Monthly Archives: February 2008

Jane Eyre (1944)

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2008 #12
Robert Stevenson | 96 mins | download | PG

Jane EyreI was meant to read Jane Eyre in the first year of my degree, but, given a week to attempt what seemed a positively enormous tome (I partly blame the edition) and a coinciding essay deadline, I didn’t even attempt it. Instead I settled for a friend summarising it for me — I tuned out halfway through the very long retelling due to boredom, though whether that was the fault of the novel or its summariser I still don’t know. I finally got through Jane Eyre the year before last — not the novel, though, but the BBC’s apparently-definitive adaptation (has it been that long already!), following numerous extremely positive reviews at the time. That was good — because or in spite of the novel, I do not know.

And so I come to this version, made in the wake of Rebecca (ironically, a novel clearly inspired in part by Jane Eyre) and also starring Joan Fontaine, alongside Orson Welles as the brooding love interest, Rochester. Well, he’s supposed to be brooding, but as played by Welles he comes across as merely gruff, apparently with a slightly unusual fake tan. Despite a suitably dramatic entrance, Welles’ stilted and occasionally overplayed performance, as well as a lack of chemistry with the equally weak Fontaine, does nothing to liven up what is already a rather uninspired production. The first 20 minutes are, at best, a Dickens rip-off, though without the appropriate comeuppance for the villains; in this version, it’s less Dickens and more obscene Christian morality play, complete with flat performances and (obviously) an over-reliance on God.

This section moves slowly… and then so does the rest of the film. Considering I’m primarily comparing this hour-and-a-half version to a four-hour miniseries, that’s quite a feat. The plot’s twists and revelations are all sadly underplayed, removing much of their dramatic effect; the same can be said of the abrupt ending. Perhaps there was an assumption that the audience would already be familiar with them, but true or not their weakening helps ruin this interpretation. And that’s all without mentioning the atrocious French accent of Adele, Rochester’s young ward, which often sounds as much like a bad Welsh accent as a French one.

All round, then, a very poor effort. A handful of redeeming features (the odd nice bit of cinematography, brief flashes of some decent performances) keep it from quite sinking to the lowest mark.

2 out of 5

Ocean’s Thirteen (2007)

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2008 #11
Steven Soderbergh | 117 mins | DVD | PG / PG-13

Ocean's ThirteenLast year I reviewed Ocean’s Twelve, and came to the conclusion that it had been slightly harshly treated by critics — while not a patch on the first film, it was a decent enough heist romp. Now it’s the turn of last year’s threequel and, by contrast, I found it to be distinctly overrated.

In fact, I’d personally put Thirteen at about the same level as Twelve. The return to both a Las Vegas setting and the first’s glossy cinematography seem to have fooled many into thinking it’s more like Eleven, but the convoluted and over-long plot (needlessly complicated by some chronologically variable storytelling), relative lack of humour, over-abundance of under-used characters, and lacklustre finale belie the truth.

Thirteen is Twelve with Eleven’s sheen. Its critical success relative to its immediate predecessor is, I think, another of the gang’s expertly executed cons.

3 out of 5

Rebecca (1940)

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2008 #10
Alfred Hitchcock | 125 mins | download | PG

This review could be seen to contain some spoilers.

RebeccaI must confess that I don’t think I’ve come to Rebecca under the best circumstances for judging it as a film in its own right. As with last week’s Great Expectations, Rebecca is on my current University module, which means I arrive at it having just read both Daphne du Maurier’s original novel and, the afternoon before viewing, a detailed and very interesting account of the film’s genesis and production from Hitchcock and Selznick: The Rich and Strange Collaboration of Alfred Hitchcock and David O. Selznick in Hollywood (nothing like a snappy title, eh?) by Leonard J. Leff. Such reading conspires to lead me into direct comparisons with the novel (which, as with most adaptations, are ultimately unfavourable due to things having to be cut), as well as a preoccupation with what was going on during production.

But, trying to put such distracting things aside, Rebecca has a great many good points. The cast, for one thing, are perfect. There were serious doubts about Joan Fontaine as the lead, but she is spot-on as the shy, almost childish, Mrs de Winter. Laurence Olivier is equally effective as Maxim, and Judith Anderson’s Mrs Danvers is suitably scary, if significantly younger than I imagined. The production’s technical aspects are also highly admirable: while the early Monte Carlo scenes may be nothing especially exciting, the plot whizzes past and we soon find ourselves at the infamous Manderley, all large halls, fog-filled grounds, dramatic lighting and big camera moves. Especially of note is Maxim’s confession — a long chunk of dialogue in the novel, it would have been all too easy to just use a flashback, but Hitchcock instead employs a camera move across the empty room to suggest the narrated action.

