L’espoir fleurit au ciel de Paris

An Education
Director: Lone Scherfig
Year: 2009
Country: UK
Running time: 95 mins.

What is an education? Is it merely the devouring of countless academic books and hours spent in characterless classrooms, lectured at concerning subjects that seem irrelevant to your existence- being forced to free your mind in a decidedly conformist way? Or is it, in fact, actively partaking in the many wonders of the world; experiencing first hand what at school you can only read about- actually living in the moment, free and open to everything without abiding anyone’s rules and regulations? An Education gave the impression that it may just be both- but that ultimately, it is our choice regarding the sequence in which we experience these two integral life components that might just be the real lesson.

The film centres on Jenny, a high school overachiever in 1960’s London, who lives and breathes the whimsy of a romanticised aspiration; longing for the wonder of Paris, or even anywhere other than the stale existence of her suburban surroundings. She initially believes that pursuing her long-held goal of Oxford university is what will enable this dream to come to fruition; yet as soon as fellow music aficionado and suave older gentleman David, blows across her path, her goals are suddenly at the mercy of a strong and exciting new wind.

Scripted by the reputably witty novelist Nick Hornby, who’s dialogue- a tight and jocular zeitgeist of British sixties repartee- seems to relevantly hark back to the timeless romance classics of an era gone by; and the cadence of which gives the scenes a life and energy that sets the film apart from others of its kind. Based on the brief memoir of Lynn Barber, Hornby takes an archetypal storyline and makes it appear refreshingly novel, while riddling it with abundant references to appropriate art, music and literature, including a few heavy-handed acknowledgments to the classic coming of age novel Jane Eyre.

Danish Director Lone Scherfig, does a clean, competent job yet doesn’t offer anything unique as a signature; while it is apparent that she was finely tuned in to both the material and her star, by her ability to conjure moments of magic from both. Her film frequently and lavishly skills us in the auditory and ocular delights of the time; specifically those afforded to the upper classes, such as art, fine dining, classical music, etc.; with the soundtrack of the film featuring whimsical Parisian harmonies of Juliette Greco, the smooth 60’s jazz of various artists and even snippets of timeless classical pieces.

The performances here are altogether proficient. Notably, Rosamund Pike, who is surprisingly hilarious as the vacant, vapid Helen; and even the terribly miscast American thespian Peter Sarsgaard- who is typically more akin to John Malkovich than Cary Grant- does a reasonable job as Henry, the charming British rogue. Though An Education naturally belongs to the captivating charisma of relative neophyte Carey Mulligan, who carries the film with ease and sophistication far beyond both her experience level and age. She is the real throbbing heart of the film; dually exhibiting intelligence and sagacity in abundance while still retaining the capability of falling back into the naivety of youth- she is able to transform little inconsequential moments into something quite prodigious.

The film as a whole acts like a smooth, beguiling jazz tune, floating over the viewer, caressing delicately with words and nuances, painting rich pictures with its melody, capturing your attention completely, and yet never quite persuading you that this is what you want to be listening to. The enchanting delicacy of its harmony unravels towards the end, losing its way within the complexity of its own ambition; as the film’s fundamental message is just not presented convincingly enough.

An Education is a well-worn coming of age tale set within an intransigent and arduous world (especially for free-spirited females); and is ignited by a simple yet powerful performance from its young star. The film may be somewhat undone by a cliché and feeble climax, and an arbitrary and unnecessary voice-over closing- yet it ultimately offers us a course in how much things have changed over the years, how some things never seem to change, and that the lessons we learn along the way are what matters most in the end.

Please, Please, Please Let Me Get What I Want

(500) Days of Summer
Director: Marc Webb
Year: 2009
Country: USA
Running time: 95 mins

In this current epoch, a time in which the romantic comedy landscape is so shamelessly saturated with crass, superficial fodder- to the point where traversing its coarse terrain is an occupation increasingly fraught with peril- it is decidedly refreshing when a film such as (500) Days of Summer, sprouts up organically, like an iridescent flower from the surrounding manure, and freshly plucked, permeates the atmosphere with a clean fragrance of originality.

