Foe

Who, or what, is the foe? If we assume Saoirse Ronan's wistful Hen is the focus of the film, then is it her husband Junior, played by Paul Mescal? Or maybe Aaron Pierre's shifty Terrance, an off-world development rep for a company called Outermore? Possibly the actual foe is humanity, especially those that fucked up the Earth enough to warrant living in space. There are quite a few runners and riders here for the titular prize, but this is in contrast with how many speaking parts fill the screen. Aside from Ronan, Mescal and Pierre, there are voices coming from the radio, as well as diegetic music vocals, and that's your lot, chum. 

Foe is as pared back as they come, almost theatrical in tone. There is a lot to unpack here - Artificial Intelligence, the ethics of cloning, relationship breakdown, global heating, gender equality, and probably something else I missed. Ambitious is putting it mildly. I'll describe in broad strokes - Hen and Junior live in a nigh-on uninhabitable dust bowl in the Midwest of the US. The aforementioned radio informs us of worldwide climate disasters and the visuals show this happening around the local area. Cue Terrance with an offer of temporary escape for Junior, to a space station orbiting Earth. 

Here's where I began to get Black Mirror vibes, specifically Beyond the Sea, the somewhat nasty episode 3 of the latest series. The central concept is more or less the same, involving a substitute for the absent husband, but where Black Mirror went for misanthropy, this film aims a lot higher, at love and fulfilment. Foe's Aussie director Garth Davis has a bit about him. He cut his teeth on TV shows like Love My Way and Top of the Lake, and has directed a couple of features, including Lion and Mary Magdalene. He has a steady hand on the tiller and it's clear he knows his craft. 

The atmosphere and performances are slightly heavy handed to begin with, until the realisation that this is all quite necessary hits near the end. It becomes obvious that something is on the cards, not so easy to pick what though, and I'm happy to say I had it completely wrong. Ronan and Mescal are typically great in what is basically a three-hander but I felt Pierre was a bit too mannered compared to the other leads (not his fault, I guess, coming up against those 27 percenters - the film-improving type, not the nutbags).

Not everyone's warm mug of dystopia but I was on board. There's enough going on here to find your way in, I reckon.

Foe opens Nov 2nd at Luna and Palace cinemas and elsewhere around the country.

See also:

There are echoes of the environmental damage that happens to the Earth in Christopher Nolan's Interstellar (2014) and Ronan broke onto the scene in Joe Wright's Atonement (2007).

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The Old Oak

What better film to watch on a 36 degree day than a slice of grim northern English realism from the master himself, Ken Loach. The Old Oak is reported to be Loach's final film and if so, he's left us with a rough little gem. A fading village in Durham sees the arrival of a busload of Syrian refugees, much to the disdain of several residents. It opens with one of these yobs in a NUFC shirt 'accidentally' smashing the camera of Yara, a young woman from the bus, played by Ebla Mari. Tommy Joe Ballantyne (Dave Turner) tries to calm things down and so begins an unlikely but sweet friendship.

This is real heart-on-sleeve filmmaking, personal but very affecting. The slightly amateurish performances underline the naturalism, the almost documentary feel of the film. The analogous plight of the ex-miners in the town and the refugees is not accidental and Loach (and his usual writer, Paul Laverty) imbue the film with barely contained proletariat anger. But as in many of the director's films, the people suffering the injustices can't locate their most worthy target - the system's architects and benefactors are far away - so all that's left to bear the brunt is those below. Dave says as much to an old mate who he rails against for this myopic viewpoint.

The Old Oak of the title is a decrepit pub, which serves as a metaphor for the village, the UK, maybe even the world in general, but also, on a micro level, Tommy Joe himself. TJ has lost people and is barely hanging on, with the help of a little mutt that 'found' him on a particularly rough day. One scene involving his dog is a tough watch, but underlines the bleakness of the situation.

