LFF Film Review: Tangerine

A review for FilmFeed

Tangerine (dir. Sean Baker)

American actor, director and producer Jay Duplass recently appeared in the acclaimed Amazon Prime original, Transparent. A show that saw Jeffrey Tambor play a retired college professor who decides to come out as a women to his family and friends in later life. Fast-forward a year, and Duplass’ production company (which he runs with his younger brother, Mark) appears at the beginning of Sean Baker’s film, Tangerine.

Selected for the Official Competition at the BFI London Film Festival, Baker’s film also hones in on the ‘trans’ world. Though were Transparent explores society’s reaction to a white, middle class teacher coming out as a women, Tangerine takes aim at Los Angeles; specifically, at the trans sex workers that populate the sun-drenched strip of Santa Monica Boulevard.

Another facet that both show and film share is comedy. A register that you’d imagine came less naturally to Baker’s film, where humiliation, sleazy sexual solicitors and crack cocaine combine. Far from forced, however, the film’s comic tone serves to add authenticity to the story of Sin-Dee Rella (Kitana Kiki Rodriguez) and Alexandra (Mya Taylor). Perhaps because the two leads are, for the most part, playing themselves; enacting episodes that they have encountered, both high and low.

To this end, Sean Baker and his screenwriter approached the film in an interesting way. Instead of forming a plot, characters and themes first, they started with Mya and Kitana, and so eschewed imposing their own narrative on a world they admit to being ignorant of. Baker has described Mya as his passport into the trans world, though on watching the movie, you suspect she is much more than that. She is the beating heart of Tangerine, a film that is characterised by boldness from its camerawork to its comedy.

And so it’s at this point that we must address the technical accomplishments of the film. Faced with a limited budget of $100,000, Baker shot the film entirely on the iPhone 5s; an aesthetic choice suited both to the overexposed Californian setting, and the whip-neck pace of Sin-Dee and Alexandra. If you’re worried that sounds a little trite, don’t be. Though the opening act is littered with unique close-ups, fast pans and general trickery, Baker understands that it’s the story that’s important here, not the medium.

Review: Second Coming

Film review for On the Box

Magic and realism combine like Jamaican patois and cockney English in Debbie Tucker Green’s debut feature. The result of this composite equation is a compelling, atmospheric, and wholly original film.

Set in the suburbs of South London, Second Coming pertains to the definitive meaning of that phrase, without Marshall’s un-expecting mother (Jax) explicitly stating anything miraculous about her pregnancy within the film’s 105 minute running time. Instead, the narrative’s focus remains on the triumvirate of performances from Nadine Marshall, Idris Elba, and their 11-year old son, Kai Francis Lewis.

Suitably, the strength of Second Coming is in its performances, which Green’s directorial style demands a great deal from. Elba is required to tone down some of his strengths in order to play a struggling, but essentially good father and husband. Marshall is a women scarred by her own emotional battles with pregnancy; JJ (Kai Lewis) is her only child from five pregnancies, and it is in Lewis that the high quality watermark of performances is sealed.

The intriguing editing of the film hacks away at time, periodically dropping in on this ordinary family at various stages in Jax’s unordinary pregnancy. Like Richard Linklater’s Boyhood (though the timeframe here is 9 months rather than 18 years), the moments which Green’s camera does drop in on aren’t particularly important in and of themselves. Instead, they provide a complete picture of this family’s everyday life: preparing food, visiting family, and the drawn out tension – and corresponding bursts of frustration – that play out in between.

All the while, and to the frustration of her friends, Jax remains unwilling to open up about her pregnancy. Is there another man? Is she anxious about losing it? Or is the answer something altogether more metaphysical? Answers aren’t particularly forthcoming, and Green isn’t interested in teasing audiences with clues either.

For some viewers, the lack of emotion portrayed by Jax – the film’s central character – could prove testing. Though this sanitization of overt feelings, and the whole process of bottling things up inside, becomes a theme that is explored in the film. With one of the most uncharacteristically melodramatic scenes coming as Elba vents his anger and confusion toward the ‘elephant in the womb’.

Certainly from what is on offer here, it’s clear that Green has the original perspective and flair for cinema that is going to yield an interesting collection of films.

