There is an intimate relationship between cinema and the city. While urban environments possess ample potential for exploring space on screen, the intangible aspects of these places – identity, mood, energy – prove more difficult to portray. The lived reality of a city versus its depiction in film can inspire both love and hate, a somewhat strange confrontation with fact and fiction.  Below, five writers from Film Soc examine how cinema sees their hometown, and how the identity of that place makes it onto film.

Chungking Express, Hong Kong

Emma Davis 

When Hong Kong is featured on film, it’s often the commercial towers that make it on screen. Whether it’s Lara Croft, Batman or Pacific Rim, the jagged shiny buildings loom above an action star’s adversary. It’s an exotic urban locale; busy, anonymous and full of delights. However, such films fail to show the human, realistic side to Hong Kong’s urban environment. Wong Kar-Wai’s Chungking Express was one of the first films that showed western audiences a wondrous side to the city. In the film, I saw my own experiences of Hong Kong’s meandering character. The first eponymous location, Chungking Mansions, is an underrepresented area even within Hong Kong society. Regarded with suspicion as a crime-ridden area undeserving of attention, the Mansions are a place where ethnic minority Hong Kongers and immigrants support each other in a multicultural tower that functions as an indoor market, shopping centres, restaurants and guest houses. The city of Hong Kong is an equally chaotic concept. Unfortunately, the real fast food shop Midnight Express is no longer open, exemplifying the cutthroat reality of operating a business in Hong Kong’s central district. The area is constantly undergoing change, easy to see as you ride the Central-Mid Levels escalator up the hill. Chungking Express is a melodramatic and brooding movie, but it shows a simple Hong Kong; full of sweaty neon nights and long humid days, the way in which the characters languidly interact with the city is intimately familiar — not exotic or hectic.

Starter For Ten, Bristol  

Annabelle Brand

I watched Starter For Ten a few years before starting university and, in a lot of ways, it set my (sometimes unrealistic) expectations for what uni would be like. The film is a love letter to the student vitality of my hometown, Bristol, where city life is shaped by the ebb and flow of returning students. Based on David Nicholls’ novel of the same name, Starter For Ten follows Brian Jackson’s (James McAvoy) first year at Bristol university, attempting to navigate both systematic academic elitism and women.

As I became closer in age to the Bristol uni students I saw in town, walking around Clifton, Park Street, or College Green, the depiction of university as shown in Starter For Ten seemed to become more and more real to me. Although the movie seems a little dated now – the film came out in 2006, and I’ve been in uni for a while now –  its reckless cheerfulness still feels charatersitic both of my experience of uni life and my hometown. 

Dazed and Confused, Austin

Maria Duster

Dazed and Confused stumbled into cinemas in 1993. The film follows incoming high school seniors and freshmen on their last day of school, an eclectic odyssey of teenage life in the 70s. Director Richard Linklater (Before trilogy, Boyhood) has lived in Austin since the early 80s and remains an important presence in the city’s film community, alongside collaborator/patron saint Matthew McConaughey. Dazed and Confused is a cult favourite of Austinites, a sentimental day trip in the midst of a rapidly changing city. While most of the movie’s locations have been torn down and/or gentrified, those that remain find a way to sneak themselves into the lives of residents, whether they realize it or not. The field on which Pink and Wooderson muse about life is the Toney Burger Center, a stadium where I spent many afternoons at age 13 watching middle school football games in a painful attempt to get my crush to notice me. The Emporium pool hall was filmed at an old shopping center on North Lamar, one of the main thoroughfares of the city I’ve frequented my entire life. Growing up in Texas feels both dull and frenetic, a wide open space filled with nothing and everything. I love Dazed and Confused because it reminds me of the city I knew as a child – Austin before it became Austin – and the spark that’s still there. It feels like an old cotton t-shirt from a random Tex-Mex restaurant, weed and beer, stupidly nostalgic and incredibly heartfelt. Austin, through and through. 

Spike Island, Manchester

Daniel Jacobson

There was a period of around 20 years – between the Sex Pistols at the Lesser Free Trade Hall and Oasis’ Be Here Now– where Manchester was the coolest place in the world. For many, including the school lads at the centre of 2012’s Spike Island, this feeling was epitomised by The Stone Roses’ seminal 1989 debut album, a record brimming in equal parts with witty self-awareness and an epic, anarchic punk spirit of literal biblical proportions, capturing the community and paradoxical optimism following decades of rapid post-industrial decline.

I grew up in a very different Manchester – one where you can buy smashed avocados in the Northern Quarter, Morrissey has gone off the rails, and the last Stone Roses single was arguably the worst song of the decade. However, I found myself re-evaluating my relationship with the city following the 2017 attack. Though Manchester has shifted and evolved, it is grounded in its history, conserved by both its culture and people. Although Spike Island – which follows a band of friends attending The Stone Roses’ legendary Spike Island gig – can come across as overly slapstick and sometimes unfocused in capturing the youthful exuberance conveyed by The Stone Roses, it presents itself as not just a love letter to the band or the city, but an ode to distinctly Mancunian values. 

