Movie Review: A Little Chaos (2015)

by Tony Dayoub


Kate Winslet adds another to her already long list of costume dramas with A Little Chaos, the second film directed by actor Alan Rickman. Winslet plays Madame Sabine de Barra, an anachronistically liberated gardener hired by Monsieur André le Nôtre (Matthias Schoenaerts), landscaper to King Louis IV (Rickman). De Barra is to work on an outdoor ballroom at the King's gardens in Versailles. Her independence first perturbs Le Nôtre and his male contractors. But eventually his bewilderment gives way to curiosity and then romantic fascination with the confident gardener. Her sureness in herself eventually impresses even the king himself.

Movie Review: Belle (2014)

by Tony Dayoub

Belle is a film that holds as many surprises as its lead character, played by the electrifying Gugu Mbatha-Raw. On the surface it's a costume drama about the young, mixed-race Dido Elizabeth Belle, brought up in an upper class British household led by her grandfather, Lord Mansfield (Tom Wilkinson), England's Chief Justice (second in power only to the king, as one man puts it). In private, Dido is treated as separate but equal to her cousin Elizabeth (Sarah Gadon). In public, though, she is forced to play the deferential role blacks were expected to, walking a few steps behind the rest of her family, waiting in the drawing room while they finish their meals in the dining room with any invited guests. A curious turn of events makes Dido an heiress to her father's great fortune while leaving Elizabeth penniless, giving Dido the surprising upper hand in finding a suitable marriage partner.

Movie Review: Le Week-End (2013)

by Tony Dayoub

Shot digitally by Nathalie Durand, Le Week-End is a cut above the usual romances directed by Roger Michell (Notting Hill). The freedom offered by using a lighter, more mobile camera has also loosened Michell up creatively. It's no wonder Le Week-End reminded the director that there's a whole history of lighter, run-and-gun cinema that stretches at least as far back as the French New Wave.

NYFF51 Review: The Invisible Woman (2013)

by Tony Dayoub

Ralph Fiennes' second directorial effort, The Invisible Woman is an adaptation of Claire Tomalin's book of the same name, which detailed the long hidden love affair between author Charles Dickens and Ellen "Nelly" Ternan. Considerably younger than Dickens (played by Fiennes), Nelly (Felicity Jones) was an actress from a family of actors who the movie posits may have begun the relationship as a bit of a moon-eyed groupie. Dickens was already renowned for his works and his appearance was well known to many a Londoner. This makes for the film's best instances showing the at times negative aspects of fame Dickens—who enjoyed the adulation—had to contend with as he carried out his dalliance. No doubt this facet of the story was the easiest point of identification for the congenial and celebrated Fiennes.

Movie Review: Closed Circuit (2013)

by Tony Dayoub

True to its title, Closed Circuit begins with a view of a London marketplace through a closed circuit camera. Gradually, the view changes from that of just one camera to two, then four, then eight, multiplying exponentially with each new conversation the cameras pick up from shoppers strolling through the street market. In this age of global terrorism, this is what life is like in one of the most wired-for-surveillance cities in the world. And director John Crowley's split-screen effect underscores how difficult it is to keep track of multiple information flows simultaneously. Just when you think you've gotten your bearings a truck pulls into the market, stopping illegally in front of one complaining vendor and occupying an increasing amount of visual space in each camera angle and therefore the entire screen. You don't have long to surmise something's wrong before the truck explodes, killing all of the innocent bystanders discussing their mundane life events minutes earlier.

Blu-ray Review: The Life and Death of Colonel Blimp (1943)

by Tony Dayoub

"Dear old Clive, this is not a gentleman's war. This time you're fighting for your very existence against the most devilish idea ever created by a human brain... Nazism. And if you lose, there won't be a return match next year, perhaps not even for a hundred years."

Thanks to the Criterion Collection's new Blu-ray release of The Life and Death of Colonel Blimp, I've found a new film to add to my list of all-time favorites. I shouldn't be surprised. Colonel Blimp is written, produced and directed by those Archer chaps, Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger (The Red Shoes). Though the works of theirs I've seen are relatively small in number, movies like Black Narcissus and even the relatively obscure Gone to Earth sit high among my most beloved movies. Colonel Blimp appeals to me for much the same reason the others do. It is representative of Powell and Pressburger's disregard for conventional storytelling, structured as a complex flashback with digressive tonal shifts galore. If one can assign any overriding emotion to Colonel Blimp it is wistfulness. In this way it reminds me a lot of a deeply flawed picture that's still very dear to me, Orson Welles' The Magnificent Ambersons (1942).

