kevin_newdirections
Joined Mar 2016
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It is quite remarkable that back in 1997, Judi Dench earned her first Academy Award nomination as Queen Victoria in the British drama Mrs. Brown. Twenty years later, her career comes full circle as she reprises the role in Stephen Frears' Victoria & Abdul. Focusing on her twilight years, the queen has grown to be a self-confessed cantankerous and dispirited woman - a narcoleptic who struggles to stay awake during an honorary lunch. It is a role that's surprisingly stripped of vanity and to think that Dench will give something less (after having played the role before), her insanity speech towards the end tells that it would be unwise to rule her out in the coming Oscar season.
If strictly taken as a comedy, this film bears a positive message. We witness one of the unlikeliest friendships to go down in history - Queen Victoria and an Indian peasant named Abdul Karim (Ali Fazal) whose sole business in England is to deliver a ceremonial coin as a token of gratitude for her reign. Next thing we know, the Queen has taken a liking to the servant and he quickly gains rank in the household from a servant to her personal munshi(i.e. spiritual adviser). "Everybody I love die and I just went on and on. What is the point of all this?" the queen cries to which Abdul responses with, "Service, your majesty. We are all here for a greater purpose." It is actually quite beautiful to see two worlds colliding, a moment when the audience briefly forgets the concept of imperialism. No race, religion or culture is subordinate to another when it comes to changing one's perspective in life.
However, the problem with having this jaunty theme is that it operates on a subject matter that can never sugarcoat colonization as... adorable. Albeit colonialism is considered to be a relic in the past, its offspring racism remains to be prevalent in the society and others can easily take this film in the context of "whitewashing British imperialism". The Queen's bond with Abdul may be more of a mother-foster son relationship, but this again is susceptible to misinterpretation. By treating Abdul as the Queen's "exotic pet", what does he gain apart from the great privilege of serving her? Is the special attention enough to make him oblivious to the horrors of British colonialism? The fault lies on the two-dimensionality of Abdul as his motives are not fully-fleshed. Abdul's Indian friend complains that the British empire has done little favors for their country so where does his puzzling devotion for the Queen truly come from? Abdul has always been presented in a cheery perspective but the film never really traces back to his domestic life to justify this disposition.
Lee Hall's script is on the account of Abdul's journal found only in 2010 and it will be a stretch to paint the whole story with that source material alone. The film acknowledges its limits as the opening disclaimer confesses, "based on true events.. mostly." Viewers are expected to take everything with a grain of salt. When the film starts to show that it can't even get its facts straight - the Queen's secretary blurts out, "But mangoes only grow in India!" (Uhm mangoes grow in most tropical countries too!), the authenticity is further reduced. I am inclined to believe that more elements of this film might be fictional than what I expected to.
Victoria & Abdul is worth seeing for its impeccable costume and production design, its leads' endearing chemistry and Frears' delicate directorial touch. It aims to be poignant yet refreshing as it is more invested in laying out the dynamics of imperial households than tackling more serious topics on hand. Perhaps the film works best if treated as a satirical revisionist period piece, otherwise it just settles for a crowd-pleaser that gives the perception that colonialism is oh-so-charming when in reality, it is anything but.
If strictly taken as a comedy, this film bears a positive message. We witness one of the unlikeliest friendships to go down in history - Queen Victoria and an Indian peasant named Abdul Karim (Ali Fazal) whose sole business in England is to deliver a ceremonial coin as a token of gratitude for her reign. Next thing we know, the Queen has taken a liking to the servant and he quickly gains rank in the household from a servant to her personal munshi(i.e. spiritual adviser). "Everybody I love die and I just went on and on. What is the point of all this?" the queen cries to which Abdul responses with, "Service, your majesty. We are all here for a greater purpose." It is actually quite beautiful to see two worlds colliding, a moment when the audience briefly forgets the concept of imperialism. No race, religion or culture is subordinate to another when it comes to changing one's perspective in life.
However, the problem with having this jaunty theme is that it operates on a subject matter that can never sugarcoat colonization as... adorable. Albeit colonialism is considered to be a relic in the past, its offspring racism remains to be prevalent in the society and others can easily take this film in the context of "whitewashing British imperialism". The Queen's bond with Abdul may be more of a mother-foster son relationship, but this again is susceptible to misinterpretation. By treating Abdul as the Queen's "exotic pet", what does he gain apart from the great privilege of serving her? Is the special attention enough to make him oblivious to the horrors of British colonialism? The fault lies on the two-dimensionality of Abdul as his motives are not fully-fleshed. Abdul's Indian friend complains that the British empire has done little favors for their country so where does his puzzling devotion for the Queen truly come from? Abdul has always been presented in a cheery perspective but the film never really traces back to his domestic life to justify this disposition.
