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jameselwin
Reviews
The Man from Mo'Wax (2016)
Fascinating, slick and brutally honest.
The Man from Mo' Wax is a fascinating depiction of the explosive rise and fall of maverick founder of Mo' Wax Records, James Lavelle. The documentary takes you on a fast paced emotional roller-coaster, through unseen and rare personal footage, of the highs and certainly the lows of the man behind Mo' Wax and UNKLE at odds against a rapidly changing and hostile world. With a surprisingly honest, and at points relatable, human story at its heart; this film is brazen and slick with an absolutely killer soundtrack.
The execution of the documentary is commendable. In the main, the film is skilfully constructed from a treasure trove of unearthed, self-documented footage derived from Lavelle himself and many of his friends and collaborators. The raw footage spanning decades is sophisticatedly intertwined with contemporary and retrospective interviews; additional exposition is smartly incorporated or in keeping with Lavelle's recurrent science-fiction theme. A particularly enjoyable aesthetic choice was the decision to have the cuts between stills dictated to the exceptional soundtrack, it gave the film personality and at times worked well to mirror the chaotic pace of Lavelle, Mo' Wax and indeed the music industry.
Following Lavelle's prosperous and naive beginnings, you really get sense of the scale of what Lavelle was achieving and at such young age. However, director Mathew Jones spends surprisingly little time on Lavelle's time at the top and focuses predominantly on the encroaching cracks appearing in several of Lavelle's relationships and his worsening position within a difficult and changing industry. Lavelle has the rug pulled from under him and refuses to move on from it, burning through years, relationships and gargantuan amounts of money trying to recreate it; but does he ultimately learn from it? The comment that is never really answered to, made by producer Antony Genn, that unmovably sticks in the mind is, "you don't have to be Sigmund Freud to work out that it might be you (Lavelle) that is the problem". It doesn't really come across that Lavelle has learnt or changed from his experience but has just simply moved on to his next opportunity and endeavour, tempting history to repeat itself.
The Man from Mo' Wax is an extremely engaging and polished documentary around a truly fascinating and driven visionary, working decades ahead of his time. It features an exemplary soundtrack and would be a sure-fire hit for any Mo' Wax or UNKLE purist. Regardless, the documentary does well to work with limited knowledge of the subject and remains engrossing throughout. When all is said and done and you strip it down to its bare bones, the film is ultimately a really relatable human story of ingenuity and perseverance.
Killing Thyme (2015)
Perfectly capturing the naivety of youth and the cynicism of old age.
Killing Thyme is a multi-toned exploration into the relationship between two polar opposites, budding horticulturalist, Sam (Joe Reynolds) and the original grumpy old man, Norman (Brian Cox). The film perfectly captures the naivety of youth and the cynicism of old age. With elegant cinematography and an impressive, top-class cast, Killing Thyme is a refined film that takes you on a tour of emotion, complex subject matters and everything in-between.
The opening piece of music is exceedingly catchy and perfectly sets the film up as the quirky and cheeky film, that it appears to be. The use of a noisy, busy soundscape of the hustle and bustle of city juxtaposed against the peaceful, slice of heaven that is allotment proves to be extremely effective and a great addition. Indeed, the way the allotment is often framed has garnered a great deal of thought and purpose; utilising high up wide shots from Sam's balcony, allowing the contrasting concrete-jungle to besiege the vibrant allotment, creating an alluring micro-Garden of Eden.
A significant element of the film's glory is the polished and captivating performances. Joe Reynolds, playing Sam, performs exceedingly well alongside an impressive line-up, showing in moments great versatility between cheeky and naivety. The enthralling Brian Cox does not put a foot wrong embodying, masterfully, the grumpy old man, Norman. Cox makes careful work refraining from delving too deeply into Norman's all-out and depressing death wish, balancing it nicely with subtle moments of comedic replies; an unsurprisingly strong performance. Charlotte Riley is the film's hidden hero, offering a realistic and warm performance as Sam's doting mother, Anna. Relying on such a small cast can be a blessing or a curse, for Killing Thyme, the casting was a certain masterstroke.
