are digressions -- the documentary crew winds up being drafted as extras and tone-setting props for a re-shot piece on "color (sic) blocking" -- but when Anna notes of a cameraman's photo that he "needs to go to the gym more" and offers that there's no need to worry about the curve of his belly, since it can be fixed digitally, Coddington puts her foot down to keep the photo untouched and get the look she most wanted, and the digression becomes a demonstration of everything the film's about.

The September Issue also offers a glimpse of both our gilded age and the rot underneath it - we see Vogue's fever-vision of a fabulous, glamorous world of designer gowns and sumptuous couture fashions that are unaffordable, unattainable and impractical, with the occasional outfit or piece you can afford and wear more than once scattered throughout the magazine like crumbs hurled to the starving mob. I'm not especially interested in fashion (I'm interested in style as opposed to fashion, much as you can be interested in films as opposed to Hollywood), but The September Issue's look at power, money, pop culture and professionalism (and its absence) had me enthralled. Brilliant stuff.

Cast: Paulina Gaitan, Edgar Flores, Kristyan Ferrer, Tenoch Huerta Mejia and Diana Garcia

The American dream still seems to intoxicate and its influence has a reach that extends everywhere, as in other parts of the world, the USA standard of living serves as a magnet, attracting floods of aspirants to that vision of America. Still, when you look at the world these characters are fleeing in “Sin Nombre” (which translates as “Without Name”), the flight seems to be worth the numerous deadly risks – from a beating by officials to death at the hands of a bandit, in the airless boot of a car or under the wheels of a train. Yet “Sin Nombre,” directed by Cary Fukunaga, is more than just an immigration drama. It is also a look at the bleak life of street gangs in Mexico and about the intersection of those two worlds. Almost a “City of God” on the road.

“Sin Nombre” tells the tale of Casper (Edgar Flores), a member of the Mara Salvatrucha gang. Casper’s been slacking on his gang duties, so he can secretly spend time with his girlfriend, Martha (Diana Garcia). But he lies about it to the gang boss, Lil Mago (Tenoch Huerta), because the gang has a misogynistic share-and-share-alike policy about its women. Casper however seems ambivalent about gang life, but once you’re in, you’re in, as evidenced by the massive and hideously over-the-top MS tattoos on Casper’s back and Lil Mago’s face. Still, it’s only after the initiation ceremony for Casper’s 11-year-old hanger-on, Smiley (Kristian Ferrer) – in which the gang members beat up the youngster – that Casper evinces trepidation about being part of this gang of deadbeat losers with their embarrassing ‘homie’ US street vibe affectations.

The film’s parallel story deals with Sayra (Paulina Gaitan), a teenager in Honduras whose father has returned home after being deported from the U.S. Dad abandoned Sayra as a small child when he emigrated; now he’s willing to take her with him as he tries to sneak back into the States to get to his new family in New Jersey. Most of their trip is spent riding atop railroad boxcars, from which they descend only to avoid authorities, bathe and find food and water. The two storylines converge after Lil Mago discovers Casper’s girlfriend. Claiming ‘droit de seigneur’ of the gang leader, Mago accidentally kills Martha while trying to rape her. He then forces the distraught but obedient Casper to accompany him on a hunting trip to rob immigrants riding on the roof of the trains – and when Mago threatens to kill Sayra if she won’t have sex with him, Casper explodes and hacks him to death with a machete. On the run, Casper knows that the gang, which has chapters all over the country, is on his trail. He also finds himself saddled with Sayra, who is overwhelmed with feelings for him for saving her life. She treats him as a saviour, finally extracting a certain valiant quality from Casper, in spite of himself. Mara Salvatrucha is an insular band of outsiders, who have created their own sense of inclusion, at odds with society and the law, at odds with other gangs, and intolerant of anyone within their circle who violates the group trust. Flores’ performance as Casper is the film’s most nuanced characterisation. You get the impression that his survival instinct drove him to join the gang in the first place – but membership itself now threatens his well-being. As he flees the gang’s wrath, he refers to himself as a dead man with no future – but you can see in his eyes that this isn’t anything new, that he’s felt like this for a while.

In some ways, “Sin Nombre” examines a society that is corrupt and destructive. The film has an undeniably gritty and at times compelling feel to it, plunging the viewer into a grim and filthy world with its own unsparing rules and code of conduct. However, at odds with most other reviewers, I found the whole exercise ultimately shallow, directionless, gratuitous and at times almost repugnant.