Alex Dewing – UCL Film & TV Society

FOMI 2020: A Journey in AdULTHOOD, London Film Locations

Alex Dewing — Fri, 29 May 2020 15:00:00 +0000

FOMI director, Alex Dewing, takes us through some of the filming locations of British Drama AdULTHOOD. This article was written as part of the celebration of the Festival of the Moving Image, UCL’s only student run film festival, which was unfortunately canceled due to COVID-19.

When the Kidulthood series began back in 2006, the film instantly found a special place in the history of cinema. Specifically British cinema. Up until this point, when pressed to think about a film centred on teenage life in the London you might instinctively reach to Gurinder Chadha’s Bend It Like Beckham or Nicholas Hytner’s The History Boys, both of which present some of the typical British tropes found both then and now. These films follow middle-class families who live in middle-class houses and live middle-class lives. Of course, there’s nothing wrong with this but audiences, as well as filmmakers, noticed that the focus on such backgrounds left so many people’s stories off the screen. One such filmmaker being Noel Clarke, of Kidulthood and Doctor Who fame. Clarke saw that people like Sam Peel, the protagonist of the Kidulthood series, were simply left at the sidelines of films, if not completely unseen. At its core, Kidulthood wasn’t too dissimilar from other teenage dramas. It is a story about kids trying to navigate through their teenage years and find their own paths to adulthood. But these navigations take a very different course when violence, race, and social issues are things that can’t be ignored.

These elements are further explored in the series’ second film, Adulthood, and solidify the film and trilogy as an important cornerstone for capturing the realism of life in and beyond a London estate. Frantic, urban, and unflinching, Adulthood follows Sam Peel as he becomes a free man having served six years in prison following the events of Kidulthood. Now forced to confront the damage he caused and the people he hurt, he soon finds that someone is out for revenge. As well as writing and directing, Noel Clarke stars once again alongside now key names in British cinema including Adam Deacon and Scarlett Alice Johnson. This British drama is non-stop. Set among the estates of West London, AdULTHOOD looks at how far you must go for redemption, with an immediacy that feels fitting of the never-quiet streets of London. London is such an innate part of the film, it almost lives and breathes as much as the characters themselves. The locations within it aren’t extraordinary but it is their mundanity that makes it and the film so representational. So what better way to celebrate the film than to show some of those very locations, many of which you’ve probably come across yourself.

Lancaster West Estate

The unique architectural style of this West London estate that comes from its 70s design, makes it so distinct and visually interesting. The estate and its hugely diverse community was from the very beginning a key part of Adulthood and the series as a whole, as it’s not so often we see films and stories come from places such as these.

Latimer Road Station

This tube station is the site of unexpected tension as Adulthood’s cat and mouse chase almost comes to a head as Jay boards the tube at Latimer Road Station, Sam simultaneously gets off. Only once the doors are closed do the two spot each other and stare off as rage brims under the surface.

Tasty Corner Café

This uncannily nostalgic corner café is the setting for a reunion between Sam and Moony (Femi Oyeniran), one that quickly turns sour after Sam reveals his true reason for the call; he needs help finding his family and anyone who might be looking to hurt them in an act of revenge. But Moony isn’t ready to get back into that business.

Ladbroke Grove Station

A lot of Adulthood’s happenings take place around Ladbroke Grove Station and Ladbroke Grove road, including where we first meet the not-so-nice Hayden, surprisingly played by Danny Dyer with his typical geezer gruff. Characters catch buses here, stop for a chat, and are even chased down side-streets, showing how close to home even the worst of situations can be.

Hammersmith Station

The confrontation between Jay (Adam Deacon) and Mooney about the death of their mutual friend years earlier, and in which Jay attempts to enlist his friends’ help in tracking down Sam, takes place both inside and out of a café next to Hammersmith Station. As their meeting shows a glimpse of how far Jay will go to take his revenge, this location made a lot of the promotional imagery for the film and can even be seen in the film’s official trailer.

Portobello Road / Tavistock Road

As a great example of Clarke’s juxtaposition of locations and actions within them, it is in this lovely area at the end of Portobello Road, known for its great Italian restaurants, that Lexi (Scarlett Alice Johnson), Adulthood’s main female protagonist gets into a fight over the location of much-sought-after cousin, Becky. It is in this same location later in the film that Lexi and Sam realise they might be of some use to each other.

PODCAST: Reviewing the Oscars 2020

Alex Dewing — Mon, 17 Feb 2020 19:54:29 +0000

Kerem, Maria, and Daniel got together to review the Oscars 2020, discussing everything from Parasite’s big wins to 1917’s big misses…

Give it a listen and be sure to follow us on Mixcloud.

A Decade in: TV Shows

Alex Dewing — Fri, 10 Jan 2020 18:19:34 +0000

We don’t even want to count how many TV shows showed up on our screens in the last decade, so our writers give their opinions on their favourites instead.

Avatar: TheLegend of Korra (2012-2014)

The sequel series to Avatar: The Last Airbender had to live up to a children’s series phenomenon. In The Legend of Korra, the exquisite world building is extrapolated beautifully. The animation style is so difficult that the first season’s studio declined to animate the second because The Boondocks caused their animators less stress! The Avatar franchise uses beautiful colouring and animation styles that honour the incredible martial arts and fight scenes. Furthermore, the series manages to present complicated narratives and themes to a children’s audience. The whimsical magic of the four elements in the original series is transformed into a gritty steampunk world with industrial change. It owes and pays much tribute to the previous series, but the surprises and additions are fun for any viewer. The combination of new ‘bending’ techniques and the invention of new technologies are great to discover and make the audience want to return to watching their world. Although the writing is weaker at the beginning, with an awkwardly written love triangle, the latter seasons are strong in showing the spiritual and political struggle. Korra faces villains who are domestic terrorists, fascist military dictators, and her own uncle.

Emma Davis

Sense8 (2015-2018)

Created, written and directed by the Wachowskis and J. Michael Straczynski, Sense8 was ambitious, heartfelt and visually stunning. The show took place in several locations around the world, with eight protagonists with their own arcs, it had the potential to be incredibly confusing, but it never was. The protagonists are ‘sensate’ – connected by a strange power that allows them to experience what another in their ‘cluster’ feels. At its heart, the show is about this connection and love. It was the also first piece of media I ever encountered that had multiple main LGBTQ characters (in fact, all the protagonists are confirmed as queer). It’s intimate and global; it’s action-packed and melancholic. It’s a show that can be re-watched over and over and you’ll find some tiny detail that you’ve never seen before. Sense8 was always about self-expression and freedom and I wish it had lasted a little longer.

Rhiannon C. Jones

Broad City (2014-2019)

After ending this March after a five year run, Broad City has left a television void once filled by the explosively colourful female sitcom. This show brought women into stoner humour, confronting the goofy dynamic duo shtick that has long been dominated by male comedians. Abby Jacobson and Ilana Glazer stomped, skipped, tripped, and stumbled through New York City, imperfect, chaotic, and deeply relatable. I tell all my friends to watch this show and wish I could do it all over again.

Sofía Kourous Vázquez

Brooklyn Nine-Nine (2013-)

Brooklyn Nine-Nine, a show that has united the warring factions of the internet since its first release in 2013 is my TV pick of the decade. Outcries upon the announcement of its cancellation in 2018 lead the TV Big Bosses to a hasty programming retreat as they commissioned the series for another . A real testament to the show’s significance. Andy Samberg (Joanna Newsom’s husband of Lonely Island fame) stars as the beloved Jake Peralta – a hapless junior cop with a predilection for chaos whose stubborn self-righteous goodness pulls him through. The performance of Gina Peretti (Chelsea Peretti) and Detective Rosa Diaz (Stephanie Bearitz) as supporting cast also call for a special mention. Riffing off the self-serious cop shows of the noughts (Cf. The Wire) Brooklyn Nine-Nine succeeds as a sitcom with its off-beat comedy which maintains emotional sincerity and sensitivity. A feat which most comics seem to find impossible nowadays, as we see more comedy falling back on cool irony and detachment, perhaps in order to evade dealing with that tricky stuff – emotion. This rare show has also been meeting increasing viewer demands for minority-experience representation from 2011 (ahead of the general consumer shift we’ve seen this decade) without appearing overtly contrived or moralising. While we’ve seen sitcoms such as Big Bang Theory and How I Met Your Mother on the decline in favour of drama in TV this decade, Brooklyn Nine-Nine (thankfully for us) has formed and nurtured its own niche in the market. But let’s be real, however much we love the cast, they’re still massive cops.

Xara Zabihi Dutton

BoJack Horseman (2014-2019)

As the year lulls to a close, my pick of the decade is predictably the cartoon about the horse with depression. BoJack Horseman (voiced by Will Arnett), the titular horseman, is a washed-up Hollywood actor who struggles to pick up his career after starring in a beloved 90’s sitcom. BoJack doesn’t work because he doesn’t have to; his old show ‘Horsin Around’ bestows him with B-minus fame and LA-mansion pools of money. BoJack comes to terms with this by acting like a sleazy asshole: he inhales gin and hits on women willing to either exploit or overlook his has-been status. The show kicks off with BoJack meeting Diane Nguyen (Alison Brie), a writer hopeful who is hired to author a tell-all on BoJack to revitalize his dying career. Diane is too good to cater solely to onanistic publicity, and her insight forces BoJack to ask himself why he can’t stop drinking, why he keeps fucking up, and why he keeps hurting the people he loves. The beauty of BoJack Horseman is that its ridiculous. Brought to life with Lisa Hanawalt’s anthropomorphic animations, most of the show’s humor is derived from the joke that half of the characters are talking animals. It works because BoJack Horseman is grounded by its impeccable writing: the show crackles with wit, snapping with meta-puns and alliterative tongue twisters. The script’s delivery is upheld by an all-star cast: Amy Sedaris glows as BoJack’s Jersey-accented feline agent, and Aaron Paul gilds as the ditzy but sweet high-school dropout chilling on BoJack’s couch. Far from simply addressing the superficiality of celebrity culture, BoJack Horseman shines a light on topical American issues like abortion, gun control, racism, and the garbage fire election crisis of 2016. The effect is rippling and expansive: as BoJack spirals, the world does too. I find this endlessly comforting: BoJack Horseman never pretends everything isn’t going to shit.

