SIX MINUTES TO MIDNIGHT (2020)

Summer 1939. Influential families in Nazi Germany have sent their daughters to a finishing school in an English seaside town to learn the language and be ambassadors for a future looking National Socialist. A teacher there sees what is coming and is trying to raise the alarm. But the authorities believe he is the problem.

It is incredibly difficult to screw up a film with the Nazis involved. At least up until recently, there has never been a more polarizing separation of good and evil, as there has been between the Nazis and whoever happens to oppose them. Human sterilization, experimentation, forced breeding, death camps, and the slaughter of minorities, are all aspects that the world used to unanimously agree were bad things. 

Simply from the sight of a Nazi swastika, the audience knows who the villains are. And yet, here we are, muddying the waters by combining Nazi high command's daughters with an Anglo-German British spy in pre-world War Two times. All of a sudden, the audience is in a position where the characters need to be developed to fully recognize who is good or bad. If only Six Minutes to Midnight had made that effort.

This is one of those stories that is based on something true. Influenced by it. This is a fictional story that uses an unusual set of circumstances and attempts to use that polarizing view to build a successful, dramatic thriller. The story revolves around a finishing school in East Sussex, England, that taught young German girls how to speak English and lady-like etiquette; one of those girls being the daughter of one of Hitler's high command. A potentially scandalous situation in hindsight, but one that clearly never bore fruit, which is why Six Minutes to Midnight is noticeably fictionalized. 

This project is only the third theatrical feature film to come from Andy Goddard, who has been better known for his directorship of television material, and Six Minutes to Midnight carries that television vibe. Despite the presence of cinematographer Chris Seager, who was involved with Watchmen, and The Alienist, this project comes across as decidedly bland, with desaturated colours and uniform lighting.

There are a plethora of pleasing landscape shots, but they have little connection to the story and thus fail to build any emotional investment in the film. Despite his work directing some praise-worthy Marvel television series (Daredevil, The Punisher, Luke Cage), Goddard's directing style fails to create a convincing emotional narrative.

More likely, it is the lack of charisma from Eddie Izzard. His first attempt at scriptwriting, Izzard's Six Minutes to Midnight is noticeably ham-fisted and clunky, with underdeveloped characters chase scenes that employ more physical humour than tension, a cavalcade of movie tropes, and a narrative structure that doesn't flow. Those who have been rewatching Hannibal on Netflix will recognize the face of Abel Gideon, who Izzard portrayed, and be disappointed at the poor character development and lack of authenticity that Izzard has brought to this new role. 

Six Minutes to Midnight makes no attempt to develop any of its central characters. With a large group of girls at this school, only three of them are even given names, let alone arcs, personalities, and opinions. It's this complete disregard for character-building that prevents the film from gaining any momentum. Without any setup around the girls, there is no sense of conflict, nothing for the audience to empathize with, and certainly no stakes worth being concerned about. 

Goddard and Izzard simply assumed having Nazis and World War Two would mean no character development would be needed, and yet they specifically choose characters that walk along both sides of the Anglo-German boundary. Allegiances need to be established. Loves, lusts, and hate need to be on display, but all of these characters are empty; empty of emotion, and empty of individuality.

The final act does start to improve in terms of pacing, but it is too little, too late, and Six Minutes to Midnight ends right when the film starts to get interesting. The dramatic elements lack any of the ingredients to generate tension, the action sequences are sporadic, never gaining momentum, and the final moments of the film come across as forced. It doesn't feel genuine, every action is specific to move the story forward, with little regard for whether it comes across as organic. No time is given for any moments to build character or allow impactful scenes to have an impact. 

A potentially interesting story is wasted on poorly developed characters, with either exaggerated performances or a complete lack of emotion. Six Minutes to Midnight has been years in the making. Perhaps they would have benefited from working on the script for a few more years.

Six Minutes to Midnight is in cinemas from April 22, 2021

Originally posted to: https://djin.nz/Kr8815

COSMIC SIN (2021)

Seven rogue soldiers launch a pre-emptive strike against a newly discovered alien civilization in the hopes of ending an interstellar war before it starts. 

Wow. Just wow. Sometimes when you look at a movie poster you can just tell that the film is going to be incredibly low-budget. That certainly seems to be the case with Cosmic Sin, and yet they have somehow managed to get Frank Grillo and Bruce Willis involved in this perplexing visual experience. You look at Bruce Willis in this astronaut-ish suit and are reminded of the classic film that he also starred in, 1998's Armageddon. The comparison is ill-fated (as is the hilariously accurate title), as neither Frank Grillo (who recently surprised me in Boss Level) nor Bruce Willis could make Cosmic Sin worth sitting through.

