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Reviewer: Philip Price

Director: Scott Cooper

Stars: Adam Beach, Ben Foster, Christian Bale, Jesse Plemons, Jonathan Majors, Q’orianka Kilcher, Rory Cochrane, Rosamund Pike, Stafford Douglas, Tanaya Beatty, Timothée Chalamet, Wes Studi, Xavier Horsechief

Released: January 5th, 2018

There are opening scenes and then there is the opening scene to Hostiles. Why do people treat one another the way we have for all of history? This is the question the opening sequence within director Scott Cooper’s (Crazy Heart, Out of the Furnace) latest brutally forces us to ponder. The United States, since its inception in 1776, has only not been in conflict with itself or another country for a total of eighteen years. Why are we like this? What is it in our human nature that allows us to always be at odds with others and their inclinations? It’s a fascinating and broad mentality to deconstruct, but dammit if Cooper doesn’t try his darndest in what is itself a seeming deconstruction of the classic American Western. Maybe it’s the fact I haven’t seen as many classic Westerns as I should in order to be able to understand where Hostiles goes wrong in its breaking down of the mythos of the old west, but for what it’s worth, Cooper’s film feels pure in its intent to accurately portray this time period and the dynamics that existed in as honest a fashion as possible-no matter how gruesome and no matter who comes out looking worse. This opening sequence then, which I won’t go into detail about here, is an immediate and gut-wrenching reminder of the fact hate is often one in the same no matter where it comes from, but is often not seen as hate from the perspective from which it comes. In Hostiles, Cooper examines all the complexities of war and the purpose of the meanings behind words like honor and courage while stripping them down to not so much the definitions we’ve come to immediately relate to such words, but more the intent behind them. It’s a rather simple suggestion, a simple consensus to come to even, but as history has shown us there is typically a lot of bloodshed and a lot of lives lost in the process of trying to come to such a consensus. And so, Cooper communicates these simple, but resounding themes through a straightforward story that is executed with the scope of that grand American Western. Channeling this idea that somewhere along the lines of history we found war to be the most effective tool of persuasion into a narrative that is able to say much more with the implications of the events it documents rather than serving as an excuse for an adrenaline rush via the shootouts or misplaced pride in whatever side you might genetically fall, but more in being an understanding of the value of life and how much of it has been lost over what comes down to little more than inconsequential details.

Beginning with a D.H. Lawrence quote that states, “The essential American soul is hard, isolate, stoic, and a killer. It has never yet melted.” One might guess what direction this is heading, but one also has to wonder with what perspective this statement is coming from as well as Lawrence only lived in the United States from 1922 to 1925 or so and went on many extended vacations during that time. Lawrence was in fact only a young boy, seven-years-old to be exact, when the events in Hostiles are said to be taking place and so, while Lawrence wasn’t specifically talking about the men that we see in this film it is evident he saw something in the nature and in the spirit of those he came in contact with during his time establishing the Kiowa Ranch in Taos, New Mexico that inspired him to write such words about the nation. That said, Lawrence also seemed to despise the lower classes and felt the need to rid society of them, so take all of this with a grain of salt if you’d like. The point being, Lawrence’s quote is meant to enlist a state of mind about the embodiment of these characters we’re about to go on a journey with. It is meant to create an aura around other characters so that, upon being introduced to them, we already have a good sense of what occupies their head space. Set in New Mexico in 1892, thirty years post-Civil War, Cooper picks up with Army Captain Joseph J. Blocker (Christian Bale), regarded for “taking more scalps than Sitting Bull himself,” who is enlisted as a kind of “last act to ensure retirement” to escort a dying Cheyenne war chief and his family who have been prisoners of the U.S. for over seven years back to their tribal lands. Telling is the fact that immediately following the aforementioned opening sequence Cooper cuts to Blocker and his men torturing an Apache as his wife and young child stand idle by, unable to do anything but scream in terror. It’s not nearly as devastating as what unfolds in the first five minutes of the film, but as this Native American is pulled along the ground by a horse over rough terrain for no reason other than to treat this fellow man with disregard, it is clear the position the film is taking and the lack of juxtaposition between what are meant to be soldiers who uphold the law and basic civility and that of Comanche renegades is intentionally striking. The fact Bale’s Blocker is at the head of this wrangling also tells us the initial disposition of his character which, when paired with the image conjured by the Lawrence quote, doesn’t exactly paint a picture of an individual who would find no qualms in protecting what he has clearly come to despise. Of course, if Blocker wasn’t initially prejudice against the Native Americans there would be no arc for his character and no satisfaction in the narrative and thus we are on this journey not only to ensure that Blocker completes his task successfully, but that he naturally learns something in the process as well.

