Life review

In 1955, photographer Dennis Stock was assigned by Life magazine to take photos of a little-known actor before his first major appearance in a film called East of Eden. That actor was James Dean.

The photos Stock took of Dean, first in New York and then around Dean’s family home in Indiana, would become iconic images of the young actor, who died only seven months after they appeared in print.

As director Anton Corbijn has stated, however, it was Stock who interested him more than Dean, and this interest is clear from the outset as the very first scene is of Stock (Robert Pattinson) in his darkroom.

Although he would later become world-renowned as a photographer, Stock was struggling to make a name for himself during the period in which the film is set. This is continually emphasised with Stock's editor John G. Morris (Joel Edgerton) telling him to ‘build a portfolio.’

Stock’s frustrations and his excitement at finding an interesting subject in Dean are effectively conveyed by Pattinson. The script doesn’t shy away though from depicting the less savoury parts of his personality, such as his egotism and his inability to connect to others. In one particularly telling scene, he cuts short a trip to the park with his son – who he rarely sees – to attend a business meeting.

Dane DeHaan also provides a solid performance as James Dean. He does a good job of capturing the quiet intensity that made Dean an epitome of ‘cool.’ Yet he also finds a troubled side to him and manages to show the anxiety that comes from having so much expectation on your shoulders.

Life provides an interesting exploration of the lives of its two main characters, both artists at key points in their careers. It also offers a sometimes painful look at the nature of celebrity.

There’s not a lot of showbiz glitz here, but there is a great deal of honesty. And that’s no bad thing.

 Star Rating: 4/5

Irrational Man review

The plot of Woody Allen’s latest film Irrational Man sounds compelling enough. Philosophy professor Abe Lucas (Joaquin Phoenix) decides to kill a corrupt judge in the hope of giving his life meaning. As this is going on, he has to juggle relationships with both student Jill (Emma Stone) and colleague Rita (Parker Posey).

There is a problem though with its execution. What could be a fascinating and philosophical drama ends up seeming more like a slightly surreal soap opera. Like a soap opera, there is no real energy and depth and, as a result, the whole thing becomes interesting only on the most superficial level.

The script is the weakest point. Aside from the college movie clichés – the troubled, alcoholic professor, the inappropriate relationship with a student – and the banal dialogue, it is also peppered with a series of annoying voiceovers that tell us little we couldn’t already grasp from the action on-screen.

Joaquin Phoenix and Emma Stone do their best, but they can’t bring to life what is already stillborn.

If you’re a die-hard Woody Allen fan you might get something out of this, otherwise it is best avoided.

Star Rating: 2/5

The Visit review

M. Night Shyamalan’s The Visit sees two teenagers, siblings Rebecca (Olivia DeJonge) and Tyler (Ed Oxenbould), going on a week long stay with their grandparents. 

Rebecca is an amateur filmmaker and is eager to document her and her brother’s visit for the benefit of their mother – who hasn’t seen her parents since she eloped with the kid’s father 15 years before.

When the siblings arrive, their grandparents are warm and welcoming. As the week progresses, however, their behaviour gradually grows weirder and more disturbing.  

After a string of failed attempts at making Hollywood blockbusters (The Last Airbender, After Earth), I was looking forward to seeing M. Night Shyamalan’s return to horror/suspense thriller. The idea of a movie in the vein of his earlier works, The Sixth Sense, Unbreakable, and Signs had me genuinely excited. What a shame then that The Visit is so mediocre.

There are plus points: the film’s snowbound, rural location is suitably creepy and a perfect setting for any horror film. Its found-footage style also gives it a very intimate, home video feel that suits its familial themes.

Then there is the tension and atmosphere which Shyamalan effectively creates by consistently ratcheting up the weirdness factor. What’s disappointing is that the only thing Shyamalan builds towards is some not very jumpy jump scares and a few gross-out moments.

The film’s biggest flaw though is its messy juxtaposition of comedy, horror, and family drama. It shifts uncomfortably between scenes of each in a way that is quite jarring.

Perhaps the best (worst?) examples of these tonal shifts occur towards the film’s end in which scenes of domestic horror are followed by preachy moralising and then by a very cringe worthy attempt at humour. It gives you the feeling that since Shyamalan couldn’t decide how he wanted to end the thing he decided to go with three endings for good measure.

Although not as disastrous or ill-conceived as some of his previous films, The Visit is still another misfire from a director whose catalogue is slowly becoming full of them.

Star Rating: 3/5

Legend review

Before the screening of Legend, there was a Q&A with writer/director Brian Helgeland. When asked about the dangers of glamorising gangsters, Helgeland said: ‘Gangsters are glamorous.’

He then noted that just because something is glamorous doesn’t mean it’s good.

Few gangsters are as glamorous and bad as the Krays. As club owners, they rubbed shoulders with members of the British aristocracy and celebrities like Frank Sinatra and Judy Garland. They were also killers, whose murders of George Cornel and Jack McVitie made them bywords for underworld brutality.

In Legend (based on the book The Profession of Violence by John Pearson), Helgeland doesn’t shy away from either of these elements. The film begins with the Krays, Ronald ‘Ronnie' and Reginald 'Reggie,' (both played by Tom Hardy) already established names in London's criminal underworld. It then follows them through the 60’s as their notoriety increases and a scandal involving a member of the House of Lords propels them to celebrity status.

Tom Hardy delivers screen-dominating performances as the twins. His Reggie is controlled and concerned with maintaining a veneer of respectability, telling his future wife Frances (Emily Browning): ‘I’m not a gangster, I’m a club owner.’