The show is now in its sixth and final season, and I already know I’m going to miss it. I’ve spent a good part of my adolescence getting lost in the lush and jam-packed world of Hollywoo, assuaging depression by stuffing cereal and BoJack’s crazy antics into my face. What strikes me is how cathartic it all is; while acknowledging that the world is a toilet bowl, BoJack Horseman never fails to be weird, funny, and hopeful. BoJack Horseman is a social critique and meditation on mental illness, but also essentially a heartfelt comedy: the series pokes fun at the vapidity of child star Sarah Lynn (Kristen Schaal) in the same breath it vivisects her tragic drug-addled past. Maybe its this schizophrenic slash multi-genre confusion that makes it so distinctly 2010s. In any case, BoJack Horseman is a relic I want to put in a locket and swing around my neck— like a baby tooth, or a middle school photograph.

Harry Mizumoto

A Decade in: Films

Alex Dewing — Wed, 01 Jan 2020 18:01:03 +0000

A selection of our writers take a look at the films that shaped them, and the world of film, this decade.

Waltz with Bashir (2008)

Never has an anti-war film felt as intimate and real as Waltz with Bashir, an animated autobiographical documentary about director Ari Folman’s experiences during the 1982 Lebanon War. The film has unique presentation. It is both a drama and a biography, with the director interviewing fellow veterans with the goal of recollecting his lost memories from the war. An animated documentary might strike some as odd, since documentaries are conventionally about documenting real life as accurately as possible. Yet the dreamlike presentation is purposeful; it meticulously captures the feeling of surrealism and alienation felt by young soldiers in wartime. Folman does not try to present his experiences in an objective, “news story” lens. What results is an extremely personal confession from the director.

Coupled with a haunting soundtrack by Max Richter, the film takes us through the absurdity of war, all building to one of the most shocking and disturbing finales I’ve ever seen in film. Waltz With Bashir is a prime example of cinema’s greatest strength: the ability to subjectively present a story that becomes more truthful than many other objective mediums of communication.

Bowen Xu

Avengers: Infinity War (2018)

2010’s have been the decade of the comic book movie, in particular Marvel. The Marvel Cinematic Univerise has been the anchor in this area both in terms of popularity and arguably, quality. Avengers: Infinity War is, in my opinion, the mountaintop of the MCU. While it is debatable whether the film is the best comic book adaptation of the decade, it epitomizes the 2010s in film. The movie managed to do nearly all of its hugely popular characters justice by instead focusing primarily on the strongly crafted villain, Thanos. This meant the movie could experiment with many new ideas and offer non-stop fun for two and a half hours. It also had one of the best endings for a MCU movie, which usually suffers from similarly formulaic endings. The movie somewhat managed to satisfy almost all of its fans, which should have been an impossible task to start with, but it was also a great motion picture with strong performances, a flowing story, and fantastic visuals.

Kerem Uzdiyen

The Neon Demon (2016)

The Neon Demon is shimmering pearl of film. Nicolas Winding Refn has sifted through the silt and runoff of our culture, coalescing it into a warped, beautiful and giddying reflection of the decade. The film follows an aspiring model, freshly orphaned, trying to make it in L.A. Elle Fanning is intoxicating, her innocence slowly souring into haughty disdain as fame drains away her humanity. Hunger haunts every frame: for fame, for survival, for youth, for beauty, for wealth. Fanning finds herself frequently isolated in frame, often in ethereal voids, her beauty centre stage throughout. We are carried along by Refn into the world of the superficial, finding ourselves yearning for the attention Fanning commands from the camera.

As we stare agape at The Neon Demon, entranced and horrified by the beautiful slow-motion death of Elle Fanning, we see ourselves and our present moment reflected back. A hall of mirrors shattering and reflecting back our million petty vices. We see Refn play out the death throws of the western cultural machine through the microcosm of the ultra-beautiful. Martinez’s sparse synths and the neon-heavy washed out set design are the bones of 80s excess, once fat on cold war clash of titans. All that’s left is the skin. Hollow excess and mouldering flesh beneath, Refn’s film is apocalyptic. One frame echoes Lynch, the next Fellini as Refn pinballs between influences, foregrounding the aesthetic above all else. Style becomes substance: The Neon Demon’s thesis is apocalyptic hedonism. All meaning has been lost, only the aesthetic remains, so we may as well relish in it. Touching on everything from abuse to the hyper-commodification of our lives to environmental havoc (the mountain lion in the motel room), the film is terrifyingly prescient. With the Epstein case coming to light the film becomes all too plausible. Dangerous, beautiful and seductive, The Neon Demon is the quintessential film of the 2010s. A masterpiece for our end times, it presents the gaze from the abyss, daring you to stare back.

Jamie Cradden

Taxi (2015)

Taxi has been my favourite of Jafar Panahi’s “low-key” films since he was banned from making them for twenty years back in 2010. Mentored by Abbas Kiarostami, this film is highly reminiscent of the late director’s A Taste of Cherry and Ten, in the way it portrays modern Iran from the cockpit of a vehicle. In this docufiction in which Panahi poses as a taxi driver working in the city of Teheran, we meet a variety of different characters that hop in and out of the taxi and listen to their exchanges with their driver, which range from seemingly conventional to the most bizarre. Midway through the film, Panahi stumbles upon a bike accident, picking up an agonizing man and his wife. This ensuing scene brings to light not only the precarious situation of a lot of people in Iran, but also shows how it can push people to make morally ambiguous decisions in a way that is not only memorable, but rather harsh and is often echoed later in the film. The use of the camera in Taxi is particularly creative; Panahi continuously plays with what the camera and audience can see, keeping certain characters and conversations off camera, while linking these with what is going on in front of the camera. This way of situating the viewer in the middle of the action might seem jarring at first, but develops surprisingly well as the film progresses. Out of Panahi’s most recent films, this one strikes me as the most creative, sharp and cinematographically interesting, and it is definitely worth a rewatch in the new decade.

Diego Collado

Roma (2018)

Roma came to us in the final hours of this decade. Netflix, front page: a black-and-white film, in Spanish and Mixteco, telling the story of an indigenous maid named Cleo (Yalitza Aparicio) in late 60s, early 70s Mexico. To me, this was not only a monumental work of Latin-American cinema, but also a cultural moment: that such a high-profile director would return to where he came from and then choose to elevate this specific story — it’s simply unpredictable but Cuaron did it. Writing, directing, producing, and co-editing the film himself, his efforts produced an epic powerful enough to challenge his previous feature, Gravity (2013). Roma is the story of a woman, but like all good works of art it speaks to something greater. It is the story of the forgotten, disenfranchised, quiet, anonymous, working Woman, brown and indigenous. She exists, and she is so strong. Most importantly, Cuaron does not speak for her. In fact, this is a rather quiet movie, and beautifully so. Never has an indigenous person or story in film been given such intimate, syntonic treatment with such wide exposure. No one will remember Green Book but we will remember Roma.

Sofía Kourous Vázquez

A Decade in: Scores

Alex Dewing — Sun, 29 Dec 2019 18:00:47 +0000

We got some of our writers to put on their headphones and share their picks of the best scores, songs, and composers of the last decade.

Jóhann Jóhannsson’s Arrival (2016)

The Arrival score and its sound design are an indelible aspect of the film’s sensory experience. To me, Arrival is an incredibly immersive film. Denis Villeneuve successfully takes on the challenge to adapt ideas as dry as language determinism and science fiction physics. The sonic loops, sustained pianos and gentle orchestra composed by Jóhann Jóhannsson convey the tenderness and the eerie puzzle that the characters face. The inclusion of Max Richter’s On The Nature of Daylight was the reason for its disqualification from the Oscars, but the piece opens and closes the movie as an anchor and seals the metaphor about time and memory. The heptapod aliens in the film produce unsettling deep vibration-like sounds to communicate. In contrast, the soundtrack is much lighter and almost airy. However, it’s also definitely dream-like but uncanny enough to never be comforting. The combination is in harmony. This score should be one of the best in the decade as it fills the deep visual and auditory blanks in Arrival’s overall design. It howls for the audience’s attention and gently guides them through to the film’s conclusion.

Emma Davis

Howard Shore’s Hugo (2011)

Scorsese’s Hugo was one of 2011’s most enchanting films and it’s score was nothing short of a wand in the process. Traversing through the chaos and crowds of Paris’s Gare Montparnasse railway station alongside the film’s protagonist Hugo, can only be truly captured within the trickling and tapping notes of Howard Shore’s score as Hugo sets out on a mission to fix, find and flourish amongst the mechanics of a clock. Shore’s 21 piece collection strings Hugo’s moments of panic, stress and squire perfectly across the film’s emotional pillars of love, anguish and frustration. The consequent emotional complexity of the film’s music allow it to punctuate and make sense of the action within. The transitions between the musical pieces are effortless and offer a firm wink towards the fickle nature of childhood and relationships as Hugo grows within the confines of clockwork magic, discovers friends amongst a rabble of cruelty, and finds footing amongst his family’s history. Where the music’s cadence falls between moments of tension and frivolity, joy and despair, Shore manages to capture it all. It is hardly controversial to suggest that this film would lack character and persuasion without its compassionate and acute score.

Ellie Lachs

Thomas Newman

As my number one artist on Spotify for the last 4 years (ie. since I started using the music service), it would be unjust for me not to bring a spotlight onto Thomas Newman as one of the outstanding composers of the decade. Having scored everything from the high-stakes action of Skyfall to the nostalgic trip back into the ocean with Finding Dory, it’s impossible to pick just one score to highlight. Newman casts his net wide, taking on a variety of projects in different genres, and yet his iconic delicacy of style is always notable but never to the detriment of the film. His use of repetition, particularly in the percussion section, alongside the varying instruments that are used prove his versatility and make for soundtracks that call to be re-listened to after the credits roll. It is his unique prowess at creating a sense of immersion, however, that makes him stand out to me this decade. You need only listen to ‘…Shells’ from Finding Dory, ‘Amen’ from The Help or ‘Precious Metals’ from Passengers (but just listen to the OST for that, don’t waste your time watching it!) for instant relaxation, as if you were floating peacefully underwater or dancing through the stars.

Alex Dewing

Hans Zimmer’s Inception (2010)

Christopher Nolan’s Inception was arguably one of the best movies of not just the decade but of all time, and Hans Zimmer’s score played no small part in this feat. More importantly, this score heavily influenced film scores for the entirety of the decade. The loud hits that first became popular with this score became a great influence to action movie scores. But leaving its unquestionable influence aside, Inception‘s score brilliantly captures the tense and mind-opening essence of the movie, regulating the tone and putting the audience on the edge of their seats. The pieces “Mombasa” and especially “Dream Is Collapsing” perfectly capture what Inception is. The score also has to be given credit for doing the theme of dreams justice. However, Zimmer puts his greatest stamp on the movie and the decade at the very end of the movie with the masterful “Time.” I personally don’t have enough adjectives to praise this piece of music. Inception’s score is a masterpiece, legendary in both its influence and incomparable quality.

