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Neon's Nerd Nexus (360 KP) rated The Lighthouse (2019) in Movies
Mar 2, 2020
Spill yer beans
The Lighthouse is cinematic perfection that will leave anyone that lets it engulf thier mind and senses broken, disturbed, traumatised and violated. An experience like no other I can not stress enough that everyone must whitness this utter masterpiece. Primarily a character study about two lighthouse keepers descent into madness however the way the film depicts this reaches far deeper than I ever even imagined it would. (Possible spoilers ahead) Theres an unquestionable comparison to Greek mythology here and as the film plays out Willem Dafoe character draws several comparisons to King Trident, Zeus and Minos but ultimatly ends up becoming one of his own 'God of the lighthouse' keeping his prized possession locked away at the top of his tower. Robert Pattison also compares to the Titan Prometheus trying to steel this possesion/fire from this so called god. He can also be compared to Icarus trapped in a tower by a mean man with no means of escape and Odysseus constantly distracted/infatuated with the Sirens surrounding the lighthouse. I found these comparisions integrated into the story beautifully and theres constant fable/mythological imagry to reinforce these comparisons too which is hauntingly striking and terrifyingly prominent. Atmosphere is pin sharp here and as these two men begin to break you feel everything that starts to grate on them bombarding your senses as a viewr too. Everything is communicated flawlessly to really draw the viewer in as if we too are stuck with these to men feeling evrything build up, irritate, torment and add to the degradation of the mind until it hits its breaking point. Floors creaking & bowing, metal bending and screeching, wind howling, waves crashing, rain beating down, shutters rattling and birds squawking its intense and realistic sound design thats for sure. Mix this with a constant sence of dread from the narrow corridors, looming shadows, low lighting, claustrophobic living quaters, fog, harsh weather, mud, anoying seagulls, restricted views, countless foul smells, hard back breaking work, sexual frustrations, loneliness and alcohol its enough to make anyone go insane and as the film plays out cabin fever really intensifies (especially for us with the film being shot in black and white and with a smaller aspect ratio). This is some of the best acting ive seen for sure both Dafoe and Pattison portray these characters so well that you would be convinced you were watching historic archive footage of two people cooped up. Both are devious liars, have vicious tempers and nasty streaks as well as mysterious pasts and both are also constantly in a fight for dominance of the lighthouse and the secrets it holds. In this day and age The lighthouse is such a true gem to behold and is so unique and engrossing you would swear it transported you back in time while watching it. I also did not expect this film to take the turn it does half way through either almost becoming a distressing horror movie and as intense as a tesuo film and as my friend and me left the screening we found ourselves deeply disturbed/traumatised with our hearts pounding from what we had just been exposed to. Disgustingly intense, depressingly dripping in sadness, brutaly violent and deeply unsettling the lighthouse is one hell of a movie and may just be one of the best movies I have ever seen, it really is without a doubt a cinema experience I will certainly never forget. Comparable to the witch, the turin horse and apocalypse now the lighthouse deserves all the praise its been getting and more. Stunning.
Gareth von Kallenbach (980 KP) rated The Man Who Knew Infinity (2016) in Movies
Aug 6, 2019
In 1914, Srinivasa Ramanujan (Dev Patel) traveled from his poverty-stricken existence in Madras, India to Trinity College, Cambridge in the hope that he would have his theories published and be recognized for the mathematical genius he was. While there, despite facing racism, hostility and severe illness, he formed an important relationship with G.H. Hardy (Jeremy Irons) that would lead to breakthroughs in mathematics that are still relevant today.
It would be easy to prattle on about the tremendous talent onscreen in The Man Who Knew Infinity and with a supporting cast that features some of Britain’s best; we get exactly what we’d expect from the likes of Jeremy Irons, Toby Jones and Kevin McNally. All at the top of their game, they serve the story well with nuanced and well-rounded performances, and I’m certainly not going to take anything away from the exceptional jobs they’ve all done here. All the praise this film deserves however, needs to be directed at Dev Patel. In his role as Ramanujan, he’s completely stepped out of the shadow of his big-screen debut in Slumdog Millionaire and has proved his worth as a leading man capable of carrying the weight of an entire feature. Distancing himself also from the lovable, bumbling hotel owner in The Best Exotic Marigold movies, with Ramanujan he is allowed the room to display an incredible range, from quiet intensity to outspoken, unbridled passion and determination. Kudos also to the writers for not going The Big Short route (e.g. talking down to the uninitiated with ridiculous cutaways), but by using simple logic and examples to help convey complex information relevant to the plot.
