The Greatest Trick

Clint Eastwood has had an unprecedented run of superb films this decade, both in front of the camera, and behind it. This is all the more extraordinary given that very few directors produce such consistently fine work in their autumn years. His latest, Changeling is a remarkable story that would be unbelievable if it weren’t true.

In 1928, young mother Christine Collins (Angelina Jolie) reported to the LA police that her young son Walter had gone missing. A few months later, after an extensive search, the police told her they had found her son, but on meeting him at the railway station, she immediately claimed he was not her son, even though the boy claimed he was. Her suspicions were confirmed when she discovered the boy the police had returned was three inches shorter than Walter. However, the police refused to admit a mistake had been made or that the boy was lying.

To say anymore about the story would spoil it for those unfamiliar with the case, suffice to say Changeling is hugely gripping tale. Eastwood’s assured, deceptively simple directing proves yet again that he is one of the great masters of American cinema. The sense of time and place is impeccable, and Eastwood even opens the film with the original Universal logo from the same time period. His familiar themes of justice and revenge seem as fresh here as they are in any of his best work (Unforgiven for instance), but this is the second time in recent years that he has tackled the emotive issue of child abductions. 2003’s excellent Mystic River provides the ideal companion piece to this film.

As the film progresses, one really senses Eastwood seething with anger at the monumental injustices inflicted both on Christine Collins and the abducted children. Both the massively corrupt police department and the individual responsible for the abductions are never allowed even an iota of sympathy, and in the context of Changeling this is absolutely correct. Incidentally, I doubt Clint Eastwood cares for films that also give the killer’s side of the story like In Cold Blood or Dead Man Walking (I do, by the way).

The real star of the film is Angelina Jolie, who gives an extraordinary performance as a timid woman who, paraphrasing her own words, doesn’t start the fight, but makes sure she finishes it. When not making silly films like Wanted, Jolie has proved a remarkable actress (in last years A Mighty Heart for instance). Here she is so good she warrants an Oscar nomination at the very least.

The supporting cast are all excellent too, particularly John Malkovitch as the Reverend Gustav Briegleb who comes to the defence of Christine. It is particularly gratifying to see such a positive portrayal of a Christian in Gustav, a man who really stands up for the oppressed and directs his crusade against the corrupt LAPD with a stirring righteous anger. Jeffrey Donovan is very good as Captain Jones, who personifies the diabolical corruption in the police. Michael Kelly also provides good support as sympathetic police detective Lester Ybarra – the one good apple in a rotten barrel.

Of course, this is by nature a dark, upsetting film, and occasionally a little right wing for my taste (inevitable with Eastwood at the helm). That said it is also a riveting true story brilliantly directed and ultimately one that promotes justice and hope amid terrible tragedy. For some, this will not be enough to offset the bleakness, especially given the responsibly handled but brutal violence and strong language (all of which is contextually justified in my opinion). However, for me, Changeling is one of the best films of the year and a terrific entry in the recent Clint canon.

Simon Dillon, November 2008.

It’s rather odd to have watched two brainwashing films in one week - you might watch two war films, or two comedies, but two movies about brainwashing? That’s weird. Perhaps there’s someone secretly manipulating our Tesco DVD Rental list, with some sinister purpose that we haven’t yet worked out. Perhaps it’s a warning to be on our guard for people saying odd phrases - just in case we start losing bits of our memories…

Anyway, this Woody Allen effort, set in 1940, centres on a pair of insurance investigators, played by Allen himself (as usual - the romantic lead!) and Helen Hunt, who become unwittingly involved with a jewel thief after a visit to a hypnotism show one night. Most of the comedy, which isn’t really all that much to be honest, comes from the interplay between the two leads, who hate each other with a venom they continually express in the most expressive terms, in an attempt to pay homage to classic male-female sparring movies, such as His Girl Friday or Bringing Up Baby (hmm, both with Cary Grant - Allen doesn’t even come close to being close).

The story is watchable enough, but there is no mystery for the audience, and it has a very irritatingly repetitive jazz score - the Allen influence again. Frankly I found Hunt annoying, the eventual romance of the piece unconvincing, and both the leads miscast really. If Allen’s ego allowed him to direct someone else for once, he might start making a few half-decent movies (I’m no expert, but in recent years I don’t recall any of his movies lighting up either box offices or reviews pages). There’s better stuff out there, but at least it wasn’t as repulsive as Allen’s earlier Deconstructing Harry. Avoid that at all costs.

