MINAMATA (2021)

Minamata is the story of war photographer W. Eugene Smith who travels back to Japan where he documents the devastating effect of mercury poisoning in coastal communities.

Minimata is, quite simply, Johnny Depp in his most restrained role in recent memory. Gone are the overly flamboyant mannerisms and behaviours of Willy Wonka, The Mad Hatter, and Captain Jack Sparrow. Here we are instead treated to another David vs Goliath scenario, with an emotionally reclusive individual taking on a big corporation.

Based on a true story, Depp portrays W. Eugene Smith, a photographer for TIME Magazine, back when they used to do weekly periodicals. An old war-time photographer, still living with the occasional bouts of PTSD and languishing in the decline of investigative journalism, as his reputation and career start to recede into obscurity. Given a final chance to pull back the curtain on the tragedies being caused in the wake of boosting profits, Smith (and metaphorically Depp) head out for one last chance at redemption.

Minimata refers to the Minimata disease, a neurological syndrome caused by severe mercury poisoning, and leads to numbness in the hands and feet, general muscle weakness, loss of peripheral vision, damage to hearing and speech, and in extreme cases, insanity, paralysis, coma, and death. The disease makes up two of Japan's Four Big Pollution Diseases (a group of man-made diseases all caused by environmental pollution due to improper handling of industrial wastes by Japanese corporations.) With a knowingly negligent big corporate, and the solo cameraman ready to expose the big bad to the Western world, Minimata has the ingredients for a tense thriller, but director, Andrew Levitas, holds firm with a dramatic tone that ultimately prevents the film from having a strong an impact as one would want. 

While Depp disappears into the role (and scruffy grey beard) of Smith, fully taking on the complexities of his personality, Smith, unfortunately, lacks any sense of charisma. His own emotional detachment from the scenario is engrained in the audience, and while he may, in the end, do what is right, his journey to that conclusion is not only turbulent and distorted but swings from one extreme to the other with little to no narrative justification. While his emotional detachment is passed on to the audience, his change in consciousness isn't, and it leaves Minimata feeling flat and formulaic, like a child learning to read a book; more focused on how to say the words, than understanding the meaning of the sequence of words.

Combine the uncharismatic lead with the sluggish, dramatic pacing, and Minimata starts to lose its power and suspense; elements that are further corroded by an unnecessary side plot. The film starts to focus more on Smith himself, and his relationship with TIME magazine, rather than emotionally connecting with the tragedy before him. The situation of a corporation causing death and disease through knowingly polluting a waterway is still conveyed in a cohesive enough manner to ensure the audience is filled with frustration, anger, and contempt, towards these corporates that have little vision beyond the bottom line of their profits and loss report, attempting to justify the collateral damage of their business.

Where Minimata excels, is in its cinematography and production design. The recreation of the seaside Japanese town from the 70s is exceptional, and cinematographer Benoît Delhomme continues that detailed work with a rousing mix of handheld and professional tracking shots that create a noticeable juxtaposition. Transitioning between black-and-white (Smith's chosen medium) and colour, Minimata carefully moves between dramatizations (colour) and accurate recreations of past events (black-and-white). The use of handheld also brings greater emphasis to the grassroots community's tireless protesting.

Regrettably, the authenticity of the cinematography and heartbreaking visuals are not enough to make Minimata more than a by-the-numbers biopic. Smith's role is never over-glorified at the expense of the Japanese locals, and sensitivity is shown towards the struggles, ticks, and deformities, but Levitas' focus is too fractured and keeps pulling away the Japanese fight to shed light on the secondary plot thread. This story needed the audience's full attention, and it certainly would have had it, if not for the constant diversions to the TIME Magazine offices. A wasted opportunity, that turns an absolutely heart-wrenching story, into something mediocre.

Minimata is still a film worth checking out. Any reminder that corporations don't care about people, is a good reminder. but while the film's visuals may haunt you during the credits, Depp's unremarkable performance makes the memory of the film fade quickly.

Minamata is in cinemas from June 3, 2021

Originally posted to: https://djin.nz/Kr8849

A QUIET PLACE: PART II (2021)

The Abbott family must now face the terrors of the outside world as they fight for survival in silence. Forced to venture into the unknown, they realize that the creatures that hunt by sound are not the only threats that lurk beyond the sand path.

It's hard to believe that I have been waiting for over a year for A Quiet Place: Part II to be released. There is always a concern when film releases are delayed, that the content may feel dated, especially when it comes to a sequel. Belay those concerns, and flock back to the cinemas, because A Quiet Place: Part II is everything that it needed to be, and is an example of a sequel done right.

It would have been easy to expect a shift, not unlike Scott Ridley's Alien, where the first film acts as horror and then manages a switch into the action thriller genre for the sequel. With weakness in the creature now revealed, Hollywood would generally beg for a more mainstream sequel with Americans obliterating waves after waves of creatures, but Krasinski has managed to maintain creative control and sustained the slow, quiet, tense setting of its predecessor.

A challenge to be sure, but Krasinski has managed to recreate a similar atmosphere to his original film, expanding the scope of the franchise, while preventing the scale of the film from becoming overly burdensome. When the film threatens to accelerate, there is a switch in the opposite direction maintaining a manageable pace that allows time for set-ups and resolutions, with moments to reflect, mourn, and generally feel.  

The film provides both a prequel and sequel in one; answering the question of where the creatures originated from prior to the title screen, before carrying on from where the first A Quiet Place left us. With father figure John Krasinski no longer present, the headstrong masculine void is filled by Cillian Murphy (a newcomer to the franchise, but known for his acting presence in the similarly post-apocalyptic flick, 28 Days Later). A brilliant choice in casting, he fills an emptiness well, without taking the spotlight from our core lead, Millicent Simmonds. 

Simmonds' acting has matured significantly since the first film and places her front and centre for the majority of the film. A spectacular performance, that is emotionally hard-hitting and genuine. Emily Blunt still manages to have all of the "Ripley" fem-kicking-alien-ass scenes, all from the sidelines.

The musical compositions are largely lacking, as would be expected. For the most part, you can expect near-silence, and expect an uncomfortable time trying to consume any form of food or drink in the cinema. The silence leads to more than a few jump-scares, but most enhance and move the narrative forward so it doesn't become frustrating to view.

Outside of the pacing and centralizing around Simonds, the saving grace that makes A Quiet Place: Part II succeed is the level of mystery around the new addition, Cillian Murphy, and other characters. The absolute lack of information about the new faces acts as both misdirection and red herrings. With only a clear primary objective for one character in the film, the narrative possibilities for every other character leave so many options open that it is difficult to predict the direction that the film will take, forcing the audience to simply focus on every action as it happens.

To successfully make the audience actively watch a sequel film, from start to finish, is an accomplishment, and it all stems from the humility of the feature. It never tries to be bigger than it is. It focuses on sound and uses low-angle cinematography focused on the feet to emphasize the journey and conflict, while simultaneously narrowing the field of vision, obstructing the field of view to add tension and suspense.

Well-composed, well-written, and spectacularly acted. You'll pick holes in the plot afterwards, for sure, but during the screening, you'll be paying full attention. Guaranteed.

A Quiet Place: Part II is in cinemas from May 27, 2021

WHITSTABLE PEARL (2021)

With her son grown, single mum Pearl (Kerry Godliman, After Life) pursues her lifelong dream and starts a private detective agency, which she runs from her family restaurant in the coastal town of Whitstable. Drawn by her caring nature, locals soon flock to her with all kinds of cases. But when a friend dies suspiciously, Pearl finds herself in conflict with gruff new cop in town DCI Mike McGuire.

If there is one genre of television that has withstood the test of time, it is the crime/mystery niche. From Sherlock Holmes to CSI, the gradual solving of a puzzle (with deadly consequences) has always been a safe bet to appeal to inquisitive minds, even more so when there is an opportunity for the audience to come to their own conclusions.

On the surface, the six-part series of Whitstable Pearl appears to be a very simplistic attempt at the genre; our lead primarily runs a restaurant, not a detective agency, and it never truly gives the impression that there are any significant stakes at play. Nevertheless, there is a subtlety to the clues and adequate red herrings to make these mysteries quite appealing. 

