Under achievers go large in comedy triple threat

For the first time in a very long time I watched three movies back to back - comedies, to be precise. There are so precious few really funny comedies out there that discovering truly humourous fare is something to be shared and celebrated. 

Adam McKay first collaborated with Will Ferrell on the deservedly legendary “Anchorman”, and “The Other Guys” is the best work that McKay and Ferrell have done since. Ferrell stars with Mark Wahlberg – who displays some good comic timing - as the titular “other guys”, policemen who excel at paperwork and minor crimes while their more flashy colleagues, here embodied by Samuel L. Jackson and Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson, get the girls and media attention. Unexpectedly there’s an opportunity for the “other guys” to step up and become super cops themselves, and the result is an entertaining action comedy with some great action and comedy scenes that veer from the predictably humourous to the completely surprising. The opening set piece in particular is spectacular and fittingly exaggerated.

Chris Morris’s “Four Lions” is delightfully transgressive political comedy filmmaking. Starring Riz Ahmend, Adeel Akhtar and Will Adamsdale as a group of friends living in England, the film covers their attempts to become suicide bombers. These attempts include a short-lived stint at an al-Qaeda training camp and flying explosive packages. In between these scenes there are others that play out as if in a thriller, and the ending is unexpectedly emotional. As “Four Lions” pushes the envelope of controversy, the satire cuts to the bone in many scenes, such as those that toy with Western perceptions of suicide bombers. It was in the 1990s that MAD Magazine published comic strips set in terrorist training camps (“If Ahmed has three hand grenades and one accidentally explodes in his hand, how many grenades are left?”) that would become unthinkable after 9/11. A decade after that world flattening event, “Four Lions” is the first film in general release to employ perceptions of ‘terrorists’ in such farcical form. The result is alternately hilarious, moving and generally jaw-dropping.

Nothing prepared me for the genius of Armando Iannucci. Known in the UK for some television work, Iannucci’s “In the Loop” is a brilliant political satire that is also the best-written comedy I’ve seen in a long time, and is probably the best comedy I’ll see all year. The satire is sophisticated and incredibly fast. “In the Loop” lampoons and convincingly demonstrates the constructive or destructive (depending on where you stand on certain issues) role of spin in contemporary politics as political bedfellows America and Britain become involved in a war of words and possibly an actual war due to an ill-informed statement made by the British Secretary of State for International Development Simon Foster (Tom Hollander). It’s left to politics veteran and misanthropic Malcolm Tucker (Peter Capaldi) to spin the situation towards a positive outcome as things get increasingly complicated when, for example, confidential information is mistakenly made public and secret committees are formed. 

The dialogue is profanity laden and colourful; Tucker ends a phone call with a particularly memorable sign-off, while he describes Foster as a “Nazi Julie Andrews” when the latter comes up with the inspirational phrase, “climb the mountain of conflict”. Indeed, it is Tucker who sets the tone when he opens the movie with “Good morning, my little chicks and cocks”, and so kick starts a top class comedy that was sadly, but not  surprisingly, never theatrically released in South Africa. It is available in all good DVD stores, ready to kill the souls of those who flock to Adam Sandler movies. 

Seconds

Much like director Duncan Jones’s debut “Moon” (2009), his second film “Source Code” is, for better and for worse, a rather low budget and old-fashioned science-fiction story. In the opening scenes of “Source Code”, Colter (Jake Gyllenhaal) wakes up on a train en route to Chicago. Across from him sits a complete stranger, Christina (Michelle Monaghan), who calls him Steven and speaks to him as if they’ve known each other for some time. Colter tries to make sense of it all; he is a soldier and supposed to be in Afghanistan, so what is he doing on the train? 

Someone spills a drink on his shoes. The conductor punches his card. Minutes later, there’s a powerful explosion and the train goes up in flames. Everyone dies, but Colter wakes up in a crude-looking pod of some kind. There’s a video screen, which is how Goodwin (Vera Farmiga) communicates with him and tells him that it is his mission to find out who blew up the train and why. Colter has to keep going back to the event, into the “source code”, until he finds the answers. One of the characters, Dr Rutledge (Jeffrey Wright), refers to what Colter’s doing as time re-assignment, not time travel. I’m not sure what the difference is, especially considering how the movie ends. For that matter, the ending goes much too far in what it’s trying to accomplish. 

In its rather short running time, the movie addresses a lot: fate and predestination; life purpose; sacrifice. In helping these themes to manifest, Gyllenhaal is solid and Farmiga is sublime – note how striking she appears the first time we see Goodwin on the video screen. Monaghan has a bit of a thankless part, trying to convince us that a man might be convinced to fall in love with her based on very little. You know that when someone starts alluding to “finding themselves” there may not be much of a future for the two of you. Monaghan looks adorable, I suppose, and she does what she can. 

