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Movie Reviews

Fifty Shades Freed



Released: 9th February 2018

Directed By: James Foley

Starring: Jamie Dornan, Dakota Johnson

Reviewed By: Van Connor

Perhaps it’s fitting that – given its source material’s origins – the now-complete cinematic adaptation of the Fifty Shades saga can best be compared to the Twilight series of films. Putting aside their interchangeable lead characters and certain behavioural ticks, where they best stack up is in having a first instalment with just enough cinematic heft behind the camera to make a go of it, only to instead settle for churning out cinema’s answer to The CW when it came time for the sequels. Only one of these two, however, can lay the blame for that squarely on the shadow of its own creator’s control. And it ain’t Twilight.

Exercising her directorial oversight and retaining the flavourless eye of once-Glengarry director James Foley, E.L. James’ trilogy closer again utilises the witless foible that is husband Niall Leonard’s feeble pass at screenwriting. This time, though, there’s an added sting in the process – with James’ increasingly trashy and sensationalist plot finding itself smashing headfirst into her screenwriter’s complete void of anything close to self-awareness. The result might want to the new Sliver or something Mickey Rourke would have headlined in the eighties, but it closes out feeling more like an M&S advert with a couple of nip-slips and all the charisma to match.

Dornan continues to sleep-walk his way through playing what he seems increasingly aware is a murder-free Patrick Bateman striken with anhedonia, standing in almost hysterical contrast to the clearly giving-it-her-all Dakota Johnson, whose third go-around as audience proxy-turned-Stockholm-syndrome poster child Ana Steele delivers more of the kind of lip-quivering whisper turn we’ve come to expect three movies in. Former Smallville-paperweight Eric Johnson appears here and there as a salivating psycho – whose own actions somehow pale in comparison to Gray’s – whilst the remainder of the supporting cast largely sit this one out. Most intriguingly of all, and – despite the fanfare surrounding her initial casting last time around – there’s nary a shot of Kim Basinger’s Mrs. Robinson figure to be found. The literal focus of at least one key dramatic sequence, Basinger’s strange omission screams of a relegation to the cutting room floor, only begging the further question of why the three bodies behind the edit on this one couldn’t have done us a favour and cut some of the rest of it out too.

Fans will see – and love – Fifty Shades Freed regardless of what any review has to say on the subject, and rightly so – it’s their franchise after all. For anybody seeing Freed on any kind of narrative, cinematic, or even franchise level, however, the results are hard to defend on any level of real examination. Fifty Shades draws its silver screen incarnation to a close with literally no ambition more than it’s ever had before – for instance, taking the suggestion of BDSM to get the punters in, and then packaging that into what can formulaically be described as two static shots of gold and silver sex toys, followed by some missionary. This, we’re led to believe, is the height of the mainstream erotic thriller – a status quo that could well reduce James Spader to tears if only he cared.

On not only its own level though, Fifty Shades Freed fails to serve on even a required narrative one – with a central “origin mystery” that couldn’t be more glaringly obvious were its end result the actual movie poster, characters who can whittle across entire cities in the blink of an eye, and the sustained repetition whereby a twenty something woman acts independently, gets scolded for it, stands her ground, and is then distracted by something shiny before repeating the process. That’s antagonising, to say the least, but it’s worse that it’s all so boring, that its eroticism is so mass-manufactured in a way that suggest nobody involved in its inception has ever actually experienced an orgasm, and that it’s so eye-rollingly bad on even it’s best moment that you won’t even notice Danny Elfman’s there in the background giving the whole show it’s damned score.

The best way to step back from it all, though, is to take merciful solace in that it’s all over. Sam Johnson and Kelly Marcel got out intact, Dakota and Jamie can take on supporting roles in some emerging action or spy franchise in time for Cannes, and E.L. James – having shot her creative load – might finally go away, her foray into feature films complete and her addition to the pantheon of western cultural narrative having finally been wiped away.

Keeper of Lola M. Bear. Film critic for Movie Marker, TalkRADIO, and others. Producer of podcasts. Skechers enthusiast and blazer aficionado. All opinions my own.

Movie Reviews

LFF Review 2018 – Madeline’s Madeline ★★★★



Madelines Madeline Movie Marker

Director: Josephine Decker

Stars: Miranda July, Molly Parker, Helena Howard

Released: London Film Festival

Indie favourite actress/director, Josephine Decker premiered her third feature, Madeline’s Madeline at Sundance earlier this year where she received praise for her unconventional take on mental illness.

