Birdman

So, Whiplash – a brilliant film about a drummer. Birdman – a brilliant film with a drumming soundtrack. Though the similarities end there in terms of pace and style, as Birdman is the latest from Alejandro González Iñárritu, a director not known for yelling “cut” until all the reel in the film has been used up. Personally, I’ve found Iñárritu’s previous Hollywood efforts cold to the touch and more often than not a little dull (they’re a world away from his blistering Amores perros calling card). Things are a bit different here though thanks to a witty script, solid acting and some wizardry with the camera. Michael Keaton stars as Riggan Thomson, a washed-up actor famous for playing a superhero (the Birdman of the title) in his prime, but now trying to win the respect of the establishment by starring in and directing a Broadway production of a Raymond Carver story. Iñárritu’s camera follows Riggan as he smooches around the backstage of the theatre in which he is attempting to put on his show. It’s not an easy ride as he finds himself hampered at almost every turn, from a bonkers co-star in the shape of Edward Norton to the distractions of the the main ladies in his life (ex-wife, daughter, girlfriend). As a storyline that would pretty much still play fine on itself, but Iñárritu’s also throws in the curve ball that Riggan appears to also have inherited a number of superpowers (levitation and telekinesis amongst them) which he utilises every now and then. Whether these acts are real or imagined, Iñárritu leaves to the viewers interpretation. I’m not sure the script really needed such a twist though as the film would work fine without them, though you could argue it helps cement Thomson’s ever fraying mind set. Talking of tricks, the film is notable for (with a few exceptions) being portrayed as being shot in one continuous take (Hitchcock and De Palma fans rejoice). Though it’s a trick, it’s an absorbing and highly impressive one. If you read on-line about the colossal preparation undertaken to produce such an effect, it’s heady stuff indeed. I guess the extras on the Blu-Ray will be something to behold. However, though the film should rightly be lauded for it’s technical prowess, does this distract us from the films limitations? As a satirical swipe at actors it doesn’t really work and its hard to care for any of the characters who are virtually all fairly despicable in their various different ways. Plus, the special effects for the main “Birdman” scene are a bit ropey and some performances barely register (you’ll hardly recall either Andrea Riseborough or Amy Ryan being in this by the time you’ve passed through the cinema exit door). Who does register though is Keaton. It’s actually quite rare for him to appear in a mainstream film these days, but clearly the ex-Batman couldn’t resist the (somewhat painful I guess) irony of the role in question. He’s great here though, displaying a gamut of emotions (watch for the superb moment where he deceives Norton into thinking he was abused as a child) as Riggan tries ever desperately to get his play down pat and finally earn the critical (not commercial) respect of his audience and peers. Arguably Norton is even better. Norton seems to be one of those actors who gets rave reviews for one-note performances, but he’s off the scale here as Mike Shiner, a credible stage actor, who has some serious insecurity issues despite his outward confidence (Hello, all actors!). Sadly he pretty much disappears around the halfway point and the film doesn’t quite ever regain it’s thrust. Though also look out for Zach Galifianakis (in one of his few “straight” performances) giving a small role some understated kudos. Ah – should also mention that drumming. Antonio Sanchez is the man with the sticks and his sharp playing is nicely matched up pacing wise by Iñárritu to whatever’s happening on the screen. Overall, this is a triumph for meticulous planning, but will it elicit repeat viewings though? From the technical side of things I’d say definitely. As a whole package though, I’m not so sure. Rating: 8/10.

