The Strangers: Prey at Night

As the door closes on an amorous couple, either clothes could frantically be ripped off for an impulsive fuck, or sensual foreplay could precede the penetrative act that leads to an orgasmic crescendo. Excusing the vulgarity, if able to compare cinema and sexual relations, of momentary pleasure versus a more emotional or meaningful, or even intellectual experience, then The Strangers (Bryan Bertino, 2008) is the latter, whilst its sequel The Strangers: Prey at Night (the film being reviewed here) is filled with an impulsive and violent lust.

On route to dropping their troubled teen daughter Kinsey (Bailee Madison) off at boarding school, a family find themselves the prey of masked killers in a secluded mobile home park.

The sequel’s urgency to descend into violent bloodshed, opposite the abstention of penetrative violence of the former, creates a disconnect between the two films. From a suspenseful game of cat and mouse, the series, if there is such ambition for a trilogy or franchise, has journeyed to a focus on the physicality of violence. What we see is the carnal satisfaction of the impulses over a more emotive type of storytelling; suspense then crafted through anticipation versus suspense now of surviving the storm of violence.

Yet this should be respected as the sequel’s director Johannes Roberts, working with a script from the original film’s screenwriter-director Bryan Bertino and co-writer Ben Keatai, oversees a redirection from the home invasion to the slasher sub-genre. Remaining in and expanding upon a world that is plot- rather than narrative-centric is inevitably vulnerable to suspicion, leading to trepidation and tempered expectations. This redirection does not qualify as a whole transformation, the violent home invasion scenario and the underlying theme of pressure to an already fractured relationship is a dynamic carried on over. Yet breaking the claustrophobia of the home and sub-genre, does allow the film to find its own identity in the presence of its older sibling.

An interesting note is the way these two films feed into the theme of escalation and how Pin-up’s closing words in 2008 that “It’ll be easier next time”, are now seen in a new context. The way events transpire here speaks to the inability to contain violence, even by those orchestrating it. The problem is that this fracture lacks the same potency as the first film, which evokes the uncomfortable feeling of intrusion upon a sensitive moment for couple James (Scott Speedman) and Kristen (Liv Tyler), following her rejection of his marriage proposal.

The intrusion of the masked tormentors and their murderous intent only stoked these feelings of intrusion, tapping into that wisdom given to newlyweds for a couple to always end a day as friends. Throughout this resonates with tragedy as a couple are deprived of peacefully resolving an awkward moment that has left their relationship on a precipice.

Film functions on an emotive level, evoking feelings within its audience that are both divided between a conscious and unconscious awareness. The fractured family through the teenage recklessness that reminds mother Cindy (Christina Hendricks) of her own youthful mistakes, injects an emotional dilemma of the consequence of one’s actions, with what is a rational and reasonable sense of guilt. Rather than lacking the same potency, in the former the fracture was felt emotionally, whereas here its resonance evolves from an emotional into a philosophical one. Kinsey who if the archetypal ‘final girl’, will have to confront that all too human battle of learning to forgive oneself, which is a direct challenge to the oppressive hierarchical structure of the catholic faith. Meanwhile, her ordeal if survived is one that sees a transformation of her sense of self, that represents a death of the reckless and angry teenager who was first introduced. The Strangers: Prey At Night is a film of metamorphosis on multiple levels, a progression that affords it an independent spirit.

A decade on from the release of the first film, the sequel is no example of exceptional filmmaking, nor is it original, yet neither is it foolhardy or under any illusions of grandeur. Rather its director and writers work modestly in a familiar form, and thankfully they avoid frequent jump scares and other futile attempts to terrify. Instead they choose to craft a humble and therein an enjoyable slasher, and one cannot deny the bond formed with Kinsey as we share in her traumatic ordeal. Here is a pure bout of good versus evil that we can cheer and fist-pump along to, whilst indulging in that tactical ‘what if’ we were in this situation. It is however without doubt a momentary pleasure, a quick and impulsive experience through the tonal contrasts to its forerunner. But every once in a while there is no harm in indulging in a little pleasure, and look a little closer and there is a reminder of deeper human concerns peering through the horrific ordeal.

The Strangers: Prey at Night is out in cinemas across the UK on Friday, May 4th. Available for digital streaming on Rakuten from Monday, August 20th.

A Cambodian Spring

Film is a powerful weapon against oppressive regimes and also an instrument of international solidarity. In this case, a group of Cambodian activists use both their phones and the foreign director’s camera in order to register police brutality and the government’s anti-democratic stance between 2011 and 2016. The country’s “democracy”, which was reinstated roughly in 1979 after the demise of Pol Pot’s ultra-oppressive Khmer Rouge is very young and fragile. This is a typical example of illiberalism – alongside countries such as Brazil and Tunisia -, ie so-called democratic nations where the erosion of human rights and the state of exception are pervasive.

