American Hustle

The cuckoo in this award season's nest is American Hustle, a big, glossy, mess of a crime caper, stealing Oscar buzz from the more serious dramatic contenders with its smart writing, incredible performances, style and humour.

On one level, the film goes for larger-than-life, and featuring flamboyant performances from practically the whole cast, looks like it was as much fun to make as it is to watch.  Despite a slightly over-long running time, American Hustle holds attention with witty, fast-paced dialogue and over the top glamour - the seventies never looked so good!

Despite the polish, this isn't style over substance: there's an appealingly seedy flavour, a gritty truth behind the slickness, which ensures comparisons to The Sting ¹ rather than Ocean's Eleven - and just in case you hadn't picked up on the tone, one of the characters spells it out, in a soliloquy to nail polish!

It's exactly this sense of comic self-awareness which makes American Hustle such a great viewing experience.  Because we like them, our sympathies are firmly with the criminal protagonists, even when they're pulling off sleazy cons: so when the drama escalates, the laughs keep the roller coaster on the rails, in this topsy-turvy world where the crooks are more ethical than the cops, a mistress is a more loyal partner than a wife, and a politician facing charges is the most honest person in the room.

A life of crime beginning to appeal? There's a completely different pair of confidence tricksters in Dirty Rotten Scoundrels, a comedy starring Michael Caine and Steve Martin competing for attention, (and money,) along the French Riveria.

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1 The Sting was also nominated for ten Academy Awards, and came away with seven, including 1974's Best Picture, Best Original Screenplay and Best Director. ^↩

Saving Mr Banks

Everyone knows how the story is supposed to go: an author writes a bestseller, a film studio acquires the rights, and hey, presto: bestseller becomes blockbuster. Sometimes, though, getting to that point isn't so simple, and Saving Mr Banks brings us behind the scenes of some very tricky negotiations - Walt Disney's efforts to secure the Mary Poppins film rights from her creator, P.L Travers, (Mrs.)

Although of course, that's not entirely true. We're actually behind the scenes of negotiations scripted beautifully for the characters of Walt Disney and Mrs Travers, with several layers of adaptation at work behind them.

The filmmakers, who had access to the originals of the recorded conversations featured in the film, have freely admitted that their P.L is a spoonful-of-sugar creation herself, because likeability could otherwise have been an issue. It does seem everyone who worked with her thought Mrs Travers a cantankerous old b., but the film comes up with reasons and excuses for her behaviour, (otherwise known as flashbacks,) rather than actually delving in to the frequently exclaimed fact that for twenty odd years Disney pursued her relentlessly, refused to take no for an answer - and that when he'd finally backed her into a corner, either overruled or ignored her final conditions to the sale. Now who's "difficult"?

But they had a script, the purpose of which is to become a film, and the other half of the equation is that although Saving Mr Banks was written independently, the only studio that could possibly have made it was Disney. So, while there's an impressive amount of attempting-to-be-true-to-life leniency with their iconic founder's image, (Disney smoked!) it's obvious we're getting a toned down, shaped up, family friendly image here, too.

Frequent moments of comic gold are mined by Emma Thompson's prickly P.L Travers, a fish out of water who's trying to cope by depriving the other fish of water, too. Tom Hanks injects Disney with just a little too much affability to really be a good guy, which is a nice touch, hinting at deeper conflicts. All in all, though, this is a romp, and enjoyable as such: everybody's favourite film about everybody's favourite magical nanny!


Hollywood does tend to get its own way a lot of the time. For a dark, gloriously cynical look at a writer lured to his destruction in the City of Angels, get sucked into the world of Barton Fink, an early classic from the Coen Brothers.

Philomena

An emotional British/Irish drama directed by Stephen Frears, based on a heartbreaking true story, and featuring Judi Dench in the title role, the film adaptation of Philomena was destined for attention.  And it is a solid enough drama, worth a watch - it's just that the film is so clearly less valuable than its components, the combination of which ensured it was catapulted into awards contention anyway.

