AMMONITE (2020)

 

Acclaimed paleontologist Mary Anning works alone selling common fossils to tourists to support her ailing mother, but a chance job offer changes her life when a visitor hires her to care for his wife.

Every once in a while Hollywood churns out a film that feels familiar. Sometimes it may simply be a more "Western" remake such as the Liam Neeson-led Cold Pursuit remake of the Norwegian In Order of Disappearance, or Will Ferrell's Downhill remake of the Swedish flick, Force Majeure. Other times though, there are simply so many similarities that one cannot help but assume the film must have been heavily (HEAVILY) influenced by another. 

In this case, one cannot watch Ammonite, without seeing element after element being borrowed from the widely critically acclaimed French film, Portrait of a Lady on Fire. 

And yet, Ammonite is nothing like Portrait of Lady on Fire, because the latter was a wondrous piece of film that built an organic sense of passion and longing with a solid narrative, whereas the former is awkward, forced, and tasteless, meandering without purpose. 

It was evident that the film was written and directed by a man; written and directed by Francis Lee, Ammonite is the story of Mary Anning, a world-famous fossil collector, dealer, and palaeontologist, who was not able to fully participate in the scientific community because of her gender and religion, despite her discoveries contributing to changes in scientific thinking about prehistoric life and the history of the Earth. Except that isn't what Ammonite focuses on. Ammonite takes an important but previously unrecognized woman from history and creates fanfic; introducing a historically inaccurate lesbian romance plot.

This lesbian romance is not part of the film, it is the entire focus of the film, with Anning's entire life's work being reduced to a mere plot device to introduce a lover. It's incredibly disrespectful, and worse, poorly executed. 

Where Portrait of a Lady on Fire implies some form of sexual activity and focuses on creating tension from the characters being apart, Francis Lee has his characters transition from touching hands to oral sex in mere minutes and then lingers on the act, centre of the frame for several minutes more. Are the details of how these two women pleasure each other necessary to know, in such graphic detail with close-ups and multiple extensive scenes? This reviewer thinks not. 

The cinematography from Stéphane Fontaine is awkward (even if you ignore the softcore pornographic scenes), choosing to zoom in and focus on the peculiar details, such as the back of the character's heads. The colour palette is drab and flat, and while it works to show the squalor that Anning lives in, it is not indicative of the prospering of a romantic relationship. 

There is no symbolism, there is no subtext, and the scene transitions are audibly obtrusive, frequently using loud abrasive sounds after a quiet scene, in what can only be assumed as a means of keeping the audience awake. 

It's honestly quite surprising that Lee was able to get Saoirse Ronan and Kate Winslet involved, with the script giving neither actress much to work with; you could sum up the actresses as "pretty" and "socially inept" and that is as far as their character developments ever really go. 

An off-the-cuff conversation is thrown in towards the end about a past love, miscarriage is used as a plot device and then forgotten, and a gentleman caller is introduced and forgotten, these are the extent of character development attempts. 

Without any clear directive, the narrative for Ammonite is incredibly slow and sluggish and absolutely massacres the pacing of the film in the second and third acts (if such delineations actually exist in the script). The audience may garner a chuckle at the idea of watching Kate Winslet drawing someone in an almost playful throwback to her role in Titanic, but any mirth will be long gone by the time the film comes to an end. 

The culmination of every thread leads to a dissatisfying conclusion from all fronts, and one can't help but feel disappointed that they have dragged Mary Anning's name into this film. If Lee wanted to make his own Portrait of a Lady on Fire with more visible nooky, that's fine, simply make up a character. Don't put Mary Anning's life on display and market a fake lesbian tryst as the most interesting thing that she has accomplished. 

Ammonite is crude and does a disservice to someone who has already been hard done by history. With much of the story fabricated, one would have hoped that they would have at least made it enjoyable to watch, alas, the performances are wooden, their actions unjustified, and their dialogue leaves a lot to be desired. Watch Portrait of a Lady on Fire instead, I beg you.

