L.A. Confidential (1997)

2008 #26
Curtis Hanson | 132 mins | DVD | 18 / R

L.A. ConfidentialOnce again I’m watching an adaptation shortly after plowing through the source novel, a situation that has so far proved awkward for giving films a fair assessment. L.A. Confidential is an especially tricky one: how does a 480-page, densely written, intricately plotted crime novel, spanning seven years and “no fewer than four and perhaps as many as a dozen major crimes”, translate into a two-and-a-quarter-hour film? With more than a few surprises, as it turns out, because the apparently minor changes near the film’s start turn out to be the proverbial pebble in a pond: their ripples spread so far that, by the second half, not even a reader who can remember the many details of the novel’s complex plot will know for sure what’s coming.

This isn’t necessarily a bad thing. If screenwriters Hanson and Brian Helgeland had tried to squeeze in everything the movie would have been rushed even at three hours. Instead they’ve excised several unnecessary subplots and trimmed others to the bare minimum. Most impressively, they’ve picked apart several of the multitudinous plot threads and completely restructured them. It’s an incredible feat of adaptation. The downside is that some great strands are lost. Ed Exley’s father plays a huge role in the novel but is completely absent here; Inez Soto, the victim of a brutal gang rape, is reduced from a key supporting character to a couple of lines. Another connected loss is some characterisation. Jack Vincennes and Exley lose the most, though Bud White’s development is tied too closely to the main storyline. That said, the characters are still mostly there, painted quickly and precisely; they may lack some of the depth and complexity the novel can offer, but that’s an almost unavoidable difference between a film and a long, well-written novel. To make a good film such sacrifices are necessary — even though it’s been simplified, the novel’s complex plot is still a long way from becoming straightforward.

What impressed me most about L.A. Confidential is that, despite spending huge chunks of the film pondering what they’d cut and changed, I still enjoyed it immensely. Even while distracted with thoughts of the novel, its differences and its relative merits, I could still enjoy the fantastic filmmaking. The casting is perfect, especially Spacey, Pearce and Crowe (perhaps the last most of all, considering his penchant for real life violence). For once it really is as if the roles were written for them, making it easy to forget that Pearce and Crowe were virtually unknown at the time. They’re supported by a cracking screenplay (which I think I’ve praised plenty already) and beautiful direction, which manages to evoke the period without being shot like a period film — Hanson has stated that he aimed to make it period-accurate but shoot it like a modern thriller, and he’s succeeded. There may be one or two imperfections (the music felt a little repetitive to me, for example), but they’re slight and it seems churlish to pick on them in any depth.

I look forward to watching L.A. Confidential again without the novel hanging over my head. I’ve made my comparisons now, and my memory’s weak enough that, by the time I get round to watching it again (perhaps when the long-rumoured special edition re-release turns up), I’ll have forgotten enough of the novel’s specifics to not be bothered by them. I expect I’ll enjoy it even more then. It’s an excellent achievement, both as an adaptation and a film in its own right. You can’t say fairer than that.

5 out of 5

Rashomon (1950)

2008 #24
Akira Kurosawa | 88 mins | DVD | 12 / PG-13

RashomonOne has to wonder if Dr. Gregory House was exposed to Rashomon at a young age. House’s universal truth — “everyone lies” — is also the conclusion of Kurosawa’s much-lauded film, in which four witnesses tell different versions of the events surrounding a samurai’s murder.

The “Rashomon” of the title is one of two gates to Kyoto, built in 789 and in disrepair and disrepute by the film’s 12th Century setting, but thanks to this film the word has come to signify a narrative that retells the same event from multiple perspectives. Mentioning it seems unavoidable when writing about a film (or episode of TV, or novel, or…) with such a structure, as reviews of recent thriller Vantage Point would attest. However, most similar tales aren’t quite as radical as this ‘original’ (which is based on two short stories by Ryunosuke Akutagawa), in which the four tales differ wildly.

Justifiably, much has been written about Rashomon, both critically and analytically. As such I’m not going to dig too deeply here, but instead just highlight a couple of reasons why it’s so acclaimed. For one, it looks great. Kazuo Miyagawa’s cinematography is exemplary, producing gorgeous rain at the gate, wonderful shadows in the forest, and employing numerous inventive shots and moves, always effective rather than showy. Fumio Hayasaka’s music underscores proceedings beautifully, coming into its own during long dialogue-free sequences. The performances are also accomplished, especially Toshiro Mifune as laughing bandit Tajomaru, but also Masayuki Mori’s largely silent turn as the murdered samurai, and Fumiko Honma’s chillingly freaky medium.

As I said, there’s much more that could be (and has been) written about Rashomon — I’ve not even touched on the intricacies of the plot, the presentation of the courthouse scenes, the significance of the fights, and so on. Certain viewers might be put off by the subtitles, the black and white photography, the film’s age, and its occasional ‘arthouse’-ness — and, I confess, I’m one of the first people to get fed up with films like Tati’s Play Time or Ozu’s Tokyo Story — but, for me, Rashomon was an incredibly enjoyable first encounter with Kurosawa.

5 out of 5

Rashomon placed 5th on my list of The Ten Best Films I Saw For the First Time in 2008, which can be read in full here.

Sunset Blvd. (1950)

(aka Sunset Boulevard, of course. See here if you’re really interested.)