Most of the action takes place in and around the Boeng Kak Lake area (pictured below), in the country’s capital Phnom Penn, where the local community is fighting against forced resettlement. The government is planning to build a modern block in the area, but the compensation offered to these people is described as “ridiculous”. Their struggle against developers becomes heated and violent, and it’s only once the world bank (which is financing the project) steps in in favour of the impoverished dwellers that the government takes action. A truce is finally achieved, but the solution is as brittle as the country’s democracy. And soon the struggle resumes.

Predictably, this is not lighthearted viewing. This 130-minute doc will hit you right in the face with its candidness and straightforwardness. This is not a fly-on-the-wall type of film. You too will right inside at the heart of protests.

There are constant mentions of Pol Pot and Khmer Rouge. To these Cambodians, the current regime is equally oppressive. “The difference is that violence here is expressed through corruption”, one of them clarifies. The government’s view of democracy is a little perverse, to say the least. The governor of Phnom Pen explains: “you don’t do democracy on streets, but through dialogue”, in order to discourage and delegitimise protests. So you don’t do democracy on the streets. That’s a new one for me!

It isn’t just democracy that’s been subverted here. Religion (Buddhism, in this case) is used for very unholy purposes. The Supreme Patriarch is aligned with the corrupt government, reminding us of the dangers of a religious state. A monk called Venerable Sopach (pictured below) refuses to abide and instead sides with the people. He’s the true expression of altruism and care for the poor. Yet the “monk police” threaten to defrock him, and he’s eventually evicted from the pagoda where he dwells. His offences: “illegally attending court” and fostering demonstrations. “A Pagoda is not a place for protest”, he’s told.

A female activist called Vanny Tep is the other protagonist. She eventually travels to the US in order to speak at the World Bank and to meet Hillary Clinton and Christine Lagarde. A major achievement, of course. Yet I’m not convinced that talking to these two lovely ladies is necessarily a victory against capitalism.

The resilience of Baung Kak protesters is remarkable, but their cause eventually gets diluted into a much bigger effort for democracy, as 100,000 garment factory workers go on strike and the country takes to the streets in order to protest against Hun Sen’s rigged elections. They are joined by the opposition leader, and together they finally reach an agreement with the government. It didn’t last long. Just last November, just after the film was completed and premiered in Europe, Cambodia’s top court dissolved the country’s opposition, in what’s clearly yet another major blow to the country’s (travesty of) democracy. Hun Sen is still the country’s Prime Minister to this date.

A Cambodian Spring was out in cinemas across the UK on Friday, May 17th. Available on BFI Player from Friday, January 25th.

10 films about May 1968 and the French revolutionary spirit

Fifty years have passed since students joined forces with factory workers, communists and others and wreaked political havoc in France in the month of May 1968. The dimensions of protests and the flare of demonstrators isn’t comparable to anything we have seen in Europe since (or, in the case of the UK, ever in history). It was a political, social, cultural and moral turning point, and it lay the foundations for many of the anti-establishment movements that Europe and the world have seen since. These people protested against capitalism, consumerism and American Imperialism. The beast of neo-liberalism didn’t exist back then. I would hazard a guess that that they wouldn’t be sympathetic of the extreme anti-worker and anti-equality agenda implemented by Reagan and Thatcher, and honed by the likes of Blair and Clinton.

The revolutionary guile and fervour were such that political leaders feared yet another French revolution. Government momentarily ceased to function and President Charles de Gaulle secretly fled the country for a few hours. Roughly two thirds of the French workforce were on strike at the height of the protests, and more than 400 popular action committees were set up in Paris alone. Most universities completely ceased to operate.

Below is a list of 10 films either looking back at the 1968 events or heavily influenced by them. This is just the right time to watch (or rewatch) these films and instil some revolutionary spirit into each one of us. We live in a world increasingly unequal, consumerist and complacent, so it’s about time we stand up and set fire to our reactionary establishment! The films are listed in no specific order, and just click on the title in order to accede to our dirty review (where available).

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1. The Dreamers (Bernardo Bertolucci, 2003):

This is perhaps the best-known and most easily accessible film about the 1968 events, as Italian director Bernardo Bertolucci crafts a lighthearted romantic comedy about an American student (played by Michael Pitt) caught up in the eye of hurricane. He befriends two French siblings (Louis Garrel and Eva Green) who have an almost incestuous relationship. The cultural shock in the film’s centrepiece. Here the revolution is both social and sexual.