Ammonite is in cinemas from February 11, 2021

Originally posted to: https://djin.nz/Kr8789

HIGH GROUND (2020)

Set against the stunning landscapes of 1930s Arnhem Land, High Ground chronicles young Aboriginal man Gutjuk, who in a bid to save the last of his family teams up with ex-soldier Travis to track down Baywara - the most dangerous warrior in the Territory, who is also his uncle. As Travis and Gutjuk journey through the outback, they begin to earn each other's trust, but when the truths of Travis' past actions are suddenly revealed, it is he who becomes the hunted. 

Representation of the Aboriginal communities of Australia has been lacking in cinema. When you watch the trailer, you can't help but wonder whether this film is a documentary, or based on a true story. High Ground is entirely fictional, though it's conflict is certainly based on racism that certainly existed. Not dissimilar from the white and black divisions in South Africa, and the United States, High Ground shines a light on the superiority that British colonists had over those of darker skin. 

The premise is simple and one that we have seen many times before; that concept of revenge, an eye for an eye, and breaking a vicious cycle. It's the same elements that are present in every racial film in existence, and they still create a strong emotional impact. Director Stephen Johnson does a brilliant job of establishing who the antagonists and "villains" of the story are, as well as highlighting the protagonist and the difficult situation that he now sits in. 

While the opening act does run at a significantly faster pace than the rest of the film, it sets things up well enough in a short amount of time, allowing greater time and focus to be placed on our Aboriginal protagonist, Gutyuk, portrayed by Jacob Junior Nayinggul.

If the main lead, Simon Baker, comes across as a familiar face, you may recognize him from his seven-year role as Patrick Jane in The Mentalist. Baker still has that unfathomable level of charisma even when his face is beaten by the hot Australian sun and covered with an unruly beard, and it is this charisma that keeps the audience engaged in this film that is full of otherwise underdeveloped and unlikeable characters. 

Many of the characters can have their personalities whittled down to singular words; angry, ignorant, racist, and it speaks volumes of the one-dimensional nature of the supporting characters. While effective at separating the good guys from the bad guys, it does little to truly peel back the origins and reasons for their caricature-like personalities.

As with most Australian-funded films, High Ground comes with its fair share of beautiful scenic landscapes and wildlife shots. The cinematography from Andrew Commis is competent with some good use of varying camera height to show different perspectives, but it is more the clarity and colour of the shots that stand out, rather than the style in and of itself. The contrast of the sky blues with the browns of the natural landscapes creates remarkably vivid imagery.

There is an inherent curiosity around creating a level playing field in situations that have been racially heated before. How does one get justice for the murder and persecution of their family without being the cause of the murder and persecution of the other party? Is there a way to forgive and move forward, to take the high ground, as it were?

The film manages to really portray the disdain and abhorrence that many whites felt towards the Indigenous people a century ago. That feeling that the darker one's skin was, the less educated, the less worthy, the less human that person became. 

It feels dirty, and it feels wrong, but you can't help but see the parallels between these Aboriginal families' fight to live in peace in Australia, and the Black Lives Matter movement or New Zealand's own conflicts between the "Western" populations and the Maori and Pacific Island populations. While the conflict is not as direct in the modern-day examples, that racial factor still remains embedded in various cultures today to a lesser but still significant amount.

High Ground is in cinemas from February 4th, 2020

Originally posted to: https://djin.nz/Kr8791

INTO THE LABYRINTH (2019)

 

A thirteen-year-old who was kidnapped and long-held prisoner, Sam is now suddenly free, traumatized and wounded. She is hospitalized and examined by profiler Dr. green (Dustin Hoffman), who exploring her mind, hunts the monster that kept her locked away all these years.

Into The Labyrinth is a peculiar piece of cinema, and it is specifically designed that way. A feature film adaptation of his own novel, Donato Carrisi clearly holds a great deal of love and understanding of the roles and motivations of his cavalcade of unorthodox characters throughout this psychological thriller. Whether this is a positive or negative attribute, is dependant on the viewer.

Carrisi weaves together two story arcs; one that focuses on interactions and explorations between Dustin Hoffman and Valentina Bellè's characters, and one that follows the more methodical investigation route of Bruno Genko (played by Toni Servillo). 