You Only Live Twice (1967)

by Tony Dayoub

You only live twice:
Once when you are born
And once when you look death in the face

- You Only Live Twice by Ian Fleming

One of the most arresting images of the entire James Bond series is the sight of Sean Connery, THE iconic 007, laying dead and bloody in a bed. The shocking scene occurs even before the opening credits roll on the fifth of the 23 "official" films based on the Ian Fleming spy novels. For this and many other reasons, You Only Live Twice is a watershed movie in the series. The Death of Bond is a potent trope that has and will be repeated again throughout the 007 series. Bond's death and subsequent resurrection not only foreshadow the handful of times 007 would be regenerated in the performance of another actor; they also look forward to Connery's departure from the role before returning to it in Diamonds Are Forever (1971) and again in the "unofficial" Never Say Never Again (1983). Watching the schizoid You Only Live Twice—satisfying in some respects, frustratingly comic in others—is instructive in explaining why Connery was getting fed up with the series and how the Bond movies would eventually stray quite far from their source material before its triumphant reboot decades later.

NYFF50 Review: Berberian Sound Studio

by Tony Dayoub

You won't find one of the NYFF's most exciting discoveries playing in the cavernous Alice Tully Hall as part of the festival's main slate. Instead, you'll have to brave a trip to the Lincoln Center's relatively tiny Walter Reade theater to catch this gem as one of the NYFF's Midnight Movies, Berberian Sound Studio, a true festival sleeper if there ever was one. The intimacy is appropriate given that some might say Peter Strickland's small, imaginative movie is thin, spare. And they wouldn't be entirely wrong. Berberian Sound Studio is kind of a doodle, a loving tribute to the giallo, an Italian horror genre that often features a "normal" person slowly driven mad by phantasmagoric events around him.

Patang (The Kite) (2012) and The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel (2012)

by Tony Dayoub

The lushness and spirituality characteristic of India has long been a source of inspiration for filmmakers. But with few exceptions, the sometimes reductive nature of cinema has proven ill equipped to capture the gorgeous country in all of its complexity. Movies like Slumdog Millionaire often come closer to depicting a squalor and cultural dissonance one could confuse with a type of neorealism but is in fact closer to a kind of "poverty porn." Two recent movies take up the challenge of illustrating contemporary India, and, though both are deeply flawed, it's not surprising that the one directed by an American of Indian descent comes closer to success.

Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy is a Worthy Remake Filled With Lonely Characters

by Tony Dayoub

The tall, athletic man introduced earlier in Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy as British Intelligence officer Jim Prideaux (Mark Strong) walks into a class room and begins to write his name on the chalkboard. Only he does not write the name we’ve come to know him by. The typically garrulous young males attending the tony prep school remain blissfully unaware of their new teacher’s identity as he starts handing out the class assignment. But the viewer is all too keenly aware of who Prideaux is if only for the fact that we saw him shot in the back at the start of Tomas Alfredson’s film adaptation of the John le Carré novel. Is this a flashback? Or did Prideaux somehow survive the shooting? Prideaux’s mild demeanor belies his efficiency, a fact his students become aware of when a bird trapped in the chimney suddenly flies into the classroom in confusion. Prideaux rapidly pulls out a club from his desk drawer and swats the bird down to the ground where it continues to squeal in pain. As Alfredson directs the camera to capture the students’ horrified reaction, the sound of Prideaux beating the bird to death comes from off-screen...

