TFR: THE WAR AND CONFLICT ISSUE

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EDITOR’S NOTE ATTEEEEEEEEN---TION! Well now that I’ve got your (ahem) attention I’d like to say thank you, dear reader, for picking up a copy of Trinity Film Review.

As you’ve probably gathered from the cover and the surrounding images, the theme of the issue is WAR AND CONFLICT. Over the next 30 odd pages you’ll find essays on Vietnam, an examination of war documentaries and a look at some of the most memorable conflict related moments ever committed to celluloid. We’ve also got reviews of the stunning Holocaust documentary Night Will Fall and the thrilling, Belfast set drama ‘71.

And if all that sounds a tad heavy then we have reviews of upcoming features like Annabelle and Showrunners as well as our old favourties like Netflix Graveyard / Hidden Gem and 5 Word Reviews.

I’d like to take this opportunity to thank David Cullinan and Robyn Hamilton who served as editors for TFR last year and gave us some great content which we’ll do our best to match in the coming months. I’d also like to think the editorial team, our cover designer and our many contributors for providing excellent pieces for the issue. We look forward to bringing you much more of that over the course of the college year.

So until next time.

At ease private.

JACK O’KENNEDY

“Es ist alles verloren.

Hoffnungslos verloren” “Everything is lost.

Hopelessly lost” Rarely has a real world conflict occurred free from complexities, moral grey areas, or other unsatisfying discrepancies which prevent it from being understood as a simple clash of good and evil. This is partially why the Second World War is so often used as a setting for blockbuster films. The realities of that war, beginning with the aggressive expansion of a racist, anti-Semitic, authoritarian regime, fit remarkably well within the template offered to us in films and stories.

Because the Nazi party is so widely accepted as the most terrible of evils, there is little

MODERN MASTERPIECE concern that they are so regularly used as disposable baddies in simplified narratives of WWII. There is a danger to this way of thinking. Aside from being used as a blanket justification for the atrocities committed by the Allies during the war, this representation of the Nazis forgets the most terrifying aspect of their regime, and the most important lesson of the war: the Nazis were people, just like you and me. Far more terrifying than a nation of soulless monsters is a nation of humans – with typically human fears, motives, and doubts – that were somehow capable of ignoring, allowing, or committing some of the greatest horrors in the history of the world. Learning to sympathise with the Nazi perspective can teach a great deal more about the horror of that war, and the horrors within ourselves.

Oliver Hirschbiegel’s Der Untergang, or Downfall, takes place in Hitler’s bunker during the final days of the defence of Berlin.

Based primarily on the writings of Traudl Junge, Hitler’s personal secretary, the film follows her and a number of other individuals living in the German capital as the city fell to the Russians. The film portrays some of the most infamous members of the Nazi state through the eyes of their closest friends, eavesdropping on their most private last moments. The jarring effect of this positive light is captured in the very first scene: Junge’s first interview with Hitler. Hitler does not appear spouting hate from a podium or plotting the extermination of an entire race.

Instead, he is first encountered in his private quarters: a charismatic, grandfatherly figure, speaking in a tender voice and petting his beloved dog. Bruno Ganz gives an

Typical themes of war films are explored in Der Untergang: loyalty, honour, and the conflict of ideology and practicality in the face of mortality. By situating these within Nazi Berlin, Der Untergang defamiliarises these classic themes, disorienting the common attribution of good and evil in such scenarios

DER UNT

entrancing performance as the Fuhrer, constantly veering between kindly old man and ferocious zealot. It is shocking to see him suddenly shifting into caustic rants, and far more deeply disturbing to see that friendly face returning moments later.

The inherent likability of Ganz’s Hitler is the lynchpin around which the film’s disturbing effect is structured. By populating its cast exclusively with “villains” – people who actively or passively supported the Nazi regime – yet still playing off our sympathies, the simplistic tags generally attached to Nazis as inhuman monsters are gradually lifted. By exploring the complex interpersonal relationships of the Nazis, we are offered a much more wide-ranging understanding of the Nazi mindset, with diehard fanatics on one side and those trying to do their jobs, follow their principles, or simply get by on the other. On the hardcore end of this spectrum are the Goebbels family, more loyal to the Third Reich than life itself, and on the other end there is SS Doctor Ernst-Gunther Schenck, whose commitments are stronger to his medical profession than the Nazi state.

By highlighting the divisions in a society and culture infamously known for its emphasis on strength and unity, Der Untergang offers an insight into a nation of individual voices, judging the structure they inhabit by their own personal codes.

Typical themes of war films are explored in Der Untergang: loyalty, honour, and the conflict of ideology and practicality in the face of mortality. By situating these within Nazi Berlin, Der Untergang defamiliarises these classic themes, disorienting the common attribution of good and evil in such scenarios. For instance, throughout the film, Heinrich Himmler and his assistant Hermann Fegelein plot to subvert Hitler’s authority and surrender to the allies. Contextualised within the personal sacrifice of those who chose to stay by Hitler’s side in spite of insurmountable odds, the two are codified as villains, betraying their leader for personal gain. It is not the actual effect of these actions in the context of world history that concerns us, but the ideological weight behind them. The film places the viewer by default in support of the Nazi regime, and in doing so indicates the power of ideologies to shape the way we perceive the world.

Through the tools of narrative, it temporarily turns us into Nazi sympathisers, punctuating this unsettling prospect with regular

turmoil, the film simulates the experience of watching the death of an ideal.

The pairing of the supposed Nazi übermensch with the concept of a downfall or “der untergang” is a complete subversion of the Nazi view of the world. This massive paradox is symbolised throughout, with regular references to moving down and going under.

The heads of the Nazi state spend the film cowering in a network of bunkers and tunnels while the last scraps of their great Reich shrinks closer and closer around them like a noose. Hitler’s outburst in the war room, a

an air raid siren. Braun, ever eerily cheery, announces that they must return to the “unter”, that absolute paradox that refuses to be resolved. The decay of Berlin reflects the decay of the universe the Nazi party acted towards: the dream of a perfect world that for some was worth the massacre of civilians and the extermination of entire races.

For some the loss of this dream is the loss of any conceivable future. A tomorrow without the Nazi regime is one so unpalatable for Joseph and Magda Goebbels that they poison their own children to spare them from

NTERGANG (DOWNFALL) reminders of the most disgusting aspects of Nazi thinking. In the end, Himmler gets away only to be captured and executed by the allies and Fegelein is executed by a Nazi firing squad while Berlin crumbles around him. Similarly, the Nazi ideology which the film lures the audience into is slowly chipped away, with Hitler’s evident madness surfacing more regularly as the certainty of loss becomes all the greater. Within this

scene well known for the wealth of parodies it has inspired, displays the incompatibility of Nazi thinking and this state of affairs in which the übermensch cowers below while the untermensch casts down thunder from above. This subversion is also referenced linguistically. A brief, peaceful scene in which Junge and Eva Braun gaze at a statue somehow left immaculate by the incessant bombings is abruptly cut off by the blast of

it. For them, this unthinkable paradox can only be solved with complete oblivion. For the less fanatical, the solution is far less obvious. Traudl Junge, Doctor Ernst-Gunther Schenck, and the myriad of other Germans with more complex relationships to the Nazi system they are part of, are left in the uncertain aftermath of the death of an ideal.

It is this central concern which makes Der Untergang a unique war film. In relegating the military actions, violence, and explosions to the background scenery, and instead focusing on the effect of war on an ideological level, the film offers a profound outlook on humanity. Der Untergang explores through the collapse of an ideal the way that those ideals shape our decisions and perspectives. The film ends showing Traudl and a young boy saved from the Soviet razing of Berlin cycling through the German countryside. For the first time, the film seems to indicate a hope of leaving dead ideals in the past. However, this is immediately followed by an interview with Junge as an old woman, expressing remorse and regret for the person she was and the way she acted underneath the Nazi state. This pensive final chord suggests that while our ideologies do not define ourselves, their mark on us can never be erased.

EOIN MOORE

WAIT

A “Americans making a movie about what Vietnam did to their soldiers is like a serial killer telling you what stopping suddenly for hitchhikers did to his clutch” - Frankie Boyle.

Depictions of war have been a staple of cinema since the beginning of the form with controversial films such as D. W. Griffith’s Birth of a Nation in 1915. 1978 saw the release of a different kind of war film in Michael Cimino’s The Deer Hunter. While there had been previous examples of films that explored the moral ambiguities of war such as Kubrick’s ‘Dr. Strangelove’, for the most part, war movies were a much more black and white affair, the noble allies versus the evil Germans. The main reason for this lack of ambiguity was largely down to how America saw itself at the time. There was little grey area when it came to Hitler and his Nazi army. In the decades following WW2 the Nazi’s were nothing more than pantomimic villains and foils for “the good guys” from ‘Casablanca’ in the forties to ‘The Great Escape’ in thesixties .However, the breakdown of the classic Hollywood system in the sixties saw more freedom being afforded to a new generation of filmmakers, allowing them to explore more complex issues than ever before. Chief among America’s pre-occupations in the seventies was dealing with the aftermath of the Vietnam war. Unlike WW2, the Americans were less successful in their endeavors overseas, leading to questions about the reasonings behind the war.

