Reviews

Thrilling. Challenging. Bold. Beautiful.

Obscene. Exploitative. Hollow. Cheap.

These two series of adjectives represent the range of reactions Spring Breakers is likely to trigger. Indeed, it is full of explicit renditions of hardcore partying which should not be a surprise to anyone, given the title. But under the surface of the flashy overdose of drug abuse, nudity and violence is a chilling tale of four girls' descent into the void this environment creates.

Bored by their mundane life at home with the ever same school, same people and same activities, the four protagonists (Selena Gomez, Ashley Benson, Vanessa Hudgens and Rachel Korine) long for the excitement of Spring Break. As a first hint that they are absolutely determined to overcome all obstacles on their way there, they rob a diner to get the money (with water guns). Once in Florida and after a party marathon they end up in jail for when the police busts a whole crowd in a hotel room full of drugs. Out of nowhere the local gangster figure "Alien" (James Franco) bails them out. The question is whether he does this out of sympathy or if he has other motives in mind. The other question is if the girls will fully adapt to his lifestyle or if they will regret their decision to trust him.

The reason why Spring Breakers allows for such diverse reactions as depicted above is because it is a film that thrives on contrasts. The chaos of the uncontrolled party excesses are shot in a distinctive MTV video-clip aesthetic underlined with blaring dubstep beats which is constantly contrasted with calm, serene sequences of the girls fooling around by themselves, relaxing on the beach or just plain captures of the city at night that are accompanied by a string-based soundtrack and a poetic, repetitive voice-over narration by different characters. In this manner of juxtaposing raw action with peaceful shots of the surroundings where it takes place, it evokes associations with Thin Red Line and in a way the whole films seems like Terrence Malick directing something like 24 Hour Party People. Through those calm scenes the overkill of stimuli in the party scenes becomes painfully shallow and nihilistic and therefore serves as a powerful comment on the particular mindless hedonism that is Spring Break. Therefore, it is not handled in an exploitative manner. It is not a satire, but it does what the best satire does, which is present the object of criticism in a pure, untouched way to let it unmask its lunacy itself without any extra commentary. Often the same exact scenes of random people freaking out on the beach are repeated which gets really exhausting which is exactly the point. The danger of this approach to subtle commentary is of course that the criticism then bypasses the audience.

It should however become more than obvious when the group is divided between two girls who refuse to go down the road with "Alien" (and therefore go home) and two who are willing to follow him in all sorts of quests culminating in an armed assault on his main rival. In the last third of the film, the actual Spring Break seems very far behind, but what stands out is how it shaped the girls in different ways. The two that remain in Florida develop an obsessive relationship with Alien which is reminiscent of a Manson Family-like cult or a coked up deadly vipers version of Charlie's Angels. The red thread of extreme contrasts is kept up when scenes of brutal violence are shot with the most beautiful colour scheme. It is glowing with a neon buzz that creates a very dreamlike atmosphere that can be compared to the effect of the soft pastel colours of The Virgin Suicides. Indeed, it also shares some central themes with Sofia Coppola's classic, as in both films a group of young girls is driven to extreme behaviour by a rigid, norm-based social context. Incidentally, Tarantino named Spring Breakers his favourite film of 2013 and if he were to remake The Virgin Suicides the result could be quite similar to this.

A final music cue sums up the contradictory elements that Harmony Korine lets crash into one another. On top of the scenes of brutal murders during the final assault the brilliant composer Cliff Martinez ("Drive") picks up a motif from the initial Skrillex track we hear at the beginning of the film. This weird mixture of a string quartet playing a dubstep tune encapsulates the clashes this film is willing to embrace. In a way, both parties of movie goers reacting to this film are right. It is thrillingly unsettling and confusingly beautiful.

Mike Mills's second feature film is in a reverse sense the twin sister of Barry Jenkins's "Moonlight" (I let you decide which one is the evil one), as both films deal with a troubled relationship between a mother and a son. In "Moonlight" however, the mother is all too absent while in "20th Century Women" Annett Bening's Dorothea desperately tries to remain present in her son Jamie's (Lucas Jade Zumann) life. The main plot revolves around her idea to instruct his best friend Julie (Elle Fanning) who is only two years older and their roommate Abby (Greta Gerwig) to help her raise him.

