Maria Cunningham reviews Christopher Nolan’s latest mind-bending blockbuster.

Christopher Nolan’s Tenet, the first major blockbuster to be released since lockdown, is quite simply an incredible film. Nolan continuously manages to come out with ground-breaking pieces of cinema, and the film is in keeping with his track-record of mind-boggling, impressive films. This film is Nolan’s Bond: taking the elements of Bond that we love, and putting Nolan’s jaw-dropping, complex twists on it.

Tenet’s main theme is ‘inversion’, a temporal concept used to explain the backwards movement of objects in time. In it, John David Washington’s character (the unnamed Protagonist) attempts to investigate the strange new black-market technology of ‘inverting the entropy’ of people and objects in the hope of preventing the apocalypse, which is later revealed to be called the ‘Algorithm’ – a piece of technology that could catastrophically invert the entire world.

From the beginning, the audience is plunged into a whirlwind world of action and deceit. After a failed siege, a secret organisation known as Tenet is revealed to the Protagonist, which operates around saving the human race from the end of the world. Barbara (Clemence Posey), a scientist, explains the concept of inversion to him using reversed bullets, which shoot back into the gun from a wall with the words ‘You’re not throwing the bullet. You’re catching it” – and it is from here that we are thrust into the central narrative of the film.

The film’s heart lies in a conflict between two narrative threads. Firstly, you have the Protagonist and Neil (Robert Pattinson) – the charming and soft-spoken second to Washington’s character who comes up with brilliant and wacky plans, resembling a character from Oceans Eleven dropped in a straight-faced action film. The second thread is the abusive and loveless marriage of arms dealer Andrei Sator (Kenneth Branagh), and his wife Kat (Elizabeth Debicki), which is heartbreaking and intimate, and the possibility of their involvement in the manufacturing of the technology. 

The different acts are structured brilliantly, and evoke very different moods. The first act is relatively slow paced and mainly focuses on intimate conversations and exposition. The lighting and cinematography is relatively soft during the conversation scenes, representing the intimacy and importance of these characters and what they are revealing. Nolan structures the second act in a much more brash way – everything becomes much harsher and more complex to follow, but the the spy scenes are regardless are effortlessly and smoothly carried out.

This juxtaposes the third act, which is dark, action-paced, and deliberately confusing to follow. The lighting and visual effects are phenomenal and serve to highlight the chaos. Inverted scenes are lit with a red glow and juxtaposed with the blue lighting that dictates the forward passage of time. One of the best scenes in the film is an intense interrogation scene featuring Kat, the Protagonist and Sator. The lighting and cinematography of this scene is fantastic, with the interrogation happening both in the inverted and forward timeline, the red and blue lighting of the rooms highlighting the different timeframes – a very confusing and intense scene. It is the time inversion scenes like this that make Tenet a cinematic masterpiece, especially considering the majority of scenes were created by practical effects. The ‘time inversion’ sequences were captured in both forward and backward mobility, with practical effects and real explosions also used where necessary – including shots of buildings exploding, and then imploding due to inversion. Inverted scenes were filmed with the inverted characters separate from the others, and the footage reversed and edited back onto the rest of the footage; an old technique, but one that is incredibly effective, especially when compared and seen in a different perspective later in the film. It is this that makes the film chaotic and confusing at times, but the film merely requires a bit of patience. 

Despite all the complicated action sequences, character relationships and development are also important to this film and part of why it is enjoyable beyond the technical and philosophical complexities. A standout moment in the film is an intimate conversation between the Protagonist and Kat in a restaurant, where Kat explains how she is ‘trapped’ in her marriage, and is not allowed to see her son often. The writing is soft but fast-paced, and juxtaposed with beautifully-shot scenes of her last attempt to keep the marriage alive – a romantic moment on a yacht in Vietnam. The way the Robert Pattison and Elizabeth Debecki develop their characters throughout the film are inspiring; Neil is revealed to be a much more competent and involved character than his first disarming appearance would suggest, and Kat grows into a very strong female character, who is integral to the plot and to the plans to prevent the apocalypse. This transition is unexpected, yet welcome, as she rises from a trapped lonely woman to something much more, yet still keeps her femininity and her own motivations and character, instead of being regulated to a background character. 

