Cherry review: An epic and sobering tale

Jack Denison on 10 April 2021

Cherry is an epic and sobering tale of a misfit-turned-war veteran-turned outlaw, who is demonised by his PTSD and free falls through the horrors of opioid addiction and performs heists to fuel his dependency. Tom Holland plays our protagonist, whilst Ciara Bravo is our supporting actor who gets entangled in her husband’s crisis.

Directors, Anthony and Joe Russo (Avengers: Endgame, Infinity War) quickly suck audiences into the character’s world. For the most part, it has our attention in a jaw lock (a third act that wallows a bit too much, overstaying its welcome) as we witness the whirlwind of tragedy contaminating the lives of our characters. It’s a rollercoaster of an experience and wildly entertaining. Holland delivers a powerful performance, graduating from the superhero, tight-suit genre promisingly. With Bravo’s performance thrown into the equation, we quickly latch onto the characters’ decaying romance and are thoroughly invested.

At its nucleus, Cherry targets some solemn, ambitious themes and voices some political comments, illustrating their dramatic ramifications. We are pushed through the film’s skeleton with our misguided protagonist through the betrayal of the military, the ensuing silenced horrors of PTSD and washed up effects of dehumanisation and disassociation; being victimised by the wrath of the opiate crisis, turning to criminal activities and generally falling through the cracks, the execution of its subject material is hard-hitting and unflinching, especially in its depiction of the military’s unsavoury ego.

Image Credit: Hideaway Entertainment

From a directorial perspective, the Russo Brothers effectively put us behind the eyes of our protagonist. The portrayal of his alienation from the world, whether it may be silhouetted bankers rejecting him with disembodied voices or all of his uncanny-looking colleagues at work coming from the same bloodline, is captured creatively and as audiences, we are won over. Similarly, in the first act, the hyper-colourised sequences represent a poignant comment on the vision of nostalgia, mummified with an aesthetic that’s doused in gloss. The slightly slow-mo movements, the muffling of background clatter, the blurring of the peripherals and dream-like score rings louder and glistens further for those through the looking glass of a crippling addiction.

However, throughout Cherry, we are hit with ambivalence over how the story’s substance is decorated in such an artificial aesthetic. With the Russo Brothers’ victory in wrapping up the Avengers franchise with a bang, its confetti has drifted over into their next project here, resembling some heavy political issue arrows being fired from hipsters. Simply put, the project is over-directed and over-polished, resulting in a vain film that loves itself just a bit too much. Consequently, the film’s loyalty to its subject matter and the authenticity that it delivers comes into question. By choosing to topple in favour of its envisioned aesthetic, in its battle scenes, for example, it falls on its own sword. The perfectly stable boom that sways through the battlefield in a single take illuminating different perfectly choreographed frenzies makes us feel like we’re watching a multimillion-dollar, highly stressful Hollywood film set, rather than immersed and lost in the chaos of the battlefield. Similarly, it feels like at times it overcooks its drama, resulting in some overly theatrical sequences that are impaled by redundancy and some tough drug depiction that assassinates expected discretion, ultimately endangering itself as a gimmick.

By puffing out its chest over its aesthetic, it fails to delegate merit and intelligence towards the unfolding of its narrative, leaving us knowing what’s around every corner with predictable plot points. In its defence, its success in executing its biblically sized story (that we are constantly reminded about with disruptive frames bookmarking which act we are entering) is well ironed out in its sequencing that moves with a brazen pace. However, this is done at the expense of an overly comfortable voice-over narration that carries the delivery of the narrative on its back for the entire journey.

Image Credit: Empire

‘News of the World’ review: Woody gets a live-action treatment

Jack Denison on 23 February 2021

News of the World tells the story of Captain Kidd (Tom Hanks) in middle America, post-civil war, who plods between small towns delivering the news and stories of the country. His equilibrium is thrown off balance when he meets Johanna  (Helena Zengel), a young girl who had been captured by the Kiowa tribe. The film follows his endeavours to take her back to her family.  