This was also compounded by the Watergate scandal and the ramifications of Richard Nixon’s legacy, leaving the country with a much more pessimistic outlook.

Of this new generation, Martin Scorsese was perhaps the first to deal directly with the Vietnam war. ‘Taxi Driver’, while not strictly speaking a war movie, is certainly a film which deals with Vietnam, while steering clear of the politics, at a time when perceptions were still muddled. Scorsese instead

chooses to deal with the effects the war had on a single person.Travis Bickle is presented as a delusional insomniac suffering from post traumatic stress disorder. While the film is about so much more than Vietnam, the film’s presentation of a man unable to adjust back to normal life can be viewed as a social commentary on the state of affairs in America post Vietnam. The fact that Bickle and his violent outbursts are celebrated by the end of film is an even more disturbing analogy. Two years later De Niro would feature in Cimino’s ‘The Deer Hunter’. While there had been previous attempts to put the Vietnam war on film, ‘Deer Hunter’ broke new ground in terms of notoriety, going on to win the Academy Award for best picture.

For Cimino, the prologue and epilogue of the war take precedence over the war itself. The film’s first act shows a small mining town celebrating a wedding and bidding farewell to a group of young men as they prepare to go off to war. The film’s third act deals with the devastating effects the war has had not just on the individual men, but on the community as a whole. Cimino’s film set the template for the loss of innocence being a prevalent theme in films dealing with Vietnam. The Deer Hunter has been described as a “negative American classic”, displaying a level of cynicism that was previously unseen in the American war film – best exemplified in the films final scene in which the characters, gathered around a table ironically sing “God bless America”.

While The Deer Hunter does not glorify the conflict by any stretch of the imagination, it’s presentation of the war is problematic. Most egregious of all is the treatment of the Vietnamese, who are given no personality. They are merely an entity and their representation is nothing short of racist. However, only a fraction of the film actually takes place in the war , like Taxi Driver it focuses on the characters, steering clear of contextualising the conflict.

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THE BAD GUYS

NOW?

Louie Carroll looks at the evolution of the war film in the aftermath of Vietnam A year after The Deer Hunter came Apocalypse Now possibly the most famous and revered of all ‘Nam movies. Francis Ford Coppola’s masterpiece was as much of an ordeal to shoot as the conflict that unfolds on screen. Most notably when the lead actor Martin Sheen suffering a near fatal heart attack during the production. The film is based on Joseph Conrad’s 1902 book ‘Heart of Darkness’, set in the Belgian Congo, which gives some indication as to the lack of concern for the politics of the Vietnam war.

Indeed the film is more of a philosophical meditation on the insanity of war and an exploration of evil. The basic premise has a feel of universal applicability, with echoes of Homer’s The Odyssey. From the first scene accompanied by the doors “This is the End” to the films ambiguous ending, Coppola views war through an intoxicated, almost stoned lense.

If the seventies saw the first attempts at dealing with the difficult issue of America and its involvement in Vietnam, with a focus on

the personal, the eighties would see a broadening of scope to the wider political context.

Enter Oliver Stone, Vietnam veteran turned filmmaker with Platoon in 1986, his first of a number of films to deal with the Vietnam war. The film’s tagline “The first casualty of war is innocence”, gets to a similar theme expressed in The Deer Hunter, although Stone goes to greater lengths to show it in practice.

Platoon follows Charlie Sheen (continuing the family tradition of appearing in classic Vietnam films) as a nineteen year old private who finds himself in the middle of a fight for his soul between two sergeants: Willem Dafoe’s hippy and Tom Berenger’s more hard line commando. In a sense this conceit is a heavy handed way of showing the corruption of innocence, however Stone can be afforded some leniency considering he was there and we weren’t .

Stone’s proximity to the issue brings with it a number of issues. On the downside, his own emotional involvement could be seen to cloud his judgement, on the other hand his own experiences give the film, particularly the scenes of war, an authenticity previously unseen. If Apocalypse Now is a bad acid trip, then Platoon is the wake up call. Stone uses a voice over narration from Sheen who acts as the middleman between the director and his audience, expressing his own strong opinions about the war, “Somebody once said that hell is the impossibility of reason, that’s a lot what this place feels like.”

A year later the master Stanley Kubrick turned his hand to Vietnam, with mixed results. Full Metal jacket is a film of two halves.

The first shows the brutal process of turning a man into a mindless killing machine. The

films opening scene show the young men having their heads shaved, much like sheep, ready to follow without question. Jacket will be best remembered for R. Lee Ermy as the savage drill sergeant. In the second half, Kubrick betrays his own reputation as a perfectionist by refusing to travel by plane to anywhere remotely resembling Vietnam.

Instead opting to shoot in Batersea Powerstation in London. However, the film is still noteworthy because of it’s unforgettable first half.

1989 saw the release of Brian de Palma’s underrated Casualties of War, which picks up where Platoon left off and in no uncertain terms portrays the American soldiers as the wrongdoers. It is definitely more sympathetic towards the plight of the Vietnamese people than most other Vietnam films, here portrayed as victims rather than merely an obstacle. Like Platoon, the film centers on a moral tug of war this time between Sean Penn’s maniacal Sergeant and the good natured Michael J. Fox. Even a film like First Blood (not counting it’s sequels), the most conventional action film of those discussed here deals with many of the same issue including PTSD, rejection of Vets by the rest of their country. The introduction of the Vietnam film into the canon of war movies broadened the scope for what a war film could be, not just a battle between good and evil. Subsequently war has been presented in all manner of ways – including films like Bigelo’ws The Hurt Locker and Zero Dark Thirty, which highlight the muddy moral middle groundthat most conflicts take place in.

SHELL SHOCK

CASABLANCA

SIMON O’CARROLL German soldiers comandeer Sam’s piano and proceed to hammer out a rendition (to the disapproving audience of Rick’s Cafe) of a German patriotic song, Die Wacht en Rhein. Upon discovering this, Victor Lazlo (Paul Reinhard) requests the house band to play the French National Anthem in retaliation and in honour of Occupied France.

Rick (Humphrey Bogart) gives the nod. Within an instant, all the supressed cafe-patrons leap from their seats to join Lazlo in a breath-taking performance of an already awe-inspiring anthem.

Fists are raised. Tears are shed.

Germans are drowned out and put in their place.

This scene never fails to induce goosebumps and demonstrates how not all of the battles are fought on the frontline. What the people lacked in artillery, they made up in something the oppressive hand of war can never stifle: National Pride

THE TFR STAFF DISCUSS THE SCENES FROM WAR CINEMA THAT HAD THE BIGGEST IMPACT ON THEM

UNFORGETTACOME AND SEE EOIN MOORE

Finding a particularly striking scene in Idi i smotri (Come and See) is a difficult task. The film, a harrowing depiction of the Nazi occupation of the Byellorussian SSR, is a catalogue of horrifying imagery, unflinching brutality, and unimaginable suffering. Yet in spite of this it is the final scene, offering a moment of poignant consideration, which remains the most memorable and impactful.

Flyora, a child soldier who over the course of the film has had every vestige of his humanity stripped away, comes across a framed portrait of Adolf Hitler.

He begins furiously unloading his rifle into the picture as,

with ever bang, the scene cuts to archived footage of the war and Nazi Germany, playing in reverse. Crumbled buildings rise from the earth, parachuting soldiers return to their planes, and marching Nazis retreat over the streets of Berlin. It is only when the footage reels backwards in time to a photograph of Adolf Hitler as a child sitting on his mother’s lap that Flyora is unable to shoot. This beautiful scene captures the irreversible devastation of the Nazi invasion of Russia, the horror of the violence it inspired, and the monstrous all-consuming hatred which such conflicts generate. That hesitation in Fyodor’s eyes, eyes which have seen such incomparable horrors, is the only light of hope that ioffered.

THE HURT LOCKER LUKE BATES Who’d have a thought a wall of cereal boxes could leave a macho, gung-ho soldier so befuddled? Kathryn Bigelow’s Oscar winning The Hurt Locker takes the audience deep into a war torn Iraq with Bravo Company’s Bomb Disposal Unit. Every decision made by adrenaline junkie Sgt. Will James (Jeremy Renner) has only two outcomes: life or death. Yet while James remains cool with seconds left on the clock, as soon as his tour is complete he is perplexed by the complexities of... grocery shopping. There are simply too many choices.

The supermarket scene expertly conveys the psychological difficulties soldiers face when transitioning back in to home life. The routine tasks of civilian living have become alien to the action James is now accustomed too. The camera makes the aisles feel endless and James is alone in the midst of all that we non soldiers take for granted.

The choices he makes now are so pedestrian and meaningless, picking the wrong cereal may leave him with a sour taste in his mouth but it is a mere speck in comparison to what him and his comrades faced. It doesn’t take long before James is lured back into the high of the battle.

SCHINDLER’S LIST CLARE MARTIN The phrase ‘harrowing scene of war’ usually conjures up pictures of horrifying wounds and women crying over their murdered children. However, I find that the final scene of Schindler’s List conveys the gut-wrenching and painful reality of war without spilling a single drop of blood.

The real life people whom Oskar Schindler saved during the Holocaust walk up to his grave paired with the actors who portrayed them. They each place a rock on his headstone while the film’s melancholy refrain fills the background. As the stones pile up on Schindler’s grave, one is reminded not only of the many lives he saved, but also the incredible number of Jews who were not so fortunate. While the scene does not take place during the war, it portrays how those traumatic memories remain with victims of conflict for the rest of their lives.