This film is, at its core, an action film. The score, often deafening at times adds to the whirlwind of narrative and action that the audience gets swept into. Again, Nolan has surpassed expectations, and created a niche for himself in the spy action genre with a film that never fails to surprise, enthrall and excite, and marvel at the depth of his imagination and talent. The film’s plot has many complexities and to be fully understood should be given a second viewing, but the film is enjoyable on a personal level even without fully understanding its technicalities. It leaves you wanting more from the characters and the plot, but in a very tantalizing way that you know you’ve only seen a glimpse of this world, and that maybe this mystery is what makes the film so spectacular.

Tenet is currently showing in UK cinemas. Watch the trailer here:

Lydia De Matos reviews Kaufman’s latest experimental thriller.

A young couple is on their way to the guy’s parents’ house. They’ve only been together for six weeks. Or is it seven? They’re unsure. Nothing is certain, not even her name; it’s Lucy, or maybe Louisa, it might even be Yvonne. This is their first roadtrip together. She says they have a “real connection; a rare and intense attachment” – but the conversation is awkward, stilted. He’s excited for her to meet his parents. She hasn’t even told hers about them. He’s clearly aching for them to be perfect for one another. She’s thinking of ending things. 

Are you confused yet? If not, you will be. Charlie Kaufman’s latest feature, i’m thinking of ending things, is his least accessible yet, embracing the writer/director’s absurdist style and philosophy to an extent that only Netflix’s infamous do-whatever-you-want policy would have allowed. I don’t necessarily mean that as an insult, perhaps just more as a warning to go into this expecting something uniquely Kaufman-esque. 

The film’s emotional bedrock is uncertainty, especially in the first two acts. The film occupies itself with those uncomfortable stretches of time plagued by apprehension; waiting for someone you’re nervous to meet to finally descend the stairs, a car trip with a boyfriend you’re thinking of dumping, approaching a table full of people who are clearly waiting for you. Kaufman elongates these moments and drops us squarely into them, slowly creating an atmosphere of tense anxiety that sinks its claws into you, making it impossible to turn away. The intricately confusing wallpaper backdrop of the opening credits resembles something along the lines of what Charlotte Perkins-Gilman described in The Yellow Wallpaper, suggesting from the very outset that nothing we see is to be trusted. 

Indeed, every detail seems to shift constantly. It’s not only the young woman’s (Jessie Buckley) name that changes, but her major, the colour of her coat, how she met Jake (Jesse Plemons), how she feels about him, even her voice and face. These shifts are occasionally subtle, and occasionally glaring, challenging us to question them. The world around her changes too. Kaufman takes a very literal interpretation of eternalist philosophy; Jake’s parents (Toni Collette and David Thewlis) appear at different stages of their life almost simultaneously, and the young woman feels nostalgic for things that have not yet happened. Things characters say and do are taken wholesale from notable public figures, from the criticism of Pauline Kael to the paintings of Ralph Albert Blakelock, spoken and presented as though completely, spontaneously original. 

The film’s litany of references seems to be one only the most cultured intelligentsia-type would feel comfortable peppering in, or more accurately, the kind of person who desperately wants to be one of those cultured intelligentsia-types. The kind of person who corners you at a party, purely aesthetic cigarette in hand, starting a conversation about the essays of David Foster Wallace, but inevitably ending up talking about the crushing shame they still feel about having only gotten a participation trophy at their secondary school prizegiving. 

On the surface Kaufman seems to be making a fairly boring critique of the inauthenticity of modern times, the disconnect between our thoughts and our actions, our lack of original thought, something like that. But the further you get into the film, the more it feels like he’s deriding the kind of person who actually believes that such a critique is either pertinent or unique; the kind of person who needs to feel like the smartest in the room, a cut above the unwashed masses and their supposed disregard for “high culture”. The kind of person who oh so desperately needs their opinions to be validated that they’re incapable of connecting with the people around them. If you’ve seen anything else by Kaufman, you’ll recognise the pattern: he’s writing about himself. 

