Review: Cats (2019)

cats

You’re gonna need a pick-me-up: Working TitleFilms/Amblin Entertainment

I’m not trying to offend anyone who genuinely enjoys Andrew Lloyd Webber’s smash hit musical – I like some strange things too – but I personally found CATS on stage unbearable. Even the better songs on the soundtrack just cling to your brain like limpets rather than speaking to your heart. I was expecting Tom Hooper’s film adaptation to be at least as terrible, and it is bad, but in some unusual ways and not to the extent that it’s so bad it’s good.

Abandoned cat Victoria (Francesca Hayward) is found by a tribe of Jellicle cats and prepared for the Jellicle Ball where one cat will be chosen to leave this world for a better one.

Cats as an IP has always had a problem with presenting a compelling story. You can look forward to nearly two hours of every key player introducing themselves in a shallow song describing what their deal is and not doing a lot else. Oh, and everyone’s praying for death and rebirth into whoever they want to be (presumably still a cat). Visually, it could have been as unique an experience as many audiences enjoy on stage, but we all know how the VFX turned out, don’t we?

When you’re not swept up at all by a story and feel no connection to the, well let’s be charitable and call them characters, you notice things you shouldn’t. Who decided which cats do and don’t wear shoes? Who decided to give everyone whiskers but leave human noses and eyebrows? Actors’ faces uncannily grafted to furry, sexless, bottomless bodies (particularly noticeable considering how long some cats spend spread-eagled doing cat tings in the film) was disturbing enough, but then there’s the cockroaches and the m…m-mice…mice with children’s faces. Shudder!

To be fair, you can’t say that the ensemble cast don’t commit, but most of them seem to be in different movies to the others. Francesca Hayward is a solid lead but Victoria isn’t given anything to do besides sing the new song and be in the background of everyone else’s sequences. Playing it far straighter than the material deserves you have Judi Dench and Ian McKellen, but they also stretch out in a basket and lap from a saucer, respectively. Jennifer Hudson blows everyone away as expected in the dramatic singing stakes (as whoever gets to sing “Memories” tends to do) but James Corden, Rebel Wilson and Idris Elba are pretty bad, full-stop; either on autopilot or relying on their usual schtick.

I don’t think you could accuse it of complete incompetence – there are good singers and dancers in this, the set designs are unique, there’s two pretty well-mounted and entertaining musical numbers (the tap extravaganza “Skimbleshanks” and Taylor Swift’s showstopper “Macavity”). But even the “good” sequences that get by on dancing technical skill or showmanship have too much of an unfinished CG sheen, with the performers popping alarmingly against the backgrounds much as their faces pop against their bodies and the scale of the human world they inhabit the lower portion of remains distractingly inconsistent.

Cats is a bad film and a bad idea from conception. A combination of an unfinished, frightening aesthetic, ping-ponging tone and the musical not being all that to begin with makes it a really difficult watch. The cast don’t phone it in, but most elements that make up the movie should have either been dialed back and refined or pumped all the way up for pure entertainment value. Is it quite bad enough to become a cult classic? Probably not on its own terms, but we’ve got memes now, so who knows… SSP

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1917 (2019) Review

https://www.thefilmagazine.com/1917-war-movie-review-sammendes-oscarsbaftacontender/ SSP

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Review in Brief: For Sama (2019)

How to you begin to describe FOR SAMA? You don’t – you tell others to watch it. It’s not just a documentary, but a chronicle of a remarkable life in the most tragic of circumstances, an important socio-historical document and the purest of emotional odysseys. Documenting the experiences of video journalist Waad Al-Kateab, her husband and her children in bombed-out Aleppo, Al-Kateab is on the front line, in the heart of the chaos, trying to maintain a life among the rubble. No-one in Aleppo escaped the ruination of their city, but Al-Kateab’s need to record the nightmare for the world and for her daughter, in addition to her husband’s vital work at one of the few remaining hospitals, puts her where fighting is the thickest. It might have started as a way to preserve memories of life good and bad for her daughter, but Al-Kateab’s For Sama is now a harrowing, necessary and spiritually restorative documentary for the world. SSP

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Review in Brief: The Two Popes (2019)

THE TWO POPES works for the same reason that THE CROWN on TV works – it treats icons as people, brings them down to the level of the rest of us normal folks. The transition from Pope Benedict to Francis last decade was an interesting one – seldom has a Pope chosen to retire. Showing Pope Benedict (Anthony Hopkins) and soon-to-be-Pope Francis (Jonathan Pryce) ordering in pizza and Fanta to the Vatican is a lovely touch. Having them watch football and bad cop shows from their respective homelands is another. There’s some snappy dialogue that does a lot of the character-building legwork – Francis: “I’m Argentinian, the tango and football are compulsory” / Benedict: “Please do not make a joke of everything I say. It’s dishonest and cynical. Have the respect to show me your real anger” – but the two leads’ subtle and grounded performances help to keep the story involving, even when murky flashbacks intrude. SSP

