Tell No One (2006)

☆ ☆ ☆

Tell No One (2006) – G. Canet

French thriller (based on a novel by American Harlan Coben) that is exciting and perplexing, throwing the lead character, a paediatrician (François Cluzet) off the deep end when the police re-open the investigation into the murder of his wife eight years later.  Suddenly, he is a suspect despite having been knocked unconscious during the attack that killed his wife.  As the police net tightens, he goes on the run, seeking to figure out who the real killers are -- although viewers could well suspect that he is hiding something himself, as the filmmakers only drip feed facts and clues to the audience.  Without spoiling things (as there are so many twists and turns, it is hard to keep them straight), let’s just say he comes to believe that his wife is still alive.  Of course, this is Hitchcock territory and it is easy to identify with the poor doctor swept along by events out of his control – and to feel suspense due to the many unknowns in the story (and many suspicious characters).  However, director Guillaume Canet never lets us forget that there is a romance at the heart of the film (even if it may have been betrayed).  Films with twists often include at least one long scene where a character explains it all and Tell No One is no different – in that way, it is a bit formulaic/generic.  But this is mainstream filmmaking designed for thrills (nothing much more) and it succeeds on that count with solid acting, good direction, and a crafty script. 

  

Color Out of Space (2019)

☆ ☆ ☆

Color Out of Space (2019) – R. Stanley

So, Nicolas Cage is making six movies a year these days?  He’s on a roll, a tear, and really is the go-to actor for over-the-top madness (still).  This version of the H. P. Lovecraft story is clearly designed as an acid trip (no need for actual drugs).  I had read the story a few years ago (and I’ve just scanned it again now) but had no specific memories of it. The film seems true to the story though we see more from the insider’s point-of-view perhaps. As usual with this sort of film, things start out rather ordinary: Cage playing Nathan Gardner is at home in rural Arkham (presumably New England) with his wife (Joelly Richardson) and three children, when a meteorite crashes in their front yard.  A hydrologist (Elliot Knight) surveying the area stops by to investigate, including visiting the home of the squatter (Tommy Chong – still smoking!). Gradually, some weird shit starts to happen (the youngest son seems zombified, Richardson starts to lose it).  Cage holds on, perhaps drinking too much, until things just completely melt down.  As does he.  As does the plot.  And the visuals.  But if this is your sort of thing, then perhaps this one is somewhat better than the usual crap out there aiming to be thrilling but ending up only incoherent).  The director is Richard Stanley, last seen getting fired from the Brando version of The Island of Dr. Moreau; apparently this is the first of an intended trilogy of Lovecraft adaptations.

I Confess (1953)

☆ ☆ ☆

I Confess (1953) – A. Hitchcock

Hitch’s obsession with guilt and innocence are on full display here (he always claimed to have a mortal fear of the police despite doing nothing wrong) and he reveals the Catholic roots of these concerns much more overtly here than elsewhere in his canon.  Montgomery Clift plays Father Logan, a priest in Quebec City (the site of a memorable field trip for my high school French class) who hears a murderer’s confession in the first five minutes of the film.  Unfortunately for him, the murderer was dressed as a priest at the time and Logan falls under suspicion – but can’t reveal the real killer because of the sanctity of the confessional!  More importantly, Logan and an “old friend” (Anne Baxter) share a secret, yes, a guilty secret, that means that they are not quite innocent and this further attracts Inspector Karl Malden’s unwanted attention. (Baxter pursuing the “unavailable” Clift, who was gay, does seem to have some Lavender Screen double meanings). Logan seems quite ready to become a martyr, either because of his faith/the principle or to expiate his own guilt – and Hitch makes a number of references to the Stations of the Cross, suggesting the trials he is being put through.  It’s all a bit turgid to be honest until an exciting chase through the Chateau Frontenac (site of a memorable h. s. dinner w/ wine) wraps things up with a bow.  Not Hitch’s best but not without interest. 

