2011. Dir: Lasse Hallstrom. Starring: Ewan MacGregor, Emily Blunt, Kristin Scott Thomas, Amr Waked and Conleth Hill. ●●●○○
I hope you don't mind if I waffle a little at the start of this review, can you believe it's been five weeks since I last saw the inside of a cinema, let alone had the opportunity to discuss my findings with you here. I also have the added advantage of having read Paul Torday's novel, Salmon Fishing in the Yemen, dramatised by Slumdog Millionaire's Simon Beaufoy and directed by Swedish helmer Lasse Hallstrom. The novel itself takes an epistolic format with a series of e-mails, interviews, diary entries and Hansard extracts which allow the audience to piece together the events that led to the suggested desert set fly casting. Cinema naturally struggles with translating the myriad of styles into a single movie, although the film nods to social networking and modern communication systems, however the smoothing out of the narrative had the unfortunate side effect of downplaying some of the key themes of the novel.
If the central conceit of establishing the sport of salmon fishing in the mountainous areas of Southern Yemen seems far fetched then you will probably sympathise with Ewan MacGregor the middle ranking civil servant in DEFRA with an expertise in Caddis fly larvae seconded into the project much to his personal chagrin. Perhaps you will just have the confidence that money can buy you anything, including the apparently impossible, like business consultant Emily Blunt. Or maybe there's a third way, maybe all you really need in life is faith - possibly a faith in an greater force, God, if you will - or just faith in the power of idea. It's this third way that is personified by Amr Waked Yemeni Sheikh in the novel, a man who's mere presence changes the way people look at the world, who's softly spoken wisdom nicely counterpoints the stressed actions of our main protagonists and most especially the wheeler-dealer Prime Minister's press secretary Kristin Scott Thomas, in a slightly less sweary version of The Thick of It's Malcolm Tucker.
It's perhaps a shame that the film stirs away from the practical difficulties of the project, summarising them in a few ill-tempered rants from MacGregor and an extended section looking at the procurement of the fish, as this reduction of focus (along with other decisions) undermines how important faith is to Waked and to the project as a whole, and as a result lessening the impact. Instead the unlikely romance between MacGregor and Blunt takes centre stage with all the complexities of their personal lives laid bare.
You can't fault the two leads, mind. MacGregor does fusty reasonable well, even if he's fundamentally miscast in a role clearly written for someone much older, struggling at the outset within a failing marriage (and well done to the studio for not writing out that tricky story element). Blunt is as delightful as she always is although the romantic decisions she makes in the final third of the film are hard to keep up with.
Of course both of these performances are blasted out of the movie by Scott Thomas who sets the screen alight every time she gets a chance, her Press Secretary is ballsy and insightful, whizzing from flirtatious to bitchiness and back again often within a sentence. As ever she's the main reason to watch a film, although without resorting to spoilers, her final act is squeezed unforgiveably into a - admittedly quite humourous - punchline.
Once again I find myself drawn back to comparisons with the novel. The central romance is pushed forward whilst the issue of faith is downgraded, the ending is softened to make a joke about ineffective politicians funnier. And I don't want to seem like a like literary snob arguing against the very concept of adapting novels but this is a rare case where I feel Simon Beaufoy his missed the mark, taking an insightful satirical novel and turning into a standard romantic comedy that merely hints at the bigger themes.
Overall I can thoroughly recommend this diverting and pleasant movie, even if I can't honesty say I was stunned by it.
Thursday, 26 April 2012
Salmon Fishing in the Yemen
Wednesday, 12 May 2010
Dear John
2010. Dir: Lasse Hallström. Starring: Channing Tatum, Amanda Seyfried, Richard Jenkins, Henry Thomas and D.J. Cotrona. ●○○○○
If Dear John had opened in 2009 it would have had the dubious homour of being the worst film I had seen that year. As it is it hasn't quite achieved that level of notoriety. Please note this is not an endorsement of the film, just a reminder of how bad my choices have been this year.
With it being a Nicolas Sparks (The Notebook, Nights in Rodanthe) adaptation you could write the plot on the back of a matchbox. Soldier (Channing Tatum - wooden) meets student (Amanda Seyfried - not bothering to act at all) during one summer. They fall in love. He gets called away. They write each other letters. Until something happens that makes them stop - I won't say what it is for fear of spoiling the film but if you've heard the generic term of "Dear John" letters then you probably know how the film will end.
I would like to point out that the movie does have a very realistic portrait of the growth of a relationship and the strains it then couses when they are seperated. Even if the very idea of a "special forces" soldier not trying to coerce or cajole his girlfriend into sex until the night before he's shipped to Iraq seems unlikely it does help to accentuate the deep mytical bond between the characters - enough to make you imagine they're meant to be together. The endless montage scenes with the letters between the protagonists as voiceovers also help in this regard. I'd also recommend the work of the location scout, finding a suitable southern ranch for Seyfried's wealthy family, a gorgeous beachfront and the combat settings were equally realistic.
