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jenniferlplummer
Reviews
A Hard Day's Night (1964)
A Train and a room, a car and a room and a room and a room
By 1964 The Beatles were a huge phenomenon. Already the focus of international obsession, it seemed logical that a feature film would be the way to go. It was not uncommon for musical acts, and pop groups to enter into the world of the big screen to enhance their careers. Instead of musical glamour and romanticised story lines, director Dick Lester and producer Walter Shenson, together with Alun Owen who wrote the screenplay, set out to construct an expose of the culture of the world in which The Beatles lived. The object was to show reality, to document what the lives of the Fab Four were like, albeit lightheartedly. The sense of realism established in Lester's film achieves an important target: The Beatles are playing themselves, and unlike their second feature film, Help! also directed by Richard Lester in 1965, has a plausible and likely plot line. As well as being fictional, A Hard Day's Night could be a straight documentary, revealing intimate character traits of each Beatle. Lennon appears clownish, caustic and cynically sarcastic; McCartney, good natured and playful; Harrison as quietly witty and Ringo appears vulnerable and cute, and all four possess and display with terrific ability the quick, Liverpudlian wit and humour which they became so well known for. Increasing this sense of a realistic setting is Lester's revolutionary behind-the-scenes approach. The result is a humorous and interesting film which revolutionised the landscape of modern cinema. An absolute must whether you are a Beatles fan or not.
10 Rillington Place (1971)
A Horrifyifying Commentary on the British Justice System
In 1969 the death penalty in Great Britain was abolished. Britain had been executing its offenders since time began, but it was as late as the 18th century that people began to question its effectiveness and its benefit to humanity, and it was not for a further two centuries that the possible tragic and unforgivable consequences began to be recognised, and the reformation of the death penalty took its place as one of the major political events to mark the 1960s. To coincide with the event of this movement to humanitise the justice system, Richard Fleischer (already a director of films documenting true-crime tales) directed the film, Ten Rillington Place, the true story of serial killer John Reginald Halliday Christie and Timothy John Evans, the man who was wrongfully hanged for Christie's crimes. The film is not merely a documentation of the events, it is a commentary on the state of the justice system and the voicing of support for the abolition of capital punishment. Filmed on the true location of the murders, Rillington Place in Notting Hill it is painstakingly accurate, but there are some distinguishable qualities which detract from the actual events and put an emphasis on the political commentary of the times: Firstly, there is the fact that the film overtly avoids creating the atmosphere of the typical war-recovery period and the ambiance which went with it. Secondly, the complete omission of any hints as to what drove Christie to become the murderous psychopath he was. Whilst these omissions have prompted criticism, they are clear techniques employed to stave off audience empathy: viewing the film in terms of the cause which it promotes, Ten Rillington Place is a political commentary on capital punishment, as opposed to being an insight into the mind of a killer.
Stylistically, Ten Rillington Place is devoid of clever techniques and without the overt editorialising which marked Fleischer's The Boston Strangler in 1968. Consequently the film is direct and to the point. Fleischer has intentionally avoided any flourishes which may detract from the impact of the story, because it is the story which holds the message. Fleischer allows it to speak for itself.
This landmark in cinematic history is further strengthened through the performances of Richard Attenborough – in his most chilling role as Christie – and the wonderful John Hurt as the simpleton Evans. These two British legends drive the film forward with control and sensitivity.
Chilling and disturbing, this is not easy to watch by any stretch of the imagination, but an important and compelling film and is truly brilliant. A must-see.
How I Won the War (1967)
An Anti-War-Film Film
American director Richard Lester's film How I Won the War is a bizarre, anti-war satire, set in the thick of World War Two. It does not only look at aspects of the ridiculousness of war, and the stereotypes of the war films, but also the ridiculousness of the British. Having been made by an American, the film takes a look at 'Britishness' from an objective view - as an outsider. Consequently, under close scrutiny it becomes apparent that this is not merely an anti-war film, it is an anti-British film, and, ironically an anti-war-film film.
But this film is more than a satirical plot with farcical characters. There is a very serious element. Lester integrates morbid battle-scenes into the plot, spliced in amongst the comedic genius of the cast, whilst simultaneously claiming the soldiers as no more than actors playing a game, commenting on the way the war is often represented in cinema - with glory and heroism. This is the main point of the film. As Richard Lester himself said, "It does reflect a desperately sincere attitude towards the glorification of war by show business... One of the gross obscenities about the war is the war film itself ... like a big adventure with extras being killed in the way of a Western."
This film is clever - very clever - funny and bitter. A gem in the archives of the Cinematic Rennaissance. I doubt such uniqueness could ever be replicated.
Murder at My Door (1996)
A brilliant piece of acting brings this sluggish drama to life
Only Johnny Galecki could play a brutal serial killer and still manage to bring empathy to the role without compromising the horror of his character's actions. Galecki, who is better known for his comedic roles in US sit-coms, exudes a natural vulnerability that commands audience compassion as he delivers what is arguably one of his finest performances to date as the tormented Teddy McNair, nineteen year-old art student lost in a fearful world of ritualistic murder and the quest for catharsis. This acting tour-de-force is simultaneously terrifying, disturbing and achingly poignant - finely executed with talent that could be rivalled by very few.
