It’s an odd manga this, a wellspring of melodramatic feelings, though it does throw a lot of ideas out along the way, particularly notable in the way it often frames people by their hands, feet or other extreme close-ups. It’s a story about a no-good school bully Shoya Ishida (voiced as an adult by Miyu Irino) who goes a step too far with a deaf girl and is shunned. Years later he comes to realise what an awful person he was and seeks to make amends. That said it’s one of those films where two awkward and socially inept people try to heal their broken hearts… but will it be with one another? The motif of having people’s faces covered by a big X when he has fallen from grace with them is perhaps a little heavy-handed, and the reflective tone can be saccharine, but ultimately this is a very sweet film about trying to be a better person.
NEW RELEASE FILM REVIEW Director Naoko Yamada 山田尚子; Writer Reiko Yoshida 吉田玲子 (based on the manga by Yoshitoki Oima 大今良時); Cinematographer Kazuya Takao 髙尾一也; Starring Miyu Irino 入野自由; Length 129 minutes. Seen at Odeon Panton Street, London, Monday 27 March 2017.
Watching this on a plane means I was probably more predisposed to tears than usual, but I did find the central character’s story to be rather affecting. It follows Rosie, a part-Chinese part-Iranian young woman, learning about her father and his life in Iran, and one can only assume that the director’s own mixed ancestry contributes to her feeling for the way Rosie is torn between two disparate cultures (or three indeed, given she lives in Canada). The animation is eye-catching and takes in multiple styles on various poetic digressions (formally integrated into the narrative, as Rosie is literally a poet). I also love diaspora/immigrant stories, though I did find the rendering of Rosie’s eyes distracting (in the sense of not feeling like I was getting the same range of emotions from them as from the animated non-Chinese characters). Still, it’s a lovely little work, which you might not get much of a chance to see if you don’t happen to fly via Canada.
CREDITS Director/Writer Ann Marie Fleming; Starring Sandra Oh; Length 89 minutes. Seen on a flight from London to Vancouver, Wednesday 5 April 2017.
I feel like I’ve seen live action versions of this mystical, supernatural, body-swapping elegiac romance but animating it somehow makes the sentimentality more palatable. Also, let’s be fair, it makes it gorgeous to look at. There’s a lot going on here under its slightly twee premise — an attempt perhaps to grapple with a troubled 20th century — and the storytelling is quite dense (a lot of play on language means subtitles at the top and bottom of the screen at times), but it creates a wonderful atmosphere.
(PS Also, yes, the full stop is part of the film’s title.)
CREDITS Director/Writer Makoto Shinkai 新海誠 (based on his novel); Starring Ryunosuke Kamiki 神木隆之介, Mone Kamishiraishi 上白石萌音; Length 107 minutes. Seen at Odeon Panton Street, London, Monday 2 January 2017.
Another solid Disney animated film after Frozen and Big Hero 6, this deals with a world of anthropomorphised animals where the big threat is the reversion by the predator animals to ‘savagery’ (i.e. their ‘natural’ animal state). Our hero is Judy Hopps (Ginnifer Goodwin), a bunny rabbit from a country carrot farm with dreams of serving on the metropolitan police force (called “Zootropolis” in the UK version, but “Zootopia” everywhere else), yet despite her ambition, she seems thwarted by the unfeeling old timers on the police force, led by their buffalo captain (Idris Elba). However, after falling into the ambit of small-time grifter fox Nick Wilde (Jason Bateman), they team up to help solve a series of kidnappings. When you look at the character list, it all does seem very silly, but into this buddy-coppy fantasy adventure format, the film is trying to push some pretty serious ideas about civic corruption (Jenny Slate voices the assistant mayor, a sheep if not always sheepish), not to mention racial intolerance and understanding — all enfolded up into the big mystery of the savage animals which Judy and Nick are tracking down. Even aside from the thematics — and I have no idea how they’d play to children, as some of the ideas are pretty complex — the animation is gorgeously detailed and replete with all the expected blink-and-you’ll-miss-them visual puns in the backgrounds, not to mention sly hommages to various films (few of which would be known to kids, unless The Godfather and Chinatown are considered typical viewing for that generation these days).
CREDITS Directors Byron Howard and Rich Moore; Writers Jared Bush and Phil Johnston; Starring Ginnifer Goodwin, Jason Bateman, Idris Elba, Jenny Slate; Length 108 minutes. Seen at Cineworld Chelsea, London, Thursday 21 April 2016.
