The Prestige (2006)

"You don't really want to work it out. You want to be fooled."

I've seen this film before, a few years before this blog was ever envisioned. I haven't read the original novel be Christopher Priest, but I understand there are a few differences; I won't look them up, as I have a vague intention to read the novel someday- although the ever-moving onset of middle age is making me aware that I have a finite number of decades left in order to consume all the culture I would like to consume.

I don't intend to simply rercount the intricate and clever plot, but, obviously, SPOILERS.

This filom, as one would expect from Christopher Nolan, is supremely entertaining and bloody clever. Let's get the evaluation out of the way now: it's superb. The whole plot is constructed and layered like a magic trick, ending with not one but two prestiges: the revelation that Borden is in fact two twin brothers, and that Angier goes to such lengths for revenge on Borden, potentially dying every night: the latter of these is positively existential. Yet the final prestige is that yes, Borden is judicially murdered, but his daughter still has her father. For Borden, there is hope. For spoilt rich boy Angier, there is only empty death.

It's even cleverer than it seems, with the structure of the whole thing and the foreshadowing- early on there is a trick with a bird being made to disappear, and the small boy realises that the way it's done is for one brother to die and be replaced by the other. Quite.

It's an entertaining film behind the cleverness, with a first rate main cast and a delightful supporting role from David Bowie himself. It is, naturally, exquisitely shot and written. The score by Thom Yorke is exquisite. And the film has understated but very real heart too. A triumph.

The BFG (2016)

“Dreams are so quick!”

“Yeah, on the outside. They’s long on the inside.”

I read the novel as a kid, of course. And I’ve seen (and blogged) the cartoon with David Jason. But nothing, aside from Roald Dahl’s original work of brilliance, can top this wonderful Spielbergian fairytale.

Spielberg seems to be evolving in his recent work; there are similarities between this and Ready Player One in the confident use of CGI which achieves spectacle without overdosing us in a CGI landscape, and the confident creation of a well-thought-out world- giant country is dark, yes, but also very fairytale, and the use of hand held cameras to show us Sophie’s point of view during the action sequences is deeply effective. Even the setting, the Britain of the early ‘80s with cars to match, is fairytale in its iconic use of London cityscapes, a London where all streets are cobbled, the only drinking establishments are traditional pubs and buses abound.

Mark Rylance is simply a triumph as an unusually melancholic BFG, as you’d expect, the definitive portrayal. Ruby Barnhill inhabits Sophie perfectly, and I’m glad to see she kept her native northern vowels. And Penelope Wilton is, of course, perfect casting for the Queen.

The tale is told with verve and economy, with a mildly melancholic ending and some extra little set pieces- I loved the scene with Fleshlumpeater (the splendid Jemaine Clement) using cars as roller skates. This is probably the definitive film of the splendid novel, and another fascinating example of late Spielberg, with his inspired ability to create successful CGI worldscapes which work.

Iron Man 3 (2013)

“Gods, aliens, other dimensions- I’m just a man in a can.”

 I rather liked this film the first time I saw it. And this time around it still struck me as well-directed, very much so in fact, well acted and characterised with Downey and Paltrow as superb as ever. And perhaps this time around the identity of the “Mandarin” was less of a surprise. But the film seems to be lacking something.

Perhaps it’s the lack of a real supervillain. Perhaps it’s the deliberately small scale of the film (compared to Tony’s last outing, at least) with his anxiety attacks in the wake of the events of The Avengers- which is actually a good character point, Tony Stark bring the kind of rich, powerful, arrogant type who needs vulnerabilities to remain sympathetic, although Downey’s huge charisma does a huge job on its own. But ultimately the film feels entertaining but, well, insubstantial by MCU standards. And it never quite convinces how he gives up all the armour at the end.

There are some very good bits. The twist with the Mandarin is brilliant, and Ben Kingsley gives us a superb comic turn, and the Mandarin videos themselves are a superb visual riff on the iconography if the “War on Terror” which feels oddly retro six years later. Guy Pearce is ok as Killian, although his accent slips in places. Don Cheadle further cements himself as a mainstay. And there’s a lot of fun with armour, and various bits of it. But this film is unexpectedly inconsequential. Even the post-credits sequence is a bit of a damp squib.

Frost/Nixon (2008)

”Hello, good evening and welcome!”

“I don’t actually say that...”

For all that Ron Howard is an unflashy director his style certainly works, and his work on bringing this excellent Peter Morgan stage play to cinema is the perfect example. Oh, its stage origins are certainly very obvious, but there’s nothing wrong with that. What matters is the extraordinary performances, with Michael Sheen once again perfectly inhabiting a real figure in the form of David Frost as we know he can, but just as much with the equally sublime Frank Langella, who may not look or sound like Nixon but, for the length of the film, simply is him.

The script is of course superb, bizarre though it is to see everyone’s least favourite BBC director general John Birt as a character in a film. The four interviews are treated and shown as though they were rounds in a boxing match; this film is the Rocky of political interviewing, always reminding us of Frost’s apolitical nature and light entertainment background. It makes for gripping viewing, with high stakes for everyone, and the time just flies by while watching. We see Frost genuinely struggle and Nixon’s confession, when it comes, feels both earned and deeply powerful. The film is a triumph.

Perhaps the true centre of the film, though, is Nixon’s drunken phone call to Frost and the huge chip on his shoulder about his class background that is revealed. Nixon was a fascinating man, a character of Shakespearean depths and an ambiguous legacy, certainly tragic, an introvert in an extroverted profession and, beneath it all, a human being. Sheen may be superb in playing the mannerisms of a talented but uncomplicated man, but Langella deserves real credit for conveying such fathomless depths.