Reminders of those tormenting years haunt both soldiers and civilians long after peace treaties have been signed and bodies buried, whether through PTSD or tortured memories of loved ones lost. The final scene of Schindler’s List solemnly portrays this sad, undeniable truth with a clarity and gravity that is not easily forgotten.

PATHS OF GLORY

JAMES MCGOVERN It is a cold-hearted individual who does not shed a tear on viewing the final scene of Stanley Kubrick’s masterpiece, Paths of Glory’ Set during the First World War, the film as a whole focuses on an idealistic French Colonel, Dax (played by Kirk Douglas) and his defence of his men, three of whom are to be executed as an example following a display of cowardice at the front line. By the film’s ending our brave colonel has become completely disillusioned with the army leadership and the whole business of war in general.

The final scene has Dax watching on as inside a tavern his men are entertained by the singing voice of a young German woman. The maiden’s initial treatment by the

soldiers is semi-misogynistic, and is no doubt induced by the inter-European xenophobia caused by the Great War. But then the men desist in their hounding and listen to the woman’s song. Slowly they join in. Not being able to speak German they hum along to the tune and an emotional atmosphere of common humanity pervades the scene thereafter. The soldiers had begun the scene as animals but end it as thoroughly decent men whose initial barbarity was attributional rather than dispositional – to use the language of psychology – and in this lies the film’s greatest condemnation of war. Not the injustice nor the killing but the turning of good people into bad.

THE KILLING FIELDS LOUIE CARROLL This moment comes from the under-seen and under-appreciated The Killing Fields, from director Roland Joffé. The film charts the true story of two journalists, American Sydney Schanberg (Sam Waterston) and Cambodian Dith Pran (Haing S. Ngor) during the onset of the Cambodian civil war. Choosing to stay in the capital after the invasion of the Pol Pot led Khmer Rouge, both Schanberg and Pran are arrested. Although Schanberg is sent back to America, Pran is forced to endure the harsh new regime, taking part in Cambodia’s Year Zero policy of forced propagandistic re-education and working in labour camps. After numerous escape attempts, Pran is finally successful following an attack on his prison.

The memorable scene in question involves Pran reaching safety at the border of Thailand. Haing S. Ngor justly won an Academy award for his turn as Pran in his first acting role. At the end of a long journey Pran spots a red cross camp in the distance, signaling safety. Joffé lets the camera linger on Ngor’s face for a number of seconds. The actor, a Cambodian himself was a victim of the Kmher Rouge regime, which adds to the power and authenticity of his performance.

In this one shot, Ngor communicates a sense of grief from the terrible things he has seen, but most importantly relief from the realization that his struggle has come to an end. Pran’s performance elevates this moment to one of the most emotionally effecting in film history.

COLLATERAL DAMAGE LUKE O’REILLY LOOKS AT HOW THE WARS WE WAGE IMPACT THE CIVILIAN POPULATION ACROSS THREE DOCUMENTARY FILMS

When one thinks about war documentaries one tends to think about clips of battles interspersed with interviews with the soldiers who fought in them. The three films put forward here are ones that examine the lives of people living in a conflict and what those conflicts say about the human experience and how we think about war. They are selected with the hope of demonstrating that the medium of war documentary is about so much more than the physical violence of war,but on the tolls it takes on the moral decisions of the ordinary people who have had to live in them.

5 BROKEN CAMERAS Shot almost entirely by Emad Burnat, a Palestinian farmer living in Bil’in, a village in the West Bank, 5 Broken Cameras documents his peaceful resistance to the Israeli arrmy. It begins with the firstcamera he buys to document his son’s birth and over the next few years the documentary moves from camera to camera as each one is destroyed.

Burnat’s use of peaceful protest in a region rife with violence makes him a sympathetic narrator for the documentary, and is the cornerstoneof his message. This is a documentary about the little guy who never loses his cool in the face of systemic oppression. It is this pacifism that has allowed the film to

transcend a dialogue of hatred within Israel and the Palestinian territories to become one of the most successful documentaries there about the conflict. As well as showing Burnat’s peaceful protestations the film also documents the development of Burnat’s son from infant to young boy who is often with his father and can be seen handing I.D.F. soldiers flowers in one ofthe more poignant scenes in the film. The message is clear, it is not Burnat’s generation who will end the struggle there, but their children. Burnat’s battle is as much one for his son to follow in his peaceful footsteps as it is for his own freedom. It is within the context of this battle that the most powerful scene in the documentary is contained.

Burnat’s son, having grown up within the conflict in front of our very eyes asks his father why they don’t just kill the soldiers.

In this moment lies the dangerous frustration of a repressedcivil rights movement, and the crux of one of the best examples of documentary meets political activism. It is a question that can only be answered by Burnat’s hope for a better future expressed in his own actions, and one that hammers home just how important the understanding this documentary hopes to evoke is.

‘

CONTROL ROOM ’ You can not wage a war without rumours, without media, without propaganda’’ - Samir Khader, Senior Producer for Al Jazeera Control Room is a documentary following a group of Al Jazeera journalists as they react to the build up to the Iraq war as well as to the war itself. In a nutshell it is the account of the Iraq war from an arab experience, it is also a powerful exploration of propaganda and the role of the media in war. Denounced as a mouthpiece for terrorism at the time in the U.S., yet banned in several middle eastern states for criticising their governments, this is a coming of age drama for a truly unique news station. And Al Jazeera is not just any news station, but one that stands as a voice for the arab world and those marginalised by western imperialism everywhere, not as an outsider looking in, but as an insider speaking out.

“The Al Jazeera journalists in Control Room pride themselves on showing the human cost of war”

The international outlook of the documentary can be seen even in the music choice, whichis almost entirely western rock n’ roll.

The Al Jazeera journalists in Control Roompride themselves on showing the human cost of war. And it is in the ethics of showing this, in showing the gory images of dead children and soldiers, that the arguments filmed within the documentary revolve around. For this is not just a documentary about the journalists themselves, but one that shows the arguments they have with their critics in the western media about what they are doing. This gives the documentary a great dynamism as Al Jazeera is portrayed as a rebellious newcomer to the western interest dominated international media. This is summed up when one of the journalists saracastically remarks ‘Now there is a Genevaconvention’ following condemtion about showing captured american soldiers on the news.

Another standout scene is one where the journalists demonstrate howthe U.S. army manipulates their own media, using it as an apparatus of war. The U.S. claims to have captured a bridge on the river Tigris which simply does not exist in order to keep their movements secret. If ever there was a movie to shock western audiences out of their complacency in their perspective, this is it.

THE SORROW AND THE PITY The Sorrow and the Pity is a two part documentary by Marcel Orphuls that examines the collaboration between Vichy France and Nazi Germany. It contains a series of interviews with various German officers, resistance fighters, journalists and politicians both French and British as well as ordinary

french citizens. France’s history of collaboration during WW2 has been such a potent topic in the country that it was almost entirely ignored following the war, instead french cinema chose to focus on the stories of those who resisted.

The documentary is a thorough examination of why exactly collaboration occurred, and who and what is to blame for it. It is a powerful evocation of the fear, anti-semitism, desire for power and confusion of that time. Beginning with the startling events of the German break through of the MaginotLine and the chaos that ensued only to be brought into a twisted peace by the efforts of the Vichy government, The Sorrow and the Pity’s strength lies in its ability to give a sense of the internal politics of a once proud democracy struggling to hold face while remaining a puppet state of a supposedly enemy power.

Each part of the film focuses around a central figure with a very different perspective in the war. The first of these is basically narrated through interviews with Pierre Mendes France, a Jewish man who was essentially jailed on the grounds of desertion due to anti-semitism yet managed to escape

and join De Gaulle’s government in exile in London for the remainder of the war. He is an engaging interviewee and gives a strong condemnation of those who collaborated with the Nazis.

The second part is largely made up of interviews with a collaborator, nobleman and outspoken fascist Christian de la Maziere.

Maziere was one of seven thousand French men who donned the german uniform and fight on the eastern front. He is unapologetic about his views and that he is able to express them so openly goes to show how collaboration had been soquickly removed from French public discussion following the end of the war.

It is in its portrayal of the post war humiliation of the french woman who married nazi officers, used as a scape goat for the guilt of an entire nation that the documentary’s title ‘the sorrow and the pity’ comes into full effect. It is a damning verdict on the legacy of collaboration and rounds up a major entry into the canon of war documentary.

Luke O’Reilly

THE TROOPS EDITOR

JACK O’KENNEDY COVER DESIGN SEAN NOLAN EDITORIAL STAFF LOUIE CARROLL EOIN MOORE LUKE O’REILLY THOMAS EMMETT SEAN NOLAN CONTRIBUTORS CATHAL KAVANAGH RACHEL WAKEFIELD-DROHAN SIMON O’ CARROLL CLARE MARTIN LUKE BATES JOSEPH MURRAY AMELIA MCCONVILLE LACHLAN BAYNES JAMES MCGOVERN SPECIAL THANKS MATTHEW MULLIGAN CATHERINE HEALY EDMUND HEAPHY JENNIFER MCCAHILL TRINITY PUBLICATIONS PRINTED BY GREHAN PRINTERS Trinity Film Review (TFR) is a Trinity Publication.

