Tag Archive: Films


Preview: Elle.

Elle, a 2016 French psychological thriller directed by Paul Verhoeven and starring Isabelle Huppert in a role for which she’s become a surprising front-runner for the Academy Award for Best Actress, has quickly become one of my most anticipated movies of the year. Unfortunately, as it’s not due for release in the UK until March 10th, I likely won’t be seeing it until after the Oscars have been handed out on February 26th. But based on what we know of this film thus far, it deserves the recognition it gets, and bearing in mind the subject in question, I’m still somewhat taken aback that it has gotten such attention in the first place.

The film’s central character, played by Huppert, is the female head of a video game company. Themes tackled include rape, violence and murder, involving Huppert’s character whether directly or indirectly, which seem interesting if only for the reason that these are themes associated negatively with the video game industry in recent years. This is no coincidence I’m sure, and I’m intrigued to find out just how Elle tackles these issues – that, for me, will make or break the film, as I have my own strong feelings on the matter.

I’m making an educated guess that the movie tackles them intelligently and maturely, hence my eagerness to see it. Whatever the case may be, Elle promises to be a thought-provoking film for UK audiences to look forward to. No doubt you’ll be hearing more about this one in the weeks to come.

I’m one of those people who needs to write. I’d go so far as to say my health – perhaps my very survival – depends on it. That isn’t me trying to sound melodramatic.

No, I, like many other writers, consider writing not simply a hobby or a method of making money, though it can and does fit easily into those categories. When I say I’m a writer, I’m saying it is as important an activity as eating or sleeping; to go without it for too long leads to moodiness and agitation.

Naturally with writing, one also ends up reading. To write means to record ideas on paper, and one can’t do that unless you’ve first gathered inspiration to form ideas worth recording. Ideas, information and knowledge are things I’ve treasured along with writing from a young age. In more recent years I’ve also become passionate about the importance of establishing the difference between ‘opinion’ and ‘fact’, whether historical or current, and the methods by which we go about establishing said distinction. Do you believe stuff based on evidence? What, in your mind, constitutes evidence? Hint: it isn’t always what people try to say it is.

To think about this is, I think, especially vital in the age of the Internet, where we’re exposed at ease to many opinions often presenting themselves as fact, and vice versa. Unless you want to believe everything, or nothing, or just stick to the inherent bias you grew up with, then you had better develop an eye for what constitutes evidence and a good argument. There’s a lot of bullshit out there, but that’s not to say I don’t value the Internet extremely highly; it has led to my generation becoming arguably the most open-minded of any generation before us. Growing up with so many easily accessible ideas around us has, in general, been healthy.

I find it hard being around people who do not care about these things, who may accept ‘truths’ just based on bias rather than applying critical thought; I find it offensive, and insulting, to see and hear that kind of thing in my presence. I’m not easily offended but this, you could say, is one of my ‘triggers’. Journalistic integrity and freedom of speech are two of the absolute pillars of a free-thinking society, while censorship lies at the opposing end of the spectrum (to be clear, by censorship I do not mean age ratings on products like movies and video games, which are often helpful and entirely necessary).

In my mind the acts of writing and critical thinking go hand in hand, though I know this is not the case for everyone – as I have read plenty in which it was clear the writer was not a critical thinker. Nor must one be particularly intelligent to write a lot, though to be a good writer (volume written doesn’t necessarily correlate with quality content) requires knowledge, not only of your craft but of the world around you.

Naturally then, the best writers also tend to be among the smartest, though it would depend on your point of view pertaining to how we should judge this kind of thing. Do we judge a writer by how clear and concise their style, or by how much knowledge they communicate through it? I suppose the best of them have both qualities. I certainly like to strive for both.

I grew up in a relatively ‘free’ family environment, with parents who weren’t overly strict and didn’t force any particularly weird rules upon me. It was an environment in which I was free to play video games, watch films, and read books without having to worry about which ones were ‘banned’, though at the same time neither of my parents were especially interested in those things and did not therefore instil any inherent bias for or against either. Each medium played their part in helping me grow up relatively open-minded and with an understanding that the world was bigger than my own little bubble.

To an extent, I do consider an open mind to be a privilege; one that many other people who grow up in different family environments aren’t encouraged to have (not that I was particularly encouraged towards it, but it wasn’t heavily discouraged either). Would I really have had the same learning opportunities, the same privilege of experiencing different sides to the world at an age where my mind had not yet grown hardened to them, had I grown up in a strict religious family for example? Likely not.

I find it a great shame when parents take it upon themselves to mould their children into who they want them to be (“for their own good!”), rather than allowing that child the space to discover themselves as an individual. This doesn’t just happen within fundamentally religious families either, and it isn’t always obvious. But as the subject of religion is a sore point for many, including to an extent myself (which I will explain a little further on), let’s stick on it for a moment.

Looking across the history of Western civilisation, our society and culture in the UK, US and Europe have been moulded by Christianity to the point where people have grown up believing – often subconsciously, before coming to ‘know Christ’ and being ‘born again’ later – in God, particularly the version of him portrayed in the Bible. Horror movies and literature in the West often portray demons or the devil himself as the source of all evil. In a court of law, people must place their hands on the Bible in some vague appeal to their conscience; a reminder that God is watching and they’ll be somehow punished for not telling the truth in front of Him.

Not that I want to get too deep into that issue here; what I’d rather do is illustrate how our ability to be open-minded about stuff can be inhibited simply through the culture or environment in which we grow up. If you grew up in the UK like me, you’ll be familiar with our inherently Christian culture. The US is similar, if not worse when it pertains to a Christianised culture, though the secular/ religious divide is arguably more extreme (or at least, more vocal) there as well. The UK, while moderately liberal, is also less willing to voice concerns over things like our monarchy, when we really should.