It’s been getting great reviews since it was released last month in the States, but for me the signs preceding Inside Out weren’t entirely auspicious, as I’d been feeling pummelled by the sheer weight of all the hype, and the apparent blanket saturation of the marketing. Admittedly, it’s not been quite as aggressive as Minions, but it’s also somehow less obviously appealing (those yellow creatures are awfully cute). The short film that precedes it in cinemas (“Lava”) is also pretty anodyne and faintly annoying (a cod-Hawaiian song about heteronormative volcanoes), so that didn’t exactly help either. Plus there were clearly a few grumpy contingents at the screening I attended, judging from the brief bout of remonstration being levelled at the parents of a crying child (the man’s insistence that the crying child was too young for the film somewhat belied by the film’s U rating, and also hey non-parents get a goddamn grip if you’re going to a U-rated film, even if it’s in the evening).
But — and I sense you’re expecting this “but” — I needn’t have worried. The director Pete Docter comes to this project from his previous Pixar success Up (2009), and if you’ve seen that film, you’ll perhaps have a sense of the emotional tone deployed here. Sure there’s comedy (it’s a Hollywood animated film; there’s always comedy), but the register feels a lot more reflective and even melancholy at times. This is matched by the sound design, which isn’t afraid to jettison the musical score and embrace relative silence when it suits the story, which revolves around the emotional trauma of an 11-year-old girl, Riley, whose parents relocate the family from the Midwest to San Francisco. The particular device the filmmakers use to reflect this is to personify her emotions as individual characters (Amy Poehler voices Joy, Phyllis Smith voices Sadness, and there’s Disgust, Fear and Anger besides), sitting in a control tower in a colourful visual representation of her mind. The animation is crammed with little details that extend the central metaphor (it’s a very metaphorical film), and there are some delightful sequences that play out as Joy and Sadness must make their way back to the control tower from the outer reaches of Riley’s brain (the one that takes place in ‘abstract thought’ comes to mind, as well as the dream sequences).
It’s commendable that Docter and the screenwriters keep the story focused on Riley when it would have been easy to mine further laughs from the similarly-represented minds of those around her (a device sparingly but effectively utilised). It also all seems to work pretty coherently as a metaphorical representation of the mind and its emotional processes, with memories stacked up like bowling balls and colour-coded by the guiding emotion at play, then sent off for filing in a vast repository, which includes a dump for those discarded memories. Core memories stay in the control tower and are the foundations of various personality traits, imagined as outyling islands around the control tower (cerebral cortex, one imagines). The care thus shown to the creation of this interior world, and the film’s avoidance of excessive mawkishness, surely mark it out as one of the finer Pixar filmsm one that’s sure to become one of their audience’s core memories.
NEW RELEASE FILM REVIEW Director Pete Docter | Writers Pete Docter, Meg LeFauve and Josh Cooley | Starring Amy Poehler, Phyllis Smith, Mindy Kaling, Bill Hader, Lewis Black | Length 94 minutes (+ 7 minutes for the short film Lava, dir./wr. James Ford Murphy) || Seen at Cineworld Wood Green, London, Tuesday 28 July 2015
It’s a huge hit, its success already guaranteed on the back of the two Despicable Me films (in which the titular yellow creatures first appeared), so there’s little point in me getting too in-depth here, besides registering my general enjoyment. Here the Minions have been moved ever more to the forefront of the narrative, still voiced as ever by director Pierre Coffin in a strange burbling blend of European and Asian languages. It’s a prequel to the earlier films and sends us back to the swinging 60s, so the filmmakers lean heavily on a period soundtrack, which provides some memorable moments. Yet on the whole I found it just a little bit disappointing, lacking some of the inventiveness of the earlier films. That won’t probably matter much to the kids at whom it’s aimed, and it didn’t frankly matter much to me on a Friday night after a few drinks in the pub. It’s colourful, it’s silly, it’s not too demanding.
NEW RELEASE FILM REVIEW Directors Pierre Coffin and Kyle Balda | Writer Brian Lynch | Starring Pierre Coffin, Sandra Bullock, Jon Hamm | Length 91 minutes || Seen at Cineworld Haymarket, London, Friday 26 June 2015
Just a quick note on this film which I caught up on for my New Year’s resolution. It’s clearly aimed at children, and if you judge it with that in mind, it’s no doubt an excellent film. It follows Tove Jansson’s Moomin characters, particularly the hippopotamus-like creatures of that name (as well as some ancillary ones), as they travel to the French riviera from their unspecified northern land. The themes gently incorporate critiques of celebrity culture and vapid self-centredness (predictably focused around the young female Snorkmaiden), and on the overvaluation of the art market, amongst other things. The film is made in a rather quaintly old-fashioned animation style, with a voice cast erring towards the undemonstrative (at least in the English version), and moves at a less hectic pace than many modern animated films. If anything, it brings to mind (for me at least) fondly-remembered television cartoons from my childhood. There’s only the tiniest hint of darkness around the edges (focused most of all on the gleefully anarchic Little My character), meaning that it may come across as just a little too anodyne for adults, but for the most part Moomins on the Riviera is a warm and loving evocation of these characters.