Kerem Uzdiyen

A Decade in: Directors

Alex Dewing — Sun, 15 Dec 2019 17:26:34 +0000

A selection of our writers reflect on the directors who stood out this decade; whether for their cultural contribution, the work they’ve done, or the personal impact they’ve had.

Denis Villeneuve

Though quantity certainly does not equate to quality, Denis Villeneuve’s output of six feature films this decade is nothing short of a exhibition of excellent craftsmanship. Captivated by Prisoners (2013), I found myself anticipating every new Villeneuve film, and he never disappoints. His impressive streak of films – Incendies, Prisoners, Enemy, Sicario, Arrival, Blade Runner 2049 – definitively affirms him as one of the breakout directors of the 2010s, as well as positioning him as an influential player in the direction and potential of sci-fi cinema to come. His continual exploration into trauma and violence coupled up with a frequent collaboration with Roger Deakins brings to cinema worlds that are cold, harsh, yet beautiful. The season of winter comes to mind: the frosty forest of Prisoners, Ryan Gosling’s K lying in the snow, the cool colour palette of Arrival, silhouettes against the dawn breaking in Sicario. Psychological isolation and existentialist dread persist throughout his filmography; qualities that, in my opinion, are reminiscent of this decade in the Western world.

Plus, the ending of Enemy alone speaks for itself.

Xinyi Wang

The Safdie Brothers

When I think of the Safdie brothers, I think of anxiety. Right before the 2010s began, Josh and Benny Safdie premiered their second feature, Daddy Longlegs, at the 2009 Cannes Film Festival. The film was heralded as setting a new standard for DIY cinema, a descriptor that would soon encapsulate the body of their work. Now at the end of the decade, with five more films under their belt – Lenny Coke, Heaven Knows What, Good Time, and the soon-to-be-released Uncut Gems – the brothers have established themselves as cult indie film royalty. NYC born and bred, their films embody a New York minute – urgent, colourful, everywhere at once. They cast first-time actors they find on the street, they film without permits, they edit, write, and direct all of their films; the brothers possess a particularly Millennial hustle that allows them to create content constantly, always on their own terms. They represent a new generation of filmmakers, kids interacting with cameras from day one who aren’t afraid to use them. Yet with each film has come a larger budget and increased acclaim, challenging the do-it-yourself attitude that drew them their initial cult following. As big studios clamour to fund their projects, an important question emerges: can the brothers maintain their creative integrity in the face of a hyper-commercial (and confining) industry? Creating meccas out of minutiae, the Safdies have shaped independent cinema over the past decade, while simultaneously representing the precarity of its future.

Maria Duster

Alejandro González Iñárritu

The 2010’s was a decade of many great directors but, in my opinion, none stood out quite like Innaritu. He started off the decade with the heavily-acclaimed Spanish language film Biutiful which cemented him clearly as a visionary and talented director and proved that Babel was not a one-time hit. But it was really his move to American cinema that changed everything. In 2014 and 2015, he directed two completely different kind of films in Birdman and The Revenant but somehow mastered the craft in both of them. He became the first person since Joseph L. Mankiewicz in 1950 to win two consecutive Academy Awards for Directing. While the Awards have been heavily criticized in recent years, both of his wins were absolutely well-deserved. The style of Birdman made it a real stand-out and perhaps one of his greatest feats was getting the best out of Michael Keaton for a fantastic performance. With The Revenant, he almost abandoned dialogue as he let Leonardo DiCaprio, and to a lesser extent Tom Hardy, do what they do best in a beautifully shot film, demonstrating human nature in its core. Both films were visually scintillating, showing Inarritu’s eye for the camera and were brilliantly crafted shot-by-shot. While he did not make another feature-length film this decade, his three efforts were more than enough to make him my pick for the Director of the 2010’s.

Kerem Uzdiyen

Ava DuVernay

When They See Us is a phenomenal television series. Thirty years ago, the boys accused of the 1989 Central Park jogger case were demonised by the American public. Now, their stories were sensitively and shrewdly presented by DuVernay to the world. With the five men exonerated legally and culturally, this is emblematic of what makes DuVernay one of the decade’s most relevant and best directors. She uses her artistic prowess to express the history and predicament of African Americans. My favourite aspect of her direction is how she frames faces and uses space. The audience is confronted with not only the character’s hardship, but her actors are given close-ups that emphasise their emotional journey. Her characters may be facing institutional persecution or a literal prison cell, and she frames them off-kilter to knock the audience off balance too. Although her filmography has reoccurring themes and ideas of black self-determination, social justice and empowerment, DuVernay has a strong hold on projects with different needs. While Selma was a historical drama which celebrated Martin Luther King, it was more spectacular than your typical biography film. Her documentary 13TH was a rigorous examination of the prison-industrial system but enthralling and never losing a watcher’s attention. Considering DuVernay’s initial career as PR in Hollywood, her current projects are a stark contrast.

Emma Davis

Taika Waititi

I would argue, it is impossible to not find utter joy in the work of Taika Waititi, who has stolen the hearts of audiences over the past decade with his deadpan humour and absolute charm. After dabbling in directing TV episodes (including my favourite Flight of the Conchords), this Kiwi actor / writer / director (/ infinitely cool human) truly found his footing during the last decade. There are few directors who manage to find the balance between intelligent humour and the downright silly when it comes to comedy, but here Waititi is a pro. Whether it’s his critically acclaimed Hunt for the Wilderpeople, the big-budget and bigger-studio Thor: Ragnarrok, or the cult-classic What We Do in the Shadows, Waititi evokes childish delight from the audience that never fails to make you smile. His films are bright and bold, and in an industry where films so often profit off being stoic and serious it’s refreshing to see someone unafraid to not take themselves, or their work ,seriously. This, of course, doesn’t mean there is nothing serious to be found in Waititi’s filmography, you need only watch Hunt for the Wilderpeople to know that this director can have you crying with tears of saddness one second, and laughter the next. A true master of humour and drama, this once indie director may have found a bigger fan-base but frankly, he’s more chaotic than ever and I can’t wait to see what he brings in the decade to come.

Alex Dewing

Film Soc Shares their Favourite Frightening Films

Alex Dewing — Wed, 30 Oct 2019 18:00:58 +0000

A selection of our writers review and recommend their favourite horror films to add to your Halloween watch list. Check them out if you dare.

Dumplings (2004)

Fruit Chan’s Dumplings is the original Mukbang. The original cannibal Mukbang, that is. Originally released as one of the ‘Three…Extremes’, a collaboration between three directorial teams – Lilian Lee, Park Chan-wook and Bun Saikou with Haruko Fukushima – from three East-Asian countries – Hong Kong, South Korea and Japan, Dumplings was later released as a full-length feature after a positive reception from critics and audience alike. The film follows Mrs Li (Miriam Yeung) as she attempts to regain the attentions of her straying husband by purchasing a new lease of life. To do this, Mrs Li seeks the help of Aunt Mei (Bai Ling), who attributes her preternatural maintenance of the vitality and figure of a twenty-two year old to a special dumpling-consumption regimen. ‘Ick’ ensues, as a cacophony of audiovisual-clues reveal that something a little crunchier than spring onions is encased in the opalescent folds of dough. Reflecting on the disastrous consequences of criminalising abortion, Dumplings represents the best of social-realist horror, which has seen a welcome resurgence in the past year, with films such as Jordan Peele’s Us and Ari Aster’s Midsommar topping box offices. Put simply, this is not for the faint of heart, but a multi-sensory treat for anyone endowed with a strong stomach.

Xara Zabihi Dutton

Angel Heart (1987)

Angel Heart is a creepy neo-noir psychological thriller that follows drifting private investigator Harry Angel (Mickey Rourke) and his descent into a cryptic missing person’s case in 1950s New Orleans. Hired by the mysterious Louis Cyphre (Robert DeNiro), Angel stumbles around chain-smoking between visits to dusty colonial mansions, gritty blues shacks, and steamy gumbo huts, detangling the bigger mess of secret love affairs, black magic, and much spilled blood. The film’s atmosphere goes hard with the Louisiana imagery, obviously capitalising off New Orleans’ ‘voodoo’ reputation (is there potential for critical discussion of this — probably yes), producing a spooky, uneasy vibe. The film also features a very young Lisa Bonet as the seductive, seventeen-year-old Epiphany Proudfoot.

If you don’t watch this for the slow thrill, artful soundtrack, or X-rated erotica, watch it for DeNiro’s character’s innovative technique for peeling a hard-boiled egg: tap, tap, tap, crunchy roll. I can confirm it works really well and changes the game. And if that’s not enough, Christopher Nolan has also cited it as heavy inspiration for Memento.

Sofia Kourous Vázquez

The Evil Dead (1981)

Sam Raimi’s The Evil Dead is a deeply cool film. It wears dark glasses and a leather jacket, and listens to bands you haven’t heard of. It feels effortless. But, like all things cool, behind the veneer of indifference lies a great deal of hard work. Without much in the way of professional training between the entire cast and crew, Raimi & co. set out to create a fiercely imaginative film with all the debauchery and violence promised but never delivered by triple feature horror B-movies. The plot faintly gestures at the ‘kids stay at the evil cabin in the woods’ prototype, but it is a half-finished thought that steps aside fairly quickly in favour of blood, guts, and gore. Tim Philo’s intense, relaxed yet incredibly precise cinematography lets Raimi show off the incredible make-up and practical effects by Tom Sullivan, a novice who seemingly only ever worked with Raimi. The camera swings around and upside down, zooming along the ground as restless as the angered spirits. Throughout all of this, Bruce Campbell (and his chin) dominate the screen as he bleeds, screams and brutally massacres what remains of his friends. The Evil Dead is a riveting, fascinating experience which leaves you breathless, chuckling, and desperate to get out into the woods with a bucket of corn syrup and a gaggle of misfits.

