MOONRISE KINGDOM

Wes Anderson was, for me, a film-maker like Tim Burton.  A man with a distinct and beautiful visual style but whose tendency to rework the same themes, with the same actors, playing essentially the same characters, had begun to pall.  I particularly hated his last live action film, THE DARJEELING LIMITED, for its self-absorption, narcissism, rather exploitative attitude toward its Indian context, and ultimately for just being dull. With this in mind, I went into  MOONRISE KINGDOM with barely any hope that I would find the kind of film - at once whimsical and yet also profound (echoes of Tarsem Singh's THE FALL!) - that I had fallen in love with while watching THE ROYAL TENENBAUMS.

Well, my fears were groundless. MOONRISE KINGDOM is a simply wonderful film.  It is, of course, beautifully designed, rich in background detail, empathetically scored, and well-acted.  It affects a sweet yet knowing innocence - it's full of characters struggling to deal honestly with themselves and their loved ones - it deals with the darkest of emotions but it drips with hope - in friendship, in people doing the right thing - in family.  It's as if everything that began to feel so clichéd about Wes Anderson has finally been re-united with sincere emotion - and that this emotional authenticity has cut through the stagey-ness of the costumes, locations, soundtrack - and transformed a whimsical confection into something altogether more lasting, provocative and memorable.  It's as if Wes Anderson finally gave in and just told the story he always wanted to tell - about first love.

Suzy B (Kara Hayward) falls in love with an eagle-scout called Sam (Jared Gilman) one golden summer in 1965. The carefully hatched plan to leave together triggers a sequence of scrapes, jams, shenanigans, emotional revelations and deeds good and ill.  

Anderson perfectly captures that intensity of feeling when you're a kid and you feel nobody understands you apart from this one perfect person. Suzy's trying to escape her family - her kid brothers, her distant father (Bill Murray) and the mother (Frances McDormand) she suspects of sleeping with local policeman (Bruce Willis). Sam's an orphan and a misfit with a good heart. In one of the most affecting scenes, written in exact mimicry of how we speak at that age, Sam tells Suzy he loves her but she's talking nonsense for hating her parents. Suzy and Sam run away together.  They're at the age and living in the time when you're hold world fits into a suitcase, and you take your're favourite adventure stories rather than clothes. When you can place you're entire life into the hands of another person without second-guessing yourself.  

There's a deep vein of melancholy running through the film. Most of the adults seem desperately lonely, none moreso than Ed Norton's majestically decent scout leader.  The exception is the almost mechanical Social Services, played by Tilda Swinton with steely efficiency. But the kids are in their own world, where all things are possible, and where adults barely skim the surface, except as occasional constraints and only too rarely as facilitators. There's excitement and wonder and threat and crushing disappointment. As the movie builds to a pivotal final scene (superbly scored to Britten's Noye's Fludde) I realised that I deeply cared about these kids.  I wanted desperately to know what they happened to them, and not just to download the soundtrack they were listening to. It's been a long time, but we finally have a Wes Anderson movie that makes us feel as well as admire its surfaces.  

MOONRISE KINGDOM opened Cannes 2012. It is on release in France, Germany, Ireland, Turkey, the UK and he USA. It opens next weekend in Belgium, Iceland, Hungary and the Netherlands. It opens on June 6th in Sweden, on June 8th in Norway, on June 15th in Greece and Spain, on June 21st in Russia, on June 2nd in Portugal and Lithuania, on August 16th in Slovenia and Argentina and on August 30th in New Zealand.

