I was awed by this film, with mouth dropping open at the scenery, the use of light, the pattern of rock, the flowing yellow fabric of Lady Jessica’s dress in the desert wind, the explosive bombs dropping from spaceships, desecrating the landscape below and the story of betrayal, political play and intrigue.
There’s that absolute silence that again invites the audience to lean in, to then jump (there are so many jumps!) with explosive action, the audience gasping and twittering as the monsters prowl, purr and claw people apart.
Starring: Darby Camp, Jack Whitehall, Izaac Wang, David Alan Grier, John Cleese, Jessica Keenan Wynn, Sienna Guillory, Russell Wong.
Emily Elizabeth (Darby Camp) has just moved to New York with her mother, Maggie (Sienna Guillory). Emily’s the new girl at a posh school. On a scholarship. The last thing she wants is to stand out.
When her mother has to leave town for work, she leaves Emily with her Uncle Casey (Jack Whitehall). A happy-to-lucky individual now living out of his van who, ‘thinks green M&Ms are a vegetable.’
When uncle and niece see an Animal Rescue tent, Uncle Casey’s instinct is it’s a great idea to go in. So they probably shouldn’t.
And that’s when the magical and lovely Mr. Bridwell (John Cleese) introduces Emily to a small red puppy.
He’s so cute and tiny.
But they’re not looking for a pet and Emily’s mum would not be happy. And neither would the super of the building – No dogs!
To which Mr Bridwell replies, ‘Best time to find them is when you’re not looking for them.’
It’s all a bit lovely.
I didn’t think I’d be taken with this animated red dog. But the way his tail keeps wagging happiness and those expressive brown eyes kinda got me.
Emily really needs a friend, but Uncle Casey is adamant, ‘I’m not going to fall for your little girl powers!’
But somehow, the little red dog makes it into their hearts. And home. Because it’s magic, right?
And with a single tear of love and a wish for the small red puppy to become big and strong so the world can’t hurt them, what was small and cute becomes enormous and, Clifford, The Big Red Dog.
This is a film about growing up, with a little magical help to stand up and be confident mixed in with the funny antics of a big red puppy knocking over everything, chasing large balls with people running inside them and the asides from Uncle Casey who sees the sloth as his spirit animal.
The film’s a blend of the animated dog with human characters in real world settings with, sneezes-in-the-face reactions and well-delivered lines that I found surprisingly funny.
I enjoyed, Clifford the Big Red Dog more than I thought I would, originally thinking the humour would be targeted at a much younger audience. But there’s some ticklish humour here for the adults (the uncle saying he doesn’t wear deodorant because why mask our natural musk?!) and some mad, nasty sheep that’s just funny for everyone.
It’s not all rainbows and butterflies. There’s a big corporation trying to invent big food to feed the world so of course they want to pull apart the magic that is Clifford to find out what makes him so big.
They can’t win though. Because it’s love that makes him big.
It’s just one of those kind of movies.
And there’s a nice message there for the young kids as well, ‘The people who are unique? They’re the ones who will change the world.’ Good fun.
Produced by: Thomas Robsahm, Andrea Berentsen Ottmar
Executive Producers: Dyveke Bjøkly Graver, Tom Erik Kjeseth, Eskil Vogt, Joachim Trier
Starring: Renate Reinsve, Anders Danielsen Lie, Herbert Nordrum, Hans Olav Brenner, Helene Bjørneby.
Viewed in Norwegian with English Subtitles
“You need to be completely free.”
Julie (Renate Reinsve) stands smoking in a black cocktail dress with the city in the background.
The Worst Person In the World follows Julie as she figures out life.
She starts off studying to be a surgeon, then psychology then photography.
Moving from one thing to the next, she never quite finishes anything. But she lives and loves.
The film is set out in 12 chapters, with a prologue and epilogue. This is the analytical part of the film and something the character Aksel (Anders Danielsen Lie) would appreciate. He’s a comic creator that analyses everything.
Julie loves him.
But doesn’t love him.
Aksel tells her, You need to be completely free.’
That’s the first time she realises that she loves him.
Until she meets Eivind (Herbert Nordrum).