With its brevity, fast pace and compelling story that altogether constitute considerable entertainment value, the film is never more than popcorn entertainment, and it’s not the type of film you return to for repeat viewings. A major problem is the one-dimensional villain. The movie goes to such trouble to almost explain everything that happens I had to wonder why there was no meat to the villain. And would the film have really been poorer without the obligatory romantic subplot?

The stains won't come out

“What can I say? I’m at war against women. They have no foresight, there is nothing about them that’s stable, there is nothing to trust. They’re dangerous.” 

Image: www.horrorhappyhour.com

“Possession” (1982) dared me to watch it. It vomited in my face, it taunted me with its phalli. 

I persevered.
I had to finish it.
“Art horror”? Like hell.

“Possession” is one of the worst films I have ever seen, and I’ve seen many things, from Michael Dudikoff’s “American Ninja” movies to innumerable cheap horrors that never get theatrical releases. But this… this is cinema at its most pointlessly pretentious. It gave me an eye infection. 

(Spoiler warning - not that you should care in this instance.)

Directed by Polish filmmaker Andrzej Zulawski, “Possession” is about the relationship between a married couple in early 1980s Berlin. Mark (Sam Neill, professional dinosaur rampage survivor) and Anna (the beautiful Isabelle Adjani) are experiencing escalating marital strife. She’s apparently having an affair, and he breaks chairs (until the chefs take him down). Sometimes they take time out to wonder, “what about Bob?” Bob is their young son, and damn it, he needs his parents. But Anna is indeed getting it on with a kama sutra-martial arts expert and quoter of lines, while Mark meets one of Bob’s teachers who looks just like Anna. 

Anna moves out of the apartment, leaving Bob alone with increasingly paranoid Mark, but then he has reason to be paranoid, because his wife now has her own place which may or may not be inhabited by a monster straight from her damaged psyche. Yes: in one scene, Anna goes mad for around five minutes, and then gives birth to Faith conceptually and literally.  

One of the so-called ‘video nasties’ of the 1980s, “Possession” has always been on my cinematic periphery and when I saw it in the DVD store the other day, it called out to me. It's somewhat cult, somewhat acclaimed - Adjani had won the best actress award at Cannes for this in 1982 – half her dialogue is screamed, and as a result unintelligible – and Zulawski is apparently a rediscovered master filmmaker who has been obscure until recently. Obscure? Don’t get me started. There’s a lot of context in terms of how Zulawski meant for the film to comment on human conflict and paranoia, but the film’s a mess. 

"Possession" is difficult to watch not because it’s disturbing, but because of its ineptitude. People cut themselves with electric knives, vomit, get eaten by a Freud Bug; they talk, they scream, you could care less. I rarely say this, but this is a film to avoid at all costs, morbid curiosity be damned. 

Woerwoer

Paul Eilers’ “Roepman”, an Afrikaans drama adapted from the book by Jan van Tonder, is as polished and well crafted a South African film as one is likely to see. The camerawork is outstanding, the editing fluid. “Roepman” has been called the best Afrikaans film yet; we’re talking about over a century’s worth of movie output, so it’s quite a claim. It’s certainly one of the best Afrikaans movies ever released, and it’s certainly better than “Paljas”. Scratch that; despite its flaws, which I’ll get to, “Roepman” is one of the best South African films yet, and stands shoulder to shoulder with the Oscar-winning “Tsotsi”. Eilers’ film comfortably shifts from the sentimental and the humourous to the political and the downright shocking. 

“Roepman” recreates a key period from South African history, and places its characters against a backdrop of political conservatism and preservation. “Roepman” excels at evoking time and place. It is 1966. Timus (Paul Loots) is the youngest child of a large Durban-based Afrikaans family, which includes two sisters and an older brother. Like many white Afrikaans men of the time, his father works in the rail industry, and his mother stays home. There is a black woman who helps to keep the house neat and clean. Timus is somewhat fascinated by Joon (John-Henry Opperman), the titular character, who is a “call man” employed to make sure that rail workers wake up in time to get to work on time. 

To Timus, Joon is a great young man who has saved Timus’ life on occasion. Timus is growing up – there’s some foregrounding about the loss of innocence – and his siblings have their own stories: brother Braam (Eddie de Jager) may or may not be in love with the girl next door, while his sisters (Beate Olwagen and Desire Gardner) have boyfriend and independence issues. Father (Deon Lotz) keeps a firm hand on the family, with mother (Rike Sennett) as mediator between the patriarch and his children. Lida Botha co-stars in the archetypal wise old woman role as the grandmother. 