Slackistan, Islamabad/Karachi

Fatima Jafar

I grew up in Karachi, the chaotic, big-city sprawl of Pakistan, but the film that always reminds me of home is the 2010 independent film Slackistan, based in the country’s capital Islamabad. Made on an almost non-existent budget, the film is heavily inspired by Richard Linklater’s 1990-baby Slacker, but focuses on a group of twenty-somethings in Islamabad, fresh out of university and disenchanted with life. Slackistan encapsulates the laziness of a day spent driving around with friends aimlessly, in a car burning with the afternoon heat. It is hopping from friend’s house to friend’s house, in a seemingly endless post-university malaise, looking for excitement and life in a ‘city that always sleeps’. The director, Hammad Khan, manages to capture the detached reality of sheltered young adulthood in cities like Karachi and Islamabad, where time is whiled away drinking tea, smoking cigarettes, and having conversations about what you wish you could do with your life. Soundtracked by different Pakistani punk and rap artists, Slackistan is an irreverent, satirical ode to the slowness of freshly obtained adulthood in Pakistan, and the gnawing sense that, while people around you seem to be falling in love, getting married, and starting their lives, you’re still stuck in restlessness of your teenage years. Slackistan, with all its messy, amateurish cinematography and wandering dialogue, represents perfectly (with a healthy dose of irony) the angst and confusion of sheltered kids trying to find their place, and purpose, in Pakistani cities. 

All of the above films are available to stream or buy online in the UK. 

Emma Davis reviews Ciro Guerra’s latest colonial drama.

Waiting for the Barbarians follows a man called the Magistrate (Mark Rylance) over the course of a full year running the outpost of a small frontier town situated in ‘The Empire’. The film starts with the torrid arrival of Colonel Joll (Johnny Depp), a cruel and efficient officer who has been sent to quell any indigenous peoples’ revolt against the Empire. The Magistrate works closely with the oppressive Colonel, which leads the Magistrate to question his loyalty to the Empire – an uncertainty that acts as a catalyst to his eventual downfall. Despite a colour palette reminiscent of the Adventures of Tintin comics, this film takes on a surprisingly dark and serious tone.

This is Colombian director Ciro Guerra’s fifth feature film and first English-language one. Waiting for the Barbarians bears similarity to the director’s Oscar-nominated Empress of the Serpent and his crime drama Birds of Passage, which both explore the tumultuous relationship between Colombian indigenous peoples and their oppressors. Extrapolated to a more general context,  Waiting for the Barbarians centers the psyche of the coloniser, not the colonised. The script is penned by Afrikaner J. M. Coetzee, writer of the novel by the same name, who grew up in South Africa during apartheid. His best-known works are largely about people feeling like foreigners where they live—an idea that is explored with the Magistrate’s character in Waiting For The Barbarians.

Mark Rylance handles the character of the Magistrate astutely. His character is gentle yet strictly bureaucratic, a disposition nuanced by an obsession with the local people and culture. The audience feels unease as Rylance’s creepy performance and a strong script deftly handle issues of fetishization and the colonial gaze. The character of Colonel Joll serves as a great adversary to Ryland’s Magistrate. Johnny Depp plays the Colonel as cold, cruel, and deeply unsettling, a portrayal that avoids becoming a caricature thanks to the small amount of screen time given to his character. The body language and costume design of the Colonel juxtaposes that of the Magistrate, with the Colonel’s decadent black-and-gold uniform providing a stark contrast to the practical khaki clothing of the Magistrate. When the pair interact, their scenes reveal tension beneath the characters’ polite formalities. 

The rest of the characters are not utilised as well as Rylance and Depp. As Officer Mandel, Robert Pattinson makes an excellent late entrance to the film, but the rest of his time on-screen feels indulgent and is used to demonstrate increasing brutality against revolutionary suspects. Aside from these three men, Gana Bayarsaikhan plays a woman from the ‘barbarian’ nomadic tribes, simply called The Girl. Tall and beautiful, with a tragic backstory and incredibly muddled storyline, she simply exists to further the narrative development of the Magistrate. This issue extends to the rest of the supporting cast; while they could be interesting figures in their own right, they simply prop up their protagonist. 

The film plays with lots of ideas, but these ideas fail to impress. The whole movie feels dated, especially the tropes of colonial fiction used. The second half contains more physical violence than the first, exposing a greater depth of suffering to the Magistrate and, in turn, the audience. What pleasure would an audience receive from seeing a uniformed white man beating a row of Asian people? What do I, as a viewer, discover about human brutality by seeing women and children of colour being beaten? What can I learn about the tension between revolution and reform as forms of social justice? This movie portrays violence and suffering without actually delivering the substance it desperately wants to get across. Clunky narrative and weak thematic points let down an otherwise stylish film.

