THOROUGHBREDS is made in its script. It’s deliciously dark and full of wittily pragmatic musings on humanity like “I have a perfectly healthy brain, it just doesn’t contain feelings”, and “The sawdust smells fantastic, but you’re still in a hamster cage”. Olivia Cooke and Anya Taylor-Joy both play twisted human beings, two troubled teens gearing up to do something horrific, but they’re beguiling, even sympathetic in their reasoning for committing monstrous acts. Their strength of character and confidence in the screenplay shines through in the number of scenes where the camera just sits back and lets the scene play out in a single take, coming across as improvised but presumably heavily choreographed. Your heart breaks all the more for Anton Yelchin’s early passing seeing the ease in which he brings depth to a character who could easily be another one-note stoner. Thoroughbreds is an entertainingly warped character piece and an attention-grabbing calling card for writer-director Cory Finley. SSP
Review in Brief: Thoroughbreds (2017/18)
Looking Back and Looking Forward: 2018, Part 1
Where did 2018 go? For me it’s been a funny year of highs and lows, beginnings and ends and other summing-up-the-year clichés as well. In film, the year started well, then flagged a bit in the middle before picking up again at the end, a bit like Peter Parker’s arc in INTO THE SPIDER-VERSE. So let’s take a look back at the first crop of what made it and what didn’t, in my opinion…
Best of 2018:
B Story
10. THOROUGHBREDS Not your average tale of teen friendship. Twisted, hilarious and for the most part a skilled two-hander between Olivia Cooke and Anya Taylor-Joy, this one blindsided me, in a good way. Review in Brief here.
Marvel
9. BLACK PANTHER Some films just catch the zeitgeist. Marvel’s support of (most) distinctive filmmakers bears fruit with this vivid and resonant spy-superhero spectacular. This could be an awards season shaker, and fully deserves to be. Full review here.
BFI
8. BEAST Creepy, tricky and extremely well-acted, this was one of the most unique British films I’ve seen this year and well worth the time of anyone (read: most people) who didn’t get round to seeing it on its limited release. All the key players have bright futures ahead. Full review here.
June Pictures
7. WILDLIFE Some of the best films of 2018 have been about family, but they’re never happy because happy families aren’t interesting. Some people are annoyingly talented at whatever they turn their hand to, and Paul Dano makes first-time directing look easy. He’s already proving to be a real actor’s director with a keen eye. Full review here.
BFI
6. DARK RIVER Families, eh? Who’d have ’em? Clio Barnard needs to make more films; her style is rooted in her home turf, emotionally raw and visually evocative. Ruth Wilson is always excellent, but this may be her finest performance yet as an abuse survivor locking horns with an abuse denier who also happens to be her brother. Full review here.
Worst of 2018:
Dishonourable mention:
Thin Man Films
PETERLOO Were there worse films I saw this year? Yes, but despite being far from technically inept (it actually looks quite good) Mike Leigh’s latest was one of my biggest disappointments of 2018. Aside from the film being clunky, laboured and misjudged, respected directors shouldn’t get away with coasting, with showing contempt for their captive audience, whatever political message they are promoting. Full review here.
Square Enix
10. TOMB RAIDER And the award for blandest film of the year goes to the latest misguided effort to bring video games to the big screen. There’s a lot of talent involved in this (not least Alicia Vikander), but no passion, no excitement and no character that makes any sense. Review in Brief to follow.
Netflix
9. THE OPEN HOUSE Netflix’s first of many appearances on this list (not all low) is just plain uninspiring. Decent performances aside there’s nothing to recommend; we’ve seen it all before and we can see exactly where it’s going and how. How many times do horror movie characters need to go into dark basements alone before they’ll learn? Full review here.
Imaginarium Productions
8. MOWGLI It’s got the title it has because Disney said so. Andy Serkis probably should have just left this as a proof of concept for his mo-cap house Imaginarium. The finished product still feels very much like a work in progress, and making your story darker and more violent doesn’t necessarily make the meaning any deeper. Review in Brief here.