Director, Paul Greengrass, who previously collaborated with Hanks on Captain Phillips, dominates with an impressive set and costume design, making audiences feel like they’re witnessing an American Gothic painting brought to life and stretched over two hours. By night, we are presented with some fantastic stills of midnight ghost towns, moon-lit shudders, amber windows and oil lamps, sparking a dark and brooding atmosphere. By day, we are immersed into the verisimilitude of a comical Wild Wild West town; the perpetually muddy main strips, bustling saloons, neighing stables, bells chiming, people whistling, the clatter of villagers starting their day – a buzzing hive smothered by the epic American landscape.  

Dariusz Wolski’s cinematography and his use of wide-angle frames is accentuated by some gorgeous images of the twilight hours and its rising purple tones casting shadows over the hills, creating a beautifully placid fragrance in the air.  

Hanks and Zengel wear their roles well, particularly Hanks, who is renowned for his  humbleness and good nature, makes for a perfect fit as a paternal character. The film’s first old-school, fun cowboy shootout with some rugged bandits and a creatively horrific  alternative to gunpowder pushes our familiarity with Mr Beloved Worldwide as a heroic  gunslinger but does not disappoint.

Credit: Universal Pictures

Greengrass plays it very safe in News of the World, which makes it hard to flesh out any  valid flaws. However, some complacencies present themselves, such as within its  dialogue. When a shady, menacing crew try to take Johanna off Captain Kidd’s hands for  a price, which results in an altercation, one of the members threatens him saying “I’ll be  seeing you Captain…I’m coming for you as soon as I’m done with these blues”. Not only  is this on-the-nose, but it also frustratingly spoils the possible element of surprise later on  in the narrative with his return, as we already know from this confrontation that he  presents himself as a potential antagonistic conflict, resulting in what is some pretty  complacent writing.  

Captain Kidd’s quest in bringing the news of the country to these isolated, bubbled village  communities resembles a lighthouse beacon illuminating the scary unknown abyss of the  expansive lands of America for its disconnected sleepy towns in an age of tremendous  darkness before a world of technology, science (labelling the misunderstood as ‘cursed’),  mass-communication (other than ‘word is’) and humanitarian justice. This metaphorical  plague is manifested in and personified by our two protagonists, who are both isolated  and wrestling with an existential ambiguity over where they belong and where they ought  to go.  

News of the World doesn’t conquer any new grounds or put itself up to any real risk but instead communicates a very necessary sentiment. The timeless power of stories is what triumphs here. His stories are the only light that echoes through a country muffled by darkness, a country riddled by desperate turbulence, confusion and anger, in need of severe enlightenment and escapism, whilst on the brink of a new era. For these reasons,  News of the World couldn’t have come out at a better time. 

Header image credit: The New York Times

‘The Midnight Sky’ review: George Clooney fails to save humanity from lockdown boredom

Jack Denison on 21 January 2021

Netflix’s latest big-budget project, The Midnight Sky, is a sci-fi drama directed by and starring George Clooney. The film focuses on Augustine (Clooney), a modern-day mad scientist isolated with a young, mute girl at a research facility in the Artic, who must warn the crew of a spaceship about a recent global catastrophe.

The apocalypse that acts as the hotplate under the character’s motivations, is executed with delicacy. Instead of an all guns blazing, disaster cinematic spectacle, where the skies might as well be falling on the audience too, as seen in 2012 and The Day After Tomorrow, it’s charged by a subtle, lurking, eerie menace. It’s holstered in the unknown, its wrath left to the imagination of the audience, like a silent blanket slowly being drawn over the world. This allows Clooney to hit some chords pretty well, asking; if the world were to stop spinning and fall silent, entombed by darkness, how far would you go to make contact with your family?

The film flexes some stunning cinematography infused with strong post-production colour work, creating some vibrant stills of the world’s last twilight from the Artic, making us feel like we’re watching a planetarium show. Clooney’s acting reflects the deafening stillness of his environment skilfully and his narrative’s midpoint will certainly leave you with clammy hands.