A curious combination of narrative styles and languages that in itself brings reality itself into question long before the plot device of psychotropic drugs is introduced. A man about to die, a woman under the influence of drugs, and a man with unknown motives; all form a shaky foundation of unreliable narrators that can easily change the direction of the film at the flick of a switch.

Interwoven and connected to keep the audience intrigued while never truly answering any questions until the final act. The film rises and falls on its characters, and it is one of the downsides of adapting your own characters. author, scriptwriter, and director, Donato Carrisi understandably knows the characters inside and out. 

Every piece of their backstory, every event that has shaped the character to create their nuanced or exaggerated personality quirks. Much of this character development is not included in the film, however, characters act a certain way with no context as to why. It is the sort of simple characterization that any other director would put more focus on. Much like how it is unwise to proofread your own essays, an outside eye would be better at highlighting gaps in the characterization.

Despite the lack of context for many of the characters, Carrisi has still put forth enough atypical attributes to make Into The Labyrinth an intriguing watch. The almost supernatural atmosphere of the film, combined with unreliable narrators, misdirection, and a set of reasonably well-executed reveals in the final act, come together in a manner that stops you in your tracks and turns your assumptions on their head.

Dustin Hoffman is indeed in this film, but don't let that affect your expectations of the film, as his role is something outside of his stereotypical roles. The real acting highlight comes from Toni Servillo, who is the only real source of pacing in the film. 

His unconventional yet surprisingly efficient investigation technique is the aspect of the film that keeps a sense of urgency and movement, keeping the film from becoming stale. Despite his portion of the film being spoken in Italian with English subtitles, it remains the portion that really hooks the audience in, in comparison to Dustin Hoffman's exploratory analysis in English.

There is much that could be improved, but Into The Labyrinth is still an above-average crime thriller that leaves you trying to untangle the pieces throughout the film's credits; piecing together the final bits of the puzzle. Carrisi walks that fine line between conventional and unconventional, between natural and supernatural, to keep the audience on their toes until the very end.

Into the Labyrinth is in cinemas from February 4th, 2021

SUPERNOVA (2020)

 

A gay couple -- one a musician, the other a novelist -- embark on a road trip as dementia starts to take hold of one of them.

One cannot help but have high expectations when you get two actors together of high acclaim and accolades. Colin Firth (Academy Award, Golden Globe Award, BAFTA Award, and Screen Actor's Guild Award winner) and Stanley Tucci (Golden Globe Award, Primetime Emmy Award, and Screen Actors Guild Award winner) have a combined film career of over 70 years, and the move away from mainstream Hollywood films toward the more dramatic roles with an LBGT story is more than enough to get pique one's interest. 

And yet, Supernova falls short, lacking any content that will truly challenge the viewer. A superficial perspective that avoids exploring many of the hard questions.

The reality of the situation is that Firth and Tucci couldn't generate the chemistry or charisma necessary to genuinely convince the audience into thinking they were a long-term gay couple. Despite clear efforts to frame the two acting legends as a loving couple through a gentle hand touch, kissing, or nude spooning, the resulting scenes come across as scripted and directed, cold, devoid of emotion. Not dissimilar to a barista smiling at an obnoxious customer, Supernova is full of scenes that are simply going through the motions; the right actions, but a complete lack of passion and emotion.

What makes matters worse, is the film's lack of development in the first act. Writer-Director Harry Macqueen chooses to begin Supernova by starting straight into the fateful road trip with two burnt-out lovers well past the prime of their lives, one of them in the grips of dementia. Yet, the audience is not privy to any comparison points. 

Musical reputations, writing careers, young passion, and overseas adventures are discussed but never seen. We never get to see the men in the throes of passion, We never see our characters living life to the full before dementia started. We don't even get to see the decline happening. Everything has already happened and is simply discussed between the two characters.

The decision to go against the traditional "show, don't tell" concept of visual cinema means all sense of character development (our entire view of these supposed three-dimensional characters) comes from some rather monotonous dialogue. It fails to build a suitable picture of what is lost, or what is still to be lost, which means there are no stakes for the audience to engage in, involving characters that lack the charisma to care about.