Due to their respective age (55. 24 and 17), these three women are supposed to represent the past century, however all of them mainly represent the year 1979, the year the film is set in. In the course of two hours the screen is overflooded with audiovisual markers of this particular time period from commune-like gatherings in Dorothy's house to constant smoking, from a punk rock soundtrack to old-fashioned skateboards, from a postcard California-dreamy Santa Barbara to the emergence of feminist thinking, which is indeed very cleverly incorporated through original writings of leading thinkers. The way feminism and female sexuality is presented recalls Mad Men's style of retro commentary which makes society's views on women seem out-dated and overcome until you realise they unfortunately are not. All of this is loosely held together by the story described above that is constantly accompanied by an almost distracting nostalgia buzz which is clearly due to the director's emotional attachment to that era. Given that this is a highly autobiographical work, this is excusable. But it remains a problem nevertheless.

Still, on an audiovisual level the film is undoubtedly engaging, since the bright colours and the turbulent soundtrack create a very vivid atmosphere. Even the quite contained plot would not necessarily be a problem, if the script was a little sharper. There are definitely a variety of interesting lines about life, death, sex and friendship in there, but they never form a coherent bigger picture.

. If the nostalgia is the film's heart, then the performances are its pulse. The cast definitely fill the scenes with life in a compelling manner while you just wish that they could demonstrate their emotional repertoire a bit more. The three lead actresses all have quite clear-cut positions in the narrative, so that they don't get many chances to truly explore their characters. But in every second they are on screen, they prove once again just how completely in control of their craft they are. Annett Benning has been rightfully praised a lot. She delivers a brilliant portrayal of a free-spirited woman and a deeply caring mother who has to come to terms with the development of her teenage son. Her inner turmoil between staying true to her central values as freedom and self-determination versus still managing to keep track of what her son is up to as well as her bewilderment at cultural signs of the current times (that are a-changing) are played out with nuance and precision.

As for the women constituting the other two corners of the generational triangle, there is on the one hand Greta Gerwig who plays a Greta Gerwig-character like no one else could. Abby is surrounded by a severe tragedy though as she has survived cancer due to which she is probably not able to have kids. On the other hand, Elle Fanning proves once and for all that she is not only already an incredibly versatile actress, but that it would not be in the least surprising if she is one of the A-level stars to come. With her absolutely flawless run of films like "Trumbo", "The Neon Demon" and now her dazzling performance in "20th Century Women" as the slightly profligate but somehow still profoundly innocent and ultimately just lost teenager Julie, one is quick to draw a comparison to the young Kirsten Dunst in "The Virgin Suicides" who also managed to bring a conflicted aura of dangerous despair hidden under pure beauty to the screen. We can be very excited about what the two of them will create together in Sofia Coppola's next film "The Beguiled".

Where Mike Mills's script, as charming as it is, lacks some edge and focus, his directing is compelling and full of interesting ideas. Letting all the main characters share the voice-over narration is an effective move, the camera-work is steady and precise (in contrast for example to the sometimes overtly dramatic and shaky framing of "Moonlight") and shots that could be simple depictions of moving cars become thrilling rides due to a unique choice of "Stargate Sequence"-like beams of colour blurring on a screen making the film regularly look like an old VHS recording when perceived on an acid trip which is (intentionally or not) a very fitting effect within the 1970's context.

Despite its flaws, 20th Women is definitely worth seeing, since it ultimately makes up two enjoyable hours with great performances which however hint at the potential of a slightly deeper film this could have been if it had aspired to move a bit beyond the mere homage to a time period. Still, I give it seven stars, but I have to admit, Annett Bening, Greta Gerwig and Elle Fanning could probably be shown baking banana bread for three hours and I would be intrigued.

The overall solid, but ultimately mediocre "Kill Your Darlings" reveals its key problem at the very beginning. We see a dead body held by a character suggesting that some sort of murder will play a central role in the film. Hence, we will end up watching a crime drama. The problem is that the moment the story turns in that direction, the film loses its focus.

