Reviews

This film is not for people who prefer generic characters, straightforward plot lines and tidy conclusions. However, there's an intelligent concept at the root of it all and skilled execution for those who like to be kept on their toes with lot's of twists, and creative camera angles and scene transitions. Like some of the characters, the viewer is deliberately kept off balance at the beginning but for good narrative reason. Mixed but mostly excellent performances from the cast. Let's be honest, this film has been made on a low budget: some scenes could have done with another take, the "futuristic" devices are decidedly unfuturistic, and the pacing in the middle gets a little frustrating with too many revelatory scenes all at once towards the end etc. But the ending satisfies and leaves room for the viewer to ponder long after the final credits have run.

You have got to be kidding! This is a film? Is there a plot, script, character development or anything resembling a movie? Perhaps a group of pretentious middle class actors tried to get creative during a pandemic. It looks more like someone left a video camera running and forgot to turn it off. I can usually see a glint of diamond amongst the rough... but this was just ROUGH!

Here's a long moment of young adult Australasian angst and insecurity overlay-ed with a generic north-Americanesque teenage-style-of-humor, and laced with a few poignant wee bff moments. Unfortunately, it is billed as a comedy: none of the characters (nor their lines) is remotely funny although the tall, built, handsome "Ants" character makes a good go of it as well as providing male eye candy in underwear... again... and again. Perhaps the script needed a plot and clever dialogue - just a suggestion. A weekend at a picturesque rural setting out of range of wifi service provides an unlikely but seemingly necessary premise for the millennials to verbally interact about verbal interaction. I somehow ended up feeling I had just been in the most stunning situation I could ever imagine... and nothing happened. Good effort from the young cast.

"The Wild Boys" (Les Garcons Sauvages) is an entirely original film and plays out like an expansive moody metaphor with superb acting, tight and well-crafted script, an original mix of production techniques, excellent photography and sound, and sensitive insightful direction. It will especially appeal to those with an interest in homoerotica and/or class-gender sociology. To say any more would be to spoil it.

This is a movie that has stayed with me long after the viewing. Fortunately for me, I knew nothing of the 'twist' towards the end and was able to put together the pieces myself.

Hotel Artemis is a tightly-scripted modest little sci fi action thrlller with subtle black humour, a touch of social commentary and a heart. Every bit of excess fat has been trimmed from this one-and-a-half-hour perfectly-paced baby, which plays out in almost real time - a few hours one evening while a city riot rages outside. All the performances are spot on (Jodie Foster and Dave Bautista deserve special mention), although, personally, I feel the cameo Goldblum character was a little miscast; couldn't we have had a scarier unknown actor playing the part? You could think of this movie as a futuristic morality play - everyone gets what they deserve. In that sense, there aren't a lot of surprises; a good twist with a last minute reveal would have pushed up my score for this film. Having said that, it's a thoroughly enjoyable ride, especially if you're one who can appreciate the combination of a bit of action, a touch of pathos and a more cynical brand of humour than what is normally on offer.

Rupert Everett is Oscar Wilde, and Oscar Wilde is Rupert Everett. This labour of love was worth its labour. At last, dare I speak it, men who love men - and others with an open mind - can see a realistic depiction of Oscar Wilde's post-incarceration period without the previously obligatory sentimental apologies to society. His end wasn't just tragic but both tragic and joyous, set in non-Anglo locations where for the most part he was able to escape the psychopathic self-loathing homophobic Anglo condition (that still exists in various forms to this day). That condition is briefly and brutally depicted in one of the few scenes set in Britain. The fresher, less cynically abusive and non-bullying Continental sensibility is rendered beautifully in such characters as the street urchins and other smaller roles, such as, Oscar's uniformed admirer, Maurice, who appears silently in a number of scenes. On this note, the private party scene in Naples is a howler. The expected Wilde witticisms are, as always, a delight, yet so too are the Wilde-esque additions. The acting is superb, locations and sets wonderfully evocative and score unnoticed (which is the highest compliment). While it is always a pleasure to see more of Emily Watson, her character, Constance, Oscar's estranged wife, did not need more screen time in this story, as some critics have suggested; although her decisions had serious repercussions, her role in Oscar's life during this period, was minimal. The script and pacing have also been criticised by other reviewers, and while this may be valid to some degree, it personally did not detract from my viewing experience. As every sensitive Anglo boy knows, you shouldn't read the story "The Happy Prince" when others are around lest they see your tears and persecute you for them. Thank you, Rupert. A very real portrayal for people who 'understand'.

While the evocation of the 1980s, obvious passion for the artist's work and magnificent acting from the ensemble cast should have made this movie a '10', it has one fatal flaw: this film, Basquiat, dealing with a young man's struggle for identity, fails to mention or even hint at the fact that he had both female and male sexual partners. While I highly respect the acting ability of Jeffrey Wright (just check out his performance in Westworld), he was not only misdirected but simply miscast. To understand the real Basquiat, see the 2010 documentary Jean-Michel Basquiat - The Radiant Child. There, you see a cute, good-looking, charismatic, ambitious although introverted young man whom you could easily imagine receiving offers from men and women alike - and equally imagine the offers being taken up. The portrayal in the film, Basquiat, is of a slightly autistic, inarticulate, heterosexual boor with a 'junkie walk' before he was even a junkie. It is well documented that the artist David Bowes was a male lover of Basquiat's, and other characters from the era, some still alive today, attest that while living on the street he would often exchange sexual favors with both males and females for a place to sleep for the night; not uncommon practice for the homeless. I mention all this not to disrespect the memory of Jean-Michel as I'm actually a great fan of his. Let's instead respect him by honoring him truthfully and mentioning the unmentionable: male-to-male sexuality.

Directors and scriptwriters be damned; you spoil otherwise good movies. Just when will film-makers get over their homophobic paranoia? Why make a movie about Howard Hughs and not mention he had bedded most Hollywood leading men of his day? Why make a movie about Alexander the Great misrepresenting his life-long male lover and companion, and not mentioning his Persian male lover? Why make a film about Archilles and pretend that his male lover, whose death caused his downfall, was his platonic cousin? Why make a movie about Cole Porter and not mention anything? The list goes on.