Whiplash

They say to budding authors to write about what you know and first time writer / director Damien Chazelle has done just that for his mesmerising film debut, telling the story of student jazz drummer Andrew Neiman (Miles Teller) and his combustible relationship with volcanic teacher Terrance Fletcher (J.K. Simmons). Plot wise that’s pretty much it, but Chazelle’s film doesn’t need to venture much further than that basic premise as it’s locked in place by two barnstorming performances by its leads, a tight script, economic direction and, as you’d expect, a foot tapping score. The battle between Neiman and Fletcher is what drives the entire film. From Neiman’s innocence and naivety in response to Fletcher’s early friendly putting him at ease encouragement, up to the scenes of physical and mental abuse, it’s a contest between the two that, crucially, is mainly controlled by Fletcher as he holds the keys to Neiman’s Kingdom. The two leads are an interesting mix. Teller has plenty of films under his belt already, though nothing to suggest he has the talent he shows here. Simmons on the other hand is great in everything he is in, but has never had that one standout performance. They’re both utterly superb here. Teller’s Neiman is in every single scene of the film, meaning that Simmons’ Fletcher is more of an enigma. The approach works though, as Fletcher is already the more (if flawed) rounded character, but Neiman has still to choose his path. I mentioned earlier that the film doesn’t stray far from the head to head between the two leads, but when it does Chazelle quickly and efficiently shows us what we need to know with the minimal of fuss and we move on. To wit – Neiman’s family and relationships. Though Paul Reiser appears sporadically as Neiman’s father, the whole family dynamic is explained away in a quick dinner table scene, which also includes the films best one-liner. It’s a proficient approach that in other film makers hands would have taken all day to explain. Any love interest for Neiman is dealt with in a similar fashion. He has a meet-cute which is expanded out into one date scene, before all is abruptly finished when he dumps her as he claims he won’t have time for her anymore due to his drumming. It’s brutality as honesty from Neiman, but it isn’t even the total truth. In reality Neiman feels she will impact on his quest to be one of the greatest of all time. Chazelle makes it clear to the viewer that nothing will get in Neiman’s way – hence the full blown horn locking that develops with Fletcher. Lets move on to Chazelle himself. As mentioned at the start, Chazelle wrote this based on his own personal experience of being a jazz drummer in a high school band. So the fact he knows his floor-tom from his hi-hat is hardly a surprise. He’s clearly a clever cookie though as, a novice director he may be, but he knows the basic rule of cinema and follows it to the letter – that being you only include scenes that move the storyline along and / or progress characterisation. The best TV drama’s have been doing that to a tee for the last decade (which explains why we’re in such a purple patch for unmissable idiot-box viewing), but so many films ignore this standard for fear of not having a bloody two hour plus running time. Whiplash is as lean as it comes and there’s zero fat here. OK, I slightly twisted it when I said this is Chazelle’s debut feature, but only the most factious would count his non-mainstream released micro budget effort Guy and Madeline on a Park Bench from 2009 as a feature film (however, that film was also a study in jazz, so the teeth cutting had already begun). Throw in the fact that this was shot in only nineteen days, it’s clear that Chazelle knows how to portray his vision. Plus, just to make us all feel worthless as well – he was only 29 years old when he shot this. Though the triumphal triumvirate of Chazelle, Teller and Simmons is what makes this one of the best films in recent memory, huge kudos must go to the films editor Tom Cross as well. Aptly named, he cross-cuts to such spectacular effect (especially during the musical numbers) that it was only on a second viewing of the film that I made a conscious decision to look at just how many edits there are. There are loads, but instead of getting a Tony Scott inspired headache, Chazelle and Cross have approached it in such a manner that you actually believe you are watching seamless panning. OK, that’s a bit arty I know, but films like this don’t come along very often so they deserve a wider analysis. All this and I haven’t even mentioned the sound. It’s a not quite a requirement on par with something like Berberian Sound Studio, but make sure you see this in a cinema with a decent (and loud) speaker system so you can get the full effect, from the gentle thump of the snare drum that subtly underscores the minimalistic title screen to the breath-taking mayhem of the drum solo that underpins the final scene. Some negative comments have come the way of this in respect of Fletcher’s bullying and crude and coarse insults, but such talk can only described as idiotic. He’s a character in a film. Plus, it’s hardly a plot spoiler to point out that Fletcher isn’t awarded the teacher of the year award come the denouement. Now – that ending. It’s an odd comparison, but it reminded me in a roundabout way of Juan José Campanella’s The Secret In Their Eyes in regards to each film having a narrative that twists and turns over a short period of screen time with the audience having no idea how it’s going to play out. In Whiplash its urgent, dizzying and compelling as the upper hand switches between Neiman and Fletcher minute by minute, until the killer sign off that’ll have you punching the air in response to the music in a manner unseen since the barnstorming climax of Radu Mihaileanu’s The Concert. I think I’ve typed enough now, so I’ll leave the final summation to film critic Robbie Collin who encapsulates the entire film perfectly when he says, “However genius may flourish, you know it when you see it, and Whiplash is it”. Rating: 10/10.