The film opens with Timus running through the train yard in tears, and the film builds up to that moment for most of its running time. One senses the coming of something ominous early on, and I’m not just talking about the black-and-white photograph of Verwoerd keeping a watchful eye on whatever happens in the living room. There are dodgy characters, such as the grease ball boyfriend (Altus Theart) of Braam’s potential love interest and the gang of young men who spend their time walking around town, reading Playboy and being assholes. It is their leader, Hein (Andrew Thompson), who tells Timus that he’ll be a man only when he “pisses foam”.

As a family drama, “Roepman” is stellar. The story is gripping and, as I said earlier, the film is very well made. It is aware of the politics of the time, and effectively uses it to outline key events in the characters’ lives. When it ends, the film refuses easy answers in favour of emphasising the loss of innocence once more.

If so much of “Roepman” works, what holds it back from greatness? I’ll do my best to steer clear from spoilers.

(1) It is clear that Hein is going to be some sort of villain in the movie. This is an important character filled with insecurity and with a certain pathological element, but the character is totally flat. There’s nothing to Hein, and it doesn’t help that he wears black - if memory serves – in every single scene he appears in. I would also suggest that the role was miscast, but let’s leave it at that.

(2) Despite solid acting from Lotz, the conservative Afrikaner father leans towards caricature. Here “Paljas” actually has the edge; Marius Weyers’s Afrikaner father had a little dimension.

(3) The film is good at developing a sense of dread, and it handles the eventual payoff with great success. However, these darkly dramatic scenes are contrasted with scenes so whimsical that it requires considerable suspension of disbelief.

(4) The film oversells Joon as messianic figure, especially in a shot of a statue of Christ on the cross that has particular significance for the film’s later developments. Like the black-clad Hein, this too seems spelled out.

(5) The “all you need to do is believe” mantra is thin. While certain characters can get away with it when it is appropriate to the plot and emotional payoff, I’m not so sure you could, for example, tell the family’s live-in maid to “just believe and it will happen” with Verwoerd frowning at you. And considering what happens to a major character just before this message is overtly promoted for the last time, it rings rather hollow.

A final word. Director Eilers has a small appearance as the local minister, and in two minutes shows why he’s considered to be such an incredible actor.

In brief: Russian fantasy and Belgian social realism

A world cinema double team today: one Russian fantasy epic and one award-winning Belgian drama. Both movies are about grown-ups who, in different ways, behave like children. 

Image: www.geekcouch.com

Nikolai Lebedev’s “Wolfhound” (2007) (full title: “Wolfhound of the Clan of the Grey Hounds”) takes its cue from “Conan” to deliver a quick paced swords & sandals movie that could’ve done with a little more swords and a little less hokey magic. Wolfhound loses his parents at a young age. A cruel duke enslaves the orphaned boy until the time comes for the boy, now a young man (Aleksandr Bukharov) with a few bouts under his belt, to avenge his parents’ death. His personal battle becomes intertwined with the destinies of other characters until the very fate of the world as Wolfhound knows it is at stake. 

Contemporary Russian cinema is quite the blockbusting machine, opening its gates to Western markets witn Timur Bekmambetov’s “Night Watch” movies a few years ago. “Wolfhound” didn’t find the same global audience but anyone looking for lightweight fantasy and a hero who frowns and grunts a lot should look in. The film clocks in at nearly two and a half hours. Once you get past the initial vengeance-driven attack and the CGI arterial spray, “Wolfhound” is a jolly adventure.

“The Child” is a 2005 Cannes darling from critic favourites the Dardenne brothers, who started out in documentary filmmaking and took their aesthetic of distance to narrative features only much later. Over the past fifteen years, they have become some of the most renowned figures in contemporary Belgian cinema. “The Child” opens with young mother Sonia (Deborah Francois) looking for the baby’s father, a man called Bruno (Jeremie Renier), with the newborn in her arms. She finds him eventually, and we recognise Bruno as one of life’s losers, an apparent dimwit who knows just enough about petty crime to just get by. Bruno has an ear for economic opportunity, and pays attention when someone mentions to him that certain people are willing to pay substantial amounts of money for a child. 

The rest of the film deals with the repercussions of Bruno’s decisions as the film seems to challenge our expectations of how rational people are supposed to react to major events in their lives. “The Child” isn’t a particularly heavy film (compared, for example, to Lukas Moodysson’s “Lilya-4-Ever”) but Bruno’s journey is gripping in its certainty that there will not be a happy ending. I should mention that there’s not a note of music on the film’s soundtrack, and its absence reminded me so much of the soul-killing leitmotif in Bahrani's “Man Push Cart”, another strong film about the survival of the destitute, that I was quite relieved to be spared a “Bruno’s Theme”. The lack of music enhances the impression of realism that the Dardenne brothers accomplish through long takes and a lack of indulgent close-ups.

I was with the film until the very last scene, which I did not buy into based on what had preceded it, but “The Child” remains a gripping character study of someone without any sort of inner compass.