Now, I think it’s fine for people to acknowledge they’re not ‘open-minded’ about certain things, so long as they are aware of it. PC culture would dictate that we need to be respectful of everything, to the tiniest detail, but we’re all inherently different to begin with and naturally aren’t all going to see things in the same light. Some people don’t like swearing, others do. Some of us like eating meat, others don’t. People on either side, or somewhere in the middle, should be able to live how they want. Don’t rely on the approval of others for that. Equally, don’t expect everyone to be fully accepting of it.

Each of us have our inherent biases; open-mindedness is being able to recognise that bias and acknowledge there are people who’ll be coming from a different point of view. So long as that point of view doesn’t cause or advocate harm to others – which, again, is where religion can pose a bit of a problem – there’s no reason we can’t all respect each other as fellow humans while acknowledging our differences and not getting offended over stupid shit.

My own bias plays in to how I’m writing this article. Why is it, for example, that I feel the need to say swearing is okay, when really most people don’t need to be told that to do it anyway? Or why I focus on the importance of respecting points of view other than your own? Well, it comes back, again, to religion, more specifically Christianity; a religion that did not dictate too harshly how I should live my life growing up, but did at least subtly hold me back from fully expressing myself. Looking back on it, and seeing the effect it has on others as well, it’s clear this is what it does.

The unique thing about Christianity – at least, the Protestant side of which I have direct experience – is that it does not say you must obey its rules, and yet you kind of do, because if you don’t, it means you don’t really love Jesus and will go to hell anyway. A little slip-up is okay, but you must live the correct lifestyle consistently if you’re a ‘proper’ Christian. And boy, being told you’re “not a true Christian” is regarded as the highest form of insult. It’s something they’ll use against me, to discredit my own experiences, because in their eyes only someone who was “never a true Christian” could ever wish to turn away from it.

In many cases, Christians will use that one line as an all-encompassing excuse not to truly engage with issues raised by those who disagree with them. In fact, in my years of being around Christians, I can say in hindsight that many of those relationships, in the interest of ‘accountability’, involve carefully examining each other to determine whether one is a ‘proper Christian’, and each will make their determination, whether privately or publicly, about whether someone else is.

Christianity is supposedly about choosing to do the right thing through your own free will. But free will, of course, only goes as far as our inherent bias lets it – and this religion knows that all too well. It teaches the ultimate form of bias – that when we get to heaven, we’ll want to obey God without question, out of free will, because that will be our inherent nature. For now, on earth, we must deal with our ‘sinful’ nature, which wants to do bad things against God.

I’ll continue on that diatribe another time – there is so much more to say – but for now rest assured I’ve managed, though it has taken a lot of work, plenty of inner conflict, self-justification and thorough research, to largely let go of the hold Christianity had over me growing up and even up until a couple of years ago. Which isn’t to say, of course, that I have anything against Christians as people, though they can’t seem to help but take it personally (and I suppose one can’t blame them, if they believe with honest conviction) when others tell them they think their religion isn’t true.

The single biggest factor in breaking free from the confines of certain aspects of a religion, or anything else, relies on someone being open-minded enough in the first place to even consider whether they might be wrong. Of course I’m not saying that one necessarily leads on to the other (plenty of open-minded Christians have helped carry it out of the dark ages – while many conservatives/ traditionalists/ fundamentalists would claim that’s precisely the problem), but it’s certainly rare for anyone to leave their religion unless they’re open-minded enough to consider something other than what they’ve been conditioned to believe is true. They could, having considered everything else, still settle on Christianity being the truth, and I wouldn’t begrudge them that; it’s their prerogative to believe what they want, just as it is mine.

But if you consider it impossible for yourself to be wrong about something as ‘big’, as important as this, then you’re going to see opposing viewpoints through that specific lens. And naturally you’re going to shut yourself off from learning specifically why people might hold different points of view, because in your mind, in your version of reality, they’re already wrong and you – say, through the Bible – already have all the answers you’ll ever need.

Or maybe it’s more that, deep down, you’re terrified of realising you were wrong, having to admit it to others, and the damaged relationships that would inevitably result from that. I can understand that concern. I’ve seen it before, in people who stick with the Christian lifestyle not because they passionately believe in it, but because they perceive it to be simpler than the alternative, especially if they have a family of their own or friends who look up to them for spiritual support. The amount of Christian pastors hiding this kind of secret – feeling the weight of responsibility to ‘lead the flock’ and fear of letting them down – would shock the everyday church-goer.

I have realised I may need to pad what I say a little here, for those who may not know the full context surrounding my current opinions. First, if it seems I am overly negative towards Christianity, now or at any point to come, this is not necessarily an attack on its principles or even on the faith itself. Many Christians I’ve known are the liberal type who do not adhere strictly to everything the Bible says, or take what it says literally in the face of all scientific evidence to the contrary. Those people are Christian simply because the lifestyle makes most sense to them, and that’s fine.

However, let’s bear in mind what I said about bias. I am a UK citizen, yes, but more than that: I was born and lived in Belfast, Northern Ireland up to the age of 18, at which point I moved over to England for university.

Now, I’m going to assume any potential readers won’t quite realise the significance of that, so I’ll divulge some more. In Northern Ireland, as most people will know, we have a bit of a history of conflict; a kind of Irish ‘civil war’ as such, originating from when Ireland joined the UK a few centuries ago largely against the will of the Irish people. Long story short, back in 1922 the Irish Free State was formed as Ireland won some measure of independence from Britain (though they still had to abide by an ‘oath of allegiance’ to the UK until achieving full independence via a referendum in 1937).