Review: Samba

A film review for Film Feed

The French writer-director team Eric Toledano and Olivier Nakache follow the success of The Intouchables with this warming love story set amidst immigration strife.

The film opens at a swanky high-class party in which the camera, in one impressive take, pulls back from the decadence, winds through bustling corridors and settles on Samba (Omar Sy), washing dishes at the back of a hotel kitchen. His employment there is strictly off the books, and when the offer of a proper contract proves too tempting to ignore, he’s seized upon by immigration police – despite having lived in Paris for the past ten years. With nowhere to turn, Samba comes face to face with Alice (Charlotte Gainsborough), a burnt out white collar worker volunteering at the immigration office after suffering from a stress related breakdown.  Samba is to be Alice’s first case, and despite vehement warnings from her co-worker to not get emotionally involved with the people she’s helping, it’s clear there’s a magnetic chemistry between the two of them that can’t be ignored.

Playing against type, Gainsborough’s character is timid, anxious and vulnerable. Samba, on the other hand, is vibrant, optimistic and a little goofy – regardless of the precarious situation he finds himself in. On screen, their relationship is incredible to watch, their vulnerabilities dissipating completely when around one another. Alice forgets all about her hang-ups, the stress and worry that tinge her life, while Samba needs little encouragement to enjoy being with the woman in front of him. For all the seriousness of the issues portrayed in the film, there’s an unashamed light-heartedness, if not sentimentality, in the directors’ approach. Scenes of pain are even more effectively realised when followed by moments of relief, and only every so often does the film’s comic tone feel a touch irksome.

The hit and miss episodes of farce in Samba serve to disrupt the coming together of the central pair as well as highlighting the unbridled resolve of the titular character. While some have taken issue with the film’s insincere treatment of a problem that is so prevalent in France, it really is difficult to resist its charm; a charm embodied by Samba.  

After two huge successes, it will be intriguing to see what Omar Sy turns his talent to next. With stars like Charlotte Gainsborough already queuing up to work with him, he’s quickly becoming on of French cinema’s most bankable exports.

Review: Girlhood

A film review for The Upcoming 

With Girlhood, Céline Sciamma is releasing a third film that’s concerned with, well, girlhood. Her previous features, Water Lilies and Tomboy, both go some way to tackling the lack of cinema invested in the experience of growing up as a girl. Her third, thankfully, is no different.

Set in the projects of a Parisian suburb, the narrative begins with Marieme (Karidja Touré) and her friends talking to one another in a flurry of indistinct chatter; the film’s French title Band le Filles, or “gang of girls”, is possibly more fitting. As the girls walk past a group of lads sitting around a stairway, their chatter ceases, and with that we’re initiated into their mindsets.

The real success of Girlhood is that its themes stick with you long after watching, and so too does Touré’s performance. Starring in every scene, Marieme is a character coming to terms with her gender. While she enjoys the sense of camaraderie she has with her friends, she ultimately understands femininity to be a signifier of weakness – not a trait that sits well with Marieme’s strong and independent personality. As the film continues, it becomes a truly thought-provoking exploration of female power, contained in this patriarchal structure of Parisian tower blocks.

Set to a pulsing synth soundtrack with brief soirées into chart pop, Sciamma’s script and direction really allow you to inhabit the world that these girls belong to. As such, when Marieme is courted by a group of tougher and possibly older schoolgirls, Sciamma doesn’t allow you to easily judge them. This isn’t a case of “bad” corrupting “good”; rather, you get a real sense of understanding as to why the girls adopt this aggressive behaviour. To dance, fight, sing and gossip is to seek a means of escape from a life of subservience that beckons them from the periphery.

Newcomer Touré has a lot to do with the brilliance of Marieme. She is enigmatic, confident and beaming with energy. With the likes of Hunger Games and Divergent dominating Hollywood, it’s refreshing to see such a strong, independent female character existing in the real world reaching our cinemas. Here’s hoping we get a fourth film soon from this interesting and focused director.

Review: John Wick

A film review for On the Box.

When three Russian thugs kill John Wick’s dog, his world falls apart. As a result, he’s sucked back into his violent past, with a reimagined New York providing the perfect arena for this well-handled revenge thriller.