A modern audience would benefit from specific depictions of the injustices that speak truth to colonialism’s impact. For instance, I prefer the work of director Claire Denis in her cinematic explorations of the ‘white saviour’; compared to Denis’ filmography, Guerra’s direction and Coetzee’s writing look weak. Ava DuVernay’s series When They See Us takes the perspective of the victims of a wrongful conviction by New York Department of Justice. Any adaptation of Madame Butterfly will show how a white man in power falling for and seeking to protect a woman of colour in his imperial domain was a staple of 20th Century Asian representation. In literature, Nadine Gordimer puts nonwhite South Africans in the centre of her stories on apartheid South Africa, in contrast to J. M. Coetzee’s more limited scope. Gordimer is thus known for more politically-charged writing about apartheid South Africa than Coetzee (You can read about their debate on censorship around Salman Rushdie’s work here). When it comes to examining colonialism, I think it’s inappropriate to insist, as Waiting for the Barbarians does, on an almost fantastical setting when the costume design and colonial themes strongly invoke the very real memory of European violence. As such, exploring the perspective of the oppressor, no matter how sympathetic they are, is dangerous — and frankly, it’s boring.

The film explores the validity of indigenous peoples’ knowledge, and this produces the most compelling metaphor. As the Magistrate tells the newly-arrived colonial armed forces, the local people know the land better than the colonisers of the Empire. When suspects are apprehended by the armed forces, the violence is pointed: the indigenous captives’ eyes are ruined to blindness. They can no longer see the world around them or the land they live on. Their feet are burned, which also symbolically ruins the lifestyle of nomadic peoples: they are now deprived of the freedom to roam without subjugation and obedience to the Empire. But again, it is not particularly insightful to reap the suffering of people of colour on-screen when they are unnamed characters. In this film, they are reduced in the gaze of the Magistrate, their coloniser, as he questions his own allegiance to the Empire.

The inadequate handling of these narrative features distracts from the main cinematic elements of the film. No matter how well the cinematography serves the desert and mountains, or how intricate the costume design, the film’s analysis of colonialism feels strange amidst the realities of our modern discourse. It misses the mark on what kind of stories are needed today to discuss issues and repercussions of colonial regimes. Those in power have written their own history, and this film reinforces these narratives instead of directly confronting them.

Comparatively, Waiting for the Barbarians‘ attempt at commentary leaves audiences underwhelmed. The film clearly wants to be subversive—are the colonisers not the barbarians for their violence?—yet falls flat. The creative tools used to explore these ideas are employed awkwardly, making the stylistic and cinematic elements empty and the overall movie a drag. Whilst empire nostalgia is insidiously prevalent in European nations, I’m not sure to what audience this movie is meant to appeal.

Waiting for the Barbarians has had select showings at film festivals worldwide. A wide release date is not yet confirmed. Check out a sneak peek below:

The London Film Festival has come to town! For the next two weeks, over 300 films will be screened all over central London. UCL Film & TV Society has five members who will be reviewing the festival.

A film festival may seem more appropriate for industry professionals and film journalists. However, the London Film Festival is incredibly open to the public. Most importantly, it is generous to young students with the 25 & Under scheme. You can get £5 tickets to select screenings at the festival. In addition, the BFI has committed to providing over 100 free events as part of their LFF for Free scheme, which include talks, panels, Q&As and even DJ Nights. Some can be booked in advance, but don’t be afraid to turn up and see what you can do!

Faced with an enormous catalogue, how do you even consider what to see? The curators behind LFF have kindly split the programme into strands. You can see the whole selection on the BFI’s website or pick up their hardcopy catalogues all around London.

To get you started, our LFF Blog team has put together a few recommendations and why the festival is worth checking out:

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A Marriage Story

• Good for lovers of Adam Driver’s face, people whose favourite movie is Kramer vs. Kramer, and those who crave intimate narratives on screen.
• Why?: The family drama from Noah Baumbach (Frances Ha, The Meyerowitz Stories, The Squid and the Whale) opened to rave reviews at Venice Film Festival and has garnered lots of award season buzz.

Get tickets for showings on the 6th, 7th and 11th of October

The Peanut Butter Falcon

• Recommended for when you want to laugh and leave the cinema smiling, fans of Mark Twain and frontier fables.
• Why?: The dramedy packs great performances from Shia LeBeouf and Zack Gottsagen and sets the benchmark for providing non-tokenistic representation for differently-abled folks in film.

Get tickets for showings on the 3rd and 4th of October

Circus of Books

• Recommended for documentary lovers, frequenters of Gay’s The Word, and those who want to watch weird and wonderful parents.  
• Why?: Apart from the opportunity to discover the social and cultural history of the gay community in Los Angeles and the history of pornography, the documentary has a personal touch as the director turns the camera onto her parents. 

Get tickets for showings on the 12th and 13th of October

A Pleasure, Comrades! (Prazer, Camaradas!)

