Meewella | Critic

According to P

Tag: Andrew Scott

QuickView: Catherine Called Birdy (2022)

“When you try to bend the ways of the world, I will cheer for you, Birdy, but I fear for you.”

Lady Aislinn

Lena Dunham’s adaptation of Karen Cushman’s YA novel is mirthful medieval mischief, a fresh coming-of-age story that should entertain families beyond its direct target of adolescent girls. This is a feminist tale, with Birdy rebelling against attempts at marrying her off to solve the family’s financial woes. The novel was written in the form of a diary and that is the conceit for Birdy’s voiceover, essentially extracts from the book. The script is recognisably Dunham’s work, frank but generally approaching female hardship with a light touch, aided by a period setting that has no pretence at historical accuracy. The anachronistic soundtrack is also notable, creating an unusually cohesive backdrop through a series of pop covers by London singer Misty Miller. Bella Ramsey is wonderfully expressive as the impetuous Birdy, backed by Andrew Scott’s characteristic blend of comedic charm and emotional depth as Birdy’s profligate father, and an almost unrecognisable Billie Piper as her supportive but concerned mother. The 12A certificate seems appropriate primarily for an intense birthing scene — this is not House of the Dragon, but Dunham does not sanitise it either as the experience leaves an impression on Birdy, catalysing her changing view of her parents. Rebellious girls are likely to love Catherine Called Birdy; others should find it an enjoyable diversion.

7/10

QuickView: 1917 (2019)

1917 poster

“They’re walking into a trap. Your orders are to deliver a message calling off tomorrow morning’s attack. If you fail, it will be a massacre.”

General Erinmore

An unconventional approach to a war movie, 1917 follows two young soldiers in near realtime as they journey across no man’s land and through enemy territory to deliver a vital message. Sam Mendes’ directorial conceit is a faux unbroken continuous shot, like Birdman but serving greater narrative purpose here. The first half hour is intentionally slow, swiftly setting up the plot but allowing us time to understand the two soldiers through simple conversation that reveals one as fresh and idealistic, the other as disillusioned by his experience of combat. The isolation punctuated by limited combat is reminiscent of Enemy at the Gates at least in atmosphere. Roger Deakins’ cinematography keeps the camera moving around the actors through long takes (although nothing so densely choreographed as Atonement‘s Dunkirk sequence), creating a real sense of space and often acting almost as an additional character through whom the audience observes. The grim depiction of corpse-littered battlefields — and the men’s ambivalence to such sights — leave no pretence at glorification of war. However, 1917 is still beautifully shot, particularly the stunning lighting in its night time sequences. Recognisable actors play only brief roles as commanding officers; the rank and file are a sea of unfamiliar faces, aiding the immersion. It is ultimately George MacKay who carries the film, desperation and weariness etched into his face.

9/10

"A film is a petrified fountain of thought."

(CC) BY-NC 2003-2023 Priyan Meewella

Up ↑