Arts: Film

Review: Annette

DEVESH SOOD | CONTENT WRITER

Annette is frustrating. From Leos Carax, a director whose career has seen overwhelming critical acclaim, Annette tells the story of Henry (Adam Driver), a stand-up comedian, and Anne (Marion Cotillard), an opera singer, who have a child named Annette, who is a puppet. Presented as a musical with songs from Sparks, whose story was recently told in the Edgar Wright documentary, ‘The Sparks Brothers’, with all singing reportedly being completed live. Having not seen any trailers, I didn't quite know what I was in for. Consequently, when walking out of this film, I was in agony. While there are so many beautiful, creative ideas, wonderful songs, stunning costumes, incredible camera work, and terrific performances, it is stitched together in a story that does out-stay it’s welcome.

As expected, Driver and Cotillard are terrific; the first scene with them is electric, with a deafening silence telling everything about the relationship. The songs are shockingly catchy, with the opening song ‘So May We Start’ and ‘We Love Each Other So Much’ being amongst my favourites of the year. The cinematography is spectacular and helped elevate certain ideas and concepts within the story. In his first scene, Driver is portrayed as a dark, shadowy figure, with his cigarette providing the only light. This is followed by one of my favourite moments with him putting out a cigarette before slamming a banana peel on the top, showing the unhealthy, broken nature of this man. I’d also credit this film for having the first successful use of non-glasses 3D, in a scene where Driver is standing before an audience, and smoke engulfs his presence. Finally, the puppetry must also be applauded. Representing the struggles of growing up in the public consciousness, a scene with Annette singing while levitating is mesmerising, yet tragic.

Yet, with all this praise, the final product never fully comes together. While many of the ideas and concepts are terrific, the story ultimately deals with masculine greed and power in a typical fashion. There are also injections of the modern world that felt unnecessary; from paparazzi photos for a terribly fake news channel, to a bizarre ‘Me Too’ song, which ultimately turns out to be a dream, and hence, has no real place in the story. Furthermore, the movie, which starts by asking for ‘your complete attention’ really outstays it’s welcome; with a running time of about 140 minutes, it feels like it could easily be cut down.

When the movie premiered at Cannes, reactions were mixed; I had hoped that it would be a matter of taste. I watched Annette in a theatre with only 3 people who were dead silent throughout, meaning I was able to come to a judgement with no distractions. Thus, while there is so much good in this film, the problems are within the fundamental storytelling elements. Yet, I am glad that I saw it, the film does deserve a lot of credit and should be seen by everyone, if only once.

Birds of Paradise and the New Face of Teen Film

MATILDE GUNCAVDI GUIMARAES | CONTENT WRITER

Gaining large notoriety in the early 80s, the teen genre has been wildly popular since, ranging from classics like The Breakfast Club to Netflix’s recent trilogy addition To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before. It’s fair to say that most of said films have maintained a very basic and similar format and formula in order to appeal to a mainstream audience. However, in recent years there has been a slight shift in filmmaking style as well as subject matter, mostly aided by the ever-growing popularity of production company, A24. This ‘new wave’ of teen cantered media is exciting, fresh, and unique. It takes inspiration from experimental, independent, and avantgarde cinema, often emphasising the importance of aesthetics. Take Euphoria for example, the show gained immense popularity for its use of highly stylised elements from lighting to costume, as well as its exploration of complex subject matters.

Amazon Prime’s latest release is yet another example of this new generation of teen films. Based on A.K. Small’s Y.A. novel Bright Burning Stars, Birds of Paradise is a drama following two friends as they compete for a place at the Paris Opera Ballet. At surface, it is a story we’ve seen countless times (prompting various comparisons to Black Swan); however, the film is filled with countless twists that will keep you on the edge of your seat all throughout. Additionally, it has various surrealist-like sequences featuring some incredible choreography and a lot of glitter. If that’s not enough to convince you to give Birds of Paradise a go, the narrative aspects of this film are equally as interesting and original. It is a highly ambiguous film, both morally and in regard to the ‘truth’. The viewer is constantly repositioned in regard to character point of view and plays on the viewer’s expectations of the sub-genre. We assume from the start that newcomer Kate (Diana Silvers) will struggle to fit in, whilst Marine (Kristine Froseth) is set up as a mean girl haunted by her past. In turn, this is completely subverted, Kate turns out to be the most ruthless of any of the students going to extreme extents to win whilst audiences feel sorry for Marine.