Dave Turner has been in only three films; I, Daniel Blake, Sorry We Missed You and this one, all made by Loach. He's excellent at making you believe he's a normal bloke. He probably isn't even acting, per se, just reading the lines, but that's the point. Mari is also a relative newcomer, a theatre teacher from the Golan Heights (Syria but under Israeli occupation), and she doesn't really need to 'act' either, though she's clearly an ace.

The film harks back to Thatcher's reign of terror, and the similarities between the miners' strikes in the UK at that time and the Syrian refugees are stark - all up against it, all struggling - but the film's rallying cry is for accord, solidarity and acceptance. Not a bad wish. One of Yara's friends once told her that "hope is obscene" but Loach and Laverty do a fine job of countermanding that sentiment.

On a side note, I found it amusing that the Geordie characters were subtitled, as well as the Arabic for the Syrians. Why aye man!

The Old Oak is screening as part of the Cunard British Film Festival 2023 around the country from Nov 1st.

See also:

Can't go wrong with any of Loach's catalogue but a couple of great films that represent Newcastle and Durham are Mike Hodges's Get Carter (1971) and Stephen Daldry's Billy Elliot (2000).

The Crime is Mine

François Ozon is a curious director. His oeuvre is pretty disparate - the last three of his films I've seen were By the Grace of God, In the House and Potiche, each one quite different from the other. The Crime is Mine sees him in a light and breezy mood, as opposed to his more elliptical and moody side. It's a proper lark, this, too.

In 1935 Paris a young aspiring actress, Madeleine Verdier (played with winning brio by Nadia Tereszkiewicz) is accused of killing a Weinsteiny theatre producer. Her lawyer housemate, Pauline Mauléon (an equally excellent Rebecca Marder) convinces her to take the rap so she can defend her honour in court. The forthcoming legal success brings publicity, plus offers of theatre and film work. Things are looking rosy until the real killer, Odette Chaumette (Isabelle Huppert, having a great time) tries to muscle in on the action.

This is a female-centred screwball comedy, that brings to mind a different era. Katherine Hepburn, Rosalind Russell or Jean Harlow wouldn't have looked out of place in this, maybe even Monroe at a pinch. That said, it's very French and played with a knowing confidence by all concerned. Huppert is  virtually doing am-dram panto; Dany Boon as shifty ally, Palmarède is fantastic; while Fabrice Luchini, as judge/prosecutor Rabusset leaves it all out on the pitch. Special mention must go to André Dussollier, who has a brief role as Madeleine's potential father-in-law, Monsieur Bonnard. The set piece in his Italian Futurist-styled office is a highlight (see above).

In this type of film, getting the mix of ham and brie right can be very tricky but Ozon uses his manifold talents, and those of his cast, to make sure things don't get too pungent. It's also a treat on the eye and ear - the set and costume design is stagy but stylish, and there's a nicely jaunty score. And I might be wrong, but I thought I spotted the roof from Delicatessen as well.

The Crime is Mine opens Oct 12th at Luna and Palace cinemas in Perth, and other good cinemas around the country.

See also:

Ozon's Swimming Pool (2003) is a curiously gripping film and Huppert and Marder were both in Jean-Paul Salomé's The Godmother (aka Mother Weed) (2020).

Sick of Myself

Sick of Myself is a jet black Norwegian tragi-comedy from writer/director, Kristoffer Borgli. It starts in a posh restaurant where Signe (Kristine Kujath Thorp) is being treated to a birthday meal by her irritating boyfriend, Thomas (Eirik Sæther). He tells her to take a fake phone call outside, and is soon after seen legging it down the street with a two-grand bottle of wine, waiter in pursuit. If this makes us question where the film is heading, the next scene amps up the perplexity. Signe is at work in a cafe when a fairly shocking 'incident' occurs. This acts as the spark to what follows with Signe, and well, it's no stretch to say it's certainly a confronting film.