It is in the role of the psychotic, bisexual Ronnie that he excels though. Whether he’s being candid about his preference for men in front of American Mafioso, or outlining his plans to build a city in Nigeria – ‘for the children’ – Hardy’s Ron Kray is a hulking, mass of lunacy who still somehow manages to be charming; he’s part Joe Pesci from Goodfellas and part Yogi Bear.

Against this performance/s, it’s difficult for the rest of the cast to compete. As its narrator, Emily Browning’s Frances Shea is meant to provide the film’s human centre. Instead she is colourless and most of the time seems to be going through the motions of the gangster’s moll: she wants Reggie to change, ultimately realises he won’t, etc. Likewise, Christopher Eccleston is adequate, though no more than that, in the role of Leonard ‘Nipper’ Read, the detective on a mission to bring the Krays down.

Some liberties with the subject matter are of course taken. In the murder of Jack McVitie, Ronnie Kray’s role is downplayed while Reggie Kray’s motivation is given a more emotional bent. There is also the issue of Ron’s sexuality: while he did have relationships with men he also had a relationship with a woman called Monica during the period in which the film is set. However, this is something that Helgeland glosses over.

While Legend doesn’t offer the most accurate or insightful look at the Krays, it does convey the glamour and celebrity that surrounded them in their heyday. It manages this without sanitising the brutality that allowed them to rise to the top of London’s underworld. Together, this makes Legend an interesting exploration of what makes the Krays culturally fascinating, as well as a worthy addition to the canon of British gangster films. 

Me and Earl and the Dying Girl review

Greg (Thomas Mann) is in his senior year of high school. Graduation is just around the corner. Despite his parent’s concerns, however, he seems unwilling to seriously consider the idea of going to college. Instead, he focuses his energy on blending in and making movie parodies with his friend Earl (Ronald Cyler II).

Then one day his mum tells him that a girl at his school called Rachel (Olivia Cooke) has been diagnosed with leukaemia and, after some wonderful scenes of emotional battery, persuades him to first call and then to visit her. Although Rachel is at first reluctant to engage with Greg, she soon becomes charmed by his quirky personality.

The rest of the film sees the friendship between them grow with Earl also becoming involved so that the three of them form a mutually supportive trio.

A tight script from Jesse Andrews (author of the novel upon which the film is based) ensures that Me and Earl and the Dying Girl treads a well-judged line between comedy and drama. It avoids the clichés and calculated sentimentality that can plague a film dealing with emotive issues; as Greg says, ‘this isn’t a touching romantic story.’

Empty platitudes and motivational speeches are also helpfully avoided and are in fact made mock of in a scene where Greg and Rachel humorously imagine what the responses of their peers will be to Rachel’s diagnosis.

The performances from the three leads are suitably assured although in comparison to the other two title characters Earl is curiously underdeveloped. It also seems a shame that the friendship between him and Greg is not explored in greater depth.

Jon Bernthal (from The Walking Dead) makes his mark on the film in a small but important role as the heavily-tattooed history teacher Mr. McCarthy. A scene in which he recounts the events surrounding the death of his father to Greg is especially poignant and has a profound effect on Greg later in the film.

Rather than feeling emotionally manipulated, you come away from Me and Earl and the Dying Girl feeling you have watched a very natural and unforced piece of human drama. Refreshingly it treats its audience as adults and not children who require a cushion placing between them and life’s truths. 

The Diary of a Teenage Girl review

‘I had sex today…holy shit,’ 15-year old Minnie (Bel Powley) declares at the beginning of The Diary of a Teenage Girl. Such frankness about sex is nothing new in the coming of age film: think Superbad, Kidulthood, Fish Tank. What makes The Diary of a Teenage Girl different from those, however, is its focus on a female sexuality relatively free from exploitation; rather than being pressured into having sex, Minnie has it because she enjoys it.

Set in San Francisco in 1976, the film shows us Minnie’s life as she grows up in a home with her younger sister, her mother (Kristen Wiig), and her mother’s boyfriend Monroe (Alexander Skarsgard). It is the 35-year old Monroe who Minnie loses her virginity to and who is thus responsible for her rapturous declaration at the film’s beginning.

The relationship between Minnie and Monroe becomes increasingly complicated as the film progresses. And as an outlet for her thoughts and feelings, Minnie draws cartoons, which are amusingly brought to life in a series of animated sequences.

Bel Powley is excellent as the teenage Minnie and manages to convey all the naivety, recklessness, and insecurity of somebody transitioning into adulthood. Strong support is provided by Kristen Wiig who, although playing it relatively seriously, has several funny moments as Minnie’s hippie-ish and frequently drug-addled mother. It is Alexander Skarsgard who is particularly worthy of praise though for the depth and complexity he brings to the character of Monroe; a person who, for all his posturing, is essentially as insecure and immature as Minnie.

Considering Minnie’s and Monroe’s relationship and Minnie’s resultant sexual awakening are the driving forces in the film’s narrative, the inclusion of a subplot involving Minnie’s former stepfather Pascal (Christopher Meloni) seems out of place. Meloni appears, says some lines, disappears, and is barely mentioned again. This is one of the film’s few flaws, however.

There was controversy when the BBFC decided to award the film an 18 certificate, something which absurdly prevents most teenage girls from seeing a film about a teenage girl. The BBFC’s rationale was that the film’s sex scenes and references were too numerous and that a 15 certificate wouldn't be 'defensible.' Considering that many films featuring extreme violence are routinely given 15 certificates, this seems quite ridiculous.

Indeed, if those responsible for assigning a classification had watched the film with a more open mind they might have taken note of its positive message; a message that says you should be happy within your own skin and shouldn’t rely on others to fulfil you. In a world obsessed with image and status, this is something today’s teenagers need to hear.