I truly fell in love with this film. It doesn’t try to ‘dumb-down’ the art of cinema in order to appeal to the mainstream and because of that some incredible cinematography is produced. If this is the direction that Amazon Prime and Amazon Studios is going, I am very excited what’s in store for them.

A Brief History of Horror Movies

ANANYA KRISHNA | CONTENT WRITER

Halloween is meant to be a scary holiday, and we are here to talk about film so I’m sure you can see the point I am trying to make here. That’s right – it’s time to talk about horror movies.

For those of you who have sworn off horror, don’t worry, I understand you! When I was 17, I read only the first 3 pages of Cujo, and couldn’t sleep for a week. Horror today isn’t what it was when it first started off though – like a lot of film themes, it has been reshaped to fit the context of our modern society. Horror started off as a cautionary tale tactic to scare people into acting and behaving a certain way to conform to how society at the time thought appropriate. That was until movies came around.

The earliest regarded horror film is Mellies’s The Devil’s Castle (1896) which included all the cheesy Halloween stereotypes you could ever dream. It embodies the naïve understanding we have of the beginnings of a concept. Following on from The Devil’s Castle’s success came more supernatural and horror-based films from Frankenstein in 1910, to classics such as The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari in 1920. Whilst moving away from the more amusing and comical origins of Mellie’s Devil Castle, these movies were still not as scaring and psychologically trying as the modern horrors which fascinate us today. Furthermore, Mellies’ original was never intended to be what we regard as horror today. They are taking steps toward this style though. For example, Frankenstein explores the horrors of both the monster but also Dr Frankenstein’s ambition.

Source: Wikimedia

The arrival of the atomic age in the 1940s gave film makers the perfect opportunity to play into the fears of the new weapon of mass destruction. Godzilla (1953) is a perfect example of what people feared the most, genetical mutilation caused by radiation. Alfred Hitchcock is very much believed to be the father of modern horror movies, with iconic films such as The 39 Steps (1939) all the way to Psycho (1960). With Hitchcock’s films, we see this continuous growth of horrors focused upon the ordinary being horrifying, rather than supernatural forces that play at horror.

The latter half of the 20th century saw the making of the hellish films we know and love today. Subgenres of horror were starting to emerge like zombie apocalypse movies, slasher films, and found footage (there are more out there besides the Blair Witch Project). The traditional horror of chocolate syrup for blood and monsters traipsing about have now evolved to deeper analyses of society. As we can see, it has changed to suit the new horrors of each generation and in a way makes a more profound comment on the prejudices and inequalities that exist in our society than any other medium of thought. We are forced to sit in a room and face, albeit exaggerated version of, the true ill-spirits haunting our society.

Source: IMDb

Review: No Time To Die

LIAM ELVISH | LITERARY REVIEWS EDITOR

After nearly two years of delay, the 25th James Bond film at last reaches cinema screens. Cary Fukunaga’s direction surpasses expectations, taking the series to bold new heights whilst neatly tying up the various loose ends from previous entries.

Daniel Craig delivers a performance that confirms his reputation, for many, as the ultimate Bond, fifteen years on from his debut in Casino Royale (2006). Craig combines a raw toughness and complex depth, whilst at the same time evoking subtle nuanced hints of not taking the whole thing too seriously, a mainstay of the Bond canon.

Picking up where Spectre (2015) left off, No Time To Die sees Bond residing in Italy with Madeline Swann (Lea Seydoux), the revelations of whose past become the main driving force of the narrative. Forced to separate, the couple are being perpetually tracked under the watchful eye of the ‘Spectre’ organisation. Later, whilst in ‘retirement’ in Jamaica, Bond receives a visit from his old CIA associate Felix Leiter (Jeffrey Wright) who prompts him to investigate a plot involving the kidnapping of a scientist. Primary antagonist, Lucifer Safin (Rami Malek), skilfully manages to blend unnerving, uncompromising evil with a sympathetic motivation, revealing a personal background not dissimilar to Bond himself. Embellishing the film there comes a strong supporting cast. Lashana Lynch plays Nomi, an MI6 agent who is a welcome addition to the team of old regulars M, Q, Moneypenny, and Tanner. Christoph Waltz reprises his role as arch-nemesis Ernst Blofeld (the first actor to do so in the franchise’s history) and it seems somewhat fitting to give him the Hannibal Lector-style treatment as Bond interrogates him from his prison cell at Belmarsh.

