Review: Skyfall (2012)

Skyfall

The Bond we’ve been expecting 

Released: 26 October 2012

Director: Sam Mendes

Cast: Daniel Craig, Judi Dench, Javier Bardem, Ben Whishaw, Naomie Harris, Ralph Fiennes, Bérénice Marlohe

Plot: After a mission goes south in Istanbul and 007 is presumed dead, MI6 is attacked and M is targeted by someone from her past. Agent James Bond must track down the person responsible, which leads him down roads he never intended to revisit.

2010. Metro Goldwyn Mayer is in trouble. With a debt surpassing $3.7 billion, the then simply titled ‘Bond 23’ was strung up in development purgatory. The impact of the economic recession on MGM was becoming more and more apparent as output decreased and speculations over the lack of Bond- related news festered. 2008’s Quantum of Solace had already disappointed fans, and an eagerness for a strong follow up put pressure on MGM to deliver. Whatever the outcome, it was obvious that the studio was heavily reliant on Bond 23.

2012, and we now know 23 as a far better name – Skyfall. Sitting in the cinema and watching the endless plethora of Bond- related merchandise and loosely- associated brands is nostalgic by now. But then, Skyfall’s opening shot explodes onto screen – brass note accompaniment and all – and in a deliberately blurred shot in which Daniel Craig’s bright blue eyes become framed in a dash of sunlight, Bond is back.

And never better. Skyfall is one hell of a return for the most famous spy in the world. It is well aware of Quantum’s failings and makes up for them brilliantly. Most importantly though, it is unapologetically Bond- esque, trading

Quantum’s gritty realism for a taste of convention – because after all, it’s what we’ve come to expect from MI6’s greatest agent. In essence, Skyfall’s winning ticket is its ability to perfectly blend Casino Royale’s overhaul of the franchise whilst retaining, put simply, what makes Bond Bond.

Skyfall’s other strength lies in its narrative. Whereas James Bond’s past has been very much buried for 22 films, Skyfall allows the enigma to surface without leaving the audience hungering for anything more definitive – gladly, the film doesn’t do an X-Men Origins: Wolverine or Hannibal Rising on our nation’s most beloved movie hero – the result is more akin to a Nolan- era Bruce Wayne. Craig’s performance is consistently strong, too. Nobody can handle the Brosnan style cuff- correction or the sarcy dialogue with maximum admiration and minimum corniness like he can. It’s no wonder then, that Roger Moore, the longest running Bond so far has hailed Daniel Craig as his favourite. Craig remains solid into the final act, which is a challenge for any Bond actor in its context alone. As Skyfall guides us deeper into Bond’s past, a geographical shift, a descent in glamour and a stripping away of style leave Skyfall at the mercy of the main three – Craig, Dench and Bardem. It’s a risky move, but the three make use of a great script and input from Mendes sees Skyfall to a triumphant end.

Bardem is easily one of the most memorable and dynamic Bond villains, partly due to a wise development decision to follow the Bond baddie handbook – dodgy hair, foreign accent, and a deformity that tops the chart (hint: it’s no Scaramanga third nipple). Once he is introduced (it does take some time) Bardem very much carries the film. The return of Q is also warmly welcome, and Whishaw does a fantastic job of it too – this time on a par with 007’s snide remarks. The bond girls Eve and Sévérine (Miles and Marlohe) also energize the narrative, the former adopting a more hands-on – easy now – rough and tough role and the latter encompassing the traits we have come to expect from one of 007’s squeezes. And of course, credits go out to Dench’s M, who plays a pivotal role this time.

Skyfall doesn’t ease us into the action either – it stars at full throttle, featuring a car and bike chase, a train sequence and plenty of fisticuffs action to keep the audience engaged throughout. Throw into the mix an exotic location (which Skyfall has no shortage of) and you have your perfect bond movie. Thankfully, it is saturated with classic bond moments and nods to previous instalments – the shark pool is traded in for a pit crawling with Komodo dragons, Q remarks that if Bond expected exploding pens, they “don’t really go in for that anymore”, but most glaringly (and brilliantly) of all is the return of James Bond’s most famous car – arguably Skyfall’s most memorable moment.

 Sam Mendes breathes new life into what Quantum of Solace seemed to lose control of, and a director with remarkable experience in character- led drama is an obvious pick for Skyfall’s heavily demanding modus operandi. The film’s visual potential is this time not in establishing shots of beautiful locations that ludicrous budgets have achieved, but instead in a Shanghai high-rise fight sequence which pits 007 and an assassin’s silhouettes against one another whilst vibrant ads run up the glass building’s exterior. It makes for a colourful display of well-choreographed hand-to-hand combat, which Bond has latterly become proficient in. Cinematographically, Skyfall is the most ambitious Bond yet. All things considered, Skyfall feels like the true successor to Casino Royale, and believe the hype – it could well be the best Bond since the Connery epoch. Sherioushly.

Verdict: 007 delivers his finest film in a long time, thanks to a gracious cast and inventive, yet loyal, directing. The future is looking bright for the world’s longest running franchise – for fans, James Bond won’t return soon enough. ★★★★★

Review: The Perks of Being a Wallflower

The Perks of Being a Wallflower (2012)

Stephen Chbosky brings his much-loved coming-of-age novel to life

Released: 3 October 2012

Director: Stephen Chbosky

Cast: Logan Lerman, Emma Watson, Ezra Miller, Paul Rudd

Plot: Lonely freshman Charlie (Lerman) attends high school as a friendless, troubled, aspiring writer. Haunted by ‘visions’ of traumatic past events, he soon finds solace in an eccentric group of friends, including Sam (Watson) and Patrick (Miller).