Credit: Variety

However, this is the furthest the film goes in earning merit and is fully eclipsed by its strong flaws, particularly in its script. With dystopian space films being rife in today’s cinema catalogue, the ‘isolated astronaut/scientist’ trope has also been tackled several times and Midnight Sky falls last in the race by a long way. 

Typically, films, especially one of this calibre, need a threat or a force that not only drives the characters through their narrative but also keeps the audience engaged. This nexus to any project that wants a shot at being successful is ignored for ninety-five percent of the film. The finale’s twist, albeit rather bittersweet and tragically endearing, finally sprinkling motivation and meaning on the characters and the film, does not excuse the two hours of boredom and confusion. The film up to this point never finds its feet, never telling us what journey it’s going to take us on, what it’s about and sadly, why we should keep watching. The film in a way explores two narratives, an insight into Augustine’s lonely existence and also the tension and diplomacy of the crew of astronauts. By structuring the script like this, it exasperates the restless need to find out what the point of the film is. Consequently, we have two separate midpoints that don’t have any real significance, especially not one concerning the development of the overall, overarching narrative.

Screenwriter, Mark Smith (The Revenant), tries to capitalise on Augustine’s dynamic with the enigmatic young girl, Iris (Caoilinn Springall) in order to fabricate the film’s force and drive. Cross-generational pairs can perform very well in films, often pursuing the route of an entertaining dichotomy that symbiotically helps construct each other’s character and narrative arch. Here, their relationship doesn’t even come close to this very basic canon, but instead goes the other way and is quite frustrating and tedious, considering how Iris might as well have just as much screen time as Clooney, but doesn’t say a single word. Rather, this notion would’ve computed better if it had taken a step back as a sub-plot device, or if Iris’ character was embraced more.

The Midnight Sky’s disappointing reception was not helped by the drought of new content audiences are receiving, or with the entire country being in lockdown fighting our very own global crisis for that matter. Sadly, circumstantial or not, Clooney’s big white, bushy beard brought more Christmas entertainment to the season than the film itself.

Header image credit: NBC News

Mank Review: David Fincher’s Love Letter to Old Hollywood

Jack Denison on 6 January 2021

Mank marks the collaboration between heavy-weight Director David Fincher (Fight Club, Seven, The Social Network) and Netflix. It throws us into the action of Hollywood in the 1930’s from the perspective of the raging alcoholic screenwriter, Herman J. Mankiewicz, as he writes Citizen Kane, one of the highest acclaimed films of all time. The film is rife with social commentary on the industry at the time, communicating the world’s political ambiguity with World War Two lurking just around the corner.

Fincher goes slightly off-piste in Mank, a black and white love-letter to 1930s Hollywood, much like La La Land was to 1950s Musicals. His romanticisation of the era roars. The punching of the type-writer for scene headings, strong orchestral scores, fuzzy gramophone-like dialogue quality, characters’ faces split up with light strips from drawn blinds and idling cigarettes delicately left balancing on the rim of an ashtray and still smoking. His brilliant direction brings these text-book pictures to life. We’re teleported back into the bustling streets of Hollywood with classic cars, retro poster ads, bellboys with funny hats, three piece suits and tie clips and filterless cigarettes. We are also given an insight into turmoil left behind by the Great Depression, the anticipation of the Golden Era and speculation about what this ‘Hitler’ guy is up to in Germany. Even though Mank is set some ninety years ago, the parallels in-between its financial crisis to ours today were too big to go unnoticed. 

The casting pays off, with the great Gary Oldman taking the reigns as the screenwriting protagonist and Amanda Seyfried filling the shoes of a femme fatale-like actress. Despite this, the script hampers his potential and doesn’t give him the space of delivering a game-changer we know he’s capable of. How much wiggle room can an actor have to impress if he’s cemented in a bed for half the film? With this being said, there is credit to be rewarded in the casting department, particularly for not giving in to pressures for mega marketable names unlike the Coen Brother’s Hail Caesar!, starring George Clooney, Scarlett Johnson and Jonah Hill. Going down this path would’ve tainted the artistic integrity and tone which Fincher boasts.