Interstellar

So where to begin with Christopher Nolan’s latest? Perhaps its subject matter. Cinema has been producing films about space exploration since the days of Georges Méliès, so Nolan is hardly breaking new ground here and the main plot strand (that of humans starting life on other planets) has been covered by a number of recent films (Oblivion, After Earth, Elysium et al.), albeit though not really all that successfully. The fascination though lies in Nolan himself. In Interstellar does he go further than the old chestnuts of gravity, perpetual motion, dreams etc.? – No he doesn’t, but that’s not really the point is it? It’s not that we want to watch an epic film about space and the future of the human race – the crux is how does Nolan portray such things? Right, that’s enough of the question marks. Plot wise we’ll be here all day (and keeping away from spoilers), but we follow a group of astronauts (Matthew McConaughey and Anne Hathaway amongst them) as they journey into space in search of a new home, as ole’ planet Earth is on its last legs. So, any good then? It’s the old response: Yes and No. On the technical side of things, it’s hard to find a fault. The practical and digital effects are top notch (the robots in the film are superbly realised and, spoiler alert, don’t become murdering bastards!) and Hoyte van Hoytema’s cinematography is something to swoon at up there on the biggest screen you can find. There are also a number of stand out moments, including the scene where a number of the crew visit a planet, whilst the rest stay on board the spaceship. The catch being that for each hour spent on the planet, time dilation equates one of those hours as seven years for the astronauts left on the craft. Finally, despite it’s length (and a somewhat pat ending), things really kick into gear in the final third with some great plot twists and the surprise appearance of a Hollywood A-lister. The overall irony though is that despite it’s huge scope, this is actually one of Nolan’s least entertaining films. As you’d expect its all based on fact (or at least an agreed version), but that hardly leads to snappy dialogue. In fact, David Gyasi (as one of the astronauts on the mission) only appears to be in the film in order to be the cosmic equivalent of Basil Exposition. Not too mention a scene where Hathaway delivers a monologue about love that she looks embarrassed to be orating. There’s obvious nods (good and bad) to be made to 2001: A Space Odyssey, but Interstellar suffers from an accusation that Kubrick naysayers like to put forward – that of coldness. The lack of warmth and humour of the characters in Interstellar make them feel somewhat distant and, for a film that’s ostensibly about the fight for the continuation of mankind, there are actually very few of the protagonists whose death you would really mourn. Comment should also be made about Hans Zimmer’s overbearing score and the overall sound mix. The soundtrack is somewhat OTT and at times sounds like the B-sides from Tubular Bells, though Zimmer can’t be blamed for it being so damn loud throughout the film it’s actually difficult to pick up some of the dialogue. In addition, there’s far too much mumbling going on at times (particularly at a crucial reveal during a death scene) and what with the Bane fiasco, Nolan is beginning to development some form here. Some fun to finish off with though: For fans of Michael Winterbottom’s The Trip, Michael Caine gives us a new Michael Caine voice here – so no doubt Messrs Coogan and Brydon will be practicing. As for what’s next for Nolan? He’s distanced himself from Bond, but surely a contemporary thriller must be on the cards at some point……Rating: 7/10.