CONTINUE READING AT PRESS PLAY

Gone to Earth: A Conversation With the Self-Styled Siren

by Tony Dayoub

Sadly, my other gig at Nomad Editions: Wide Screen is finito. I have mixed feelings about this. At times, it felt a bit like an echo chamber writing for it because of the lack of access to reader feedback, the numerous problems that readers encountered in actually connecting to the digital magazine (is it a website, a mobile app, or something else?) and, most of all, what seemed like an almost willful lack of promotion by the management(who's in charge, Bialystock and Bloom?). In the coming year, as contractual limits on what I can reprint come to term, I plan on posting pieces I wrote for Wide Screen here, in full. This will give non-subscribers a chance to read some of my best work (thanks to some actual vetting by the great copy editors led by Susan Murcko—Matthew Zuras and his predecessor, Ruth McCann). I will always remember Wide Screen fondly for being my first paid professional writing position as a film critic. It gave me a chance to work alongside some wonderful writers like Simon Abrams, John Lichman, Kurt Loder, Vadim Rizov, and Karl Rozemeyer. I had the best editor in the world, Glenn Kenny, to shepherd me through the ins and outs of professional film writing. And I was honored to call the Self-Styled Siren—one of my personal heroines and an angel to many film bloggers—a trusted colleague.

Fortunately, the last piece to grace the cover of Wide Screen is a collaboration, my very first, with the Siren (aka Farran Smith Nehme). We discuss a relatively obscure Powell and Pressburger film, Gone to Earth (1950). I had never heard of it until she was kind enough to invite me to Miriam Bale's rare screening of a beautiful print at the 92Y in Tribeca. Head over to the Siren's place to read a few extended excerpts. I've posted one after the jump that supplements the ones she selected:

Blu-ray Review: The Four Feathers (1939)

by Tony Dayoub

My first viewing of Zoltán Korda's The Four Feathers, the fourth adaptation of A. E. W. Mason's Kipling-esque novel, left me feeling a bit sour. Its depiction of the Arab and African followers of the jihadist Mahdi (affectionately nicknamed "Dervishes" and "Fuzzy-Wuzzies" by the red-coated British conquerors locked in battle with them) is a simplistic caricature at best. Produced by the director's brother, Alexander, the famous immigrant mogul who made it big in England, the movie seems to push the virtues of British imperialism the way you would expect coming from a stranger trying hard to assimilate into the political/economic establishment of the country he now calls home. A second viewing demonstrated something more subversive, however. But first, a quick summary for those unfamiliar with the film.

Gothic Nightmares

A survey of British horror films on DVD and Blu-ray

By Tony Dayoub

Serena in Hammer's Vampire Circus

As the climate turns chilly, leaves fall away from skeletal trees and nighttime lasts just a bit longer, I’m always tempted to enjoy the run up to Halloween by binging on spooky films. In selecting a sampling of some of those horror films to share with all of you, I decided to focus on a cross-section of British horror films. Though this sample leans toward the more esoteric in theme, many of them feature very familiar monsters and are representative of the eroticism, gothic panache and propensity for colorful gore that characterizes screamers made in the UK...

CONTINUE READING AT NOMAD EDITIONS: WIDE SCREEN

Movie Review: Never Let Me Go (2010)

by Tony Dayoub

Woefully underrepresented in the current film conversation, I believe Never Let Me Go will only grow in stature over the next few years. I saw this mournful film (based on a novel by Kazuo Ishiguro) last week, yet still find it haunting me in a way that brought to mind one of my favorite movies of the last ten years, Children of Men (2006). That's curious because while Children of Men presents a dystopic future, Never Let Me Go gives us a utopic past, or at least an alternate past.

Blu-ray Review: The Red Shoes (1948)

by Tony Dayoub

I've always gravitated to escapist cinema, whether the genre is horror, science fiction, the surreal, the western, or in this case, the musical. Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger's The Red Shoes is definitely the ultimate movie about dance, ballet in particular. But as David Ehrenstein points out at the start of a brilliant essay included in Criterion's upcoming Blu-ray reissue of the film:

It is a kind of musical, a mainstream favorite, as well as a Technicolor spectacular. But musical generally comes as a hyphenate with comedy attached to it. The Red Shoes is drama.

It precedes the colorful MGM spectacles so prevalent throughout the fifties, directly inspiring An American in Paris (1951) for one. However, it is the psychodrama at the root of this fairy tale adaptation which gives the film its weight, both visually and subtextually.