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Review in Brief: The Nightingale (2018/19)

THE NIGHTINGALE is a gruelling and relentlessly bleak watch, but it’s compelling stuff nonetheless. Jennifer Kent followed up her fascinatingly unique genre debut THE BABADOOK with a dark, raw and grounded historical epic. There’s a captivating core relationship dynamic: an uneasy but necessary relationship between a horrendously wronged Irish convict (Aisling Franciosi, mesmerising) and her Aboriginal guide (Baykali Ganambarr, dignified) both with intense distrust of each other that it overridden by their shared loathing of the English soldiers they are in pursuit of. Kent brings across the sheer scale of the journey through a wide range of inhospitable but beautiful landscapes and gives Colonialism a damn good kicking along the way. One late scene doesn’t quite ring true, but it gives us a moment to take a breath before heading for the finish line. The Nightingale’s lived-in performances and the harsh reality of living in a difficult time grabs you from the off and refuses to let go. SSP

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Review: The Irishman (2019)

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What’s today’s special?: Tribeca Productions/Sikelia Productions/Netflix

THE IRISHMAN has two of the saddest tracking shots in cinema history; one at the beginning and one at the end, both set in a retirement home and both filled with regret. That’s the prevailing emotion in all of this – regret – but you don’t regret Martin Scorsese staying firmly within his wheelhouse.

The story of Frank “The Irishman” Sheeran, who went from a nobody returning from WWII to “painting houses” for the mob when he is taken under the wing of boss Russell Bufalino (Joe Pesci). Eventually Sheeran is also acting as bodyguard for powerful Teamsters Union Supremo Jimmy Hoffa (Al Pacino), but will this relationship survive Hoffa’s crossing of the gangsters who helped him secure his position?

I’m not an American history buff, I know especially little about this period of the late 50s to mid 70s, so there are true-life happenings here that I’m sure with have more impact on some audience members than they did on me. For all the ambitious decade-spanning, operatic crime melolodrama moments, The Irishman is a film made in the lower-key, mundane breaks from the all the point-blank headshots. Never mind who’s been extorted, whacked or tailored for political office, these are guys who will argue endlessly about timekeeping, etiquette and why you really shouldn’t transport fresh fish on the backseat of your nice car.

The film gifts us with one of the most sinister low-key threat in the Scorsese oeuvre: “It is what it is”. Basically, this is the situation, this is what’s going to be done, and there’s nothing you can do about it. Woe betide anybody who doesn’t take heed of this…

The lead trio are the best they’ve been in a very long time. DeNiro and Pesci have to do a certain amount of underplaying, but Pacino is a crackling live wire. There’s plenty of entertaining back-and forth between the key players and another great Scorsese food scene, this time with Pesci filing the simple act of dressing a salad with menace. You also get reliable supporting players like Ray Romano, Jesse Plemons and Stephen Graham being reliable and Anna Paquin making up for a lack of lines with a powerful look that says a thousand words to DeNiro as her neglectful dad.

Scorsese is aware that your age shows in areas other than your face, right? Not so much a problem for the remarkably sprightly 79 year-old Pacino, but DeNiro’s body language doesn’t change in any noticeable way when he’s playing his own age and when he’s playing half his age, which is a problem when he’s the character in the most scenes and whose story pings back and forward in time so frequently. There’s no reason they couldn’t have found younger lookalike actors or used physical doubles for the flashbacks, but no, they just had to show off their new toys. The blue (contact lens? CG-altered) eyes of Frank are also really distracting.

The Irishman is a long sit, but with so much ground to cover, so many characters and plot turns to serve, you rarely feel the time drag. The advantage of being primarily seen on Netflix of course is that you can take you time, have breaks, let it all soak in. It might have worked better as a miniseries, but Scorsese is as we know committed to the concept of “cinema” and would probably see taking that route as cheapening his baby.

The Irishman sees Scorsese comfortably in his wheelhouse but rarely resting on his laurels. He still grows as a filmmaker after 50 years in the profession, refining, reflecting and bringing nuance to each new project. This isn’t quite up there with his very best, but it comes pretty darn close. They still should have kept the title as “I Heard You Paint Houses”, though. SSP

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10 Directors with 3 or More Great Films in the 2010s

https://www.thefilmagazine.com/10-directors-with-3-or-more-great-films-from-the-2010s/ SSP

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Review in Brief: Tell Me Who I Am (2019)

TELL ME WHO I AM hits like a train. A captivating true story that asks questions about memory, deception, morality and perspective, you won’t be able to shake this one off for a good long while. The crazy true story of identical twin brothers, Alex and Marcus, their unusual upbringing and Marcus’ attempt to fill in Alex’s memories after he is struck with amnesia in an accident. Why wouldn’t Alex hang on Marcus’ every word? The documentary is composed of the brothers’ two voices only with the assistance of brief reconstructed scenes to link their words. This is only right – it’s the story of their unique experience from two different perspectives. What follows retains its power the less you know, but suffice to say it goes to dark, painful places and both brothers are left drained and exposed living (or re-living, depending on the brother) their experience on camera. Powerful stuff. SSP