Not long into Mank, once the novelty of its beautiful lighting and striking costumes begins to settle, its serious flaws begin to materialise. Alarm bells start to ring early on, booming ‘style over substance’ and this is incredibly hard to shake off. The film’s runtime of nearly 2 1/2 hours proves to make it a downright tedious experience, boldly toying with audience’s patience levels. Equally, the film is peppered with meaning and conflict that just doesn’t appeal to the common man. The daily endeavours of Herman J. Mankiewicz and his navigation to making one of the best pieces of cinema is actually, quite a dull piece of cinema. Mank prioritises its indulgent commitment to the vintage aesthetic and consequently, neglects the most primitive service of cinema; to entertain.

This trap also has a knock on effect with the flow of the narrative, through the excessive usage of the slow, fade-to-black. Although this editing technique is also a motif from the Noir-era, it’s exhausted and as a result makes the entire film feel very segmented, like a collection of isolated scenes that don’t carry over smoothly on to the next. Middle man, John Houseman (played by Sam Troughton), pays a visit to Herman Mankiewicz, criticising his patient development on Citizen Kane, saying he’s “hardly out of the first act”. What’s amusing with this line is how the concept of plot structure is non-existent in the overarching film, resulting in a narrative that waffles through its generous run-time. Although validation can be given to the importance of flashbacks, it isn’t executed very well or clearly, resulting in a slightly messy narrative.

Mank offers something new in an age of humdrum films built on generic conventions and passive audiences. It packs a theoretically interesting premise, that delivers for a two-minute trailer, but over 135 minutes, it’s empty and falls flat on its face. Fincher won our trust in making biopics with an exciting, slick and intense execution in The Social Network. You’d be forgiven to assume that he copied and pasted his algorithmic approach here with Mank, but alas, as we all know, lightning doesn’t strike twice. Fincher has lost his charm in this project, but what has stayed is his slick dialogue, clever subtext and ‘cigarette burns’ (queue, Tyler Durden monologue). But ask yourself this – if a house can’t be built on sand, can a film stand on aesthetics and dialogue?

Header image credit: The Times

Review: Dash and Lily

Anushka Searle on 4 December 2020

Dash & Lily is an American Christmas-based rom-com Netflix show based in New York City. The show is based on the young adult book series by Rachel Cohen and David Levithan, with the first book being Dash & Lily’s Book of Dares. Unsurprisingly, the story surrounds the protagonists Dash (Austin Abrams) and Lily (Midori Francis). Lily, encouraged by her brother, creates a book of dares that she hides in a bookshop next to her favourite book, in the hope that it will be discovered by her perfect match. Of course, Dash discovers the book and so the show follows the protagonists as they travel around New York while trading dares, dreams and desires.

If you are a fan of a good cheesy Christmas movie, then you will absolutely love these 8 episodes of pure Christmas fun. Dash & Lily gives you those soppy feel-good feelings that make your heart heavy – think a combination of The Holiday, Love Actually and A Christmas Prince. Whether it’s a crush, a partner, or a long-lost love, this series will immediately make you dream of that special someone. This series brings forth those warm, fuzzy feelings of love, and isn’t that what we all want to feel this year… love.

Of course, like most cheesy Christmas films, or rom-coms in general, some things are a tad far-fetched and unrealistic. It is unlikely that 17-year olds (where the drinking age is 21) would be able to get in a club hassle-free and with no ID checks. It also seems very far-fetched that these teenagers, Lily in particular, would have so many connections in New York to help them plan all their great dares. However, if the story were to follow a more realistic route than we would have a very boring story, where the notebook would never have been found and our protagonists would barely leave the house, spending most of their days sleeping until 2pm. So, bring on the unrealistic relationships for us all to idealise this Christmas!

Even if you don’t usually enjoy Christmas, this show will still be enjoyable, as it is not all Christmas joy and tackles the seasonal blues too and Dash himself doesn’t even like Christmas! Let’s be honest, after such a rough year I think some cheesy comfort watches are in order, we all need a little escapism. So, make yourself a deluxe hot chocolate, pop on Dash & Lily, and enjoy this love letter to New York.