It is funded by a grant from DU Publications Committee. TFR claims no special rights or privileges and any serious complaints should be adressed to: The Editor, Trinity Film Review, 6 Trinity College, Dublin 2.

Appeals may be directed to the Press Council of Ireland.

CONTENTS

NIGHT WILL FALL DIRECTED BY ANDRE SINGER RELEASE DATE OUT NOW Concentration Camps during the Allied invasion of Germany, a number of war cameramen were ordered to stop filming the battles and destruction of the war, and to begin documenting the horrors and sorrows that were left within the most twisted and terrible result of the Third Reich. The film that resulted from this, under the direction of Sidney Bernstein, was intended for use in Germany as propaganda, in order to ensure that the German people would never forget the atrocities committed by their elected leaders. However, with the outbreak of the Cold War the political climate no longer suited the film, so the reams of footage collected by those war documentarians and arranged by Bernstein were indefinitely shelved.

Night Will Fall can be seen as an attempt to contextualise and analyse some of the most shocking footage gathered by those documentarians. Under the direction of Andre Singer – best known for producing The Wild Blue Yonder and The Act of Killing – the film presents 12 minutes of this previously censored footage alongside interviews with people involved in its creation, including cameramen, soldiers, and victims. The film opens with a series of shots of WWII-era cameras, focusing on the black reflection of their singular, staring eye. The documentary as a whole is fixated on the image of that eye; an eye which in one way sees and in another way shapes whatever is placed in front of it.

The film moves back and forth, telling the story of the Bernstein film’s creation and subsequent suppression. Most evocative, perhaps, are the interviews with the still living individuals caught on those ancient cameras. Singer opts for minimal visual flashiness: the interviews are single, fixed camera affairs. This makes the tears in the eyes of those remembering the anguish they

“The sheer immensity of the suffering, debasement, and loss of life that occurred within those camps is hinted at, teased out, and then unleashed in all of its unimaginable magnitude” witnessed and experienced all the more affecting. The stoic reservation with which Singer directs also adds to the stunning impact of the original footage whenever it appears.

The images of the holocaust in Night Will Fall are truly nightmarish. In an age of desensitisation, in which graphic violence on screen is common to the point of cliché, it is notable that these seventy year old images still have the power to stun, shock, and revolt. One of the interviewed soldiers claimed that everyone who took part in liberating the camps was forced to disconnect themselves from what they were seeing and doing, to protect their own sanity. Based on the brief yet unforgettable snippets displayed in Night Will Fall, this is an utterly believable claim. The sheer immensity of the suffering, debasement, and loss of life that occurred within those camps is hinted at, teased out, and then unleashed in all of its unimaginable magnitude. The horror of the holocaust is a story which has been told for seven decades, yet the footage found in Night Will Fall retells that story in all of its original power, and is a dreadful reminder of why that story must never be forgotten.

Yet that is only half of Night Will Fall. The other half, contextualising the political war being fought all around the Bernstein film’s creation, serves as a disturbing reminder of why that footage was filmed in the first

place. In spite of the emotional and his torical importance of the filming done by those cameramen, their ultimate purpose was to create a propaganda film to be used as a weapon of psychological warfare. The tremendous force of the horrors on display throughout Night Will Fall gain a sinister undertone when one considers the manipulative intent behind their collection. The numerous cameras which appear in the hands of war cameramen throughout the film are a constant reminder of the menacing power of that single, black eye. One anecdote in particular, of Russian cameramen in Auschwitz re-staging scenes of Concentration Camp life with already liberated prisoners, niggles at this unsettling moral issue with the filming and usage of images of war. Night Will Fall is a compelling documentary, which isn’t afraid to question the value and motives of such documentaries. The viewer is forced to consider terrible images, to consider how they have been affected by them, and then to consider why.

EOIN MOORE

DIRECTED BY YANN DEMANGE WRITTEN BY GREGORY BURKE STARRING JACK O’CONNELL, SAM REID RELEASE DATE OUT NOW It’s British Paratrooper Garry Hook’s first day on the job in 70’s Belfast. Following a riot that goes very wrong Hook is separated from his unit. ‘71 follows his attempts to find his way back to his barracks through the hostile environment of Catholic occupied Belfast.

This is director Yann Demange’s first feature, having previously made his name in gritty television series’ such as Dead Set, Top Boy and the not so gritty Secret Diary of a Call Girl. The film uses a fairly standard action movie plot line as a means through which to explore the different factions involved in the troubles. Screenwriter Gregory Burke makes a brave choice in having a British soldier as the “hero”. Jack O’Connell, seen earlier this year in the excellent Starred Up has a difficult task in a physically demanding lead role. He’s given limited dialogue largely because he’s too busy running or hiding to stop for a chat.

‘71 The rest of the cast is filled out with a host of familiar faces from Irish film with the likes of David Wilmot, Richard Dormer and Love/Hate alumni Killian Scott, Charlie Murphy and Barry Keoghan, as members of the IRA and civilians caught in the middle of the fight. On the English side of the cast an unrecognizable and terrifying Sean Harris is the closest thing the film has to a villain.

Unknown child actor Corey Mckinley is perhaps the standout performer as a youthful loyalist.

particular sequence that is new and innovative. Another highlight is a chase sequence on foot that is surprisingly reminiscent of a similar set piece in Katheryn Bigalow’s Point Break, which is no bad thing. The cinematography has a grainy quality that evokes the news reports of the era. The period setting is also excellent with plaid trousers and mutton chops aplenty. The streets of Blackburn convincingly fill in for Belfast. All of these factors contribute to the films success in evoking the time period.

It is left to this supporting cast to do most of the talking and it’s in the interplay between these characters that the chaos and futility of the troubles are made clear. The only actor with less dialogue than O’Connell is Keoghan, a young member of the IRA who can viewed as the Irish equivalent to Garry Hook. A more conventional film would have told the story from his perspective. However, giving the lead to a traditionally “bad” British soldier demonstrates how “good” and “bad” are not always words that can be applied when it comes to conflict, particularly the troubles.

“Despite having previously never made a feature, Demange handles the camera in an impressively cinematic manner. The long take, which can sometimes come across as overtly showy is used to great effect here”

Despite having previously never made a feature, Demange handles the camera in an impressively cinematic manner. The long take, which can sometimes come across as overtly showy is used to great effect here in one

Where the film falls down is in its attempts to encapsulate and allegorize the entire conflict of the troubles not just in the plot but also in small exchanges of dialogue. This often comes across as patronizing and simplistic.

Demange and Burk would have been better served to let the actions of the characters do the talking rather than have them spell out the reasons behind the troubles.

The final confrontation also loses its way in the dying seconds and the resolution doesn’t really ring true with the rest of the film.

Despite these problems ’71 is a very well put together thriller with added weight due to the subject matter.

LOUIE CARROLL

Lone Gunman: Jack O’Connell as Garry Hook in ‘71

ANNABELLE

DIRECTED BY JOHN R. LEONETTI WRITTEN BY GARY DAUBERMAN STARRING ANNABELLE WALLIS, WARD HORTON RELEASE DATE OUT NOW

Halloween is looming once again and with it comes an onslaught of horror films aimed at capitalizing on the festive fear. One such film is Annabelle, a prequel to the 2013 box office sleeper-hit, The Conjuring. Though the film is technically a prequel, a spin-off may be a more appropriate term, as Annabelle has an independent story, with a new cast of characters. The film is therefore only a prequel for the purpose of marketing as it hopes to attract fans of The Conjuring and there is no question that it will. The real question is whether Annabelle can emulate the type of terror that it’s predecessor stirred up amongst audiences last year.

Annabelle follows the story of Mia and John Gordon, the perfect couple who are expecting their first child. All is well in their suburban life until, one night, a woman named Annabelle and her boyfriend break into their home and attack them as part of a Satanic cult ritual. Though the police rescue Mia and John, Annabelle possesses a doll when she dies, thus beginning a series of supernatural events that the couple cannot explain. Without spoiling anything, the couple experience a series of increasingly violent attacks that bring them face to face with an evil they never could have imagined.

Children’s dolls have become somewhat of a cliché horror trope (examples including Chucky from Child’s Play and Slappy from Goosebumps) as it plays on the classic fear of the uncanny. Unfortunately however, ‘Annabelle’ does little to reinvent the tradition.

In fact, ‘Annabelle’ is merely a combination of several other horror films to the point of downright plagiarism. One scene in particular, involving popcorn left on the stove, shamelessly rips-off Scream and throughout the film there is an endless list of similarities to Rosemary’s Baby. The film therefore relies on nostalgia as the source of its terror rather than injecting any originality into the

genre. Yet it is the very nature of horror to be unpredictable and unexpected. Every jump, fright and scare Annabelle throws at you is too familiar to have any real effect. Naturally, some moments will catch you off guard but there are no long-lasting disturbing images to keep you up at night (Unless you sleep in a room full of creepy dolls for some strange reason).

“Children’s dolls have become somewhat of a cliché horror trope (examples including Chucky from Child’s Play and Slappy from Goosebumps) as it plays on the classic fear of the uncanny.