16 years old Madeline suffers from unspecified mental health problems which have created a wedge between her and her slightly over bearing mother (Miranda July). Spending most of her time alone, she finds comfort when joining an experimental theatre troupe and even develops a strong bond with its ambitious director, Evangeline (the psychotic Molly Parker). When Evangeline starts to use Madeline’s delicate mental state and personal issues with her mother as part of her play, the line between reality and illusion quickly starts to blur.

‘The emotions you are having are not your own. They are someone else’s. You are not the cat – you are inside the cat’. So begins 15 minutes of blurred and beautifully shot sequence that immediately puts the audience in a state of daze. When we are officially introduced to Madeline, we find an energetic young woman who would much rather disappear behind wild animals in theatre rehearsals than have any serious discussion with her mother. Sharing the screen is the interesting Evangeline, who is as passionate as inspiring but whose play doesn’t seem to make much sense to anyone, including herself.

The film’s stand out is the acting and nothing ever feels rehearsed. Helena Howard as Madeline is terrific and easily switches between the disturbed teenager, the cat, the seductress, the turtle and the actress, always bursting with energy and vulnerability.

The film has its witty moments, particularly when during an acting exercise Madeline decides to punish Evangeline for using her personal confessions by simulating a painful childbirth, in the hopes of terrifying the freshly pregnant teacher.

Decker also explores the interesting duality of the role of the artist. Often torn between the idea that creating is disappearing behind someone’s else story or on the contrary it is all about using real experiences to bring depth and authenticity, Decker seems to suggest it is a little of both and that both extremes could end up with either an artificial or violating result. No one understands what Evangeline’s play is about at first and when she finally finds substance that speaks to others (Madeline’s personal issues), she chooses to entirely focus on it instead of adding her own substance and ends up being kicked out by the troupe.

Madeline’s Madeline is visually stunning thanks to Ashley Connor ‘s imaginative cinematography and both Howard and Decker bring to life a condition that is still misunderstood and dismissed. The storyline does takes its time to emerge and the daze occasionally mixes with confusion. Howard keeps the audience in her mental maze throughout the film. It is messy, unusual and dense and maybe that was the whole point.

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Movie Reviews

LFF 2018 Review – A Private War ★★★



A Private War Movie Marker

Director: Matthew Heineman

Stars: Rosamund Pike, Jamie Dornan, Stanley Tucci, Tom Hollander

Released: London Film Festival 2018

‘ I see it so you don’t have to!’ Rosamund Pike, as war correspondent Marie Colvin, spits out at her Sunday Times editor Sean Ryan (Tom Hollander) towards the end of A Private War  as they argue on the banks of the Thames which rolls serenely past. She means the atrocities of war which she is compelled to return to time and again to report on despite hating her own compulsion. She does it, she believes, to give a voice to the ordinary men, women and children who are fodder for the military and political ambitions of dictators and leaders themselves safe in their palaces, well, until the mob gets to them and takes selfies with their mutilated corpse as we see later in the film.

Marie Colvin was a much celebrated war reporter who was killed in Syria in 2012 along with her interpreter/guide. She achieved fame in her lifetime for her fearless, uncompromising journalism but also for the black eye patch she wore after losing an eye in Sri Lanka when reporting on the Tamil Tigers in 2001. Her death will still be fresh in the minds of those who follow current affairs as will her extraordinary persona.

It’s a testament then to the tremendous power of Rosamund Pike’s performance that minutes into A Private War she becomes Colvin. The deep gravelly voice, the Long Island accent, the no nonsense, blunt manner of speaking are not only completely captured but taken possession of by the very English rose Pike.

She embodies Colvin with a natural ease which exposes the private vulnerabilities of a woman who could have been simplistically portrayed as a one of those annoying ‘strong, uncompromising women’ that Hollywood seems to think raises the female profile but real women find unbearable. Pike is not afraid to make the chain smoking, heavy drinking, conflicted Colvin unlikable at times. But it’s in the quiet, reflective moments of Colvin’s life when she is alone with her ravaged eye and light desire for the normal suburban life she rejected that Pike is at her most effective. This is a film about the psychological damage of seeing what the rest of us don’t have to as much as it is about the grotesque mess of war on the battlefield.

