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In Bruges
Writer/Director: Martin McDonagh
Cast: Colin Farrell, Brendan Gleeson, Ralph Fiennes
Running Time: 101 minutes
"In Bruges" is an extremely engaging and at times gleefully violent black comedy about two Irish hit men passing
their time for a few days awaiting news of their next project in the titular Belgian city after an especially tragic previous
hit.
The odd couple of assassins are the young, brash and inexperienced Ray (Colin Farrell) and the older, heavier and more
world-weary Ken (Brendan Gleeson) thrown together as it's the busy Christmas season with the scarcity of hotel space forcing
them to share a single room. Neither is particularly happy to be in such a sedate spot, but their London boss (Ralph Fiennes)
insists on the exile, and as they see the sights and take in the modest night life their growing reactions to Belgium's best-preserved
medieval city are totally opposite. Ray considers it a step below purgatory and relentlessly insults the city with vile invective
with almost every breath. But Ken is drawn to the charm of the setting, and soon is wrapped up in its peace, its history,
its architecture and ancient rhythms. From this point, the film weaves a complex story of guilt, betrayal, male bonding and
honour among thieves.
It's an absolute gem of a piece, with the direction, performances, wit and pathos of the writing all coming together superbly.
The first-time director-writer is Martin McDonagh (who won a short-film Oscar in 2004), and the skill with which he makes
his setting and plot dual catalysts to his characters' growth is genuinely impressive.
McDonagh's humour defies political incorrectness, relentlessly making fun of the height, and weight-challenged, numerous
nationalities and sexual minorities in such a witty but gentle way that it's never remotely offensive. In a long, prolific
career of playing brutal but sympathetic characters, Gleeson has rarely been so appealing. As Bruges brings out the humanity
and nobility of his character, he communicates a state of tranquility and grace that's enormously pleasing.
However, the surprise of the film is Farrell, who, since falling off the Hollywood movie-star A-list (after a series of
box-office flops) he seems to have been liberated as an actor. His funny, vulnerable, abrasive, guilt-ridden character is
so charismatic and really charged with internal energy.
Fiennes is a study in finesse with the most outlandish of the parts and he carries it off with a form of studious channeling
of Ben Kingsley's 'Don Logan' from "Sexy Beast", his predecessor in this kind of role. I was hugely entertained
and thoroughly impressed by this quite exceptional film.
21
Cast
Ben Campbell: Jim Sturgess
Micky Rosa: Kevin Spacey
Jill Taylor: Kate Bosworth
Choi: Aaron Yoo
Kianna: Liza Lapira
Cole: Laurence Fishburne
Written by Peter Steinfeld and Allan Loeb
Directed by Robert Luketic
Running time: 123 minutes
Viva Las Vegas, baby. Land of glitz and glamour - it's Sin City. Where you can be whoever you want to be and do whatever you
want. What happens there stays there. Etc. Ad nauseum. Is there a more superficial city in the United States? And the movie
"21," which is largely set there, attempts superficiality and succeeds very well. However, it's when it tries to
present scenes of emotional depth that it runs into problems.
Apparently based on the book "Bringing Down the House" by Ben Mezrich, "21" is the sort-of true story
of 'Math' (what the hell happened to 'Mathematics' with 'Maths' as the shorthand? Bleedin' yanks!) students at MIT who learned
to count cards and took weekends off to make their fortunes in Vegas, baby. (Please note: the word "baby" is contractually
obligated to follow any use of the word "Vegas").
Jim Sturgess is our entry into card-counting. He plays Ben Campbell, an MIT student sporting a 4.0 grade point average,
a 1590 on his SATs and an acceptance into Harvard Med School (still there or has the American obsession with abbreviations
and acronyms elicited excessive yawning and knocked you off-site yet?) But Sturgess makes us like him; he isn't hyper-nerdy
(though his best friends are), he's moderately likeable, and he feels guilty when he lies to his mum. Ben is recruited into
the card-counting ring by his professor, a phoned-in routine from Kevin Spacey. At first he rejects the approach, but he is
persuaded to join by the female student on whom he has a crush, played by Belinda Carlyle (what do you mean you don't remember
her?) lookalike Kate Bosworth. Plus, he needs the money. Harvard Med School will cost a cool (not to mention preposterous)
$300,000.