Unfortunately however, Annabelle does little to reinvent the tradition”

Annabelle fundamentally lacks a certain irony that was the root of The Conjuring’s success. The over-the-top camp style of that film was a breath of fresh air last year as it contrasted dramatically to the found-footage hyperrealism trend seen in contemporary horror. Director James Wan’s possession flick didn’t take itself too seriously and was just as concerned about entertaining its audience as it was about scarring them for life.

Annabelle lacks this irony and ultimately falls flat as a result. Wan’s virtuouso directorial style is sorely lacking here and on top of this Annabelle becomes too complex for it’s own good ,with the introduction of a demon leaving it unclear as to whether the threat is ‘Annabelle’, the demon or the Devil himself.

Perhaps it is unfair to judge Annabelle based on comparisons to The Conjuring however.

In fact, both films would both be better off if they were independent of each other. Wan’s film, for example, devotes a lot of its time to the story of Annabelle despite the fact that the doll has nothing to do with the main storyline. It is now impossible to isolate the two films, whereas they could both have been better as independent franchises. No opinion on Annabelle is possible without a comparison to The Conjuring and this pseudo prequel doesn’t come close to recreating the effect its predecessor had and suffers as a result.

Is Annabelle worth going to see this Halloween? Considering it fails to live up to the high standard set by its cinematic ancestor the answer is probably no. If you’re looking for generic scares and a predictable outcome, then you may still enjoy Annabelle. If you’re looking for a new franchise with the potential to conjure up some original scares however, Ouija hits cinemas on October 24th.

JOSEPH MURRAY

GONE GIRL DIRECTED BY DAVID FINCHER WRITTEN BY GILLIAN FLYNN STARRING BEN AFFLECK, ROSAMUND PIKE RELEASE DATE OUT NOW One of the first images we see in David Fincher’s Gone Girl is that of Nick Dunne (Ben Affleck) alone in the empty street outside his house in the early hours of a cold morning.

Bored and bloated by marriage, he is lost in suburbia and will remain so throughout the film.

Based on Gillian Flynn’s 2012 novel of the same name and adapted for the screen by the author herself, Gone Girl tells the story of married couple Nick and Amy Dunne (Rosamund Pike), charting the scope of their relationship up until the day of Amy’s mysterious disappearance and supposed murder. Fincher provides a structure of dual perspectives by weaving together the past and present, seamlessly alternating between Nick’s sparse narration and the framing device of Amy’s diary to paint a jarring and effective portrait of a marriage that blooms in the past as quickly as it disintegrates in the present. This is a film where perspective is key, exploring how we project our past and ourselves, manipulating our own illusions. Of the dual narrators only one is reliable.

The question of who to believe is what drives the film forward.

As the immesnely flawed, possibly murderous though still inherently likeable Nick, Affleck is the lynchpin at the centre of a film with near flawless casting. Together, he and Pike (despite a shaky accent at times) both perfectly capture their characters at contrasting moments in their lives, marking the damage their marriage has done. Affleck is both charming and smug while Pike is endearingly sweet and elegantly cold. Their marriage, providing the crux of the narrative, feels lived in with the pain, resentment and disgust palpable through their portrayals. Of the supporting cast, Carrie Coon as Nick’s twin sister Margo is especially memorable, turning in a powerful and grounded performance as she confronts what her own brother may be capable of.

Based in and around suburban Missouri, the film is not as overtly stylistic as Fincher’s other work, a wise choice for the narrative. As shot

by Jeff Cronenweth, there are still moments of visual beauty nestled amidst the trappings and facades of small town America. This could be as simple as an early morning ‘sugar-storm’ outside a city bakery or the flash of the media’s cameras as seen in a dark and empty house far too large for a childless couple. Moments like these are merged brilliantly with Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross’ score which builds an unsettling atmosphere throughout and yet never becomes overbearing, allowing the quieter moments to be owned by the performances and the lighter moments to feel natural. One moment in particular, late in the third act, the only real moment of visceral violence throughout the film, encapsulates the perfect harmony of sound, editing and visuals on offer, climaxing in a shocking crescendo of blood.

“Gone Girl is an expertly crafted and intelligent mystery that exerts full control over the assumptions of the audience. Aided by a well-honed and balanced script, Fincher consistently builds upon the generic expectations before subverting them in grand fashion” Gone Girl is an expertly crafted and intelligent mystery that exerts full control over the assumptions of the audience. Aided by a wellhoned and balanced script (with thankfully more levity than might be expected), Fincher consistently builds upon the generic expectations before subverting them in grand fashion.

Giving away details is difficult without revealing spoilers but those expecting a neat happy ending, or even a complete resolution, will be sorely disappointed. This ties into the main flaw of the film in that it is never quite sure how or when it should end. There comes a point within the third act where everything stops and the pace slows when it seems like it should be ramping up. Though the film follows a logical progression of events, the ultimate conclusion is unsatisfying and strangely abrupt. It almost seems as if Flynn wrote herself into a corner, unable to create a satisfying ending that would be both logical and suitable to her characters. Instead, it just ends.

While this becomes a problem as the credits roll, the film in its entirety is never anything less than compelling.

LACHLAN BAYNES

DIRECTED BY NIALL HEERY WRITTEN BY BRENDAN HEERY STARRING JAMES NESBITT, MAISIE WILLIAMS RELEASE DATE OUT NOW Cinemas have been saturated in the last few years with indie dramedies that use clippy tunes and a vintage feel to appeal to hipster sensibilities and tug frantically at the heart strings. Frankly it’s gotten a bit tired, and most of them blend together into try-hard, insincere dribble. Gold could have been just another drop in the indie bucket, but its sense of heart and delightfully unpretentious cast set it apart from its homogenous brethren.

The film follows Ray (David Wilmot), a loveable screw-up who attempts to reconnect with his estranged daughter Abbie (Game of Thrones’ Maisie Williams) and, to a lesser extent, her mother Alice (Kerry Condon). Abbie, now a teenager, has always known about her absent father, but not about his suicide attempt when her mom shacked up with her former gym teacher Frank (James Nesbitt) shortly after Abbie’s birth. Despite the slightly depressing premise, Wimot brings a comically awkward charm to the otherwise doleful Ray. He flops through the film like a sad, watery-eyed muppet, aiming to please but predictably messing up along the way. It seems as times as though he’s attempting to undermine the man who took his place, referring to the

GOLD gym teacher “Frank the Wank”, but in reality it’s just part of Ray’s personality. He’s a kid who never grew up, which makes the scenes between him and Abby so captivating.

The chemistry between Williams and Wilmot form the core of the film, yet the pairing is grossly underused. Gold runs just under ninety minutes, so a few more scenes of father-daughter bonding are much needed, especially considering the hot and cold nature of the relationship. In one scene Abbie’s flipping Ray off, and in the next softens as she invites him to stay at their house a while longer. For those of you who know Williams as Arya Stark, it comes as no surprise that she pulls off teenage sassiness well. However, it’s during her vulnerable moments that she truly shines.

More scenes of Abbie and Ray’s growing fondness would have allowed Williams to show off her acting chops. Their dynamic is the most fascinating part of the film, so it’s a shame that their bond is so underdeveloped.

As for the rest of the cast, Nesbitt is fantastic as the hilarious asshole Frank. He struts about in his gold and crimson track suit, promoting his workout videos and the strenuous running program that he presses Abbie to use. Frank continually encourages her to “go for the gold”, and it’s saddening to see how desperately she tries to make him proud as an athlete. Abbie’s mother Alice is compassionate, but so weakwilled and fulfills every terrible stereotype about emotion-driven women in films. She’s a lame shadow of a character that deserves little acknowledgement. It’s disappointing that the

writers couldn’t be a tad more creative when it came to her characterization. Abbie herself proves more layered. She reminds me of a Now and Later candy (or whatever the Irish equivalent is) tough on the outside but a gooey sweetheart when she warms up.

Inevitably Abbie must choose between two golds – the glint of the first place medals on Frank’s custom-made trophy case or the warm yellow of Ray’s sofa. Ray finds the couch at the beginning of the film, sitting alone in a vacant lot that reflects the sad state of his life: he has nothing and no one save the small chance he can share that loveseat with Abbie. Considering the fact that the rest of the film follows an occasionally cliché-laden path, the gold she ends up picking probably won’t surprise you.

As a whole, Gold can be predictable and at times overly sentimental, but novelties like Frank’s Napoleon Dynamite-esque training videos inject a wacky humor that distinguishes it from other indie family dramedies. It’s also heartening to see such a well-produced and brightly comic Irish film. Gold follows in the footsteps of The Stag as another funny yet touching indie from around here (although the former never explicitly states its setting).

If the movie only extended past its short 88 minute run time and gave its characters a little more room to grow, it would be much more satisfying. Although it goes for the gold, it gets a well-meant silver.

CLARE MARTIN

SHOWRUNNERS: THE ART OF RUNNING A TV SHOW DIRECTED BY DES DOYLE STARRING J.J. ABRAMS, MATTHEW CARNAHAN, TERRENCE WINTER RELEASE DATE OCTOBER 17TH Being a showrunner is an exhausting and important job. A showrunner is defined as “The person or persons responsible for overseeing all areas of writing and production on a television series and ensuring that each episode is delivered on time and on budget.” Des Doyle’s Showrunners: The Art of Running a TV Show is a discourse on what exactly it means to be a showrunner.

