Meewella | Critic

According to P

Tag: Olivia Colman

QuickView: Wonka (2023)

“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: Empire of Light (2022)

“It creates an illusion of motion. An illusion of life. Out there, they just see a beam of light. And nothing happens without light.”

Norman

Empire of Light has been marketed as Sam Mendes’ ode to cinema, and that can been seen in its setting — an ageing independent cinema on the English south coast — and the poetic lines about the medium intoned by Toby Jones as the fastidious projectionist. This is all set dressing, however, to a story that really focuses on the relationship between Michael Ward and Olivia Colman’s characters, unfolding amidst the racial unrest of the early 1980s. Unfortunately the characters are all written as one-note sketches — the entire cast works admirably with the material but even a titan like Colman can only do so much with the cliché of an emotionally unstable older woman enamoured with a younger man. This is Mendes’ first solo writing credit and it seems, at least for now, his writing cannot match his directorial skill. He is most effective in portraying racism in varied guises, both direct and insinuated. Empire of Light is all beautifully presented in the hands of veteran cinematographer Roger Deakins (who has now collaborated on around half of Mendes’ films) accompanied by a gently moving score from Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross. With so much talent involved, it seems harsh to judge the film based significantly on the script alone, but this kind of quiet, emotional picture is ultimately dependent on quality writing. My impression from the trailer was that Mendes was looking to emulate Cinema Paradiso and I feared he might engage in too much navel-gazing about the importance of cinema. In truth, I could have done with more.

6/10

QuickView: The Lost Daughter (2021)

The Lost Daughter poster

“I am an unnatural mother.”

Leda

Olivia Colman delivers a powerfully understated performance in Maggie Gyllenhaal’s directorial debut, a moody character exploration of a woman’s troubled past, which rises to the surface during a beach holiday alone. Colman is initially charming as the academic Leda, lonely and awkward as she can be, but this gradually wears away over the film’s two hours as we glimpse something darker beneath. With its structure hinting at a mystery, Gyllenhaal’s script leaves some motivations deliberately (if frustratingly) vague, but it is through seeing Jessie Buckley play Leda as a young mother that we recognise more overtly impulsive and selfish characteristics that are veiled⁠ — yet still present ⁠— in Colman’s performance. Through the family Leda meets on the beach, The Lost Daughter casts its net wider in addressing the societal expectations placed on young mothers in contrast to the harsh reality of parenting and the inescapable resentment and regret at lost opportunity despite love for one’s children.

7/10

QuickView: The Mitchells vs The Machines (2021)

The Mitchells vs The Machines

“I’ve always felt a little different than everyone else, so I did what any outsider would do. Made weird art.”

Katie Mitchell

Following an unconventional family unexpectedly caught in a robot uprising, The Mitchells vs The Machines is really about family relationships, and the need to find common ground and ways to communicate. Continuing the looser approach to animation style from Into the Spider-verse, the art direction blends detailed 3D animation, flatter cell-shading, and sporadic flairs through 2D overlays. The result lends the incredibly polished production a handmade feel, mirroring Katie’s amateur filmmaking and bringing to mind the creative low-fi filmmaking in Michel Gondry’s Be Kind Rewind. Reference humour spans the generations, from Internet memes to older movies (numerous nods to Kill Bill are an unexpected choice). Like Wall-E there is an underlying warning about lazy reliance on technology, although it’s all rather on the nose, with the disaster caused by a young billionaire tech entrepreneur named Mark (“It’s almost like stealing people’s data and giving it to a hyper-intelligent AI as part of an unregulated tech monopoly was a bad thing”). Its depth may be limited to its family dynamics, but spending a couple of hours with the Mitchells is raucous fun and it is hard not to root for a family who plainly love one another, even if their abilities place them at the opposite end of the spectrum to the Incredibles.

8/10

QuickView: The Favourite (2018)

The Favourite quad poster

“Sometimes, you look like a badger. And you can rely on me to tell you. “

Lady Sarah

Sumptuous period costuming allows The Favourite initially to lull the viewer into a false sense of familiarity before Yorgos Lanthimos’s sly humour and trademark weirdness emerge. More accessible than The Lobster (perhaps in part because he is adapting an existing screenplay), The Favourite is a delightful, subversive take on politics in the court of Queen Anne and the rivalry between two of her closest confidants. Plainly fictionalised, the film relies less on historical accuracy than the believability of its leads — three women at the height of their game. Rachel Weisz is coldly ruthless, Emma Stone vulnerable but deceptive, and Olivia Colman is excellent, earning an Oscar by carving a genuinely tragic figure at the centre of this dark comedy.

8/10

"A film is a petrified fountain of thought."

(CC) BY-NC 2003-2023 Priyan Meewella

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