Murder at My Door, a made-for-TV film, may fall weak at times: a formulaic plot, sluggish pace, detectives who divulge sensitive information to random civilians, fire which doesn't appear to be particularly hot or carry any force, stilted dialogue, and the occasional slip into the melodramatic, but in truth, it doesn't matter. This film is not attempting to create the suspense of a mystery thriller, a whodunit or to throw a series of elaborate twists at the audience. Instead it is a look into the troubled mind of a killer, his desperation, his sick fantasy world, the grief he has carried through childhood, and the muddled relationship between a well-meaning mother and the son she loves, but without realising has emotionally abandoned – and this it does very well. Perhpas it is not the greatest drama ever screened, but strong performances keep it afloat to a level that makes it worth the watch.
Morgan's Ferry (2001)
So much potential, so little exploration
It is always disappointing when an actor commands both the lead role and producer credit yet does not deliver. Billy Zane's performance in Morgan's Ferry is flat and complacent, removing any audience inclination towards empathy for his character.
Zane plays Sam, the principal of three convicts who seek refuge in an old farm house in the deep south, inhabited by an embittered and lonely woman, herself seeking refuge in her own isolation. It is an archetypal story of unlikely love and the overcoming of adversity.
Zane aside, the film fails in a number of areas: the script is weak with stereotypical vernacular, the characters are not sufficiently fleshed out, omitting what at one moment promised to be an interesting back-story of the relationship between two of the convicts, and in the latter third descends into pure, unequivocal sugary gloss, superficial and disappointing.
These crucial aspects aside, Morgan's Ferry ticks a few boxes: beautiful cinematography, powerful symbolism and a gripping narrative, albeit unexplored to its full potential. Acting honours go to the highly overlooked Johnny Galecki – whose unique and compelling contributions to cinema have gone largely unrewarded – for superb characterisation and moving delivery of a difficult role.
With a little more investment in budget, time and characters, this romantic tragedy could have been fantastic. Instead it flounders rather weakly under its mediocre script, tired and overused plot and – Galecki excluded – disinterested actors.
Cassandra's Dream (2007)
An interesting take on a wealth-obsessed London
Almost as if in rebellion against some of his more critically acclaimed work, Woody Allen has pieced together what could have potentially been an enthralling narrative with a static script, stage-play performances and unimaginative camera work.
Whilst the plot itself does have some compelling intricacies – commentaries on the damaging effect of family, the ironies of life and fate, the deception of stereotypes and of course the greed and lifestyle lust around which the story centres – the film itself does little to add emphasis to any of these, and the overall result is rather weak.
Perfectly routed against a foreboding London backdrop, it tells the story of two brothers who allow themselves to be cajoled into a world of deception, blackmail and murder, and who deal with the consequences in very different ways. The film is dark and pessimistic, utilising the Britishness of its setting to its advantages and exposing the characters' weaknesses without mercy.
Ewan McGregor is uninspiring and sadly for an actor with a reputable catalogue of films under his belt, little more can be said about him in this instance. Despite the occasional accent slip, Colin Farrell gives an earnest, emotional performance, documenting his recent climb to a sturdy position as one of the finest international actors working today.
All in all, the film feels like a rush job. Perhaps the intention was for a stylised melodrama, but if this is the case it wasn't quite pulled off. The continuity is poor, the editing sloppy, and the script clumsy and most scenes feel like they were wrapped in one take. Not a great one for Woody Allen's Hall of Fame, but an interesting watch nevertheless.
Daydream Believers: The Monkees' Story (2000)
A simplified but good account
This film makes no secret of its historical inaccuracies, shamelessly combining Rafelson and Schneider into a single character and simplifying the actual events for a barely-scratches-the-surface narrative, but it achieves its objective of amplifying a core message: that all The Monkees wanted and worked for was respect. And this film documents - albeit with loose accuracy - that the respect they craved was in fact deserved.
Geddis and Fisher give excellent performances as perfectionist Michael Nesmith and clown-playing spiritualist and intellectual Peter Tork respectively. Whilst Lohr tries hard, he doesn't quite nail Micky Dolenz's unmistakable energy. Stanchev, however, is badly miscast and captures neither the physical resemblance, the British accent or the unique character of Davy Jones.
The film, too is cluttered with unnecessary material: the opening scene designed to bring the story into the present wasn't required, and instead belittles the value of the Monkey's story in its 1960s setting. It's cheesy ending, too, discredits its achievements.
Whilst it would have made a more exciting viewing to see a reveal-all account of the events and gritty character flaws, the film instead gives us a glossed-over, simplified but nonetheless important glimpse into Monkeemania, the commercial entrapment of its four hostages and their struggle to maintain themselves at its height, therefore excusing its errors and omissions.