Seventies Cinema Revival: Walkabout (1971)

by Tony Dayoub

As I tweeted earlier this week (you may follow me on Twitter here, if you wish), Walkabout is very difficult for me to approach critically because of the personal significance it holds for me. This is the first film I remember ever seeing, a strange one to be sure. With its sexual subtext and copious nudity, it is not a film I would expect my parents would have exposed me to before, say, the typical Walt Disney cartoon. Yet, it was a different time, and my parents were liberal for even that era, the mid-seventies. How else could I explain the clear memory of Jenny Agutter's nude swim in an edenic oasis located somewhere in the Australian outback?

Movie Review: Red Riding: 1983 (2009)

by Tony Dayoub

The weight of the past hangs heavily on top cop Maurice Jobson (David Morrisey). For years he has carried the guilt over his involvement with the renegade cops of the West Yorkshire Constabulary and their preference of expediency over thoroughness in the child abduction case of 1974. Now, with the case closed and the perpetrator in prison, another series of abductions (too similar to be pinned on a copycat) begins. And it is too much for this compromised public servant to bear.

Anand Tucker (Leap Year) presents the events of Red Riding: 1983 like a memory play. Impressionistic in its photography, elliptical in its explanations, and nonlinear in its chronology, this entry in the trilogy is the spiritual chapter after the visceral action of 1974 and the intellectual exposition of 1980. Apropos of its approach, it nominates three characters to form a sort of mystical trinity to shepherd the triptych to its conclusion.

Seeing as 1974's viewpoint is that of a reporter, and 1980's belongs to a cop, it would be easy to pin the perspective for 1983 on the attorney who brings us into this story, John Piggott (Mark Addy). But the complex storyline is as thorny in its telling as it is internally. One of the other unlikely heroes is the street hustling B.J. (Robert Sheehan), who seeks redemption for his silence about the abductions so far. The third participant in this trinity is Jobson, sidelined for the previous two parts but roused into action by an unlikely romance with an unusual oracle (Saskia Reeves).

The shifting narrative devices and protagonists serve to add ambiguity and a feeling of displacement in the viewer. The dislocation created by the unusual structure forces one to be less concerned with the procedural aspects so central to the last part, and instead hone in on the moral ramifications of Jobson's inaction, B.J.'s silence, and Piggott's deliberate ignorance. One becomes attuned to the state of mind of these three players as they each pursue the killer, and their repective redemption, in their own way.

The greatest compliment one can give to Tucker and Red Riding: 1983 is that after it is over one wants to see the trilogy all over again, not simply to figure out how all the pieces fit together, but to wallow in the dark atmosphere of this long-form piece of cinema one rarely experiences anymore.

Red Riding: 1983 is playing as part of the Red Riding: Special Roadshow Edition, today through February 11th exclusively at the IFC Center, 323 Sixth Avenue at West Third Street, New York, NY 10014, (212) 924-7771

It will also play February 14th, 17th, and 18th, at Landmark's Nuart Theatre, 11272 Santa Monica Boulevard, West Los Angeles, CA 90025,
(310) 281-8223.

It opens in select theaters nationwide on February 19th.

Click here for more posts on Red Riding.

Movie Review: Red Riding: 1980 (2009)

by Tony Dayoub

Red Riding: 1980 begins more than five years after the last film. Reporter Eddie Dunford is dead. Builder John Dawson is dead. Paula Garland is dead. Crooked cop Bob Craven (Sean Harris) is now a detective. Chief Bill Molloy (Warren Clarke) is buckling under the pressure of a new set of serial murders terrorizing Yorkshire. And top cop Maurice Jobson (David Morrisey) still sits on the periphery of the action, ever watchful yet decidely unhelpful.

Into this tense atmosphere comes Peter Hunter (Paddy Considine), a dedicated officer assigned to re-investigate the unsolved Yorkshire Ripper case currently bedeviling Molloy. As cocky as Dunford was in his approach, Hunter is respectful, earnest. Yet even though the story perspective has shifted from that of a reporter to that of a cop, Hunter is just as much an outsider as Dunford was. And he's got problematic baggage, too—a needy wife whose miscarriage some time ago forced him to leave the Ripper case once already, and also led him into the arms of a fellow cop, Helen Marshall (Maxine Peake).

One also begins to sense there's something sinister about the Reverend Martin Laws (Peter Mullan), not entirely helpful in the last film's investigation, but Johnny-on-the-spot in this investigation. He provides a shoulder to cry on for Helen. But more importantly, he manages to deliver a confidential informant named B.J. (Robert Sheehan) to Hunter. B.J.'s information leads Hunter away from the Ripper killings and to the Karachi shooting that proves so pivotal in the previous film.

This is the weakest entry to the series because of its expository nature. That being said, it is a fine procedural with an instructive look into the cop culture of the West Yorkshire Constabulary. It is also a savage indictment of the insular culture of a small town and its police department. Hunter uncovers a shadow police force within the department, one whose motto is, "The North, where we do what we want." Though the Ripper case recedes into the background, it soon becomes clear that it is a reminder to the dirty cops of the earlier set of serial murders. It is also the impetus for Hunter's inquiry into the Karachi shooting, a key building block in the cops' conspiratorial act, without which the crooked detectives' silence starts to crumble.

A lot of what one learns in 1980 revolves around the notion that Hunter's honorable and lawful methods serve him no better in his attempt to stand up to corruption than Dunford's foolhardy stunts did. It's a bit obvious, which contributes to the familiarity of this chapter in the trilogy. But pieces are coming together, and as a second act this film is more than suitable in propelling the viewer to the third and final chapter of Red Riding.

Red Riding: 1980 is playing as part of the Red Riding: Special Roadshow Edition, today through February 11th exclusively at the IFC Center, 323 Sixth Avenue at West Third Street, New York, NY 10014, (212) 924-7771

It will also play February 13th, 14th, 16th and 18th, at Landmark's Nuart Theatre, 11272 Santa Monica Boulevard, West Los Angeles, CA 90025,
(310) 281-8223.

It opens in select theaters nationwide on February 19th.

Click here for more posts on Red Riding.

Movie Review: Red Riding: 1974 (2009)

by Tony Dayoub

Red Riding: 1974 only seems like a bracing return to the dark British crime thrillers of the seventies like Mike Hodges' Get Carter (1971), or the serial killer genre explored in The Silence of the Lambs (1991). A more accurate touchstone would probably be such disparate films as Straw Dogs (1971) or The Conversation (1974). From the former, it derives the outsider's perspective when obstructed by small-town provincial attitudes. From the latter, it borrows the sinking feeling of a protagonist so forcefully assailed by corrupt forces he may end up stained—or worse—from the experience.

Director Julian Jarrold (Brideshead Revisited) sets the trilogy in impressive motion with a murkily-lit look at a series of murders involving young girls in Northern England. The perspective on the case belongs to Eddie Dunford (Andrew Garfield), a cocky reporter who strides onto the relatively close-minded Yorkshire scene with little regard for the locals. A southerner, Eddie never quite meshes with his fellow reporters, the local constabulary, or even the families of the victims or witnesses involved in the case. The one person Eddie does seem to have most in common with is the slimy sophisticate, John Dawson (Sean Bean), a millionaire who pays off the local police force to keep his empty lot free of gypsy settlers as he prepares to start construction on a mall.

Eddie and John's tenuous link is their remove from the backwater environs with its unrefined denizens. That and Paula Garland (Rebecca Hall), a mother of one of the victims who is sleeping with each of them. Like Dustin Hoffman's David Sumner in Straw Dogs, Eddie is overconfident, believing he's got the Yorkshire folks all figured out, or even that he's one step ahead of them. But like Sumner, he is out of his element when facing the local bullies, in this case crooked cops like Bob Craven (Sean Harris), a bully who always proves most threatening when attacking Eddie's masculinity. The primary difference between him and John is the builder's willingness to play by the rules of this berg, a place where he doesn't belong any more than Eddie does.

On this level, the film is evocative of the seventies conspiracy thrillers like The Conversation. Eddie Dunford navigates through the filthy intricacies of the serial murder case, slowly finding connections to the cops, their benefactor John Dawson, and even his own newspaper. Like Gene Hackman's Harry Caul, Eddie believes his integrity gives him a slight edge over all of those he encounters, a professional distance if you will, one which he thinks will protect him against the depravity all around him. He blows off John's attempts to buy him off because he is self-assured in his notion that he is uncorruptible. It is only when John callously sics the dirty cops on Paula that Eddie realizes how mired he is in the wrong side of Yorkshire's demoralizing microcosm.