I have also been told that the themes of how the sense of duty felt by both the characters is what attracts them, pulls them apart and gives them a way forward. However this is not something that occurred to me during or after the film so it's fair to say we can discount the intellectual critique.
On the other hand the performances across the board are pretty terrible. Even the reliable Richard Jenkins, underplaying autistic tendencies, is not giving anything close to his best work. Talking of autism the film grossly exploits two peripheral characters on the spectrum in order to make cheap points about the type of people our lovers are and how they relate to the world. It also uses strokes and cancer to make sly little points. Outside of the lovers characters come and go with no sense of narrative structure and their philosophies and emotional outlook will vary according to the needs of the plot.
One example of this is Seyfried college buddy Randy (played by Scott Porter - who frankly is far more attractive than Tatum). Early on, whilst he's being a jerk just to provoke Tatum, she tells Tatum that he only thinks he likes her, but in fact she's not his type at all. My gaydar instantly went ping at that but there you go. This was followed by another scene later where he apologises to Tatum and lets him into the social set, then finally he's staring at Seyfried's back during a lecture. He's then never seen again. Doesn't add anything else to the plot, you see.
Lasse Hallstrom, who managed to be delicate with Hachi, pours on the bathos until you can stand no more turning this into an even more sickly sweet confection than it had any right to be.
In conclusion I have to say this is the sort of film that idiots like me watch, so you don't have to. Awful awful awful.
Thursday, 22 April 2010
Hachi: A Dog's Story
2009. Dir: Lasse Hallström. Starring: Richard Gere, Sarah Roemer, Joan Allen, Cary-Hiroyuki Tagawa and Jason Alexander. ●●●●○
It's no secret that I like the simple things in life. I have lost count of the number of times I have said in reviews that a simple story well told can reach the highest level of film-making. So it was with great delight that I watched Hachi: A Dog's Story, a simple dog's story.
Based on a true story, only transplanted to a more sellable US setting, the film explores the fundamental relationship between one man and his dog as Music Professor Richard Gere adopts an Akita puppy he finds at the local train station. Through each other they learn what a true friend is. Spoilers follow after the jump.
We are treated to watching the two of them bond for an hour, Gere trying to teach Hachi (Japanese word for 8) how to fetch, Hachi's insistence on following his master to the town station; this is especially important as Hachi develops a routine whereby he follows his master every morning, then returns at 5 to pick him up. They share moments of elation, comfort and misery. As a previous dog owner myself I fully appreciate falling asleep on the couch with dogs on your lap and being told they we must all stay there because something has been chewed.
Then, suddenly, Hachi won't follow his pack leader and in a bizarre twist of behaviour takes Gere his ball. Everything that sets Hachi apart from other dogs is turned on it's head. There's even a burst of aggresive barking. We are lead to believe that Hachi is exhibiting his dissatisfaction at being treated lower on th social strata within the pack - Gere's daughter had annouced her pregnancy and he had also spent more time with his testy wife (Joan Allen giving a flawlessly underplayed performance - nicely tipping the audience off to the history of the family and their relationships).
The behavioural differences turn out to be more complex when out of the blue Gere collapses in his lecture hall, breathing his last and letting the ball Hachi had passed to him roll out of shot. The dog then mounts a vigil, returning to the train station each night to wait for his former master who will never return.
The story is mawkish, sentimental and signposts all the plot developments early on. Nevertheless it can be forgiven these flaws for the simple reason that it works. That sense of loneliness and loyalty the film evokes in it's third act is so profound that there literally wasn't a dry eye in the house (I personally wept like a baby).
I will critisize the bookending (why do they do it?) as Gere's grandson - who you will remember never met his grandfather - relates the story to his class. This is certainly a step too close to bathos and the grotesque image of pre-pubescent schoolchildren pretending to cry nearly killed off the emotions felt in the rest of the film.
The performances were serviceable throughout with the notable stand-out of the dog's playing Hachi. The pup wo played him in the early scenes particurlarly displayed a shocking range, along with serious come-to-bed eyes.
The dog vision segments were inventive using a bleached black and white footage and muffled soundtrack, but needed more of them to fully appreciate how they worked to establish the relationships, especially as the film focussed well on the co-dependence of the relationship. Well done to d.p. Ron Fortunato (Before the Devil Knows You're Dead, Catch a Fire).
Lasse Hallström did a fine anonymous job in the directors chair, it's may not be up there with his Swedish output but he crafted a better movie than he's made for a long time.
Overall Hachi was a fine example of what every dog-based film should be. An uplifting portrayal of that very special relationship between a man and his best friend.