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2. Redoubtable (Michel Hazanvicious, 2017):

Michel Hazanavicious’s latest movie is a gentle, comprehensible and easy-digestible film about a very complex artist, who is often very difficult to stomach. Jeasn-Luc Godard thrived on controversy, paradoxes and even rejection – he loved admired his most ferocious critics: the students and activists. His fiery, rowdy, peremptory, arrogant and blasé temperament are efficiently delivered by the actor Louis Garrel (same as in The Dreamers).

he Redoubtable takes place in 1967, a year before the student protests erupted in Paris, and when Godard to married Anne Wiazemsky. The film focuses on both his unpredictable demeanour and Anne’s difficulties in putting up with his cold and confrontational style, which extended from politics to bed. Godard is the epitome of revolution himself, and the connection between the fiery director and the 1968 protests will become crystal clear as soon as you begin to watch the film.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dgX-UUiFcQA

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3. Regular Lovers (Philippe Garrel, 2003)

A Parisian poet called François (played by… ahem… Louis Garrel, the same actor as in the two above films, who also happens to be the director’s son) dodges the military service during the 1968 May protests. He decides to party instead with a young sculptor called Lilie with whom he’s infatuated. They seek refuge in a friend’s mansion as the protests begin to escalate, where they comfortably meditate on the meaning and implications of art, revolution and bloodshed. All while they get intoxicated with opium. It is often said that Philippe Garrel made Regular Lovers in response to Bertolucci’s The Dreamers, which he detested.

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4. Something in the Air (Olivier Assayas, 2012)

This film takes place in the early 1970s, and it follows a student named Gilles as he gets involved in politics and the repercussions of the 1968 events. He’s torn between arts and politics. The movie reflects about the meaning of revolution, and how to reconcile a dirty and creative side with the requirements of the political mainstream.

Click here for our exclusive interview with the director Olivier Assayas.

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5. May Fools (Louis Malle, 1990)

No, this is not a film about the UK and its current British PM. Instead, the “fools” here are a French family who wilfully chooses to ignore the May 1968 protests. They are too preoccupied with their petit-bourgeois ordeals and petty family arguments. The future of their country simply does not seem to concern them. The film takes place during the funeral of the matriarch.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_-x0IPdHha8

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6. Tout Va Bien (Jean-Pierre Gorin/ Jean-Luc Godard, 1972)

It’s difficult to pick a film by Godard for this list. Most of his films are so revolutionary in one way or another that maybe they all should be here. We decided to pick Tout Va Bien because it’s the one most directly dealing with 1968. It focuses on a strike at a sausage factory as seen by an American reporter and her French husband, a prominent businessman. The movie is teeming with irony and sarcasm, and it’s ultimately about destruction through capitalism. The tongue-in-cheek title means “everything is going well in English”.

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7. Half a Life (Romain Goupil, 1982)

This is a biographical black and white documentary about Michel Recanati, a militant leader during the May 1968 protests. It tells the story of two friends through the left-wing groups in Paris between 1966 and 1978 when Michel goes missing and it is later discovered that he committed suicide, at the age of just 30.

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8. 120 BPM (Robin Campillo, 2017):

This film, which almost won Cannes last year, takes place in the late 1980s and early 1990s, but the passion and the extreme tactics of the protesters will be easily recognisable to those familiar with 1968. Act Up (Aids Coalition to Unleash Power) is an international direct action advocacy group promoting awareness of the Aids pandemic, as well as fighting for legislation, medical research and treatment for those infected.

The group originated in the US, and it was notoriously active in France – the country had more than twice the number of infections as Germany and the UK (according to the movie). “Direct action” and “fighting” are not euphemisms. These young and energetic activists engaged in extreme activism, including invading a pharma labs and bombarding it with fake blood, handcuffing an executive on stage during a major event, and guerrilla-lecturing schools about safe sex while also handing out condoms to underage boys and girls.

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9. In the Intense Now (Joao Moreira Salles, 2017)

This Brazilian film provides the 1968 events in France with a worldly context, as revolution took place in the streets of Brazil, and Brazilians mobilised against the ruling dictatorship. The films is a collage of footage and images from the 1960s with reflections and commentary made in Portuguese by the director himself. France saw the May 1968 student uprising, while Czechoslovakia experienced the Prague Spring (which attempted to lessen the stranglehold the Soviet Union had on the nation’s affairs) and Brazilians resisted the country’s military dictatorship.