At the same time, the predominantly unionist (that is; loyal to the union of the United Kingdom) six counties of Northern Ireland decided they wanted no part of Irish independence from the crown, and this country itself was technically formed in 1922 as well. Republicans (that is; those who are committed to seeing a fully independent Irish republic) have always held issue with this, just as unionists held issue with southern Ireland trying to take what they saw as their British identity. Even today, Northern Ireland sits in a unique position, in which its residents can claim to be Irish or British and neither would be lying; we are, after all, entitled to dual citizenship from birth should we so wish to claim it.

A large part of the origins of that conflict between Ireland and the UK was this: Ireland was largely a Catholic country, whereas the UK, at that time in the 1700s and continuing since, was protestant. So while technically you could say that means they were both ‘Christian’, no. Trust me, growing up in Northern Ireland it’s impossible to see ‘Protestant’ and ‘Catholic’ as equally Christian. You’re either on one side or the other, and our version of ‘peace’ is tolerating the other side while those old grievances still reside in the back of our minds.

For me growing up in a predominantly Protestant area, I naturally also grew up with that bias. But now, at this stage of my life, I see it all for what it is. Some others of my generation – usually those who have not ventured outside Northern Ireland to live for any sustained amount of time – still hold that strong sense of bias, and probably always will, as I firmly believe it becomes harder and harder to let go of built-in beliefs the older you get. None of us want to feel we wasted years of our lives being wrong about something after all, so as time goes on we’re more likely to make excuses to ourselves that help us keep believing it, partly also for the pride of being known as someone who ‘sticks to their convictions’ rather than someone who ‘flip flops around changing their mind’.

The elephant in the room when it comes to religion and conflict in Ireland, of course, is the claim I made to myself and others for many years: that the violence perpetuated in the name of God was committed by those who “weren’t truly Christian”. This is like what I said before; Christians justifying actions they don’t like by those who seemingly share their faith by simply disregarding it as “not the God I believe in”. If other believers aren’t acting the way you think they should, just keep yourself happy by saying they’re not ‘proper Christians’ and move on, free of any guilt and/or responsibility on the part of your own personal faith in God. Something similar is happening on a more global scale with Islam currently, but I won’t be touching that hot topic here.

Obviously we shouldn’t paint everyone with the same broad brush. We’re individuals, and we’re human, which means we all have different tendencies. Some of us gravitate more naturally to violence, though again there are environmental factors influencing that. Still, it’s undeniable: the Irish ‘troubles’ have their origin firmly rooted not just in patriotism but in the religion that goes hand in hand with it.

Christians on the outside looking in may try to justify their own belief in the loving nature of God by claiming they don’t represent him, but that’s precisely why they were fighting. Unionists would resist Irish rule “for God and country”. In their place would you not do the same to defend your own deeply rooted convictions/ beliefs? The men on the ground, murdering each other for a higher cause, were doing it because they believed it was God’s will in both cases, on either side – and it would not have been uncommon to see those same men in church on a Sunday morning, having taken part in terrorist acts during the week and planning more for the week to come.

All of this leads up to where Northern Ireland stands today. Belfast itself is an impressively modern city, attracting tourists from around the world and parts of it, particularly the city centre, looking a world away from the depressingly grey colours associated with the 1970s. I truly enjoy being back for the most part.

But it’s not all great. Our government serves as a stark reminder of our recent history, not only in its finely balanced unionist/republican divide (to get into the intricacies of it would be too complicated a matter to delve into here) but in the hold that religion has over us. Gay marriage is still illegal and our majority party, the DUP, have vowed to continue blocking it (while consensual gay sex was only decriminalised in 1982). Abortion is only legal under extremely strict criteria, and Northern Irish women often need to travel to England for private treatment to carry one out. Bars and clubs are forbidden from serving alcohol before 11.30am (whereas in England you can grab a beer from 7am in Weatherspoon’s if you feel so inclined).

Whether you feel strongly about the above issues or not, it’s indisputable that Northern Ireland feels a little left behind, even when compared to other regions within the United Kingdom. Of course, we have enough conservative Christian unionists living here that our population is generally happy with things as they are, as they see it as sticking to the rules set out in holy scripture. For me, I feel almost embarrassed by this stuff, and can’t see myself ever coming back to live long-term in Belfast unless certain things change.

Living in England introduced me to many Christians who were more open-minded than the kind of Christianity I’d always known in my homeland. And well, I’ve simply carried on from there, never really wanting to stand still, always keen to learn more. I don’t feel any blind loyalty to one way of thinking, and I don’t consider myself a nationalist in any sense of the word.

There’s one other element that went into all of this that can’t be discarded; in fact it may be the most important one of all. I mentioned earlier, near the beginning, how films and video games had been an important part of my childhood. One can’t be truly passionate about either of these mediums without encountering other cultures in the process. Two of my favourite video games, for example, are the survival horror game Silent Hill and its classic sequel on the PS2 (both developed in Japan), which first introduced me to the subtle elements of atmospheric horror unique to Asia.

Around that time, J-horror was also starting to take the film industry by storm, with Hideo Nakata’s Ringu inspiring a 2002 Hollywood remake starring Naomi Watts. That ended up being rather short-lived, with Ju-On: The Grudge (2003) and its 2004 American remake coming along at the tail end of it, but it can be attributed to sparking my interest in Japanese cinema and, more broadly, Asian culture. Why is this significant? Well, naturally, the more you see of the world, the less you feel you lie at the centre of it. Perhaps something I read recently can help sum it up; “A stolid attachment to a monolithic set of institutional forms becomes much more difficult when one is constantly faced with the beliefs and disbeliefs of many other traditions” (from Ghosts and the Japanese, Michiko Iwasaka and Barre Toelken, introduction).