In an interview with director and screenwriter Joachim Trier, he’s asked to talk, “more about the very literary way the film is broken into chapters?”
“We had this idea early on when writing: to show fragments of a life and that the space between the chapters was as important as what we actually see. This is a coming-of-age film but for grownups who feel like they still haven’t grown up. To find a structure of covering several years in a life, from when Julie is in her mid-twenties to her early thirties, we found the humour of a “literary” framework to help us tell that story. The almost novelistic form also reflects Julie’s longing for a grand literary destiny, almost as if she unconsciously wishes her life to have a literary form.”
I’m trying not to think too deeply about the explanation of, coming-of-age film but for grownups who feel like they still haven’t grown up. I related to this character, Julie, as she tried to figure out what she wants or why she feels the way she does.
But more than relating to the feelings of how to navigate love while remaining independent and free (yes, am still thinking about the film a week later), the way the film’s put together adds to that feeling of running towards what’s right.
That moment when everything else ceases (literally frozen in the film) as Julie runs through the streets to imagine that feeling of being in the right place. And then going for it. It’s hard not to get swept up into it all.
There’s something refreshing about seeing all those silent thoughts shown in a clever way so the film is more than a romance or a drama, there’s a quiet that’s absorbing. Like the silence is there to allow reflection.
Colours are used to introduce the film: yellow and blue to black and are then circled back to later so there’s this sense of completion, like Julie reaches another layer, like it’s that layer she’s been searching for all along.
And the dialogue adds another element, the, ‘Intellectual Viagra,’ comment.
And, ‘She’s just shy.’
‘That’s what you say about boring people.’
Again, silence used when Aksel says, ‘Kids are intense.’
To which Julie replies by taking a large sip of red wine.
It’s a journey that ended up in places unexpected – sexy, clever, sad and poetic.
If you’re not usually a fan of romance, this is one of the good ones.
Produced by: Grant Hill, James McTeigue, Lana Wachowski
Executive Producers: Bruce Berman, Garrett Grant, Terry Needham, Michael Salven, Karin Wachowski
Based on the Characters Created by: The Wachowskis
Screenplay Written by: Lana Wachowski, David Mitchell, Aleksandar Hemon
Starring: Keanu Reeves, Carrie-Anne Moss, Priyanka Chopra, Jessica Henwick, Yahya Adbul-Mateen II, Jonathan Groff, Daniel Bernhardt, Neil Patrick Harris, Jada Pinkett Smith, Christina Ricci, Lambert Wilson, Daniela Harpaz, Eréndira Ibarra, Max Riemelt, Ellen Hollman, Brian J. Smith.
The Matrix Resurrection introduces this sequel (forth in the series) with a 90s monitor: a square cursor flashing. The code begins scrawling across the screen. In green, of course.
Welcome to The Matrix 2.0.
There’re new characters resurrecting old ones: Mr. Smith (Jonathan Groff) is now Neo’s partner in a gaming company; Morpheus (Yahya Adbul-Mateen II) is back in a new form.
But Neo remains the same (Keanu Reeves). Trinity, now Tiffany (Carrie-Anne Moss), remains. They’re just a little older.
But non-the-wiser.
Ha, ha.
It’s that kind of movie.
There are many puns thrown through-out the film – sometimes heavy-handed like the cat with a tinkling collar named: déjà vu.
Mostly, there’s references to the original Matrix (1999) as the film layers the past into the present, so Resurrections becomes self-referential not only to the original film but also to itself. To the extent that if a moment felt twee, the twee would then be made into a joke like a self-parody.
I noticed the silence at one point only for the silence to be commented on as an indicator of real living outside the Matrix.
It’s a cerebral film asking questions about the concept of choice: the blue or red pill?
Or is it free will versus destiny?
Or is life about fear and desire?
It becomes binary, one or the other – ones and zeros, like the program, The Matrix. Like reality is made up of ones and zeros. Like… The Matrix. Ah!
All mind bending moments aside, it took me a while to invest in Resurrections. Neo was somewhat lacklustre, with the repeated response, ‘yeah.’