In the Intense Now is a lyrical piece with a somber tone. Salles’s voice is stern and laborious, and the second half of the movie feels like an eulogy to a bygone revolution, sepulchred by Charles de Gaulle, the Soviets and the dictatorship in Brazil. Extracts from various French films are used in the 127-minute-long film, and special attention is given to the Mourir à 30 Ans (also on this list) – a sad tribute to the 1968 revolutionaries who committed suicide at the age of just 30.

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10. Nocturama (Bertrand Bornello, 2016):

The last film on our list is profoundly French, revolutionary and incendiary, and undoubtedly inspired by the 1968 events. Bornello uses the history of France ir order to construct new revolutionaries. This bunch of sans culotte are radical and militant partisans. Their rhetoric is not coherent, but they are ready to sacrifice their lives for a new order. They are able to infiltrate the security of French companies because they do not look like Arabs. They are clever enough to rehearse their terrorist attacks in a natural way.

Once their purpose is complete, they decide they will meet again for a whole night in a shopping mall – the most ironic place to be. Malls shouldn’t be a place to be happy, have fun and celebrate the success of a terrorist attack. Indeed Bonello’s criticism of the establishment is very acid. For him, terrorists want the same things as the bourgeoisie.

A Violent Man

Much like HBO’s mini-series The Night Of, A Violent Man occupies the ground of “worst case scenario” situations. After Ty, a struggling mixed martial arts (MMA) fighter played by Thomas Q. Jones cheats on his girlfriend with a reporter (Denise Richards), said reporter is found dead in her apartment the same night, choked to death. Considering Ty’s chosen profession, the detective’s question “are you a violent man?” makes the whole case seem open and shut. To complicate matters, Ty becomes a viral sensation after footage of him beating champion Marco Reign (retired MMA superstar Chuck Lidell) in a sparring match is released online.

There are moments in A Violent Man when it seems like director Matthew Berkowitz is criticising the fetishisation of black male athletes. There is an extremely charged chokehold demonstration that recalls that particularly uncomfortable moment during Get Out’s (Jordan Peele, 2017) dinner scene. Similarly, Ty’s race and enormous physical presence lead to him being consistently dehumanised, other characters refer to him as a “beast” on more than one occasion. In one scene, Ty is greeted with mistrust in a jewellery store, labouring the racism angle, but there is a germ of an interesting idea there.

What undermines this idea is that Berkowitz shows that Ty is prone to violence outside of the ring. After a disagreement in a strip club, Ty smashes a brick into the head of a man (bafflingly played by Jersey Shore’s Mike Sorrentino) and later almost kills someone in an underground fight club. Jones’ performance also does little to define Ty’s character, his wide-eyed, slightly dopey expression provides minimal information about his internal life. This is in part due the film’s tendency to let Jones’ huge corporeal presence do the leg work in place of character development. Jones is a former NFL player and clearly an inexperienced actor, as a result his physicality is prioritised over his performance. In a film with a tendency to let the camera leer at its cast, no one is more objectified than Jones.

To his credit, Berkowitz tries to enliven some of the cliches of the boxing film. Clearly inspired by Danish film director Nicolas Winding Refn, he bathes the film in red light and incorporates a synth heavy score courtesy of Peter G Adams. But these attempts to gloss over the thin script only serve to give A Violent Man the feel of a film school undergraduate project. On the other hand, Issach De Bankolė’s performance as Ty’s trainer and surrogate father is an enjoyable update of the Mickey role in the Rocky franchise

A Violent Man is out on DVD on Monday, May 7th.

Jiří Brdečka: Master of Czech Animation

Being an animation obsessive, but not one with any great love for mainstream Hollywood, I’ve been looking forward to this event for some time. The former Czecholsavakia – today’s Czech republic – has a remarkable film heritage of animation of every conceivable type. Jiří Brdečka may not be one of that tradition’s best known names but his idiosyncratic and stylish films make getting to know his work a must. A couple of days ago, this excellent trailer for the event turned up on YouTube courtesy of the Czech Centre London which gives something of a flavour of the great man’s work. It promises to be a very special evening indeed.

A selection of Brdečka´s best animated shorts featuring among others a daring hymn to free thinking (Gallina Vogelbirdae; 1963 Grand Prix Winner at the Annecy International Animation Festival), a Gothic tale inspired by 17th Century woodcuts, a horrifying murder story reminiscent of Greek tragedy, a story of star-crossed love, and a touching miner´s ballad.

These films of immense poetic and artistic quality place Brdecka alongside Czech masters such as Jiří Trnka and Karel Zeman while reminding us that Disney is not the only model for telling stories through animation and that animation is not just for children.