This, I believe, is why many Christians steadfastly refuse to openly engage with other ways of thinking; deep down they know it could lead to them questioning themselves and ultimately ‘losing face’ should they begin to doubt their own faith. So they build caricatures and stereotypes of other worldviews and belief systems, because that makes it easier for them to paint themselves as the ‘enlightened few’ who have the One truth. Martin Scorsese’s recent film Silence summed up the inherent cultural differences and conflicts between East and West quite succinctly I think.

Sure, Christians may go on ‘missions’ with a view to ‘evangelising’ to those caught up in cultures they see as less enlightened, but they do not truly engage with the existing culture they meet when they get there, aside from the actions one must take so as not to appear awkward – such as taking your shoes off at the door when entering a home in Japan, for example. Even at the peak of my faith I could not help but feel a little awkward and uncomfortable at the idea of ‘mission’ to spread the gospel to those we see as less fortunate than ourselves. They’d return talking about how they ‘learned so much’… but I wonder how much they did learn, really?

I wanted to set this context so that anyone reading may understand my point of view a little better. I’m not saying others who were to go on a similar journey to myself would come to the same conclusions. I know some may read what I say about religion or Christianity and say “well, that’s not my experience”, and that’s cool. This is just me. Find your own way, but don’t let that way be dictated by blind loyalty, dodgy reasoning or a fear of changing your mind. Who knows… letting go of those things may help open the doors to something new.

Moonlight.

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On paper, Moonlight is a film that faced an uphill battle from the start. This film, perhaps more than any other this year, breaks conventions, and not just for the sake of doing so, but in order to tell its story. That story, and the tiny cast of characters we meet along the way, have helped Moonlight deservedly become one of the favourites for February’s Best Picture race at the Oscars on a relatively small $5 million budget and reportedly tight shooting schedule.

In reality, Moonlight is made a success precisely because it didn’t face an uphill battle when it came to its production crew. Director Barry Jenkins and his small, exclusively black cast give their all to tell a story often left untold in media and literature; that of a young black man, growing up in a rough neighborhood with an addict for a mother and surrounded by drug dealers, who discovers he’s gay. The latter part of that premise is what’s new here, but the rest of it shouldn’t be disregarded – this doesn’t come across as a heavy-handed social justice movie. On the contrary, its themes and ideas are there to complement its story, rather than force an agenda down your throat.

Central to this character-driven plot is Chiron, played over the course of the film by three different actors (Alex Hibbert, Ashton Sanders and Trevante Rhodes) as the story is split into three acts spanning childhood, adolescence and adulthood. Naomie Harris, brilliant as ever, plays his drug-addicted mother in a role for which she deserves recognition in Best Actress categories during awards season, while Mahershala Ali gives a similarly outstanding performance as crack dealer Juan, who becomes a father figure to Chiron in the first act.

One of the things I loved about this film was that it takes an issue often associated with ‘social justice’ and ‘political correctness’ – homosexuality – and puts it in an environment where those terms are alien; a community where common slang still involves words like faggot being thrown around liberally. In Moonlight the issue of homosexuality is real; it’s an intrinsic part of Chiron’s life, yet one he struggles to comprehend and doesn’t feel able to engage with openly or inwardly. It’s a world away from Facebook and Twitter, where everyone is bravely typing behind their computer screens, telling people they don’t know what they can or can’t say. For me, only through a film like Moonlight, which portrays the harsh realities that kids in certain communities face growing up, can an issue like this truly be engaged with in a helpful manner.

Anyone concerned about having to sit through uncomfortable sex scenes needn’t worry – this is certainly no Blue is the Warmest Colour. Essentially it’s a story about what’s left undone, what’s left unsaid in Chiron’s life; he himself is clearly an introvert who struggles to articulate his feelings at the best of times, having grown up without a father, and a mother who, when she wasn’t taking drugs, spent her time prostituting herself in order to pay for them. There is little here to offend anyone who appreciates good storytelling within its contextual setting.

Should Moonlight steal a few headlines in the early months of next year during awards season, there may be some who’ll try to claim it’s merely a reaction to last year’s “whitewashing” controversy, with its exclusively black cast. I hope I have communicated here that to do so would be a disservice to this film. It’s one of my favourite movies of the year, and the acting is some of the best I’ve seen this year. Whatever Moonlight wins in February, it has earned on merit – not because of some online social justice movement.

10 / 10

Tokyo Godfathers.

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“Being able to speak freely… is the lifeblood of love.”

If I could pick a single quote from Tokyo Godfathers – a 2003 Japanese anime set during the Christmas season – that best sums up its plot and central themes, it would be the one above. It helped to instantly shoot this film up to rank as one of my favourite Christmas movies when I watched it at a screening a few days ago.

One must understand that while this film shares the same heart as many seasonal favourites – displaying love, friendship and family – it is not one that feels it must pander to PC culture in order to portray its message. As a result it’s likely to offend anyone who prefers to spend Christmas pretending the world is lovely and inoffensive, who perhaps is happiest surrounded by people who agree with them and tell them how right they are about everything. One of the main characters is a man who identifies as a woman; who is casually and persistently called ‘faggot’ by a close friend, the second of the three characters around whom this film revolves.

They are homeless, and we’re first introduced to them at a carol service, which they’re attending merely to get the hot food on offer after the sermon. Soon afterwards they encounter an abandoned child, and the plot following on from this involves the three misfits attempting to care for the baby while finding its way home.

Each of the three – Hana, Gin and runaway girl Miyuki – have had family troubles that led to their current predicaments; over the course of the story these are revealed partly via flashbacks, alongside a series of coincidences (yes, merely pleasant coincidences) through which they are eventually offered redemption.