Considering the whole script revolves around dementia and our character succumbing to it, one would expect to see some really heartbreaking, anxiety-ridden scenes. And yet Macqueen skeletonizes the effects of the disease (if you can call it that) down to a dropped plate and memory loss. 

The potential to build intense harrowing scenes is there. Dementia can cause disorientation, memory loss, personality changes language problems, and poor spatial awareness, which when you are on a road trip travelling through a largely unknown area, can cause absolute havoc. But that is not what Supernova shows us. We are never shown the true face of dementia. The real frustration and fear as your memory fails you. It is almost beautified, walking arm in arm through the country, buttoning his shirt for him, saying a speech on his behalf, but it all hides the reality, and it reduces the impact of dementia. 

Macqueen's inability to show dementia in real terms restricts the direction of the film considerably. It cuts down the likely directions for the film and turns every "subtle" hint at the likely ending of the film into a telegraphed slap in the face. Every moment that is meant to have a heavy impact, doesn't. 

The audience is able to figure out what will happen long before it happens, and the story becomes a trudge as you wait for the other characters to figure it out as well. Supernova wants to ask the difficult questions; about euthanasia, about whether dementia is worse for the sick person than the carer. Supernova wants to but gets stuck on overused platitudes and thinly veiled metaphors to show us anything worth investing in. 

Without clearly establishing our characters before and after dementia, and by downplaying the effects of the disease themselves, Macqueen has left out the dramatic elements of his drama. Tucci and Firth do their best with what they are given, but the writing itself fails to provide a satisfying viewing experience. 

This is meant to be dementia. This is meant to be a person losing who they truly are. this is meant to be someone being robbed of their very essence. It is meant to hurt to watch it happen, but in the end, Supernova brings on feelings of apathy. It raises interesting questions that it is too afraid to answer, and that is a real shame.

Supernova is in cinemas from February 21, 2021

Originally posted to: https://djin.nz/Kr8794

MUSIC (2021)

 

Zu is a free spirit estranged from her family who suddenly finds herself the sole guardian of her half-sister, Music (Maddie Ziegler), a teenager on the autism spectrum whose whole world order has been beautifully crafted by her late grandmother.

Music has the distinction of being a horrendous film to critically review despite a well-executed production (from a visual standpoint, at least). A film of two halves, Music haphazardly switches between vibrant, aesthetically artistic music videos and a woefully underdeveloped, by-the-numbers, drama. While the two perspectives conflict with each other, the real consternation around the film comes from the role of Maddie Ziegler and her ability to do the role. Because she is able.

By this, I mean Ziegler is an able-bodied person portraying the role of a person with reasonably severe non-verbal autism. The debate rages on as to whether cis-gendered actors can act queer roles, or whether white actors can play minority roles, but the topic of disabilities is not often talked about. 

Much like walking that fence between cultural appropriation and cultural appreciation, the defining traits that determine which side you fall on are the intent and the execution. If the portrayal intends to mock or denigrate the disability, then it will receive the opposite of praise. If the portrayal is well-meaning and educational but poorly executed, then it still will be criticized. No matter how many years of "research" are claimed to have been put into it, poor execution of the narrative or misinformation will lead to a backlash.

And that is exactly where this film lies; in the poorly executed zone. Let it be known, that laying on someone during an autistic episode to physically restrain them, is widely frowned upon and to only be used as a last resort, due to the high risk of death through asphyxia or simply adding trauma to their disability. This form of physical restraint is shown twice in the Music.  

Apart from encouraging potentially deadly restraint practices, Music struggles with defining its intent. At a glance, the film appears to be a wholesome story about how a community comes together to help each other no matter the disability. However, as the film progresses, it becomes increasingly clear that creating a cohesive and engaging narrative about living with autism is the secondary focus; coming in second place (or is it last?) to a barrage of music videos for Sia's upcoming album (also named Music). 

To specifically choose autism as the vessel to sell an album is in extremely poor taste, and is made all the confounding when you take into consideration how exclusionary the film is to much of the autistic community; the music videos themselves are so extreme in their visual stimuli that it would be overwhelming to those that are so sensitive to external stimuli.