Further comparisons with the novel are inevitable, of course. The film skips nothing of importance, condensing events effectively so that the plot moves at a decent pace. Some events, such as the fancy dress ball and following ship wreck, are even made more dramatic by combining them. Some choices are thoroughly bizarre though: the novel is well known for its first person narrative, something the film attempts to retain by featuring Mrs de Winter in every scene… until the end when, in a deviation from the novel, she remains at Manderley while we follow Maxim and co. to London for some final twists. This does lead to a dramatic reunion upon Maxim’s return to Manderley, but I’m not convinced such a brief moment was worth the modifications.

As expected, viewing in such close proximity to the novel also forces comparisons that aren’t especially warranted — for example, the film loses much of the characterisation of Mrs de Winter by unsurprisingly finding no way to adapt her frequent flights of fancy and imagination. But then, one can always read the novel for those things (and I’d recommend it — get past the famous but dull opening and it often rattles along), and so, judged purely on its own merits, there is a considerable amount to recommend in Rebecca.

5 out of 5

The Hound of the Baskervilles (1939)

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2008 #9
Sidney Lanfield | 77 mins | DVD | PG

The Hound of the BaskervillesArguably the definitive screen interpretation of Sherlock Holmes and Dr Watson, played by Basil Rathbone and Nigel Bruce, appear for the very first time here, in what would become the first in a series of 14 pictures starring the pair. (Incidentally, this will be the first in an irregular set of reviews of that series. I have the rather lovely Optimum box set, you see, and so shall slowly work my way through it. Though as I’ve already owned it for several years and only just started watching it (as with so many DVDs), I have no idea how long it will be before I finish.)

I’ll start by laying my cards on the table: The Hound of the Baskervilles is a vastly overrated Holmes tale, and one that has been unduly adapted at least 15 other times (that from a quick search of IMDb). As far as I can tell its popularity is primarily due to the circumstances around its original publication (it was the first Holmes story in nearly a decade, following his death in The Final Problem). Holmes is absent for much of the story, which plods along fairly uneventfully (or, at least, inconsequentially) until a slightly dubious climax involving a centuries-old portrait. Naturally, all of these flaws carry over into any faithful adaptation, and this certainly is one.

One of the novel’s strong points is its occasional Gothic styling, and this is something the film version does very well. Dartmoor looks fantastic, like something Tim Burton would have created were he working in the ’30s. It’s clearly a set, but it’s dramatic and moody and completely effective. After the dull and poorly-designed interior scenes in London, it’s fantastic when the film finally moves down into Devon and things… well, don’t exactly get going, but at least there’s something to look at! As with the novel the plot meanders by, diverted by an escaped convict and an entirely pointless (in this version at least) seance, until that painting-based resolution. All is not lost, however, as a particularly vicious-seeming attack by the hound livens things up considerably.

Rathbone is underused as Holmes, which is a shame as he immediately makes the part his own. Bruce isn’t as bungling and comedic as he would later become, though the signs are already beginning to show. And the infamous final line — “Oh Watson, the needle!” — is actually a huge anticlimax if you haven’t seen it before, an entirely pointless, meaningless and misplaced addition.

I feel like I’ve come down a little harshly on Hound of the Baskervilles, mainly thanks to a general unfavourable opinion of the source material. There are many better Holmes stories, often ignored thanks to the fame of this particular one. The following 13 films may be even less faithful adaptations than this, but I’m looking forward to their fun and frivolity, which will hopefully top Baskervilles. The moor really is fantastic though.

3 out of 5

Great Expectations (1998)

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2008 #8
Alfonso Cuarón | 111 mins | download | 15 / R

Great ExpectationsAfter re-enjoying the classic David Lean version of Great Expectations (which I reviewed in 2007) last week as part of my adaptations module, it’s now the turn of this American-set re-imagining. Despite a generally-held negative opinion toward this version, I found it to be more of a mixed bag.

Its main problem is that it can’t escape its roots. Not a fault in an adaptation, you might think, but in the case of one so radical as this it is a flaw: you’re left comparing and contrasting it with Dickens’ novel and Lean’s film, rather than appreciating it as a film or narrative in its own right. It comes across more as an academic exercise in turning a British Victorian novel into a modern American movie than a believable tale that works in isolation. Indeed, many of the changes appear to be designed purely to help distance it: the changed character names, the focus on the love story, and so on. Yet it directly recreates many scenes from the novel, and it obviously retains its title, despite there being no reference to that in the film itself.

