Chris At The Pictures: netflix
Showing posts with label netflix. Show all posts
Showing posts with label netflix. Show all posts

Saturday, 20 October 2018

'The Streaming Pile' - October 2018

10/20/2018 10:31:00 am 0
'The Streaming Pile' - October 2018


Welcome to this first edition of The Streaming Pile; my excuse to use a good pun thinly disguised as a monthly column discussing the latest crop of Netflix', er, 'cinematic' content. This month saw the release of three fairly high-profile films (as opposed to the usual strain of Friday night horror dreck): Operation Finale, 22 July, and Apostle.

Chris Weitz (directing for the first time since 2011's A Better Life) oversees Operation Finale, a historical thriller detailing the hunt for Nazi war criminal and architect of the "Final Solution", Adolph Eichmann (Ben Kingsley). On his trail is Oscar Isaac as Mossad agent Peter Malkin. Malkin tracks Eichmann to Buenos Aires, but complications arise when he and his team must secure their prisoner's signature, to officiate his appearance before a court in Israel. 


The scenes between Isaac and Kingsley are - as one would expect from two of Hollywood's finest presences - riveting, and there's certainly thrills (however scattershot) to be had in the Argo-like mission to capture Eichmann. The supporting cast are - perhaps as a result of having to square up to the two leads - somewhat less engaging, and the casting of American comedy staple Nick Kroll as one of Malkin's subordinates is more distraction than revelation. 


Also, the moral conflicts presented by Eichmann as an attempt to throw Malkin off his game feel thin and half-baked, and are almost immediately disregarded by the viewer because (thanks to seven decades of hindsight) we know him to be a cruel, deceitful manipulator. Nevertheless, it's a largely gripping race to the finish with a sublimely righteous coda.


Far less successful (and efficiently constructed in all the wrong ways) is Paul Greengrass' 22 July, which details the events and aftermath of far-right Anders Breivik's attack on a government building and a Workers' Youth League summer camp in 2011.


Greengrass begins with a well-detailed re-enactment of the atrocities, then following both Breivik's internment and one of his victims, Viljar Hanssen (Jonas Strand Gravli). And it's that latter half (largely centred on the all-too engaging Anders Danielsen Lie as Breivik) that presents a problem: this is one instance where the United 93 director's even-handed, tell-both-sides cadence is unsuccessful at best, and abject moral cowardice at worst. 


Its frame is cold, its focus is askew, and fails to make any real statement beyond 'this is what happened'. When it comes to showcasing such appalling acts of violence, taking a detached standpoint is precisely why monsters continue to rise in Breivik's stead, because cinema (and the media as whole) continue to give his ideologies as much air - if not more - than the voices of his victims. Simply presenting a competent, functional thriller-drama - as Greengrass does here - is not enough anymore.


Gareth Evans' Apostle, too, contains no deeper message, meaning, or political persuasion...and is all the better for it. In stark contrast to the timid Welshman's previous efforts - high-octane martial arts duo The Raid and The Raid 2 - this slow-burn chiller takes its cue from classical British horrors like The Wicker Man and Witchfinder General. Dan Stevens (who, for this writer's money, doesn't appear in enough movies) stars as a tortured traveller, bound for a remote island in search of his kidnapped sister. 


The tiny isle is the home of a religious cult under the sway of Michael Sheen's rabid preacher, Malcolm. Stevens' character, by virtue of existing in the early 1900s, has never seen a film before and hence doesn't run a mile when confronted with the aforementioned premise and it's connotations. Thus, he's caught off-guard when the eerie power of the island and Malcolm's religious fervour take a darker turn.

What happens next is best left unspoiled, but rest assured that fans of The Raid films (who might find themselves on uncertain turf here) will be more than sated by the final act. Their salvation is signalled by the moment when someone has their leg broken from under them while another takes a spear through the face: "There he is! There's our Gareth!"


Operation Finale, 22 July and Apostle are now available to stream on Netflix in the UK.