London Film Fest 2011 Day 7 - WE NEED TO TALK ABOUT KEVIN

Lionel Schriver's hugely successful novel "We Need To Talk About Kevin" is a powerful, intelligent and provocative novel about the mother of a boy who commits a high school massacre.  The framing tool of the novel is that the mother, Eva, is writing letters to her husband, Franklyn, trying to explain what her life has become, and how she rationalises their part in raising a son who would commit such acts. From the earliest years we see the conflict between good-natured but naive Franklyn who wants two kids and a house in the suburbs, and Eva, the bohemian travel writer and City girl who has a deep antipathy to giving that up to raise children.  And so we assume Franklyn and Eva are divorced.  Eva describes the lack of bond she felt for Kevin as a child, his tantrums, her frustration, and Franklyn's disbelief that Kevin was actually playing psychological games with them. And then, when they have another child, sweet little Celia - so crucial because it shows that Eva can be a loving mother - they have their most powerful disagreement on Kevin's role in an "accident" with some bleach.  The tension builds - we know the letters will take us through Kevin's adolescence to his gruesome act of murder, and we like Eva, want an explanation.  But Schriver is far too subtle and realistic to give us easy answers.  It's a stunningly well-written novel, and I can also highly recommend the unabridged audiobook read by Lorelei King - whose voice I thought was the definitive Eva.

In approaching the material, writer-director Lynne Ramsay (MORVEN CALLAR) and writer (and actor) Rory Kinnear have taken a free approach - after all, one cannot easily translate an epistolary novel to screen, and the audience is likely familiar with the "big reveals" at the end of the novel by now. They keep the idea of the framing device - Eva in post-massacre life, bearing the insults and shame - and the chronological telling of Kevin's childhood.  However, they begin with an almost impressionistic set of scenes giving us the atmosphere of the present and the past, hints at the suburban life that has been destroyed, and before that, of Eva's life of travel - all with a nightmare vividness. The screenplay is really a masterclass in how to translate a popular novel to screen, keeping all the thematic material in tact, but without being slavish.

The performances are likewise superlative.  Tilda Swinton really is as good as everyone says as Eva - depicting both the ambitious businesswoman and the broken, guilt-ridden mother.  John C Reilly, who I couldn't really see as Franklyn before I watched the film, perfectly captures his naivete and frustrating blindness.  But it's the two Kevin's who really stand out - Rock Duer as the young boy, and Ezra Miller as the teenager. The ability to go from pure evil, mocking stare to charming smile as the audience switches from Eva to Franklyn - truly superb and sadistic. 

On the technical side, DP Seamus McGarvey (ATONEMENT) does outstanding work, and  Jonny Greenwood's score is wonderful. (THERE WILL BE BLOOD).  But I had one massive problem with the direction, and that's the ham-fisted crude use of "blood" imagery - from Eva covered in crushed tomatoes; to over-filled jam sandwiches; to red paint thrown on a house; to Eva washing her hand's of aforementioned paint......Yes, we get it, there will be blood, and the blood, as for Lady Macbeth, will be hard to wash off, metaphorically speaking.  But please, enough already. Where is the subtlety of Schriver in this blood-fetishism?

<< Ezra Miller (Kevin); Lynne Ramsay (Director) and Lionel Schriver (Author) at the UK premiere of WE NEED TO TALK ABOUT KEVIN at the BFI London Film Festival 2011.


WE NEED TO TALK ABOUT KEVIN played Cannes, Toronto and London 2011. It opened in France earlier this month and opens in Ireland and the UK on October 21st. It opens in Greece and Hungary on November 3rd; in Australia on November 17th; in NYC and LA on December 9th and then on wide release in the USA on January 27th. It opens in Sweden on February 17th.

London Film Fest Day 7 - THE LIMITS OF CONTROL

I must confess that I found THE LIMITS OF CONTROL such hard work that I simply walked out after an hour of lessening patience and sheer disgust with how ludicrous the whole thing was. What a pretentious pile of wank this movie is.

Isaach de Bankoele is some kind of shady character. He sits in various cafes and for no particular reason orders two espressos in different cups. He exchanges matchboxes with various other shady characters and engages in the same stilted stupid conversations. There's even a random, seriously off-her-trolley naked chick. What is all this for? What is it meant to be? Or is it just a case of the Emperor's New Clothes.

Are we meant to be laughing with Jarmusch or at Jarmusch? I left because I felt he was laughing, sneering, at us.

THE LIMITS OF CONTROL was released earlier this year in the US, Canada, Germany, Austria, Switzerland, the Czech Republic, Australia, Romania, Finland, Hong Kong, Sweden, Japan, New Zealand, Brazil and Spain. It is currently on release in Russia. It opens on November 26th in Argentina; December 2nd in France, the Netherlands and Mexico; on December 11th in the UK and on February 2rd in Belgium.