Strewn throughout the narrative is this sense of how important it is to communicate freely with those closest to us; and how feeling unable to do that can lead to an eventual breakdown in the relationship. This includes, of course, being able to speak freely with each other even when the end result is offence. The message resonated with me personally, and one can’t accuse it of lacking the heart I mentioned before; the idea of a strong family unit is absolutely at the centre of this movie, though it is portrayed in an unconventional manner. These three homeless characters, along with the baby they are forced into caring for, are, in their own way, a dysfunctional yet strangely lovable family.

The animation is also beautiful, with a snow-filled environment helping the film fit right in with the Christmas season. I won’t claim this is a movie for everyone – but for those who find themselves growing tired and cynical of the same sentimental, inoffensive films showing during this time of year, you may find it beyond refreshing. Otherwise, it deserves consideration among the absolute best Christmas movies to have been released in recent years.

10 / 10

Preview: The Wailing.

It’s been a long time since Western audiences were treated to a genuinely unsettling Asian horror movie – a quality many films from that region shared in the early 2000’s.

Korean film The Wailing looks like it could be the new one to watch out for. I will be attending a screening on the 30th December, and it is in fact one of my most anticipated of the year; mainly for the reason mentioned above. I have a great appreciation of Asian cinema, but truly top quality Asian film releases have felt few and far between over the past few years.

The plot revolves around an investigation into a series of mysterious killings and illnesses. Japanese-Korean tensions are hinted at, and the overall run-time stands at a glorious 156 minutes (while that may put some viewers off, for me a longer film suits this genre).

If you miss it – or have already missed it – on the big screen, you won’t have long to wait to check it out. The Wailing will be available in the UK on DVD January 30th.

Paterson.

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Paterson is quite simply a film about the day-to-day life of a working man, and the normal everyday trials – from walking the dog to mild disagreements with the wife – that the average working class man goes through. No more, no less.

Adam Driver plays the title character, who drives a blue bus around the small American town of Paterson. In his spare time he likes writing poetry; not particularly good poetry, but one can admire the quiet passion he pours into it. His wife is also an artistic type with dreams of being a fashion designer; again, she has little talent, yet unlike her husband, who keeps his feet firmly on the ground, her head often appears to be in the clouds. You can tell he loves her, though. Most evenings he enjoys walking his dog down the road towards the local pub, where he ties her up outside, while he goes in for a beer.

This is Paterson, the latest directorial effort from Jim Jarmusch following Only Lovers Left Alive (2013). And while all that may sound rather dull and monotonous to some, it turned out to be one of my favourite films of the year.

There’s something undeniably comforting about watching this movie from the comfort of a cinema seat. Whether it’ll retain that same sense of easy comfort from a seat in one’s front room while watching on a smaller screen remains to be seen – but I’d wager the experience won’t be too different. Driver inhabits the role of Paterson (who, yes, shares his name with the small town in which he lives and works) with such ease, instantly bringing the audience alongside him to share in his humble life experiences. I dare you not to like him, and grow to enjoy spending time with this character as if he were a close friend.

Iranian actress Golshifteh Farahani plays his wife Laura, who brings a similarly likable if somewhat quirky quality to the film. Of course, one can’t talk about Paterson’s cast without also mentioning arguably its star player, Nellie, who plays the couple’s dog and won the Palm Dog Award for best canine performance at Cannes earlier this year.

My favourite scene involves a conversation Paterson has with an unnamed Asian man (played by Masatoshi Nagase) on a park bench towards the film’s conclusion; this serves as the closest thing this movie has to a payoff, following the closest thing it has to a crisis point in the story. Needless to say, neither are pulse-inducing by modern cinematic standards. But, particularly in this day and age, Paterson feels like that rare breed of film everyone could do with seeing a little more of.

9 / 10

Your Name.

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Your Name is one of those films that I feel deserves a bigger international audience than it will get (being a feature-length Japanese ‘anime’). Within a genre known for its rather fantastical concepts, this film still manages to stand out.

One might think a Japanese animated movie – the hand-drawn animation here is gorgeous – in the vein of Your Name would inevitably struggle to reach a wide audience… This isn’t necessarily true, especially in its native homeland, but admittedly there are story elements and themes at work here that anyone who isn’t accustomed to the genre may struggle to take seriously.

It involves Mitsuha and Taki, a pair of teenagers, one of whom lives in the centre of Tokyo and the other in a small village on the outskirts, waking up one morning and realising they’ve… well, kind of switched bodies. Cue a number of entertaining scenarios, including Taki’s typically teenage boy fascination with the breasts he discovers on Mitsuha’s body.

As weird and even slightly creepy as it may sound, this fits right in with the crazy world of anime. It’s not all lighthearted and cheesy either; there are points in the story that are serious and emotional. Your Name, essentially, is an unconventional romance, one that feels like such a breath of fresh air in the face of the usual fare offered by mainstream cinema. Taki and Mitsuha find themselves becoming attached to each other’s lifestyles to the point that when their switching suddenly stops, they grieve for its loss. The film then changes tone again as Taki becomes determined to find the girl with whom he had been inexplicably switching for weeks, only to discover towards the final third of the story that they have a chance to prevent catastrophe in an approaching natural disaster.

Yes, the whole thing is a little flustered, but the building tension in the film’s climactic scenes feels more real than in most other movies released this year. As a result, this is one of the year’s best, and certainly a strong contender for 2016’s best animated film. Director Makoto Shinkai also wrote the novel from which he adapted the screenplay for this film; uniquely novel and film were released within two months of each other in Japan earlier this year (the novel in June; this film in August).

Naturally one should approach the film taking into consideration their own feelings on anime. While I wouldn’t call myself the biggest ‘fan’ (a term I dislike at the best of times), I’m certainly open to enjoying it. In this case Your Name’s animation is beautifully drawn (it’s one of the most beautiful movies of the year), and the plot is also one of this year’s most original. Definitely worth checking out on Blu-ray if you missed its recent limited run in UK cinemas.

9 / 10

I, Daniel Blake.

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That a film like I, Daniel Blake won the Palme d’Or at Cannes in a year when radical politics has risen to challenge the establishment is significant. There are those who would try to disregard its bleak vision of a man beaten down by an illogical, unfair and even inhumane system as being ‘unrealistic’, but these are the same people who have never been in the position of this film’s central character. Any of us who have ever had to visit a job centre in the UK will have empathy with Daniel Blake.

I find the state of the welfare system in the UK to be a great irony. Originally set up as a noble cause, to provide for those in a vulnerable position, whether currently looking for work or unable to do so, it has become something quite different. A system, under the Conservative government especially, that assumes everyone using it is some kind of scrounger exploiting those of us who are ‘hard working’.

Therefore it now operates under a set of guidelines, checks and balances that take away the human aspect. Claimants sit at a desk where they are interrogated and, if the exact answers are not provided, if everything is not done strictly by the book, they risk losing everything. The reason we often hear to justify this is that the government wants to “encourage people to find work”, and seemingly their way of doing this is to make life as difficult and uncomfortable as possible for those who don’t have a job. As if not having a job somehow amounts to living a dream that everyone who works is missing out on. The reality for most of us, of course, is precisely the opposite. As humans, work is the bread and butter that gives our life meaning; most of us not only want to work, but like to work, and those who don’t fit that bracket are, in actual fact, few and far between – yet it is that minority who are often cited as reasons to punish the majority. It is they who get the headlines in tabloid press.

I, Daniel Blake showcases this questionable system in a simple but powerful and poignant way. It is, in similar (if less dramatic) fashion to Son of Saul, a film that transcends its medium. To give some kind of rating for its ‘entertainment’ value almost feels beside the point, though it does still somehow manage to entertain.

Dave Johns, a stand-up comedian when he’s not acting, plays the title character. His performance ensures, despite the somewhat depressing subject matter, that we ourselves never feel down while watching the absurdity unfold. There is an empathetic quality to the character that’ll put a smile on your face as he deals with the hand he’s been dealt. Such is the connection formed with him over the course of the film that it’s absurd to think anyone could accuse this of feeling unrealistic, even if they do point out that it’s fiction, which it is only in the strictest sense. Daniel Blake may not be a real person, but there are a lot of real people who feel that they are Daniel Blake.

Some may feel put off by director Ken Loach and his heavy-handed approach to social issues, but I can’t stress enough just how important this film feels at such a time as this. The winds of change are blowing in politics right now and I, Daniel Blake raises an issue that could be part of that change. It would require some to swallow their pride and admit this isn’t simply a “work of fiction”, but the message will at some point be taken heed of. If there’s one film this year that I’d encourage everyone – regardless of personal taste – to support above all others, it would (probably) be this one.

10 / 10

The original Godzilla, released in Japan in 1954 and rich in thematic influences from the atomic bomb that ended the Second World War, is one of my favourite films; one I can still enjoy today despite its humble special effects. So it should come as no surprise that this is one of my most anticipated movies right now.

Shin Godzilla was released in Japan back in July, and had a limited theatrical run in North America as Godzilla Resurgence. Unfortunately there’s no word on a UK/ European release yet, and as of writing it doesn’t look like there’s going to be any time soon. But I am hopeful we’ll be seeing this film on the big screen over here at some point in 2017. An imported DVD/ Blu-ray copy would be a poor substitute.

In the trailer below you can decipher Godzilla’s iconic roar, almost unchanged from the 1954 original, and a similarly refreshing vintage soundtrack that feels reminiscent of the old monster movies from Godzilla’s peak years. His design, as well, returns somewhat to the roots of the franchise (now 31 films old, including this one), though this is apparently the largest version of the creature yet.

I can’t wait for some kaiju action when Godzilla eventually finds his way to these shores again – hopefully someone at Toho gets the message.

 

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Granted, this piece is almost a month late – in fact I think it’s almost one month to the day when I started writing it – but it’s been a pretty busy time for me lately.

This year’s BFI London Film Festival was one of the biggest and best ever. Here I’ll be offering an overview of my favourite movies from my time there, though if you want to read a little more about the festival itself and see the full selection, head over to the BFI website.

London Film Festival has typically tended to be a good barometer of the year’s best films and 2016 has been no exception – a number of the films screened will be deservedly gracing numerous end of year lists, and it also showcases the main contenders for awards season next January and February. Unfortunately though I wasn’t able to see all of them; this isn’t my full time job after all. What I’m going to give you here are 15 films I think deserve special mention out of the selection of screenings I was able to attend while there.

Screenings that I missed and are therefore not featured here, but films that will inevitably feature in awards season, included: Damien Chazelle’s La La Land (expected in the UK early next year), Tom Ford’s Nocturnal Animals starring Jake Gyllenhaal and Amy Adams (which I have since seen and will review separately), Amma Asante’s A United Kingdom with David Oyelowo and Rosamund Pike (opening night gala), and Ben Wheatley’s Free Fire (Brie Larson looks excellent in it and will be a Best Supporting Actress nominee for sure – closing night gala).

So, not including the above four, here are 15 of the best from this year’s BFI London Film Festival:

15. Le Mechanique de L’Ombre (Scribe)

A French espionage thriller that takes the genre in an unexpected direction, feeling fresh and original because of it. The story of Monsieur Duval, a depressive alcoholic with little else to distinguish him from the average middle class office clerk, who loses his job and is forced to take on work transcribing secret telephone conversations on behalf of a shady employer. When he seemingly overhears a murder on one of the conversations, Duval finds himself getting sucked deeper into a mysterious plot despite his unassuming nature… This one likely won’t be getting much of a wide release in the UK, but it’s worth checking out on DVD or Blu-ray. I won’t claim Scribe is anything spectacular, but it’s one of the more entertaining thrillers I’ve watched in recent times.