NEW RELEASE FILM REVIEW Director Xavier Picard | Writers Leslie Stewart, Annina Enckell, Hanna Hemilä, Xavier Picard and Beata Harju (based on the Muumipeikko comic strips by Tove Jansson and Lars Jansson) | Length 80 minutes || Seen at Cineworld Chelsea, London, Monday 25 May 2015
Herewith some brief thoughts about films I saw in April which I didn’t review in full. It includes a couple of films I actually saw in March but had thought I’d write up in their own posts (I didn’t).
Avengers: Age of Ultron (2015, USA) The Book of Life (2014, USA) En duva satt på en gren och funderade på tillvaron (A Pigeon Sat on a Branch Reflecting on Existence) (2014, Sweden/Norway/Germany/France) Insurgent (aka The Divergent Series: Insurgent) (2015, USA) Notting Hill (1999, UK) Pitch Perfect (2012, USA) Premium Rush (2012, USA) Wild Card (2015, USA)
I’d never actually seen a Studio Ghibli film before, which seems like quite an oversight, especially given that this film by one of the studio’s founders, Isao Takahata, is so delightful. It uses a traditional folk tale about a bamboo cutter who chances across a mystical baby (and huge wealth) while out at work. The baby grows at a rapid rate, eventually being hailed as a princess and relocated by her now-avaricious father to the city. The film itself, for all its narrative incident, unfolds at a relaxed pace that allows for lengthy sequences such as the Princess choosing from her suitors. However, just as it has plenty of openness to its narrative structure, so the visual style has a beautifully balanced sense of space, with impressionistic use of watercolours and charcoal shading, which at times (such as a scene of the Princess running across the countryside) is pushed into an almost abstract dimension. There’s little attempt to restrain the story’s mythical qualities, such that the ending is surprisingly similar to that of 2001: A Space Odyssey, but as the expansive running time should suggest, this film is less about how the story is concluded as about the telling, which is immersive and yet meandering.
NEW RELEASE FILM REVIEW Director Isao Takahata | Writers Isao Takahata and Riko Sakaguchi (based on the folk tale Taketori Monogatari) | Length 137 minutes || Seen at Cineworld West India Quay, London, Wednesday 25 March 2015
I fear my post about this collection of BAFTA-nominated short films will be shorter than the list of credits below, but it was granted an official release to British cinemas so it falls under the ambit of my New Year’s resolution film-watching project. Needless to say, as with any such compilation, there are highs and lows, but the wonder of the short film form is that even if you get bored, there’s something else up in fairly short order.
Out of the eight short films featured in this compilation, the highlight of the set is probably The Kármán Line and not just because it stars the always delightful and watchable Olivia Colman. It starts out as a rather whimsical tale of a woman who, pottering about at home with her stroppy teenage daughter one day, just spontaneously starts slowly floating upwards, as if caught in an invisible tractor beam. However, it quickly develops into a really very affecting story about death, loss and grieving, as the ramifications of the mother’s new situation slowly dawn on everyone.
Many of the other films also grapple with family sadness. Of the animations, The Bigger Picture is probably the most interesting, with its odd mixed-media painted aesthetic, and story of two brothers coping with their mother’s dying, while My Dad is a garishly-coloured portrait of an affectionate yet problematically racist father. Emotional Fusebox, meanwhile, is a gorgeously filmed and well-acted, if somewhat slight, story of a young woman uneasily pushed by her family towards romance, as we slowly gather why she’s living in the shed at home. The longest film is Slap, a coming-of-age story about a young man with a confused sexual identity, which follows some fairly familiar paths, as does Boogaloo and Graham, though its story of two young Belfast kids looking after some baby chickens during the Troubles has a refreshing sense of place and some fine child acting. The low-key but appealing domestic drama Three Brothers and oddball space-era Scottish animation Monkey Love Experiments round the programme out.
All the films are BAFTA-nominated for a reason, and show plenty of promise for their assembled casts and crews, so I look forward to some of them making the leap to feature filmmaking. Then again, as this programme reminds me, the short film has its own particular pleasures.