In look and feel, Red Riding: 1974 resembles another recent period film which examines a serial killer through the eyes of a reporter. That would be Fincher's Zodiac (2007). And though it quite doesn't achieve that film's multi-leveled complexity, it does make for an interesting first chapter in what could be classified as a time-lapse look at a small city oppressed by its own sinfulness. Those expecting a typical serial killer exercise may be pleasantly surprised. Red Riding: 1974's lurid serial killings are only a hook to draw viewers into its penetrating exploration of into the nature of venality.

Red Riding: 1974 is playing as part of the Red Riding: Special Roadshow Edition, today through February 11th exclusively at the IFC Center, 323 Sixth Avenue at West Third Street, New York, NY 10014, (212) 924-7771

It will also play February 12 - 14th and February 18th, at Landmark's Nuart Theatre, 11272 Santa Monica Boulevard, West Los Angeles, CA 90025,
(310) 281-8223.

It opens in select theaters nationwide on February 19th.

Click here for more posts on Red Riding.

Introduction to Red Riding: A Roadshow Recollection

by Lissette Decos

NEW YORK - I can officially say that Terence Stamp and I once went to the movies together. Well, I went to the movies, and he sat seven rows behind me. And it was actually a series of three movies that played back to back when The Red Riding Trilogy premiered at the 47th New York Film Festival in October. Yes, The Limey and I stuck it out through all three feature-length films (a 7-hour experience) for the love of independent cinema. Personally, I also hoped there'd be an “I survived The Red Riding Trilogy Marathon” t-shirt on the way out.

These films, which could also be called “Too Many Cigarettes in the 70’s and 80’s,” are adaptations of the Red Riding Quartet novels (with a cult following in England) written by David Peace. The stories are set against real-life serial murders that took place in Yorkshire, England. The movie trilogy is a great reflection of the times delivered in a beautiful film noir package, creating it’s own subgenre—Yorkshire Noir—with its own class of crooked cops, dirty businessmen, redemption-requiring heroes and the best femme fatales Northern England has to offer. The characters are superbly acted by some of England’s top talent including Mark Addy, Sean Bean, Andrew Garfield, Rebecca Hall, David Morrissey, Peter Mullan, and Paddy Considine... well, you'd recognize them if you saw them. Each film was given a different director and each one interweaves seamlessly between a 3 year time period, within the crimes, and even the lives of the crime-stoppers themselves.

In one scene, two detectives who've had an affair (a man and a woman) sit in a car as they check out a crime scene where a woman has been brutally murdered. As they discuss the crime they switch to their affair. He observes the roped-off area as he tells her how he regrets their affair and feels it was immoral. You clearly get the sense that they are framing their affair as its own metaphorical crime, a crime of passion, the slick, cool stuff of noir.

I really enjoyed the first two films, 1974 and 1980. Unfortunately, as the mystery begins to get solved the last film loses some steam for me. The good news is each film stands on its own. But even with its weaknesses you may want to see the final film, 1983, just to get some closure.

After the screening, the directors of the first two films, Julian Jarrold and James Marsh, answered questions along with producers Andrew Eaton and Wendy Brazington. One woman whined that the subtitles weren’t necessary. I actually agree. There were a few words that weren’t in my British vernacular, but I could have gone without the subtitles throughout. One film-student-looking guy wanted to know if the directors watched any films in particular for inspiration. After trying to dodge the question, Jarrold finally admitted to watching films like The Conversation (1974) and other conspiracy theory films of the 70s for ideas.

My arm in the air was completely ignored so I didn’t get to ask about the decision to use a different format for each film. The first was shot on 16mm, the second on 35mm, and the last one with a Red One digital camera. The last film looks the most unusual, with a less polished feel. But on my way out, I did get to meet the distributor and ask him how they plan to release the films in theatres, covertly asking him if he expects people to sit for seven hours... and if they would get t-shirts. He said they are still figuring it out, but perhaps a few places will show them all in one day while others will space them out.

I actually do hope that they play them all in one day. This unique movie-going experience allows for audience camaraderie and discussions during the intermission. Hopefully, your seats are as comfy as the ones at the Walter Reade Theater in New York.

Red Riding: Special Roadshow Edition plays today through February 11th exclusively at the IFC Center, 323 Sixth Avenue at West Third Street, New York, NY 10014, (212) 924-7771

Click here for more posts on Red Riding.