Lee Hall's script is on the account of Abdul's journal found only in 2010 and it will be a stretch to paint the whole story with that source material alone. The film acknowledges its limits as the opening disclaimer confesses, "based on true events.. mostly." Viewers are expected to take everything with a grain of salt. When the film starts to show that it can't even get its facts straight - the Queen's secretary blurts out, "But mangoes only grow in India!" (Uhm mangoes grow in most tropical countries too!), the authenticity is further reduced. I am inclined to believe that more elements of this film might be fictional than what I expected to.
Victoria & Abdul is worth seeing for its impeccable costume and production design, its leads' endearing chemistry and Frears' delicate directorial touch. It aims to be poignant yet refreshing as it is more invested in laying out the dynamics of imperial households than tackling more serious topics on hand. Perhaps the film works best if treated as a satirical revisionist period piece, otherwise it just settles for a crowd-pleaser that gives the perception that colonialism is oh-so-charming when in reality, it is anything but.
A cowboy pub falling silent upon the entrance of a stranger, dueling gunslingers amid the tune of plucked banjo strings, and horses galloping across desolate deserts and mountains – there is a certain sense of gratification brought by Western films. One of the few Westerns this year is Antoine Fuqua's The Magnificent Seven, a remake of John Sturges' film of the same name, which in turn is a remake of Akira Kurosawa's Seven Samurai. The plot and formula is as vintage as it gets: it hearkens back to the dark history of western colonialism where pillaging, stealing and killing is at its peak. Corrupt industrialist Bartholomew Bogue (Peter Sarsgaard) along with his immigrant crew lays siege to the mining town of Rose Creek, and slaughters any local who attempt to stand up against him. "I seek righteousness
but I'll take revenge," a vindictive Emma Cullen (Haley Bennett) asks for the help of warrant officer Sam Chisolm (Denzel Washington) and together, they assemble a ragtag band of outlaws and transform their folks of farmers into fighters.
Seven should not receive any complaints from the "racial diversity council" (if there's such a thing) as minorities here are well-represented reminding Donald Trump that America was once founded upon immigrant spirit. Chisolm as the Seven's leader is a man of color and the rest is a rainbow coalition: pyromaniac/"world's greatest lover" Josh Faraday (Chris Pratt), sharpshooter cleverly named as Goodnight Robicheaux (Ethan Hawke), grisly tracker Jack Horne (Vincent D'Onofrio), knife-wielding Korean Billy Rocks (Byung-hun Lee), Mexican outlaw Vasquez (Manuel Garcia-Rulfo), and a Comanche warrior who calls himself Red Harvest (Martin Sensmeier). In favor of the big action sequences, the film does a grocery-shopping style of recruitment that character motivations are not properly fleshed out. Most characters get the shorter end of the stick when it comes to development that they remained to be an archetype all throughout: The Guy Who's Good at Knives, The Guy Who's Good at Bow and Arrow, The Mexican Guy, The Bear Who Wears Human Clothes, and so on. The film never really went deep on the psyche of these men – why did they decide to risk their lives over some random town, along with others which they may or may not get along with? The sense of brotherhood does not sell much as well in the rare scenes where they get to talk as a team. Hence, when the film needs to create a sense of loss in the end, there's little impression left.
Much of the character development went to Pratt's character and the actor who employs card tricks at one point, has a contemporary brand of humor to belong in the Western genre. This is basically Star Lord wearing a vest and a revolver. Still, he remains to be the most likable character in the film (though not as close as his role in The Guardians of the Galaxy). In his third collaboration with Fuqua after Training Day and The Equalizer, Washington donning an all-black suit and a bolero hat while sitting on his midnight steed has a commanding screen presence more fitting for this genre. His performance occasionally veers to dull nobility but when his twist is revealed, the character is given a new depth.
Fuqua does not need the trick of quick cuts and shaky cams (see every Jason Bourne movie made), to showcase firepower in broad daylight. Farraday remarks at one point, "I've always wanted to blow something up." This is perhaps Fuqua's directive vision in Seven – it is lock-and-loaded with impressive artillery to ratchet up on the exhibitionist and unceremonious kills done in an uncanny precision. This should make Rambo curl up in a corner. When it comes to its explosive finale, the irony befalls – the noble seven fights for the town's ownership but with all the bombing, stabbing, bow-and-arrow- ing and bullet-spraying done, half of it is reduced to flaming wood chips, there's practically nothing left. This over-extended gunfight can numb the senses and occasionally lose one's geographic bearings, but it is still extremely entertaining.