Teaming up with his former stunt double on The Matrix, Keanu Reeves reminds us of the presence he can bring to a big action movie following the disappointment of films such as 47 Ronin. He is helped, no doubt, by the sheer control and understanding of the genre possessed by Chad Stahelski and David Leitch. Each scenario, no matter how deadly, is handled with a dexterity that is compelling to watch. Despite taking out up to thirty Russian henchmen at a time, John Wick’s soirees into destruction remain literate as well as enticing. Rather than relying on fast cutting, shaky cameras and visual chaos, each set piece is shot with a patience that showcases Reeves’ physical stunts rather than virtual effects or tricks of the camera. It’s something that any action aficionado will relish from beginning to end.

The onslaught begins when Alife Allen (Game of Thrones), quite enjoyable here as Mikael Nyqvist’s thuggish brat, murders John Wick’s dog and nabs his Mustang. The set up might be a bit much, but it doesn’t feel forced given the film’s comic book aesthetic. Instead, this world of gangsters, contract killers and specified ‘no-kill’ zones is so well realised that you can’t resist giving yourself up to it. In fact, given the entire film is populated singularly by these shady figures, it would be difficult not to.

From the skyline to the subtitles, the entire film is stylized. Neon-lit corridors and rain-drenched courtyards provide the natural habitat for Keanu Reeves’ boogeyman of the hitman community. Actually, John Wick’s reputation for lethal efficiency is so well known that the mob boss takes pains to assure us that Wick isn’t the boogeyman, “he’s the guy you send to kill the fucking boogeyman.” In an attempt to prevent the master of murder himself from opening the floodgates on his son, Nyqvist uses his influence to send a slew of assassins after Wick. It is here that the supporting cast take the floor, with Willem Dafoe and Ian McShane assuming recognisable roles and adding to the sense that, in this town, old friends and old enemies aren’t necessarily separate things.

Keanu Reeves is fantastic in the lead role, bringing his calming presence to the screen before disrupting it with brutal moments of violence. His movements are clinical, but the film’s script is playful enough as to not get bogged down by overwrought sincerity. With reports that John Wick 2 is already in early development, it might not be long until to see what he can possibly do next.

Theatre Review: Clarence Darrow

Theatre review for The Upcoming

The lights go up, the stage is empty. A series of grunts and crashes introduce Clarence Darrow, the great American lawyer and Civil Rights defender lying with his legs in the air, beneath his desk. A couple of anxious minutes go by, with Kevin Spacey pottering around the stage (dressed up like the office of Atticus Finch) before collapsing into his chair. More time transpires while Spacey looks around the room, as if greeting each person in the packed out Old Vic auditorium. A couple of nervous giggles leak out and just like that, the audience are in the palm of his hand, remaining there until the very end.

The poignancy of the evening is palpable, this being Spacey’s final performance as creative director of the Old Vic since he took over twelve years ago. Fitting then, perhaps, that he takes centre stage in this one-man play charting the life and work of an eloquent country lawyer who “didn’t bribe jurors, he frightened them to death.” The intimacy created by staging the play in the round certainly reproduces a bit of that terror, Spacey’s full-bodied performance barely contained by the wooden stage. Instead, the audience become implicit in Darrow’s recreation of famous trials, as well as intimate scenes involving his first wife.

Impassioned and at times vitriolic, Darrow is presented as a staunch defender of left-leaning politics in a recognisably ignorant society. Racial harmony, the eight-hour day and the end of the death penalty are all argued for over the course of the play, and it’s hard to not leave the theatre considering these morals against our own society. Darrow is shown to be tired of the world that he’s been fighting (or teaching) for so long. Ultimately, there’s an understandable amount of pride in Darrow that can’t be criticised.  Of all the 102 men he defended, Spacey tells us, not a one was hanged.

The script is one that was first staged 40 years ago, with Henry Fonda in the role. Far from dusty, however, the words are brought to life by Spacey’s exhilarated movement and delivery; jokes land on cue, moments of anguish are perfectly realised. After giving everything he has for almost 2 hours, the play comes to its end. The time has flown by. The next time Spacey returns to the London stage it will be a guest, but one we’ll be more than happy to have.

Clarence Darrow is on at The Old Vic until 15^th June 2015, for further information visit here.