Interviewing such showrunners as Hart Hanson (Bones), Matthew Carnahan (House of Lies), J.J. Abrams (Lost), and Terence Winter (Boardwalk Empire) to name but a few, this Kickstarter funded documentary focuses on the American television industry and attempts to shine a light on what exactly a showrunner does. With a staggering 84% of all new shows failing, the development of a new show can be tough for all involved in the process. The documentary charts the development of Matthew Carnahan’s House of Lies which provides a unique perspective on all the different stages of television production.

The showrunner often faces difficult decisions which could make or break the show’s success and they are typically in the unique position of being the creator or co-creator of the TV show as well. This means that they have a personal stake in the show’s success which is often the driving force behind their work. They are

called upon to do the disparate tasks of not only being the main creative force behind the show but also to do the bulk of the administrative tasks. Two things which require vastly different skillsets according to this documentary. The gargantuan and taxing effort that is require to be a showrunner is impressed upon the viewer as is the mixture of creativity and managerial skills that are necessary. One showrunner notes that the burnout rate for his job is almost 100%. The documentary portrays the personal triumphs and melancholies of working in television particularly well. Damon Lindelof (Lost) notes wryly that his memory of his son being born is less significant in his mind than what Lost episode he was working on at the time.

Terence Winter (Boardwalk Empire) claims that a showrunner gets more creative freedom or control when working for a cable television show like HBO. Others say this isn’t true.

There are not many cable television showrunners in the documentary so it is difficult to get a sense of the difference between working in network and cable television. Many note that the world of television is changing. The reign of the major television networks has come to an end with services like Netflix and Hulu as well as cable television coming into being. Joss Whedon states that there will be even further meshing of internet and television in the future.

It is apparent that television is still a male dominated industry as well as not being particularly ethnically diverse. Janet Tamaro (Rizzoli and Isles) speaks about being worried that her employees will think she’s a bitch and says that she knows that men do not have to worry about the same issues. Ali LeRoi (Everybody Hates Chris) is also notable in that he is the only African American showrunner in the

documentary. He believes that it is still only the beginning of television having people from diverse backgrounds as well as women in significant roles on a television set.

“The gargantuan and taxing effort that is require to be a showrunner is impressed upon the viewer as is the mixture of creativity and managerial skills that are necessary” Showrunners covers a lot of ground quickly.

The daily tasks of a showrunner, the stress, the ambition, and the toll it takes on your personal life are all documented admirably by Des Doyle. The structure is seamless, it follows Hart Hanson for a full day of work on his show Bones which is interspersed throughout the whole documentary. This provides the viewer with an understanding of the day to day tasks a showrunner faces as well as the minute joys they experience.

Television seems to be a precarious place where you are almost certain to fail but it does not stop these people from trying their hardest. Showrunners succeeds in capturing the dazzling highs and lows of working in television.

RACHEL WAKEFIELD-DROHAN

I’M NOT THERE

What’s your favourite film from 2007? No Country for Old Men?, There will be Blood?

Into the Wild? How about I’m Not There?

Unlikely.

Widely considered upon release to be something of a well executed oddity, too laden with absurdity and formless vicissitude to remain long in the cultural memory, Todd Haynes’ Bob Dylan biopic featured in a handful of year-ending “Top 10” lists and quickly vanished from the minds of all but its biggest admirers. By no means panned, and garnering an Oscar nod for the excellent Cate Blanchett, the film has sadly fallen by the wayside of the popular consciousness, to the point where this mini-masterpiece of a musical biography is now criminally under-appreciated and barely remembered.

The film features six separate actors, each of them playing a different incarnation of American legend Bob Dylan. From Marcus Carl Franklin, as the eleven year old African American boy, riding the rails with bums and hobos and calling himself Woody Guthrie, to Cate Blanchett herself, as the tortured, fidgety, neuroticised Jude Quinn, representing the scraggy haired, musically electrified Dylan of the mid-1960s, the perspectives offered on this multi-faceted persona are as diverse as they are captivatingly well performed.

Told in a jittery, many-directional, portmanteau style, interposing and shuffling vignettes from the stories of the six main characters (who are of course, all the one character) in an order at times seemingly only very tenuously held together by any kind of thematic unity, it isn’t too hard to see why I’m Not There may have posed a bewildering challenge to many viewers. Nonetheless, this strangeness and outward difficulty doesn’t detract from what I believe to be one of the finest additions to the musical biopic genre.

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Walk The Line this ain’t. The notion of the linear story is all but entirely dispensed with. There is little room for sentimentality or idolisation. Haynes, in his own idiosyncratic way, delivers a film as complex, confusing and contradictory as the individual it seeks to portray, in sequences by turns both affecting and utterly surreal. Aside from any thematic concerns, the way the story is told varies greatly. Ben Whishaw’s segment, monochrome and grainy, features nothing but the actor, calling himself “Arthur Rimbaud” (after the French Symbolist poet Dylan at one point admired), sitting before a committee and answering questions with snippets from Dylan’s own interviews. Richard Gere, living in the woods as an in-hiding Billy the Kid, wanders the roads in search of his dog, and bears witness to the forced evacuation of his town to make room for a highway, while Blanchett’s Quinn is captivating as a Highway 61 era Dylan, sleepwalking his way through London while being constantly probed by the press and the public about his sincerity, his motivations and his life.

Rounding out the chorus of Dylans, Christian Bale is the “troubadour of conscience” Jack Rollins, feeling confined and frustrated in his appointed role as The Voice Of A Generation, the late Heath Ledger is Robbie Clark, an actor portraying Rollins in a commercialised biopic of his life, while Franklin’s Guthrie is hunted and (literally) devoured as a result of the persona he tries to inhabit.

This is a spellbinding, immersive, engrossing film. In spite of all its oddities and unconventionality, it sweeps the viewer up in its swirling, intoxicated path. The editing is sublimely managed, the transitions, strange

as they are, always seeming as if they fit right into the narrative arc. None of the main actors turn in a bad performance, with the supporting cast including Charlotte Gainsbourg and Bruce Greenwood only adding to the film’s quality.

No film with such a musical theme can go without its soundtrack being examined, and the soundtrack to I’m Not There is absolutely stellar. Dozens of Dylan’s tracks appear either in original or as covers, conveying perfectly their scene’s mood and atmosphere, and reminding us why he’s such a bona-fide icon to begin with.

Ultimately, I’m Not There, more than anything else, is about the trade off a person makes between appearance and reality, person and persona. It’s a film of illusion, delusion, and the abject disillusionment when the persona outgrows the person themselves or the mask begins to slip. Haynes and his large cast, working with a hugely clever script, produce out of it all a piece of art which serves as a brilliant meditation on, among other things, politics, fame and the role of the artist in society. And in doing so, they manage to get nearly perfectly into the head of one of the most enigmatic personas (indeed, over a half dozen of them) of the 20th century.

It deserves a far greater level of acclaim.

CATHAL KAVANAGH

Even the notorious inconsistency of an IMDb rating seems misplaced with a film such as The Avengers - a decent action film surely, but not outstanding, and certainly not groundbreaking. The Avengers masquerades as a triumphant culmination of a series of films, in which The Hulk, Iron Man, Captain America, Thor, Hawkeye and Black Widow combine forces to protect the Earth as it is threatened by the standard evil villain, using the standard evil weapon of mass destruction, amid claims of all encompassing imminent doom. The gravity of the situation is of course intoned in grave voices by serious faces in dialogue peppered with fast-spoken technological jargon that again seems at times almost self-consciously delivered. The plot is unashamedly a standard template, serving as a crutch to prop up overblown action sequences, hardly a cardinal sin when it comes to blockbuster cinema but extremely obvious nonetheless. With the blatant nature of who this film is for and what it actually is, the issue is not with Avengers Assemble as a stand alone piece, it is with the hyperbolic praise heaped upon it by fans of the franchise.

Almost unbearably self-referential, The Avengers is constructed and deployed nearly solely for its ever devoted fanbase - not that they should not get what they want, but to critically laud a film basing this entirely on the opinions of those who really love Marvel is simply impractical.

There are overly lengthy indulgent scenes of the main superheroes fighting with one another, against one another, which are interspersed with more standard dialogue that is almost dutifully delivered from the underperforming script. Aside from Robert

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Downey Jr and Mark Ruffalo, the acting is underwhelming, tending to lapse into self-conscious melodrama too frequently for comfort. The Avengers is predictable to the point of dullness - are we meant to reel in shock at the idea that five intensely egotistical superheroes argue when thrust together into a hastily assembled team?

Gasp as they point out obvious facts about each other’s powers deficiencies? Laugh uproariously at the ‘witty rapport’ between them? Some of them aren’t from this age, you see, so misunderstandings are frequent.

Hilarious!

Disappointingly, for all the fanfare it arrived with, The Avengers does not amount to more than the sum of its parts. The apparently formidable combination of these superheroes, most reasonably fresh from the release of their own respective films, does not deliver - it never feels like more than just one average superhero film.

The Avengers does pretty much what was expected of it, yet to accuse it of being the one film guilty of the crime of being just for the fans would be unfair - The Avengers is merely another film which is an expression of deeper rooted problems with the blockbuster industry, raising the same jaded old questions of why films are made and for whom.

excellent - the Avengers does not do this. It is possible to appreciate a film as excellent while not loving it yourself - after all, most people do not claim that their favourite films list is a definitive list of the greatest films of all time. By all means like The Avengers, but hailing it as groundbreaking or outstanding outside the realm of its own fanbase really isn’t viable. Amending a critique of the Avengers as ‘the best film EVER’ to simply ‘one of my favourites’ would be much more practical - and there are enough who claim it holds a special place in their hearts (or on the IMDb top 250) for one not to feel alone. It’s not a crime to like The Avengers, and indeed another film is due for release next year though don’t be surprised if Joss Whedon has bowed out of his cash-cow by then and allowed Michael Bay direct two hours of large metal things crashing into each other.

AMELIA MCCONVILLE

A film that is praised as outstanding ought to transcend the realm of opinion and display traits that mark it out as objectively

AVENGERS ASSEMBLE

MY

WIT

Courted by directors as diverse as The Dardennes and Christopher Nolan, Marion Cotillard has something many actors aspire to but rarely achieve; a persona that sees her head up powerful indeof tinseltown as well as one of the faces of world cinema, so how come Thomas Emmet can’t get on board the Cotillard bandwagon? have never gone out of my way to avoid a particular actor. There are actors I don’t particularly understand the appeal of: Hugh Jackman, Laurence Olivier, Jessica Alba; but I can quite happily watch them on celluloid without resorting to tomato throwing or motion sickness. So when I misread the film times at The Lighthouse and ended up seeing the Dardennes brothers’ newest offering Two Days, One Night, I could not understand the slight turning in my stomach, the sweat on the cusp of my brow, an overarching feeling of muted dread. The film has been toted as a masterpiece, the pinnacle of a French resurgence in social realism, but throughout its viewing I was tense, irritable and prone to captious thoughts. The issue was, I came to realise, Marion Cotillard in the lead role. I’ve never found her hugely compelling at best, and at worst she is odd and off-putting. Here she was too beautiful to fit the blue collar environ, too elegant among her workaday colleagues and filled with too much mopey self-obsession to be sympathetic in comparison with her fellow workers diligent struggle against the bread line. Leaving the cinema I began to think of Cotillard’s body of work and examining whether this performance was a fluke or whether it fit a larger pattern. Was it possible she had the same effect in English that she did in French? Was it pure whim upon which I laid my biases?

Cotillard’s most celebrated film is of course, La Vie En Rose, for which she won both a Cesar and an Academy Award. The film is

a biopic of legendary singer Edith Piaf and chronicles her meteoric rise from street urchin to breakout star and then the inevitable decline to dipsomaniacal, arthritic diva. What struck me as odd was that Cotillard suited the older Piaf far more than the younger one. The oddness of her applied eyebrows, her face bedaubed in powdery makeup, the apparent strain on her voice were all far more resonant and interesting than her gosling days singing for nightclub owner Louis Leplee. Perhaps this is less a fault with Cotillard, who still looks too immaculate to face the threat of turning tricks, than a fault with the films non-linear structure. The narrative seems to have borrowed from Stephen Moffat’s biblical adherence to the “timey wimey”-ness of memory. Cotillard is deserving of her accolades for the film, but they seem mostly garnered for playing an older, more synthetic Piaf than the younger role, which relies more on Cotillard in her pure form.

Similarly Rust and Bone, the 2012 film that has Cotillard spending much of the running time without either of her lower legs, suffers from the same problem. The film itself is wonderful. It has a very ethereal aesthetic and the whales are majestic, but the focus of the audience when they see Cotillard is on the stumps below her waist, rather than on her actual performance. Tom Shone, film contributor to The Economist’s Intelligent Life and my film spirit animal (if I wasn’t such a cynic to such things) is constantly speaking out against the transformative

“She aspires wide range but has no to reduce lessness whe parts that r to be less g

TH MARION

res to play a e of roles, no ability her spotwhen playing require her s glamorous”

trend in cinema, where actors are praised for being as far from themselves as possible. He speaks of an inherent paradox where if they achieve a complete lack of recognition then they have failed at their own self-promotion, but if they are recognizable then they’ve failed to inhabit the role. Cotillard’s French oeuvre suffers from this, because the praise comes at watching her being a cripple rather than her earlier scenes, where she doesn’t hold the same powerful sway.

Cotillard seems to divide audiences as to her beauty. There are some particularly cruel caricatures of her that are almost indefinable when laid beside Gollum. I form the reverse opinion that her beauty, or perhaps lack of blemishes, restricts her acting. She aspires to play a wide range of roles, but has no ability to reduce her spotlessness when playing parts that require her to be less glamorous, such as Two Days One Night and the prefame Piaf. Her beauty is well used by Woody Allen in Midnight In Paris’ early scenes, but she is later overshadowed by Lea Seydoux’s more seductive role. Similar to Nine, when lined up with women of equal beauty, she begins to fade into the background.

However, this reliance on her spooky beauty very much suits her in both Inception and Dark Knight Rises, though the latter performance is much the inferior of the former. In DKR she is constantly described as “the lovely Miranda Tate”, deceiving the entire cast as well as the audience only for late game twists to reveal her true intents. There is very little evidence of how lovely she is throughout the movie. She is mainly background dressing, a potential love interest for Bruce Wayne before his caped crusader inevitably settles down with Catwoman. However it would be remiss to blame Cotillard for any faults in DKR, the campy fireplace sex scene, the overly complicated plan for world domination and the final thirty seconds, which defy the preceding trilogy’s tone, let alone my words. Still in a film with two female characters she definitely comes off the worst, mainly due to Anne Hathaway’s effortlessness and Cotillard’s voice being several octaves too high when she tries to speak the English language. She has similar problems in Public Enemies, but it is admittedly hard to capture anyone when you’re filming on a mobile phone, as Michael Mann seems to be.

Inception, out of all of Cotillard’s performances, is where she is at her strongest. No prosthetics, no fireside coitus, just Cotillard showing her raw talent. As DiCaprio’s deceased wife Mal, she is at her finest, appearing in the periphery of dreams, preventing catharsis and eventually halting the films plot. Perhaps this is to do with her being a genuine threat. When, early on in the film, she knifes Ellen Page’s Ariadne it startles the audience. The unpredictability of her actions is what makes her so intense in the role, a reliance on the primal rather than the cerebral. It also helps that her ensemble doesn’t have a bad performance among them. She also defies classification in the film because she is by no means the villain of Inception, but rather a victim of the mesmerizingly addictive world of dreaming. She is the debris of an off-screen shipwreck in DiCaprio’s mind. She addles the audience into questioning whether they have sympathy for her.

And this is where she belongs, in the slightly off-centre roles, her clear eyes tinged with menace, her too shrill voice lulling but desperate.

At one point Cotillard as Edith Piaf sings, “We’re the misfits, the down and out misfits”.

I think she has adopted this as an adage for her career. But where she should have been playing the off-key, unpredictable misfits like Mal, she has been reduced to the physical misfits such as Stephanie in Rust and Bone and the self-obsessively unhinged misfits like Piaf and Sandra (of Two Days, One Night). My personal opinion of her aside, it will be incredibly interesting to see her playing the formidable “partner of greatness” that is Lady Macbeth alongside Michael Fassbender’s murderous Scottish Lord in the upcoming Shakespeare adaptation. If she manages to channel the subtle menace of Mal into the performance it could be the defining point of her career or open new vistas where her unique beauty acts as a complement to her acting rather than a detriment.

NETFLIX GRAVEYARD PEGASUS VS CHIMERA

Welcome to the Netflix Graveyard, where we unearth the bloated corpses of straight-to-tv movies and dance them around for your perverse enjoyment. Unintentionally entertaining you this issue is the absurdly low-budget fantasy “epic” Pegasus vs. Chimera.

The film is set in the Seven Kingdoms, a grand fantasy kingdom loosely based on Greek and Roman mythology (with a bit of Medieval England thrown in for good measure). Said grandness is mostly left up to the imagination, though, as almost all of the film appears to have been shot in the same boring stretch of forest. Anyway, the expansive Seven Kingdoms, and the seven or so people who appear to live in them, are in a state of strife under the tyrannical rule of the evil Emperor Orthos. The film opens with said Emperor murdering both protagonists’ parents, handily setting up two impressively clichéd quests for revenge which manage to take up a whole 20 minutes of screentimebefore the Pegasus and Chimera show up. The most disappointing aspect of this film has to be the fact that the two titular creatures, emblazoned in all their tacky glory over the majority of the box art, function exclusively as the pets of the good guys and bad guys. This is, unfortunately, the story of Belleros and Princess Philony vs. Emperor Orthos, which the Pegasus and Chimera are dragged into to occasionally knock each other around in cheap CGI glory.

The special effects really do stand out as being utterly deplorable. The entirely animated Chimera would look bad enough if it wasn’t for the occasional pratfalls the human characters make while supposedly getting bashed around by it. The Pegasus is a whole other story. After a lengthy build up in which the mythical flying horse is supposedly pulled down from the very stars, the light fades to reveal... a horse. No wings, no visual effects. To quote Belleros: “Well, it’s just a horse.”

Explained away in a heartbeat with the lamest excuse ever - “Power is frequently disguised” – this stunning budgetcut means that the noble Pegasus only reveals its wings for occasional bursts of flight, in which it transforms into a blocky visual eyesore. The shoddiness of these effects is intensified by the poor visual quality all round. The camerawork is dull at best and impossible to follow at worst. Continuity errors and bloopers occur constantly, having been either overlooked or ignored by the editing team. Things get worse when it comes to the disorienting fight scenes in which the actors lamely bash their flimsy weapons around like a bunch of stumbling toddlers and the camera regularly speeds up, slows down, and vibrates like a paint mixer.

What’s perhaps most remarkable about this film is just how seriously it takes itself. In spite of its camp ridiculousness every line is delivered without a touch of irony or self-awareness. The

performances range from the delightfully dastardly Emperor Orthos to leading man Belleros, who is underacted to a psychopathic extent by Sebastian Roché, whom you’ve probably seen in something before. Roché gives an unforgettable portrayal of a man waiting around for a paycheck, delivering lines like “It is time to avenge my father” and “The price of defeat is too high” with all the intensity of an automated supermarket till voiceover. The film’s dialogue is peppered with blandly delivered exposition, which helpfully fills in the blanks which were too expensive to film or explains what just happened in the many impossible to follow fight scenes.

Ultimately, Pegasus vs. Chimera is everything you have the right to expect from a movie called Pegasus vs. Chimera. Veering between the surreally bad and the comically bad the film becomes strangely difficult to turn away from, like a comedian choking in front of a car crash. In the end it’s almost awesome in just how rigidly it sticks to its guns. Everyone involved must have known this film would turn out to be a complete bomb, yet stuck with it to the bitter end regardless, maintaining a consistent level of sub-par amateurishness throughout.

This is Pegasus vs. Chimera. It has a Pegasus and a Chimera.

EOIN MOORE

NETFLIX HIDDEN GEM BEING ELMO

As the newness and shininess of Netflix wears off, the average viewer has binge watched all the popular and critically acclaimed TV shows there is to offer on the streaming service. They’ve seen every single film they deem worthy of their attention. Heck, they’ve even watched some of the more substandard fare that’s available on Netflix.

And by some, I mean they’ve watched all four seasons of Keeping up with the Kardashians that are available on Netflix.....twice. A genre that often sadly gets passed over in favour of something more thrilling and less demanding is the documentary. As rewarding as a fiction film in its own way, the documentary ends to be the underdog of the film world and often gets shelved to watch at a ‘better time’. Netflix happens to have a plethora of excellent documentaries to choose from.

Constance Marks’ Being Elmo: A Puppeteer’s Journey is one such documentary and it tells the story of Kevin Clash, the man behind Elmo from Sesame Street, one of the most beloved puppets of all time. The documentary focuses on Clash’s life starting with his early childhood growing up in an African-American family in Baltimore.

Clash was a quiet child who knew from an early age what he wanted to do with his life. Inspired by ‘Sesame Street’ and other programmes on television, he put on puppet shows for kids in his neighbourhood.

The documentary is remarkable in the way it shows the ways in which the Clash brings joy to those around him through his puppetry.

As a teenager, Clash came into contact with Kermit Love, a kindly designer and builder of Muppets who catapults Clash into the professional world of television puppetry. Love helps him get a job as a puppeteer working on a local television show in Baltimore. Clash also first meets his childhood hero, Jim Henson, through Love. The young pupeteer goes on to work on Sesame Street as a Muppeteer with his hero Henson and invents the voice and character of Elmo after others have failed to make something of the red Muppet.

Elmo is all about love and it is this quality that makes him one of the most cherished children’s puppets of all time.

Clash’s own soft spoken personality is transmuted into something soft and huggable in the Muppet Elmo and one cannot help but marvel at the sheer artistry of his puppetry. What seems so effortless when seen on television or camera is clearly the product of love, creativity and hard work. Clash travels to France during the documentary to teach the French ‘Sesame Street’ how to effectively characterize their Muppets and the magic of the seemingly effortless and charming performances of the Muppets is broken down and displayed for the viewer. Kevin is a true master at work, totally at ease with his surround-

ings as he explains how to make a puppet seem more real to the cast.

Although a clear success story, there are dark shadows that hang over the entire documentary. Clash is an obvious workaholic who has a somewhat troubled relationship with his daughter and ex-wife because of this. His devotion to bringing happiness to others clearly does not extend to his own family members. He mentors a child who has an interest in puppetry in the magical Muppet workshop in the documentary and it seems difficult to reconcile someone who has an obvious passion for bringing joy and teaching others with someone who hardly spends time with his own family. The documentary was also made before Clash was involved in a sex scandal with a young man. The charges were dropped but it did lead to him leaving his job.

Being Elmo tells the success story of a man who loves puppetry to the detriment of other areas of his life. His work with puppets in his early years as well as on Sesame Street give insights into puppetry and how nuanced an art form it can be. The documentary fully succeeds in showing the magic and artistry of the Muppet world as well as telling the story of a man who wanted to be a part of it and whose dream came true.

RACHEL WAKEFIELD-DROHAN

GRADUATE FOCUS In GRADUATE FOCUS we chat to former film students of Trinity College who are now working in the industry.

This week we spoke to Sam Horgan (class of 2013) who is now employed as an Assistant Colourist at the legendary effects house Double Negative.

TFR: Do you remember what film you were watching when you decided it was a medium you’d like to work in one day?

SH: Although it’s not a visual effects heavy film, The Breakfast Club had a significant effect on me, in regard to the possibilities available to filmmakers restricted to singular locations. I remember it came on the telly late at night and I was instantly blown away by the depth of the story despite geographical restrictions.

TFR: What was your experience of studying film in college like?

SH: I had a great time studying film in college.

I was exposed to so many great films that I don’t think I ever would have seen otherwise, and was encouraged to think about film in an entirely new way. In addition to this, I really enjoyed the practical elements of the course, which provoked my interest in postproduction and subsequently VFX. The film department are a great bunch.

TFR: If you were to do the course over again would you do anything differently?

SH: I would have liked to have been more involved in the society side of things, maybe DU Filmmakers, but I never really got around to it and I saw some cool stuff coming out of there. Maybe I would have tried to manage

my time a bit better, there was a few all-nighters back then that got very grim!

TFR: What skills are worth learning in college to help students have a better chance of succeeding in getting employment afterwards?

SH: I think all the ‘standard’ skills are always important; attention to detail, working well within a team, working with deadlines. These are all very relevant in film as it’s such a group effort and everyone has their own important role, and as a deadline gets closer it can get really stressful! I suppose it’s one thing to describe your skills but another to show them, that’s why it’s great to have a project or portfolio or showreel that demonstrates what you can do.

TFR: Can you describe how you ended up working where you are now?

SH: I started as a runner in a postproduction house called Screen Scene. It was here where I was first introduced to Nuke, which is the industry standard visual effects compositing software. I was then lucky enough to be offered a 6 month internship in the VFX department, where I was trained in Nuke and then contributed to a few different projects, including Ripper Street and Frank. After the internship ended I managed to wrangle a five week stint as a runner in London VFX house Double Negative through

a very tenuous connection. Five weeks turned into ten weeks and so forth and I’ve been here for eight months now!

TFR: What’s your job title and what does the job entail?

SH: My current job title is Assistant Colourist.

I assist the VFX Colourists in making sure that the colour grading on the VFX shots we produce matches the non VFX shots and therefore doesn’t ‘pop’ in the edit.

TFR: What films have you worked on?

SH: I think my favourite film we’ve done so far is ‘Interstellar’, I’m very excited to see the final product. We’ve also done Exodus: Of Gods and Kings, In the Heart of the Sea, Hercules, and we’re currently working on the new Terminator and Avengers films.

TFR: You had to leave ireland to pursue a career in film, do you think that may be the case for the majority of people who wish to work in the industry?

SH: Due to the size difference between London and Dublin there is obviously a bit more opportunities in London, and not just in film. However the film industry in Ireland is definitely growing at a very fast rate, the huge success of a company like Brown Bag films is an indication of this. I suppose it depends on what it is you’d like to do, I hope more and more people will have the opportunities necessary to stay in Dublin and contribute to the Irish film industry.

Interview by JACK O’KENNEDY

APOCALYPSE NOW

COMMANDO

THE THIN RED LINE

BRANDO DOESN’T LEARN HIS LINES

YOU’RE IN THE ARNIE NOW

MALICK CUTS HALF THE CAST

JARHEAD MORE WANKING THAN YOU’D EXPECT

THE HURT LOCKER BIGELOW BLOWS THE ACADEMY AWAY

DOWNFALL HITLER WAS HUMAN AFTER ALL

INGLOURIOUS BASTERDS TARANTINO KILLS HITLER. REVIVIES CAREER

5

BATMAN LOSES PARENTS. FINDS THEM

WAR FILMS EDITION

VALYKYRIE

DAS BOOT FOUR HOURS OF CABIN FUHRER

EMPIRE OF THE SUN

PLATOON CHARLIE SHEEN LOSES HIS INNOCENCE

SCIENTOLOGY VS THE THIRD REICH

BLACK HAWK DOWN MOGADISHU HELICOPTER TOURS CANCELLED INDEFINITELY