Blocker puts together his detail in Rory Cochrane’s Master Sgt. Thomas Metz, a soldier who is at the end of his line; exhausted and conflicted. Having seen so much and no doubt done much worse, the violence has taken an untold toll on the Master Sgt. as he can’t help but to be unable to reconcile all he’s been commanded to do in his life. Jonathan Majors is Corp. Henry Woodsen, the only African-American in Blocker’s detail though this fact isn’t highlighted or exploited for any cheap shots. Rather, Woodsen maintains the respect he deserves by exemplifying his skill throughout. It is one of the best scenes in the film when Bale and Woodsen, in a moment of vulnerability, allow each of their facades to fall and their sincere gratitude to come through. Jesse Plemons is West Point graduate Lt. Rudy Kidder who is in charge of provisions and, given they don’t get too many “West Point types” out this far, is also out to prove his worth. Finally, there is Timothée Chalamet’s Pvt. Philippe DeJardin who is a new arrival with less than ideal experience that wasn’t chosen by Blocker specifically, but rather Stephen Lang’s Col. Abraham Biggs who has tasked Blocked with this undesirable duty. This was obviously shot in the midst of Chalamet working on his two other breakout films this year as Hostiles takes very little advantage of the young actor’s charisma, though the remainder of the supporting cast being so steeped in talent lend this dark yet sturdy picture a resonance it can’t help but to generate. Bale is particularly affecting despite it being made clear early that his character is something of an asshole. Shortly after leaving the site in New Mexico to escort Chief Yellow Hawk (Wes Studi), his son Black Hawk (Adam Beach), Black Hawk’s wife Elk Woman (Q’orianka Kilcher who played Pocahontas alongside Bale’s John Rolfe in 2005’s The New World), and their son Little Bear (Xavier Horsechief), as well as the Chief’s daughter, Moon Deer (Tanaya Beatty), to sacred Cheyenne territory in Montana known as “The Valley of the Bears” the company comes across a residence that has been burned to the ground with only Rosalie Quaid (Rosamund Pike) remaining. It is in the moments shortly after the first encounter between Blocker and Quaid that Bale demonstrates his character’s unexpected sympathy and ability to deftly handle the delicate situation in which he has encountered. Bale conveying much of what was on the page in mannerisms and glances that speak volumes to this hardened Captain’s softer interiors. Pike is equal in her performance throughout as she commands we stay with her in every moment no matter how hard we might want to look away. No matter the context or surrounding circumstances, what we witness Pike’s character and no doubt countless Native American wives and mothers, who had to deal with the same type of heartbreak, go through is unacceptable only reinforcing the larger theme imbued by Cooper and purposefully begging the question, over and over, of why must we treat others the way we do and have for so long?

In framing these events the way Cooper does we are understanding to the way in which Bale and his company of men react to even the sight of Native Americans, no matter the tribe. With the key understanding that not all tribes were “rattlesnake people” such as the Comanche’s are portrayed to be, we also understand how large a role provocation played in the way in which many of these Native American tribes were forced to react to the white settlers. Hostiles is a constant back and forth of differing views that seeks to find the smallest patch of common ground even if it doesn’t realize that’s what it’s longing for. Hostiles is a violent movie, one draped in the blood of all that dare venture onto its wide plane, but as Cooper attempts to slyly suggest a plea for change among an onslaught of actions that only seem detrimental to the human race a more well-rounded picture of why this plea feels so authentic comes into view. Cooper loves the soul of this time period, these never ending frontier’s, the grit in each man’s teeth, each particle of dust on each man’s hat and he is sure to capture this scale and soulfulness in the open locations as rendered by cinematographer Masanobu Takayanagi (The Grey). The serenity of such wide landscapes and stark color differences directly conflicting with the rage inside so many of the characters. Further, Cooper then uses these familiar images and the well-worn traditions of the genre to steep the audience in what we believe we’re getting ourselves into while dealing with the truth of these times in a way the pictures of the fifties and sixties weren’t willing to admit. It is Cochrane’s character and that of a smaller supporting turn by Ben Foster (always the reliable scumbag) that emphasizes the line each man walks between being the best version of himself and his own worst enemy. “We’re all guilty of something,” Foster’s character says at one point, “I’m just asking for mercy.” This comes just prior to Foster’s prisoner asking Bale’s Blocker who he’s become. It’s a moment that makes one sit up, makes one contemplate all sides of the argument, and forces one to evaluate the ideas of change, of absolutes, and of what can be done in an effort to correct moving forward rather than stay stagnate in this hell-like cycle that pushes men to the point they are unable to feel anything, much less the capability to come to terms with they’ve done and, in the end, moreover why they’ve done it. Blocker coming to the understanding his job has essentially become that of taking the life of another man. All of this would seem to indeed embody those words written by Lawrence so long ago, yet just as he is doing with the Western genre, Cooper deconstructs the myth of the American soul-not necessarily disagreeing with what has been said, but adding layers to it. This unabashed truth might make Hostiles hard to swallow for some, and it drags intermittently as it seems it was always destined to do, but with as strong an ensemble as on display and Cooper’s sensibilities applying themselves intrinsically to this world Hostilesis ultimately as strong and gut-wrenching a film as that opening scene would indicate it to be.