This first time feature film for prolific music video auteur Marc Webb, and untried scriptwriters Scott Neustadter and Michael H. Weber, follows the romantic trajectory of Tom Hansen, a somewhat foolishly idealistic Angeleno “hipster”, stagnating in a shallow and unfulfilling job. This recusant’s foundations are shaken by the welcome interpolation of the enigmatic and bewitching Summer Finn, simultaneously infiltrating both his workplace and heart. Summer holds a cynical view of love, broken by her parents divorce at an early age, she too finds solace in the bittersweet melancholy of The Smiths- a fact that cements Tom’s attraction to her. Extremely capricious in nature, Summer’s amiability blows in and out on a callous wind while Tom is left addled and defenseless yet haplessly infatuated to the point of masochism; and even in her wake, he is unable to move past the memory of their time together, vowing to win her back, and setting in motion his recollection of various moments they shared.

Their ruptured romance is told, initially, in reverse, commencing post break-up, and chaotically traversing the intermediate moments, sewn together like a patchwork quilt. A nostalgia driven journey through his diary-like memory bank, the constantly flipping narrative evokes feelings within the viewer similar to the confusion felt on the part of Tom in regards to the breakdown of his and Summer’s romance. A successful tool to a degree, though at points the disarray works to its detriment, with certain shifts that are overly confounding, diffusing the emotional impact of a few key scenes. The soundtrack of the film, a finely cultivated mix of alternative yet prevailingly accessible artists (led by The Smiths & Regina Spektor), helps assimilate the audience to the fluctuating moods of our protagonist, framing many a moment with an impeccably complemented musical accompaniment and allowing certain scenes a striking emotional resonance.

The dialogue, for the most part, flows natural and earnest, sparked by an undercurrent of emotional honesty. However, the rhetoric emitted from Tom’s admittedly amusing, yet excessively precocious little sister walks a fine line between endearing and annoyingly counterfeit. The utilisation of a third person omniscient narrator, acting as a whimsical raconteur and serving up insightful snippets of Tom’s psyche, was a daring and welcome device employed within the film- though at points, after extended respites; a rather jarring effect is elicited by its return.

The films finest gifts, however, are Webb’s, particularly his undiluted artistry for all things visually eccentric and the sheer audacity with which he implements this skill. This includes an inspired black and white tribute montage to French New Wave films, Fellini and Ingmar Bergman, a split-screen scene showcasing “reality” vs “expectation”, a flawlessly executed creative transition, and perhaps most notably, a surprising and delightful musical interlude, which is used as a parodical embodiment of Tom’s utter ecstasy and joyful abandon after a successful night with Summer. This sequence transitions seamlessly into a later memory, contrasting perfectly between the glory of love and the utter despair of heartbreak.

Archetypal Indie darlings, Joseph Gordon-Levitt (Tom) and Zooey Deschanel (Summer), are perfectly paired and equally charming protagonists, exhibiting an easy chemistry, and bestowing their characters layers additional to what is written for them. For there is an innate fragility to both Tom and Summer, one which is masked by a humoured indifference. This marks a creditably recognizable characteristic intrinsic in many young people today, and is a discernment that speaks to the distinctive qualities possessed by the two soulful leads, who often bring such a sense of introspective depth to their roles.

Though not without visible cracks in its mosaic façade, (500) Days is essentially a resplendent and bittersweet serenade to love, heartbreak and everything in between. Moments spliced together into an engaging pastiche of warm humour, sincerity and ingenuity; and awakening the long slumbering buds of romance in the romantic comedy genre, the film carries a tangible sense of the love and care that went into its production- an agreeable sentiment which lingers with the viewer for (many) days after.

Putting Out Fire With Gasoline

Inglourious Basterds
Director: Quentin Tarantino
Year: 2009
Country: USA/Germany
Running time: 153 mins

Literally growing up inside the shrouded fantasy world of a movie theatre, the grandchild of cinema managers and daughter of cinema staff, my penchant for film was instilled from a very early age. This ardor subsequently mutated into my current position as a student and lifetime lover of film, which has introduced an even wider variety of films and filmmakers into my cerebral anthology, a now vast collection that naturally includes the work of perhaps the most infamous auteur of my generation, Quentin Tarantino, who with his 6th written and directed feature has crafted a true film connoisseurs delight.

