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narcasseTransatlantic flights make for useful film-watching occasions when there are a few films that I’ve caught wind of but not managed to get around to watching. This year I managed three while avoiding anything that looked like it promised the sort of pointless waste of my time that Franklyn was.
Shutter Island hadn’t struck me as a particularly complicated film and I’d been making jokes about it devolving into Return to Castle Wolfenstein in cinematic format for quite some time. Then I caught sight of a few reviews lambasting the surreal sequences and the final ending which piqued my interest. I wanted to see if the occasional surreal sequence worked like that strange chapter in Mann’s Doktor Faustus which surprised me because I didn’t see it coming. Besides, despite some bad role choices or rather one stunningly bad choice in the past Leonardo DiCaprio is a formidable actor who is always worth watching, and on that note I can see why he was rejected for the role of Bateman in the American Psycho adaptation: he would have been far too terrifying.
As it turns out Shutter Island instead of being a clichéd semi-riff on the Wolfenstein franchise was actually a pretty watchable film. The initial premise was clichéd but in the vein of The Wicker Man’s initial setup (and by The Wicker Man I mean the original and not that other production for which even Lord of War barely redeems Nicholas Cage) it segued nicely into the fairly predictable inversion of control and sanity that usually occurs in these sorts of films. The illustration of the switchover was a little bit of a let down until one particular scene where the main character had a discussion about perception and manipulation with another character (a discussion which later turns out only to have happened in his head) which was particularly insightful. Then came the final act with the truth revealed and a while I wasn’t terribly disappointed with the film I wasn’t particularly taken with it up until the very end. The end, DiCaprio’s last lines, really do elevate a fairly enjoyable but generic film above the rest of the genre. Thus it becomes a commentary on sanity, perception, coping mechanisms and human will. The viewer’s perceptions of situations and characters change dramatically after all and yet at the very end the main character certain fulfils his personal directive of being ‘a good man’.
Like Shutter Island, The Ghost Writer was a film with a vaguely interesting premise and a good leading actor. Ewan McGregor is one of those actors who tends to turn up in various films that I find worth watching almost as if by accident, likewise Olivia Williams seems to be starting to do just the same thing.
This is one of those films where I strongly suspect that the joke is deliberately on the US and not at all with them, but in such a wonderfully British way that all the subtleties are going to be entirely missed in favour of the larger plot as despite being a political thriller, I laughed in a good many places. The geopolitics presented were basic at best but they only really served as the backdrop to the atmospheric pacing. Even the discovering of damning and critical evidence part way through wasn’t so much the focus as was the paranoid atmosphere the that main character found himself in, a paranoia that was entirely justified as the end of the film bore out. That said, Robert Harris’ novel will doubtlessly be more complex and its roman à clef credentials certainly are prompt enough for me to pick up a copy at some point.
I Love You Phillip Morris was a wildcard because it was that or watch the remake of Clash of the Titans before attempting to get some sleep and it struck me as the least offensive of my choices. It also starred Ewan McGregor again who I hoped would offset the usual over the top Jim Carrey humour. I’m not a fan of comedy films for the most part and usually Jim Carrey is far too goofy for my taste.
All that said I Love Your Phillip Morris turned out to be another rather good film. It was a little daft, a little silly but suitably serious and funny in turns. Though not mentioned explicitly there were serious issues raised and touched on with weight enough to elicit the same dry smile of understanding as evinced by many a conversation in daily life. After all, everything is political, just ask Harvey Milk.
Shutter Island hadn’t struck me as a particularly complicated film and I’d been making jokes about it devolving into Return to Castle Wolfenstein in cinematic format for quite some time. Then I caught sight of a few reviews lambasting the surreal sequences and the final ending which piqued my interest. I wanted to see if the occasional surreal sequence worked like that strange chapter in Mann’s Doktor Faustus which surprised me because I didn’t see it coming. Besides, despite some bad role choices or rather one stunningly bad choice in the past Leonardo DiCaprio is a formidable actor who is always worth watching, and on that note I can see why he was rejected for the role of Bateman in the American Psycho adaptation: he would have been far too terrifying.
As it turns out Shutter Island instead of being a clichéd semi-riff on the Wolfenstein franchise was actually a pretty watchable film. The initial premise was clichéd but in the vein of The Wicker Man’s initial setup (and by The Wicker Man I mean the original and not that other production for which even Lord of War barely redeems Nicholas Cage) it segued nicely into the fairly predictable inversion of control and sanity that usually occurs in these sorts of films. The illustration of the switchover was a little bit of a let down until one particular scene where the main character had a discussion about perception and manipulation with another character (a discussion which later turns out only to have happened in his head) which was particularly insightful. Then came the final act with the truth revealed and a while I wasn’t terribly disappointed with the film I wasn’t particularly taken with it up until the very end. The end, DiCaprio’s last lines, really do elevate a fairly enjoyable but generic film above the rest of the genre. Thus it becomes a commentary on sanity, perception, coping mechanisms and human will. The viewer’s perceptions of situations and characters change dramatically after all and yet at the very end the main character certain fulfils his personal directive of being ‘a good man’.
Like Shutter Island, The Ghost Writer was a film with a vaguely interesting premise and a good leading actor. Ewan McGregor is one of those actors who tends to turn up in various films that I find worth watching almost as if by accident, likewise Olivia Williams seems to be starting to do just the same thing.
This is one of those films where I strongly suspect that the joke is deliberately on the US and not at all with them, but in such a wonderfully British way that all the subtleties are going to be entirely missed in favour of the larger plot as despite being a political thriller, I laughed in a good many places. The geopolitics presented were basic at best but they only really served as the backdrop to the atmospheric pacing. Even the discovering of damning and critical evidence part way through wasn’t so much the focus as was the paranoid atmosphere the that main character found himself in, a paranoia that was entirely justified as the end of the film bore out. That said, Robert Harris’ novel will doubtlessly be more complex and its roman à clef credentials certainly are prompt enough for me to pick up a copy at some point.
I Love You Phillip Morris was a wildcard because it was that or watch the remake of Clash of the Titans before attempting to get some sleep and it struck me as the least offensive of my choices. It also starred Ewan McGregor again who I hoped would offset the usual over the top Jim Carrey humour. I’m not a fan of comedy films for the most part and usually Jim Carrey is far too goofy for my taste.
All that said I Love Your Phillip Morris turned out to be another rather good film. It was a little daft, a little silly but suitably serious and funny in turns. Though not mentioned explicitly there were serious issues raised and touched on with weight enough to elicit the same dry smile of understanding as evinced by many a conversation in daily life. After all, everything is political, just ask Harvey Milk.