Looking past the controversies in casting and disability, the story being told is thin and lacks real development. A combination of moments with little narrative string holding it together, the characters are thinly veiled caricatures that hold no purpose but to inject conflict into the story to emotionally manipulate the audience into caring...at least until the next music video begins. 

Death, HIV, drug dealing, alcoholism and addiction, domestic abuse, Big Pharma...these are only a selection of the topics that are introduced in this short 108-minute-long film to generate conflict, most of which is disregarded after a single scene without resolution. Too much to cover in-depth for such a limited runtime, and leads to a complete lack of consequences and a lack of stakes, resulting in no characters that the audience can empathise with and relate to.

Outside of the opening scenes that set up this loving community and Music's daily routine, the plot of the film has no satisfaction to be had. Kate Hudson puts on a curious performance outside of her usual romantic drama roles, Beto Calvillo is largely unexplained yet delightful, but the actual story being told is more of an afterthought. Everything is present to service the "music videos". 

In this regard, Music stands out. Utilising the unique freestyling dance form that Maddie Ziegler has been performing in Sia's music videos since 2014 when she was 11 years of age (Ziegler was 14 during the filming of Music), Sia executes the musical portion of the film expertly. 

The cinematography from Sebastian Winterø combined with the choreography of Ryan Heffington create gorgeously vibrant and visually engaging set designs and dance routines that are simultaneously chaotic and synchronised, with hues that mirror the emotional depth of the lyrics, and provide a perverse mix of perspectives that are impossible to fully appreciate in one sitting. It is clear where the majority of the resources for this film have been put, with the budget being quadrupled after the script was adapted into a musical.  

Music has two starkly contrasting elements that simply do not marry up. Haphazardly bludgeoned together. As has always been the case with Sia's music videos, the performances are mesmerizing, but outside of the musical environment, Music is lacking in depth and empathy. 

Will people want to pay money to watch a 108-minute-long advert for Sia's upcoming studio album? Warner Music is certainly hoping so. And while ample resources have been put into the production, not enough was put into the script.

Fans of Sia and Ziegler will love this film regardless of its content. The young, non-male, teen demographic is the target audience here. Just keep in mind, that while it is much glossier, this is no less of a cash grab than The Emoji Movie.

Music is in cinemas from January 28, 2021

SUMMERLAND (2020)

 

During World War II, reclusive writer Alice has her sequestered life upended when Frank, an evacuee from the London Blitz, is left in her care. Despite initially resolving to be rid of him, Alice finds herself and her emotions reawakened by him.

You can always trust Icon Film Distribution to do one thing, and that is to always try to select films that have a really good emotional story to them. Whether or not the film succeeds at the box office is subjective, but in general, an Icon film is always going to have a great premise with a strong human element to it; and Summerland is a doozy. 

Seeing as the film is categorized as a war/drama film on Google and IMDb, one could be remiss by not checking out the synopsis or the trailer. It's easy to see the terms war/drama and expect to see something along the lines of 1917, Resistance, Da 5 Bloods, Midway, or Danger Close: The Battle of Long Tan, but this is not so much a film directly impacted by war (with very little interest in acknowledging the events of the war), as it is an element in the background that acts as a plot device to keep certain structures moving, and the film progresses. Romance and Drama are more accurate descriptors in this case.

It is this difference in genre that makes it redundant to point out that Summerland is a female-led film. With both big-name actors Gemma Arterton and Gugu Mbatha-Raw, along with writer/director Jessica Swale, one could easily point out that this is another accomplishment for equality, but this is different. This isn't a story that has traditionally had its roles filled by men; this isn't a gender-bent story. 

This is exactly what movie critics have been wanting, amongst the cries for equality; not the alteration of existing properties to fit a new agenda, but the construction of a story specifically around non-male characters. Any form of sexuality that is brought up in the film goes towards advancing the plot and isn't simply pandering. 

The cinematography by Laurie Rose is gorgeous, with a clear adoration of the English countryside. Wide panning shots of the cliffs of Dover, overhead shots of green fields, and stunning dusky silhouettes all add to the magic that surrounds the search for Summerland. 