FEW coming-of-age films remember the 90s in such a favourable light. For the 80s, there was the Breakfast Club. The 60s? Quadrophenia. Though arguably not as great as its predecessors, The Perks of Being a Wallflower depicts the 90s as a truly great decade in which to be young – combining the swinging sixties with the spirit of subsequent decades, whilst exploring individuality as freely as fraternity. What Perks does at its best is communicate the complications faced by those youths of the out- crowd, particularly Charlie, who suffers from an undisclosed condition that can be repressed by getting busy ‘participating’ (as he describes) and writing anonymous letters.

            Perks’ strength is in its script’s tenacity to entertain. At no point does it become tedious or drab – even through its weaker moments. This is most likely the effect of Chbosky’s input as writer (both novel and screenplay) and director, resulting in a creative monopoly that drives the film towards its successes. The casting is near-perfect, too. The talents of the main three actors breathe life into the script – Lerman is ideally cast as the awkward 15 year old Charlie ambling through high school, making friends with his English teacher on the first day, Watson as the sweet, spirited but naïve music-lover Sam and Miller as Patrick, the (standout) energetic, overly camp yet extremely likeable gay stepbrother of Sam. Together, these elements form a very fruity cocktail which becomes the essence of the film. So far, so good.

            Later on, though, it becomes apparent that the film’s pace is more akin to that of a rollercoaster, and though this is an inevitable consequence of where the narrative has been heading from the start, you can’t help but feel that it all comes on a little suddenly. At this point, a great script that has made efficient use of its subtlety struggles to adapt to a narrative U-turn. This is followed by an all too convenient outcome to one of the chief character’s stories, falling in favour of another’s. But where Perks short-changes itself is in its hypocrisy concerning deep philosophy – early on, a peripheral character is asked if he writes poetry, his reply being “poetry writes me”. Intentionally ridiculous, of course, yet then the tagline “we are infinite” creeps its way into the dialogue. The film’s utilisation of depth has double standards, it seems.

            It is saved ultimately by a decent script otherwise and fabulous performances, and something useful lies within every character. Their development, and the mystery surrounding Charlie in particular, keeps The Perks of Being a Wallflower viewers curious enough to see it to its end.

Verdict: Great performances all round and a thoughtful, well written script compensate for any shortcomings. It is, however, an enjoyable film at its greatest moments. ★★★

Review: Anna Karenina (2012)

Anna Karenina

More moustaches and princesses than Super Mario

Released: 7 September 2012

Director: Joe Wright

Cast: Keira Knightley, Jude Law, Aaron Taylor-Johnson, Kelly MacDonald, Matthew Macfadyen, Domnhall Gleeson, Alicia Vikander 

Plot: Russia, 1874. Anna Karenina (Knightley) travels to Moscow to talk her sister in law out of leaving her husband (Madfadyen). Whilst at a ball, she meets Count Vronsky (Taylor-Johnson), who catches her eye, much to the dislike of her well established husband Alexei Karenin (Law). What happens next may turn Anna's life on its well polished heels.

THOUGH at first Joe Wright’s adaptation of Anna Karenina may appear to be a Russian Pride and Prejudice – Knightley pouts, straight sitting, corset- constricted women aplenty – it sets itself apart from his previous ventures into period drama by heralding the title of his best film yet. Tolstoy’s work is done more than justice here – all eight volumes compacted superbly into 130 minutes, bringing to life the elements of the novel, rather than retelling it visually. What Wright manages to accomplish is an Aronofsky- like sense of style. A ballroom dance scene has the camera fleeting around the dance floor, cutting increasingly quickly as the music and tension does, Oblonsky’s workforce stamp rhythmically, and farmers cut crops like synchronized dancers. The film constantly oozes with visceral brilliance.

            This is predominantly due to Wright’s choice to capture the entire film’s events within the confines of a theatre – trading in beautiful countryside for artificial backdrops and turf. Perhaps the most memorable scene is that of a horse race which takes place inside the auditorium, championing symbolism over realism. Though to untrained eyes and minds this arguably creates a surreal aurora, its artistic payoff is worth the oddity it creates. To Tolstoy fans that are aware of his apparent disregard for theatre and its architects, this may indeed seem an odd choice to have been made – however, Anna Karenina’s original linguistic substance is more than deserving of a suitable aesthetic counterpart, and this can be found in Wright’s work. The mise-en-scene is amplified by the use of stage lighting, inventive cinematography (as experienced in Hanna) and immaculate supporting roles.

            One of the film’s standout performances is that of Jude Law’s take on Alexei Karenin, the troubled, cuckolded and moralistic husband of Anna, whose situation the audience is most sympathetic with. At first adopting a nature too accepting (by today’s standards), his character comes to life as the story progresses, whilst the strength of character seen in Aaron Taylor-Johnson’s Count Vronsky diminishes as time goes on. Perhaps the most enjoyable character is that of Oblonsky (Macfadyen, another Wright regular), who enjoys aristocratic life to the full, swanning in and out of his overcoat as his employees place it upon him and becoming the sole carrier of any comic relief to be had from a largely tragic narrative. This relief, though, is short lived before the drama kicks back heavily, and the audience is thrust back to the mercy of an enthralling script. Thus, Macfadyen is enjoyed few times and far between. A star-studded cast packs no punches, either – the likes of Domnhall Gleeson and Kelly Macdonald shining examples here.

            Where it falters every so slightly is in its great expanse of source material. As is with many literary adaptations, much must be left out. Unfortunately for Anna Karenina, this sacrifice is rooted in lack of character exploration: there are many rich, engaging characters that don’t receive the screen time they are due. In the film’s defence, however, the drama between the more prominent roles provides enough gratification to counteract this.

Verdict: Wright takes the beauty of Tolstoy’s writing and throws in some artistic flare of his own, marking his best work yet. An indulging, articulate piece of cinema worthy of its author. ★★★★