For the performances alone, this is a solid entry in the biopic genre, but structurally speaking, it’s the editing that lets the film down. This very easily could have emerged as the next A Beautiful Mind, but between a bloated first act, a middling and wandering second act and a truncated final third, The Man Who Knew Infinity falls just short of greatness. Not only is no attention paid to Ramanujan’s achievements as a child, but too much time is given to details and subplots that are arguably inconsequential to the main narrative. This is especially evident in the inclusion of Bertrand Russell (who lived such a rich and fascinating life himself, it would take several films to do that story justice) and his being here feels like just a hollow excuse to include a cameo from another figure of historical importance. The biggest disservice though comes with the ending where we are denied a much needed catharsis and are left to suffer through a slap-dash, halfhearted montage. A restructuring from a more seasoned hand would have undoubtedly led to stronger word-of-mouth and perhaps a wider release. I also wouldn’t be surprised to learn that this is a case of “too many cooks” as the film has a staggering 43 credited producers. I get that independent features can be forced to source their funding from many places, but you can’t tell me that with all those opinions flying about that some of the original intent didn’t get lost in the noise.
As an aside, what Stephen Fry is doing here is beyond me. He’s given two scenes with perhaps a half a dozen lines, leaving his incomparable persona entirely wasted on a completely throwaway character. It’s a pity he wasn’t given a meatier role as one of Ramanujan’s antagonists.
It would be easy to prattle on about the tremendous talent onscreen in The Man Who Knew Infinity and with a supporting cast that features some of Britain’s best; we get exactly what we’d expect from the likes of Jeremy Irons, Toby Jones and Kevin McNally. All at the top of their game, they serve the story well with nuanced and well-rounded performances, and I’m certainly not going to take anything away from the exceptional jobs they’ve all done here. All the praise this film deserves however, needs to be directed at Dev Patel. In his role as Ramanujan, he’s completely stepped out of the shadow of his big-screen debut in Slumdog Millionaire and has proved his worth as a leading man capable of carrying the weight of an entire feature. Distancing himself also from the lovable, bumbling hotel owner in The Best Exotic Marigold movies, with Ramanujan he is allowed the room to display an incredible range, from quiet intensity to outspoken, unbridled passion and determination. Kudos also to the writers for not going The Big Short route (e.g. talking down to the uninitiated with ridiculous cutaways), but by using simple logic and examples to help convey complex information relevant to the plot.
For the performances alone, this is a solid entry in the biopic genre, but structurally speaking, it’s the editing that lets the film down. This very easily could have emerged as the next A Beautiful Mind, but between a bloated first act, a middling and wandering second act and a truncated final third, The Man Who Knew Infinity falls just short of greatness. Not only is no attention paid to Ramanujan’s achievements as a child, but too much time is given to details and subplots that are arguably inconsequential to the main narrative. This is especially evident in the inclusion of Bertrand Russell (who lived such a rich and fascinating life himself, it would take several films to do that story justice) and his being here feels like just a hollow excuse to include a cameo from another figure of historical importance. The biggest disservice though comes with the ending where we are denied a much needed catharsis and are left to suffer through a slap-dash, halfhearted montage. A restructuring from a more seasoned hand would have undoubtedly led to stronger word-of-mouth and perhaps a wider release. I also wouldn’t be surprised to learn that this is a case of “too many cooks” as the film has a staggering 43 credited producers. I get that independent features can be forced to source their funding from many places, but you can’t tell me that with all those opinions flying about that some of the original intent didn’t get lost in the noise.
As an aside, what Stephen Fry is doing here is beyond me. He’s given two scenes with perhaps a half a dozen lines, leaving his incomparable persona entirely wasted on a completely throwaway character. It’s a pity he wasn’t given a meatier role as one of Ramanujan’s antagonists.
Gareth von Kallenbach (980 KP) rated The Finest Hours (2016) in Movies
Aug 6, 2019
The Finest Hours tells the story of four men who, in February of 1952, undertook one of the most daring rescue attempts in the history of the Unites States Coast Guard. A tanker, the SS Pendleton, is caught in a storm off the coast of New England and is ripped in half, leaving more than 30 sailors adrift and sinking. While Bernard Webber (Chris Pine) leads an impossible rescue in a lifeboat designed to hold only 12, his fiancée, Miriam (Holliday Grainger), struggles to come to terms with what it means to be the wife of a man who has to willingly risk his life for others.