Jiří Brdečka (1917 – 1982), script-writer and director, has directed 35 animated films, that have been awarded more than 40 international prizes, including the grand prizes at Annecy, Oberhausen, Montevideo and San Sebastian. A close collaborator with Jiří Trnka, Brdečka worked with the best artists (e.g. Kamil Lhoták, Eva Švankmajerová, Jiří Anderle, Zdeněk Seydl) and musicians (e.g. Zdeněk Liška, Jan Klusák) to deliver beatifully animated stories full of poetry and humour.

You can book for the event here and the press release for the evening is reproduced below. There will also be a Q&A with the writer and film critic Tereza Brdečková.

Skid Row Marathon

The films that tell how men with questionable pasts who turn to sport for redemption has been told from Rocky (John G Avildsen, 1976) to Moneyball (Bennett Miller, 2011), but this is a true story, one that documents the real ruined lives of those on screen and those who seek to change it. There is little of the beauteous Chariots of Fire (Hugh Hudson, 1981) glamour here. Instead, Skid Row Marathon follows five runners, running away from the streets of Los Angeles to run marathons globally. It’s arduous, but hopeful. And the participants feel the benefits, as Ben (who entered the Mission at 300 pounds, he admits) tells the camera during an opening interview segment “whatever is going through your head, go to the practice, things will happen”.

The film explores how these varying characters befriend each other, as scenes flicker from Judge Craig Mitchell congratulating Rafael on his parole (having spent nearly three decades incarcerated) and David, during an insightful talking heads moment, admits he once nearly gave up on everything before finding life through the tracks. It’s an insightful look at the human soul, soaring through times of sorrow.

The film is strong in its content. But it lacks directorial command and flair. There is a poor use of panning and editing, as scenes cut abruptly from one to another, carelessly juxtaposing a darkened city night with the pretty painted pictures of an art studio. It’s a leap that takes viewers out of the movie, a lack of style and technique is evident. Similarly, the music cues come across too strongly as a reggae track appears too loudly over a beach scene and fades as quickly as it entered.

But documentaries aren’t solely based on vision or technique, and the interviewees have some very strong moments of potency and poignancy. Rafael dictates to a class how remorseful he is at his past crimes (which have cost him virtually a lifetime in prison) and there’s a tenderness and brutal honesty to his words. As Mitchell injures his back while running, his agony is caught on camera, and it’s a raw, intoxicating watch of agony.

The continued motif of the members running is a fine motif, reminding how the pathway is a way of ridding demons both metaphorical and literal, and the characters are so likeable and engaging, audiences cannot but wish these people luck throughout their lives.

Skid Row Marathon was shown an exclusive, one night only, Event Cinema release on Wednesday May 9th (2018) in more than 100 selected multiplex and independent cinemas nationwide. The film was released in association with The Big Issue, Runners World, The Running Charity and Marathon Talk.

It’s available rto watch on Vimeo from June 2019 – just click here.

Walk With Me

Adopting observation both as subject and documentary approach, directors Marc J. Francis and Max Pugh offer a silent, meditative glimpse into monastic life in Plum Village, a Buddhist centre in the south of France founded by Zen Master Thich Nhat Hanh, and dedicated to the study of mindfulness.

Shot over the course of three years, Walk With Me, as its title suggests, invites the audience to take a walk with the otherwise secluded zen monks in the monastery, and even accompany them on their travels abroad. Narrated by the deep,serene voice of Benedict Cumberbatch and preoccupied not with events but rather their absence, the film resembles more a poem than a documentary. Historical context of Plum Village and its monks is scarce, if not completely missing, and the lack of any personal perspective could easily lead to estrangement.


But maybe this is the point. Having spent years detached from worldly longing and possessions, it seems quite unlikely that the monks would open up to deeply emotional confessions or private memories about their past. Thich Nhat Hanh’s notion of thoughtfulness teaches silence and presence, appreciation of the things that are and the art of letting go the things that are no more. Cinema is a medium ontologically fit to portray such state, as it is in its nature to capture nowness, the present moment in all its details. Slow editing helps to convey a philosophy similar to the study of thoughtfulness.

Walk With Me successfully delivers a few touching and intimate moments, despite mostly shunning the personal experience. A group of monks silently meditates in line, eyes closed, breath deep yet silent. One young man struggles to find comfort in the exercise – he yawns a few times, budges and twitches -, but he eventually find his way back to peace. The older monk in front of him find the action slightly disturbing. We also witness monks reuniting with their families for the first time after years of separation. In a very moving scene, a man recognises an old friend, whom he had previously thought dead.