Netflix
7. HOLD THE DARK Be wary of films with “dark” in the title; some people thinks it’s a synonym for “interesting”. Jeremy Saulnier is a good filmmaker unafraid of tackling the ugliness of humanity, but there’s no substance here, just relentless misery. Also turn some lights on, I’m struggling to see people’s outlines, never mind what motivates them! Review in Brief here.
Netflix
6. MUTE Yes, Duncan Jones, I too saw BLADE RUNNER and no, I don’t think it would have been improved with much less intrigue or if it had no idea what it was trying to say. You know all that goodwill you banked from MOON? It’s starting to wain. I really hope you’ve got another good, or at least consistent, one in you at some point. Review in Brief here.
Join me next time for my very best and very worst films of 2018. SSP
Review: Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse (2018)
They’re all the odd one out: Avi Arad Productions/Lord Miller
SPIDER-MAN: INTO THE SPIDER-VERSE is awesome. An awesome animated feature, an awesome superhero movie, an awesome coming-of-age story, an awesome film. Did I mention it was awesome?
When a extra-dimensional portal is opened in New York, recently superpowered Spider-Man Miles Morales (Shameik Moore) bands together with the web-slinging heroes from several alternate realities to save his world, their worlds and the multiverse itself.
I can’t recall the last time I saw something completely new in animation. Spider-Verse’s kinetic, textured and graphically dynamic style can feel like visual information overload at first, but once you get your eye in it’s truly something to behold. If pressed to find an easy descriptor I’d call it Pop Arty, frequently thinking as I did of Roy Lichtenstein’s making a feature of comic printing techniques in his work. Every scene of character interaction pulses with life, every action scene takes turns that surprise, thrill and make you grin like an idiot with their sheer creativity.
I don’t think I’ve laughed as much this year as I did at Miles’s first bungling pigeon-inhibited use of his powers. Well, it’s between that and the saloon fight in BUSTER SCRUGGS. This take is self-aware without cheapening the source material, or wants you to have fun but also for the moments that matter to carry weight.
SPIDER-MAN 2 might still edge it as a stronger individual story, but Spider-Verse is undoubtedly the best film ever about what Spider-Man represents: even when superpowered he is the kid on the street. His origin is so well known they can fast forward through, or cut short each universe’s iteration telling their story as a gag.
Anyone can be Spider-Man (or women, or porcine) given the time. These Spider-People are ordinary, grounded and human, their paths to superherodom only altered by the nature of their personal tragedy and the length of time they have spent in tights. Miles’s only stumbling block is inexperience, once he’s been out there doing whatever a spider can for a while he could be more powerful than any of them.
Something they touched upon in Marvel’s latest Spider-reboot is how excited a younger version of the character would be to become a superhero. Shameik Moore’s vocals as Miles perfectly encapsulate youthful enthusiasm coupled with teenage uncertainty and awkwardness and he builds an endearing chemistry with Gwen Stacey (Hailee Steinfeld). Miles wants all the cool experiences, to make a difference and save his loved ones but knows he’s still really an out-of-his-depth kid. Which is why he needs a mentor, and because it’s a teenager-who-needs-training story that mentor has to be jaded, past it and with questionable fashion sense. That mentor is a Peter Parker pushing 40 (Jake Johnson) who upsettingly wears jogging trousers over his Spider-tights.
Other highlights include Nic Cage’s Spider-Man Noir (“Is he in black-and-white?”) and John Mulaney’s Spider-Ham (“Do animals talk in this dimension? ‘Cause I don’t wanna freak anyone out”). These eclectic characters from far-flung dimensions are used to their worlds operating by a certain set of rules, and often we don’t know what these rules are until it comes out organically in dialogue, like Noir’s colour-blindedness not being apparent until he is dumfounded by a Rubik’s Cube. The intentionally clashing animation styles bouncing off and interacting with each other again add to the film’s vivid individualism and make you marvel at what an impressive feat the three animation directors have achieved.