One of the biggest things that ruin a film is the amateur move of "telling not showing". When you have a visual medium, "showing" is obviously going to be the most engaging. If a picture is worth a thousand words, Cosmic Sin's 24 frames per second across a 90-minute runtime could be an engaging narrative, and yet everything that we learn is through excessive exposition. The opening scene itself is interrupted by five black screens with text. The audience must read to learn what the technological advances are and must continue reading to learn about why Willis' character is hated. It is lazy writing from both Director/Writer Edward Drake and his co-writer, Corey William Large.

The screenplay is so poorly written that there are only four things that occur on-screen; an inciting incident, the continuation of that incident, a retreat, and a final conflict resolution. All four situations are action scenes that are set up by the overused expositive dialogue that immediately precedes it. the action scenes faring no better, are as exciting and eventful as watching two sets of Star Wars stormtroopers shooting at each other; lots of shots being fired, but nothing of note happening as a consequence.

One cannot help but feel sympathy for the cast, who were given ham-fisted cringe-worthy dialogue, no character development, and a complete lack of action choreography. Looking forward to seeing lots of future technology from the year 2538? I hope you are ready for handguns, flares, and knives!

The special effects were noticeably low-budget, and this also affected the cinematography, with most of the scenes being shot with superfluous red and blue lighting to obscure the backgrounds, and very few wide shots being used, focusing mostly on close-ups with coverage from the forehead to the shoulders. This constant up-close-and-personal viewpoint is unwanted and ends up making Cosmic Sin that much more difficult to watch. 

Michael Bay seems to be the only Director who can make the constant close-ups work in an action scene, cinematographer Brandon Cox simply confuses an already unwieldy science-fiction film, by making its action sequences undecipherable, with a complete lack of geography and blur and slow-motion effects that do nothing beyond stretch out the runtime. What are the people doing? Where are the people? What are their immediate goals? Everything is unknown. Characters appear, disappear, and reappear, without motive, context, or explanation.

B-movies generally know what they are, and they are enjoyable because of the limitations of their budgets. Cosmic Sin takes itself far too seriously despite the script having a complete lack of content. It consistently poorly executes elements that other films have done better; the redemption arc is practically absent, Independence Day speeches fall flat, and the passing of the torch is done without emotional impact.

I love the idea of Frank Grillo and Bruce Willis in space fighting aliens. Much like Pacific Rim and the idea of giant robots fighting giant monsters, it's a hard concept to screw up, and yet Cosmic Sin is exactly what it says it is; a sin at a cosmic scale. With the exception of some reasonably intriguing alien visual character designs, Cosmic Sin was a waste of 90 minutes. 

Watch Armageddon, Aliens, and Independence Day, and leave this monstrosity to disappear into obscurity.

Cosmic Sin is in cinemas from March 11, 2021

Originally posted to: https://djin.nz/Kr8811

BLACKBIRD (2019)

 

Lily and Paul summon their loved ones to their beach house for one final gathering before Lily decides to end her long battle with ALS. The couple plans a loving weekend complete with holiday traditions, but the mood becomes strained when unresolved issues surface between Lily and her daughters Jennifer and Anna.

There is clearly a new topic that Hollywood likes to talk about; euthanasia. This is the second film to be released within a month about ending one's life early due to a terminal illness. Unlike Supernova, which dementia as a vehicle for discussing the topic, Blackbird uses amyotrophic lateral sclerosis (ALS), a progressive neurodegenerative disease that affects nerve cells in the brain and the spinal cord. A disease that slowly weakens muscles until movement and even swallowing is no longer possible. 

Euthanasia has only just recently become something that the mainstream media and general public have a majority deciding the process is ethical. There is still a large number of people who are against it, however, and that is where this film gets its controversial edge. There are many conflicting views (religiously, ethically, and morally) but it is at the stage of indecision where both sides can still promote a genuine debate.

Blackbird comes with an ensemble cast including Sam Neill, Mia Wasikowska, Lindsey Duncan, Kate Winslet, Rainn Wilson, and Susan Sarandon. In almost a political move, Director Roger Michell is unflinching in the view that the film requires a lot of big names to generate enough of an audience. In a manner of speaking, Michell is not wrong, as while Blackbird is thought-provoking, its venture into the darker side of drama is unnerving and surprisingly cold.

The veteran status of many of the actors is clear and shows in their performances. There is no bad acting to be seen; simply awkward situations, awkward characters, and often unlikeable personalities. Nevertheless, these characters come across as real, developed people; flawed people that have their own battles with illness and selfishness. 