If that seems like a lot to throw at your actors, well, it is. But the whole cast handles it fantastically. Buckley in particular effortlessly attunes her performance to every deviation in tone and character no matter how minor or major. Jay Wadley’s score and ballet is brilliant, shifting from minimalistic terror to uplifting wonder with an ease that makes me question why I’d not heard of him before. 

Truthfully, i’m thinking of ending things is a difficult film. After the first viewing I found myself unable to decide whether it was a meaningful piece of art, or a wall at which everything had been thrown and few things had stuck. But I could not stop thinking about it, and desperately needed to discuss it. Once I’d had a chance to do so, and managed to formulate an interpretation that actually seemed to make sense, I found myself leaning more and more toward loving it and its wonderfully absurd, surreal terror. It may be a difficult film, but if you want to watch something that will stay with you, it is absolutely worth it.

I’m Thinking of Ending Things is now streaming on Netflix. Watch the trailer here:

Alexandra Petrache reviews Olivia Wilde’s anticipated directorial debut.

Director Olivia Wilde does “coming of age” effortlessly and hilariously funny. Amy (Kaitlyn Dever) and Molly (Beanie Feldstein) are two best friends who have spent high school getting the highest honours and studying hard so that they could get into the best US colleges. On their last day of school, Molly realises that they could have also had some fun in the process and convinces (read: forces) Amy to go to one party and make up for the years of shunning their more sociable peers. They go on a fun – and often weird – journey,  find out things about themselves and one another, and bond with their classmates.

The concept itself is not original, but the delivery is. The characters feel fresh, curious and explorative; importantly, they have chemistry. Damn, I want to have a code word with my friends now! Every character introduced in Booksmart has their moment and their backstory – they are all in this together and they are all archetypes we meet in school. Putting everyone’s experiences on an equal footing allows the film a light hearted and natural approach to Amy’s sexuality, too. It is emphasised, but in the same way that every other character’s sexuality is (even teachers get their moment). And for once, this doesn’t seem like an American high-school experience on steroids; it feels relatable and, for someone who went to high school quite a few years ago, nostalgic.

Booksmart finds a natural comparison in Lady Bird (Beanie Feldstein plays the best friend in both). Where Lady Bird felt forced and precious, Booksmart felt natural from beginning to end. Sure, some of the situations the two friends go through seem a bit far-fetched, but they feel right – and so does the progression of the film, the character development, and even the “girl meets boy” part. It doesn’t tell things just for the sake of telling them, it doesn’t aim to be another “rebel without a cause” story or roll its eyes in pastel colours. It feels real, light-hearted and very, very enjoyable!

Written by four females and directed by one, Booksmart is feminist without even trying. Even though the two main characters are female and the film is peppered with supporting female characters, it doesn’t for a moment feel like they’re in it “for the sake of it”. It also has solid male supporting characters with their own stories and voices. As in Lady Bird, those male roles are acted well too. Skyler Gisondo’s Jared was brilliant. At times I was more interested in his character development than in that of the leads. He plays an apparently arrogant spoilt boy with an inane vulnerability that appears from time-to-time, making you wonder whether there is more to him than meets the eye (spoiler: there is).

Booksmart is also humble. For all it’s worth, I did feel that the film’s peaks were reaching some form of a plateau – even the most exciting or interesting moments were sometimes not given enough space to fully develop. This could have gone two ways: make the audience feel unsatisfied, gagged; or make us feel like these moments are part of life and they will pass, because the world doesn’t stop for anyone. I’d say it made me feel a bit of both.

Go see Booksmart. It is an absolute feel-good delight: happy, effervescent, and nostalgic. Every punchline lands effortlessly. Kudos to the writers: Sarah Haskins, Susanna Fogel, Emily Halpern, and Katie Silberman.

This review was originally published here.

Booksmart is currently out in cinemas. Check out the trailer below: