2012. Dir: Joe Wright. Starring: Keira Knightley, Jude Law, Aaron Taylor-Johnson, Domhnall Gleeson and Alicia Vikander. ●●●●○
We are now approximately 70% of the way through the 2012 and it is inevitable that a number of the Academy Award players have already seen the inside of cinemas. Whether it's the spectacular effects sequences of The Avengers or the surprisingly strong performances of Magic Mike there are some films that get namechecked during the awards season. But over the last few weeks we have seen the passing of the Venice and Telluride festivals whilst Toronto is in full swing so the floodgates can now open. Every movie that opens in the Auntumnal months will be judged as a possible contender and it's safe to say that Joe Wright's Anna Karenina has become the first must-see of the season, and whilst I doubt whether it can win any of the big prizes (the style and setting may put off as many voters as it pulls in) it will certainly be a major part of the conversation.
I won't spend a great deal of time describing the plot of Leo Tolstoy's 150 year old classic, venerated by literary circles and adapted to the screen on dozen's of occasions, except to reiterate Tolstoy's counterpoints two romances. The first passionate, uncontrolled, destructive between the unhappy heroine Anna (Keira Knightley) and dashing cavalry officer Count Vronsky (Aaron Taylor-Johnson), whilst the second is more sedate, slower to build by made of firm foundations involving Levin (Domhnall Gleeson) and Kitty (Alicia Vikander). These courtships are inexorably linked, both in terms of their shared histories (Kitty holds a candle for Vronsky as the novels start) and thematically.
Tom Stoppard wisely realizes the importance of Levin's story and retains it (many film versions do not, hardly surprising that a 900 page novel needs some cuts to make it to the big screen) so we shift between the two pairs of lovers, and as one affair blossoms the other appears to wither. Stoppard rattles through the early plot developments, aided by Joe Wright audacious move to film almost entirely within a theatre, using the stage, auditorium, wings and fly rails to signify different aspects of Russian society and allowing scenes to flow into each other with sets, props and extras moving in and out of the setting. It's is incredible to behold, one moment Matthew Macfadyen (having a ball as incorrigible womaniser Oblonsky) is marching through his factory of paperwork stamping drones then a flurry and long pan later we're at dinner with Levin, diligently eating the diet of the peasant classes then suddenly we're at the Shcherbatskaya's watching society function.
The staging works to reinforce the artificiality of Imperial Russian aristocracy, the lives of the elite are constantly on display to each other, every gesture and action judged by the gawping onlookers, every reaction magnified grotesquely. Wright uses a number of cinematic and theatrical tricks, including choreography, perspective and Dario Marianelli's sumptuous score to guide the audience's emotional response, the ball scene where Anna and Vronsky first meet is electric, the horse race heart-stopping and Anna's final visit to the train station unexpectedly tense.
The only times we leave the theatre (apart from an ill-judged picnic scene between Anna and Vronky) is to Levin's country estate, far from the view of the baying crowd. It's a more simple world, where chickens grace his dining room not immaculate tableware and the expansive Russian countryside is gorgeously shot by Seamus McGarvey.
Keira Knightly is just the right side of virtuous for Anna, cleverly showing her all-consuming passion and her third act descent is devastating and acute. Jude Law meanwhile retains a dignity as cuckold Karenin, his actions, from the misjudged forgiveness of Anna to him banishing the mother from son seem both cold yet believable actions, it's a testament to Law's performance in that even when you disagree with his actions you understand his motivation. Gleeson and Vikander also make a cute pair, and I look forward to seeing them over the next few years as their careers develop.
It's a shame the production loses steam once Anna leaves Karenin, as the story slows down and Anna's jealousies and suspicions tangle with societies rejection of her lifestyle there is some interesting stylistic work highlighting the production design and portentous use of mirrors, but it simply cannot compete with the innovations of the first half and somewhat sags in comparison.
That said this is a near masterpiece and the first film of the 2012 awards season that must be seen. I highly recommend it to all movie goers.