Despite each episode starting off with a murder, Whitstable Pearl never has the pacing and tension that comes from an outright procedural crime show. With no real sense of time passing and curiously apathetic characters, Whitstable Pearl's comfortable restaurant location, and warm local personalities create a very comfortable and inviting atmosphere, somewhat unique to the mystery genre. Our lead Pearl (played by Kerri Godliman) is motherly but naive, and quick to jump to conclusions based on gossip, rumours, and "personal experience". The show's main police presence is in the form of Mike McGuire (played by Howard Charles) and his temperament is monotonous, melancholic, and unconcerned, despite his legal authority and position in this quaint village. 

It's this quizzical combination of unusual lead characters that helps to keep things fresh. The show plays with the conflicting styles of the big city and small towns, it fights against gentrification and the unequal distribution of wealth and looks at the pros and cons of human interactions over clinical investigations. There is a sense of disbelief that the characters are put in these situations in the first place, but if you can suspend that disbelief, there are some fun times to be had.

The appeal of Whitstable Pearl's mystery-solving is not in its clues but in its character development and suspect list. In this small town, there is a limited pool of potential suspects, and many recurring characters have some peculiar unexplained behaviours and mannerisms. While the case may be solved by the end of each episode, not all of these behaviours are explained, and carry on to the next episodes, adding misdirection and red herrings along the way, gradually building intrigue and curiosity in an otherwise adequate series.

There are layers of complication and intricacies involved, but everything feels simple and easy to understand. It's the magic of Whitstable Pearl; it may not have you on the edge of your seat, but it will have you constantly analysing your suspect list while you sit cuddled up on the couch with a hot drink.

Episodes 1 & 2 premiere on Acorn TV from May 24, 2021 

Originally posted to: https://djin.nz/Kr8852

NO MAN'S LAND (2021)

When a vigilante border patrol turns fatal, a man flees on horseback to Mexico, seeking forgiveness from the victim's father.

With the political landscape of the US in recent years and the fact that nearly 75 million people voted for Trump in 2020 belies the unwieldy fact that a large proportion of the population may agree with his sentiments that all Mexicans, that "They’re bringing drugs. They’re bringing crime. They’re rapists.". The kind of sentiments that breed hate towards other people, and give Americans in an unfortunate situation someone else that they can place all of their blame on. No job? Blame it on the Mexicans. No chicken nuggets available at McDonalds? Blame it on the Mexicans. The anger and hostility that occurs between the two sides of the border are largely one-sided, but it has a clear effect on both sides.

No Man's Land is an effort to bring an understanding to each side. An appeal to look beyond the black-and-white labels of thugs and gun-toting cowboys and realize that all people are widely varied with different statuses, religions, and priorities. For the most part, No Man's Land achieves what it is trying to do, but it lets itself down in the small details, uneven narrative, and getting itself bogged down in the usual tropes of white saviour and thug stereotypes.

After an altercation, Jackson (Jake Allyn) finds himself fleeing from America in search of forgiveness, being tracked concurrently by a Texas Ranger (George Lopez), and a drug runner. On the other side is Gustavo (Jorge A. Jimenez) who is searching for revenge. Through Jackson and Gustavo, No Man's Land runs two different conflicting narratives; one is drama-based with the aim of learning empathy towards another country's people, whilst the other is a thriller-based cat-and-mouse chase in a modern Western environment. Where the film is at its strongest is during Jake Allyn's teachable moments; they are quiet, introspective, and intimate. Moments that don't work as well as they should because of the cat-and-mouse element. Likewise, the thrilling chase elements are less impactful due to the constant time-outs for the intimate moments that step so far away from the chase that all sense of tension is lost. 

For a film that wants to show the Mexicans in a better light, the repeated use of an over-the-top gun-toting shaved hairstyle drug runner, it's peculiar, to say the least. As far as the people that end up dying compared to those that survive, well, it's also firmly one-sided. Every single person that Jake comes across in his adventures is the nicest person in existence, that gives without wanting, and it creates another black-and-white stereotype when the film should be focused on highlighting the shades of grey.

The fact that it spends nearly two hours teaching our white lead empathy, slowly learning to value the lives of Mexicans through small, slow, and subtle interactions is brilliant. It is simply a pity that it doesn't allow the same treatment for our Mexican lead, who is invariably demoted to a small bit part in a story that revolves around him. Jimenez does a brilliant job bringing the emotions to the screen, and it is a wasted opportunity that he isn't provided with an adequate arc equivalent to that of Allyn's character.