Jamie Cradden

ERASERHEAD (1977)

Surprise! Your girlfriend reveals she’s pregnant and gives birth to what looks like a reptilian demon-baby. We’ve all been there, and David Lynch’s 1977 debut film turned cult-classic Eraserhead revisits this relatable dilemma. Swap jump scares for low-grade dread by watching tall-haired Henry Spencer (Jack Nance) care for his baby’s inexplicable blisters; because nothing’s spookier than parenthood and the fear that your offspring will look like a fleshy sperm with nostrils. Drifting across the film’s monochromatic interiors, you’ll encounter a cadre of friendly faces such as the Man in the Planet (Jack Fisk) and Beautiful Girl Across the Hall (Judith Anna Roberts). My personal favorite is the Lady in the Radiator (Laurel Near), who grins and sidesteps with the delight of an older, deformed Shirley Temple. Put bluntly, watch this movie if you want to feel like you’ve been dropped into a sensory-deprivation tank and left there for so long that you lose to ability to distinguish between seconds and minutes, before and after, and what it’s like to have a body and have it move through space to meet a form of resistance that isn’t a wave or ripple; and to grip something hard, so hard that the solidity of the object presses deep into your hand and makes it numb or bloat or crumble; and to eat a tomato, to have a ripe tomato to pop and sink in your mouth like a loud vivid-red deflation; so that you can feel the film of the skin slide between your teeth and tongue and shred it into thin strips with the sharps of your molars, quickly, before you forget what a tomato is, or what eating is, or mouths are, or red, or words, or thoughts, or forgetting—

Harry Mizumoto

The Thing (1982)

Described upon release as “instant junk” and “a wretched excess,” The Thing paved the way for visually repulsive horror (John Carpenter walked so Ari Aster could run!) onscreen. The film follows a group of American researchers in Antarctica who encounter “the Thing,” an alien parasite that can assimilate and imitate any organism. Once they realize any one of them could become the Thing, the group grows increasingly paranoid and frenzied, leading to a complete derailing of their mission. The film is worth watching for its special effects alone ($1.5 million of the $15 million budget was spent on “creature effects” such as rubber and food products), but isn’t for the faint of heart. In one particularly disgusting scene, the Thing bursts out of someone’s chest, bites off the arm of a doctor, and then turns into a disgusting spider creature. Equal parts horrifying and fun, The Thing takes everything you love about 80s movies and completely ruins them; kind of like Alien, but worse.

Maria Düster

Eight Shows to Watch This Summer

Alex Dewing — Wed, 03 Jul 2019 17:18:30 +0000

Editor-in-Chief Alex Dewing recommends eight shows that will keep you in the shade this summer.

1. Stranger Things Season 3

When the Duffer Brothers’ Stranger Things first hit Netflix back in 2016, nobody quite expected how far it would ripple through pop culture. It’s no surprise now that the show’s third season is the most anticipated Netflix release this summer. From the jaw-dropping new trailer, it’s clear that there’s going to be a lot in this next season. In the previous two, we’ve had adventure, horror, and mystery, and now it’s all coming together – bringing the action up tenfold. For the first time, we’ll see the school-aged gang outside of term time, giving them a much needed summer holiday spent at a neon-lit fair blasting synth-heavy pop and a shopping mall where fan favourite Steve Harrington (Joe Keery) works days at an ice cream parlour. As for what dangers threaten the gang this season, we’ll have to wait and see…

Stranger Things comes to Netflix on July 4th

2. The Boys

Even though Marvel brought their relationship with Netflix to a close with the third and final season of Jessica Jones, there is still an abundance of superheroes to be found on the small screen – but you’ll find none quite like The Boys. Adapted from the comic series by Garth Ennis and Darick Robertson known for its extreme violence and dark comedy, this Amazon Prime exclusive isn’t going to hold back. (Check out the trailer if you don’t believe me). Set in a world where superheroes have gone rogue, turning to corruption and villainy, only this superpowered team of ‘good guys’ can keep them in check. It will be interesting to see whether The Boys, developed by Supernatural creator Eric Kripke and comedy collaborators Evan Goldberg and Seth Rogen, succeeds as a superhero satire or flops with its gratuitously sickening approach.

The Boys makes its way to Amazon Prime on July 26th

3. The Dark Crystal: Age of Resistance

Jim Henson and Frank Oz’s cult classic film The Dark Crystal is getting its own prequel 37 years after its release in Netflix’s upcoming animated series Age of Resistance. With darker themes than one would expect from a high-fantasy, family-friendly adventure film, the original Dark Crystal shocked viewers – and the new series looks to follow the original’s lead. The show is set to feature a stellar voice cast: Taron Egerton, Nathalie Emmanuel, and Anya Taylor-Joy take the lead as three Gelflings – elf-like creatures from the planet Thra – on a journey to start a rebellion in response to the rise of the Skeksis – a villainous species of reptilian birds. These voices will be bringing character to some incredibly innovative puppetry, as to be expected of a Henson production, and the world-building of this show is a definite reason to give it a watch this summer.

The Dark Crystal: Age of Resistance hits Netflix on August 30th

4. I AM

BAFTA award-winning writer-director Dominic Savage will be bringing us a fascinating new anthology miniseries with Channel 4 that puts women and their stories front and centre. There’s always something a little off-putting when a mainstream broadcaster commissions a man to make such a female-focused show like I AM; however, in an article for Pilot TV, Savage managed to somewhat quell my suspicions by detailing his process in developing his scripts. The director talked in depth with his lead actors Gemma Chan, Samantha Morton, and Vicky McClure to find “characters, emotions and ideas” they are interested in exploring. This trio of fantastic women is reason alone to give the show a chance, but with such a great concept and lead creator also on board, I AM will certainly be an interesting one to keep an eye on.

I AM comes to Channel 4 in August

5. This Way Up

The first comedy series on my list is Aisling Bea’s This Way Up, a dark comedy that explores mental health in the modern age. This central concept is becoming more prominent in TV writing, and having been written by and starring Bea herself as the character Aine, and loosely inspired by her personal experiences, we can expect this Channel 4 original to be brimming with the appropriate delicacy, charm, and vulnerability. In the same way, there should be humour by the bucketload; Sharon Horgan (Catastrophe) will be starring alongside Bea as Shona, Aine’s sister. Close friends in real life, Bea and Horgan are sure to bring the chemistry needed for this series to succeed – not to mention their faultless comedic timing. Fingers crossed that This Way Up will be the perfect show to end a summer’s day on.

This Way Up premieres on Channel 4 on July 4th

6. Deep Water

ITV has slowly been catching up to other broadcasters when it comes to their original dramas; shows like Broadchurch and Marcella have found huge followings in recent years. Now, Deep Water might just be one to add to that list. Based off Paula Daly’s book series Windermere, the show has echoes of Big Little Lies, as it follows the lives of three women — played by Anna Friel, Sinead Keenan, and Rosalind Elezar — after an accident involving two of their children brings tensions and secrets to the surface of their community. Deep Water sports a female-led ensemble both in front of and behind the camera, and a team such as this can only result in good things. Add to that a handful of dysfunctional families, plenty of suspicious characters, and the picturesque setting of the Lake District in summer and you have a new drama to escape into — unless that premise sounds too much like your own summer vacation!

Deep Water is on ITV late this summer

7. Catherine the Great

If one thing’s for sure, you can always count on there being a new period drama on TV at any given time of the year. This summer Sky Atlantic provides us with Catherine the Great, following Empress Catherine II of Russia. This four-part historical drama flaunts a phenomenal cast: Dame Helen Mirren plays Catherine herself, and Rory Kinnear, Jason Clarke, Gina McKee, Joseph Quinn, and Sam Palladio feature, among other well-known faces. Set during the conclusion of Catherine’s reign, Catherine the Great captures the Empress’ fervent affair with Grigory Potemkin and its effects on her rule, as well as her notable position as a forceful female ruler embracing her power and sexuality. More War & Peace and less Downton Abbey, this drama should be something a little bit different within the genre and a must-watch this summer.

Catherine the Great hits Sky Atlantic this August

8. The Capture

What do The Night Manager, The Bodyguard, and The Little Drummer Girl all have in common? Other than being occupational titles, they’re all hit BBC shows that make it clear the broadcasters know drama – and now, they bring us a timely thriller in The Capture. Following DI Rachel Carey (Holliday Granger) as she takes on a seemingly simple case against ex-soldier Shaun Emery (Callum Turner), The Capture is set to examine the world of ‘fake news’ and ‘post-truth’ agendas. A surveillance thriller such as this hasn’t been seen on the BBC before, and we can be sure that it’ll join the ranks of other critiques of hypermodernity that have found popularity among TV audiences in the likes of Black Mirror and Hard Sun. After a long day relaxing in the sun, The Capture is a perfect show to watch to get your heartbeat racing again.

The Capture will air on BBC One, date TBC

8 Reasons You Should Be Watching ‘Russian Doll’

Alex Dewing — Tue, 09 Apr 2019 16:23:35 +0000

Alex Dewing recaps the new original Netflix series.

Only a few months into 2019, Netflix released the show Russian Doll and immediately set the bar higher for every Netflix original to follow. Visually stunning, hilarious throughout, and wonderfully original, this show has a lot going for it. So, to match its eight-episode arc, here are eight reasons you should be watching the show – if you haven’t already binged it.

1. It has a fantastic story.

Nadia Vulvokov (Natasha Lyonne) is a chaotic video game designer who, on her birthday, drunkenly stumbles out into the streets of New York to look for her missing cat – only to get hit by a car and die. And just like that, she’s back at her birthday party, confused but very much alive. Suddenly, death comes very easily to her – or maybe she’s just tripping? Maybe it was something she drank or ate? Figuring out the cause, and solution, to her Groundhog Day-esque cycle initially seems to be at the heart of Russian Doll, but as the episodes go on it’s clear that there’s a lot more to be explored beyond the show’s mysterious concept.

2. It’s created by a stellar group of women.

Amy Poehler of Parks and Recreation fame, playwright Leslye Headland, and lead actress Natasha Lyonne make up the powerhouse team of co-creators, which should get you really excited for this show – if you weren’t already. What’s more is that the entire writing and directing team is female. In an interview with The TODAY Show, Lyonne said the team made this decision so that “gender could disappear in a way that would make [Russian Doll] a far more human experience and a human story, without the historical tropes of what it would be for a woman to be going through this experience.”

3. It’s perfect for bingeing.

At eight episodes in total, each only 25 minutes in length, Russian Doll is a perfect show to binge-watch after a long day. Despite its relatively short episodes, the show is paced to perfection, drawing at first on the mystery at hand and later descending into time-bending chaos. Plus, with every episode introducing a new piece to the puzzle right at the very end, this is one that you’ll want to get through all at once.