Miles Morales’s big screen debut is important. So few heroes could give under-represented minorities such a presence on a big stage. Visibility is a start, and it leads to recognition and eventually lasting change. That said, Into the Spider-Verse is not a film with an agenda, and everyone creatively involved simply wanted to tell a good story in the most vibrant, joyous and affecting manner possible. So I implore you to swing on to your nearest, biggest screen and fall in love not only with a new Spider-Man but the very idea of Spider-Man all over again. SSP
Review in Brief: An Evening with Beverly Luff Linn (2018)
I never did review THE GREASY STRANGLER. I’m not even sure I could. I think I might struggle to talk about AN EVENING WITH BEVERLY LUFF LINN as well. Jim Hosking’s follow-up is populated by similarly freakish characters and a deliberately bizarre manner of delivery, but it doesn’t feel as nihilistic and seems to operate in the same postcode as human emotion. It’s got a heart…sometimes. All contained within a grotty hotel, a serial manipulator (Aubrey Plaza) awaits the title character’s unmissable one-night-only show, her boring bodyguard (Jemaine Clement) tries to woo her and Luff Lin’s manager/chaperone/platonic life partner (Matt Berry) tries to keep everything on the rails. When we are told exactly what has been going on this whole time it’s somehow more and less weird than we expected. That’ll probably sum up Hosking’s career going forward; it’s always going to be at odds with people’s sensibilities but you can only release The Greasy Strangler on the world once. SSP
Review in Brief: The Night Comes for Us (2018)
I never thought I’d say this about any martial arts movie, but THE NIGHT COMES FOR US makes THE RAID films look tame. It’s not just the lead who’s a mostly unstoppable killing machine but his friends as well. The body count in this thing! The final battle literally has the two combatants hacking each other to bits and I’ve never seen anything quite like two apparent layabouts defending their flat from an army of henchmen with a surprising array of skills. It’s nice to see Iko Uwais having to stretch himself a bit as a conflicted bad guy, but the film belongs to Joe Taslim and his deranged, battle-ready smile. It’s not deep stuff, and as many sick thrills the non-stop dismemberment and endlessly creative choreography provide, you do find yourself thinking, alright (director) Timo Tjahjanto, dial it back a bit mate! SSP
Review in Brief: Early Man (2018)
EARLY MAN is a gentle, cosy watch. It’s Aardman and Nick Park sticking firmly to his house style, playing it very safe. There’s maybe three cracking jokes in the whole thing, but all the Bristol claymation house’s usual handmade imagination is in evidence everywhere you look. I do think we should be past the laziness of having a “slow” character with crossed eyes in 2018 and I don’t think any of these cavemen or women we spend our time with will be as memorable as the scatter-brained inventors, organised chickens or insecure pirates that Aardman have gifted us with before. I challenge you to name any one of them that’s not voiced by Eddie Redmayne or not an intelligent pig. I’m sure Early Man could become a Sunday afternoon staple for families, but you expect something more memorable from an animation studio so meticulous and committed to doing things the old-fashioned way. SSP
Review: Beast (2017/18)
Impassive and impassioned: Agile Films/BFI
BEAST is just my jam. It’s a dark – bleak even – horror-mystery set in a far-flung and beautiful corner of the UK. It’s also a family drama where the family doesn’t enter into it much, because our lead would rather not have anything to do with a clan who will never understand or accept her for who she is.
