There are a lot of good movies about alcoholism, that doesn’t make them easy to watch, by no means. The very idea of making a movie, an entertainment, about addiction, of any kind, if it’s done with any amount of honesty, can make for a grueling experience to watch.
Just from memory you have The Lost Weekend, Leaving Las Vegas, Shakes the Clown, Everything Must Go and the more recent Blue Jasmine with a pill popping, wine swilling woman in deep denial at its center.
I’m sure there are many more, all of these are worthwhile films. To this list you can definitely add Glassland, an independent movie from Ireland. What irony that a movie about alcoholism, and a good one at that, would come from Ireland. I’m Irish myself, and Ireland, much like countries such as Australia, Scotland, Japan and…the United States for that matter,...
Just from memory you have The Lost Weekend, Leaving Las Vegas, Shakes the Clown, Everything Must Go and the more recent Blue Jasmine with a pill popping, wine swilling woman in deep denial at its center.
I’m sure there are many more, all of these are worthwhile films. To this list you can definitely add Glassland, an independent movie from Ireland. What irony that a movie about alcoholism, and a good one at that, would come from Ireland. I’m Irish myself, and Ireland, much like countries such as Australia, Scotland, Japan and…the United States for that matter,...
- 2/27/2016
- by Tom Stockman
- WeAreMovieGeeks.com
Taking the glass half-full approach nets the biggest return in entertainment for Irish drama Glassland, despite the fact that the aggressively downcast little film tries to send viewers into a solemn haze at every turn. Focusing on the out-of-control addiction issues suffocating a small family of two, Glassland‘s scant but scathing 90-minute runtime is impossible to survive unmarked.
It’s an oppressive subject matter, but the movie never feels fully equipped to deal with it in any sort of novel way; Glassland decides to take the path most traveled by addiction-centric narratives and edges out ever-so-slightly on top through sheer force of will. Writer/director Gerard Barrett’s script has just enough moments of levity and positivity to grasp onto, thanks to his serious treatment of the issue and his characters, that while Glassland may not approach the level of indelibility won by similarly themed dramas, it at least...
It’s an oppressive subject matter, but the movie never feels fully equipped to deal with it in any sort of novel way; Glassland decides to take the path most traveled by addiction-centric narratives and edges out ever-so-slightly on top through sheer force of will. Writer/director Gerard Barrett’s script has just enough moments of levity and positivity to grasp onto, thanks to his serious treatment of the issue and his characters, that while Glassland may not approach the level of indelibility won by similarly themed dramas, it at least...
- 2/13/2016
- by Mitchel Broussard
- We Got This Covered
Dublin’s damped and gloomy days underscore the heartfelt human drama in Irish filmmaker Gerard Barrett's affecting feature “Glassland.” Centered on a mother and a son, the film doesn’t resort to excessive embellishments to capture the agony of addiction and the strength of unshakable love. Its melancholic beauty is elicited from the decisively enthralling cinematography and two utterly intense performances. The characters, like the film itself, offer sincere tenderness amidst the irrational affliction they must face together.
Working as cab driver to support his small imperfect family, John (Jack Reynor) leads a life with few hopes for his own future. As he assures on a recurrent voice over phrase, he’s exhausted and frustrated with his predetermined existence. The monumental task of taking care of Jean (Toni Collette), his alcoholic mother, is not limited to the financial aspect. She routinely drinks herself to the point of shameless and violent incoherence. These episodes inevitably take a toll on John who’s unable to find a way to combat her corrosive illness.
Tireless John carries this enormous burden in addition to his already numerous responsibilities, such as visiting his younger brother Kit (Harry Nagle), who was born with Down syndrome and lives in a government facility given that the situation at home is far less than ideal. Revealing her tremendous selfishness, Jean refuses to visit her youngest, which leaves John to fill in the emotional void as best as he can. His kind efforts are as simple as a spontaneous car ride or a birthday card, but they are constant and brimming with warmth.
Though not explicitly discussed, John’s actions let us know that some of the work he is involved with is not exactly law-abiding. Caught up in this daily chaos, the young man’s only relief is his time with childish, but loyal, best friend Shane (played by a humorous and endearing Will Poulter), a video game-loving momma’s boy. Their lives couldn’t be more disparate as Shane is planning to escape the passiveness of this town by traveling abroad. Quietly disguising his sadness with lighthearted banter, John internally understands he can’t just pack up and leave.