But with the rest of the film being so clever, I guess that’s the nature of Neo. Not Neo. Mr. Andrews, still stuck in The Matrix. Even so, the re-layered moments I wasn’t convinced about, like the annoying self-professed ‘geek’ colleague of Mr Anderson remained, annoying.
The film does ramp up and yes there’s a ‘fresh’ take here that will get you thinking. I just wasn’t as convinced as the original because the characters spent so much time making fun of themselves to cover the forced sentiment that would have otherwise been too cheesy.
Screenplay written by: Denis Villeneuve, Eric Roth and Jon Spaihts
Produced by: Mary Parent, Cale Boyter, Joe Caracciolo and Villeneuve
Executive Producers: Tanya Lapointe, Brian Herbert, Byron Merritt, Kim Herbert, Thomas Tull, Jon Spaihts, Richard P. Rubinstein, John Harrison and Herbert W. Gains
Director of Photography: Greig Fraser
Costume Designer: Jacqueline West
Composer: Hans Zimmer
Starring: Timothée Chalamet, Rebecca Ferguson, Oscar Isaac, Josh Brolin, Stellan Skarsgård, Dave Bautista, Zendaya, David Dastmalchian, Stephen Henderson, Charlotte Rampling, with Jason Momoa and Javier Bardem.
The film opens with, “Dreams are messages from the deep,” written across the screen. A thread that flows through-out the film lending that magical touch to a film that at its foundation, is political intrigue.
Based on the novel written by Frank Herbert, Dune(Part One) is a story of the desert, greed, vengeance, witches and blood.
I was reminded at times of the previous adaptation directed by David Lynch, Dune (1984), immediately taken back with the spit scene, the device used so well then and used again here like a nod of respect to the previous film. There’s also John Harrison’s 2000 miniseries, “Frank Herbert’s Dune.” And the 2003 sequel miniseries titled “Frank Herbert’s Children of Dune,” starring James McAvoy. However, I’m reviewing Dune(2021) without comparison, preferring to take the film as it stands.
It’s 10191. The House of Harkonnen has been mining spice from the desert sands of Arrakis for the last 80 years getting obscenely rich, while the people of Arrakis are given nothing by the Outsiders but violence and pain in return.
It’s a system that has worked well. So why does the Emperor decide to give The House of Atreides the right to move into the desert city and take over the mining?
House of Atreides is powerful. Too powerful.
‘When is a gift not a gift?’
The Duke’s son, Paul Atreides (Timothée Chalamet) has to learn about the politics of the Empire quickly. He’s been trained to fight by Gurney Halleck (Josh Brolin), he’s been counselled by his father, The Duke (Oscar Isaac), he has been shown The Path by his mother, Lady Jessica (Rebecca Ferguson).
So he trains, he listens to his father. And he dreams.
I liked the serious tone of, Dune, offset by the warmth of Paul’s friend, Duncan (Jason Momoa) and his father.
‘What do they say of Arrakis?’
‘To shower, you scrub your arse with sand.’
But mostly, Dune is a dark film. The waking life of Paul sometimes the stuff of nightmares with giant worms shifting the sand from beneath like the waves of an ocean, their massive mouths filled with teeth to suck anything that makes sound into their abyss; and the cruelty as the innocent are beheaded without actually seeing the gore – you don’t need to see the dead to know the deed is being done.
This is more about the foreboding build of tension that Denis Villeneuve does so well.
The film begins with the sound of a thudding heartbeat.
And here, Villeneuve’s trademark usage of the soundtrack is layered with the sound of different languages spoken and the silence of hands moving in sign language like the thread of the story pulled together into this web of intrigue from the Emperor and his games, the brutal Harkonnen made rich from mining spice, the mystery of the people of Arrakis and the dangerous power passed from Paul’s mother, Lady Jessica to her son.
What threw me was the introduction of hope into the film.
I enjoyed the desert aesthetic and tribal feel of the Arrakis people, but the hope of the people was pushed into dramatic territory and the build of tension began to fade.
But wow, I was awed by this film, with mouth dropping open at the scenery, the use of light, the pattern of rock, the flowing yellow fabric of Lady Jessica’s dress in the desert wind, the explosive bombs dropping from spaceships, desecrating the landscape below and the story of betrayal, political play and intrigue.