Had the story disregarded the Texas Ranger's involvement after the first twenty minutes, No Man's Land could have been explored without the need for unnecessary changes in tension, or constant location changes. With all of the extra characters needed, and the thriller set pieces in place, it leaves the story with more than its fair share of ham-fisted clunky dialogue to try and ensure that its point has been put across; sometimes words are not needed.

Whilst the message is clumsily provided with clunk dialogue and unnecessary tropes, No Man's Land does an adequate job of raising awareness. By no means perfect, but it is suitable enough to be an enjoyable viewing experience. George Lopez and Frank Grillo are good but have very small roles in the film, The film still reeks of white privilege and bias, but there is enough going both ways to be able to recognize the vestiges of humanity in nearly every character; enough to make the audience question it's own intolerances at least. And that's all you can really ask for.

No Man's Land is in cinemas from May 27, 2021

Originally posted to: https://djin.nz/Kr8850

THE ARTIST'S WIFE (2019)

Claire Smythson, the wife of the renowned abstract artist Richard Smythson, is plunged into a late-life crisis when her husband is diagnosed with Alzheimer's disease and is in danger of not completing the paintings for his final show.

There is something undoubtedly familiar about The Artist's Wife. No doubt that familiarity comes from a parallel story to that of 2017's The Wife. Both revolve around the wife of an artistic man who either now or has always struggled to create said art, providing the wife with unnamed and unrecognized ownership of the art, due to past suppression from the artistic patriarchy. 

Both films provide an opportunity for the truth to come to light, and boost their own creative careers, but at the expense of their partner's reputation. It is a strong emotional play that works very well in The Wife to form a conflict that requires sacrifice no matter the outcome. The Artist's Wife, on the other hand, has a sense of intrigue but is less interested in the emotional conflict, rather focusing on our lead recapturing her youth through fraternization and binge drinking.

There are a number of directions that The Artist's Wife could have taken, one of which being to tackle the illness of Alzheimer's itself, the disease that the husband of our lead is afflicted with. With a suitable development of their early relationship and how things have degenerated and fallen apart as the disease progresses, there could have been a strong emotional bond and sense of empathy towards the wife. This was not the case, however. 

As his sophomore feature, director and co-writer Tom Dolby could be forgiven for his lack of strong direction. Nevertheless, plays with the concepts of oppression, guilt, betrayal, redemption, and loyalty without developing any of them properly, leaving the narrative direction to be decided by the cinematography, which--despite its script content decrying oppression of the patriarchy, is infatuated with exploring how good Lena Olin look at the age of 64.

At its heart, The Artist's Wife is about Claire (Lena Olin) and her path towards independence after a lifetime of servitude and support of her artistic husband, Richard (Bruce Dern). With a recent diagnosis of Alzheimer's, Dern's performance of a man--angry and lashing at the gaps in his own memory--is well-composed and effective at eliciting a response from the audience. The frustration, helplessness, and near derision from Claire in response to Richard's narcissistic spite and cruel behaviour works well to help endear us to Olin's character, but the real impact of those scenes is lost due to a lack of context. 

The only real development or setup that is provided of the time "before", comes in the form of an interview "snippet", which provides very little information or emotional clarity. Without a firm grasp of Claire and Richard's relationship before, Richard's previous artistic talent and productivity, or his ability to positively guide and mould new artists, or his love and affection towards his wife, without an initial section to make comparisons from, there is no true path of decline, and it prevents a scene from garnering the impact that it could have otherwise held.

The Artist's Wife never properly develops its struggles. There is no sense of the magnitude of any stakes, and every sense of conflict is swiftly disregarded. There is no building of tension. No return to discuss past actions. Simply a wife that has to make a decision on whether to sacrifice her own potential career or her husband's reputation, on effectively a coinflip, as there are no narrative connections that explain her eventual decision.

The performances from Dern and Olin are well done, but the script and direction of the film leave a lot to be desired. The pacing and gradual build of events will hold your interest until the final act, but a satisfactory conclusion may not be on the cards.