Every week or so, the students and their professor fly out to Vegas, baby, to hit the casinos. Using a system of spotters
and players, blatant hand signals and code words, they manage to make a fortune or two. Life is good. They live the Vegas,
baby, life to its fullest, and then go back to their standard lives in Boston. For an hour and a half, not much happens. Then
unfortunately a little too late, the filmmakers realise they have to get into gear. Characters have confrontations with each
other. Friends break up and go in the huff. The card-counting team comes to a crisis. And not one single moment of it feels
real.
The film simply collapses on its arse. It takes one too many hits, and like so many gamblers, it doesn't know when to
stop. Director Robert Luketic displays a slick and glossy style, full of the sort of flashy tricks that usually sink other
films. But because of the subject matter, the high-gloss tricks almost work here: the slow-motion, the time-lapse photography,
the computer effects. It's the low-tech stuff, the human relationships, that feel utterly out of place.
"21" has a jazzy style, a hot soundtrack and all the soul of a bar of soap. It looks great but makes you feels
nothing. That's Vegas, baby.
Happy-Go-Lucky
Produced by Simon Channing Williams
Co-producer, Georgina Lowe
Directed & Written by Mike Leigh
Cast:
Poppy - Sally Hawkins
Zoe - Alexis Zegerman
Dawn - Andrea Riseborough
Alice - Sinead Matthews
Suzy - Kate O'Flynn
Tash - Sarah Niles
Scott - Eddie Marsan
Flamenco instructor - Karina Fernandez
Improvisation-director pioneer Mike Leigh's latest outing, following on from his bleak but brilliant 'Vera Drake' could scarcely
be more of a contrast to his previous film. 'Happy-Go-Lucky' is a bright and breezy depiction of a 30-year-old woman whose
endless optimism is both lightweight and bubbly with moments of laugh-out-loud wit and invective. Nevertheless, it's a mainly
inconsequential piece and at times the leading performance by Sally Hawkins as Poppy could tip even the most tolerant viewer
into belligerent irritation with her endlessly upbeat approach to all situations.
Leigh's famous improvisational method requiring his cast to create their own depiction of their characters however, is,
in the main, hugely successful. As Leigh allows the main protagonist Poppy, a wacky pseudo-bohemian primary school teacher,
to flit from inane chats with her long-term flatmate chum Zoe (Alexis Zegerman), to her nights in the pub or club dance floor,
and, once her bike's been nicked (which doesn't faze her in the slightest) to the resulting need for driving lessons with
borderline fascist driving instructor Scott (the ever-excellent Eddie Marsan), dealing with a school bully, requiring back
treatment following over exertions on the trampoline - Poppy appears to rise above it all, though Hawkins' at-times over the
top self-conscious knowingness flirts perilously close to "hey I'm on camera and in a film" for comfort.
There is a very delicate balance between the Poppy and Scott characters during the driving sequences and it's a difficult
one for both to satisfactorily maintain, as Scott is hugely irritated by Poppy's never-ending good cheer which again could
almost be a parallel with the audience's potential response. Equally there is an utterly pointless, superficial and lengthy
sequence where Poppy encounters a mentally and emotionally disturbed tramp, which really should have been left on the editor's
cutting room floor.
Apart from what seems like a shoe-horned-in conversational device between Poppy and Zoe, the absence of a loving partner
in the former's life is skipped over in the narrative, and when one does show up her response retains the constant level and
pitch of forced humour, something which raises the enquiry - is she genuinely happy or simply indifferent to life and hiding
behind a happy-go-lucky mask?
Shine A Light
Guest Review by KRIS MCKEOWN
Directed by Martin Scorsese
Starring Mick Jagger, Keith Richards, Charlie Watts, Ron Wood and others
Running time: 120mins.
Martin Scorsese and Rolling Stones are unusual bedfellows, but the juxtaposition of the English rock and roll legends' music
within the films of Italian-American Mafiosi culture has often provided plentiful cinematic reward. Who can forget the use
of 'Monkey Man' during Henry Hill's last days in 'GoodFellas' or 'Street Fighting Man' during Johnny Boy's swaggering arrival
in 'Mean Streets'? This collision has finally come to its natural conclusion with 'Shine A Light', a concert movie of the
Stones in action directed by America's finest living film director.