Erroneously portrayed by its trailer as simply an excessively violent and relatively mindless World War Two parody chronicling the fictional exploits of American Lieutenant Aldo Raine and his rag tag bunch of soldiers (whom the title references), Inglourious Basterds had initially provoked feelings of apprehension within me. However, despite the clear presence of these elements, it is immediately evident through the first perfectly played scene that the film is so much more than that. For at its heart, Basterds is a tragic tale of revenge portrayed through the character of Shosanna Dreyfus, a young French Jew who is a witness and only survivor of the massacre of her family by German soldiers. This slaughter marks the first scene of the film and is overseen by “The Jew Hunter”, Colonel Hans Landa of the SS, who is a wickedly shrewd jester and the film’s other lynchpin character.

Divided into 5 titled chapters, QT’s distinctive style is scattered throughout the film, with a number of his trademark devices exercised, gloriously defying regular filmmaking conventions, including a twice utilised narrator whose voice will be instantly recognizable to Tarantino fans. The dialogue employed within the movie is as brisk and adroit as ever, with scenes that serve to embellish its cadence. Playing with tension is another technique that Tarantino has relished in here, whereby a number of scenes are perpetuated through his ability to elongate the palpable anxiety running just beneath the surface of the character interactions. Customarily, everything in the picture is purposeful and highly detailed right down to the characters names, which are often in homage to Tarantino’s silver screen heroes.

As a proven expert at making use of great music for the creation of classic and enduring scenes, QT was again true to form with the inspired infusion of many action complementing pieces including most notably, David Bowie’s “Cat people (Putting out the fire)”, applied during a beautifully shot and skillfully crafted montage, which features our heroine Shosanna preparing for her final act and serves as the introduction to the final chapter of the film. Imbued with moral ambiguity in its unsettling triumph, this decisive act and culmination of Tarantino’s reimagining of history is a powerful sight to behold, and one which leaves a lasting impression on the viewer while metaphorically reading as a love letter to the power of cinema.

Unsurprisingly, in a cast fronted by Brad Pitt (as Lt. Aldo Raine), it is the other relatively unknown actors (to western audiences anyway) that are the veritable treat of the film, including the brilliant performances of Martin Wuttke as Hitler, Sylvester Groth as Joseph Goebbels, August Diehl as Major Hellstrom and Daniel Brühl as Fredrick Zoller. However, it is Christoph Waltz as Landa & and Mélanie Laurent as Shosanna who undoubtedly steal the show. One, as the wild and heartless, self-serving villain and the other as the anguished and soulful, self-sacrificing heroine, they adeptly embody the two characters on which the success of the film was ultimately dependent. It is undeniable that with Basterds, QT has again created a band of bold and original characters who are surely set to be endowed into the hallowed halls of the Tarantino cult cache forevermore.

Under the self-proclaimed guise of a “spaghetti western with WW2 iconography”, Tarantino has delivered both his most purely entertaining movie yet and an unforgettable film-going experience. But more importantly, with this film he was able to grant the Second World War a somewhat burlesque ending laced with the sense of poetic justice worthy of the carnage and madness that had preceded it. Some will call it self-indulgent and pretentious, however, it is well worth arguing that most art, and the best art is just that. Ultimately, Basterds was a daring filmic celebration made by a film lover for film lovers and anyone who holds claim to the title of ‘cinephile’ would be imprudent to miss this picture on the big screen.

I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship…

Welcome, one and all, to my Film Review blog that I have affectionally dubbed “Film Idiom”

It is my hope that those who read this (if anyone does) enjoy the reviews, and offer me constructive criticism on my writing. Though the second part isn’t a requirement as such, but it would be nice if it were to eventuate.

Have fun and make sure you see the movies at the cinema; the way they’re meant to be seen

-Shay