Oh, and if that wasn’t enough the Jonas Brothers also make a cameo appearance!

Da 5 Bloods Review: Spike Lee does not quite strike gold

Owen Frost on 22 July 2020

The latest Spike Lee “Joint” arrived on Netflix on June 12th, off the back of Lee’s 2018 critical success with BlacKkKlansman. Da 5 Bloods is Lee’s return to satirical form with focus on African American GI experience in the reprehensible Vietnam War. Da 5 Bloods unflinchingly portrays the African American experience, challenging the traditional representation of the Black ‘buddy’ characters in war films – showcasing a diverse range of antagonistic African American characters. It stars Delroy Lindo, Clarke Peters, Isiah Whitlock Jr. and Norm Lewis as the four African American veterans on a pilgrimage to search for fellow GI Stormin’ Norman’s (Chadwick Boseman) remains along with their ulterior motive: searching for the gold he helped them bury. Most of the action sequences take place in the traditionally inhospitably depicted jungle and despite a promising start, Da 5 Bloods contains some questionable Vietnamese portrayals.

History is a powerful tool to provoke modern day action. This has never been truer than recently, with Edward Colston’s statue in Bristol and many other contentious commemorations being symbolically torn down across the globe. Significantly, Lee repeats his auteur technique of peppering Da 5 Bloods with historic documentary footage and does not falter in educating audiences on famous historic Black Americans including Milton L. Olive III – the first African American to receive the Medal of Honour for his sacrifice in Vietnam. As the aspect ratio alterations cleverly shift from the twentieth century to the modern era, the beginning of Da 5 Bloods morphs from the volatile sixties to the equally troublesome contemporary climate. 

The Hanoi Hannah (Ngo Thanh Van) character also advances Lee’s cultural critique of American history’s disregard of the African American GI experience. Her northern Vietnamese propaganda targets the Black American GIs, speaking to their exploitation during the war. Lee also digs at Hollywood’s whitewashing of the Vietnam experience in films such as propagandic The Green Berets, while also dedicating homage to select Vietnam war films such as Francis Ford Coppola’s Apocalypse Now and Oliver Stone’s Platoon. The Marvin Gaye soundtrack along with the ironically heroic orchestral score makes audiences question the role whitewashed war movies have on the movie-going public.

Da 5 Bloods bubbles up violently in places with the four antiheroes either being shot at, blown up or chased in equal measure. It also features Lee’s iconic trope of the impassioned fourth wall breaking monologue, rampant with racially charged rhetoric about injustice symbolically relevant in the modern context. Paul’s speech parallels Mookie’s monologue in Lee’s seminal Do The Right Thing. 

Chadwick Boseman in Da 5 Bloods, (Image Credit: Insider)

The flashbacks to the war through Newton Thomas Sigel’s 16mm lens are enticing, despite Lee’s inability to de-age his main stars next to the youthful Chadwick Boseman. This was a feat that Scorsese’s enormous Netflix debut The Irishman, with its whopping $160 million budget, capitalised on. 

However, despite these praiseworthy moments of Lee excitement, the Vietnamese characterisation is underwhelming in this venture. Otis’ Vietnamese ex-lover that fathered his daughter is underexplored and the Vietcong soldiers are often simplistically portrayed as cannon fodder to be peppered by bullets. 

I found myself longing for a film that belonged more tonally to the first half than the second half’s caper which felt more like a version of The Treasure of the Sierra Madre. After the initially promising start which represented America’s entrenched geopolitical misconduct in Vietnam, this all felt disappointing.  

While Lee touches well upon the racist experience that the disproportionate number of African American GIs in Vietnam experienced, and his use of historical documentary and iconic tropes resonate with today’s “Black Lives Matter” debate, the film’s two separate parts felt disjointed. This paired with the questionable depiction of the Vietnamese population detracts from the film’s appeal. 

Da 5 Bloods is available to stream on Netflix now.

Rating: 3/5 

Image Credit: David Lee, Netflix