With the very simple premise of somebody with a terminal disease wishing to end their life, it leaves a lot of room for dramatic elements around the various family members coming to terms with that idea. In fact, there is so much space for content, that scriptwriter Christian Torpe starts the film at what thematically is at the endpoint, where the family has already come to terms with the premise, and completely breaks it again, muddying the water, before attempting to regain the status quo. 

Susan Sarandon absolutely steals the spotlight with her portrayal of someone suffering from a terminal, incurable disease, someone who is at peace with the idea of choosing the terms of her own death. While I lack the personal experience to judge the performance based on its accuracy to the ALS disease, what is so well executed is the balance of debilitation. 

Walking the line portraying a person who is terminally ill enough in a visual sense; not so badly that the entire audience would immediately agree she needs to be put out of her misery, but also not fit and cheerful enough that one would disagree with her terminal diagnosis. Right in the sweet spot of contention, and her afflictions are inconsistent enough to validate every character's concerns.

What works really well in Blackbird is the grounded nature of the film. There are a number of elements that are used to create conflict in the film but Michell and Torpe don't go overboard. there was potential to bring in several other plot points that were quite strongly alluded to, but no matter what the source of conflict, everything remains centred around its effect on the central premise. 

At no point did the audience get dragged deep into the rabbit hole. Several times, we were treated to a peek inside, but then we were brought back to the main story and how it all relates. Nothing in the film is allowed to take you away from the central discussion of euthanasia and whether someone with a terminal disease has the right to choose when and how they will die. 

From a cinematography standpoint, this is very little to talk about, mostly straightforward wide shots with a few close-ups for emotional scenes, but it's generally nothing fancy; nothing that will take the spotlight away from the various valid perspectives of this dying woman and her family. The music is minimal with many moments in the film simply bathed in complete silence, and emphasizes the experiences of the family. That awkwardness and inability to know how to deal with the scenario. 

All in all, Blackbird is not really here to be enjoyed. This is a vehicle for understanding the concept of voluntarily losing someone prematurely. Letting someone choose to end their life while they are still a positive association in your life; before they become the drain, a burden, a thing that is no longer recognizable as the person they once were. 

Would you let someone die a hero, or have them live long enough to become the villain?

Blackbird is in cinemas from March 4, 2021

Originally posted to: https://djin.nz/Kr8810

COUSINS (2021)

 

The story of Mata, raised by a cruel guardian who keeps her from her family, Makareta, the reluctant princess of her tribe, and Missy, overlooked but in the end the glue that holds them together. Three cousins, once thrown together and as women grown apart, ultimately sharing a connection that can never be broken.

Cousins is potentially one of the most heart-breaking Kiwi films to be released since 2019's Bellbird. Based on the 1992 novel by Patricia Grace, Cousins touches on a collection of difficulties and oppressions that Māori women have historically suffered, through the interactions with the European-descended Pākehā, and within their own Māori cultures and iwi.

This is the story of Mata, a Māori woman who is homeless, practically non-verbal, and repeats the same routine every day as she roams the streets of Wellington alone. The story is almost entirely through sequences of flashbacks of three cousins as they follow three very different paths; one taken from their family home, one that voluntarily leaves, and one that stays behind. Cousins offers a look into Māori traditions and upbringing, as well as the use of laws to remove Māori children from their parents. 

Invariably, the ability to choose is the factor that separates Mata from her two cousins, Makareta and Missy. While they have two completely separate paths, Makareta and Missy make the decision that determines the direction of their adult lives. Mata, on the other hand, has her experiences shaped by those who believe they know best, and the consequences of those interventions on her mental development are difficult to watch.

Cousins is an enlightened rebuttal to those who believe that racism no longer exists within New Zealand or that the Māori people do not still need or deserve support and assistance. One cannot put a price on the damage that has been done to the Māori people as a result of New Zealand's colonization. And while many may overcome the difficulties to live in peace, and some may thrive despite the obstacles thrown in their way, it can't be forgotten that there are many that have been irreparably broken.

The Mata we meet in the opening scenes is mentally challenged. Not because of a genetic defect, but because of the effects of being torn from her family, taught to hate her own culture, and bullied anyway. Left with the emotional maturity and understanding of a child, no matter her age. There is an intensely emotional journey to be had, following the young jubilant girl as she deteriorates into the Mata that we see in adulthood. 

Throughout the 98-minute runtime, the sense of family is what stands out. Despite having different parents, and only being together for a short time, the sense of family transcends parenthood and is a sense of pride and protection across all of the Māori people.

In a world of division and isolation, Cousins is a reminder of the value of togetherness and family. 

Cousins is in cinemas from March 4, 2021