Expect no glorious road to redemption here like in Django Unchained, clichés are also abound, but Fuqua knows how to stage his crowd-pleasing action scenes, The film is highly aware on what it aspires to be – a wild western ride. By the end of the film, a voice-over declares the following sentiment with such grandeur and pride: "They were magnificent." Yeah, no. Frankly, this film does not live up to its name but entertaining, fun, or modest would be the more faithful representation to it.
Seven should not receive any complaints from the "racial diversity council" (if there's such a thing) as minorities here are well-represented reminding Donald Trump that America was once founded upon immigrant spirit. Chisolm as the Seven's leader is a man of color and the rest is a rainbow coalition: pyromaniac/"world's greatest lover" Josh Faraday (Chris Pratt), sharpshooter cleverly named as Goodnight Robicheaux (Ethan Hawke), grisly tracker Jack Horne (Vincent D'Onofrio), knife-wielding Korean Billy Rocks (Byung-hun Lee), Mexican outlaw Vasquez (Manuel Garcia-Rulfo), and a Comanche warrior who calls himself Red Harvest (Martin Sensmeier). In favor of the big action sequences, the film does a grocery-shopping style of recruitment that character motivations are not properly fleshed out. Most characters get the shorter end of the stick when it comes to development that they remained to be an archetype all throughout: The Guy Who's Good at Knives, The Guy Who's Good at Bow and Arrow, The Mexican Guy, The Bear Who Wears Human Clothes, and so on. The film never really went deep on the psyche of these men – why did they decide to risk their lives over some random town, along with others which they may or may not get along with? The sense of brotherhood does not sell much as well in the rare scenes where they get to talk as a team. Hence, when the film needs to create a sense of loss in the end, there's little impression left.
Much of the character development went to Pratt's character and the actor who employs card tricks at one point, has a contemporary brand of humor to belong in the Western genre. This is basically Star Lord wearing a vest and a revolver. Still, he remains to be the most likable character in the film (though not as close as his role in The Guardians of the Galaxy). In his third collaboration with Fuqua after Training Day and The Equalizer, Washington donning an all-black suit and a bolero hat while sitting on his midnight steed has a commanding screen presence more fitting for this genre. His performance occasionally veers to dull nobility but when his twist is revealed, the character is given a new depth.
Fuqua does not need the trick of quick cuts and shaky cams (see every Jason Bourne movie made), to showcase firepower in broad daylight. Farraday remarks at one point, "I've always wanted to blow something up." This is perhaps Fuqua's directive vision in Seven – it is lock-and-loaded with impressive artillery to ratchet up on the exhibitionist and unceremonious kills done in an uncanny precision. This should make Rambo curl up in a corner. When it comes to its explosive finale, the irony befalls – the noble seven fights for the town's ownership but with all the bombing, stabbing, bow-and-arrow- ing and bullet-spraying done, half of it is reduced to flaming wood chips, there's practically nothing left. This over-extended gunfight can numb the senses and occasionally lose one's geographic bearings, but it is still extremely entertaining.
Expect no glorious road to redemption here like in Django Unchained, clichés are also abound, but Fuqua knows how to stage his crowd-pleasing action scenes, The film is highly aware on what it aspires to be – a wild western ride. By the end of the film, a voice-over declares the following sentiment with such grandeur and pride: "They were magnificent." Yeah, no. Frankly, this film does not live up to its name but entertaining, fun, or modest would be the more faithful representation to it.
Suly opens with Captain Chesley "Sully" Sullenberger (Tom Hanks) having a PTSD-induced, 9/11- reminiscent vision of a plane crashing into a Manhattan skyscraper. This is the "what-if" scenario that haunts the titular hero after successfully landing the engine-blown Flight 1549 on the chilly Hudson River, and miraculously saving all 155 souls onboard. As he snaps back into reality, we will soon learn that the "untold story" lies on the aftermath of the averted tragedy. The National Transportation Safety Board (NTSB) starts to investigate and finds results that does not jibe with Sully's estimation: the left engine is still operational and he could have landed the plane on the nearest airport instead of risking passengers' lives with a forced water-landing. "Over 40 years in the air, but in the end I'm going to be judged on 208 seconds," Sully laments and sadly, he's right. Has there been a lapse of judgment on his part? Or could this be NTSB's attempt to use him as a scapegoat against the future lawsuits that will be filed? Director Clint Eastwood may put you into the mind of Sully, yet you won't be able to conclude beyond a shadow of a doubt.
Eastwood turns this feature film into an introspective character study narrated in a contemporary fashion. He feeds his viewers with seamlessly-integrated, piecemeal flashbacks that takes us to the events on that fateful afternoon. He does not take the route of presenting a straightforward inspirational tale but he's more interested on a bigger issue here – man's internal turmoil to redeem himself. As we witnessed in his previous works like American Sniper, this is where he shines best. Still, he remains simple as a filmmaker. The restrained execution of plane crash may not please fans of extravagant tent-pole films but the wave impact brought by the musical scoring and sound editing is impressively realistic and accurate.