  

E. T. the Extra-Terrestrial (1982)

☆ ☆ ☆ ½

E. T. the Extra-Terrestrial (1982) – S. Spielberg

I was already too old in 1982 to appreciate this film aimed at younger kids but I thought it might be the right time for Amon (aged 7), so we checked it out.  Turns out that I didn’t have much memory of it at all (although what little I had was probably jogged by our visit to the movie’s ride at Universal Studios Florida a couple of years back).  As you probably know, the film takes place in one of those nondescript California suburbs and centres on a single mum’s household and principally her youngest son, Elliott (Henry Thomas), who discovers an alien in their pool shed.  This alien is friendly and adorable and a quick learner.  When Elliott’s older brother and younger sister are in on the secret, they all discover that E. T. is keen to go back to his home planet (he was left behind when they scrambled to escape from the Feds) and they help him to create a communication device from some household items.  But soon the Feds have figured out where E. T. is and the jig is up; in fact, after staying out all night waiting for his friends, E. T. is in no condition to escape.  Amon had to “push the tears back up into his face” at this moment and I confess that I felt a bit weepy too.  But of course it all works out fine in the end and John Williams sweeping score carries us (and E. T.) home.  As a critical viewer, it was all a bit too sentimental for me but I’ll admit that Spielberg does seem to capture the spirit of childhood (wonder, adventure, naughty words and all) and Amon enjoyed it. 

Our Man in Havana (1959)

☆ ☆ ☆

Our Man in Havana (1959) – C. Reed

Given the presence of Sir Alec Guinness, I had hoped for the charm of his classic Ealing comedies here – but somehow the pace is just a little too relaxed.  You can sort of see what Michael Balcon’s crew might have made of the comic turns in Graham Greene’s screenplay but they feel underplayed as directed by Carol Reed (which is not to reduce my appreciation of Guinness, Burl Ives, or Ernie Kovacs and their work here).  Even more tantalising is the fact that Alfred Hitchcock also competed for the rights to make this film – which might have made this more like North by Northwest (also 1959) and its tale of the accidental spy.  Here, Guinness signs up for the British Secret Service after being recruited (by Noel Coward) in his vacuum cleaner store in Havana but solely for the money – as he dreams of sending his teen daughter to finishing school in Switzerland. He never intends to actually work as a spy and instead (with Burl Ives’ urging) makes up fantastical reports to send back to London.  Naturally, the Home Office (with Ralph Richardson in charge) is soon interested.  Subsequently, Guinness finds himself the target of enemy agents!  It could have been more madcap (with Ealing) or it could have been more suspenseful (with Hitchcock).  With Carol Reed, Cuba looks beautiful in widescreen B&W but this was a missed opportunity.     

  

Ready Player One (2018)

☆ ☆ ☆ ½

Ready Player One (2018) – S. Spielberg

Who is this movie for anyway? The Generation Z gamers, who might be attracted to its virtual reality world of avatars, coins, and competition (and who can identify with the youthful unknown stars)? Maybe. But weirdly, the virtual reality game world in question is full of pop culture references, primarily from the 1980s (in line with the soundtrack).  You would think perhaps that director Steven Spielberg is showing his age but no, apparently the source novel by Ernest Cline (who co-wrote the screenplay with Marvel maven Zak Penn) is also full of similar references.  Perhaps it would be fun to try to spot them all – if yer old, like me.  And in fact the plot itself hinges on knowledge of certain cultural artefacts (Kubrick’s The Shining, Atari’s Adventure game) that you would think Generation Z might only have passing interest in (at best).  At any rate, the story takes the form of a quest – our hero, Parzival or “Z” (in fact), must solve the game world’s three puzzle challenges – doing so first means inheriting the rights to the game (worth a trillion dollars) from the now dead programmer (who lives on in the game, of course). Z joins forces with a few friends and a new girlfriend who may have even better game skills than he. If he doesn’t succeed, an evil corporation (led by Ben Mendelsohn) might take over the game and use it for profit (by including ads!).  The world itself was created by Industrial Light and Magic and it’s hard to deny their slick prowess with special effects.  It’s all fun enough but since this is Spielberg, it feels rather “without edge” (none too deep), and safe for kids, but will they like it?  

It Always Rains on Sunday (1947)

☆ ☆ ☆ ½

It Always Rains on Sunday (1947) – R. Hamer

Not exactly the Brit-Noir, I thought it would be, but instead something different, foreshadowing the later kitchen-sink melodramas (Look Back in Anger, 1956; Saturday Night and Sunday Morning, 1960; A Taste of Honey, 1961) that would also look at the struggles of the British working class.  Here, Googie Withers plays a young housewife battling with two grown stepdaughters and looking after a husband 15 years her senior. When her ex-lover escapes from prison and takes refuge in her garden shed, you get the feeling she would like to escape from her “prison” too.  But the story doesn’t stay focused tightly on Googie; instead, there is a sort of “Our Town” feel to the proceedings as various subplots reveal the different residents of East End suburb Bethnal Green (a philandering bandleader and his wife, three petty thieves and the local cop, a generous bookie).  All of these subplots have a connection to the main story, either to the main family or the escaped convict. And, finally, the film takes its turn into noir, as the escapee flees through the streets of London with the cops in hot pursuit and Googie considers the consequences of her choices.  Another solid effort from Ealing Studios.