14. Magnus

A cool, crisp documentary on the life and sharp rise of Norwegian chess prodigy and current chess world champion Magnus Carlsen; as a big fan of the game and of Carlsen’s unpredictable, ‘intuition’-based playing style, this one appealed to me straight away.

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At a brief 75 minutes, the film never drags and in fact may be considered too short by some. But for me that length is perfect. Carlsen himself is a reserved figure, an unashamed introvert who has no problem being rude in social situations to read about chess and further his mastery of the game. Often, in fact, he’ll seem lost in the space of his mind, his ‘own world’ – and we see how lonely a place it can be as well, with even the family and friends who he personally values so much unable to comprehend what goes on in his head. A bite-size gem of a movie.

13. Graduation

Romanian director Cristian Mungiu shared Best Director at Cannes this year for this family drama focusing on the socio-political environment of Romania. It also provides an insightful look into parenting and the notion of how far one is willing to bend their integrity in order to give their children the best life possible (which, in this case, is ‘escaping’ Romania via a scholarship to Cambridge). A typically masterful European movie made with skillful insightfulness, and unbridled honesty pertaining to the often-curious patterns observed in human behaviour.

12. Goldstone

Sequel to 2013’s Mystery Road (one of the more underrated movies of the past few years – check it out), Goldstone sees the return of aboriginal detective Jay Swan as he attempts to solve a missing persons case that inevitably turns out to be linked to a larger plot.

This is a smart sequel, possibly an even smarter movie than its predecessor. It doesn’t simply pick up where Mystery Road left off; rather, Jay Swan has changed considerably as a character due to certain things that have happened in his life since his last outing. The film doesn’t rush into revealing these details too quickly, instead settling into a groove dealing with this movie’s independent storyline, which also means anyone who’s never seen the first movie can enjoy this film without needing to. For those who have seen its predecessor, trying to work out what’s changed with this central character – you may not recognise him to begin with, such has been his change – adds an extra element of intrigue.

Otherwise, Goldstone deals with themes like human trafficking, capitalism, and aboriginal natives being driven off their land by rich white men for the sake of (what else?) expansion and profit. When all’s said and done, this film is probably deserving of a higher place on the list, if it weren’t for the emotional connection I had with certain others to come.

11. Queen of Katwe

Just released widely in UK cinemas, Queen of Katwe is set to be, I hope, Disney’s biggest hit of 2016.

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Based on the true story of Ugandan chess prodigy Phiona Mutesi, Queen of Katwe is another film that first jumped out at me because of its subject matter. It turned out to be much more than just another movie about chess, though. Yes it has the feel-good vibes one would expect from a movie of this nature; yes, it is undoubtedly one for the entire family to enjoy (and probably my favourite ‘family movie’ of the year). Having said that, there’s still a ‘rare’ quality about this film; considering it’s a full-scale Hollywood Disney movie set in Uganda, with an exclusively black cast.

I shouldn’t say “if there’s only one film you see this week, make it this one” in a week when I, Daniel Blake is also released, but I certainly want to at this moment.

10. Frantz

Francois Ozon has made some of my favourite films over the past few years – In the House and The New Girlfriend were two of the best movies of 2012 and 2014 respectively.

Frantz is another departure for the talented director; filmed predominantly in black and white, it’s an unconventional romance set in France in the immediate aftermath of the First World War. Uniquely the character of Frantz himself only appears in flashbacks, the story revolving around a German man who knew him during the war travelling to France to meet his family. French-German relations of the time period are examined from both sides, as the film begins in France from the perspective of a German, then ends in Germany from the perspective of a French character. Colour is used sparingly in the film, but is effective when a transition takes place. This is another great outing from Ozon.

9. Paterson

Adam Driver hasn’t been short of attention in Hollywood since starring as Kylo Ren in Star Wars: The Force Awakens. He’s found a role here that would define him, if he hadn’t already played one that inevitably will instead.

He plays title character Paterson in this film, a poet who lives in the city of Paterson, New Jersey. A bus driver by day (a trade that allows him to overhear some interesting conversations as the hours tick away), Paterson and his wife live a rather idyllic yet simple existence that feels right out of the American blue-collar storybook. In the evenings and at weekends, Paterson works on his poetry, which, while somewhat unspectacular, helps make him increasingly endearing as the film goes on. We end up connecting closely with this character despite his otherwise uninteresting lifestyle.

His dog in this film also gives an admirable performance; having won the Palm Dog award at Cannes for ‘best performance by a canine’. Paterson is due for its UK release in late November and may well be one I revisit soon.

8. Ma’ Rosa

A strong contender to pop up in the ‘Best foreign language film’ category as an entry for the Philippines, Ma’ Rosa is a stark portrayal of the struggle people have with everyday poverty. Central character Rosa is a mother and wife who casually sells hardcore drugs from her corner shop – out of necessity to ‘get by’. She comes across like a mother to the small, intimate surrounding community and so magnetic is lead actress Jaclyn Jose’s performance (for which she won Best Actress at Cannes) that at no point can you bring yourself to judge her from a moral high ground. Set during rainy season in the Philippines, the film has a kind of eccentric beauty about it, though a good portion of it you spend inside a police station over the course of a night in which police corruption is also exposed. Look out for this one next year.

7. Arrival

It seems inevitable that Denis Villeneuve is set to become this generations Spielberg, Kubrick and/ or Ridley Scott all rolled into one. His previous work has shown similarities to them – he’s set to inherent the Blade Runner franchise with his next project – and Arrival feels like the sci-fi Spielberg and Kubrick would have made if they had worked on one together (A.I. doesn’t count).