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Review in Brief: Hail Satan? (2019)

Forget what you think you know about Satanism and Satanists. With engaging voices, convincing arguments and self-aware humour HAIL SATAN? exposes the hypocrisy at the heart of the Land of the Free – freedom of religious expression…as long as you’re Christian. The Satanic Temple adopted “The Adversary” as a figurehead to be seen as an alternative to large organised religions, as welcoming to minorities and willing to debate any viewpoint. We see through the documentary how co-founder and spokesman Lucien Greaves advocates tirelessly against religious hegemony and discrimination against minority religious groups through debate, compelling evidence (often citing the American Constitution) and public stunts, notably campaigning for a statue of Baphomet to stand next to a statue of the Ten Commandments in Oklahoma. Notably it is not the Satanists who are shown to threaten to get what they want, but Christians. SSP

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Review: Star Wars: Episode IX – The Rise of Skywalker (2019)

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Déjà vu?: Disney/Lucasfilm

Fans, as a rule don’t really know what they want – only what they don’t. A lot of Star Wars fans didn’t want things to go the way they did in THE LAST JEDI, so JJ Abrams seems primarily concerned with course-correction in his return to the Star Wars universe.

Emperor Palpatine (Iain McDiarmid) has returned, the forces of the heroic Resistance and the evil First Order are forming up for the decisive final battle and Rey (Daisy Ridley) and Kylo Ren (Adam Driver) face their entwined destinies…

We open with Palpatine alive again, for some reason and Kylo Ren searching for him, for some reason and all the good guys doing something else, for some reason. There’s no escaping the fact that the first 45 minutes or so of THE RISE OF SKYWALKER are a bit of a mess. It feels like playing catch-up to the events another in-between film that doesn’t exist. There’s no room for characters to breathe or take stock – exposition is garbled and everyone’s zipping so quickly from one location to the next even the lightspeed computer is bewildered.

One by one all the bold and unexpected plot and character choices that Rian Johnson made are walked back – sometimes unnecessarily so – until we’re left with a somewhat cynical factory-tooled crowd-“pleaser”. Whatever your opinion on The Last Jedi, surely you can’t think reverting to the safety of repetition and recognisable tropes makes for a more interesting movie? Not everything in a story has to be connected or explained – doing so is…unnatural.

The cast are trying their best with sub-par material, with Ridley and Driver committing admirably to a script that tanks their previous character development. Elsewhere, Oscar Isaac as the wonderfully flippant Poe Dameron remains a highlight along with a returning Billy Dee Williams as Lando, and even Anthony Daniels somehow manages to be nuanced as C3-PO. McDiarmid clearly still relishes being the ultimate evil-just-because bastard and owns his every scene, no matter how hokey they make the resurrected Emperor’s dark powers.

The late great Carrie Fisher’s appearance is of course handled deeply respectfully, repurposing and re-contextualising preexisting footage and completing Leia’s story in a satisfying way.

Leia’s presence aside, Abrams tries to pull on his audience’s heartstrings with (no spoilers here) maybe three big things that happen in the story, two of which are undone by the end. There are still very few lasting consequences in Abrams’ storytelling. There are callbacks aplenty, some of which work, which really connect, and others which are more laboured and feel more like pandering.

What never feels laboured or pandering is John Williams’ always-superb orchestration. He knocks it out of the park for a ninth time, composing new and distinctive themes for characters and key moments and dipping into his previous Wars scores to heighten plot and character echoes.

It’s a gorgeous-looking film beyond doubt, with Force abilities rendered on a scale never seen before, action taking place a wide range of colourful intergalactic environments, endearingly low-fi practical creature effects and more spaceships than your brain can comprehend. Unfortunately, if you’d be unable to count the number of spaceships on screen if you paused the movie, you probably have too many spaceships on screen to actually mean anything.

Not everything is ditched wholesale, in fact Abrams builds interestingly on TLJ’s “force bridging” concept from the off, and he still loves playing with what you can and can’t (but mostly the former because it’s s space fantasy so who cares) do with lightspeed travel. If only more in this was new and interesting and less concerned with overanalysis.

Has it really been 42 years of adventures in this galaxy? We’ve has highs lows, and in-betweens, but the Star Wars movies have always been memorable and made a profound connection with their fanbase. The Rise of Skywalker is aiming to please, but all-too-often gets carried away with itself. Fanservice and clear affection for what has come before is one thing, I just wish they made more of an effort to do something completely new rather than retreading past glories and “righting” perceived wrongs. Flaws often add colour to film, and the presentation of this is too flawless, too precision-engineered to mean anything much. I’m not mad, I’m just disappointed. SSP

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