Similar to Jon Nguyen’s David Lynch: The Art Life (2016) in its exploration of a subject completely disinterested in personal exposure, Walk With Me has no real narrative. Yet, as in the former, there is a level of deep intimacy shared in the spectators, coming not from subjective stories and action, but from the Buddhists’ willingness to communicate the ideas to which they have devoted their lives..

Walk With Me is out on DVD and VoD on Monday, April 30th.

Avengers: Infinity War

Movies have always been in the middle of a war between making money on the one hand and having something meaningful to say on the other. There is no doubt whatsoever that Avengers: Infinity War is at the top of its dirty game in taking money. This is the film where numerous characters from the Marvel Cinematic Universe (MCU) converge, some to die onscreen, some to fight in another movie. The Marvel movies are huge at the box office and as long as this one doesn’t screw up (which it doesn’t) it’s set to make a killing. Reviewers are already fawning and Disney’s money men will clearly be delighted.

Some basic, hopefully spoiler-free plot. Thanos (Josh Brolin) is a massive-bodied, intergalactic villain bent on randomly wiping out every other inhabitant of any world he can get his hands on starting, at the beginning of the film, with Asgard, home of Thor (Chris Hemsworth) and Loki (Tom Hiddleston). His purpose will be much easier to accomplish if he can obtain six ‘infinity stones’ – Loki has one, Dr.Strange (Benedict Cumberbatch) has another – as these will enable him to simply snap his fingers and obliterate half-populations. It’s up to the Avengers and a roughly thirty strong host of Marvel superheroes, including the Guardians Of The Galaxy, to stop him.

So far so good. But so much is piled into two and a half hours here that there isn’t enough time for the material which would really make the film get under your skin. For example, the romance between Iron Man/Tony Stark (Robert Downey Jr.) and his assistant Pepper Potts (Gwyneth Paltrow) is reduced to an early scene on earth and a later one where she is heard berating him over an audio comms link about going into battle and not coming home. There are lots of instances where one or two characters get a scene or two that you want to see developed but somehow it gets lost inside the bigger whole – Mantis (Pom Klementieff) and Star Lord/Peter Quinn (Chirs Pratt), Vision (Paul Bettany) and Wanda the Scarlety Witch (Elizabeth Olsen) – and there’s also the father and two daughters dynamic of Thanos, Gomora (Zoe Saldana) and Nebula (Karen Gillan). Good showbiz maxim: leave them wanting more. Trouble is, I’m not satisfied with what I’m being served here.

Then there are endless (well executed) fights between Thanos and assorted minions on the one hand and various Avengers or other good guys on the other. It may keep the fans happy, but it gets a little wearing after a while. Special effects, production design, cinematography, editing are all top notch but that does not in itself make a dirty movie. We need something more than groups of people in costumes flying through the farthest reaches of space and beating the crap out of one another on a series of planets with fancy names.

To be fair, after the commendable black bias of this year’s earlier Black Panther (title hero: Chadwick Boseman), that film’s characters crop up in the final third and are given a rather better airing than I would have expected: they feel like much more than a mere token black presence, which is to be commended. But even here, the sheer number of good guys – not to mention the villains and their massed armies – come at you so fast on the screen that it’s hard to feel any empathy for them. For the record, the film also includes the Hulk (Mark Ruffalo) and Spider-Man (Tom Holland).

Could the film have been otherwise given the sheer number of characters it crams in to its two and a half hours? In other hands perhaps it could. There are films out there like, to pick but one example, the thriller The Silence Of The Lambs (Jonathan Demme, 1991) which pack an extraordinary amount of plot and character into two or so hours. Here at the apex of the MCU, though, the franchise is the thing. You’ll have a wild time in the cinema but when the dust has settled, you may wonder where the gravitas was or what was the point beyond selling you the next set of Marvel movies. So really not very dirty at all.

There have been better Marvel movies – and better movies, period.

Avengers: Infinity War is out in the UK on Thursday, April 26th. Available on all major VoD platforms on Monday, August 20th.

The Wound

L iving in a world filled with very little, Xolani (Nakhane Touré) works in a Queenstown (in Eastern South Africa) warehouse for a white boss. Introduced during such labour, his social life is left as an aside from the filmmakers. Yet, away from his professional commitment, every year “X” ventures outside of the city to help his former rural community with a traditional circumcision – Ulwaluko. Placed in charge of nurturing young teenagers into men, he must tend to their titular wound during a long secluded period in the barren wilderness.

Responsible for healing a young city kid, Kwanda (Niza Jay), X’s deepest secret – his homosexuality – is slowly identified by the boy. Orientating in an age-old practice, the unavoidable primary focus of The Wound’s efforts lay in the depiction of masculine pious values. Besides this, one cannot look past its acute representation of not just homosexuality, but the pitfalls of loving someone too much.