The Artist's Wife is in cinemas from May 20, 2021

Originally posted to: https://djin.nz/Kr8847

SPIRAL (2021)

 

Working in the shadow of his father, Detective Ezekiel "Zeke" Banks and his rookie partner take charge of an investigation into grisly murders that are eerily reminiscent of the city's gruesome past. Unwittingly entrapped in a deepening mystery, Zeke finds himself at the center of the killer's morbid game.

Being introduced to the Saw franchise at around the Saw II mark during my early teens, and loving the building drama network of damaged characters and excessive gore of every subsequent film afterwards, there is no doubt that the premise and ingenuity behind the franchise had great appeal. Despite its middling to poor reviews on Rotten Tomatoes and Metacritic, John Kramer has without a shadow of a doubt left his mark on the horror community as the fifth-highest-grossing horror franchise in the US and Canada. It is why I was saddened when the franchise was cut short after the seventh film, Saw 3D, why I was overjoyed at the reboot seven years later, and why I was curious to see what Chris Rock would do with the series a further 4 years on.

In terms of the gore factor, Spiral fails to meet the mark. While there are more than a few horrendously gory scenes involving bulky mechanical contraptions, the editing from Dev Singh leaves a lot to be desired. Constant quick cuts attempt to create a sense of rising panic and a ticking clock but instead leave the audience unable to properly evaluate the threat. The sense of tension and unease that comes from languishing in the hopelessness of the situation before the crunch is what sells the whole sequence, but whether it be the editing or Josh Stolberg and Peter Goldfinger's script, every violent scene feels skipped over (and some of them literally are). 

Don't get me wrong, there are some visuals that will make you squirm, but they are so few and far between, that it starts to feel more like an episode of True Detective rather than a member of the Saw family.

Aside from the gore, there is the story element; the mystery of who the killer is, how he is catching his victims, and how they all connect together... there is more depth in a toddler's swimming pool. Spiral is another example of treating the audience like children and walking them through everything. single. clue. multiple. times. There is no sense of mystery. It takes little thought to figure it out in the first 30 minutes, and then you have another hour of the film repeating itself as it tries to get every single person in the theatre to figure it out before the reveal. It's backwards and it reeks of a script that should have had a few more revisions. 

Ignoring all of that, the biggest failure of the film is in its choice of protagonist. Chris Rock (irritating voice aside) plays an oxymoronic detective whose entire personality sheet is somehow concurrently made up of "clean cop" and "always breaks the rules". Worst of all, throughout the entire film, he is a passive character. That is to say, he is led to every single destination, and every decision is made for him, for the entire 90+ minute run-time. He makes no real choices, and nothing he does has any effect on the storyline. We aren't watching Chris Rock in a film. We are watching Chris Rock watch a film. And that grows weary reasonably quickly.

From a cinematography standpoint, the film has some amazing high-definition clarity, but it comes at the expense of having a lot of unfocused blur work to compare it to. This is not a film that you would want to see in IMAX, VMAX, Xtreme Screen or Titan XL unless you really want to leave the theatre with a migraine. The blur is more than frequent, and with the number of quick edits and movements, it becomes quite the overload on such a large screen. On a normal theatre screening, however, this would be ideal. The set design, costuming, and lighting work really well to bring a slightly dated look to the film; not quite The Blues Brother era, but on that crossover between the last guard and modern policery, allowing for a mix of old school muscle cars with modern technology.

Everything effectively cancels itself out, which is why expectations need to be lowered prior to viewing. The thrilling opening sequence sets a standard that the film never manages to hit again. The gory scenes get sidelined for a basic revenge plot that is over-explained and then goes on too long past its use. The impact of the blood and violence is lost by the quick cuts and fast pace. It all culminates in a final act that leaves you unsatisfied. 

There was potential, and still could be potential for success if the twist is properly catered for in its inevitable sequel. We need non-descript clues that we miss because of the gore and the tense scenes. We need protagonists who are actively hunting and investigating these murders in their own right. And, by golly, we need to see every excruciatingly depraved and explicit detail.

In the end, I'm not angry at you, Spiral. 

I'm just disappointed.

Spiral is in cinemas from May 13, 2021