Colvin wants a child and considers it with the man (Greg Wise) she’s already divorced a couple of times despite having suffered two miscarriages. She may or may not be prone to seeking connection through other convenient liaisons. Her friend tells her she’s an alcoholic and she thinks about convincing a psychiatrist she’s sane so she can leave a rehab clinic she’s an inpatient in before she’s really up to it. She’s plagued by flashbacks and nightmares.
We learn all this about her but, like her, don’t have time to fully process any of it before she and we are whisked off to Iraq. There she meets a freelance photographer, Paul Conroy, (Jamie Dornan – Fifty Shades Freed) and the two quickly form a professional partnership with Colvin very much in the driving seat as to where they go and what risks they take. In one case this involves her confidently flashing a gym membership card to get through a heavily armed checkpoint. The friendship which builds between the two is not explored enough and Dornan is not given enough to do but when the inevitable danger which is foreshadowed throughout the film befalls them it’s intense and a swallow-hard moment.

Even though we know her death is coming , when it actually does, there’s a real sense of loss, largely due to Pike having brought Colvin to life so brilliantly beforehand. I predict we’ll be seeing a lot of Rosamund Pike during awards season for this timely film produced by Charlize Theron about a very modern heroine.

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Movie Reviews

LFF 2018 Review – Assassination Nation ★★★★



Assassination Nation Movie Marker

Director: Sam Levinson

Stars: Odessa Young, Hari Nef, Suki Waterhouse

Released: London Film Festival 2018

When Director, Sam Levinson started writing Assassination Nation over two years ago, he probably had no idea how shockingly relevant this dark comedy would be today. Written as his wife was about to give birth, he credits his fear of raising his child in an increasingly brutal country as the main inspiration behind this vivid satire, depicting the disastrous consequences of living online.

The city of Salem, Massachusetts is about to delve into chaos when a data hacker starts exposing highly porn-ified secrets of its population. Internet search history, digital photos and texts conversations are published. Political careers and marriages end. The hack reaches Salem’s high school whose principal is also targeted and forced to resign, despite claiming his innocence. In need of a scapegoat, the town’s authority (macho detective and police man) finds it in high school head girl, Lily (Odessa Young), whose affair with a married man,  just leaked. Lily and her friends must face the town’s growing hysteria that quickly turns into a blood bath of sexism and brutality.

The film’s core storyline revolves around Lily, who with her friends make up the popular clique of Salem’s High School. The 1990’s had their mysterious virgin nymphs (“Virgin Suicide”) and the 2000s, their bullying princesses (“Mean Girl”) but in 2018, the popular girls are fun, clever and most of all, nasty. Born in a comfortable middle class family, Lily has good grades and a cheeky talent for drawing. What Lily and her friend lack is a reliable grown up figure to look up to. Surrounded by threatening boyfriends and denigrating parents, the only grown-up who pays her some attention is her principal but even he cannot completely give in when she makes a clever accusation of the sexism of internet and social media while defending her pornographic art work.

Assassination Nation 2 Movie Marker

There is thin line between victim and executioner in Assassination Nation and Levinson strategically jumps from teasing to threats as if one didn’t exist without the other. Levinson seems less interested in exposing the already well established outcomes of the digital age than exploring the hypocrisy and shaming young people, and particularly young woman, face on a daily basis.

Half way between  Little Red Riding Hood and Nikita, and far from victims, these girls fight back with whatever they are threaten with, usually guns but at times razors and even a shovel. Full of extreme close-ups, the camera is intrusive, and if this closeness can be difficult at first, it quickly helps creates a real connection with those girls.  Surrounded by obvious and familiar characters (naïve head cheerleader, immature boyfriend, cheating husband…), and lifted by invigorating performances by Hari Nef (Bex) and Odessa Young (Lily), these girls can only shine in authenticity and it is hard not to root for them.

Salem’s utter obliviousness takes final form in the slushy sipping little brother, revealed as the hacker. Youngest and quiet, he seemed like a harmless addition to the dinner table and yet could bring a nation to its knee. The warning signs were there, adults chose to ignore them. The film ends with a public letter to a certain president of a certain powerful nation and a feminist call to action against any form of violence and misogyny.

The film will most likely not affect every generation in the same way and will probably swing between anti-sexist fantasy revenge to painfully relevant. Yet there is nothing in this film that can’t be traced back to a recent newspaper headline or twitter feed, regrouped to create a bloody picture of the modern America, kids are made to grow up in.

“Don’t take your anger out on me, I just got here.”

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