But first we are introduced to the very young Allen Ginsberg (Daniel Radcliffe) who enrols in college where he meets the very young Lucien Carr (Dane DeHaan), William Burroughs (Ben Foster) and eventually Jack Kerouac (Jack Huston). The first half of the film revolves around their frustrations with the conventions of poetry and literature they are taught at Columbia. The professors insist on strict rules one has to apply so that "creation equals imitation" . They are disgusted by the fetishisation of rhyme and metre. Inspired by poets as Yates and Whitman, they decide to write a manifesto propagating free expression of the self without any boundaries as writing's highest virtue, resulting in acts of disobedience like replacing several "high works" in the library for example the original version of Beowulf with works of personal role models like Melville. For that part of the film, "Kill Your Darlings" is a fairly engaging if all too standard period piece that checks every box with vivid jazz music, smoking in bars,emphasis on old-fashion dressing styles and technology as record players and scratchy radio sound while it is at the same time a depiction of a group of idealistic artists with the expected scenes of alcohol and drug abuse, hectic writing on a typewriter and the rebellion against authority figures like the professors. This is fine, even though one cannot help but feel that a depiction of these artists in their prime would maybe make the more interesting film. But if we perceive them as the literary Avengers, than this has to be considered their origin story.

As already mentioned, the turning point where the film really loses momentum is marked by the murder of David Kammerer (David C. Hall) a dubious mentor-like figure for Lucien Carr. Here the standard period piece with interesting central characters becomes an even more standard crime story/court drama, where the characters' appeal dissolves in the genre's basic themes of rage, revenge and guilt. From that point on, it does not really matter that we are dealing with literary geniuses. Sure, this story is part of their life. But if you decide to make a movie about Allan Ginsberg, William Burroughs and Jack Kerouac, do you really need to focus on a gloomy murder story that we have seen so many times before with the only difference being that these characters incidentally have changed the literary landscape of the second half of the twentieth century? For what it's worth, you could place those characters in a bar having them smoking, drinking and discussing art for two hours and you could end up with an engaging piece of film that truly explores the workings of these characters' minds. It definitely would be more ingenious than what we witness here.

Many have pointed out the film's central contradiction of depicting people that think in a very unconventional manner with quite conventional means. At least, the actors try their best to bring the artists' unique approach not only to literature but to life in general to the screen. Daniel Radcliffe does a good job at playing the very introvert Ginsberg at the start of his studies who eventually breaks more and more out of his shell and seems to experience what it means to be alive for the first time. It is unfortunate that Ginsberg had a thing for those round spectacles which are quite iconic but also unmistakably reminiscent of a certain young wizard. All the more surprising then, how strikingly Radcliffe shakes this notion off and manages to portray Ginsberg in a convincing manner. The same is true for the central performances of DeHaan, Foster and Huston who individually bring the antics of their quite eccentric characters to life without overdoing it (especially Foster balances on a tightrope here) and collectively have a vivid chemistry between them. They are surrounded by a decent supporting cast with David Cross, the always welcome Elizabeth Olsen and a small but noticeable part by Jennifer Jason Leigh.

Given that everything about this movie is fairly run-of-the-mill, the at times odd choice of music seems like a slightly desperate attempt to appear unorthodox. Apart from the aforementioned use of Jazz as a time marker we hear some anachronistic pieces of post-punk that kind of fit the scenery, but also one song in particular that completely kills the mood which is the (normally delightful) "Don't Look Back Into the Sun" by the Libertines. It plays over the end credits. Soundaestethically it completely counters everything we have just seen and heard before, which is somewhat reminiscent of the infamous "Goodfellas" end credits which I also have never been a big fan of, but whose moment of surprise I can acknowledge. This is just trying too hard. Where "Marie Antoinette" fails to follow up the snotty "Natural's Not in It" of the opening credits, "Kill Your Darlings" ends on a very rousing note while both movies deliver a very tame rendition of their real characters' astonishing lives. In both cases the choice of music may reveal that the films are not even closely as courageous and offbeat as they think they are. Just as the title is not nearly as clever as it thinks it is. I mean, come on. Really?

Incidentally the fact that it does carry a double meaning - since an actual murder is part of the story - is the first hint at why this movie cannot live up to the expectations a film about the Beat poets evokes in the first place.

When more and more money is a at stake in the movie business which causes the big studios increasingly to play it safe by sticking to simple formulas when it comes to plot, any deviation from a traditional three act structure can already be considered 'unconventional'. The first of the many turns Tom Ford's second film 'Nocturnal Animals' takes, is that the viewer relatively early realises that, despite the cinematography which is more Fincher than Fincher and an A-List lead with Amy Adams and Jake Gyllenhaal, she is about to witness anything but a Hollywood mainstream thriller.