That's not to say Philomena doesn't give you a giggle or encourage a few tears while uncovering a story which deserves to be told, but it does beg the question: what story is it trying to tell? A number of important issues, worthy of exploration, are thrown up in the course of Philomena's journey to find her long-lost son - yet the film skims over them. At times it seems the story is guided by the emotive Oscar nominated score, rather than the other way around.

The culture clash between sweet, disenfranchised Philomena and the arrogant journalist, Sixsmith, is played out for laughs, rather than a lingering symptom of the class system which is partly responsible for Philomena's troubles in the first place. A meal is made out of Sixsmith's emotional growth, but said 'growth' boils down to scenes of him tolerating conversation he doesn't enjoy and the massive sacrifice of deciding (twice!) to accede to Philomena's wishes, which (twice!) she's naturally already aligned to match his. Not much of an evolution.

Wrapped at the core of the film is fact that women and children were treated extremely badly by institutions like the Catholic Church, which ruined lives and created tragedies under the guise of helping the vulnerable. But the Church does not have a monopoly on causing pain: the ongoing efforts of these mothers and their children to find each other should certainly be recognised, as should human rights abuses all around the world.

The difference in this story, and where the film could have elevated itself on its own merits, is the attitude of Philomena Lee to her personal experience. She comes to a conclusion stunning in its simplicity, which could have been the whole point of the film - but it's wasted, the important moment immediately numbed by cheap emotion, then comedic babble. It's hard not to be cross with a film which could have been even better than its reputation, but which, despite laughing at pop culture, still chose commercial sentimentality over considered reflection.

Another well-regarded film based on a true story and featuring Judi Dench is Iris, a love story through life, which is not an easy watch, but features superlative performances from four fantastic actors all at their very best. Co-starring Jim Broadbent in an Oscar-winning role, supported by Kate Winslet and Hugh Bonneville.

August: Osage County

With a cast of luminaries and a screenplay of crackling dialogue, (adapted by Tracy Letts from his award-winning play,) family drama August: Osage County was surrounded by awards buzz while still in production.

Unfortunately, when released, the hype died down and the critical reviews piled up... I think understandably. It's a difficult film to describe, especially since I did have such a good time watching it.

The characters, (gathering for a family reunion, of sorts,) are stylised caricatures, yet somehow weirdly true to life.  And the things they say! I honestly don't think I've ever heard such incredible dialogue in a modern movie, with the rapid-fire delivery of perfect insults reminiscent of a forties screwball - except that here, the gloves are off and the swear jar's been smashed to pieces.

The ensemble cast inhabit their roles well, with several standout performances, (ironically enough most of the cast showing up the leading lady, whose flashy, overinflated performance has notched up another Oscar nod anyway, because, hey, it's Meryl Streep.) The characters' shifting alliances, tendency to the macabre and constant friction are a deliciously saucy blend.

It's just that this fine sauce covers a pretty rancid story. The frequent dramatics can only disguise the rapid downward descent in tone for so long, before it's a dark whirlpool dragging everyone down. Perhaps that was the point, or perhaps there are layers in the stage play missing in the film - but I found certain plot reveals repugnant in their unbelievability, and the obvious back-engineering to make various issues more palatable had the opposite effect.

Despite this, there's just something about August: Osage County that's worth a visit, whether it's the cathartic bliss of Julia Roberts losing her shit so spectacularly, visions of the sweltering heat of the Oklahoma plains, ("a spiritual affliction, like the Blues"), or the realisation there's no human on Earth who hasn't been screwed up by their parents.

Not sold, or looking for a dysfunctional family movie that's a little less Chinatown, and a little more Parenthood? Try recent classic Little Miss Sunshine, a Best Picture nominee and the winner of the 2007 Oscar for Best Original Screenplay.

