March 19, 2024

5.1.24 God, I wish Jeremy Allen White was my big brother too. With a surprisingly excellent lead performance from Zac Efron in terms of physical prowess and emotional rawness, The Iron Claw does a brilliant job of dramatising the highs and lows of one of professional wrestling entertainment’s most infamous families.  From the opening scene, I thought to myself how nice it is to see Holt McCallany from Mindhunter and Fight Club getting some serious recognition, as I think he is an underutilised, stoic performer with leading-man potential. The narrative focuses rather compassionately on the exploration of family ties, which when seen here are just as powerful and intense as the body slams and suplexes seen in the ring. Also showing the unglamorous side of the industry, aside from Ric Flair popping up as an interesting pseudo-villain, the whole story is admirably restrained, avoiding the tendency to milk the emotion or sensationalise the Von Erich family’s tragedy. Zac Efron’s portrayal is strong enough to generate Oscar mentions, but whether or not he is nominated, this part illustrates his range better than any previous roles I can think of, probably since The Paperboy. In between all the drama that is observed, Efron as Kevin maintains the most reasonable and modest outlook of all the brothers in the pursuit of glory and recognition. Successfully showcasing a variety of moods and internal struggles manifested, Efron fleshes out a grounded personality which is likely valid to the real-life Von Erich brother, and his family moment in the final scene should bring any feeling human to tears. But with the exception of Kevin, we spend minimal time with the other brothers, with one real-life Von Erich being cut from the story altogether, and learn little beyond their personas outside of the family within the various companies they wrestled in. Although The Iron Claw doesn’t portray the dramatic lows or true physical toll that wrestling entertainment takes on the body to the same visceral degree as Aronofsky’s The Wrestler, which I just about prefer, this true story nevertheless has a bit of Greek tragedy about it. In the sensitive hands of writer-director Sean Durkin, it is a well-told, and neatly crafted story that stands out as a sports drama with emotional heft and a warning message, with Efron’s performance taking it that extra bit further. As a huge wrestling fan when I was a kid, I knew the Von Erichs suffered some misfortune, and never achieved top billing in the WWE or WCW, but I didn’t grasp how cursed this family truly was. As tragic as that story is, I’m glad to now understand.

31.12.23 What a pleasure it was to watch my first official film of 2024, on the last day of 2023 with my family during the extended Christmas break. Ideally, The Holdovers really should have been released in the UK before the 25th, although due to the awards recognition it’s getting, it makes sense to delay it a bit more in the UK schedule. I found it to be thoroughly heartwarming but also bittersweet in relation to how it’s portrays the vulnerabilities of its characters. I don’t think its premature to recognise it’s potential as a future Christmas classic as I think it will have massive replay value due to the universal message, as well as the fantastic performances of the main trio of actors.  Again we see director Alexander Payne rely on the services of Paul Giamatti to do the heavy comedic lifting in the main role, as he did 20 years ago with his brilliant anti-Merlot comedy Sideways. Giamatti brings his signature melancholic humour to the part, prompting laughs with ease while revealing the humanity of a man lost in life’s disappointments. Meanwhile, Da’Vine Joy Randolph turns in an emotional, affecting performance as head cook of the school Mary, a saddened mother navigating her own undesired holiday obligations. Her nuanced acting gifts the film most of its heart, although Giamatti and the actors playing the younger students also do a fair bit of that, although I did find some of the themes on depression and mental illness a bit ‘on the nose’.  Where the film falters slightly is in it’s own trappings. For example, it sets up a group of privileged young male students together and sets up discussions about wealth and privilege, but very quickly those themes get ignored as we focus on the main trio of characters. Whilst I loved spending time with them, it felt like an opportunity lost, as the focus in the film simply shifts to the main storyline regarding togetherness despite the people you find yourself with. Overall, the chemistry and performances of the main trio makes the film so enjoyable. As the characters demonstrate, finding moments of connection and joy with those around us can lead to delightful, memorable outcomes. More simply, we cannot always choose how or with whom we spend Christmas. Complicated family relationships during the holidays are part of what makes the season so important to those who take part in it. With its sparkling cast and smart balance of wit and wisdom, The Holdovers should easily prove to be a Christmas film with staying power, just like Alexander Payne’s works before.

15.1.24 Society of the Snow offers a stark and stomach-churning portrayal of the infamous 1972 Andes plane disaster and the harrowing survival story that followed. The film wastes no time plunging viewers into the chaos of the crash itself – a technically impressive sequence that truly makes you feel the terror and panic. What follows is an unflinching look at the agonising choices and gradual descent into madness as the survivors cling to life in the frigid mountains.  At 2 hours and 20 minutes, the film is arguably longer than it needs to be, a problem amplified when the film has been chiefly distributed on Netflix. But despite that, there is much to be delivered in the film’s final act, despite feeling emotionally drawn out. I found my interest waning at times even as the tension through peril, performances and production value remained top-notch.   The ordeal depicted is extremely compelling, but the film failed to make me invest deeply in the characters themselves. This is likely more of a personal issue, as my wife was very moved by the portrayals. And the young actors are beyond impressive in their commitment – not just in capturing the desperation of the survivors, but also in their willingness to become rail-thin as Christian Bale did in The Machinist and as Michael Fassbender also did in Hunger. Their transformations are just chilling, lending authenticity and feeling like the main reason to endure the tale through to the inevitable real-life conclusion.  A technically proficient, intensely realistic portrayal of an almost unbelievable true story. The impact and genuine contemplation of asking ‘What would you do?’ is impossible to deny even if the film doesn’t achieve excellence.

10.3.24 Sofia Coppola always seems to nail the portrayals of ‘contained women’ in her films, as showcased brilliantly in Lost in Translation and The Beguiled. Unfortunately though, I found Priscilla to be a mild disappointment, despite some great needle drops and artistic choices displaying Elvis as a less-than-sympathetic character. Based on the book ‘Elvis and Me’ by Priscilla Presley, the film is a compact and muted recollection of her marriage to the so-called king of rock and roll (lowercase as I’m not a fan!). Cailee Spaeny, in the lead role, is physically expressive and adept at portraying different life stages. However, her dialogue performances leave much to be desired, with some line reads feeling laughably bad. Still, her portrayal of a woman who, at 24, decided to end her marriage to someone as famous as Elvis is inspiring and bold. Jacob Elordi makes a decent stab at playing Elvis, nailing the voice and physique, but lacking the charm and vulnerability that made the real man so captivating. While it’s a treat to hear great songs by bands like The Ramones and Sons of Raphael, the absence of Elvis’s actual music feels like an understandably lost opportunity, due to rights reasons. These alternative tracks, though enjoyable, aren’t played at key moments that could have elevated both the melodies and the scenes. The film acknowledges the headiness of being romanced by the most famous man in the country. However, as the main character grows weary of her husband’s controlling behaviour and compartmentalisation of her within his life, the film feels thinner and more rushed as she realises she can push back — including a few triumphant scenes of her challenging Elvis through sheer outfit choice. It’s hard to say if Coppola is being deliberately ambiguous or withholding, given that Priscilla Presley herself is an executive producer and booster of the movie. This dynamic raises questions about whether Coppola is pulling her punches or presenting Priscilla’s story genuinely. Either way, the film doesn’t paint Elvis in a flattering light, highlighting the weirdness of a 24-year-old man preying on a 14-year-old girl. In a melancholic sense, the film lets the audience decide whether Priscilla’s going along with this doomed marriage was her fault or not. Beautifully shot and moody, Priscilla often feels more like an aesthetic project than a character-driven piece, but at least the dresses and makeup are bloody fabulous.

2.1.24 One Life may be a simple, safe and predictable wartime drama, but like almost anything Antony Hopkins turns his hand to, it is greatly elevated in terms of emotion and weight through his heartwarming performance.  As the ageing Nicholas Winton, Hopkins gracefully reflects the true story of the “British Oskar Schindler” who tried to organise the rescue of over 600 Czech children from the Nazis in 1939. Though the filmmaking itself is pedestrian at times, with the BBC title card not always being a moniker for excitement or innovation, Hopkins’ subtle yet forceful performance gathers power as the story builds. In the film’s early sections, Johnny Flynn makes an engaging young Winton, capturing the pro-refugee activist’s scrappy determination as he works against incredible odds to raise money, secure visas, and organise foster care for the children. Helena Bonham Carter also impresses as Winton’s imposing mother, who wills the London side of the effort. But it is in the late 80s scenes that Hopkins and the film’s craft find its footing, slowly shifting focus to the elderly Winton as he struggles with the weight of thinking his actions “so little” despite saving so many lives. The film’s sentimentality pays off beautifully I felt. In trying to avoid spoilers, all I will say is how it reminded me of the popular BBC show of the 90s This is Your Life. While initially feeling like a cheesy gimmick, this moment blossoms into something genuinely touching, although tragic. Hopkins’ emotional reaction is shattering, revealing a good man finally realising his huge worth. Like he has done before in The Father and The Remains of the Day, Hopkins once again proves that even the most predictable material can be elevated by a sincere, fortitudinous performance.

11.2.24 Paul Mescal? Impressive dance club scenes? A cripplingly sad film about dead parents? Haven’t we been here before? All of Us Strangers displays the fragility of memories of the past and the tenderness of moments in the present. Writer-director Andrew Haigh impressed me massively with 45 Years, and here he is with another hauntingly tender drama about Andrew Scott’s Adam; a gay man stuck in a life of solitude, probably not by choice. Paul Mescal also delivers a mesmerising, chameleonic performance so different from his more true-to-self performances in Normal People and Aftersun. Although the film is supernatural in places and uses devices to obscure reality, it still feels grounded in emotional truth through its meditation on life in London and the awkwardness of a new relationship. Yet it also feels otherworldly and surreal in its attempt to reflect the trauma of lost parents and living with mental health issues from unresolved discussions. Haigh should be celebrated for producing something so powerful, breathing life into simple and mundane yet loving exchanges, such as eating takeaway with the person you love while watching crap television shows. Even the unpleasantness of life, such as the agony of feeling that you can’t come out to your parents, becomes something phantasmic and soul-reaching. The dream vignettes shine with nuanced detail, while the musical cues and pop culture clips starkly evoke nostalgia for simpler times. But in retrospect and criticism of the film’s ending, All of Us Strangers’ pervasive sorrow borders on unbearable, nearly too crushing for me to consider enjoyable or rewatchable. Though undeniably well-crafted, the film falters with a trite ending that left me wanting. A poignant burst of emotion for lost chances and squandered confessions that I cannot help but admire, even if all I wanted to do in the film’s final moments was to push myself away from it rather than let it wash over me.