• Recommended for vicariously living in the Mediterranean countryside, fans of Pride (2014), or those just want to see a cute goat or two amongst cultural and generational clashes.
• Why?: Long live the proletariat, long live the sexual revolution! Amusing misunderstandings and charming moments are abundant, based on real stories from post-Carnation Revolution rural Portugal. 

Get tickets for showings on the 3rd and 4th of October

Bombay Rose

• Recommended for Bollywood fans, dreamy romantics rooting for star-crossed lovers, those who want to see non-family-oriented animation. 
• Why?: The film is directed by Gitanjali Rao, whose animation shorts screened at Cannes Film Festival to critical acclaim. A romantic feature film set in Mumbai, the film possesses a vibrant brush-stroke painting style and immersive sound design. 

Get tickets for showings on the 12th and 13th of October

County Lines

• Recommended for fans of kitchen sink realism, Ken Loach stans, those who liked Beach Rats. Or maybe you’ve just binged Top Boy: Summerhouse and want something more introspective.
• Why?: Vulnerable boys being groomed by county lines drug trafficking gangs is a massive topical issue in Britain. 

Get tickets for a showing on the 13th of October

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Covering the festival is an immense challenge. The UCL Film Society Blog will be reviewing whatever screenings our correspondents can schedule in. What makes it worth it for those who are going? Keep an eye out for the names below. 

Alex Dewing
Not only are the films screened at LFF wide in their variety (with romance, thriller, comedies and cult classics to be) but they’re available to see at such good prices (only £5) and in some great cinemas. Little Monsters, a zombie focused horror-comedy, or zom-com as I like to call it, is definitely worth a watch and you can catch it at the BFI Southbank or Vue West End.

Emma Davis
I think the festival is great for catching movies you’re unlikely to see in regular programming in your nearest cinema, or movies before their official wide release date! I had the opportunity to watch Axone, and it is having its world premiere at the Festival. LFF is a great opportunity to see movies from countries, genres and directors you wouldn’t consider otherwise.

KC Wingert 
The LFF is a really great opportunity for students to catch a wide range of new, internationally-acclaimed films in Central London. No matter what genre you’re looking for, you’re likely to find it showing at the LFF. This year’s lineup features stunning examples of what happens when women of color are put in the director’s chair – see the quirky comedy Lucky Grandma or the harrowing human rights drama Clemency. If that weren’t enough, people who purchase tickets to some of the bigger screenings may catch the odd star in attendance; last year I saw Melissa McCarthy, Richard E. Grant, and director Michael Moore, and this year I’m on the lookout for Shia LaBeouf!

Louis Stall
I love the whole vibe of the LFF; being surrounded by other people that are also passionate about film is by itself a totally valid reason to attend. This year I got to see a preview of The Peanut Butter Falcon, I won’t spoil much but it was unbelievably wholesome and definitely worth a watch. I’d definitely recommend not sleeping on the range of documentaries and shorts at LFF this year as I’ve had the opportunity to view so and they are rather spectacular.

Maria Düster
This year, the BFI have really expanded opportunities for students and I recommend going to as much as you can. I’m excited to see independent documentaries – Coup 53, The Orphanage, Give Me Liberty – and headlining films as well, such as Noah Baumbach’s Marriage Story. I’ve been thinking a lot lately about the relationship between truth and fiction in film, specifically documentary, and I’m interested to see how filmmakers are tackling that this year.

The BFI London Film Festival runs 2 – 13 October 2019. For more information, visit the festival website.

Emma Davis interviews Festival of the Moving Image 2019’s producer Thomas Caulton.

There hasn’t been a Festival of the Moving Image (FOMI) since 2016, but producer Thomas Caulton has spent the past year resurrecting it. He’s come a long way from the humble weekly Monday screenings. So, I sat down with Tom (on a lovely empty day in the Student Centre) to learn about what the festival is about, what it takes for students to put it together and how essential IMDB Pro is.

But what makes FOMI worth it for an audience? “The fact that it’s really easy to just come along, watch these big well-known classics. It’s a nice opportunity for students to see things on the big screens that you may not get a chance to see again,” Thomas says. He emphasises how accessible they have attempted to make it, with his passion for the titles evident in his voice. “I think with film societies, people often worry that it will be quite niche or quite indie or whatever. These films have come and gone, you can watch them on your phone or you can watch them at the theatre. We know that cinema, like the cinema institution, is dying with the rise of Netflix and streaming. But, it’s really nice to be able to go to a theatre and to watch a film.”

The Festival of the Moving Image 2019 presents five films and a short film festival taking place 30th May to 1st June. This year’s theme is ‘UNDERGROUND AND KEPT FAR DOWN’. Pitched by its director Hassan Sherif, he wrote that, “The theme opened doors to different dark and dynamic cinematic styles. For instance, the immediate intensity of There Will Be Blood (2008), often set literally underground, uses realism in its contrast between the below and above to capture the deteriorating mental state of our antihero. While steering away from realism with a more obviously fantastical and hellish environment, Pan’s Labyrinth (2006), just like There Will Be Blood, still maintains an association of the underground with a nightmarish environment.” Other feature films on the programme include City of God (2002), You Were Never Really Here (2017) and Mike Leigh’s latest Peterloo with the director-screenwriter’s Q&A.