A thin veneer susceptible to crumbling under pressure, the masculinity of Xolani, eloquently portrayed by Touré, is a fragile one. Expressed in absent glances into the distance, his own Ulwaluko evidently has not created a strong macho character, as intended by this patriarchal society. When arriving at the rural camp, he is greeted by an old friend and fellow khaukatha Vija (Bongile Mantsai). Married and with three children, Vija, like Xolani, hides his true self from the world. Two alternative sides of the same coin, the rural space allow their desires for one another to come to fruition. However, in director John Tregove’s crafted realism, a distinct lack of bucolic imagery arises in this link between desire and nature. Similarly, their relationship is nothing more than a form of exercising lust for Vija, unknowingly to Xolani.

Instead of romanticising their sexual encounters, Paul Ozgur’s camera and lighting initially capture their intercourse against the backdrop of low key lighting, until an explicit scene towards the film’s end. Unobtrusively filming these sequence with a clear eye, both the cinematographer and director retain a desirable presence, whilst exhibiting the vulnerability of Touré’s character. Imbuing a central dynamic between love and hiding his true self from the world allows director John Tregove’s feature debut to express the fundamental conflicting nature that inevitable lays in all humans; regardless of class or gender. Furthered not just through one’s sex but likewise in sexuality speaks to societies’ expectations to define gender into stereotypes.

Managing Kwanda’s slow healing, the boy is ridiculed by the more rural ‘initiates’ for his adoption of wearing trainers with traditional African robes. Covered in white paint, their innocence is emblazoned upon their skin. Possessing similar imagery to Rungano Nyoni’s Bifa award-winning debut, I Am Not a Witch (2017), the entrapments of highly patriarchal societies interlinks the two, making for a perfect double feature. Absent of any sensei-apprentice qualities, the relationship held between Kwanda and Xolani is an arduous one for both parties. A stark contrast to the authoritative ways of Vija, X does not place virile pressure on the boy. Voyeuristically observing other people’s action, Kwanda comes to recognise himself in Xolani’s shy reclusive personality.

Accompanying the visuals, the diegetic sounds of Xhosa chanting fill John Tregove’s film with a spiritual ambience. Performed by the cast whilst at the moment, tribe chants as Somagwaza, Uyingew and Siph’Umentabeni create a distinct soundscape. Such traditional songs are consequentially juxtaposed against Kwanda’s one moment of engagement with the real world; listening to a techno based track in a car. A clash of cultures in the music evidently informs the filmmaker’s intentions to illustrate an abundant disparity in Xolani’s sexuality against the heteronormative milieu.

Unfolding in its final act, as the bandages of Kwanda’s wound similarly do, The Wound’s lasting impact is one of melancholy. A means of all this, the haunting use of the formerly mentioned native chant Siph’Umentabeni unnervingly lingers over the credits. Capturing the character’s in an impartial manner, John Tregove delivers an atmospheric piece, one that is sure to become a canonical film in world cinema’s archive.

The Wound is out in cinemas across the UK on Friday, April 27th, and then on VoD the following Monday, April 30th

Beast

Living on a small island means that you are at least partly detached from the world. Such is the case in Beast, which takes place on the island of Jersey, which has just 100 km2 and 100,000 inhabitants. Life is extremely insular, and a single person can easily shake up what otherwise feels like a peaceful existence.

This is a major achievement for Michael Pearce, who’s just 37 years old and indeed born and brought up on said island. On his first feature film, he managed to craft an atmospheric, nostalgic and yet creepy story. Judging by the sepia tones, the somber colours, the old-fashioned garments, you’d think the action takes place in the 1960s. There are plenty of young people and yet no mobile phone are to be seen. The only clue that the story takes place in the present is in the diegetic indie and dance music that can be heard shortly in the background.

Moll (Jessie Buckley) is a shy and introverted tour guide. She looks like a young and ginger version on Nicole Kidman. She conveys a sense of vulnerability with an underlying strength and intelligence. Her gaze is stern, profound and piercing. But there is also something eerie about her, in the Lynchian sense. She self harms. During her birthday, she’s upstaged by her dolly sister Polly, who announces that she’s expecting twins and then pops open a bottle of bubbly. Moll feels like the black sheep. Plus she has a strange relationship with her formidable mother and her father (who suffers from early onset Alzheimer’s), and she harbours a sinister secret from the past. Buckley does an outstanding job. Moll is never a caricature; she’s a plausible character.