Using material filmed over two nights at the Beacon Theatre in New York (where else to host the film but Scorsese's home
town?), the film, ostensibly a concert movie, but at times, a view into the past and present of the group's 46-year career,
is a must for all lovers of Mick, Keith, Ronnie and Charlie. Satisfaction is very much on the menu and is indeed guaranteed
if the Stones still rock your world. If you are more of Scorsese fan, proceed with slight caution. The first 15 minutes of
the proceedings are devoted to a 'behind the scenes' view of pre-production, with Scorsese close to exasperation at the Stones'
insouciant reticence to commit to anything approaching a confirmed set-list for the gig. Following a somewhat egregious introduction
by Bill Clinton (the concert is a benefit for Slick Willie's eco-foundation, with Charlie Watts' laconic despair and incredulity
at the meet and greet that will follow post-concert being a fine counterpoint to the smarm of the ex-President.)
The opening chords of 'Jumping Jack Flash' are incredibly loud and open the concert proper to ear-popping effect. The
sound mix in this film will either be loved or hated; you can hear every instrument (particular the guitars) with astonishing
clarity, rather than an arguably bland, measured mix of all the music. 'Shattered' follows this and approaches drawn-out mediocrity
with 'She Is Hot' perilously close to following the same template, saved by a thunderous ending, with Charlie Watts, in close-up,
looking exhausted, as the icing on the cake.
Perhaps sensing that there is insufficient momentum by this point, vintage material of group in old interviews is cut
to for a few minutes, to remind us how truly great the Stones are. These interviews are then interspersed throughout the remainder
of the film, which as a whole, works well. 'All Down The Line' is, again, fairly uninspiring and by now, something great is
needed to provide impact. It arrives in the form of Jack White, he of the White Stripes (inexplicably billed as 'Jack White
III' on the promotional poster) in a duet with Jagger on 'Loving Cup'. White grins throughout, like he can't believe his luck
and the sight of him playing guitar next to Keith is a charming vision, the passing of the mantle from one great guitarist
of old to arguably, rock music's most innovative guitar player of this generation.
A nice interlude with 'As Tears Go By' ensues and the film traverses into another real highlight with 'Some Girls' from
the 1978 album of the same name. This is languid, loose-limbed funk and reminds us of the Stones of yore themselves, dangerous,
out of control, raucous and powerful. The impression is given that this is more representative of Scorsese himself and is
compelling to watch and listen to. A cover of 'Just My Imagination' sandwiched between that and another track from the 'Some
Girls' set, 'Far Away Eyes', an enjoyable country and western pastiche (Ronnie playing a mean lap steel guitar) which gives
us the pleasure of watching Jagger look slightly miffed when Keith tells him to 'shaddup' at the end of a chorus. Now, it
is magic time, as we bow to the magnificence of another cameo. Buddy Guy is in the building. The Louisiana legend joins in
a splendid version of Muddy Waters' 'Champagne and Reefer' and is probably worth the ticket price alone. Not just for the
performance, which is a wow, but also for a shot that makes you realise, that Scorsese has still got it in him to pull of
a masterstroke. Buddy Guy is at left of the screen, the rest of the screen almost dark, but for a red light. Guy tilts his
head towards the microphone waiting for the next verse to start. Anyone else would have cut away until it was time for him
to being singing again. However Scorsese holds the shot for about 5 seconds on the blues man's incredible face. And you watch.
It is brave and it is bold and up there with something from 'Raging Bull'. It is just MESMERISING.
After that 'Tumbling Dice', a classic, seems like an afterthought and the film sensibly realises that Keith is as much
of the Stones as any other, a vital component in the machine. Sir Keef does a couple of raggedy numbers (disappointingly,
not 'Happy' his best vocal performance ever) with a 'Pirates of the Caribbean' badge on his coat no less.
The encore consists of 'Sympathy for the Devil', Live With Me (with Christina Aguilera providing little other than histrionics),
Start Me Up, Brown Sugar' and '(I Can't Get No) Satisfaction', all of which border on the exhausting. The choice of songs
in the set list is ultimately disappointing considering the man behind the camera. Were the director making this ten to fifteen
years ago, a much different and possibly better film could have been made. The film is not flashy, but occasionally dazzles.
The moments in which it does, however are too infrequent for it to be, regrettably, deemed a classic. When it does, both visually
and aurally, it is thrilling and for that reason, is well worth seeing regardless.
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