I love movies, simple as that. I watch them with an intent to write about them and have always enjoyed discussing the latest news and releases with others. I received a Bachelor of Arts in Writing and Mass Communications/Digital Filmmaking and combined those interests when I began writing about cinema. Hope you enjoy the reviews, Happy reading!

Movie Reviews

LFF 2018 Review – Colette

Colette can feel a tad velvety at times but is lifted by Keira Knightley’s sensual performance and liberating battle that painfully resonates today.



Director: Wash Westmoreland

Stars: Keira Knightley, Dominic West

Released: London Film Festival 2018

Born in 19th century France, Sidonie Gabrielle Colette wrote more than 80 volumes depicting her childhood, her life, her pains and pleasures. Her writings were sensual, vivid and all published under her husband name, “Willy”.

No stranger to female-centric stories, Wash Westmoreland follows up on “Still Alice” and “Echo Park, L.A.” with this dazzling period biopic starring Keira Knightley and Dominic West.

The film starts, the young country girl, Colette (Knightley), marries writer and critic Henri Gauthier-Villars (“Willy”) who introduces her to Parisian salons. Willy soon finds himself in debts and is desperate enough to seek his wife’s help. She will write. Colette writes what she knows and her first novella, “Claudine à l’école” (Claudine at school) is a success. Willy forces her to write the next ones, locked in a golden cage, to ensure his fame and success.

The settings are sumptuous and we gladly follow the camera through the stunning but confined Parisian apartments where the outside light only comes through when she feels inspired. Costumes evolve, as Colette, from heavy and restricted dresses to wild and daring clothing as if Mademoiselle Chanel had designed them herself.

Colette finally loosens from her husband and experiments with woman, society and dancing, feeding her inspiration. Forced and uncredited, Colette cannot enjoy writing and runs off to perform in the music-hall in her own name. In like most biopics, we go from one key event to another, regrettably quickly and often without knowing how we got there. Willy’s sudden appointment of his wife is left as unexplained as the abrupt ending that could have potentially seen Colette, a happy writer.

In the second part of the film Westmoreland seems more interested in looking at the awakening of a young woman rather than at the birth of an author whereas Keira Knightley shines in the lead role. Often known for playing the innocent and rebellious youth, Knightley still pulls off the young Colette in the first part of the film but is at her best when she evolves into a mature woman, aware of own desires. The best scenes of the film come when Colette is free and herself, usually in the company of other woman, particularly the terribly charming Missy (Denise Gough). Westmoreland multiplies two shots and close ups and creates impactful intimate scenes but regrettably gives up on them too fast.

It is a change to see a character such as “Willy” that is both ridiculous and loving. This duality creates, perhaps, a more truthful relationship between the two. No one is born an artist and behind every writer there is an intuitive editor (and in 20th century France, who else could it be than a man?). For Westmoreland if there is no Claudine without Colette, there would have been no Colette without Willy.

With its lavish setting and jumping plot, Colette can feel a tad velvety at times but is lifted by Keira Knightley’s sensual performance and liberating battle that painfully resonates today.

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Movie Reviews

LFF 2018 Review – If Beale Street Could Talk



Beale Street Movie Marker

Released: 8th February 2019

Directed By: Barry Jenkins

Starring: Kiki Layne, Stephan James, Regina King, Colman Domingo, Teyonah Parris, Brian Tyree Henry

Reviewed By: Darryl Griffiths

In his entrancing and eventual Best Picture Oscar winner ‘Moonlight’, it was the longing to be authentic. To be accepted in an often volatile environment that powered its narrative.

Clearly in this pitch-perfect adaptation of the James Baldwin novel, director Barry Jenkins is consumed with longing of a different kind that is just as potent. Justice. An eradication of the infuriating systemic abuse of law and power against black people in America, that sees this luminous love story in 1970’s Harlem, strike modern-day parallels with our own divided, morally skewed society.

An incandescent portrayal of young romance. The tenderness, respect and sheer revolve that underpins the relationship between Tish (Kiki Layne) and Fonny (Stephan James) will leave you spellbound from the outset, as their lives are soon mired in despair. The rapturous joy of new life as Tish falls pregnant, backed up by the triple threat of mom Sharon (Regina King), dad Joseph (Colman Domingo) and sister Ernestine (Teyonah Parris). Quickly cancelled out by the malice of Fonny’s staunchly religious family and a false yet potentially devastating rape allegation made against him, as they scramble to prove his innocence.