Bringing Mike Leigh himself to the Bloomsbury Theatre — how did the team pull that bit of networking off? “IMDB Pro. We used IMDB Pro.” Thomas is dead serious. “You get the free trial with your email, and make sure you cancel it before the end of the month.” For the year’s work the FOMI team have done, they otherwise would have had to pay $149 USD for the service. They had a massive document with London-based film industry professionals, ready to contact every position and connection. “It just takes a lot of perseverance and usually, they will be relatively receptive. You just have to talk a lot. Make it seem like they wanna come, and they should. It’s a great event.” This does not sound easy. “And obviously, you get lots of people who are interested but they’re busy people. Those are for next year I’ve got them under my belt. I’m very excited for the prospect of next year’s FOMI.”

And often, Tom highlights, “They’re just generous with their time.”

What would Tom’s personal choice be, without budgetary or industry constraints, his dream guests? “Darren Aronofsky, a director I love. He’d be really interesting. Cate Blanchett is very eloquent and she’s great on stage, saw her recently. There’s so many people I would have!” Even with these fanciful notions, Thomas is still thinking about what would serve university students and fulfil the festival’s appeal. “There’s so many options and people that could come along who would be interesting, just talking to students.”

Getting people to come speak at the festival was the biggest worry. “That was a long long lengthy process. The fact that we had two by the end, was great!” Thomas emphasises. This was before Steven Knight’s unfortunate cancelling due to scheduling conflicts. There is some wisdom in the madness of the FOMI’s team efforts – interacting with the film industry can be intimidating. Despite the UCL Film Society’s prestigious history and alumni, the good reputation of UCL and the West End accredited Bloomsbury Theatre, there was still a lot of work required. “If you can craft a good email. It’s essential. Being able to speak eloquently, especially on the phone. If you can sound professional, if you can talk. I talk and non-stop. Then they’re more likely to take you seriously, and you can have a sort of tone or almost even bluff that you’re being professional.”

Thomas also has no qualms about how much their team has been through this past year. “Considering the hitches, which have been few and far between, it’s gone quite smoothly.” He has spent most of this interview praising his team. “We just had myself and Hassan, the director. That was it at the start.” His position on this year’s committee was super useful for recruiting. His fellow Screenings Producer, Amelia Christofis, was brought on quickly to compile and organise the short film festival, the last treat of the festival with submissions from university students. “It’s good for people who have made a film: to be proud of it, and to see it on a big screen in a theatre setting, which may not come around everyday for a student filmmaker.”

Through her, Tom met Maria Düster. “I was at a FemFilm meeting — just happened to be there, as a man — and Maria was there. She’s been great at marketing and doing an amazing job since.” She was joined by committee members Xinyi Wang (Blog & Podcast Editor in Chief) and Sebastian Van Der Ree (Marketing & Communications). And of course, he has immense gratitude for the ongoing support of this year’s President and Treasurer. “Money has always been the toughest,” says Thomas, but Misan Aviomoh and Demi Hao were always around.

Festival of the Moving Image 2019 will take place from May 30th to June 1st. Buy your tickets now on The Bloomsbury’s website! Each screening is only £3. Book for all screenings and pay only £10 at the checkout.

Emma Davis compiles a handy guide for your cinematic expenses in London Town. 

Welcome to London, one of the most expensive cities to live in but nonetheless an incredible cultural student location. Going to the movies sure is a treat, but it’s an expensive one. If you watch movies frequently, how will your bank account keep up with your habit?

This guide is for freshers and students alike. Students are always looking for deals, so here at FilmSoc, we provide:

BFI 25 & Under (£3 tickets)

These discounted tickets are only available on the day of the screening, and you can book online or buy them in person at BFI Southbank. Styled as Britain’s home of cinema, the venue has everything — latest releases, special screenings, Q&A events, a library, a free archive viewing room, and a shop. Even London Film Festival events are hosted there!

Sign up for the BFI 25 & Under Scheme here.

Genesis Cinema (£5 tickets & unlimited)

Ticket prices at this Mile End Cinema vary by event, as some are hosted by the cinema and some from others who hire the venue. You can get the Student £5 price from Monday to Wednesday, but it rises to £7.50 Thursday to Sunday.

There are also concession prices for students in their annual membership for unlimited access.

Curzon Student (£6 tickets)

The Curzon Student Membership is free to sign up for. The £6 ticket prices only apply before 5pm on weekdays. Otherwise, you only get a slight discount on weekends and evenings.

The scheme doesn’t give you the perks of its paid member schemes like discounted food or second tickets. However, you still get news about events by the cinema chain!

Find out more here.

Young Barbican (£5 tickets)

The Barbican is a world class arts centre and is kind to students! Signing up for their Young Barbican scheme entitles you to not only cheaper movie screenings, but cheaper access to other creative events.