The story revolves around Susan (Amy Adams) who is a successful but depressed gallery owner and lives unhappily with her second husband in a huge and very lonely mansion. One night her first husband Edward (Jake Gyllenhaal) whom she married when they were in college sends her the manuscript of a book he wrote called 'Nocturnal Animals'. The passages she reads are transformed into visual scenes that make up a story within the story.

Automatically you try to spot parallels and connections between her life and the story of the book. But Tom Ford complicates things further by implementing a third story line that consists of memories of Susan and Edward's relationship that ended quite harshly. The film freely jumps from one branch to another and creates a veritable maze for the viewer in which it is a joy to get lost. Once you think you have figured out where all of this is going, you are confronted with a scene that seems to be completely at odds with everything you have seen before.

'Nocturnal Animals' thereby leaves room for many different interpretations, which is refreshingly in contrast to Hollywood's overkill of exposition and the compulsive urge to resolve every little bit by the end. Fittingly, the film ends on a very ambiguous note where the biggest twist is that there is no twist that smoothly fills the gaps and ties all three story lines together. It is however not chaotic but very well thought through. You can distil a single consistent story from the film, but nine other people will probably come up with nine different versions. Therefore, I urge you not to go see 'Nocturnal Animals' by yourself. Whether you like it or not, you will want to talk about this film. A lot. Just as Susan is haunted by her ex-husband's manuscript, this film sticks with you for a long time.

Apart from the beautiful contrasts in visuals between the cold, bleak reality of Susan's current life, the Coenesque Neo-Western grittiness of the fictional story of the book and the dreamy atmosphere of the memory sequences as well as the challenging and complex script (an undeservingloss at the Golden Globes that hopefully will be corrected by the Academy), the icing on the cake are the brilliant performances by Amy Adams and Jake Gyllenhaal. The former just rounds up her perfect year by neatly distinguishing this tortured woman from Arrival's Louise by distancing the audience at first but then drawing it in with every second the film progresses.

Gyllenhaal on the other hand simply continues his almost flawless run of the past years by showing off his extraordinary capabilities as an actor whether his character is trying to remain calm while being obviously terrified, buzzing with joy when he falls in love with Susan or expresses ultimately raw rage where he seems to be about to break out of the screen. To this the film adds a strong supporting cast including Aaron Taylor-Johnson (at least the Golden Globes got that right), Michael Shannon, Laura Linney and the always welcomed Jena Malone who are all on top of their game here.

'Nocturnal Animals' is a highly emotional ride that is equally structurally compelling as it is relatable on a personal level. It is something like a Rubrick's cube of a film that you put together differently every time but never get completely straight. And that's exactly why it is so fascinating to watch.

It often occurs that the truly challenging films that instantly divide audiences prove to be the ones finding their place in film history. The reason why half the viewers love them and half the viewers hate them are essentially the same, they just provoke diverse reactions. I am sure Birdman is THE film of this decade (so far) that will overcome polarised reviews, subsequently going down as one of the definitive classics of our time. Still, while being an admirer of the film, I totally see how somebody could be put off by it. Because Birdman is unique, bold and absolutely committed to its central ideas in a way not many films are. So the confusion this can cause might turn into annoyance. However, this commitment is exactly what makes watching it such a remarkable experience.

We follow Riggan Thomson (Michael Keaton), a former Hollywood actor famous for his superhero films "Birdman", who tries to push his career in a different direction by bringing a play he wrote to Broadway. In contrast to the blockbuster films, he wants to do something meaningful. Still, he has a hard time finding his way in the theatre world that is so different from the environment he is used to. On top of that, his former role seems to haunt him as a voice in his head. He tries to convince him to return to the movies in order to make mindless works whose sole purpose is distraction and entertainment.

This is the set-up for a satirical dark comedy. The humour however plays out very subtly and presents itself as a mere by-product of the actual existential crisis Riggan goes through while trying to stop the play from turning into a disaster.

The way the film is presented is often (at least here on IMDb) a point of criticism. As most people probably know by now, it is depicted (seemingly) without any cuts, resulting in one epic shot captured by a camera floating through the tiny halls of the theatre. What could be a pseudo-artistic gimmick is actually a genius metafictional way of framing a film about the making of a play, since the film itself feels like a play. Furthermore, it effortlessly deconstructs conventional means of depicting time lapses. With one camera shift the film sometimes progresses several hours (for example when two characters talk about the preview later that evening and the camera moves away from them to the stage where this very preview is already happening). It is a depiction of time unlike anything I have ever seen before. Incidentally, it is much more similar to our actual experience of passing hours as they also seamlessly glide from one to the next. It is a filmic anomaly just because the viewer is used to decode montages, flashbacks, jump cuts and so forth which are just conventions. Therefore, aside from the metafictional aspects (of which they are a lot more in the film), this lack of visual cuts has a lot to say about the discrepancy of how we experience time and how we portray time.

