The Greatest Trick

Nominated for best animated film at last years Oscars, French/Iranian Persepolis has been dubbed into English for its UK release. Ordinarily dubbing is something I detest, but since all animation is dubbed anyway, here it works well. At any rate, Persepolis is such a unique and vivid experience that any concerns one might have had at hearing the likes of Sean Penn or Catherine Deneuve impersonating Middle Eastern accents quickly evaporate (the whole cast do fine, incidentally).

The fascinating and poignant true story of Marjane Satrapi is told with stark simplicity by directors Vincent Paronnaud and Satrapi herself. It begins in 1970’s Iran, just before the fall of the Shah. “Marji” is a ten year old girl who idealistically dreams of revolution, and longs to be renowned as a prophet. But as she grows up, she witnesses first hand the worse tyranny of the Islamic fundamentalists who take over after the revolution. Eventually her parents send her to Europe in search of a better life, but Marji finds life there equally difficult as she encounters abrasive characters and men who break her heart. However, when she finally returns to Iran, she finds her homeland has changed beyond all recognition, and is unable to decide where she truly belongs.

Rendered almost entirely in bleak monochrome, Persepolis is yet more compelling evidence that animation is not solely for children. There are images here that will stay with the viewer forever – from the riot police in gas masks attempting to suppress revolutionary crowds to the snakelike burka clad religious fanatics who chastise Marji for wearing punk rock garb. Most memorable of all are the nightmarish war sequences that somehow manage to convey the horrors of the Iran/Iraq conflict more chillingly than any contemporary film I can think of, despite their brevity and lack of blood and gore. The alternative scene in Europe during the 1980s is also effectively depicted, particularly the foolish, self-appointed revolutionaries who actually do nothing but talk pretentious nonsense. More amusingly, when Marji goes through puberty, there is a very funny sequence which perfectly sums up how awkward this can be.

The undeniably dark events depicted throughout are seasoned by Marji’s perpetual good humour and immense likeability. Although she has a strong sense of right and wrong, she also has a cruel streak. One incident of childhood bullying, and another incident in later life where she maliciously gets an innocent man in trouble with the religious authorities, adds believability to her confused state of mind. She is far from perfect, but the “warts-and-all” approach makes her a genuinely fascinating character.

The relationship between Marji and her grandmother is central to the film, and as such provides some positive moral content. For example, Marji is told that bitterness and revenge is the worst possible path for a human to take. There is also valid political anger seething beneath the surface of the story – for example, in its depiction of the senseless Iran/Iraq war, and specifically a scathing condemnation of the West’s decision to supply arms to both sides. Best of all, the film unambiguously denounces religious legalism and oppression in the best possible way – through humour. One sequence where Marji purchases heavy metal music from furtive men who behave like drug dealers is absolutely hilarious.

Unfortunately, God, who appears to Marji in dreams, is depicted as a powerless irrelevancy that stands by unable to intervene in human affairs. As a result, humanistic thinking often is seen as the common sense answer to Marji’s problems. For example, when she is depressed at her failing marriage, her grandmother says not to worry because her first marriage is just practise for the second which will be much better.

Make no mistake, this is a remarkable film; an extraordinary work of art that pushes the boundaries of animation. It is essential viewing for anyone with a serious interest in cinema, and given the humour, drama and sadness contained herein, it is difficult to imagine any sensible person coming away unaffected. However, it is also a shame that Persepolis advocates secular humanism as a default answer to the world’s religious and political problems, and as such, from a spiritual perspective I must add that caveat of caution.

Simon Dillon, May 2008.

There was no artistic reason for Steven Spielberg and George Lucas to make a fourth Indiana Jones film. On the other hand, there was no artistic reason to make a second and third either. The only Indiana Jones film I actually consider a bona fide cinema classic is the first, Raiders of the Lost Ark. Its two sequels – Temple of Doom and Last Crusade – were great fun but weren’t up to the quality of the original. That said, they gained a special place in the hearts of cinema audiences in the 1980s, and that is why expectations for the fourth film are very high, even though equaling Last Crusade and Temple of Doom (the weakest installment) is actually not a particularly tall order. Unlike the Star Wars prequels, Indy 4 is not hamstrung by a pre-ordained plot, nor does it have to live up to three illustrious predecessors.

All of which brings me to the good news: Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull is better than Temple of Doom, and almost as good as Last Crusade. The action is updated to the 1950’s at the height of the Cold War, where the audience is immediately re-introduced (via a nifty silhouette) to an older, lonelier Indiana Jones. Harrison Ford still looks the part, but it’s clear, as he says in his own words that “this isn’t as easy as it used to be”.

After an absolutely stunning opening sequence involving Area 51 and a nuclear weapon, Indy is suspended from his teaching position under suspicion of being a communist sympathizer. Enter Mutt Williams (Shia LaBeouf), who zooms up on his motorbike looking like James Dean from The Wild One. He tells Indy that his mother has been kidnapped by Russian agents searching for a mythical Crystal Skull, which supposedly has power to bestow infinite knowledge on whoever returns it to a lost city somewhere in the Amazon.