The film is conducted in a non-linear fashion, frequently flashing back in time, with a clear shift in colour scheme and saturation; the present day is shot as is, with slow pacing and practical, wide-shot aesthetics of muted tones that do not attract attention, whereas nostalgic memories of the past are displayed in vibrant colours and bright lights, with plenty of music and emotionally engaging close-up shots of our main women.

While it makes a point of separating itself from more direct war films, it does have its moments of peril and is set in a different location, it almost feels like the set of a different film. Not in a thematic sense, but in an aesthetic sense. the budget was clearly considered carefully, to ensure that all impactful scenes are conveyed in a manner that doesn't detract from the personal drama unfolding.

In terms of acting, child actor Lucas Bond puts on an adequate performance. Never irritating, and largely reserved in personality, it allows his now impassioned scenes to really carry a lot of weight. As far as children go, his character is exactly the type of child that would be warranted to warm up the heart of an emotionally-deprived and socially introverted hermit, and their forced cohabitation forms a symbiotic relationship that feels real. 

The film's real focus is on Gemma Arterton's character, Alice, and Arterton does a great job as a misunderstood researcher who has been ostracized to the point of feeling derision towards her peers. As each little chip is removed from her shoulder, she flourishes in her development, and Summerland hooks you in deeper.

Swale's script itself can be a little bit ham-fisted and falls into familiar tropes all too easily, but her direction is surprisingly competent, allowing for some classic misdirection and wonderful surprises further along the film's runtime. 

All of the dots are connected, and Swale really lets some of them sit, ready for an almighty payoff. From a dramatic standpoint, some decisions in the final act are a little overcooked, forcing an ending that doesn't feel as organic as the rest of the film had, nevertheless, there is an emotional weight that carries Summerland and will keep the audience invested until the final minutes. 

Summerland is in cinemas from January 28, 2021

Originally posted to: https://djin.nz/Kr8781

RŪRANGI (2020)

 

Starring, produced, and written by New Zealand’s gender-diverse community, Rūrangi follows transgender activist Caz Davis as he heads home to the isolated, conservative dairy town of Rūrangi - where no one’s heard or seen from Caz since before he transitioned. There he discovers that his former best friend, his estranged father, and his ex-boyfriend are grappling with their own shifting identities and the consequences of Caz’s disappearance ten years ago. 

With the tagline #ByUsAndForUs, Rūrangi is a film made by the LGBTIQ+ community, primarily for the LGBTIQ+ community. In an attempt at proving that the queer community have stories that work well on the big screen, what was originally a five-part web series has now been recut into a single 96-minute feature film. 

Rūrangi is a feature that covers a lot of topics that are generally avoided in mainstream media. From trans individuals "coming out" to their families, to the mental effects of abandonment, gender dysphoria, the shame placed on Māori individuals who cannot speak the Te reo Māori language, and the toxic masculinity that stigmatizes the LGBTIQ+ community and contributes to New Zealand's high youth suicide rates. 

It is a series of topics that should generate intrigue and make the audience reconsider their assumptions and challenge their perceptions. At least it would if Rūrangi looked into any of these elements in any depth. With only a cursory glance at each topic, Rūrangi serves as not an exploration of commonly misunderstood topics, but a mere introduction.

It comes down to the web format that the film existed in prior. A 20-minute length does not allow for proper investigation and exploration of a theme, especially when you have so many themes concurrently occurring. There isn't enough time, beyond the exposition of explaining what is happening, giving the audience very little opportunity to understand the when, why, who, and how in any reasonable depth.

Trying to maintain so many stories with a coherent story, ends up with all of the interesting elements being whittled down to their bare bones and being fragmented to the point of only being referenced 2-3 times in the entire runtime. A very small window of opportunity for organic development and a payoff.

Despite the minimal coverage, Rūrangi remains an eye-opening experience, about a community that the mainstream media have only recently begun acknowledging, and no doubt many within the gender-diverse community will find something that they can relate to. Rūrangi is exceptionally diverse, with only four main characters, they manage to include trans, gay, lesbian, bi-curious, and straight. 

