Same format as last time. 3 reviews, all less than, or equal to, 250
words. Enjoy.
The Counterfeiters
German cinema, and to a lesser
extent, Spanish cinema, has always been the equivalent of the under-appreciated
middle child in European film, with its intelligent, progressive, ambitious
siblings, French and Italian cinema, taking most of the plaudits. This is in
spite of Deutschland producing some of the most important and brilliant directors in film history, seemingly like clockwork; Fritz Lang, Wim Wenders,
everyone’s favourite nutcase, Werner Herzog, and more recently, Olivier
Hirschbiegel. I’d go as far as saying that it’s my third favourite country, cinematically at least,
behind British and Korean. At the risk of sounding racist, German films are efficiently
solid viewing. The Counterfeiters, a
war drama about Jews who were recruited into a Nazi counterfeiting (funnily
enough) operation tasked with destabilising the British and American economies,
continues this trend. While it never quite flirts with the promised land of
filmic greatness, it remains a well-acted, powerfully told insight into one of
World War Two’s forgotten acts of bravery. There are excellent performances
from Karl Markovics and August Diehl as two Jewish prisoners facing suitably
difficult moral dilemmas; compromise your beliefs and survive, or martyr
yourself as a hero for your cause. Devid Striesow is intriguingly complex as
the officer in charge of the operation, sort of like a less charismatic, and chubbier,
Oskar Schindler. He is utterly nonchalant about anti-semitism, and is only
concerned with his personal success. The noirish, brass-focussed score is
effective, and the ending, although predictable, is satisfying. A rewarding and
moving, if not awe-inspiring, watch.
Tyrannosaur
Tyrannosaur is
Paddy Considine’s (who I’ve met outside the Greggs on Sauchiehall Street in Glasgow by the
way. Through the medium of online journalism, it’s as good a situation as any
for name-dropping) directorial debut, and to use an English colloquialism, it
is an absolute corker. After giving one
of my all-time favourite performances in Dead
Man’s Shoes, one of the most disturbing and gut-wrenching films ever made,
Considine proves here that he has just as much ability behind the camera as in
front of it. His camerawork in portraying working class England is, inevitably,
reminiscent of his mentor Shane Meadows, but it works effortlessly in the development of the appropriately depressing setting,
and the quality of his writing is perhaps, although not as funny, even better
than his aforementioned tutor. Eddie Marsan, is back at his best here, playing,
yet again, a creepy, sad, terrifying little man. He plays this role so often
that I’m beginning to think he might well be a creepy, sad, terrifying little
man... Peter Mullan, a consistently excellent actor and faithful Celtic
season-ticket holder, is even better. His heavy Glaswegian accent emphasises
his abhorrence, anger and bitterness towards everyone and everything and it is
terrifying to behold, yet the warmth he occasionally shows also incites in him
a deeply sympathetic character. The highlight however is Olivia Colman. No
superlative can adequately describe her. Very probably the best performance
by an actress I’ve seen. Just watch her. She is quite literally jaw-dropping. A
free hug for whoever spots the Celtic scarf Easter egg.
Ironclad
Ironclad can be summed up very simply and easily. It’s really,
really terrible. But it’s also very, very violent. Which, when I assume the
adolescent, testosteroney version of myself, (the same badass version who takes
criminal delight in driving through red lights in Grand Theft Auto IV, and killing spiders in the house without shedding
a single tear out of overwhelming fear which has clearly, obviously never
happened before), it actually makes it quite good. Yes, the acting, dialogue
and pacing are all completely rubbish, but you don’t watch a film like Ironclad for a Shakespearean-quality
character study. You watch it to cry out ‘OOFFTTT’ as a guy is pummelled into 4
feet of mud with his own leg by an ugly, crazed, bearded maniac. You watch it to proclaim
‘EEERRGHHHH’ as a warrior’s decapitated head is used as a small shield by his adversary.
You watch it to yell ‘OH GEE WHILLICKERS’ as some randomer is strangled to
death with his small intestine, while his friend intervenes by cutting every
main artery of the strangler, deflating him like a gore-filled balloon. Maybe.
I don’t know, this analogy isn’t going anywhere. Basically, you watch it for
gallons of blood being sprayed over the camera lens, and plenty of limbs flying
all over the place like they’re unfunny jokes in an episode of The Big Bang Theory. It delivers in the
brainless entertainment stakes. If you want anything other than an
ultra-violent crapfest, you’ll be sorely disappointed.
See? Quite violent...
No comments:
Post a Comment