Another product of this re-imagining is an unremitting sexualisation of everything. When Pip — sorry, Finn’s — hand is placed on Ms Havisham — sorry, Ms Dismoor’s — chest his first guess is that it’s her “boob” rather than her heart; when 10-year-old Estella kisses Pip — Finn, even — it now comes with added tongues; Finn — Pip — Finn! — draws now, and what he draws are nudes of Estella; and then they have sex too; and there are undoubtedly other examples that have since slipped my mind. This was pre Y Tu Mamá También, of course, where perhaps Cuaron exorcised this sexual preoccupations — they’re certainly not so evident in Children of Men or (unsurprisingly) his Harry Potter. His penchant for long takes, as seen constantly to great effect throughout Children of Men, also put in the odd pleasing appearance here.

By the end, it’s tricky to know what to make of this Great Expectations. It’s nicely faithful for a modern version, and yet that forbids it from striking out as its own work — it’s a fairly basic romantic film, bookended with some bizarre American Gothic trappings. I think it must stand as neither a success nor a failure, but as an interesting curio in the canon of Dickens adaptations.

3 out of 5

That picture was the only one I could find in high enough quality to make a banner image. Honest.

The BAFTAs 2008

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British film’s big night has been and gone. I won’t offer a comprehensive list of winners, or even many thoughts on them — such things are easily found elsewhere — but I will instead offer my thoughts on one of the few ceremonies this year to be presented in full (well, relatively speaking), and the only film awards ceremony that receives a terrestrial television airing in the UK.

The first thought that comes to mind is, “oh dear”. Anyone would think the writers’ strike was affecting the UK too, if this was the evidence they had to go on. Jonathan Ross’s jokes were few and far between, and rarely gained much reaction from his audience. To be fair to Ross, Stephen Fry had a good deal of excellent material when he used to host the BAFTAs and he was often met with silence too… but not as often, and it tended to be the silence of “that went over the heads of the yanks in the audience” rather than of “it wasn’t that funny…”

I like Ross as a presenter, generally speaking — I enjoy his Friday night show, and while I rarely catch his radio show (I’m rather lax about listening to anything on the radio) I enjoy that even more; and I liked Film 2000-whatever, because I often find I agree with his views and have some broadly similar tastes. But he’s no BAFTA host. He’s just not funny enough… oddly, because his work at the Comedy Awards is usually hilariously good.

The opening, with a troop of 300-style Spartans, was by far the most interesting bit. It all seemed quite incongruous for an awards show, but through this it suggested a show with some flair and excitement. Sadly it just remained incongruous, with nothing else even vaguely close amongst the endless troop of fairly famous people reading poorly from an autocue. Even that Spartan-packed opening was flawed, missing out on the apparently obvious joke of having someone enter and yell, “THIS. IS. BAFTA!”, which would’ve been a far stronger opening than… whatever Jonathan Ross said. I can’t remember now…

It’s a shame we couldn’t make a better fist of it for a year when more eyes than ever were on the BAFTAs, thanks to the faltering performance of US awards shows under the strike. A new host would help. Eddie Izzard, maybe — he got laughs. So did Ricky Gervais, not that he’d do it. But when even Hugh Laurie can’t bridge the cultural divide of British and American humour, you have to wonder if the host is doomed to failure from the start. At least the awards themselves threw up some surprises, with enough nods to the American films (and a consequent shunning of British talent) to keep them interested — I do wonder if the BAFTAs pander to trying to gain an American audience too much, but one could probably debate that for hours.

There’s one thing we do better though: fewer awards, and we don’t even screen them all. It makes for a much less tiring experience.

Atonement (2007)

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2008 #7
Joe Wright | 118 mins | DVD | 15 / R

Atonement“The Most Nominated Film of the Year” proudly proclaims a sticker on the cover of Atonement’s newly released DVD. Well, not quite: according to IMDb, Atonement stands at 68 nominations while No Country For Old Men has made it to a whopping 108! Nonetheless, it’s received a near ridiculous amount of acclaim on its way to awards season, and now, having missed it at the cinema, I can finally offer my opinion, just before it does its best to sweep the board at tomorrow’s BAFTAs.

There are certainly a lot of things in Atonement that definitely warrant their nominations, and in many cases the award itself would not be badly placed either. James McAvoy gives a strong lead performance (he is, of course, up for Best Actor at the BAFTAs) and even more astounding is 13-year-old Saoirse Ronan as Briony, wise beyond her years as the over-imaginative girl who causes so much misery. In many ways she’s the lead character, but as she shares the role with two other, older actresses, it’s no surprise she’s up for Best Supporting Actress — she probably stands more of a chance there anyway. She’s certainly one to watch, and can next be seen in Peter Jackson’s adaptation of The Lovely Bones, again as a leading character who’ll probably be designated supporting status because she’s so young. Keira Knightley’s performance, which has earned her a Best Actress nod, is certainly good, but if she wins it’ll be the strength of the film as a whole that carries her through against such tough competition. I should also mention the ever-excellent Benedict Cumberbatch, in a role too small to receive much recognition, yet central to the plot and well played.