The plot of the film in its entirety is a wholesome and sweet story that achieves a lot in way of its emotional range. However, at points it felt the breadcrumbs were laid too thickly regarding Norman's wish to die and came across a bit too nonchalant, where subtlety may have worked more. Moreover, Sam's decision to act upon this, though it led to a brilliantly worked final scene, was quite a difficult decision to accept, especially since we are told and shown Sam to be an intelligent and bright kid; for Sam to take Norman's wish literally arguably surpasses naivety alone. Nonetheless, the film provides a wonderfully worked story brimming with a variance of emotion, that doesn't just go straight down the line but twists and turns. Furthermore, a particular detail that can be admired and appreciated in the story is the symbolism of Norman and his allotment. When we first meet Norman, like his allotment, he has given up, is wasteful and awaits death- when Sam enters his world he brings life and energy back to not only the allotment but back to Norman. Here lies the crux of the film; both characters ultimately gain, learn and grow from one another, Norman has a rejuvenated sense of life and Sam gets a paternal-like figure he, deep down, has always desired.
Killing Thyme is a wonderfully casted and constructed film, that aims to achieve a great deal in a short 23-minute period. It impressively shines as a technical triumph, with well-thought-out style and makes that which is difficult look effortless. At its heart it has a pure and warming story of an unlikely friendship.
The Girl in the Dress (2015)
A beautifully quirky film that leaves you wanting more.
The Girl in the Dress is a quintessentially, performance-led, British romantic comedy, that has its roots and identity firmly planted within the history of British comedy films. The film's strength lies in its absurdly farcical yet subtle, and at times sensitive, script. The casting is a masterstroke, with a star-studded line up headed by the irrational, frantic and relatable Emily (Olivia Poulet) and the bewildered and charming living statue, Rob (Nick Helm). A strikingly quirky and original story, written and directed by Natalie Malla, the film centres itself around the curious and comical things we do for love and the unlikely relationships we can make along the way.
The film opens with a lovely sequence of gradual and obstructed close-up shots of what appear to be a 'cold-footed bride' having second thoughts, establishing from the outset what the titular dress is, apparently, alluding to. Indeed, the cinematography plays a moderately, and importantly, backseat role in the film. It is only the opening fast paced cuts of an apparent escaped bride and a brilliantly executed cat-and-mouse sequence of Emily scurrying between the pews of a church, that is the only real and noticeable departure from a practical and no-frills approach to filming. The importance of this, along with the use of a recognisable locale, is fundamental in the construction of a believable and palatable platform for the perfectly crafted script and the amusing, performance-led narrative to take place, and indeed excel.
At many points the music sets the pace and dictates the tone of the film, however, it is the captivating performances by Olivia Poulet and Nick Helm, executing Malla's lively script, that is the real driving force behind the film. Helm's first line sets the comedic tone and intent up immediately, as he awkwardly, and in a very British manner, politely asks Emily to move her despair and crying onto a different bench. Poulet as the lead shines as she strikes the perfect balance between distressed, blissfully unhinged and regretful, whilst keeping it light and ludicrous. Malla's conception of the contrasting leads is a real gem. The idea that the neurotic and frenzied Emily on a day of despair comes into contact with the controlled, literally static and emotionally rational Rob, is one of many instances of skilled and comedic writing throughout the film.
The Girl in the Dress does exactly what you want from a British romantic comedy film. It contains a concise and well worked premise encompassed in brilliantly crafted script, that has a hilarious and relatable performance-led narrative and all done with flowing and assisting cinematography. This beautifully quirky film ultimately leaves you wanting more.
Hawk (2011)
Breathtaking, ambitious and bold.
Hawk is an extremely ambitious fantasy film that at its heart has a simple and recognisable story of the internal struggle of good versus bad, told on a grand, epic and audacious scale. The technical elements of this film are a real triumph, with the cinematography and score taking at points precedence over the transparency of the bold but convoluted plot. Set in the mesmerising mountains of Snowdonia and encompassing rarely featured Welsh language and locale, this film offers a bold and original take on the fantasy genre and achieves an admirable and commendable final product.
Immediately the viewer can appreciate the cinematography. The film opens with a striking wide shot of adult Rowan (Robert Gwyn Davin), set against a bleak and enraged Snowdonia horizon, as aerial shots of the majestic Snowdonia mountain range perfectly set the fantastical scene. With limited dialogue throughout, the challenge is set for director of photography, Martin Hill, to guide you on this journey, which, along with Stuart Hancock's score, is expertly navigated and are both a real highlight of the film. The original classical score from start to finish is intensely scintillating and is easily a one of the strongest components of the film that imbeds itself into your unconscious long after the film has finished.