Year after year, it proves out. January is just not a good month for cinema. With one hand, the studios campaign for award season glory and with the other, dump their trash. That’s not to say The Finest Hours is total garbage. Even I’m not that cynical to unconditionally condemn something that shines a light on the triumph of the human spirit when faced with insurmountable odds. It’s just that there is only about one-third of a good film here. Anytime the crew of the Pendelton was onscreen, I was captivated. Their struggle for survival and their feats of engineering under incredible pressure make for riveting entertainment and should have been a film unto itself. These scenes unfortunately are interspaced with and, more often than not, forced to take a back seat to paint-by-numbers dialogue, two-dimensional caricatures (both disappointing when you consider the three writers on this film were behind The Fighter) and a shockingly abrasive score during the main U.S. Coast Guard narrative. And yes, it may be called The Finest Hours, but if that’s the title they’re going with a little more effort should have been put into the rescuers, as opposed to those being rescued. Overall, we’re deprived of a sense of urgency, in what is supposed to be a race against time, and an intimacy with any character performed well enough to be worth caring about.
At least this isn’t a complete waste of an all-star cast. I’ll ease off on Chris Pine, tempted as I might be to pick on him. After having fumbled his way through both Captain Kirk and Jack Ryan, doing so now in a flick produced by Disney would feel rather like a cheap shot. Instead it’s fairer to write off the other, usually more dependable leads and praise Casey Affleck, who alone makes The Finest Hours watchable. Ironically, he plays the man who has to keep not only half a ship afloat, but an entire crew together. Between Eric Bana’s overstatement, Ben Foster’s understatement, and a questionable casting choice in Holliday Grainger, Affleck is heads above the rest when it comes to making courage and sentiment ring true.
A regrettable execution notwithstanding, better can and should have been done to honor these distinguished service members and viewers looking for a storytelling standard above the level of your average Hallmark original are advised to look elsewhere. Try, for instance, Oliver Stone’s (not as controversial as we all thought it was going to be) World Trade Center for a better example of how these tales of perseverance and survival are supposed to be done.
Year after year, it proves out. January is just not a good month for cinema. With one hand, the studios campaign for award season glory and with the other, dump their trash. That’s not to say The Finest Hours is total garbage. Even I’m not that cynical to unconditionally condemn something that shines a light on the triumph of the human spirit when faced with insurmountable odds. It’s just that there is only about one-third of a good film here. Anytime the crew of the Pendelton was onscreen, I was captivated. Their struggle for survival and their feats of engineering under incredible pressure make for riveting entertainment and should have been a film unto itself. These scenes unfortunately are interspaced with and, more often than not, forced to take a back seat to paint-by-numbers dialogue, two-dimensional caricatures (both disappointing when you consider the three writers on this film were behind The Fighter) and a shockingly abrasive score during the main U.S. Coast Guard narrative. And yes, it may be called The Finest Hours, but if that’s the title they’re going with a little more effort should have been put into the rescuers, as opposed to those being rescued. Overall, we’re deprived of a sense of urgency, in what is supposed to be a race against time, and an intimacy with any character performed well enough to be worth caring about.
At least this isn’t a complete waste of an all-star cast. I’ll ease off on Chris Pine, tempted as I might be to pick on him. After having fumbled his way through both Captain Kirk and Jack Ryan, doing so now in a flick produced by Disney would feel rather like a cheap shot. Instead it’s fairer to write off the other, usually more dependable leads and praise Casey Affleck, who alone makes The Finest Hours watchable. Ironically, he plays the man who has to keep not only half a ship afloat, but an entire crew together. Between Eric Bana’s overstatement, Ben Foster’s understatement, and a questionable casting choice in Holliday Grainger, Affleck is heads above the rest when it comes to making courage and sentiment ring true.
A regrettable execution notwithstanding, better can and should have been done to honor these distinguished service members and viewers looking for a storytelling standard above the level of your average Hallmark original are advised to look elsewhere. Try, for instance, Oliver Stone’s (not as controversial as we all thought it was going to be) World Trade Center for a better example of how these tales of perseverance and survival are supposed to be done.
Gareth von Kallenbach (980 KP) rated Trumbo (2016) in Movies
Aug 6, 2019
What is it that makes, not a great, but even a good biopic? It is certainly no enviable task, trying to condense decades of a person’s life into a mere two hours. Choosing what to keep and what to leave, stringing events together so that they feel as though they are one complete narrative opposed to a series of vignettes. And then there are the inevitable purists who will write off the entire product based on a single detail either left out or composited due to running time or budgetary restrictions. Over the years, I have found myself wrestling with my opinion of Braveheart. Do I enjoy it for its epic qualities, or do I cast it aside as the wretched historical inaccuracies fly in the face of what is one of the most important times in a country’s past?