Thomas is an up-and-coming modern sculptor, who makes shit out of stolen furniture. As the interest in his work grows, Signe finds herself being more and more sidelined. All the attention is on Thomas, even though Signe craves her share, after all "the police and paramedics all said I may have saved that woman's life." There's a brilliant scene at an after-show dinner where she fakes an allergy, that hints at her desperation. Awkward doesn't quite cover it.

The film dances along a fine line between mental health struggles and ripping seven shades out of the privileged 'me' generation. Fame whores and wellness freaks get a proper lathing from Borgli and some of his writing is squirm-inducing. I reckon he finds the right balance but it's a close run thing at times. Thorp carries most of the film and she has to take an enormous amount of credit for some of the stuff she's called upon to do. A cracking turn in an idiosyncratic film.

Sick of Myself opens Oct 5th at Luna cinemas.

See also:

I'll stay in Norway and recommend Morten Tyldum's Headhunters (2011) and Eskil Vogt's The Innocents (2021). Both great fun.

The Creator

This is Gareth Edwards' first film since the fantastic Rogue One in 2016 and it's certainly an ambitious prospect. If you can imagine a sliding scale of sci-fi quality with Blade Runner at one end and Elysium at the other, then The Creator would shuttle between the two, eventually landing closer to the former. There are aspects that feel familiar - some moments are a bit Avatar-ish, specifically when Allison Janney's Colonel Howell is on screen - but there's a lot that feels fresh, too. 

It starts with a great premise - Artificial Intelligence has been steadily developing until around 2050, when a nuclear warhead is detonated in Los Angeles, prompting the 'Western world' to ban AI. Other regions, such as New Asia, don't accept or enforce a similar ban, forcing the US into a war, nominally against the AI and those who create or harbour them (no mention of 'New Africa' or New Oceania' or other such entities). The infiltration and jungle warfare tactics of the US authorities has a pretty heavy whiff of Vietnam here, drawing a long bow in the comparison between the existential threat of AI and the mendacity of forcing that messy chapter of history.

Picking up a few years later, John David Washington (Joshua) is under cover in New Asia when a botched attack by the US scuppers his gig and kills his agent/wife/mother of unborn child in the bargain. All in the attempt at finding Nirmata, the AI creator of the title. We jump forward a few more years again to learn that a new threat is on the table. Nirmata has produced a super weapon that can shut down the US floating super structure, NOMAD, likely tipping the war in New Asia's favour. High stakes.

The world building by Edwards is fantastic - the watery cities of New Asia; robot police fanning through rice fields; old cars with new electronics; the megalithic NOMAD, floating just out of the earth's atmosphere, raining down missiles; jogging 'suicide' bombs; clunky translation devices (ChattaBox); and a range of cool looking robots and simulants. The production design by James Clyne and the CGI are high-water marks of The Creator (here's a good read from The Credits website). The whole film looks amazing, with co-DOP's Greig Fraser and Oren Soffer to thank.

The film slightly loses its grasp in the third act where the story gets a little frenetic but, somehow, soporific at the same time. The Rogue One style righteous despair works less well here, possibly due to the lack of character development - for example, we don't get enough background of Gemma Chan's character, Maya. The relationship between her and Joshua needs a bit more than a few flashback beach shots at the beginning to give us reason to care and feel for their plight. Another issue might be that Washington doesn't have quite the talent of his father, Denzel, and unfair comparisons aside, he seems a touch miscast. His double act with Madeleine Yuna Voyles (Alphie) is sweet enough, though, I suppose.

All in all, this is a welcome entry to the original, thought-provoking sci-fi 'one-offs' stable (assuming there's no franchise on the cards). It has plenty going for it, especially visually, and is certainly worth a look. Ultimately though, Edwards has done a great job of smoothing the way for our future AI overlords by pitching the sympathy squarely in their cold, passionless favour. Thanks a lot, Gareth, you massive quisling arsehole.

See also:

I see a link to Alex Garland's Ex Machina (2014) and there's more AI sympathising going on in Alex Proyas' I, Robot (2004).

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