Meewella | Critic

According to P

Author: |[P]| (page 1 of 59)

QuickView: The Outrun (2024)

1 January 2025 | | Reading Time: 2 minutes | 0 Comments
The Outrun

“I miss it. I miss how good it made me feel.”

Rona

The Outrun is a layered depiction of alcohol rehabilitation, adapted from Scottish journalist Amy Liptrot’s memoir, with a focus on resilience rather than trite lessons. Elevating The Outrun are writer-director Nora Fingscheidt’s cinematic choices and Saoirse Ronan’s captivatingly raw central performance. Opening with the myth of the selkie is an apt metaphor for the restless Rona who has returned from London to her family farm on the Orkney Islands. Although Rona’s alcohol dependency is signposted at the outset, she is already in recovery in the film’s present day and Fingscheidt uses overlapping storytelling gradually to reveal Rona’s past as a graduate student in London. A third layer is Rona’s mind, showing her current focus which might include new information she is absorbing or ruminations about her childhood. In the first half, these feel chaotic but they become more grounded as time progresses. Rona’s bi-polar father seems to serve as a constant reminder of what she could become (“if you go mad in Orkney, they just fly you out”) while her mother offers religious support that Rona cannot accept. The colour and momentum of London sequences are contrasted with the desaturated, cloudy light of the islands — often Saoirse’s eyes are the most vibrant thing on screen. This use of colour appears to reflect Rona’s connection with life, warmer tones only arriving late in the film. The sound design also deserves a mention, from the ever-present wind rising and falling to the unorthodox juxtaposition of island nature with dance music through Rona’s headphones, perhaps a vain attempt artificially to inject old energy into her new life. There is no shortage of films which tackle alcoholism and many offer greater drama through devastating tragedy or feel-good catharsis; instead The Outrun blends the elements of its film-making into a very personal experience of recovery, trusting that Rona’s resilience alone will prove edifying.

9/10

QuickView: Aporia (2023)

31 December 2024 | | Reading Time: < 1 minute | 0 Comments

“There is no undo button.”

Jabir Karim

All time machine movies are essentially about grief or regret, the two things that drive people to change the past. Aporia embraces this entirely with its focus on a woman who has the opportunity to prevent her husband being killed by a drunk driver but becomes obsessively guilt-ridden over the resulting impact on the driver’s family. The title’s reference to doubt resulting from philosophical objections without proffered solutions is apt for the conundrum faced by the three main characters, ordinary people collectively seeking to decide what to do with a power they now wield without fully understanding. This is lo-fi garage-engineering in the vein of Primer, with a small-scale focus on the human impact like About Time. These choices allow the audience to accept Aporia’s flawed characters and imperfect logic, its atmosphere aided by the underappreciated Judy Greer’s subdued performance as the grief-stricken Sophie. The script may be a little overwrought and weepy, but Moshé has succeeded in crafting a thoughtful and moving addition to the time machine canon.

7/10

QuickView: Look Back (2024)

28 December 2024 | | Reading Time: < 1 minute | 0 Comments
Look Back

“All you gotta do is look at my back as I lead the way.”

Ayumi Fujino

Adapted from the manga by Chainsaw Man-creator Tatsuki Fujimoto, Look Back begins as a simple tale about two girls who bond over a love of manga its focus broadens into how people affect each other’s lives and why we create art. There is evidently a level of autobiography — the central characters Fujino and Kyomoto are derived from Fujimoto’s name — but the pair have very different personalities, one gregarious and one a recluse, each inspiring the other to improve. There is a deliberate roughness to the art style of Look Back, particularly the character designs which often bear the hallmarks of initial sketches rather than final inks. Much is told through body language, like the artist slumped over a desk. The writing is simple, and trusts the audience to pick up on time shifts and the magical realism that enters later on. Look Back introduces more nuanced themes in its second half but, at just under an hour, it lacks the the time to explore these ideas. This slight morsel is satisfying yet one is left with a sense that delving deeper could have been more rewarding.

7/10

QuickView: The Lie (2018)

28 December 2024 | | Reading Time: < 1 minute | 0 Comments

“Bet they thought they were going to get away with it, huh?”

Sam

A dour, icy thriller in which an estranged couple is drawn into a rapidly expanding lie to protect their daughter, The Lie has an atypical focus on the family dynamic rather than the investigation of the central crime. The emotional impact of guilt, complicity and protectiveness are seen primarily in Enos and Sarsgaard’s performances, whilst Joey King has little opportunity to demonstrate range with a character who seems to have shut down for most of the film. The cinematography imbues The Lie with a sense of chilly isolation, its desaturated palette leaning toward blues and greys. The tension still relies on there being a risk of exposure, which is where The Lie breaks down as characters repeatedly make unfathomable decisions while law enforcement’s progress seems entirely fortuitous. It is adapted from the German film Wir Monsters, so it is difficult to determine where responsibility lies for its narrative failures — the sort of lazy writing that uses a missing person’s mobile phone records as a key plot point but seems to forget that any other character also carries a phone. Wherever the fault lies, it robs The Lie of credibility and engagement.

5/10

QuickView: Wonka (2023)

26 December 2024 | | Reading Time: 2 minutes | 0 Comments

“Many people have come here to sell chocolate, they’ve all been crushed by the Chocolate Cartel. You can’t get a shop without selling chocolate, and you can’t sell chocolate without a shop.”

Abacus Crunch

If Tim Burton’s adaptation of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory taught us anything, it was that people did not need to know about Willy Wonka’s origins. Wonka has taken the opposite lesson, devoting an entire film to the eccentric chocolatier’s youth. As one might expect from the director of the Paddington films, there is considerable charm in the story of Wonka befriending an orphan and struggling to sell his confections despite the control of the “Chocolate Cartel” (seemingly a riff on Dahl’s villainous triumvirate from Fantastic Mr Fox). The unnamed European mish-mash of a city never comes alive in the same way as Paddington’s whimsical London, but Wonka conjures some visual delight if only hinting at the more impressive factory we have seen elsewhere. Chalomet’s Wonka is kinder, with a more approachable eccentricity than previous big screen incarnations, and he is surrounded by a stellar cast with cameos from a swathe of British comedians. As a musical, however, Wonka falls down — singing is not Chalomet’s forte and most of the songs feel like offcuts from Sweeney Todd. It is a disappointing indictment for a musical that the only memorable parts of the soundtrack are the few nods to the 50-year-old Mel Stuart film. Overall, then, Wonka is an unnecessary extension to the man’s mythos but not without its charm.

6/10

QuickView: Madame Web (2024)

21 November 2024 | | Reading Time: 2 minutes | 0 Comments

“Let’s try that again.”

Cassandra Webb

Let’s not, and say we did. Madame Web is Sony’s second big budget disaster in its attempt to build out a Spider-man spin-off universe and, for a woman who can see the future and correct mistakes, Cassandra Webb perhaps ought to have arrived before superhero fatigue set in. That alone is no excuse given Sony’s animated success, but audiences have no patience for a muddled and uninspired comicbook origin story that is, ironically, so focused on the the future that it forgets to be interesting in the present. 15 minutes into the film, we see an intriguing glimpse of three super-powered women killing the villain in a recurring a dream that haunts him. That promise (heavily featured in the marketing) is never realised; instead, Madame Web has Cassandra babysitting three teenage girls who might be relevant in another movie. The film has a habit of killing off characters before we have any connection to them, neutering the impact, while Ezekiel’s dialogue is too overwrought to be threatening (“it’s a good thing you had no idea today was the day you were going to die”), worsened by distractingly bad ADR. The action cinematography was nauseating within the first ten minutes, relying on repeated shaky cam and rapid cuts. In fact the only element of subtlety is a coquettish refusal to speak Peter Parker’s name despite myriad heavy handed references (“Mr Ben Parker here did all the work”). It is rare for a Hollywood blockbuster to underwhelm in every aspect of its production but such is the case here — Madame Web ranges from bland to incompetent without the benefit of being enjoyably awful.

3/10

QuickView: Daddio (2023)

20 November 2024 | | Reading Time: < 1 minute | 0 Comments

“I’m not claiming to be some Sherlock or something, just a guy who pays attention.”

Clark

A bottle movie set inside a New York cab on a single night time journey from the airport, writer-director Christy Hall’s terribly titled debut is an acting showcase for Dakota Johnson and Sean Penn as their characters discuss emotive aspects of their lives and relationships. Hall’s script is thoughtful if not deeply insightful, capturing the kind of late-night conversation that I love and the honesty that can emerge between total strangers. The driver is perceptive but not artificially erudite, often vulgar in expressing his cynical worldview. His customer is sweet and smart, yet seems wearier than the older man. Most impressive is the camera work within such tight confines, using the glass and lighting to place the viewer inside the cab — one shot frames Johnson’s face perfectly through the open partition, while keeping Penn in view. The characters are well matched, each able to make the other uncomfortable and frequently the camera captures these reactions rather than remaining on the speaker. It is these features of the film making, rather than the characters or their insights, that draw in the audience and makes me curious to see where Hall goes from here.

7/10

QuickView: Inside Out 2 (2024)

17 November 2024 | | Reading Time: 2 minutes | 0 Comments

“Riley’s life is more complex now. She needs more sophisticated emotions than all of you. You’re just not what she needs anymore.“

Anxiety

In 2015, Inside Out’s anthropomorphised emotions were a rare beacon of creativity in the midst of a Pixar slate populated by sequels. Now itself a sequel, Inside Out 2 loses some of that freshness — as well as director Pete Doctor, who went on to helm Soul — but it builds effectively on the original’s premise with a meaningful story to tell. With Riley now 13, puberty brings a flood of new teenage emotions — Anxiety, Envy, Embarassment, and Ennui — coinciding with a trip to ice hockey camp. The external coming of age story is familiar and rote; inside, Anxiety and Joy vie for control, with competing ideas about the person Riley should be. Despite a handful of cast changes, the voice acting is wonderfully engaging throughout. Visually, Inside Out 2 replicates the inner world of its predecessor without showing much new. The notable exceptions are two characters in Riley’s memory depicted in different art styles — a 2D children’s cartoon parody and a moody videogame protagonist. Their brief inclusion, whilst humourous, seems almost perfunctory and it stands in contrast to the cleverly blended animation styles found in titles like Across the Spider-verse or The Mitchells vs the Machines. This is an enjoyable but lesser sequel, then, but it contains a worthwhile message for adolescents that personality is multifaceted, a holistic reflection of our experiences and emotions.

7/10

QuickView: Tableau (2022)

14 November 2024 | | Reading Time: < 1 minute | 0 Comments

“Like I said, we’re going to put this behind us and move on. You understand that this doesn’t change anything, right?”

Michelle

A coming of age film that deals with sensitive but common familial issues — infidelity and illness — Tableau is a professional-looking debut from writer-director Stuart Howes that struggles to find depth despite its subject matter. Tableau follows Nicole, a photography student on the cusp of establishing her independence, who struggles to deal with her mother’s nonchalant revelation of an affair. Sofia Smith’s performance is filled with subtle expressions that draw in the audience. However the dialogue is hopelessly stilted in both writing and delivery, worsened by what appears to be heavy use of ADR in post-production. What should be intimate scenes feel jarringly artificial. Nicole’s attempt to navigate the balance between family responsibilities and forging her own path is interesting, but Tableau has little insight to offer. There is also a bizarre choice to switch to the mother’s perspective in the film’s closing shots, suggesting that Howes intends for the audience to empathise with her but it is far too late to have any impact. Overall this confusion of filmmaking tools is not a failure but it strips Tableau of any real effectiveness.

5/10

QuickView: The Substance (2024)

13 November 2024 | | Reading Time: 2 minutes | 0 Comments
The Substance poster

“This is simply a better version of yourself.”

The Substance

Writer/director Coralie Fargeat delivers a bold vision with her second feature, an allegory of societal views on aging and the fetishisation of youth, explored through the medium of uncompromising body horror. Demi Moore’s performance as an aging star discarded by Hollywood has been widely regarded as a career best, and she fully sells Elisabeth’s extreme decision to use a secretive serum that creates a new youthful body but requires her to alternate between the two. There is significant nudity from both Moore and Margaret Qualley (as the younger self) and it is the sequences of them scrutinising their own and each other’s appearances that communicate the most — there is a tenderness tinged with jealousy toward Elisabeth’s younger self and a carelessness toward her older self. These intimate sequences at home are contrasted by more sexualised and objectifying camerawork in her professional life. The Substance certainly has more to say than Old, and Fargeat’s extreme visuals capitalise on ideas that The Neon Demon failed to execute. The film makes excellent use of architecture to unsettle the audience, with diabolically long corridors or a piercingly white sterile bathroom. Much of the film unfolds within Elisabeth’s isolated Hollywood mansion in the hills yet she is haunted by the impossibly high billboard staring through her living window, representing the inescapable images of youth thrust daily in our faces. The Substance does not preach any message beyond “the balance must be respected” and it is certainly not anti-youth, recognising that the young find themselves trapped in work so that the old can relax. The film cannot be accused of subtlety — Dennis Quaid’s lascivious Hollywood producer is presented as an avatar of grotesque consumption — but viewers will either love or hate the crass excess of its closing 20 minutes. I would have found The Substance more effective without this, but there is no doubt that Fargeat has delivered a vivid and memorable experience.

8/10

Older posts

"A film is a petrified fountain of thought."

(CC) BY-NC 2003-2023 Priyan Meewella

Up ↑