Film
Films of the Year Les Misérables - CH
Les Misérables (Ladj Ly, 2019) is set in the Parisian commune of Montfermeil, and follows a team of three police officers in the Anti-Crime Brigade. Not to be confused with the musical, but not completely disconnected from its tale of inequality and injustice, the film is a searing critique of police conduct and the culture of silence that goes with the badge that the world has been made so aware of recently. Ly’s feature début combines the intense heat of Spike Lee’s Do the Right Thing (1989) and the multicultural specificity of Paris from La Haine (Mathieu Kassovitz, 1995), as well as horrifically real police misconduct from both. It’s like watching a feature episode of The Shield (Shawn Ryan 2002-2008) that’s set in present day Paris. Every time an officer shows an inkling of guilt and humanity, and you’re pleading with them to finally make the right choice, the culture of silence makes them bow their heads. Effectively, this is a narrative that is familiar to us even if we are privileged enough for it not to be about us, or to have happened to people we care about. Yet, the elegance of its direction, cinematography, writing and performances make it undeniably memorable. It doesn’t wrap things up into a neat little bow of narrative closure at the end, but it’s shown you all it needs to for you to know what happens next. I left the cinema with a fire lit inside me, and that makes it my film of the year.
WORDS BY CONNOR HOWLETT
Saint Maud - CH In Saint Maud (Rose Glass, 2019), my favourite horror film released in Ireland this year, pious nurse Maud (Morfydd
Clark) is sent to look after a dying patient, Amanda (Jennifer Ehle), a former actress, when what begins as care soon becomes obsession. It’s not the ‘cute’ obsession that certain weirdos fetishize from Love Actually (Richard Curtis, 2003) at this time of year: Maud’s desire to save Amanda’s soul is unsettling to the core. What unsettles most is not so much the plot, but Maud’s character nuances as they develop in the script, as well as the hauntingly intimate cinematography that captures every subtle expression of Clark’s mesmeric performance. Neat, expressive set pieces add to the chills, as you begin to question the integrity of what you are seeing and whose perspective it is from right up until the very last frame. And what a spectacular final frame it is. Did God intervene?
WORDS BY SAVVY HANNA
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Never Rarely Sometimes Always - SH Never Rarely Sometimes Always (Eliza Hitmann, 2020) is a beautifully raw film
that follows seventeen-year-old Autumn (Sidney Flanigan) as she attempts to terminate an unwanted pregnancy. Her local sex health clinic in rural Pennsylvania challenges her hesitation to keep the pregnancy by showing her an anti-abortion video, and state law would require Autumn to get permission from her conservative parents for the procedure. She confides in her best friend and cousin, Skylar (Talia Ryder), who gathers the funds necessary for the two girls to travel to New York City by themselves so that Autumn can get the abortion without parental consent. The film manages to completely avoid the melodrama often found in teen narratives, instead providing an authentic portrayal of female adolescence. The scene that provides the film’s title is particularly gut-wrenching, as the camera holds on a close-up of Autumn while she answers personal questions before the procedure, and we get a brief but intimate glimpse into her past. The character-driven plot and terrific acting from the two young leads placed Never Rarely Sometimes Always as my favourite film at the Berlinale Film Festival, where it deservedly won the Silver Bear Grand Jury Prize. Never Rarely Sometimes Always is available to stream on Sky/Now TV.