4. That aesthetic tho!

Russian Doll is nothing if not rich in its production design. Nadia’s never-ending birthday party is hosted in an old yeshiva-turned-apartment owned by Nadia’s exuberant friend Maxine (Greta Lee); it’s full of modern people and modern art, including the iconic, “terrifying vaginal” bathroom door. There’s also Alan’s (Charlie Barnett) American Psycho-esque apartment, with its straight edges, clean surfaces, and alphabetised game collections. Everything you’ll see onscreen is lush with details and vivid colours. Don’t even get me started on the fashion; one look at all the wonderfully diverse New Yorkers portrayed in the show, and you’ll be grabbing your laptop to do some online shopping.

5. The characters are wonderfully flawed.

Lyonne has said that Nadia was, for her, a very autobiographical character, and the connection she shares with her character is evident throughout the show. Nadia is messy and hedonistic. Suffering from latent childhood trauma, she has no time for the banalities of the world, though she is deeply caring towards her friends. Meanwhile, Alan is her polar opposite: he is orderly, precise, and ascetic. Stuck repeating one of the worst evenings of his life, his forced cooperation with Nadia sets up for a lot of friction. But their development as individuals is handled with confidence and care, adding another dynamic to the show as a whole.

6. The music.

From the wistful, chill sounds of ‘Cherry Blossom (Moors Remix)’ by ALA.NI to the addictive energy of Harry Nilsson’s ‘Gotta Get Up’ that, quite simply, becomes the refrain for Nadia’s deaths and will not leave your head for a good long while, Russian Doll is filled with some absolute tunes. With an observant ear, you can catch classic rock songs, neo-psychedelia, experimental hip-hop, ’60s French pop, and even Beethoven concertos. Quite literally, there is something for everyone. So many of the songs, too, add thematic resonance in a way that is subtle but perfectly timed. Who doesn’t love adding new songs to their playlists after watching a show?

7. It’ll make you laugh.

Something you learn pretty quickly about Nadia is that her humour is dry and relentless; she’s always quick to make a sarcastic comment and sharp on the followup. Cynical in every sense of the word, her comedy embodies Russian Doll‘s morbid themes. Imbued with a delightfully dark humour (I mean, it’s a show about death, tragedy, and trauma – what else would you expect?), lines of dialogue are delivered masterfully, leaving you laughing probably more than you should. The chilling mystery, as well as the tense metaphysical exploration on which the show embarks, is adeptly balanced with this humour, and the show switches and blends the two tones expertly.

8. It never goes the way you expect.

You’ve seen Groundhog Day and, more recently, Happy Death Day – you know how these time loop shows go. Well, think again. What’s best about Russian Doll is that it is totally, wonderfully, fantastically unpredictable. So maybe give it a watch.

Russian Doll is currently available to stream on Netflix. Watch the trailer below:

Punctuating The Sound of Silence: A Look at Daniel Hart’s A Ghost Story Soundtrack

Alex Dewing — Thu, 21 Feb 2019 16:54:09 +0000

Alex Dewing reminisces on the melancholic score and soundtrack of David Lowery’s A Ghost Story.

“Don’t be scared”, whispers C in the opening moments of David Lowery’s A Ghost Story. It is in this same moment that we hear the longest piece of music from the soundtrack, swelling ominously over those very words (even the subtitles read [ominous music plays]). The sustained notes haunt the piece, as if seeking to tell you everything you need to know about the stirring picture to follow. Aside from its notable 1:33:1 ratio, and of course that opening A24 graphic, A Ghost Story doesn’t initially play out any differently to other indie movies. But once those 5 minutes and 23 seconds of song are up, so is its likeness to anything else. Dialogue and music are used equally sparsely, however when the score does play it speaks more than words ever could.

Undeniably existential, A Ghost Story lingers on the mundanity of grief both visually and audibly: after receiving a pie from an unknown but sympathetic source, M unwraps it, takes it to the floor, and devours it in one five minute long take. There is no sensitive accompaniment, only silence, broken by sobs and chewing. And why shouldn’t silence prevail? Nothing is more unsettling (because of its realism or voyeurism) than this emptiness. The predominant use of diegetic sound, such as that within the infamous pie scene, throughout the film underlines the chilling atmosphere. It closes in on the emotionality, gives you time to examine and cross-examine, even when it is only the soft soughing of wind.

While the omission of music allows for a breath to be taken as real-time is shot almost in slow-motion, composer Daniel Hart’s score, when it does make an appearance, seems to reflect time’s unruly passage. A Ghost Story toys with non-linearity, the ghost of C stuck watching over the house ceaselessly. The majestic and terrible ‘Thesaurus Tuus’ guides us forwards and immediately backwards in time, while ‘Post Pie’ accompanies C’s sight of M as she leaves the house over and over again with each new day. Later we hear ‘Gentleman Caller’, a sentimental string-filled piece that backs C’s meeting of his ghostly neighbour.

“I’m waiting for someone”, the neighbour says.

“Who?”

The camera refuses to move, keeping a distance as the neighbour hangs their head and confesses: “I don’t remember”. There is an equal feeling of foreboding to the music’s tenderness – presenting, perhaps, what may happen after too great a passage of time. It is this same foreboding that moulds the piece into the heated one it becomes. Sat on the couch, C witnesses M’s first venture with another man since his death. Time has passed, and C is angry about that. Angry at M, angry at his neighbour, angry that, for him, the passing of days, of weeks, is no slower than the length of a song.

It is not long after that A Ghost Story’s score continues the film’s existentialist ideas with one of its few tracks containing lyrics: ‘I Get Overwhelmed’, a meditative and melancholic electro song that, in the context of the film, was written for M by C. Hart, speaking about the soundtrack, talked about his personal connection: “What what am I doing? Why am I making the choices that I’m making? Why are all these terrible things happening around the world?… And I couldn’t really make sense of any of that. So I wrote [‘I Get Overwhelmed’] about it.”

These are the very same questions both C and M are asking themselves, the lyrics littered with questions – “Is my lover there? Are we breakin’ up? Did she find someone else? And leave me alone?” Their beauty and simplicity work on many levels; here, it is about the overwhelming nature of mourning, for both the living and the dead. The film cuts between M listening to the song for the first time and her listening to it after C’s death, alone on the floor, reaching out unknowingly to his sheeted figure. Whereas before, music reflected the non-linear nature of the narrative, this is clearly a projection of M’s memories; a sign that the passing of time is not wholly to be feared. Time moves on, but memories stay. And something as small as a melody can remind us.

Clarity, and an end to the overwhelming experiences of C, comes again with ‘I Get Overwhelmed’, this time embedded in the penultimate ‘History’.

“We’ve got a history” C tells M, after his ghostly form catches back up with the couple. Reminded of who he was, time slows back down, as does the music. The techno beats carry through from ‘History’ into ‘Safe Safe Safe’, our final track, and with it comes hope for C. Arguably the most beautiful composition of the movie, the music swells as C realises what he has to do. Back to the wall, he scratches away the paint left by M to hide the note she characteristically hides in every home she’s had to leave. Finally he manages to pick it out, just as the front door behind him swings open to invite him onward. As he unfolds with delicate apprehension, the music upholds the expectancy of something, finally, good. And quickly enough, the music fades out, falling softly with the sheet to the floor.

They say time is the greatest healer and that music heals the soul; in A Ghost Story nothing could be closer to the truth.

A Ghost Story is available to view on Netflix and Amazon Prime. Check out the trailer below:

Male Gaze, Digital Identity and the Horror Genre – An Interview with Cam’s Isa Mazzei and Daniel Goldhaber

Alex Dewing — Sat, 24 Nov 2018 17:19:32 +0000

Alex Dewing interviews filmmakers Isa Mazzei and Daniel Goldhaber of the recently released horror film, Cam, discussing the film and themes explored.

Isa Mazzei and Daniel Goldhaber’s passion project Cam is intense and gripping in every aspect, and a pleasant surprise especially as a debut feature. Revolving around an erotic webcam performer who finds her identity and channel stolen by a doppelgänger, the film ventures into the arena of sex work, in particular of cam girls, breaking the stigma and taboo that surrounds the sex industry and exploring questions relevant to our age of social media, where one and one’s online identity are indisputably linked. FilmSoc’s Alex Dewing had a chance to sit down with Goldhaber and Mazzei, the latter who based the story on her own personal experiences as a cam girl.

The transcript has been edited for clarity.

UCL FILM AND TV SOCIETY: So, first of all, I just wanted to say congratulations on the film, I managed to catch it at the London Film Festival and know that it is your directorial debut and your debut screenplay.

DANIEL GOLDHABER: Thank you.

FILMSOC: I thought I’d jump straight into the deep end. Cam doesn’t skate over the aspects of its backdrop of the sex work and camming industry and I wanted to ask how you achieved that balance of celebrating female sexuality without ever going too far into exploitation.

ISA MAZZEI: I think for us the main goal was to make a film where an audience would empathise with a sex worker. I worked as a Cam girl myself for a couple years so we were really sensitive to those issues and we never wanted any of the nudity or sexuality to feel exploitative or to ever invite the audience to objectify Alice’s body and so, we made a lot of conscious decisions in that we had a nudity writer, for legal reasons, but at the end of the day when [Madeline Brewer] showed up on set she decided how naked she was going to be. We trusted that she knew Alice better than we did, and so she knew “Oh Alice in this scene would be more naked than written or in this scene Alice would be less naked than written”. That was a really important collaboration between the three of us that really, I think, led to the authenticity of the nudity because Alice is only nude when Alice would actually be nude as a character in her own psychology and that’s really important. It’s never done for the audience’s gaze, it’s done as part of Alice’s journey.

DG: Something else that we were really careful about is [that] the movie is told from Alice’s point of view and so it was really important that the movie never felt like it had a male gaze from a kind of camera framing compositional standpoint. That was something I was reasonably familiar with, but only to a certain degree of how to strip a male gaze out of a movie. And so Isa was on set and she was extremely involved in that and we had a female DP, we had a predominantly female crew, but there were still moments we were shooting where Isa would run up to me and be like “This is a very problematic shot”. I would be like “No it’s not, we’re shooting the bow tie” and she’s like “No, but it feels like you’re shooting her tits”. It was this thing were, because there is such a legacy of objectifying imagery that dehumanises female characters, it was really really important that we don’t even incidentally bump up against it. So it’s really important that you have people and, as a male filmmaker, people around you who have that kind of vision and that you step back and listen to them.