2008 #22
Billy Wilder | 106 mins | DVD | PG

Sunset BoulevardSunset Blvd. may not be the first movie about the movies, but for the amount of controversy it caused and the impact it’s had it may as well have been. It’s certainly a well respected film — I’m sure I could cite any number of Greatest Films Ever lists it’s turned up on, but everyone always disagrees about those.* Nonetheless, any film with such acclaim attached to it also has more than its fair share of expectation, with anything less than total brilliance liable to falter.

And, to my expectation-laden eyes, falter it does — not fatally, by any means, but enough to damage my opinion. William Holden makes for an effective enough lead, his dialogue and narration peppered with memorable quotes and observations. Gloria Swanson is fantastic as the deluded, pitiable faded star, especially when she sinks to her lowest in the final scenes. The opening is iconic for good reason, the final shot equally glorious, both meaningful and creepy. But the plot has a tendency to meander in the middle, sometimes latching on to half-introduced ideas and characters to vaguely examine another facet of the industry. It certainly has a lot to say about the workings of Hollywood during the studio system and, viewing it 58 years on, what has or hasn’t changed since.

It’s by no means a bad film, just occasionally puzzling when its huge acclaim contrasts with the flaws I perceived. As such, it’s tempting to say Sunset Blvd. is overrated. But really that would be a slightly sensational way of saying I’m not entirely sure what to make of it. One day I’m likely to see it again with better-informed eyes, but for now…

4 out of 5

* Incidentally, while I’m mentioning Greatest Films polls, I’ve just discovered The 1,000 Greatest Films, a list that compiles 1,604 different lists to create a ‘definitive’ one. Sunset Blvd. placed 31st on the 2007 update.

A Room with a View (1985)

2008 #14
James Ivory | 112 mins | download | PG

A Room with a ViewI can’t help but wonder if, back in 1985, there was any audience confusion between A Room with a View and A View to a Kill. One can imagine legions of Bond fans accidentally finding themselves with a witty heritage drama, and legions of old dears accidentally finding themselves with a man twice their age trying to be an action hero. (In actuality the films were released about a year apart — that being just one reason this is a particularly silly notion.)

Putting aside such nonexistent confusion, what of that witty heritage drama? Once again, thanks to the adaptations module of my degree, I’m stuck watching a film straight after reading the novel it’s based on. So far these viewings have supported my long-held theory that reading any novel before watching the film version (especially immediately before) is a Very Bad Idea. However good A Room with a View may be — and it certainly has its share of positives — it still pales slightly in direct comparison to the novel.

The film’s faithfulness is admirable at least, combining events effectively at times and at others leaving well alone. Unfortunately this “copying out” style of adaptation means that the dialogue is exactly as written but sometimes loses important elements through its abbreviation. In the novel, characters frequently mean something entirely different to what they say, but you wouldn’t guess so in the film. Similarly, a lot of the novel’s wittiness is lost — unsurprising, as much is carried in Forster’s narration, which here is largely left unadapted. “Largely”, because chapter names occasionally intrude as intertitles or subtitles. These usually merely skip what would be a few lines of expositional dialogue, but occasionally they’re entirely pointless, and frequently are rendered meaningless by what would otherwise be minor tweaks to the plot. As I suggested at the start, however, a lot of these flaws are only blatant when placed in stark contrast with the novel.

Others aren’t. Julian Sands is disappointingly flat as love interest George Emerson, and he frequently drags Helena Bonham Carter down with him (and not in the “written by Andrew Davies” sense). In my opinion, Bonham Carter is the weak line in an otherwise flawless cast, neither acting nor looking much like my image of Lucy (Sands might not give much of a performance, but at least he looks the part, and Emerson is meant to be quite awkward). This could well be just my personal vision clashing with that of the filmmakers, of course, but there you have it. Those two aside, the rest of the cast are excellent: Maggie Smith and Judi Dench are note-perfect, especially in the handful of scenes they share (it’s a real shame Dench’s character disappears before the halfway mark); Daniel Day-Lewis is the right mix of comical, annoying and unfortunate truth as Cecil; and Simon Callow, Denholm Elliott and a young Rupert Graves are also perfect fits for their roles.

Finally, no Room with a review (ho ho) can be complete without praising how gorgeous Italy looks here. The camera lingers on the art and architecture more like a documentary than a fiction film, taking the viewer on a sightseeing tour just as much as the characters. There are essays to be written (indeed, they have been) on why such spectacle is a bad thing, but if you don’t want to be so pretentious then it’s wonderful to look at. Which, in many ways, sums up the entire film.

4 out of 5

Jane Eyre (1944)

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

Rebecca (1940)

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

Great Expectations (1998)

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.

Atonement (2007)

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)

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

Telling Lies (2001)

2007 #127a
Simon Ellis | 4 mins | DVD

A simple idea, very well executed: as we listen to a series of phone conversations, the speakers’ dialogue appears on screen… except instead of transcribing their exact words, it reveals their true thoughts. At only a few minutes long this doesn’t outstay its welcome, instead maintaining the basic idea well and crafting a neat and amusing little story with it. Worth checking out if you have a chance.

4 out of 5

Telling Lies is available on the DVD Cinema16: British Short Films or can be watched on Vimeo for free.