The Manchurian Candidate was originally made in 1962, and starred Frank Sinatra as Captain Ben Marco, recently returned from the Korean War and troubled by strange dreams which lead him to question what actually happened when his platoon was ambushed. It touched on interesting subjects, such as brainwashing and the anti-Communist paranoia prevalent at the time, and was an effective thriller, if not exactly the most world-shattering movie event. This remake updates the setting to the Gulf War, but loses most of the interest along the way.

Marco, played this time by Denzel Washington, is suffering from strange dreams and the general feeling that things aren’t right. This is due to the fact that Raymond Shaw, former army buddy and winner of Congressional Medal of Honour for single-handedly saving their platoon during an ambush, is about to become Vice-President (manoeuvred into position by his mother, played by a grand-standing and scenery-chewing Meryl Streep). As Marco investigates his plight, and the events surrounding the ambush, it becomes clear that what he thinks happened is not the whole truth, and that he has to get to Shaw, who seems much less aware that his past is largely fabricated.

The problem is that we just don’t care enough. There are elements of the story that are supposed to be plot twists, or at least moderately surprising, but they just aren’t because of how the plot is set up in the first 40 minutes or so. In fact, from the moment that the viewer meets the three or four central characters, it is totally obvious what has happened in Kuwait several years ago, and the steps that have been taken to get where they are today. Washington is, as ever, dependable (read: dull), and Liev Schreiber as Shaw does a perfectly good job, but doesn’t really have a great deal to get his teeth into (unlike Marco at the end of the scene where they eat and chat together - about the only spark of surprise I felt while watching!) Meryl Streep was pretty unbelievable most of the time, from the patriotic yelling to the creepily intimate scenes, and the climax of the film, which was where the original really racked up the tension, was just lame and predictable. The most interesting thing about it, especially given the events of the past few weeks, is how it showed the circus-like nature of American politics, and how showbizzy it all is.

It felt too long, and yet at the same time was too quick to get into solving the central mystery - there was not enough distress for Washington before the pieces started to come together. And frankly, there was not enough distress for the viewer either - I felt totally distanced from the action and mostly bored. By some miracle I didn’t actually fall asleep, but maybe that’s more to do with watching it at a decent time of the evening! In terms of violence, there is some - some of the characters’ brainwashing is used to assassinate others - but other than that there is little to offend. Little to recommend it with, either.

Based Stefan Aust’s best selling book, this is an edgy, compelling if somewhat flawed look at Germany’s radical left wing terrorist group the Red Army Faction (RAF) which organized bombings, robberies, kidnappings and assassinations in the late 1960s and 70s. Its leaders, Ulrike Meinhof and Andreas Baader, remain two of Germany’s most notorious and sometimes glamorised terrorists. It was inevitable that a film would eventually emerge about their organisation.

Thankfully, The Baader Meinhof Complex goes a long way to debunk the mythology that sprung up around the RAF, both at the time and subsequently. The hypocrisy, ignorance and in some cases ineptitude of those involved is made abundantly clear. In one amusing sequence, Andreas steals a wallet, only to then be furious as someone steals his car directly afterwards (which isn’t even his car). More seriously, when they visit a Palestinian terrorist camp for training, their motivation for robbing banks (expropriating the money in the name of the people) is exposed for the selfishness it really is, especially since the Palestinians are fighting a genuine war. On the subject of Palestine, any sympathy I might have had with the RAF cause (which wouldn’t have been much) was immediately lost early in the film when Ulrike began to spout the usual ill-informed right-on gibberish about the Palestinian cause and their fight to “get their land back” (it was never theirs, but I won’t go into that here – Google my Munich review for that axe-grind if you are so inclined). Incidentally, it is implied that the same terrorists the RAF get their training from are those that carry out the 1972 Munich Olympic massacres of the Israeli team.

On the other hand, the film is at great pains to point out through documentary footage of other turbulent political events of the time (the Vietnam War, the Kennedy/Martin Luther King assassinations, the French/Algerian conflict and so forth) that there were terrible injustices that warranted people speaking up. A short sequence at the start of the film sees a peaceful protest against a visit by the Shah turn violent when the Shah’s entourage of “supporters” turn against the German crowd and attack them. The German protesters expect the police to protect them, only for them to join in with the attack against them. I am not sure if this riot was apocryphal, but if is intended to generate a modicum of sympathy for the RAF then it doesn’t go far enough.

Director Uli Edel was no doubt attempting to create an even handed picture with the uncompromising clarity of the riveting 1967 film The Battle of Algiers, but instead it just feels messy. The screenplay is episodic in its determination to include so much history, leading to a clumsily abrupt end. By refusing to offer any easy answers, audiences end up emotionally aloof.