On the picturesque and isolated Isle of Jersey, Moll (Jessie Buckley) struggles with people, especially her wealthy and propriety-obsessed family. When she finally makes a connection with a charming stranger she meets after a night of clubbing, Moll sees her life turn around and fill with passion and excitement. But Pascal’s (Johnny Flynn) arrival also coincides with a series of grisly murders that are keeping islanders watching over their shoulders, and the police hot on the heels of a prime suspect…
There’s a long line of characters in fiction called Mal, or Moll as a derivation or thematic link to malice/evil. Beast’s Moll isn’t evil, but she does demonstrate at least a level of sociopathy that only grows more dominant with the passage of time. She just doesn’t get people, and people don’t get her. They see her as little more than an animal with a (documented) history of lashing out, something to keep one eye on and to always be wary of. When she finds someone who finally does seem to understand her, an apparent kindred spirit regarded with equal suspicion by her community, of course she leaps to his defence. It’s really a testament to Buckley’s growth as an actor that she is able to convey Moll’s internal conflict so succinctly, with few words and telling actions and to Flynn’s credit that he’s so effortlessly beguiling an enigma.
I think this film will really resonate with people who know anybody prone to “acting up” on a regular basis. Moll’s mental illness and skewed view on the world is deep-rooted and multi-faceted, though the hostile, ostracising behaviour of her snobby family can’t help matters. We’re used to seeing Geraldine James playing such nice, dignified women, but as mum Hilary she’s absolutely ghastly. She may not have provoked the incident that caused Moll to become an outcast but her brand of tough love and her obsession with family appearances did not help Moll to get over her trauma or make meaningful human connections.
Not everything is answered and every potential answer as to what has really been happening on the island is some shade of disturbing. I’m inclined to lean towards the darkest, most twisted explanation for everything that has occurred. This isn’t one for those who abhor ambiguity; it’s one of those films that ends on a character giving the camera an unreadable look before cutting to black.
Ambiguity is Beast’s main weapon. It works because of the uncertainty. Moll sticks by Pascal because she can’t be certain he’s a killer. Or maybe it’s because the chance that he might be means he could be her screwed-up soulmate. She tries several times to get him to admit it and you don’t get the impression she’d abandon him if he did. The fact that he doesn’t either means that he isn’t, that he is but he doesn’t want to confess, or perhaps that he knows who the killer is and doesn’t want her to know.
I personally can’t wait to see what director Michael Pearce does next, whether he’ll further delve into this dark and twisted corner of human nature, whether he will again discuss what alienation does to a person or whether he’ll make something more cheerful. Jessie Buckley and Johnny Flynn I’m sure will keep making interesting choices and could both be stars in the making. Watch for these faces, and watch Beast if you haven’t already. It’ll stay with you. SSP
Review: Mowgli (2018)
Giving a wolf Peter Mullen’s face and all the other creatures of the jungle distinctive deformities doesn’t make your JUNGLE BOOK adaptation interesting. The mo-capped actors in MOWGLI don’t exactly have to stretch themselves; Bale can always fall back on Batman’s intense growl, Cumberbatch can become Smaug again to boom out threats and Blanchett can revive Galadriel to give the story a mythic quality. At least Serkis had the excuse for not coming up with s new voice of having to direct at the same time. It has the odd memorable image, like Mowgli underwater watching Shere Khan obliviously lap from the pool above him, or Kaa’s visions appearing in the scales of her body. I know Serkis and his crew didn’t have Disney money and they couldn’t help the House of Mouse’s version coming out first and far more prominently, but this looks retrograde, uncanny and indistinct in comparison, which is a huge shame. SSP
Review in Brief: Apostle (2018)
Gareth Evans’s APOSTLE has three things going for it: another killer propulsive soundtrack from Aria Prayogi and Fajar Yuskemal (THE RAID), the director’s usual grisly visual panache, and Michael Sheen. The rest of it is a misstep for the previously untouchable Welsh expat. I really like Dan Stevens as an actor, but this expert at playing psychological instability cannot bring depth to a character where there isn’t any to be found in the lacking script. We’ve hit all these horror beats before with much more impact. Folk horror in THE WICKER MAN, which Apostle borrows its story structure from, was scarier because it was more grounded and mundane. The occult/horror-fantasy elements are a messy mishmash and even Evans’s usual brand of ultraviolence seems without much purpose. I can’t say it’s not bold and I do respect Evans for trying something different, but I’ve no idea what it was meant to make me feel. SSP
Review: Shoplifters (2018)
“In this life, one thing counts”… : AOI Promotion/Fuji Television Network
The list of Japanese films about petty crime and forgotten underclasses is short. The other that immediately springs to mind is TOKYO GODFATHERS and like Satoshi Kon’s Christmas animation, SHOPLIFTERS follows an unconventional family unit brought together on the streets by chance, and by love.