Where the cinematography, location and score leave you wanting more, a particularly difficult aspect to navigate was the conceivably intentionally-illusive plot. Though of course ambiguity is at this fantasy films heart, it felt at points that it left the audience with too much work to do and at times felt like crucial plot points were omitted or not emphasised on enough. Furthermore, much of the film anchors itself between the relationship between the well-delivered performance of Gawain (Philip Madoc) and young Rowan (Steffan Thomas). However, at points this relationship was difficult to invest in and get behind, resulting in depleted levels of character empathy and insight that were, specifically in Rowan's case, needed later in the film. That being said, many elements of the story really stood out and persisted. Rowan's internal battle between good and bad was plain to see and was well delivered by Robert Gwyn Davin in the final third of the film. The theme of taking only what you need from the land and treating nature with respect resonated particularly well and some nine years after its release, and is arguably more imperative and relevant now, than it ever was.
Undeniably, to deliver a mythic, fantasy film is no easy feat but to deliver one that is original, daring and restricted to a short film and independent budget is an almighty task. Hawk is as close to the finished article as you will find. One can only commend director M. J. McMahon for his ambition for the scale and size of this project, and through captivating cinematography, an astonishing score and a highly original and ambitious plot, Hawk achieves a great deal.
Gin & Dry (2010)
Superbly negotiates the fine line between bitter and sweet.
Gin and Dry is a sophisticatedly delivered short film that contains a well-balanced and layered narrative. The film depicts an accurate and relatable representation of an ageing generation with nothing to lose. The film bares all the hallmarks of a classic comedic caper, whilst simultaneously can be read to ask fairly profound questions including society's treatment of the elderly and, ultimately, death and its handling. The film superbly negotiates the fine line between bitter and sweet, and with a running time of just over 15 minutes the film packs quite an emotional punch.
Set in the sparsely festive-decorated residential home of Twin Willows, the film centres on the likeable and unassuming Albie (David de Keyser) alongside an ensemble of colourful pensioners who carry out an audacious heist for the rationed Christmas alcohol. The film undoubtedly nods back, if not only shares similarities, to one of the great Ealing comedies, Alexander Mackendrick's 1949 film Whisky Galore!. Mackendrick's film follows a similarly comedic caper around the shortage, discovery and retention of alcohol; in their youth, the residents of the Twin Willows retirement home could have fitted in nicely with rebellious characters of Whisky Galore!.
David de Keyser's performance of Albie is a real standout and is critical in providing not only a straight face for the comic relief to bounce off but also to offer thoughtful and heartfelt moments. Albie comes across as maintaining a 'tortoise and the hare' approach to life. This is highlighted in the brilliantly shot, with fast paced close-ups of a speeding wheelchair, 'hallway chase' scene in which slow and steady, very much so, won the race. Indeed, from the outset the film's stylistic and technical elements can be admired, as it begins as it means to go on with a delightful extreme close-up shot of ice clinking and fizzing in a glass. As the film progresses so too does the variety of shots and stylistic choices for comedic, ambiguous and sentimental effect. The use of crash zooms during the discovery of board games instead of alcohol works well in a comedic sense as well as to keep the tempo of film going. Throughout the film the use of focus, and lack of, is used astutely, particularly for when Albie interacts with his wife Dee (June Watson). The camera would often lose Dee in a blurred out focus, brilliantly laying the breadcrumbs for the, certainly heart breaking, final scene. At this point, a special mention has to be made to the use of Billie Holiday's I'll Be Seeing You throughout the film, playing a very reflective role of the crux of the film; not least in the final scene where the piece of music becomes empty, hollow and echoing, making for moving and poignant viewing.
Thematically, Gin and Dry raises the question of how society treats the elderly. A regular criticism is the restrictive treatment of the elderly, limiting their choices, often undermining their ability and impeding on their freedom; Albie even makes a point of the fact that many of his generation, including himself, fought for our liberty in the Second World War. The narrative unfolds to oppose such restrictions and make the audience consider how we treat an older generation; to who we owe so much. A further point can be raised of the purpose the alcohol serves. It is apparent in Albie's case it is used as a form of medication to deal with a recent agonising loss, a common theme and occurrence during the twilight years, in which memories are re-lived and profound, difficult and often painful questions must be confronted.
Gin and Dry negotiates the pitfalls of a solitary location effortlessly, implementing a dynamic, fresh and compelling style onto the film. The film provides great moments of humour that make for entertaining and easy watching, whilst simultaneously delivering engaging and thought provoking issues in a truly well-rounded short film.