The Lost Weekend

Handsome, up-and-coming writer Don Birnam is being taken away for the weekend, but at the last minute, manages to dodge his attentive girlfriend and long-suffering brother.  The people who care about him out of the way, The Lost Weekend belongs to Don's true love: alcohol.

With a screenplay adapted from Charles R. Jackson's semi-autobiographical novel and Billy Wilder directing, The Lost Weekend became a smash hit, despite its formerly taboo subject - and it has stood the test of time remarkably well.

The success is in large part due to the film's uncompromising take on an alcoholic's behaviour.  Brilliantly portrayed by Ray Milland in an Oscar-winning performance, Don is a man broken by his desire for liquor and willing to go to any lengths for a drink - yet his descent into cunning manipulation, petty thievery and thuggery never becomes silly or mawkish, and the use of stylised monologues and flashbacks to allow the audience access to his thoughts is clever, without being melodramatic.

Barely striking a false note, (the exception perhaps being the film's slightly suspect but understandable conclusion,) The Lost Weekend was something quite different for Wilder, but as the Best Director, Actor, Adapted Screenplay, and Best Picture Oscars attested, it was exceedingly well done.

For crazed, comedic, and darkly melancholic take on addiction, look no further than cult 80's film Withnail & I.  Withnail and his roommate are actors struggling for recognition, living in a scuzzy flat and abusing any substance that comes their way.  Featuring an utterly electrifying performance from Richard E. Grant as the self-destructive Withnail.

Ordinary People

A must-watch due to its pedigree as the winner of Best Picture, Director, Adapted Screenplay and Supporting Actor at the 1981 Academy Awards, I hadn't actually any idea what Ordinary People was about until reading the synopsis on the case.  It was with a slight sense of dread I wondered what I was letting myself in for, but I was rewarded with something subtly remarkable.

Robert Redford's directorial debut is a quiet drama, packed with explosive moments.  Pacing slowly through the opening, Ordinary People allows the audience to piece together its subject matter one strained conversation or nightmare flashback at a time, until it's apparent we're exploring a changed family dynamic after a tragic death.

Naturally, it's emotional, but the authentic tone and sensitive handling avoids melodrama or sentimentality.  The characters truly are ordinary, next door types, (albeit in a very nice neighbourhood!) with real worries and problems, ripped apart by their differing ways of dealing with their grief.

Delving into the ways they handle their feelings and examining guilt, avoidance, over-compensation, openness and deflection, Ordinary People takes place in a time when it wasn't "nice" to talk about your problems, and brings to the fore the need for communication, even when it's hard to talk.  A brilliant take on grief and depression.

If Ordinary People looks at grief and communication amongst teens and adults, sweetly nostalgic Stand By Me does the same for children.  Again, it's the loss of an older brother overshadowing the story, but in this case, it's twelve-year-old Gordie's friends who pull him through.

To Sir, With Love

Set at a tough high school in London's East End, at the tail end of the swinging sixties, To Sir, With Love is tagged as heavy-hitting social drama.  It stars Sidney Poitier as a out of work engineer who takes a temporary teaching post to tide himself over, and singer Lulu, as one of the class, performs a soaring theme song of adolescent angst and gratitude.

I was amused to find the film much less dramatic than I had expected.  That's not to say it doesn't address tough issues - it does, and they are still current, the characters negotiating violence, racism, sex, poverty, and death, as well as the difficulty of being taken seriously by adults.  The issues of growing up, then, haven't changed much since 1967 - but the behaviour presented as so shocking is sweetly dated - the dreadful teens seemed to me almost sweet by today's standards!

However, this is a film with great heart, and Poitier's teacher-turned-advisor gaining the respect of his class, giving wayward youths lashing out against their own helplessness a sense of personal responsibilty, and even provoking change in a fairly reactionary community, is a lovely thing to watch.

A good teacher - student relationship can be hugely important in a teenager's life.  That relationship in Half Nelson begins when a troubled student discovers her charismatic young teacher struggles with a drug addiction.  A deft blend of social commentary, sensitive performances and hopeful spirit.