Phoebe Waller-Bridge stamps her indelible mark on the script, and there are moments of camp black comedy, so typically emanating from her pen and refreshingly joyous to watch. It makes up for the lacklustre effort of screenwriters Neil Purvis and Robert Wade who, despite their admirable knack for plot and suspense, have always fallen short on the ‘dialogue’ front in the Bond movies since their debut in 1999 (and probably need to call it a day and bow out at this point).

Squid Game: Why the World Needed Post-Apocalyptic Respite TILLEY BENNETT | FILM EDITOR

There’s no doubt that by now you will have heard of South Korea’s sinister Netflix free from the anxieties that arise with money trouble. series Squid Game, which is currently number one globally on the streaming platforms charts. Much of the series is agonising, viewers witness massacre in the first episode, establishing that although this series centres around children’s games it is not for the faint hearted. But what is it about the series that has captivated audiences globally? Director, Hwang Dong-Hyuk, having struggled for years to convince producers of the show’s credibility, has orchestrated a series with a concept which gives audiences familiarity in a setting that feels so unnatural and sinister. Essentially, those with an abundance of wealth welcome those who struggle to maintain money, or in most cases are in debt, to play children’s games for a life changing fortune. Things are not as they seem however, with a consequence of death for all those who lose the games. The concept of the show plays to societies morbid curiosity, allowing viewers to question how far they would be pushed in order to maintain a life Having topped the frivolous yet enjoyable Netflix hit Bridgerton in their viewing figures, Squid Game, although starkly different in plot and atmosphere, actually shares some of Bridgerton’s allure. Although Bridgerton, from my perspective, allows for viewers to take light relief in a fairy-tale feeling world, I believe there was a conscious effort to provide an alternate perspective on history, gender, and the effect that money can have on the way humans interact and treat one another. Money and the greed of mankind in particular being a focal point of plot in Squid Game. In a similar vein, with the new perspective that the pandemic world has provided, viewers are able to seek refuge in a more gruesome and horrific world then the one in which we are inhabiting. Additionally, both shows encourage viewers to become invested in their characters. I believe it is the backstory behind most of the characters and the longing to know how they’ve ended up in their predicament that made the show such an enticing watch. The film is possibly the most significant Bond film ever as it self-consciously acknowledges the difficulty in maintaining the character’s existence as we enter the 2020s, with all its ‘woke’ temperaments. One of the most intriguing lines comes towards the end, with Q explaining to Bond that the outmoded technology on board Safin’s base dates from the 1950s and may take a while to get restarted; perhaps an indication that, if the franchise does indeed have a future, it may lie in going back to the original literary heritage and setting the next era in the 1950s.

For the Craig Bond has no future. This is very much the finale; cases resolved; old friends depart, and old enemies terminated; the mighty shall fall. Numerous references to 1969’s On Her Majesty’s Secret Service lead the audience in to thinking the narrative will go a certain way, only to surprise and shock in new directions. The ending does something never once attempted in any past Bond film, and it is all the more powerful for this unprecedented move.

Regardless of its place within the chronology, No Time To Die stands as a testament to all that is brilliant about our beloved Bond. Here is a film that is exciting, tender, emotional, and leaves the viewer overwhelmed; a stunning denouement to the Craig era and a worthy encapsulation of the sixty-year franchise as a whole.

As a viewer, you become invested in the misfit group of players, realising that the majority of them are fundamentally good people who have been dealt a difficult hand.

Squid Game has come at a time when society needs solace from a world that already feels dystopian. The dark reality that the show encompasses provides respite from the reality of COVID-19 and the pandemic that society has had to live through. Unlike the streaming service’s other hit TV shows, Squid Game provides a unique plot with dynamic characters. It is definitely worth the watch if you can bear the 9 heavy, yet captivating episodes.