Elsewhere at the BAFTAs, Atonement’s up for a slew of awards I’m not especially qualified to comment on in depth: production design, costume design, make-up & hair, sound, editing… Suffice to say the film looks luscious all round. The cinematography is certainly beautiful, capturing the lazy summer days of 1935 equally as well as the tumultuous wartime vistas. Arguably the stand-out sequence in this respect is the much heralded five-minute shot of the beach at Dunkirk. It’s perhaps over-hyped by this point but is still an impressive achievement, if not in the camerawork itself then in the staging of so many consecutive set pieces without a cut.

With all this considered, Joe Wright is a strong contender for Best Director, and also Christopher Hampton for Best Adapted Screenplay. The story jumps back and forth in time, occasionally to slight confusion but always clear enough to follow. The languid first half never drags, and the second half never feels weak despite the essential mystery already being solved. I won’t give away too much here, but the ending is also effectively pulled off, and the final twists feel more natural than tricksy. I haven’t read the novel so can’t compare it to that, but by all accounts it’s a very faithful adaptation. The only thing that really bothered me was that the dates didn’t seem to add up — apparently, World War Two had begun three-and-a-half years after the summer of 1935 (more like four-and-a-bit). A couple of other dates are unclear too, but that strikes me as the main one.

To digress to general BAFTA speculation for a bit (as if I haven’t already), for the directing win, Wright has to face (amongst others) last year’s winner, Paul Greengrass, though as (to my mind) United 93 was a stronger film than The Bourne Ultimatum, I don’t see him winning it again. In both of those awards it’s up against strong Oscar favourites No Country For Old Men and There Will Be Blood — when we’ve got our own film to praise, I’m not sure they’ll be able to stave off Atonement too much. The same goes for Best Film. But then there’s always Best British Film. In theory, if Atonement was good enough to take Best Film then it would take this too, but that’s often not the way — in effect, it’s a chance to reward two different movies. I can’t see Eastern Promises winning, but This is England, Control and The Bourne Ultimatum are all reasonable alternatives. If Atonement wins British Film I won’t be expecting it to go on to get Best Film as well. Of course, you can never be sure.

I appreciate this review has (quite deliberately) focused on Atonement’s BAFTA chances as much as its own merits, but hopefully that has still illuminated my thoughts on the film. It’s a very strong effort from all involved, with an unusually structured but no less engaging plot, beautiful cinematography, nice direction and admirable performances. All round, it’s just about enough to warrant 2008’s second

5 out of 5

Calendar Girls (2003)

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2008 #6
Nigel Cole | 103 mins | DVD | 12 / PG-13

Calendar GirlsHelen Mirren and Julie Walters lead a cast of recognisable British actresses in this popular comedy drama about the true story of a group of Women’s Institute members who posed nude for a charity calendar. The film could so easily have been quite a lowly, cheap TV movie effort, what with its apparently farcical premise, worthy cause and older characters. But instead the filmmakers have crafted a movie that is both utterly hilarious and deeply moving — even for this younger male viewer.

Balancing comedy and drama, and making both work, is quite a feat — as someone once said, most comedy-dramas are so called because they’re neither very funny nor very dramatic — so it’s always impressive to see it pulled off so well. It’s surprisingly fast-paced, the central story supported by a number of well-chosen subplots that help shed light on the motivations of the women, making them more than just some older ladies who decided to strip off. Penelope Wilton is especially worthy of mention, as the downtrodden housewife who uncovers her husband’s affair. Of all the supporting cast she gets probably the largest role, even if it would seem to be the least heralded, and does an excellent job with it.

When I sat down to watch Calendar Girls I was expecting a pleasant bit of fluff that would make a lazy afternoon pass by amiably enough, even if it made an hour-and-three-quarters feel like two-and-a-quarter. I was surprised on most fronts: funnier, pacier, more dramatic, and more affecting than I had any reason to expect. Recommended, especially if you didn’t think it was for you.

4 out of 5

A dismal January

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This new year of film watching has hardly got off to an auspicious start, with only five new films seen in January. For those who haven’t already done the maths, that rate sees me just reaching 60 by the end of the year — a tad short of 100!

But I have new resolve… sort of… and a list. Lists always help. That is, in this case, a list of things in my DVD collection I would especially like to get round to watching. Some of those may well pop up soon. Plus I’ve just started a new film module, which should mean a slew of unseen films… well, one a week at any rate… except the first is Great Expectations, which I saw last year!

Oh well…