Arrival isn’t my favourite Villeneuve movie; that mantle still belongs to the lesser-known Enemy, and I admittedly preferred Sicario to it as well, personally. But let that not take away from the overall quality of this film. It is one of the best, and one of the smartest of 2016. It also has a global theme about different countries and nationalities working together to avoid catastrophe, which should resonate particularly well with people when it is released this week considering our current socio-political climate.

Amy Adams is set to be a frontrunner at the Oscars for her performance in Arrival.

Amy Adams is set to be a frontrunner at the Oscars for her performance in Arrival.

6. The Handmaiden

Korean director Park Chan-wook (of Oldboy fame) returns with a film containing scenes that may rival Blue is the Warmest Colour in their raw, visceral portrayal of lesbian sex.

Obviously depending on your point of view, that could make or break the experience. But The Handmaiden really isn’t about that; rather it’s a winding love story that follows anything but the traditional narrative path, in which characters and their relationships are constantly in question. At least two major twists take place that change your perspective on what came before, giving the film an “I have to see that again” effect. It’s one of the best films of the year, without a doubt. It may even be Park Chan-wook’s best film to date.

5. Christine

Christine is set during a time (the early 1970s) when knowledge of mental health in America was still at an alarmingly primitive stage. The result is an experience that is at once sad and tragic, while you’ll also breath a sigh of relief that we no longer live in such times. Rebecca Hall gives the performance of her career as news anchor and journalist Christine Chubbuck, who shot herself live on air in 1974. The footage hasn’t been available anywhere – presumed destroyed – for some time, resulting in the story becoming somewhat of a modern myth; but it did actually happen, and at the time was as shocking as the portrayal here of elements leading up to the event. Christine herself was suffering from something; whether it was bipolar or a similar disorder is unclear, as though it is heavily hinted at, such diagnoses were non-existent at that time. This film is essentially the story of a woman who battles with demons yet is ultimately unable to defeat them. There was no happy ending for Christine Chubbuck, but thankfully nowadays there is for many who suffer as she did.

4. Chasing Asylum

An eye-opening look at Australia’s rather brutal anti-immigration policies in recent years; a documentary for which its makers took a genuine risk of two years in prison to release. Seeing its content, it’s not hard to work out why.

Honestly, this is a film that I believe everyone needs to see. Not a comfortable experience, especially considering the building anti-immigration sentiment in our own country, but you owe it to yourself to check out this documentary, regardless of the opinion you bring in or take out of it. This kind of thing is what can prevent mass stupidity in our own population and/ or government.

3. Personal Shopper

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Kristen Stewart continues to defy critics who have lamented her acting ability by giving one of the best performances of the year in Personal Shopper – a different kind of ghost story in that it’s not part of the horror genre. There are a couple of potentially frightening scenes for sure, though they will intrigue rather than unsettle you. In general that’s what this film does; set out to intrigue its audience rather than spoon-feed them some cheap popcorn thrills. Stewart plays a young woman whose brother is recently deceased, and whom she believes is attempting to contact her from ‘the other side’. She and her brother were previously psychics, supposedly able to communicate with the dead, though Stewart’s character brings a healthy, refreshing skepticism to the story, preventing the whole thing from becoming eye-rollingly cheesy. Instead there’s an understated quality running throughout this film, right up to an ambiguous ending, that I loved. Others may feel differently depending on taste, but it’s one of the most original movies I’ve seen this year.

2. My Life as a Courgette

Forget what anyone else says – this is the best animated film of 2016. A French-Swiss stop motion that comes in at a compact 67 minutes, it’s the story of a little boy who is sent to an orphanage after the accidental death of his alcoholic mother, where he meets a group of other small children who’ve all lost their parents in various tragic circumstances. Like any top quality animated movie (indeed as 2015’s Inside Out also did very well), it grants the respect to children that they’re able to ‘handle’ serious issues such as the death of loved ones, loneliness, love, and there’s even subtle – yet entirely innocent – references to sex. It’s equally hilarious and incredibly sad. The stop motion on display is also an excellent work of art. Nominated as the Swiss entry for Best foreign language film, I’ll be shocked if this isn’t one of the favourites to pick up that award in February.

1. George Best: All By Himself

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Admittedly this is a somewhat sentimental choice – I’m allowed one occasionally! – but George Best: All By Himself is also one of the most insightful documentaries I’ve seen in recent years. It doesn’t necessarily tell us anything new about one of the world’s best footballers, but it shares an emotional, engaging account of the boy from East Belfast who became football’s first celebrity superstar in the midst of the ‘swinging sixties’ in Britain, and you’ll likely come away from it feeling you know him better as a person than before.

I emphasise that because in recent years it feels like people don’t really look at Best as a normal person – rather, as a flawed genius who ruined his career on the football field because of his obsessive love of alcohol. And that he certainly was – but there was more to the man. All By Himself showcases a boy no different from any of us, who became swept up in a celebrity culture that the football world itself was unprepared for, and one in which he was unable to find any guidance or help, being the first to have experienced it. Growing up in East Belfast myself, this documentary obviously resonated with me, and while I wouldn’t hold any objective claim to it being the best film overall, it was my most memorable experience of this year’s festival.

Now I had been planning to write more in-depth reviews for some of the films here; as we’re at the stage where a few of them are being released widely – Arrival this week, and Paterson coming up as well – I’m instead going to post larger reviews of those films as they come. A notable exception from the above is Nate Parker’s The Birth of a Nation, which I did see at the festival, and I did point out beforehand as a potential contender for Best Picture at the Oscars… Well I’ve changed my mind on that and will be writing a longer review in this case, as I think this film and the context surrounding its production raises some interesting issues worth a larger discussion.