She eventually meets a young, blond, slender and blue-eyed outsider named Pascal (Johnny Flynn). He immediately becomes her venting outlet, the way out from an oppressive and joyless household. Their chemistry is as effervescent as the champagne Polly drank on her sister’s birthday. But he’s in the frame for a series of murders that have shaken the closely-knit community to the core. He also has a history of vandalism, dangerous driving, affray and even assaulting a minor, Moll is warned. They become infatuated with each other, and Moll’s darker side gradually begins to emerge. The story suddenly morphs from a fear-of-the-outsider into a bully-victim-becomes-oppressor narrative. Both young people have a taste for blood, and the story arc develops by emphasising the ambiguity of the two characters. Audiences are left wondering who’s the murderous one, or whether they both are equally disturbed.

The fact that the story takes place in Jersey is of course very relevant. Not just because it’s the director’s birthplace, but also where the “House of Horrors” investigation in the Haut de la Garenne former children’s home is takes place. Could it be that Moll also has a lot of skeletons in her closet (or basement)?

The film soundtrack is is creepy and pervasive yet subtle, never intrusive, adding the final touch of duality to the story. The twists of fate and personality of the two main characters will keep you spinning around like yarn, ultimately trying to answer the question: are these two young people birds of feather? You will have your answer in the end of the movie, albeit not in the format you might expect.

Beast is out on in cinemas across the UK on Friday, April 27th. It’s available on all major VoD platforms on Monday, August 20th.

Lean on Pete

Comparable to Andrea Arnold’s turn towards America’s impoverished class in the eloquent American Honey, British filmmaker Andrew Haigh follows a similar course of direction in his latest feature, Lean on Pete. Premiering at The Venice Film Festival and produced by the dexterous A24, Haigh’s newest offering is a sombre piece that absorbs you in its world, characters and harsh settings.

Adapted from Willy Vlautin’s 2010 novel, Charlie Plummer portrays a young teenager, Charley, who finds himself emotionally attached to Lean on Pete – an underdog racehorse owned by Del (Steve Buscemi). Opening with Magnus Nordenhof Jønck’s camera, the film’s initial shots are tight medium close-up of the boy on morning run. Consequentially, such a constant movement comes to hold thematic resonance, permeating nearly every scene throughout the narrative. Operating firstly in characterising the boy, the camera secondly serves as a location setting; interpolating one deeper into small town American humdrum existence.

At home the only parental figure present is his father Ray (Travis Fimmel). A manual labourer, the household lacks the structure that comes with a cohesive family life. Living well below the poverty line, Lean on Pete’s characters and vistas connect to Francois Truffaut’s seminal The 400 Blows (1959). Formed in a literary tradition such as the Bildungsroman – brought to prominence by modernist D.H. Lawrence’s A Portrait of an Artist as a Young Man – these two films equally propel their leads into the cruel adult world. Such a clash of innocence and experience is a profound encounter.

Alongside the masterful Truffaut, the sudden thrust of youthful virtue into a tainted world connects this feature to a contemporaneous source, Ira Sach’s Little Men (2016). Nevertheless, the director allows his follow up to 45 Years to interchange between neo-Western elements, social realist drama and a friendship story between a boy and an animal. Initially observing this plethora of themes as a miss-direction, with distance one comes to see some reverence in this multiplicity.

Escaping the mundaneness of his home life by gaining a summer job for Del – a shady horse owner – Charley becomes emotionally attached towards a particular horse, the titular Lean on Pete. Constantly worked into the ground, the horse scrapes and scuppers to the finish line in races. Given the opportunity, Del will sell him South to Mexico when failing to win a fair number of races.

Jockeyed by Bonnie (Chloë Sevigny), her later introduction brings new light into this duo’s relationship. The antithesis to Charley’s unforgiving naivety, she is experienced in the dubious methods used by Del to immorally win races. In the atmosphere of said event, the sweat and dust the swirl around in frame pours out, leaving one fully immersed in this crooked extortion. Upon winning his first race under the care of Charley, from the moment the horse steps onto the track, his fate is an investible one – regardless of any small victories. Clinging desperately onto these animals, one cannot help but feel pathos towards all those who are involved.

Though Lean on Pete is a melancholic immersive experience, comparable to the macabre atmosphere of Haigh’s previous features, his fourth feature lacks the profound threads that made 45 Years (2015) so stirring. Coming to an end with some form of peace, Charley’s story is bookended by the formative mentioned running. Deceptively playing with narrative tropes and audience expectations of The Black Stallion (Carroll Ballard, 1979) et al, Haigh’s style is as open as the highway’s in this world. It is an open road for the director’s next step…

Lean on Pete is out in cinemas on Friday, May 4th. It’s out on VoD the following week (2017). On BritBox on Wednesday, March 17th (2021).