The answer is simply, and stolen from another great historical epic, are you not entertained? Film can and should be powerful and informative. It can and should influence our thinking and encourage an emotional response, but above all, it should entertain. Trumbo does all of the above, ticks all the necessary boxes on the list of what makes a great biopic and whatever historical inaccuracies lie within be damned. Director Jay Roach, writer John McNamara and an ensemble so good it has to be seen to be believed have made, if not the best biopic of the year (that distinction still stays with Steve Jobs for now), then certainly the most enjoyable.
Where I find myself in reviewing Trumbo is trying not to sound monotonous in singing its high praises. Whether you’re interested in a message or not, because there is a good one in there, it’s a film that demands to be seen just on the strength of the cohesiveness that comes from the writing, the acting and (I still can’t believe I’m about to write this about the man who made all three Austin Powers movies) the directing.
I could prattle on endlessly about how overwhelmingly good this cast is, but the names speak for themselves. Bryan Cranston showcases that he is not just the best thing on television, but also a big-screen powerhouse. Helen Mirren, in her inimitable fashion and with beautiful understatement, is a force to be reckoned with, seething venom and self-righteousness. Louis C.K. finally breaks out of his stand-up comic persona to give a truly heartfelt performance played with surprisingly restrained vulnerability. The chemistry between him and Bryan Cranston will no doubt leave you wanting more. And John Goodman… well, it’s John Goodman. He continues to prove that no matter how small a part he has to play, it will stay with you long after you’ve left the theater. Hands down, and these are only four out of a dozen terrific performances, there hasn’t been an ensemble this stunning since L.A. Confidential.
It should also be mentioned that Michael Stuhlbarg, David James Elliott and Dean O’Gorman, who portray Edward G. Robinson, John Wayne and Kirk Douglas respectively, are unquestionably destined to go down as the unsung heroes of Trumbo. Their efforts, not just to imitate but to fully realize these Hollywood stars of a by-gone era, are a further complement to inspired casting and commitment to honoring the lives of the people portrayed on screen.
In short (and well done for making it this far through monotonous and truly well-deserved praise), if you have to see one film this Thanksgiving season that doesn’t star Tom Hardy as England’s notorious Kray brothers, see Trumbo.
The answer is simply, and stolen from another great historical epic, are you not entertained? Film can and should be powerful and informative. It can and should influence our thinking and encourage an emotional response, but above all, it should entertain. Trumbo does all of the above, ticks all the necessary boxes on the list of what makes a great biopic and whatever historical inaccuracies lie within be damned. Director Jay Roach, writer John McNamara and an ensemble so good it has to be seen to be believed have made, if not the best biopic of the year (that distinction still stays with Steve Jobs for now), then certainly the most enjoyable.
Where I find myself in reviewing Trumbo is trying not to sound monotonous in singing its high praises. Whether you’re interested in a message or not, because there is a good one in there, it’s a film that demands to be seen just on the strength of the cohesiveness that comes from the writing, the acting and (I still can’t believe I’m about to write this about the man who made all three Austin Powers movies) the directing.
I could prattle on endlessly about how overwhelmingly good this cast is, but the names speak for themselves. Bryan Cranston showcases that he is not just the best thing on television, but also a big-screen powerhouse. Helen Mirren, in her inimitable fashion and with beautiful understatement, is a force to be reckoned with, seething venom and self-righteousness. Louis C.K. finally breaks out of his stand-up comic persona to give a truly heartfelt performance played with surprisingly restrained vulnerability. The chemistry between him and Bryan Cranston will no doubt leave you wanting more. And John Goodman… well, it’s John Goodman. He continues to prove that no matter how small a part he has to play, it will stay with you long after you’ve left the theater. Hands down, and these are only four out of a dozen terrific performances, there hasn’t been an ensemble this stunning since L.A. Confidential.
It should also be mentioned that Michael Stuhlbarg, David James Elliott and Dean O’Gorman, who portray Edward G. Robinson, John Wayne and Kirk Douglas respectively, are unquestionably destined to go down as the unsung heroes of Trumbo. Their efforts, not just to imitate but to fully realize these Hollywood stars of a by-gone era, are a further complement to inspired casting and commitment to honoring the lives of the people portrayed on screen.
In short (and well done for making it this far through monotonous and truly well-deserved praise), if you have to see one film this Thanksgiving season that doesn’t star Tom Hardy as England’s notorious Kray brothers, see Trumbo.
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