Find out more here.

NUS x ODEON Cinemas (25% off)

The NUS card (now known as the TOTUM card) needs to be bought (from £12 to £32, depend on the length of membership). However, this gets you a heavy discount on tickets at ODEON cinemas. This discount only applies in certain conditions, and you cannot buy your tickets online. In my experience, it’s also a hassle for ODEON staff to put the discount through.

See the conditions for the student discount here.

Prince Charles Cinema (£1 tickets!)

This is not a student-specific scheme, but £1 tickets are still a bargain. The Prince Charles Cinema is an iconic venue, show a whole range of movies and hosting events — including the famous regular The Room screenings with Tommy Wiseau and Greg Sestero!

Find out more about PCC membership here.

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Outside physical theatres, here are also some alternative options to streaming services.

CLIE Database

As a UCL student, you are entitled access to CLIE’s Self Access Movie Database. If you’re learning a language, there is plenty of foreign language movies available. However, there is also a great selection of English-language films from recent releases to classic movies.

Log in with your UCL account here.

MUBI

This is a paid service, where films are curated for viewing everyday. It also acts a social network for rate and share movies. However, if you sign up with your UCL email, you can access a free selection of films.

Sign up for the MUBI Film Schools Programme here.

Don’t forget that FilmSoc also holds our own screenings! Follow our Facebook page to be updated with the events as they happen all year round.

Emma Davis reviews the first major Hollywood production over the past 20 years with an all-Asian cast.

This is the pop culture event that the Asian diaspora has been waiting for. An Asian triple threat with the director, writer, and cast being completely Asian — this has not been seen in Hollywood since The Joy Luck Club (1993). Crazy Rich Asians is a modern update of beloved Jane Austen elements such as a witty protagonist, romance with a wealthy noble, and navigating structured social norms. However, instead of Georgian Britain, the social structure is Chinese family values.

Our protagonist Rachel (Constance Wu) is invited by her boyfriend Nick (Henry Golding) to visit his family and hometown, Singapore. She then discovers that her boyfriend is the heir to a family fortune and there is a whole dynasty of wild personalities, including her boyfriend’s mother Eleanor (the legendary Michelle Yeoh), who disapproves of her. Drama ensues.

The movie leads up to a jaw-dropping wedding between Nick’s friends, Colin and Araminta. Even with scene after scene of opulence, the movie still manages to find a way to show how rich these characters are and bring a real life fairytale to an already romantic movie. This is the work of Jon M. Chu, a director whose filmography includes Justin Bieber: Never Say Never, some Step Up films and Now You See Me 2; who successfully makes this movie a visual delight. It’s a dazzling cinematic view of Singapore and that almost seem like a two hour commercial for the country’s tourist board. One of my favourite scenes takes place in a Singaporean food market, or locally known as a hawker centre – it was so immersive in the sights and sounds of Asian food culture, and the love of one’s home food, which made me immediately think of Ang Lee’s Eat Drink Man Woman.

Unfortunately, it still feels as if Singapore was more of a backdrop than a setting, as the plot is driven by the ideological clash of Western individualism and Confucian values. Little draws itself to Singapore’s culture, which could be defined by Singaporean English/’Singlish’ (present in the novel but missing in the film), the incredible community feeling of its successful public housing (replaced by illogical mansions in the world’s densest city), and diversity in the ethnic groups that live together.

On the topic of ethnic diversity, the colourism in this film is insidious. South East Asians are native to the film’s setting, but darker skinned extras are relegated to subservient roles like maids and masseuses. A particular scene ruins the fun: Rachel and her friend from college Peik-Lin drive up to the Young family’s ancestral home, secluded in the hills away from the city. They are stopped by the estate’s guards, and the Chinese women are terrified of them. These guards are Sikh and do not speak (literal “subaltern” much?). Frightening music plays as they show a close-up on this darker-skinned character’s face – I was appalled at this. Perhaps this scene was to show how exclusive and “crazy rich” Nick’s family is to have guards, but this would be a poor excuse for a film that aimed to show Asians in a positive light while feeding into rampant colourism that haunts Asian cultures. Racism in Singapore does not need to be validated like this.

The movie takes a biting satirical novel about economic standing into a cultural statement on diaspora, with its plot driven by the cultural conflict of western individualism versus the filial piety. While the novel explores many characters’ perspectives, the movie dilutes the conflict to one main clash: Rachel is very Asian in the States, but too American for her boyfriend’s Asian family. Thus, this is what makes it an Asian-American film rather than a purely Asian affair. Rachel’s mother reminds her that she is Chinese, but she uses the term 華人 (huá rén, ‘ethnically Chinese’) as opposed to 中國人 (zhōngguó rén, ‘someone from China’). Chinese identity is closely tied to a motherland, but even so, Rachel is as Chinese as she wants without a geographic home.

Demonstrated through the visually stunning character of Jon M. Chu’s direction and its incredible box office success, Crazy Rich Asians is a shining example that Asian stories are worth telling.