The plot is, of course, total nonsense, but its nonsense with a hint of truth. Previously, the only Indiana Jones film with a genuinely fascinating object at the centre of its quest was the first, with the Ark of the Covenant. In the sequels, the Sankara Stones and Holy Grail were both a bit weak. However, there have been genuine Crystal Skulls discovered, and the technology that created them is still a mystery to those who have studied them. All of which makes the Stargate-esque baggage associated with them here not as silly as it first appears.

Steven Spielberg’s return to his earlier, more popular filmmaking sensibilities, is by and large a triumphant one, especially in his insistence on using real stunt work and as little CGI as possible. He maintains the look and feel of the originals, but updates the rough 1930’s Republic serial style with a more polished, pastel-hued 1950’s sheen. The late cinematographer Douglas Slocombe is replaced by Spielberg’s now regular collaborator Janusz Kaminski, who admitted that in order to imitate Slocombe, he had to learn a whole new style which stands in direct contrast to his usual burnt out imagery.

The previously mentioned nuclear bomb opening is edge of the seat stuff, especially in a wonderfully eerie moment when Indy enters a town, only to discover it’s full of mannequins and mock up buildings designed to assess the impact of the atomic energy. The penny quickly drops when he realizes he is inside the blast radius with less than a minute to detonation. Elsewhere, all elements of the Indy formula are present and correct. Supernatural treasure? Tick. Travelogue maps? Tick. Double dealing sidekicks? Tick. Spectacular vehicular chases? Tick. Secret tunnels filled with booby traps? Tick. Creepy crawlies? Tick. At least one full-on horror movie moment? Tick.

Harrison Ford is as good as ever in the lead. Having aged gracefully, his older Indy is a more melancholy figure, but still with the same weaknesses. LaBeouf, who is inexplicably hated by various internet film nerds, makes a fine sidekick. Villain duties are undertaken with relish by Cate Blanchett as a psychic (and psychotic) Russian agent. Jim Broadbent, John Hurt and Ray Winstone do very well with somewhat underwritten roles, and Karen Allen makes a welcome return as Marion, Indy’s girlfriend from the original film.

David Koepp’s screenplay (based on George Lucas’ story) is good, and provides another variation on the usual Spielberg theme of disintegrated families. On a technical level visual and sound effects are first rate, and the peerless John Williams contributes yet another brilliant music score, combining new and old themes to superb effect.

There are underlying moral messages are about redemption, the importance of family and the dangers of greed and knowledge for knowledge’s sake. SPOILER WARNING AHEAD: From a spiritual perspective the portrayal of the aliens is interestingly ambiguous as to whether or not they are good or evil. Archaeologists have frequently been baffled by places like the Giza pyramid and Mayan cities, and aliens are often cited as possibly being responsible. Of course, the Bible alludes to half fallen angel half human entities in various places (for example in Genesis chapter 6) and it seems likely that these beings were worshipped as gods. If they were today mistaken for aliens, it could be down to years of Hollywood movies and UFO stories permeating human consciousness, which begs the question of how much of a co-incidence this all is. Is mankind is being slowly conditioned for a great deception? Possibly. Does this mean Christians shouldn’t watch films about aliens? Of course they can, but it is interesting how many non-Christians who reject the notion of a Christian God embrace the notion of UFOs and aliens.

However, it’s doubtful most audiences, Christian or otherwise, will think about such things whilst viewing this immensely entertaining movie. Unlike Raiders of the Lost Ark, this is not the greatest adventure film ever made, but if you enjoyed Temple of Doom and Last Crusade, you will certainly enjoy this.

Simon Dillon, May 2008.

The silly season begins with Iron Man, an amiable slice of mindless nonsense that evaporates from memory almost as the closing credits roll. Based on the Marvel comic from the 1960’s, the plot concerns Howard Hughes-esque weapons manufacturing billionaire Tony Stark, who has a crisis of conscience when discovering his products have fallen into the wrong hands. He then transforms himself – via a nifty robotic metal flying suit – into a superhero. Incidentally, the comic book was originally set during Vietnam, but has been cannily updated to the present, so the initial action, and the catalyst for Stark’s transformation, occurs in Afghanistan.

Performances are all reasonable, especially from Robert Downey Jr, who seems to be enjoying himself immensely. He correctly interprets his eccentric character as someone who really enjoys the thrill of being a superhero, rather than an angst ridden figure like Batman, and as such elevates the film above its predictable “origin story” plot. Gwyneth Paltrow is fine as a sort-of love interest/assistant, particularly in her evident disdain for Stark’s womanising. When one of Stark’s conquests asks about her job whilst being escorted out of his mansion, she replies acidly “Sometimes I take out the trash”. Elsewhere, Terrence Howard makes a good fist of put upon military bigwig Jim Rhodes, and finally Jeff Bridges has an enjoyable if throwaway role as the villain.

Director Jon Favreau keeps things fast-paced and slick, and it goes without saying that the special effects and action scenes are spectacular. The screenplay is consistently engaging and amusing, if obvious and predictable. It even briefly threatens to have serious undertones about the morality of arms dealing, before letting the audience off the hook and unleashing the requisite mayhem.

In short, this isn’t a film that will win awards, but its fun, brain-in-neutral summer fodder, and a worthy opener to the blockbuster season.

Simon Dillon, May 2008.