I Am Waiting (1957)

☆ ☆ ☆ ½

I Am Waiting (1957) – K. Kurahara

Film noir, as a genre with fuzzy boundaries, really did sweep the world – with its roots in pulp fiction (e.g., Dashiell Hammett), it overtook Hollywood in the Forties and Fifties (and continues to this day, but is usually called “neo-noir”).  Ore wa matteru ze (“I am waiting”) is a perfect example of how the genre’s tropes were cut-and-paste into another culture – perhaps it makes sense for Japan to have captured it so well, given the influence that America had at that time (see also Kurosawa’s Stray Dog, 1949).  In this film, the protagonist (Yûjirô Ishihara) is an ex-boxer who retired after killing a man (in a bar fight).  He dreams of following his brother to Brazil to become a farmer, but he just needs to raise the dough (in his own bar/restaurant).  One night, he “rescues” a mysterious trench-coated woman (Mie Kitahara) who was drenched by the rain – she’s in trouble with a bunch of hoodlums, led by a fedora wearing club owner, of course.  (You can see some parallels to Melville’s French version of noir that takes place in similar settings here). One thing leads to another, and it turns out the brother in Brazil never actually made it there – and the club-owner and his henchman are somehow involved.  Director Koreyoshi Kurahara employs many of the clichés of the genre but they feel fresh enough in this different cultural milieu; in Hollywood, this might just be another run-of-the-mill picture in the crowded field of noir. The director went on to more confrontational material in the future (e.g., The Warped Ones, 1960).  

Pool of London (1951)

☆ ☆ ☆ ½

Pool of London (1951) – B. Dearden

Shot on location in London, with a gritty feel but lots of famous landmarks too, Basil Dearden’s thriller is in keeping with the emphasis on social issues found elsewhere in his oeuvre (Sapphire, 1959; Victim, 1961).  Here, Johnny (Earl Cameron), a black sailor, is unwittingly caught up in a heist gone bad when his friend, Dan (Bonar Colleano), another sailor, asks him to smuggle a package on board their ship, headed for Rotterdam.  Before that can happen, they have a weekend’s full of shore leave, where Johnny meets and clearly falls in love with the girl who takes tickets at the music hall, Pat (Susan Shaw)  This is apparently one of the first inter-racial relationships depicted on the British screen – and, although most of the other characters are fine with it, 1951’s ugly reality does rear its head and we see Johnny treated to some racist invective.  He’s upset but passive about it, suggesting that the two of them can’t fix the world’s problems.  Racism isn’t really the focus of the film, however, which instead focuses on Dan’s loyalty to Johnny and his moral character, more generally. I think a case could be made for Dearden as an auteur, given his way of infusing realist melodrama into genre, although admittedly I’ve only seen six of his 40+ films (and his part of the Dead of Night portmanteau).  Worth a look.

Stan & Ollie (2018)

☆ ☆ ☆

Stan & Ollie (2018) – J. S. Baird

Steve Coogan and John C. Reilly, two persistently great actors, play Stan Laurel and Oliver Hardy with note perfect impersonations (which I suppose we could have expected from Coogan, given his flair for mimicry in The Trip films). They disappear into the characters.  The film (based on real events) takes place long after the comedy duo’s screen successes, as they attempt to make a comeback in England, touring the country with recreations of their greatest skits.  Both expect to make a final film based on the Robin Hood legend, but it looks like it will fall through.  Indeed, there is an inevitable air of melancholy to the proceedings, as Ollie’s health is failing and audiences are initially small.  But again Coogan and Reilly are superb at their comic reincarnations here, surely eliciting nostalgia from many – and when the actresses playing Laurel and Hardy’s wives show up, an extra level of repartee is provided.  Despite these positives, unfortunately, director Jon S. Baird lays it all on too thick, with extra strings (so to speak) and the result feels overproduced and overly sentimental. There’s little to any edge here, even with the inevitable conflict between the heroes.  A missed opportunity but okay enough.