On the plus side, the cast are all excellent. Moritz Bliebtrau, Johana Wokalek and especially Martina Gedeck (as superb here as she was in The Lives of Others) all contribute fearless performances. The film has a restless, gritty energy and pace to match the most frenzied of Hollywood offerings in this genre (one thinks of Oliver Stone’s JFK for instance). Cinematographer Rainer Klausmann seems to actively seek the next object to hurtle his camera into, and Alexander Berner’s editing is effectively sharp.

From a moral perspective, The Baader Meinhof Complex is to be commended for one thing: exposing the folly of self-appointed revolutionaries for what it really is. Yet there is a modicum of ambivalence in this revelation in that despite their many faults, these terrorist organisations succeed in their desire to bring their political causes to the attention of the authorities. One can almost admire them for this, since they didn’t settle for the apathy of a bystander. Almost.

Then one remembers the atrocities they committed in carrying out their objectives. For instance, bombing US military bases based in Germany in retaliation for Vietnam, hijacking a Lufthansa flight and most hypocritically, bombing a right wing newspaper, undermining their own arguments about freedom of speech. Such heinous acts remain completely unjustifiable, and are rightly deserving of the strongest condemnation. Spiritually, the film offers no answers whatsoever, and it is full to the brim with sex, violence, nudity and very strong language. Such content is clearly not intended to be there for titillation but it isn’t always necessary either.

In short; a provocative, but frustratingly mixed bag.

Simon Dillon, November 2008.

The brilliant Casino Royale, which just gets better with every viewing, was always going to be a tough act to follow. It casts a long shadow over Quantum of Solace, and it doesn’t help matters that the film is a direct sequel. This is the first time the Bond films have ever taken this approach. There is a brief mention of Dr No in From Russia with Love but both are completely self contained films, these aren’t.

Casting an equally long, and frankly unhelpful, shadow over the film is the Bourne franchise. Whilst it is fair to say the Bourne films were influential in a positive way on Casino Royale, frankly I’m not so certain in this case. The Bourne films are a distinct and unique in their own right, whereas Bond needs to be Bond and frankly, in this film, he needed to lighten up a little.

That said there are still moments of humour in this darker, tougher entry in the series. It’s not the most violent Bond film (Licence to Kill still has that dubious honour), but it’s certainly more vicious than usual. The plot concerns Bond attempting to track down those responsible for Vesper Lynd’s death, and in doing so uncovers the sinister Quantum organization. The trail leads to one of its operatives, Dominic Greene (Mathieu Almaric), an environmentalist businessman who is also being investigated by Camille (Olga Kurylenko), out for revenge for reasons of her own.

The screenplay by Paul Haggis, Neal Purvis and Robert Wade feels as though it could have done with another polish, and I wonder whether or not the writers strike affected the production of the film. It’s interesting that directly following the longest ever Bond film (Casino Royale) was the shortest (Quantum clocks in at a trim 106 minutes). Yet bizarrely it doesn’t feel short. That doesn’t mean it isn’t good, but the plot is somewhat confused. Director Marc Forster, best known for low key dramas like Monsters Ball, is a fairly solid choice of helmsman, but not all the action scenes convince. For instance, the opening car chase fails to raise the same excitement as, say, the crane chase/fight in Casino Royale. Even when the action scenes do work, they often recall the Bourne franchise too much. An exciting roof top chase keeps bringing to mind a similar chase in The Bourne Ultimatum. To be fair, that chase was over flat roofs, whereas these roofs have tiles that slip and slide dangerously. Perhaps the filmmakers felt this made it sufficiently different.

On the plus side, Daniel Craig is excellent in the role, and as far as I’m concerned he’s the best since Sean Connery. Supporting roles aren’t bad either, especially Olga Kurylenko, Judi Dench (M) Giancarlo Giannini (Mathis, reprising his role from the previous film) and Jeffrey Wright (Felix Leiter). Gemma Arterton’s part is amusing but pointless, although it does culminate in a neat Goldfinger homage.

Another brief point on the music: the Alicia Keys/Jack White title track has received a lot of flak, but after a few listens, its not quite as terrible as I first thought. The rest of David Arnold’s score is good too.

In short, this is an average Bond film, but it’s still better than the entire Pierce Brosnan era. Besides, for all its flaws, one can’t really miss a Bond film and this one still entertains.

Simon Dillon, November 2008.