Tuesday, 11 September 2012
Anna Karenina
Tuesday, 8 May 2012
Albert Nobbs
2011. Dir: Rodrigo Garcia. Starring: Glenn Close, Mia Wasikowska, Aaron Johnson, Janet McTeer and Pauline Collins. ●●●●○
It's fairly common for me to disagree with the majority of critical and commercial response to movies, in fact on a regular basis I watch films hailed as the second coming only to walk away with a "huh?" and a shrug. Sometimes I just don't understand the fuss being made. Oddly though this usually only happens in one direction, I may detest a film everyone else loves but when a film is getting a mauling the best I can usually say is "it's not a complete disaster." However on watching Albert Nobbs I was shocked by the critical derision it have received on both sides of the Atlantic, what's more I don't really understand why, although I suspect it is in part due to the high expectations surrounding Glenn Close's very own passion project. Glenn first played the central role of a male impersonator off Broadway in 1982 and has been working on adapting George Moore's short story for over 20 years, and the sad truth is no matter how good you think the performance and the film is it wasn't worth a 20 year delay.
It's essentially the story of the emotional awakening of a repressed button upped butler who happens to be a woman. In 19th century Dublin with poor social mobility for men, let alone women, Nobbs has spent 20 years masquerading as a man in order to manage a dignified existence and save up to purchase a tobacconist. Her painful but safe life is disturbed when house painter Hubert Page (Janet McTeer) has to share Albert's room for the night and discovers Albert's secret. After a few hours of panic Hubert admits that she too is a woman, opening up a whole new world of emotional connection to Nobbs. Indeed the plan for the shop changes from being a one man show to a partnership as Alberts woo the impressionable young maid Helen (Mia Wasikowska).
Most of the characters are largely unlikeable, Nobbs is penny-pinching and emotionally insensitive, Helen is greedy and cheeky even Brendan Gleeson's Doctor is obsequious and a drunkard. Yet it is to the credit of everyone's performances that in spite of all that we care about the future of the characters.
Glenn in particular completely gets under the skin of Albert Nobbs, although frankly you'd expect that given the amount of time she's worked on the character, it's a totally committed performance as furtive and damaged as she is hopeful for the future, every moment of her history etched on her face, every decision the character makes reflected in her eyes. Janet McTeer is also masterful, less so for the emotionality her relative freeness and frankness leaves less to project from behind a mask, but physically she's perfect. There's a great scene where Close and McTeer put on dresses and take a walk along the beach, and they look like men in dresses, layers of performance which are incredible.
Wasikowska is less successful, her modern mannerisms difficult to get past, but she's the only cast member who seems out of place.
The script does a good job of highlighting the hypocrisies in Victorian society both in terms of class and gender, albeit mainly through the gossipy monologues from Pauline Collins' Hotelier. Where Jonathan Rhys Meyers aristocratic cameo is given free range to sleep with whomever he wants and Brendan Gleeson is conducting an illicit affair with one of the waitresses the merest suggestion of a scandal with Nobbs or Helen causes the eventual doom of their characters.
There are plenty of areas where the film gets things terribly wrong too. The pace is deadly slow - believe me I understand why many viewers consider the film to be dull and it is purely an actors love in - which has the doubled effect of confusing the timeline, about 18 months passes through the film, based on the seasons and certain plot points developing , but there's no depth to the time passing. The moments where Nobbs imagines the future of the shop cheapen both the idea and the film with the sub-standard graphics and finally the relentless gloom works against the viewer. Whilst I have no doubt that things were tough in the 1800's a glimmer of hope would have been nice (hopefully that's not too much of a spoiler).
I also loved Brian Byrne and Glenn Close's main theme Lay Your Head Down, both as performed by Sinead O'Connor in the end credits and as used in the narrative, it's a beautiful piece of music that deserved more attention at the end of last year.
This ranks low on the four blob films but I do believe it fully deserves that fourth blob and I would definitely recommend the movie to anyone.