Ignoring the LGBTIQ+ aspect of the film, Rūrangi is a slow-paced feature that is largely lacking in musical compositions. While it plays with deep and dark topics, there is a lack of stakes in the story's narrative, and the drama is short-term and self-inflicted. Our main character Caz (played by Elz Carrad) is stoic, frustrated, and conflicted, but lacks the on-screen charisma necessary to carry the film. 

His performance is outshone by that of Jem (Arlo Green). Jem puts on a truly emotional performance that garners sympathy and empathy at every turn. His willingness to look beyond face value and aesthetics is the redeeming feature of the film and the sole reason why Rūrangi is enjoyable.

Ultimately, Rūrangi is still a web series. The writing lacks the depth necessary to create strong enough character development to engage all audience members, the characterizations are caricatures and stereotypes, with every personality trait being linked to the final act in what was meant to be a satisfying payoff. 

The ending feels like it was written before the remainder of the story, with turning points and character changes feeling forced and inorganic to reach that ending phase no matter the cost. With a lack of development, fragmented storylines, and an unearned final act, Rūrangi leaves a lot to be desired. 

As a starting point for gender diversity in New Zealand film, however, it is a great start. There is nothing overly challenging to the general audience, and Jem's character portrays the anxiety and conflicts that gender diversity conversations raise. It leaves you with more questions than answers, but it normalizes in film, what is normal in the real world. Diverse people.

Rūrangi is in cinemas from February 4th, 2021

THE PEOPLE UPSTAIRS (2020)

 

Ana has invited the upstairs neighbours over. Salva and Laura are slightly younger than them and welcomed them with open arms when they moved into the building, but the constant moaning and groaning coming from their apartment has become a source of arguments for Julio and Ana... perhaps it’s jealousy, they wish their own sex life was as spicy.

The People Upstairs is the lovechild of Cesc Gay. Titled Sentimental in its country of origin, Spain, The People Upstairs is the feature film adaptation of Gay's own play, Los Neighbors Above, with elements of the theatrical presentation remaining. A concise 82 minutes in length, The People Upstairs has all of the flashings of a theatrical experience; a dialogue-driven story, a minimal cast, minimal set locations, and a complete lack of any musical compositions (with the exception of the final closing scene. What is missing, however, is any form of interlude.

Because what Gay has created is an incredibly efficient combination of dialogue between 2-4 characters. Everything serves a purpose, whether to develop unique character traits or build certain emotions in the audience towards a certain character, There is no real extraneous dialogue or filler. With the entire story itself being based on this dialogue, the entire film takes place in one apartment (apart from a couple of establishing shots in the hallway outside) and only has limited types of interactions as there are only four characters present in the entire runtime, from a visual standpoint, The People Upstairs can be monotonous in nature.

Without the variety of different set environments, no new characters being introduced, and the entirety of the dialogue being in Spanish (with English subtitles), the audience is put into the difficult situation of being either completely enraptured by the story or becoming exhausted and weary from the line after line of important subtitles. 

In a film that goes against the technique of "show, don't tell", there is little opportunity for the audience to rest their eyes and passively observe a scene. Constant attention must be given to the subtitles to ensure that important information isn't missed, and when the entire movie is effectively a single extended scene without any scene or chapter breaks, it becomes altogether tiresome.

Outside of the exhausting element of its narrative choices, the story is relatable and the humour rapidly oscillates between dry sarcasm and sexually awkward content. While visually there is nothing sexually adventurous to see, much of the dialogue revolves around discussing expressions of more carnal desires. 

Overall explorations of human connections and the need for effective communication and honesty are on the cards, with Belén Cuesta and Alberto San Juan serving the respective roles of mediator and instigator to Javier Cámara's antagonism. 

The characterization lacks subtlety, beating the audience over the head with its somewhat exaggerated personality traits; another trait that has been borrowed from the theatrical representations of the story. 

That being said, while Javier Cámara's snarky argumentative demeanour is grating and Alberto San Juan's smarmy attempt at charm and seduction leaves a lot to be desired, Belén Cuesta steals the show with her amicability alongside the vulnerabilities that Griselda Siciliani puts on display.

Awkward and complex, The People Upstairs is quite the ride if you are willing to take it.

The Upstairs People is in cinemas from January 14th, 2021