Hanks shines as well in this yet again perfectly-tailored role – a brave, diligent and sturdy ordinary American hero facing against insurmountable odds. It's already a cliché thing to say that Tom Hanks is a brilliant actor but what I like about his performance is that it does not scream of: "Look at me! I'm a great actor! Give me an Oscar!" He can be minimal in his acting – during an intense bird-engine collision scene, he stoically yells "Birds." and still, he sells a nuanced depth into the character. The same can be said to the underrated Aaron Eckhart as co-pilot Jeff Skiles, the funny guy who mocks the things that Sully is often too nice to say. He earns the film's final laugh.
Whereas Hanks has weathered rougher storms in his previous travel-disaster films like Apollo 13, Cast Away and Captain Phillips, Sully, however, offers less dramatic weight. We already know by now that everything will turn out fine in the flashbacks so the suspense gets to be partially ruled out. It can also be a bit underwhelming that the closest thing you'll have here for antagonists are the suspicious bureaucrats (Mike O'Malley, Anna Gunn, and Jamey Sheridan) armed with computer simulations that should put Sully's career and pension at risk. The depiction of investigation somehow appears to be exaggerated for the sake of adding tension. The straw villains here will probably have more social relevance when they are viewed as Eastwood's take on modern cynicism: that even the noblest of men can still be subjected to harsh scrutiny.
Just when Sully is on the verge of becoming a saccharine adulation to its hero, Sully gives credit where credit is due, "I don't feel like a hero. I'm just a man doing his job." He's right. This is not only the story of a man saving 155 souls but this is the story of a whole community coming together in the midst of tragedy – his co-pilot, the passengers, the flight attendants, the radio operator, the ferry boat captain, the coast guards and even the bit- players, no matter how thinly-sketched as they may be. Eastwood may not succeed in offering much meat for those who are expecting of a shocking conspiracy, but the fact that he's been able to effectively deliver the human element from a 208-second incident in such a short run- time is praise-worthy enough.
Full review: http://www.filmpolicereviews.com/reviews/sully
Eastwood turns this feature film into an introspective character study narrated in a contemporary fashion. He feeds his viewers with seamlessly-integrated, piecemeal flashbacks that takes us to the events on that fateful afternoon. He does not take the route of presenting a straightforward inspirational tale but he's more interested on a bigger issue here – man's internal turmoil to redeem himself. As we witnessed in his previous works like American Sniper, this is where he shines best. Still, he remains simple as a filmmaker. The restrained execution of plane crash may not please fans of extravagant tent-pole films but the wave impact brought by the musical scoring and sound editing is impressively realistic and accurate.
Hanks shines as well in this yet again perfectly-tailored role – a brave, diligent and sturdy ordinary American hero facing against insurmountable odds. It's already a cliché thing to say that Tom Hanks is a brilliant actor but what I like about his performance is that it does not scream of: "Look at me! I'm a great actor! Give me an Oscar!" He can be minimal in his acting – during an intense bird-engine collision scene, he stoically yells "Birds." and still, he sells a nuanced depth into the character. The same can be said to the underrated Aaron Eckhart as co-pilot Jeff Skiles, the funny guy who mocks the things that Sully is often too nice to say. He earns the film's final laugh.
Whereas Hanks has weathered rougher storms in his previous travel-disaster films like Apollo 13, Cast Away and Captain Phillips, Sully, however, offers less dramatic weight. We already know by now that everything will turn out fine in the flashbacks so the suspense gets to be partially ruled out. It can also be a bit underwhelming that the closest thing you'll have here for antagonists are the suspicious bureaucrats (Mike O'Malley, Anna Gunn, and Jamey Sheridan) armed with computer simulations that should put Sully's career and pension at risk. The depiction of investigation somehow appears to be exaggerated for the sake of adding tension. The straw villains here will probably have more social relevance when they are viewed as Eastwood's take on modern cynicism: that even the noblest of men can still be subjected to harsh scrutiny.
Just when Sully is on the verge of becoming a saccharine adulation to its hero, Sully gives credit where credit is due, "I don't feel like a hero. I'm just a man doing his job." He's right. This is not only the story of a man saving 155 souls but this is the story of a whole community coming together in the midst of tragedy – his co-pilot, the passengers, the flight attendants, the radio operator, the ferry boat captain, the coast guards and even the bit- players, no matter how thinly-sketched as they may be. Eastwood may not succeed in offering much meat for those who are expecting of a shocking conspiracy, but the fact that he's been able to effectively deliver the human element from a 208-second incident in such a short run- time is praise-worthy enough.
Full review: http://www.filmpolicereviews.com/reviews/sully