Crazy Rich Asians is now released on UK screens everywhere. Check out its trailer below:

Emma Davis considers Molly Dineen’s documentary about the Brixton neighbourhood icon ahead of its premiere on BBC2 tonight.

In Molly Dineen’s latest documentary Being Blacker, Brixton is the undercurrent to the life and philosophy of Blacker Dread. There is plenty inspiration to take from London’s people, places and its spirit. Even UCL’s own student productions of Brick Lane in Flux and Heimweh tackled the social consequences of Britain’s cultural and economic behemoth. It was easy to assume that this would be about Brixton’s changing identity – gentrification is a hot topic to discuss. But when Dineen focuses on Blacker, some more universal themes such as love, family, death, and masculinity come to light.

So, who is Blacker Dread? Most people in the audience at the March 5th BFI screening would know the answer to this, many being from Brixton. From his records shopfront, he would invite the community in any reason. People have fond memories of searching for their favourite reggae record, watching (and celebrating) Usain Bolt’s Olympic achievements, or accepting his offer to keep an eye on the youth when they encountered police. He is a cultural and social figurehead for the London district, with achievements in the reggae industry, and even met Nelson Mandela on his 1996 visit to Britain. Being Blacker, however, approaches our mythical hero by humanising him. 

We meet Blacker’s oldest friend, Napthali, and his family, who are all affected by the loss of their matriarch in Blacker’s mother. However, as the events unfold, the intimacy and bond between individuals is unforgettable. The documentary has a home-movie feel. That is how the film began in its practical origins – Blacker had asked for a recording of his mother’s funeral from Dineen, a home-video that establishes the film’s core themes and catalyses the narrative course. After that, Dineen follows Blacker around his home and his shop, but she falls into the background easily, allowing the audience to get absorbed into the stakes of Blacker and those around him. At times, it is a little difficult to piece together the particular chronological point in film’s linear structure. Even so, Dineen’s flow is still smooth. 

Unlike my own expectations, politics was not the forefront. When an audience member in the Q&A session asked if Blacker would pursue politics, he replied by indicating that he is more interested in mentoring and cultivating talent. Love is key to understanding Blacker – not only does it come from his belief in Rastafari, but how also in how he treats others. He is certain about who he cares for and it’s shown what he does for them. Blacker sacrifices for his own, and they do so in return. He is quite a character, but he has quite the heart as well.

And most bluntly, there is a challenge to the idea of happy immigration. His family attest to how he has a stronger affinity with Jamaica. From his own experience to his youngest son, life in Britain is not an opportunity, but a hindrance. The focus on Blacker and his son, and then some moments with Napthali, bring issues of masculinity to light. His son lives in Jamaica, thriving socially and academically, unlike in the UK where he was deemed a disruption. Napthali struggles to find employment with his criminal record and reflects on providing for his family. Blacker talks of ‘failure’ when people fall into crime: with family, with the state, or somewhere else. He denounces education as pillar for success (traditionally, what immigrants would rely on for social mobility) or political correctness to help form identity, but doesn’t refuse these for others. This intersection, between masculine success and Britain’s post-colonial legacy, is powerful.

Dineen’s last films were ten years ago, and her return to filmmaking is coupled with a return to her student film days when she made her first film about Blacker and his involvement with the reggae sound system culture of the 1980s. When an audience member called for a filmmaker like Dineen to make more films about underrepresented social topics, her response cites her responsibility as a parent. While the BFI so keenly promoted the support and purchasing of the work by female filmmakers before the screening started, there is still progress for female-made films to have a chance. There are obstacles in these films being made, not just for their distribution and consumption.  

But certainly, the honest and intimate filmmaking of Being Blacker shines many truths. There are uncomfortable moments. The start is an actual funeral, and the privilege of Dineen attending the family affair is extended to the audience. Blacker and Naphtali experience their own difficulties in the years after, trying to make the best despite a society and its institutions stacked against them. There is some whiplash when confronted with current British youth. After being lulled in the experience and wisdom of older people like Blacker, Napthali and his family; there is a reminder of the institutional and physical violence against young Black British men now.

Whether or not you are an ethnic minority in the UK, it is quite easy to see that there are parts of Britain missing from mainstream exposure. Dineen revealed that it was difficult to release the documentary, as an executive said portraying Black British people as being involved with crime and violence was generalisation. This is hypocritical. If there were more content out there, there would be more instances for audience to reduce for their generalisations. As such, it is important to watch this observation of British life. Keep in mind, that it is a single British life — the experience of a singular Jamaican British man, very localised to the Brixton context. Such specificity doesn’t demean its importance, but rather elevates it, and there is still something universal to be found. 

Being Blacker airs on BBC2 on March 12th at 9pm.

Emma Davis curates a list of films about university life and industrial action in the spirit of the USS strike.