Friday, 16 March 2018

'Annihilation' - Review

3/16/2018 09:04:00 pm 1
'Annihilation' - Review

★ ★ ★ ½ ☆


Alex Garland’s sophomore film as writer-director, based on the book by Jeff VanderMeer, is a sci-fi oddity packed with questions and imagery which overwhelm and outshine its strong cast. Natalie Portman is Lena, a biologist sent to investigate a strange occurrence known as the Shimmer when her husband Kane (Oscar Isaac) returns after going missing on his own expedition, wracked with strange symptoms. Lena is joined by four other scientists (Jennifer Jason Leigh, Tessa Thompson, Gina Rodriguez and Tuva Novotny) to venture past the Shimmer’s dripping rainbow barrier and into the unknown.

To have a major science fiction film headed up by five women is a wonderful prospect, but in the end their characters are secondary to the visuals and ideas. Portman, Thompson, Isaac and Jason Leigh have the most fleshed-out roles of the bunch, but the nature of their occupations and the unravelling plot means they have little room to display more than quiet disconnect and pure fear. Anyone who’s accused Christopher Nolan of being clinical will soon be admiring his more sentimental qualities after spending two hours in the company of biologists, psychologists and hazmat-suited observers armed with clipboards.

Now for the sadly unavoidable digression, given that yours truly is reviewing this film from the UK: Annihilation doesn’t belong on the straight-to-streaming pile. Its grandiose imagery and even larger ideas belong in a cinema, where an audience is paying directly (thereby showing more tangible support for cerebral sci-fi than a lone viewing statistic), breathing in the visuals from a pristine projection source and, most importantly, not tabbing out every five minutes to check Facebook. Whatever the objective flaws and merits of Netflix’ current sci-fi releases like AnnihilationThe Cloverfield Paradox and Mute (the less said about Bright, the better), they’re shot with the big screen in mind. I can’t for one minute imagine Alex Garland or Duncan Jones conversing on-set with their director of photography about how best to shoot a sequence for optimal impact on a cropped desktop window. 
The best I could do to replicate a theatrical experience for Annihilation was a 23-inch monitor, turning all the lights off, putting on a decent pair of headphones with the volume up and praying my internet connection held long enough to retain maximum resolution. The latter proved the most unreliable element, meaning Rob Hardy’s eerie cinematography resembled something closer to Annihilation: The ZX Spectrum Experience. Drops in bitrate still failed to break the spell of a frightening, spine-chilling score from genius composers Geoff Barrow and Ben Salisbury, returning from Ex Machina.

A few other elements from Garland’s previous directorial outing cling to the surface of Annihilation as it leaps from straight science fiction to bizarre, exploratory philosophy: there’s a lot of photography through glass (cell windows, the warped reflections of a glass of water), large gaps of ambiguous silence between dialogue and a frugal use of CGI. What digital imagery there is flits from astonishing to awkward. Where the VFX budget has been spent really shows, and the more questionable effects weirdly make the film feel more suited to its home platform doom.

As with Ex Machina’s tests, this film is fragmented into stages, each infused with a recurring close-up of dividing cells, an image echoed in the scientists’ continuing discoveries. Much as one cell becomes another, brief physical evidence (plants that have formed themselves into the shape of human bodies, skeletons arranged in the sand) spawns more mental imagery that is harder to shake, itself upstaged by succeeding sequences that teeter on the edge between dream and nightmare. A vignette in an abandoned swimming pool refused to leave the inside of my eyelids for several days.

Garland keeps this adherence to ‘less is more’ to a fault. So much of the screenplay revels in withholding information from the audience, and it’s difficult to decipher whether he’s leaving these questions unanswered or merely open to interpretations. This means Annihilation could be read as any number of things: for yours truly, it’s a fable about leaving the unknown alone, but you can also see commentaries on gender, mankind’s destruction of the environment, and what it means to be human. It’s a film of big ideas, and that’s something no amount of relegation to small screens can diminish.