Punctuated by Kiki Layne’s wholesome narration and an overwhelmingly beautiful Nicholas Brittell score that i would be content listening to for days on end. Jenkins exchanges the melancholic blues of his previous effort for a broader but no less lush visual palette, with its exquisite interiors and classy costume design almost serving as a rainbow for the tears that have streamed down their faces through such hardship, but their spirit and love continues to illuminate their gritty surroundings. Whether it be lingering close-ups of sweet embrace or deep sorrow. Its director doesn’t flinch for a second in conveying the simmering emotions on display and in doing so, leaves you completely transfixed by his tactful approach to the source material.

There is a raw resilient energy that permeates throughout its central romance. Kiki Layne’s Tish serves as the remarkably understated, calming influence to Stephan James’ broken-hearted prisoner, a slave to a corrupt system with a searing monologue by Fonny’s dear friend Daniel (Brian Tyree Henry) reinforcing the pain inflicted. Through it all, their hopeful adoring looks and stifling intimacy simply captivate. In Regina King’s marvellous mother figure, she peppers the film with considerable candour, armed with dialogue that pierces your soul. Whilst Jenkins leaves enough room for inspired cameos that are best left a secret, which gorgeously represent a sense of community and a progression in attitude, that defies the period.

A steady panning shot as Fonny smokes may seem throwaway. In this case, it is awfully fitting to articulate the finesse of its director. Lose yourself in the mesmeric haze of ‘If Beale Street Could Talk’.

A lyrical experience that reminds you of the poetic power cinema can truly possess. His love for the art form brought him here. On this form. Trust Barry Jenkins to go all the way.

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Movie Reviews

LFF 2018 Review – Stan & Ollie



Stan and Ollie Rating Movie Marker

Released: 11th January 2019

Directed By: Jon S Baird

Starring: Steve Coogan, John C.Reilly, Shirley Henderson, Nina Arianda

Reviewed By: Darryl Griffiths

Products of classic Hollywood whose superior slapstick routines triggered endless laughter from their legion of fans, propelling them to legendary status. The sheer physicality and comedic prowess displayed by the English/American duo of Stan Laurel and Oliver Hardy, still puts many modern-day efforts to shame.

But like so many comedians, there is a tragic element to their careers that contradicts their profession. Through this solid biopic by Filth director Jon S. Baird, it looks to give us a poignant insight into the duo’s grueling twilight years.

Their popularity slowly dwindling. Their bones creaking. Whether on the big screen or the stage, Laurel (Steve Coogan) and Hardy (John C.Reilly) are suddenly not the hottest ticket in town in the early 1950’s. Lumbered with Rufus Jones’ Bernard Delfont, a wisecracking promoter who seems more invested in the likes of Norman Wisdom, they look to reignite interest with a lengthy theatre tour and a long-gestating film project. Yet with audiences middling, contract negotiations stalling and the workload far beyond what was expected, it puts a significant strain on the health and friendship of these two towering talents.

Inevitably with its story, you would expect ‘Stan & Ollie’ to be assured in its abilities to make you laugh. However much of the first half feels surprisingly stilted as Coogan and C.Reilly throw themselves into the pair’s much-beloved routines, with regular cutbacks to their adoring audiences. For the uninitiated, it may initially make you wonder what the fuss was about. Thankfully as the film’s supporting players are introduced to spar with our central characters, it finds a more consistent comedic rhythm, neatly intertwining with the film’s simmering emotion.

Whilst it’s undoubtedly a few visual flourishes away from being a formulaic BBC Christmas special. The admiration of S.Baird for Laurel & Hardy certainly shines through in its refined production, beginning with an exquisite tracking shot on a studio lot as he works his way through the duo’s masterful mischief with fondness.

The rapport between John C.Reilly and Steve Coogan anchors proceedings wonderfully, skilfully capturing the mannerisms and effectively articulating how dependent they are of each other, despite their ongoing disputes. In C.Reilly’s Ollie, his fully-fleshed turn pierces through the fat suit he wears, whose willingness to perform despite failing health is soul-stirring. Whilst the relentless nature of Coogan’s Stan, as he looks to churn out the material strong enough to breathe new life into their double act, makes for compelling viewing. The real danger posed however, is that the film’s main attraction are nearly upstaged by their witty wives, with Shirley Henderson’s Lucille and Nina Arianda’s Ida threatening to steal every scene they grace.

Entertaining enough to gently applaud. Yet perhaps not an act that quite raises the roof. ‘Stan and Ollie’ coasts by on its endearing nostalgic charm and committed performances.

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