For the past two weeks, universities all over the country came to a sudden standstill as UCU strikes take place. As students, it’s a personal choice as to what one can do: take to the picket lines and stand with lecturers, become angry at the proposed pension scheme, write an angry email to management, sign a petition, voice your opposition to it all… or, kick back and watch something.

The FilmSoc Blog team presents a variety of films about university life and industrial action — fourteen films for fourteen days, a suggestion for each striking day passed. If you’ve got a lecture cancelled, consider loading up any of the films below and get into the mood in a more cinematic way.

1. Newsies (1992)

A baby Christian Bale leads New York City’s newspaper boys for better pay into a strike that also lasts two weeks. A feel-good film to start with, beaming with positivity as we’re still positive that the USS might negotiate and consider the pension demands. Unfortunately, you can’t expect academic staff to pull out a musical number at the picket line.

2. Pride (2014)

If you’ve got so many lectures cancelled and haven’t been outside since, there’s a few cheeky shots of recognisable London to remind you what Bloomsbury is like. This is a cute yet powerful film that transports you back to the 1980s with the striking miners in Wales and their unlikely solidarity with gay activists.

3. Good Will Hunting (1997)

In the magical land of movies, universities fund their mental health services and care for their students’ wellbeing. Robin Williams played an inspiring teacher in Dead Poets Society as well, so please remember how hard your lecturers work to educate you. It’s not their fault.

4. The Theory of Everything (2014)

Just like certain lecturecast uploads, no one seemed to have watched this film when it originally came out in 2014. That’s all the more reason to revisit the award-winning beautiful work, where Eddie Redmayne plays Stephen Hawking, who could not have achieved his success if not for the support of his professor (David Thewlis). Dive into the romanticised world of academia and get a glimpse of that sweet Oxbridge life without management taking away pensions.

5. The Man Who Knew Infinity (2015)

A movie that’s not The Theory of Everything, there’s nothing like celebrating London’s global university with the story of why diversity in higher education matters. Universities mistreating their academics? What a concept only reserved for movies like this, based on a true story.

6. Made in Dagenham (2010)

It’s a cracking, feel-good, educational flick that’s one of the best of its kind. Sally Hawkins teams up with a bunch of stalwart Brit character actors for women’s rights in 1960s London to demand their rightful pay.

7. Billy Elliot (2000)

The miners’ strike is the background to this film, but there are still themes of resistance and empathy in Billy’s individual struggle to accept his passion and prove it to those around him. Like students, Billy is just trying to chase his dream while those around him are too busy worrying about bigger things, like striking.

8. Hunger (2008)

Michael Fassbender stars as Bobby Sands, an IRA freedom fighter who goes on a hunger strike to protest the British government. You don’t have to starve yourself to death like Bobby does, but the movie could provide some good inspiration if you support the strike and are experiencing any instances of hopelessness.

9. On the Waterfront (1954)

A fantastic look into the corruption and union violence plaguing longshoremen in Hoboken, New Jersey, Marlon Brando stars as Terry Mallory, a misfit dockworker with a heart of gold. If you love young Brando’s face, vaguely inspirational storylines, and bragging to your friends about how many AFI movies you’ve watched, this is the movie for you!

10. Educating Rita (1983)

Directed by the late Lewis Gilbert, Educating Rita tells the story of a young, uneducated woman determined to study literature at university (Julie Walters) and her friendship with an increasingly jaded college professor (Michael Caine). A charming and funny film about the real value of education, despite the questionable soundtrack.

11. The Great Debaters (2007)

This film centres around a group of black students at Wiley College in rural Texas, who must battle discrimination and injustice as they work to make their voices heard and challenge the primarily white world of college debating. Denzel Washington plays their debate coach and secretly works as a farmer and worker union organiser, looking handsome all the while.

12. The Source/La source des femmes (2011)

The women of a small North-African village go on a sex strike because their husbands don’t want to fetch water for everyone. A modern and touching transposing of the Greek comedy Lysistrata, where the power structures are turned upside down by those with the least power. It’s a good reminder how effective it is to withhold necessities like water, sex, and an undisrupted education.

13. Modern Times (1936)

When Charlie Chaplin’s unsuspecting Little Tramp wanders into strikes — as many students have done so reach university facilities — his clumsiness and good intentions lead him to be the inadvertent spearhead of a worker’s march and a worker’s riot. The film sketches out a troubling period of economic problems, the loss of jobs, and the plight of the workers on strike with sensitivity and humour.

14. The Square/Al midan (2013)

Restless and ready to fight, members of the union have been tested for a long time on their pay and pensions. If you aren’t ready to start a revolution after watching this documentary on the 2011 Egyptian Revolution or restless after fourteen days without class — well, at least you’ve spent good time watching fourteen films.

If these films about the struggles in higher education or political resistance are too much, you can also go through the entire High School Musical trilogy for some lighter viewing instead.

Special thanks to Maria Düster, Calvin Law, Madeleine Haslam, Raphael Duhamel, and Liam Donovan for movie suggestions and additional writing. 

To support your striking lecturers, find out more information here.