IM: So often we default, just like Danny was saying, to the standards of filmmaking that cater to the male gaze. I know, not just with that shot, but there was also that time where Maddie took her top off and this call went around set: “Where’s the ice for her nipples?” And we’re all like, “Where’s the ice? Where’s the ice?” and a PA went to get ice and even for me it took a second to go “Woah woah woah, why would we ice her? Why would we do that?”. It’s just an expected standard in the film industry that even a very enlightened crew, and mostly women all working together, still don’t think of it. So it takes this act of engagement constantly to strip the male gaze out of a film, you can’t just do it just by hiring women, it has to be a really deliberate thought process.

Isa Mazzei and Daniel Goldhaber

FILMSOC: That’s really interesting. I know you mentioned you had a sort of manifesto for the making of this so I imagined that had a large role in that thought process. What sort of rules did that contain?

DG: It was absolutely and, I don’t actually remember everything on it because a lot of them were general guidelines; in many ways the process of making the film was the process of translating the generalities of the manifesto to the specifics of a movie. They were things like ‘the movie is never going to judge Alice for being a sex worker’ and ‘the fundamental stakes of the movie is that she has lost agency over her body and over her work, not that she is a sex worker and needs to leave’. I mean that was kind of the fundamental one but there were a lot of other little things, like we knew we needed to have a female DP, we knew that Isa needed to be on set-

IM: We wanted Danny to cam actually.

DG: Yeah.

IM: It was really important to me that he actually go online and feel that vulnerability of exposing yourself to strangers on the internet so that he could kind of relate to Alice and the story a little more, so he actually cammed for a week- two weeks?

DG: A week.

IM: So there was a lot of different types of things on it.

DG: Wanting that our direction and thought process with the men in the film – the cam viewers – are always acting rationally for themselves, that even if they’re coming off as creepy, even if they are behaving violently, that the conversation that we’ve had with them about their intentionality, the way they’ve been written, was that for them they’re just doing all that they know. And that was something that I think both actors brought to those roles that makes their performances and those characters more complex.

FILMSOC: You mentioned Alice’s agency and how losing that agency is what the film explores and I read that you saw the film as a reflection on the digital identity. Something I thought was really interesting was that you don’t condemn the digital identity, you promote the importance of having one and having control over it. Was that something you always wanted to explore?

IM: I think we knew from pretty early on that it was about digital identity. I think we weren’t quite sure where we settled on it until we were really delving into the story, but I know for us part of Alice’s journey is, yes she goes back [to camming] which politically is about a return to sex work, but it also is this return to digital identity. If you’ll notice, something I think that was baked in to the story was that initially there isn’t really a distinction between Alice and the Lola she performs, she doesn’t really wear a lot of makeup, she’s just herself online and Lola represents this fracturing of this digital identity when all of a sudden this persona has split off from her. And at the end when Alice embraces makeup and performance and has fully separated herself from who she’s performing as EveBot, she’s nothing like her. For us, that’s just a commentary on being aware of these digital identities we create. We love social media, we love the internet, we love Twitter, we also hate it but we love it and don’t think it’s realistic to say “Stay off the internet”, but it is important to be aware that we are performing when we’re online and that other people are performing for us as well. That’s just an important thing to keep in mind and we really did want to point that out.

FILMSOC: Cam is marketed as a psychological techno-thriller rather than an out and out horror, which again I thought was really interesting as a Blumhouse production. Did you ever consider taking it further a supernatural route or even further in the horror genre?

DG: I don’t think so. Personally, I have trouble distinguishing between a thriller and a horror in a lot of ways and for a lot of ways it does have to do with that supernatural creepiness but also it has to do with jumpscares. And jumpscares aren’t something that particularly interest me as a filmmaker. But a lot of people absolutely classify Cam as a horror film and its generally been programmed in mainstream film festivals in the horror category, so I definitely think that for a lot of people, especially because there is that supernatural hook of the doppelgänger, there is that supernatural-y horror-y bend to it. But ultimately, what we imagined Lola as was an embodiment of the social media algorithm, the same way that Facebook is run by an algorithm or Twitter is. So in terms of clarifying it more as a supernatural thing, we didn’t feel like we wanted to because we were trying to reflect the way that for Alice – what she cares about is getting back to her show and that she doesn’t question, necessarily, how this is all working because none of us really question how social media works. We just accept it as a given, even when it goes horribly wrong.

FILMSOC: I feel like having that in mind when watching the film will really change the way you watch it.

DG: What was your experience in categorising it?

FILMSOC: Oh, I went in quite blind. I remember seeing the poster and being intrigued by that-

IM: It’s great right!

FILMSOC: Such a great poster – the whole design of this film is so strong. For the film, I didn’t know what to expect but it does quickly set itself up as not your typical horror.

DG: I think that’s the stage we want to be in. Movies that are creepy or flirt with all these different influences and genres, pulling from David Lynch or David Cronenberg, or another director named David maybe.

IM: [Laughs] Lots of Davids!

DG: We’re saying, “Yes this is a genre but it’s more than genre, it questions genre.” I think that’s a really exciting place to be.

Isa Mazzei and Madeline Brewer

FILMSOC: Definitely. Before we wrap up I just wanted to expand on the production design. How much influence you had, how it was working with CHIPS [New York based design studio] to get that look of the film.

IM: I mean, we had full control over everything. That’s what was great about working with Blumhouse, they let us do exactly what we wanted which I think is so rare in this day and age in Hollywood. Especially for young filmmakers and especially for female filmmakers. To have a major company like Blumhouse say “do what you want” was pretty cool. We built this site [the online Camming website], we designed it, we really wanted it to feel like cam sites feel. There’s a lot of different types of cam sites but fundamentally a lot of them feel pretty dated and they have these weird emojis and weird gifs, so that was a really fun experience for us, building the site. And we did build an entire interactive site so that Maddie would have something to respond to live, because when you’re camming your eye line is really important: you’re watching yourself, then you’re checking your rank, then you’re responding to your guys or reading messages and we wanted her to laugh at real jokes that were in those chats. And for the poster that was pretty much-

DM: – I mean we didn’t really have any money for a poster but we really wanted to do something that would feel special, so I found this designer through a friend of a friend. I met her and her work was really cool and I was like “I will give you, essentially, no money to design a poster” because it was what we had. And I was like “whatever you want to make is going to be our poster, make anything. I’m going to give you no requirements for it”. And that was her first draft. We fiddled with the size of the fonts but other than that-

IM: She’s insanely talented.

DG: And it was cool for her because rarely do you just get to make a thing for a film with no notes. So, that was a great experience. I think the other thing to call attention to in the design and look of the film is that it’s also one of those cool things where we were able to mine aesthetic territory from the story itself, and from wanting to make camming feel like this fantasy space, wanting the real world feel like this much less stimulating space, still aestheticised, still in the same world of the movie but the colour palette is much more drained whereas camming is this hyper-stimulating neon fantasy. That was kind of our idea at the beginning and it was just through collaboration with Emma Rose Mead, our production designer, and Katelin Arizmendi, our director of photography, that we were really able to breathe life into that. I am really insanely proud of the work the whole production team did. And, just to give him a shoutout because I don’t think it gets nearly enough credit, our locations manager. It goes down to somebody like that who has so much influence over the world of the movie. We wanted the world of the movie to have this anywhere-USA feeling, and we were shooting in Los Angeles so we decided arbitrarily to set it in New Mexico. We love New Mexico but there was no real reason it had to be there, we could have set it in Georgia or North Dakota. But that gave Jesse [Berger], our locations guy a target to hit. So really any aesthetic success, or any success at, goes down to the entire team and what they brought to it.

Cam is currently released and available to stream on Netflix. Check out its trailer below:

A Tribute For Stan Lee

Alex Dewing — Thu, 15 Nov 2018 17:45:46 +0000

Alex Dewing remembers Stan Lee, co-creator of Marvel Comics, the brain behind iconic superheroes such as Spiderman and the X-Men, and the king of cameos. He passed away on November 12, 2018 – he was 95.

It’s Friday 27th April 2012. It’s the day after term starts at my school and nobody’s too happy to be back. My Dad, in an attempt to cheer me and my brother up, decides to make a rare trip to the cinema; he’s heard a new blockbuster superhero movie just came out. He thinks, “That’s what we’ll see. I might enjoy it, and my son definitely will. Oh, and Alex might find some of it entertaining too”.

Little does he know that when we leave the cinema the only one who’ll be raving about The Avengers will be me, that my love for all things comics and superheroes will be born — his mistake. When I came home, babbling about an “enormous green rage monster”, a demigod with the weirdest of accents, and a desire to read more stories about this ragtag group of heroes, my mother didn’t hesitate in telling her self-appointed super Marvel nerd of a brother that I was hooked.

About a month later the biggest package I had (and still have) ever received arrived. It was full to the brim with Marvel comics. Comics which I then devoured, giving them prize spot on my bookshelf and bringing a new one into school every day. I tracked down the nearest comic book store and would go whenever I could, much to the dismay of my parents. I would be devastated when I couldn’t make it, missing the release of the latest issues of Thor: God of Thunder: The Accursed (one of my favourites) or whatever else I was reading.

Stan Lee and his wife Joan at the First Mighty Marvel Comic Book Convention in 1975

Now, it would be wrong of me to say that all of these comics were written by Stan Lee. In fact, I don’t think any of them were at all. But that’s no surprise. Original issues written by the man are pretty rare. Lee wrote his final comics back in 1972, putting down the pen and instead taking up the role of publisher. He wasn’t the founder of Marvel, as many wrongly believe, but he changed the world of comic books and, consequently, cinema and pop culture itself.

Lee revolutionised the superhero comic by making it a genre not just for kids. The stories he worked on were focused on flawed characters, their psychology, and the less-than-easy dynamic between team members. He pushed so far that even the Comic Code had to be changed; allowing for Marvel’s storylines to challenge contemporary society itself. Not only that, Lee was the creator or co-creator of almost every big name in the Marvel superhero world. Spider-Man, Iron Man, Thor, Black Widow, Black Panther, Nick Fury — need I go on? Lee’s characters have gone so much further than he could ever have imagined. And all the better for us.

Like so many others, I self-identified through these worlds and characters that Lee helped create. I’m not the only person who has, over the years, accumulated far too much Marvel ‘merch’; or found themselves in an embarrassing number of debates about why Thor: The Dark World is an incredibly underrated film, or whether James McAvoy or Patrick Stewart made the better Professor X (okay, maybe the latter two are just me).

People from all walks of life flock to the worlds that Stan Lee created, for so many different reasons: they provide escapism, catharsis, and familiarity. Simultaneously, they’re otherworldly and fantastical while imperfect and grounded in reality.

