Bicycle Thieves
Essentially the blueprint for the social
realism films that would become more and more popular after the Second
World War, the film focuses on the desperate attempts of Antonio to find a job
in 1948’s post-war Rome. His only means of getting one is his ownership of a
bicycle, which secures his employment putting up posters around the city, but
on his first day his bike is snatched and he fails to catch the thief. The next
day he sets out with some friends and his son Bruno on a journey that takes him
all over Rome.
The location shooting is very evocative in
a way that seems like it would be impossible to replicate these days, with
touches like the wise woman and the mob surrounding Antonio when he locates the
thief all feeling like local people rather than actors.
The ending is something of a gut punch, the
general good will towards Antonio and the mainly gentle nature of the film
(securing it a ‘U’ rating) lulling you into expecting a happy ending, but the
end serves as another signifier that this is a forerunner for the harsh social
realist movement to come.
Never Let Me Go
I’d heard that the big twist of the tale
hits right toward the end, only for the film to explain early on that the school of children
are being raised specifically as organ donors.
So, central character Kathy narrates the
story of the love triangle including herself, Ruth and Tommy, as they grow up
in their odd little 50s style private boarding school in the 70s, then in a little
cottage provided for them in the 80s and then onto the end of their adulthood
in the 90s.
The sets are evocative, the acting from all
three leads - Carey Mulligan, Keira Knightley and Andrew Garfield - is great,
and the film builds a convincing portrait of an alternate England where breeding/cloning (the
details aren’t specified) people to be used as organ donors for the sick is
agreed on in the 50s, a sort of skewed version of the NHS, and becomes a part of life, uncomfortable and unnerving for
some but in most respects normal. Few protests or outcrying, just a part of society
like vivisection or the meat industry.
Rather than focus on the administrational
or medical aspects as many dramas would, the whole film centers on the
character’s relationships and how they unfold, choices and mistakes made and
regrets lived with, albeit shortly.
Even the quietly horrific revelation that
the kids were the last of a humane experiment before the decision was made to
basically factory farm donors is delivered in the context of the impact on our
character’s relationship, and in this way the film feels a lot more realistic
and grounded than it may otherwise have done, were the story to focus on the
process rather than people.
On the other hand, the story of people
making the wrong choices in love with little time to make amends is a universal
one and no more affecting because of the organ doning aspect.
A decent film but not revelatory.
Little Big Soldier
Little Big Soldier is a breath of fresh air
after Jackie Chan’s later 90s/early 2000s career. The tail-end of his shallow
action comedies contained some awful duds, and this combined with his advancing
age no doubt led to the decision to pursue some meatier acting roles rather
than the usual action fests he’s known for, starting with New Police Story in
2004 and leading to films like the immigrant crime drama of 2009’s Shinjuku
Incident and 2011’s historical Chinese Revolutionary epic, 1911.
Little Big Soldier however manages to go
back to his action/comedy mid-career period with success.
Chan plays an old soldier in ancient China,
the sole survivor of a large battle besides an enemy general whom he captures,
with plans to return home for a reward of a peaceful farming life.
Obstacles on the path make for an eventful
journey as this slapstick filled buddy-ish comedy plays out, with Jackie a
likeable lead, more knowing than his usual bumbling apologists and less
arrogant than the cheeky fighting masters of his youth.
The ending scene makes for an odd tonal
shift which could easily be read as overwrought Cantonese sentiment, but really
is part of a whole that has slightly more to it than the usual crowd pleaser.
The Grapes of Wrath
Poor Tom Joad.
After release from prison on parole, after
the killing of a man at a dancehall in self-defence, Tom returns home to find
his family has moved on. In the Oklahoma of the Depression sharecropper
families are being turfed out by landlords to be replaced by tractors, and
everyone is travelling West in search of work and a new start.
Adapted from Steinbeck’s 1939 novel, Wrath
had a quick turnaround, released into cinemas in 1940.
There is a whiff of innocence to the film
that point to the wider audience this is perhaps intended for, though the anger
at the dire economic straits of the working man and his lot make for a stark
contrast against the hopeful musicals and upper-middle class worlds of the
screwball comedies of the time, without the cynicism of the noir crime features.
The laden, shambling trucks ferrying Midwesterners
to California, the hostility faced by the migrants and the idyllic nature of the government
camp are evocative of a situation hard to imagine now, indeed after the
relative success of the Second World War it’s easy to see how patriotism was
used by the authorities to quell socialist rumblings that rose up during the
Depression.
Oz the Great and Powerful
Sam Raimi by way of Tim Burton, this leans
more towards the CGI heavy Alice in Wonderland adaptation rather than the
family-friendly nightmare of Return to Oz, let alone the classic original film.
Franco plays a lying sleazebag small-time travelling circus conjurer, who while trying to escape a cuckolded strongman in a hot air
balloon is caught by a tornado and whisked off to Oz.
The wicked witch is making Oz suffer, but
the prophecy of a great wizard saving the day gives Oscar Diggs (Oz the Great
and Powerful) something to aspire to.
So off he goes on a journey to kill the
wicked witch, but learns about the value of friends along the way.
The effects are bland in all their
spectacle and the story feels like generic family fantasy, with lots of nods
and winks to the original film that help remind you how slight this feels in
comparison.
Black Pond
Black Pond, black comedy, though more a
comedy of manners than one for belly laughs.
Tom meets Blake whilst walking the dog. Though
odd, Tom finds him friendly enough and invites him home. His wife Sophie is
unnerved at first by the introduction of a stranger, though she warms to him
and soon he stays for dinner, and then for the night as he is afraid of the
dark.
The next day Blake’s off at dawn, and
before long Tom finds him in the woods, with the dog dead from drowning in the
Black Pond that is central to Blake’s story of a man losing his wife to
drowning.
Tom and Sophie’s two daughters Katie and
Jess live in London along with a friend, Tim, who is in unrequited love with
the both of them, and after the dog dies they come back home for an impromptu
funeral.
Mixed in with documentary type talking head
interviews retelling the fallout from the events of the film, as well as the odd
therapy sessions attended by Tim as he deals with the aftermath.
The film maintains an odd tone throughout,
with tension present but not unbearable, the comedy elements are gentle rather
than hysterical and the darker parts are sympathetic rather than ghoulish.
A
dream sequence in particular stands out as a fresh take on an age-old cinematic
trope, managing to try things in bold new ways whilst still being immediately
identifiable.Not entirely successful but a fresh look at that most English of comedies, that of the awkwardness and inhibition choking interpersonal relationships.