Observing his characters’ challenging reality as if hiding behind door frames, Barret and his cinematographer Piers McGrail construct a visually poetic maze out of this family’s mistrust and disappointment. The glass partitions can’t contain their explosive arguments always adorned with powerful moments of bare truth. Through these stylistic choices we are invited to become silent witnesses with the camera. Each door becomes a window into the bottled up anger and suffering that resides in their home. Sometimes we are allowed to lean in closer to look at Jean’s tormented face or John’s inspiring determination. More often, we must wait outside the room for the next outburst to occur. It’s visual storytelling at its best.
Showcasing a precise ability for nuanced tone, Barrett assertively chooses to sprinkle a handful of subtly comedic moments, which offer glimpses of joy as palpable and delicate as the most painful sequences in the film. John is an unsung hero who never wallows in the daunting nature of his circumstances, but rather strives to find solutions. Capturing the very essence of this troubled man, Reynor gives a moving performance that irradiates compassion and generosity towards all those he encounters. Every smile, scream, and piercingly disapproving look towards Jean’s behavior carries a touching sense of duty. His character strongly refuses to succumb to despair and doing the correct thing is always above everything else. This is a career-making performance that while subdued, stands out because of its naturalistic humanity.
But Reynor is not alone when it comes to marvelous on-camera work here. In what becomes a standout scene, Toni Collette delivers a devastating monologue that is at once genuinely devastating and harrowing. She dishes out her thoughts on motherhood, loneliness, and her dependence on the negatively soothing friend that is alcohol. Collette is marvelously vulnerable and occasionally even terrifying. It’s at once a physically and psychologically haunting performance that complements Reynor’s gentle strength. She is consumed by her character in a powerful manner.
Their road to recovery it scattered with tangible worldly obstacles and the necessity to reconnect spiritually so that she can heal and he can start his own life. “Glassland” is about this crossroads in their lives, one in which the dark passages must be overpowered by John’s devotion to help Jean. There is nothing he won’t do to help her, but the uncertainty of their future is reaching unbearable heights. Death lurks in every corner waiting for the final, and brutal blow to come. John’s mission is to stop his mother from taking it, to save her from herself.
For all its wonderfully dim color palette, for its unexpected charm, its carefully design aesthetics without being overpowering, its heart-wrenching sensibility, and its compelling cast, Barrett’s “Glassland” is as much a directorial triumph as it is a fantastic challenge for its actors. The film avoids overdramatic and trite tropes, and instead focuses on its successfully minimalist scope. I loved this film for the grave themes explored through a lens coated with sympathy, and for the brave people it uses to tell its story. John is a quotidian warrior who is untainted by his problematic situation, although his face portrays a stark demeanor, there’s a smiling face reflected on the glass in front of him. That internal desire to be happy cannot be shattered.
"Glassland" opens today in Los Angeles at the Laemmle Music Hall and in NYC at Cinema Village. The film is also available on VOD.
Note: Review originally published during the 2015 Sundance Film Festival where "Glassland" premiered...
Working as cab driver to support his small imperfect family, John (Jack Reynor) leads a life with few hopes for his own future. As he assures on a recurrent voice over phrase, he’s exhausted and frustrated with his predetermined existence. The monumental task of taking care of Jean (Toni Collette), his alcoholic mother, is not limited to the financial aspect. She routinely drinks herself to the point of shameless and violent incoherence. These episodes inevitably take a toll on John who’s unable to find a way to combat her corrosive illness.
Tireless John carries this enormous burden in addition to his already numerous responsibilities, such as visiting his younger brother Kit (Harry Nagle), who was born with Down syndrome and lives in a government facility given that the situation at home is far less than ideal. Revealing her tremendous selfishness, Jean refuses to visit her youngest, which leaves John to fill in the emotional void as best as he can. His kind efforts are as simple as a spontaneous car ride or a birthday card, but they are constant and brimming with warmth.
Though not explicitly discussed, John’s actions let us know that some of the work he is involved with is not exactly law-abiding. Caught up in this daily chaos, the young man’s only relief is his time with childish, but loyal, best friend Shane (played by a humorous and endearing Will Poulter), a video game-loving momma’s boy. Their lives couldn’t be more disparate as Shane is planning to escape the passiveness of this town by traveling abroad. Quietly disguising his sadness with lighthearted banter, John internally understands he can’t just pack up and leave.
