Glory (Slava)

It’s not obvious until about half waythrough, but the title of Glory refers to the wristwatch belonging to one of its central characters. Tzanko Petrov (Stefan Denolyubov) is a none too bright but nonetheless conscientious employee of the Bulgarian state railway system who attempts to report his fellow workers for siphoning diesel oil from trains at the taxpayer’s expense. Such a scandal would be inconvenient for the transport minister Kanchev (Ivan Savov) who ignores Tzanko’s allegations. But then doing his rounds tightening nuts on the tracks with his heavy spanner, Tzanko stumbles upon a pile of banknotes spilling out of a bag which he promptly reports to the authorities.

Under the micromanaging eye of government PR guru Julia Staykova (Margita Gosheva), he’s invited to the country capital Sofia for a simple ceremony which doubles as a photo op aiming to show that current state polices produce good, honest workers. In order to present Tzanko with a new watch, she has him remove his own, very ordinary but reliable timepiece so he can be presented with a new one. But in the chaos caused partly by Staykova’s work pressures and partly by the stress from her and her partner Valeri’s attending a fertility clinic to have their potential embryos frozen for possible birth at a later, more convenient time, she mislays Tzanko’s watch. Which, it turns out, is a perfect timekeeper given him by his father and inscribed with the legend, “to my son Tzanko”.

This loss will become the catalyst for Tzanko to talk to investigative journalist Kiril Kolev (Milko Lazarov) about not only the watch but also the corruption which starts with his thieving workmates and goes right up to the minister at the top who can’t be bothered to sort out the problem – the one conversation Staykova is desperate to prevent.

Although Tzanko could easily have been treated as a pathetic figure of fun – witness Staykova and colleagues laughing at unusable talking head footage where he explains his find of the money with a stutter that makes delivering the explanation extremely difficult for him – the filmmakers are clearly on the humble worker’s side. This is a lowly and simple man concerned with running to time, telling the truth and making sure his beloved pet rabbits are well fed and cared for.

By way of contrast, Julia Staykova constantly wastes the time of everyone around her – for instance, the health professionals who are trying to help her when she takes ‘important’ work phone calls in the middle of a meeting with them. This is no different to suddenly having Tzanko remove his watch to facilitate a presentation designed not to serve him but to make her political masters look good. There’s no denying she’s under a lot of pressure, but it’s hard to like Staykova whereas the values for which Tzanko’s largely unremarkable life stands are admirable making one immediately sympathetic to his plight.

Indeed, the two characters embody the underclass and the overclass – the honest, conscientious worker and the highly pressured government employee out of touch with not only those around her but also the mass of ordinary people to whom her work is supposed to be of benefit. I was reminded of the contrast between UK‘s self-serving Conservative politicians who set up the EU Referendum assuming people would vote Remain, and all those UK voters who suddenly had the chance to tell their political masters exactly what they though of them by voting Leave.

Clearly there are parallels with the political class in other countries too. There may well be many ordinary people who are far less honest – and they’re visible in the tale’s background – but it’s the political elite and those around them who come off worst here. Glory touches a raw nerve in the West and elsewhere: at the time of writing, the film has notched up some 31 awards as well as being nominated for Bulgaria’s Best Foreign Language Film Oscar. It’s not hard to see why.

Glory is out in the UK on Friday, January 5th. Watch the film trailer below:

Brad’s Status

This is a film – as you may have gathered from its title – about status. About craving for economic, social and political status. About the profound dilemmas and anxiety experienced by a 47-year-old white American male constantly longing for wealth, success and recognition. Brad (played by a greying and very charming Ben Stiller) has economic stability, a beautiful wife and a nice kid. Yet he wants more. He wants to be just like his old university chums, who seem to lead a hedonistic life with abundant wealth and fame.

Brad’s wife Melanie (Jenna Fischer) is perfectly happy with their life, and she challenges her spouse when he bemoans their situation. “We’re not poor, except compared to 1% of Americans”, she notes. This doesn’t help. Brad secretly blames her for their “ordinary life. He secretly tells himself: “her contentedness jeopardises my ambition”. In fact, most of the film is a voice-over of Brad’s own thoughts and consciousness. Almost like a monologue.

A very effective multi-threaded script navigates the various dilemmas that a perfectly likable American dad experiences inside in his head, often without sharing them with anyone. The first dilemma is between moneymaking and wealth/fame. Brad works for “not-for-profit” organisation, but he seems to spend most of his time trying to convince himself that this is more noble and worthwhile than becoming rich and successful. He tries it in vain. His thoughts are constantly riddled with invidiousness and competitiveness of his old mates, who enjoy far more status than him. His old friends “bask in each other’s glow”, and willingly exclude him, Brad thinks.

The second dilemma is between contentedness and ambition. Should his age, his wife and his child be a barrier in his claim to fortune and stardom? Brad suddenly opts for substitution. His son Troy (Austin Abrams) secures an interview at Harvard, leaving the father elated. But this turns out to be problematic, too, and here comes a third dilemma: should Brad support and celebrate his son’s achievements, or should he prevent his son from shining out of fear that Troy could turn his back on his father, leaving him far more despondent and alienated? His son might “abandon” him, just like his old friends.