That's why this is not a self-indulgent, "artsy" show-off technique. It is unique, but not for its own sake.

Apart from that, director Alejandro G. Iñárritu (who proves himself to be ready to explore new grounds since you would have never expected a black comedy by him) has assembled one of the greatest casts of all time. Moreover, as he often does, he manages to push each and every actor and actress to his and her top level. Zach Galifianakis instantly overcomes his stereotype of being the cartoonishly stupid imbecile in a film; Emma Stone got an Oscar nomination practically with one monologue (absolutely deservedly, since it is utterly intense); Edward Norton playfully fleshes out the pretentious theatre diva and gives this archetype some real depth; Naomi Watts scintillates (once again) with nailing jokes with perfect timing as well as depicting truly heartbreaking despair; and Michael Keaton just gives the performance of his career by examining a man breaking down bit by bit, mostly because of his inner conflicts he cannot resolve.

These actors bring to life a script that is packed with clever thoughts about our perception of art, the relation between fiction and reality and the mechanisms that come into play when trying to achieve something exceptional, which is in the end a very universal strive of humankind. Thereby, the narrative gains an extra dimension that goes way beyond the theatre context.

Basically, I can just encourage anyone to see this film. I actually consider IMDb to be quite a trustworthy source. But that Birdman is missing from the Top 250 list due to its ludicrously low rating is just madness.

"Style over substance" is an almost universal critique towards any movie that relies on visuals without delivering an intriguing plot or complex characters even though I tend to think that in some cases this critique is due to an unwillingness to engage with a cryptic message films as for example "Tree of Life" convey.

The problem with Ben Wheatley's new film "High-Rise" however is that while presenting beautiful scenes and detailed set-pieces, it makes overtly clear that there is a highly critical message to take away from it. But this message is drowned in a muddled mess of flashing visuals, incoherent storytelling and unrelatable characters.

We follow a young doctor Robert Laing (a solid performance by Tom Hiddleston) moving into his new apartment in a tower building that contains a micro-society of its own whose most important marker is a clear division between the people at the (literal and figurative) top and those at the bottom (even though they are far from being working class). Instead of delivering a complex depiction of this social environment, the film relies on its visuals to stress the differences between the groups (the rich being characterised by fancy parties reminiscent of an aristocratic scenery) for half an hour before the building itself and in the course of events society as a whole collapses.

A sort of class war breaks out but its exact trigger remains a secret. The rest of the film is basically a montage of various portrayals of society's descent into savagery. As all of this is exclusively highlighted by visual cues, the reproach "style over substance", as worn-out and over-used it may be, proves to be true. The film fails as a profound analysis of inherent flaws in our western, modern society. I have to admit that I haven't read the book "High-Rise" is based on, therefore I can't tell if the original story works better as either a critique or satire or both. But the film suffers from the ongoing contradiction of presenting itself as ultra-relevant and clever, while not delivering anything to back up this claim.

I am deeply disappointed that even though "High-Rise" is all about presentation, its sequences are put together so randomly that what could have been a really powerful audiovisual interplay just passes by as everything else. Of course I am talking about the sequence accompanied by Portishead's haunting version of "SOS". Surely, the moment loses some of its power just due to the fact that I already new it was coming when I first heard the uplifting string quartet rendition of the song. I am afraid, this is true for most people, as nowadays everything is exploited for marketing whether it is an effective OST or the unexpected appearance of a beloved character (I am looking at you Darth Vader in the "Rogue One" trailer). Nevertheless, the use of these two versions could have created a great arc. But, while the song does not fail to impress, the sequence it is supposed to contextualise does not stand out in any way.

If you have this admittedly good idea and manage to get a band like Portishead on board you have to come up with something striking. This is not the case, as it is just a generic, self-indulgent sequence as all the others, just in slow-motion. It serves as another example for how the film constantly self-consciously points to its alleged depth and relevance while ultimately failing to cover up its randomness.

A lot of potential - a good cast, great music and in theory a compelling story - is being completely squandered.