Observing his characters’ challenging reality as if hiding behind door frames, Barret and his cinematographer Piers McGrail construct a visually poetic maze out of this family’s mistrust and disappointment. The glass partitions can’t contain their explosive arguments always adorned with powerful moments of bare truth. Through these stylistic choices we are invited to become silent witnesses with the camera. Each door becomes a window into the bottled up anger and suffering that resides in their home. Sometimes we are allowed to lean in closer to look at Jean’s tormented face or John’s inspiring determination. More often, we must wait outside the room for the next outburst to occur. It’s visual storytelling at its best.
Showcasing a precise ability for nuanced tone, Barrett assertively chooses to sprinkle a handful of subtly comedic moments, which offer glimpses of joy as palpable and delicate as the most painful sequences in the film. John is an unsung hero who never wallows in the daunting nature of his circumstances, but rather strives to find solutions. Capturing the very essence of this troubled man, Reynor gives a moving performance that irradiates compassion and generosity towards all those he encounters. Every smile, scream, and piercingly disapproving look towards Jean’s behavior carries a touching sense of duty. His character strongly refuses to succumb to despair and doing the correct thing is always above everything else. This is a career-making performance that while subdued, stands out because of its naturalistic humanity.
But Reynor is not alone when it comes to marvelous on-camera work here. In what becomes a standout scene, Toni Collette delivers a devastating monologue that is at once genuinely devastating and harrowing. She dishes out her thoughts on motherhood, loneliness, and her dependence on the negatively soothing friend that is alcohol. Collette is marvelously vulnerable and occasionally even terrifying. It’s at once a physically and psychologically haunting performance that complements Reynor’s gentle strength. She is consumed by her character in a powerful manner.
Their road to recovery it scattered with tangible worldly obstacles and the necessity to reconnect spiritually so that she can heal and he can start his own life. “Glassland” is about this crossroads in their lives, one in which the dark passages must be overpowered by John’s devotion to help Jean. There is nothing he won’t do to help her, but the uncertainty of their future is reaching unbearable heights. Death lurks in every corner waiting for the final, and brutal blow to come. John’s mission is to stop his mother from taking it, to save her from herself.
For all its wonderfully dim color palette, for its unexpected charm, its carefully design aesthetics without being overpowering, its heart-wrenching sensibility, and its compelling cast, Barrett’s “Glassland” is as much a directorial triumph as it is a fantastic challenge for its actors. The film avoids overdramatic and trite tropes, and instead focuses on its successfully minimalist scope. I loved this film for the grave themes explored through a lens coated with sympathy, and for the brave people it uses to tell its story. John is a quotidian warrior who is untainted by his problematic situation, although his face portrays a stark demeanor, there’s a smiling face reflected on the glass in front of him. That internal desire to be happy cannot be shattered.
"Glassland" opens today in Los Angeles at the Laemmle Music Hall and in NYC at Cinema Village. The film is also available on VOD.
Note: Review originally published during the 2015 Sundance Film Festival where "Glassland" premiered...
- 2/12/2016
- by Carlos Aguilar
- Sydney's Buzz
There’s no doubt that Irish actor Jack Reynor deserves recognition for his role in Glassland, a modern-day kitchen sink drama set in a south Dublin social housing suburb. He won the World Cinema Dramatic Special Jury Award at the Sundance Film Festival for his portrayal of John, a poor Irish lad trapped by the demands of caring for his severely alcoholic mother. To that end, the latest from filmmaker Gerard Barrett functions better as a career stepping stone for the 23-year-old up-and-comer, rather than as a worthwhile examination of addiction and poverty.
A long opening sequence shows John living what deceptively looks like an average early 20-something male existence, working a low-wage job as a cabbie and slumming it in a dreary flat with a sink perpetually full of dirty dishes. The image shatters, however, when he returns home to find his mother, Jean (Toni Collette), passed out in...
A long opening sequence shows John living what deceptively looks like an average early 20-something male existence, working a low-wage job as a cabbie and slumming it in a dreary flat with a sink perpetually full of dirty dishes. The image shatters, however, when he returns home to find his mother, Jean (Toni Collette), passed out in...
- 2/12/2016
- by Amanda Waltz
- The Film Stage
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