Ultimately, this is a film about the realisation of ageing and of one’s personal limitations in a society as competitive as the US. It’s also about the futility of the American dream. A female Indian applicant at Harvard reminds Brad that he has leveraged his “white privilege” and “male privilege”, and yet he is unable to achieve satisfaction. He grapples with perceived rejection and failure. The American dream is unattainable, and no matter how high you climb, you are never satisfied. You want more.

Brad’s Status is out in cinemas across the UK on Friday, January 5th.

Darkest Hour

The year is 1940 and Prime Minister Neville Chamberlain’s (Ronald Pickup) pro-appeasement government is in fractured disarray. Chamberlain’s position is untenable and although Foreign Secretary Lord Halifax (Stephen Dillane) is his preferred successor, the controversial hawkish boor Winston Churchill (Gary Oldman) has better cross-party appeal. Occupying Nazi forces are swiftly making their way across Western Europe and it’s up to Churchill to guide Britain through a pivotal pair of months.

The narrative issue that plagues Darkest Hour is that it quickly becomes the story of how one man tried to make one decision, while two other men tried to make another decision. Dialogue isn’t something to be sniffed at and is certainly preferential to a WW2 film with endless CGI explosions. However, Anthony McCarten’s screenplay here is spectacularly boring. A typical segment involves Churchill suggesting to his war cabinet that Britain evacuate troops from Dunkirk, only for Chamberlain and Halifax to suggest that Britain sign a peace treaty. Heads clash, neither decision is made and 20 minutes later the same segment unfolds.

This is a real shame, because there’s plenty of potential for a backstabbing political thriller. We need only look at the work of Aaron Sorkin (from the television series The West Wing) or Beau Willimon (House of Cards) to understand how the nuts and bolts of politics can be wrought with riveting writing. This never presents itself in Darkest Hour. Instead, McCarten appears to rest on the laurels of Gary Oldman’s undeniably fantastic acting and Churchill’s undeniably mythologised character to do the interesting work for him.

Rather than writing nifty dialogue that drips with political intrigue, McCarten focuses his script on the drunken oafish orator who is so beloved by the British public. Hence the audience laughs as Churchill bellows “will you stop interrupting me while I’m interrupting you” at Halifax, which – although admittedly funny – lazily relies on the cult of personality around a man somehow admired for his objectionable wit.

McCarten has previously been criticised for his romanticised adaptation of Jane Hawkings’ memoir in The Theory of Everything (James Marsh, 2014). This lazy relationship with the truth is on display again in Darkest Hour, as the writer scripts a fictional scene in which Churchill talks to everyday Londoners on the Underground and consequently finds fighting conviction to argue his anti-appeasement policy in the House of Commons. Churchill was an aristocrat who was known for stoking class dissent among the anarchist, labour and Suffragette movements. The invention of this scene is therefore absurd. It’s a cunning stunt worthy of the cigar-smoking man himself.

Of course, the mythologising of Churchill’s persona has significant implications for current British affairs. According to the film, he was a solo male figure who, in spite of his fellow parliamentarians’ doubts, stood up against a ruthless German superpower to guarantee Britain’s sovereignty. Indeed, he even got his popular plebiscite mandate in the imaginary Underground sequence. There’s a hint of his long-time fanboy Boris Johnson in this depiction, perhaps a David Davis style character, or even a Paul Dacre. Ever since the July 2016 Brexit referendum, the UK has faced an onslaught of modern Britain’s most idolised political hero. From polymer £5 notes to Churchill (Jonathan Teplitzky, 2017) and Dunkirk (Christopher Nolan, 2017), there’s a creeping feeling that we’re gearing up for an epic battle. Darkest Hour fits this trend perfectly, with its own brand of toxic tub-thumping nationalism.

To be clear, the performances in the film are top-notch. Prosthetics notwithstanding, Gary Oldman inhabits Churchill with dramatic dominance. Ben Mendelsohn tears Colin Firth’s (The King’s Speech, Tom Hopper, 2010) award-winning George VI crown from its perch, while Kristin Scott Thomas shines as Churchill’s long-suffering spouse. It’s just that the central conceit is terribly executed and inherently unoriginal. There’s certainly space for celebrating Churchill’s successful strategic shift in the Second World War. But does it really have to be celebrated so regularly on the brink of Brexit?

It would be far more timely to examine Churchill’s flaws alongside his famed achievements. This is a man who spent his early political career opening concentration camps in sub-Saharan Africa, sending Black and Tan thugs after Irish Catholic civilians and advocating the use of chemical warfare against Kurdish revolutionaries in colonial Mesopotamia. This is a leader who clung onto the dying dregs of the British Empire for so long that he called for the death of Mahatma Gandhi and allowed 3 million people to starve in the 1943 Bengal famine. Is this really the sort of political legacy that 21st century post-Brexit Britain aspires to?

Darkest Hour purports to show Britain’s darkest period in its mid-20th century struggle against continental European fascism. Instead, it ends up showing two dull hours that fail to accurately reflect on the many dark hours that Churchill actively embraced across his blood-stained existence.

Joe Wright’s Darkest Hour was out in UK cinemas on Friday, January 12th (2017). DMovies recommend that you trade it for the darkness of your bedroom/lounge, and for a more balanced and less romantic take on British history. Available on all major VoD platforms.