Lee brought life to not only one world, not even one universe, but a multiverse filled with all kinds of characters and stories. It’s impossible to get bored of. Looking for an exciting and thrilling crossover? Then you check out Secret Invasion. Want something a little bit lighter? The Unbeatable Squirrel Girl is your best shot. It’s the same when it comes to the Marvel Cinematic Universe that Lee’s work made possible: Captain America: The Winter Soldier is as tense as any thriller film, and Thor: Ragnarok as funny as any comedy. Probably funnier.

Ask any Marvel fan and they’ll admit that getting lost in its world isn’t a difficult feat; I know from experience that a re-watch of Iron Man quickly becomes another Marvel marathon and before I know it I’m sobbing as Thanos (actually created by Jim Starlin and Mike Friedrich) takes to the screen. Marvel has never failed to provide fans with some of their most memorable cinematic experiences. I’ll certainly never forget sitting in the BFI IMAX, crying and cheering along with fellow fans as Infinity War broke us for the first time, just as I’ll never forget seeing The Avengers with my dad and brother that April evening after school. Without Stan Lee none of that would have been possible.

In his words: “Marvel is a cornucopia of fantasy, a wild idea, a swashbuckling attitude, an escape from the humdrum and prosaic. It’s a serendipitous feast for the mind, the eye, and the imagination, a literate celebration of unbridled creativity, coupled with a touch of rebellion and an insolent desire to spit in the eye of the dragon.”

Stan certainly spat in that dragon’s eye: he rebelled and he created, and his work will continue to inspire people to do the same for generations to come. So, thank you, from us all. ‘Nuff Said.

‘Benjamin’ Review

Alex Dewing — Thu, 08 Nov 2018 18:43:36 +0000

Alex Dewing reviews Simon Amstell’s bittersweet comedy.

A breakup plays out on the screen.

“I love you”, says one man.

“You hesitated too long”, replies the other.

It is an opening that takes you by surprise, no more so than when the reel seems to snag. A figure, the very same who hesitated just a moment before, rises in front of it all and turning, seemingly to the audience, asks whether the scene is any good. This is Benjamin, a filmmaker riddled with anxiety surrounding the release of his second film. A vegan who, as we come to find out, struggles more than most when it comes to the world of romance. From these opening minutes alone, it is evident that much of this bittersweet story comes from director Simon Amstell’s own experiences, and the honesty of it is palpable throughout.

Benjamin is a quiet film. Between the awkward meetings and charged arguments, there are journeys on the bus; moments where Colin Morgan’s Benjamin is free to smile to himself at the prospect of a new relationship, or start from a nightmare following a strange evening at a near-strangers flat. These meandering scenes offer brief respite amidst the non-stop grins throughout the rest of the film. As a comedy cynic, I did not expect to laugh as often or as hard as I did here, despite the film’s clear standing in the ‘Laugh’ branch of the festival. Even the movie’s humour is low in scale, though high in results. Media satire plays a large role here – a cameo by Kermode and Mayo certainly leaves a cinephile audience in stitches.

Meanwhile, Benjamin pokes fun on a more personal level; for every bumbling film screening introduction, there is an equally farcical attempt at making romantic advances, or consoling a friend. Underneath it all, too, is a consistent sense that the humour comes from a place of reality. Benjamin, alongside his best friend and stand-up comic Stephen (Joel Fry), unknowingly works his way into increasingly ridiculous and stressful situations. His comic troubles aren’t at all far from the awkward plights we find ourselves in day-to-day, which makes it that much easier to empathise and laugh with (and sometimes at) him. Speaking about his comedy, Amstell said that he is “telling the truth each time. And that’s what it will always be about”- an intention that is strongly felt through the entirety of the film.

Morgan carries a charm to the emotional disarray of Benjamin. His nihilistic attitude (to settle his fretfulness, his producer lies him down cooing “we’re all going to die”), as well as his nervous ticks (more often than not Benjamin just cannot keep his mouth shut) are characteristics that are certain to dissuade some viewers. But to many, these will anchor an emotional attraction. Simply put, he’s weird. And many of us are.

“He’s probably me when I was in my late twenties…” says Amstell “…so [he’s] like a deranged lunatic.” Morgan gives a strong and intimate performance, one that leads you to ask why he stars in so few films. Moreover, his chemistry with up and comer Phénix Brossard, who plays Noah (the “skinny and well-lit” French musician that Benjamin so desperately wants to fall for) is creditable, though the latter’s character is undeniably less fleshed out than his counterpart.

It is a shame that by the final act the film turns even further inwards. Narrowing the focus solely on Benjamin’s emotional troubles and thus rendering the film a little lost. With 15 minutes to go, it’s difficult to see how the narrative can be wrapped up, especially since it’s one that seems to revel in a more character driven approach. Benjamin’s arc rounds itself off slightly too neatly and without a truly satisfying catalyst. Similarly, a subplot centring around the emotional upset of Fry’s Stephen isn’t engaged with deeply enough to be justified, though further comments on the idea of the ‘tortured artist’ that seems inherently part of the creative industry today.

It’s good to see Amstell developing a more assured approach to his work; in only his second feature, he shows huge promise. Benjamin has a cinematic softness to it, but finds itself strongest when celebrating its realism or relishing in its comedy. As heartfelt as it is hilarious, Amstell and Morgan find a balance between the humour and emotional drama. This is a film that will divide audience reactions but deserves to be seen, if only for a good laugh.

8/10

Benjamin has not yet acquired a release date or trailer. It premiered at the BFI London Film Festival on October 19th.

‘Dead Line’ Review: The Eerie ‘Inside No. 9’ Live Episode

Alex Dewing — Fri, 02 Nov 2018 17:47:49 +0000

Alex Dewing reviews the live Halloween special of the BBC dark comedy anthology series.

The deliciously dark duo of Reece Shearsmith and Steve Pemberton, who over the course of twenty-three years working together have introduced viewers to the twisted League of Gentleman and the equally wicked Psychoville, enter new territory in their latest project Dead Line. If the first episode is anything to go by, the upcoming fifth season of the anthology series Inside No. 9 will continue to make audiences laugh and scream in equal measure. This episode may surprise viewers not because it was broadcast months ahead of the rest of the show, but because it is the first episode to be broadcast entirely live. As one could expect from the creators of a series that features a musical episode, a single-shot episode written in iambic pentameter, and an episode shot entirely through CCTV cameras, Shearsmith and Pemberton continue to tackle more and more audacious ideas, raising the bar both for themselves and for TV itself. Dead Line, by far the pair’s most ambitious, and perhaps most enjoyable, project to date, went off without a hitch (so to speak).

This episode follows Arthur Flitwick (Pemberton) as he seemingly communes with the dead through an old flip phone found in the local graveyard. In his performance, Pemberton invokes the old whimsy of his beloved Psychoville character Oscar Lomax. Stephanie Cole brings more farcical humour in the ditzy Moira, friend of the lost phone’s owner, while Shearsmith makes his entry as the suspiciously saintly Reverend Neil – unfortunately alongside a brief technical glitch leaving the audience without audio.

Sadly, this slight glitch was not the only one to occur on the night of the live episode: as the transmission fell silent again a BBC apology placeholder appeared, the continuity announcer apologising for the “gremlins” in the system. A rerun of the popular episode A Quiet Night In was temporarily played as the sound issues were dealt with. The duo seems aware of how people are excited by such errors: “I think that’s what people want to see,” Pemberton himself said to the BBC Media Centre. Few others would be as excited about the prospect of technical failings as these two. However, it is this understanding of their audience that allows them to create a brilliantly harrowing experience in spite of the issues that befell them during transmission.

By the time Dead Line finds its footing again, the audience is thoroughly engaged and it takes no time at all for the scares to start rolling in. With a variety of filming techniques – including voyeuristic CCTV footage and found footage-style scenes reminiscent of BBC’s 1992 Halloween mockumentary Ghostwatch – there is a depth to this very traditional horror narrative that compels you to carry on in spite of every fright. Dead Line’s scare tactics are scattered assuredly throughout the episode on a backdrop that is exhaustively seeped in an eerie atmosphere. It climbs and crescendos at an easy pace that only Pemberton and Shearsmith would have the confidence to attempt.

When asked before shooting if this episode would follow in the footsteps of The Trial of Elizabeth Gadge or The Devil of Christmas as one of the few episodes taking on period settings, Pemberton said: “[Dead Line] is going to be contemporary.” This assertion is a complete understatement; Dead Line feels as if it could only exist in our world, a world in which losing a mobile phone is comparable to losing a life (and a world in which fans are quick to turn to Twitter to sympathise or scold the team for technical issues). The episode’s surprisingly simple setup permits it to instead turn meta and find its scares in the audiences’ own technological anxieties – and with such flawless execution, what scares they are! Whether you’re a fan of Pemberton and Shearsmith or if this is the first time you’ve heard of the duo, Dead Line is a piece of TV that deserves a watch.

Inside No. 9 will return with its fifth series in 2019. Dead Line is currently available to view on BBC iPlayer.

London Film Festival: ‘Duplicate’ Review

Alex Dewing — Wed, 24 Oct 2018 16:25:10 +0000

It’s festival season! The FilmSoc blog is covering the 62nd BFI London Film Festival (10th – 21st October), diving into the myriad of films and events on offer to deliver reviews.

Alex Dewing reviews Bill Oliver’s low-key sci-fi on the duality of life.

Not only is Duplicate Bill Oliver’s debut at LFF, but it is, more impressively, also his first feature-length film. And what a debut it is. He takes up the role of writer and director with an assured and delicate touch that sets him up as one to keep your eye on. Who better, then, to lead his low sci-fi drama than fellow up and comer Ansel Elgort? Together, these two create an inspired story that is simultaneously a spectacular piece of sci-fi cinema and a delicate exploration of family and mental health.

Brothers Jonathan and John live very different lives; the former is reserved, quietly creative, and somewhat naive, quietly turning down the advances of the new girl at his architectural firm without even realising her interests in him. Meanwhile, the latter is extroverted and assertive, a free spirit, staying up late after work in favour of sticking to his sibling’s strict routine. But still, the bothers are closer than most. So close that, in fact, Jonathan and John are one and the same. Two minds, one body. In Oliver’s world, this is merely a rare condition and one that can be dealt with – namely by splitting the two into separate consciousnesses and giving them ‘shifts’ (7am to 7pm and 7pm to 7am).