The shoplifting Shibata family take in another child when they find her abandoned on the streets. The girl is taught the family trade while the Shibatas face further financial difficulties and have doubts about their misbegotten way of life.
Japan has a relatively low crime rate and as a culture is particularly unforgiving of larceny. In addition to harsh sentencing for such crimes (not considered petty), being caught trying to steal someone else’s property is the antithesis of Japan’s culture of respect for each other. Writer-director Hirokazu Koreeda is taking his society’s strict morality to task. He isn’t making excuses for those who commit crime but merely asking us to acknowledge that the situation is rarely black-and-white. Who are we to judge someone’s desperate actions if we don’t know the full story?
Young Shota (Jyo Kairi making an amazing debut) gets the chance so few of us do – to choose his family. He was found on the streets and his real family are a distant memory, but he only has to stick with those who took him in, to remain a Shibata as long as he remains happy. He has other options. Because she is temporarily remembered by her abusive family (and the world is watching) Lin/Yuri (Miyu Sasaki) may not ever get that same chance. She is mistreated and deeply unhappy by the family she is born into but they will not let her go because of how poorly it would reflect on them.
“Don’t make her do it” says the kindly corner shop owner. Crime is never victimless, much as the Fagin-like patriarch Osamu (Lily Franky) would have his family believe. He does it because he can, because he always has done and because he gets a kick out of it. Everyone else in the family does it as a last resort, supplementing meagre incomes from legitimate sources. As the scales fall from Shota’s eyes and his “dad” takes more risks for greater reward, he has a crisis of morality and realises that all some people care about is money. He loves his new family and they love him back, but he can no longer in good conscience go along with their lifestyle, especially when he sees the path the impressionable Lin is being drawn towards.
Surrogate mother Nobuyo (Sakura Andô) is the undoubted MVP of this ensemble. A good portion of the film’s final stretch is focussed just on Andô’s face as she has to justify not just her questionable actions, but herself, to the police. Osamu did what he did primarily out of greed with pity and love as an afterthought. Nobuyo really wanted to be a mother, to forge the family denied to her and to atone for her life’s mistakes and she ends up paying the price and taking the rap for her whole family. As harshly as the Japanese authorities deal with thieves, what really does the family in is a further transgression they commit that flouts the Japanese need for dignity and respect in all things.
Grandma (Kirin Kiki) is a more complex figure to analyse. She seems to have lived a whole other life with her late husband before they separated, he died and this new family gathered around her. She happily accepts money for looking after her late husband’s granddaughter Aki (Mayu Matsuoka) on behalf of her unloving parents and encourages the family’s criminal activities despite being able to live off her decent pension. She objects to new additions to the household and having more mouths to feed (fully expecting crime to supplement them before her own income) but comes to care for them all deeply, though she’d never come out and say it to their faces.
Shoplifters is a story about love. The Shibatas all love each other, eventually, and we come to love them all during the time we spend with them. It’s a film made in the small moments, in pure instances of bottled emotion. The family playing on a beach, huddling together listening for celebratory fireworks they can’t see, building a snowman because proud men don’t know how to say sorry. Every member of the family has their reasons for leading the life they do, some of them have a choice and some do not, but they are in it together until the day when circumstances force them apart. Shoplifters is humanist poetry on film. SSP
