Meewella | Critic

According to P

Tag: Robbie Ryan

QuickView: Poor Things (2023)

“I found nothing but sugar and violence.”

Bella Baxter

Where The Favourite lulled viewers into a false sense of security before indulging in Yorgos Lanthimos’ sly humour, Poor Things is open with its weirdness from the start. Adapted from Alasdair Gray’s novel, Poor Things is at its core a film about a young woman’s discovery of herself and the world, told through a kind of steampunk historic fable with a visual style reminiscent of Terry Gilliam. The opening chapter is steeped in gothic imagery, a scarred Willem Dafoe embodying both Dr Frankenstein and his monster, literally playing God as he shortens his name, Godwin. Lanthimos reunites with Emma Stone as Godwin’s creation, Bella, who begins undeveloped despite her adult body, toddling and prone to tantrums, the puffy shoulders of her costumes creating an unstable, top-heavy silhouette like the strange chimeric animals that fill the lavish house. I opted to see a rare 35mm film screening which faithfully recreated the cinematography choices, like lenses that provided distortion and mismatched sizing to heighten vignetting, replicating the effect of early cameras. Colour arrives as Bella sets off to travel Europe, accentuating the film’s painted backgrounds. Bella’s immaturity grants her the freedom typically commanded by men of the period, freed from societal constraints as she applies logic without understanding. Emma Stone’s performance is fascinating as Bella evolves over the course of the film in both knowledge and capability, whilst the men around her stagnate — it is a rare opportunity for a single actor to take a character from early childhood to realised adulthood. In the abstract many of the intermediate scenes are bizarre and uncomfortable — particularly given the quantity of sex — and Poor Things must have required extreme trust from its actors that Lanthimos would successfully tie this all together. He has always been a director of singular vision but here it seems stripped of pretension, producing something sly yet whimsical, witty yet haunting.

9/10

QuickView: C’mon C’mon (2021)

“I’m not fine and that’s a totally reasonable response!”

Johnny

Precocious younger children in films have a tendency to be written as cloyingly sweet or unrealistically witty, a trap that Mike Mills largely avoids with Jesse — this is elevated by Woody Norman’s naturalistic performance, as infuriating as he is charming, and knowledgeable without undue wisdom. C’mon C’mon’s overarching theme is fear and hope for the future, explored most overtly through genuine interviews with American children who candidly articulate their concerns to radio journalists played by Joaquin Phoenix and Radiolab producer Molly Webster. This is crystallised in Jesse who has a general awareness that his neurodivergent father is troubled and fears the same fate will befall him. Whilst his mother tends to his father, Jesse is left in the care of his uncle Johnny, whom Phoenix portrays as unprepared but not unwilling. As an uncle to a fascinatingly intelligent nephew, I was immediately drawn into this relationship, presented not in idealised fashion but with insecurity and rage alongside the friendship blossoming between them. Set across LA, New York and New Orleans, the black and white cinematography renders the cities more orderly without the cacophony of colour, in a way that suits the focus on audio recording. Whilst there is a slight air of artificiality to its setup, C’mon C’mon is successful in highlighting children’s own oft-ignored anxiety for the future rather than merely using them as a mirror for adults’ apprehension.

8/10

QuickView: Marriage Story (2019)

Marriage Story poster

“Getting divorced with a kid is one of the hardest things to do. It’s like a death without a body.”

Bert Spitz

In The Meyerowitz Stories, I praised Noah Baumbach’s ear for conversational dialogue, which he deploys here to greater effect in a script that prizes raw emotion above the indie intellectualism of his recent output. This is a nuanced, even-handed exploration of the personal toll of fractious divorce, worsened by legal tactical considerations (I cannot think of a starker reminder of why I considered family law for only a moment), strongly reminiscent of Kramer v Kramer. Similarly, the film rests upon two powerhouse central performance, both Adam Driver and Scarlett Johansson delivering award-worthy turns. They allow us to sympathise with privileged characters whose circumstances are far from universal even if their personal problems are more familiar. Of note is an intense single-take argument at the centre of the film, in which we see two people who know exactly how to hurt one another even when they have no intention of doing so. It feels slightly more scripted than the sublimely natural extended argument in Before Midnight, but it highlights perfectly the tragedy and loss of control inherent in the expiry of any loving relationship.

9/10

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

QuickView: The Meyerowitz Stories (New and Selected) (2017)

“It was like walking barefoot through broken glass to get a milkshake. I loved the milkshake, but, you know, my feet were bleeding.”

Danny

Writer/director Noah Baumbach has an exceptional ear for conversational dialogue, the way it actually occurs rather than witty repartee stylised for the screen. The fractious relationships of the Meyerowitz family are evident in the way they talk at cross-purposes — sometimes engaged in entirely different conversations — or respond to what they want to hear rather than what was actually said. As fascinating as this is, the characters lack real depth despite the high-profile cast, and the film drifts weightlessly through its disjointed scenes with little to say.

6/10

"A film is a petrified fountain of thought."

(CC) BY-NC 2003-2023 Priyan Meewella

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