It is not however simply a Jekyll and Hyde trope. Instead, it’s given a sophisticated spin through focusing the film through the sole perspective of Jonathan. The two can only communicate through video recordings made at the end of each shift. But there is a conscious restraint from painting the two as hero and villain. There are no more antagonistic sentiments from John than ones you might find from a child towards their own sibling. Moreover, this closed narrative allows for and heightens the dramatic tension that the film greatly profits from; following Jonathan’s life as he deals with his brother’s increasingly distant and erratic behaviour, John’s absence from the screen mimics that very same absence from his sibling with wickedly suspenseful effect.

From the heights of Edgar Wright’s Baby Driver, Duplicate may seem a strange direction for Elgort to be taking. His effortless charm seems more fitting for big-budget pieces than sci-fi indies. Yet he slips into this role (or roles, I should say) with confidence and ease, striking a balance between being a normal man trying to find his place in the world and one who has been born into an impossible situation but perseveres out of his love for his family. As John descends further into desperation and despair for reasons unknown to his brother, Jonathan too falls into hopelessness, determined not to lose the one person he’s always been closest to. Elgort is transformative in his performance, bringing a subtlety to his internal battles that further highlights his skill.

Similarly, cinematographer Zach Kuperstein takes a muted approach to the visuals of the film. The cityscapes are imposing but beautiful, while the startlingly unspoiled structures feel at once familiar and yet somewhat futuristic. You are reminded at all times that Jonathan is trapped in more ways than one. With Elgort’s character consistently restrained to the edge of frame, staring out at the unknown, Duplicate is superbly composed through clean edges and sharp lines; lines which start to blur as the narrative pushes forward.

Uncertainty surrounding the films narrative direction aids the film in maintaining intrigue and suspense; what starts as a brotherly disapproval of John’s decision to start dating (breaking the final and most important rule set by the two on advice from their Doctor / surrogate mother Dr Nariman, Patricia Clarkson) slowly tumbles into more deeply-rooted obstacles that threaten their entire existence. These two sides of the story, however, is expertly counterpoised by Oliver. LFF Programmer, Michael Blyth, states that this film is “intimate in scale yet boldly ambitious in its ideas”, a statement I wholeheartedly agree with. Duality, it seems, runs through every aspect of the film.

Duplicate is an assured sci-fi tale that plays through with a quiet confidence, languorously delving into the realities of its fiction. At the same time, it perfectly portrays the deceptive nature of mental health issues, whether intentional or not. A reminder that internal struggles are exactly that – nobody can know when you’re hurting. And sometimes, you can trick yourself into believing you’re fine. Roz Kaveney said that the strength of the sci-fi genre is founded in “picking and choosing narrative tropes and developed ideas and making from them something new”, and Duplicate does exactly that. Together Oliver and Elgort have, quite simply, made something incredibly unique.

8/10

Duplicate is known as Jonathan in the United States. It has yet to acquire a UK release date. Check out the trailer below:

‘Searching’ Review

Alex Dewing — Sun, 09 Sep 2018 16:29:35 +0000

Alex Dewing reviews Aneesh Chaganty’s newest screen-point-of-view thriller.

It is without question that technology is one of the few aspects of our society that has not ceased to grow at an exponential rate. Apple products are everywhere you look, streaming and VOD services are more popular than ever, and even A.I.s are starting to make their way into our homes. It is no surprise then, that with all this technology comes an underlying, unspoken fear of its omnipresence that has led to it becoming a popular feature of horror films; think The Ring, Unfriended, or Channel 4’s tv movie Cyberbully. There is, therefore, a sigh of relief and curious raise of the eyebrow when Sony Pictures announced Aneesh Chanty’s Searching, a film set entirely on laptop screens and isn’t a horror. In fact, Searching promises to be a hyper-modern crime thriller and utterly delivers.

Opening on the well-known Windows home screen, the first five minutes of Searching tell the story of the Kims’ life in a sequence as emotionally charged as Pixar’s Up. After adding ‘New User: Margot’, an array of photos and videos of the little girl growing up fills the screen. It radiates nostalgia throughout, reminding you of the files storing all your childhood memories and how cool it was to come home to MSN. Alongside this warmth, however, is the story of Margot’s mother’s battle with lymphoma. It shifts the mood of the sequence as the event ‘Mom comes home!’ is pushed back again and again.

When we finally are met with the present, after you come to realise that that sequence was only an introduction and not the saddest short film of all time, the real story takes off. Margot has suddenly and inexplicably disappeared following a late-night study session. Police are called and a detective assigned. Meanwhile David (John Cho), Margot’s father and desperate to help, searches through his daughter’s laptop for anything that could provide an answer. It sets up a seemingly typical mystery-thriller and, as expected, little more can be said about the films plot without risk of spoiling the experience.

Because that is what Searching is: an experience. You may go in expecting to be bored by a regular crime story held up only by its ‘gimmick’, but it becomes evident that, as the narrative progresses, there is no other way that this story could be told and have resulted in the same emotional response. Faced with the exact same screen that David is seeing, aided occasionally by attempts to diversify the visuals through close-ups and cutaways, you are asked to play detective, to scour the pages alongside David, and to find the clues. Thrillers rely on the efficacy of the pacing, and it is here that Searching undeniably excels. An ominous sense of dramatic irony hangs over the first act, as David is led to believe Margot was never in harms way and simply carrying out an act of teenage rebellion by bunking off school. However, when the truth comes out, the race to find Margot is laden with more panic and dread due to those lost hours of policing. From then on, it is twist after twist, with none leaving you feeling cheated. On reflection, everything adds up. You just didn’t catch it.

John Cho proves himself to be one of the most underrated actors right now through his visceral performance as David. Through the FaceTime app, conveniently left open on screen, his character is realised with such brutal realism made all the worse by the sleazy feeling that comes from the use of screens. Would David allow himself to break down in tears in front of his family or friends? Probably not, but he will when he’s alone, staring at a computer screen. It’s tonally voyeuristic, heightening Cho’s performance by breaking down the barriers of typical film cinematography.

With its quiet diversity, unsuspecting thematics, and a spectacular score from Torin Borrowdale, Searching is an assured and singular debut from Chaganty that will surely become a key piece of mystery-thriller cinema. Certainly a must watch for 2018 that will leave you wanting to change your laptop password immediately.

9/10

Searching is currently released in UK cinemas. Check out its trailer below:

The Cakemaker (‘Der Kuchenmacher’) Review

Alex Dewing — Sun, 19 Nov 2017 18:36:24 +0000

Alex Dewing examines Ofir Raul Graizer’s emotional debut.

Israeli writer-director Ofir Raul Graizer isn’t holding back in his poignant feature debut: The Cakemaker tackles everything from sexuality to religion. As the first images of the film appear, presenting the Berlin bakery where protagonist Tomas (Tim Kalkhof) works, with jazz music playing in the background – and setting up the romance between Tomas and visiting Israeli businessman Oren (Roy Miller) through gratuitous shots of the two sharing a delicious-looking Black Forest gateau – you can’t help but be reminded of a Woody Allen film. But this is no comedy. It takes less than ten minutes for the tragic sudden death of Oren to occur, shattering the hearts of Tomas and the audience alike, and sending him on the journey this film follows. Instantly you know it’s going to be a bundle of fun.

Tomas, seeking closure, travels to the hometown of his short-lived lover and finds work, and penance, in the small Kosher café of his grieving widow, Anat (Sarah Adler). He tells nothing of his relationship with Oren, and finds solace in baking the famous cinnamon biscuits which help Anat transform her café into an overnight sensation. The bond that forms between the two, like the narrative itself, develops at a confidently gradual pace and, through it, Graizer explores grief, the clash of cultures, and most importantly, the fluidity of sexuality. It is love, the purest idea of it, that both Tomas and Anat are in search for after their mutual heartbreak and labels such as “gay”, “straight”, or “bisexual” won’t stand in their way. In a wistful flashback, airy scenes of Oren and Tomas in bed together are intertwined with those of Oren and Anat. Later, in a moment reminiscent of Jerry Zucker’s Ghost, Tomas teaches Anat how to knead dough, and as the flour floats into the silent air the sexual tension is palpable. Throughout the film Graizer tackles these deeply complex themes with a delicate hand, remaining neutral towards all his characters’ actions and their consequences.

It is not only through the relationship between Tomas and Anat that Graizer questions the morals of his characters – and by extension his audience – but also through the complicated one shared by Anat and her brother-in-law Motti (Zohar Shtrauss). For all intents and purposes, Moti acts as the antagonist of The Cakemaker. He criticises Anat for not being able to properly look after her son Itai, disapproves of Tomas baking in the café, and threatens both for not conforming to the Jewish customs of the town. But Graizer refuses to create one-dimensional characters and makes use of the food motif to show both the conflicts and the connections between characters, and especially Moti. In an irony-filled scene where we see Tomas seated at Oren’s place at the dinner table, with Anat and her son cheerfully at his side, Moti’s presence and power emerge as Itai refuses to try a slice of Tomas’ legendary Black Forest Gateau with the words, “He told me not to”. Yet we also see him bring Tomas plastic boxes filled with traditional meals, along with an invitation to dinner, so as to ensure he does not forgo the celebration of Shabbat. To an audience’s eye, the leisurely close-ups of enticing cakes, biscuits, and homemade meals may seem to supply mouthwatering filler by cinematographer Omri Aloni, but it goes further than that. There is a surreal glow surrounding these sequences which, in turn, contrast with the stark and mournful reality that Graizer depicts so sensitively.

These themes are intrinsically linked to the narrative and are brought to life through the outstanding performances of the cast. Adler’s Anat walks the line between remaining strong for her son and herself, standing against her brother-in-law to defend her ways of running the newly prospering café, and grieving for a lost love, the pain always hiding somewhere in her expression. But it is Kalkhof who carries the film, and he does so by portraying the character of Tomas with a subtlety that avoids any theatricality, any stereotypes. Late in the film, we see Tomas kneading dough in his new, upgraded apartment in Israel, and crying. Kalkhof holds nothing back; he sobs, he is a hopeless man, and it is devasting to watch. This shot resembles those of Tomas’ ethereal bakes. Dominique Charpentier’s simple yet moving score fades into silence and the camera never moves, leaving the audience, just like Tomas, to face up to reality. This is the genius of Graizer’s debut. He presents a beautiful and sorrowful narrative that asks the audience to consider and reconsider their own morals and beliefs. The Cakemaker has been created with astounding simplicity, and yet nothing is simple about it.

The Cakemaker is out now in select UK cinemas. Trailer below: