On Feeling Cold with the Coen Brothers and True Grit

The Coen brothers decided a long time ago that they weren’t going to make a bad film. From Blood Simple (1984) to their newest film True Grit (2010), everything has been instantly watchable and full of memorable characters and dialogue. In these 26 years they’ve even managed to create some future classics; Miller’s Crossing (1990) and Fargo (1996) being the two that recurrently stand out.

Often their films look at those areas of society slightly left of normal. Their characters are the same, all with unique idiosyncrasies that the Coen’s subtlety highlights so well. No one creates realistic and at the same time abstract worlds populated with such unique characters as well as the Coen brothers. The above statement illustrates an oxymoron, yet so many of their characters are similarly incongruous. Fargo’s Marge Gunderson, a pregnant police office hunting serial killers or Burn After Reading’s bumbling, sex craved Harry Pfarrer.

The nature of their films, their worlds and their characters has resulted in an inimitable directorial style. The Coen’s observe the worlds they create. They penetrate the under and upper classes of these worlds and develop several layers, but they never let us become part of that world; we are never asked to put ourselves in the place of the characters. We can watch and visit, but are not allowed or invited to stay. Like the Coen brothers, we are voyeurs, visitors only to the theatre on show. As memorable as their characters are, their style results in emotional detachment. This is usually not an issue as their worlds are best visited only. However, in True Grit we have the most straightforward of Coen films. There are no double crosses or mistaken identities, just a simple, linear narrative with their usual deft handling of character. Unlike other films though the lead character, Mattie Ross (Hailee Steinfeld) is a character worth investing more of our emotion in; her father, recently killed, weighs on her mind as she hunts his killer while unknowingly seeking a surrogate father in the shape of a soon to be extinct cowboy. Like all Coen films, True Grit does not ask us to connect on a deep level with the characters and can leave us feeling cold. It is a shame because here, the characters of Ross and Jeff Bridges’ Rooster Cogburn take great steps together throughout the film.

True Grit is a wonderfully acted and directed story full of recognisable Coen traits. It is a western full of the genre’s conventions and fits into and compliments the Coen canon. If it leaves us feeling cold at the end, this is only because the Coen’s are letting us visit and not inviting us to stay.

On Adaptations with Never Let Me Go

It is widely stated and widely agreed upon that cinematic adaptations from novels are never as good as the book. This is not a controversial statement. Novels are personal and implicit. Cinema, while being able to affect audiences on a personal level is experienced collectively. Cinema also tends to be explicit owing to its time constraints.

Kazuo Ishiguro’s Never Let Me Go was published in 2005 and shortlisted for the Man Booker prize. Six years later, Ishiguro’s novel has been adapted by director Mark Romanek and writer Alex Garland, also a celebrated author (The Beach published in 1996). Never Let Me Go tells the story of Hailsham School, located in the English countryside and home to some very unique children. Students of Hailsham are clones with the purpose of becoming donors in their adult life. They stay at Hailsham until age 18 when they are sent into the world for a brief opportunity at a ‘normal’ life before being called upon for their first donation. By their third or fourth donation, they complete; a euphemistic term for dying.

This is a topic which raises many moral and ethical questions, which do not need to be expanded upon here. What is remarkable about Ishiguro’s novel is the subtlety with which this subject is handled. The obliqueness of the future for these children is dealt with so straightforwardly that it is difficult, at first, to comprehend the esteem in which this novel is held. It is only later when the novel has really been absorbed that questions of your own mortality start to emerge and the emotion of the story, at first hidden behind a frank and uncomplicated first person narrative, is felt. The greatest achievement of this adaptation is in transferring this same experience to the screen.

Garland (a close friend of Ishiguro’s and chosen by the author to adapt his novel) makes many changes, yet keeps the novel’s three part structure. The first act at Hailsham does feel rushed and whereas in the book we are given time ourselves to discover and uncover clues as to the reason for Hailsham, the film chooses to deal with this in one brief expository scene. Yet, the changes are mostly appropriate for the switch in medium; tightening the story without losing much of what is necessary. Importantly, Romanek has cast perfectly. Carey Mulligan as the lead and narrator, Kathy, carries the weight and emotion of the story with a quiet elegance. Keira Knightley as her manipulative friend, Ruth, strikes the perfect balance between bitchiness and regret. (In the fact, the only real misstep in the adaptation is the removal of the origins behind Kathy and Ruth’s friendship at Hailsham and the calculating way in which Ruth controls Kathy and their friendship group. Including this in the early scenes would help inform the characters’ issues that arise later). Andrew Garfield (the best thing about The Social Network, 2010) is Tommy and brings so much to this character that he adds to the depiction in the novel.

Romanek and Garland’s second most significant achievement is in implicitly stating the delicate and contentious subject matter. The science-fiction element of Never Let Me Go is treated as such a commonplace matter that it never threatens to overshadow the characters and the tragic love story that slowly develops. The donations, the completions, even their purpose in being is handled with so little melodrama that when the film ends the same underwhelming feeling is experienced. The question of how much feeling do these characters really have for each other would not be out of place, but there is a deep and real emotion here. One that is unspoken, and that exists between the lines. It takes time to really appreciate the subtlety at work here. As with the novel, the weight that this story carries is in the question we ask ourselves of the value of life. Never Let Me Go is a unique and powerful love story that says far more than it appears to.

On Seeing Brighton Rock for the First Time

Published in 1938, Brighton Rock became the novel that Graham Greene would be remembered best for. By 1947 the book had been adapted into a feature film staring Richard Attenborough in the lead role as Pinkie Brown and directed by John Boulting. An adaptation of the book, not a remake of the film is how Rowan Joffe (writer and director) describes his Brighton Rock. With Joffe’s adaptation as first exposure to Greene’s story, it is unlikely to earn it any more fans. Brighton Rock is not an enjoyable film and the fault appears to lie with the script and direction.

This is Joffe’s first feature film as a director, yet his work on other films as a writer suggests he should understand narrative and character development better than he displays here. (Joffe adapted The American. See 2^nd December 2010). Our main characters are Pinkie and Rose. We meet Pinkie (Sam Riley) as the lower rung of a gang. With three other gang members ahead of him, Pinkie is used as a pick pocket. In the first instance we witness him attempt to intimidate, he is easily emasculated and obviously scared. It is therefore confusing when we next meet Pinkie and he has decided to become the gang leader and has somewhere found a confidence and level of violence that usually take years to acquire. Even stranger is the previously hardened gang leader’s willingness to acquiesce his leadership and be bullied by Pinkie. The other two gang members also inexplicably fall in line behind the now unpleasant Pinkie.

Rose (Andrea Riseborough) is the hapless, unknowing target of Pinkie’s, whom he decides to keep close rather than kill. Again, this goes unexplained; he kills at other times. Rose, who we meet as a shy waitress, is immediately taken by Pinkie despite his clear lack of interest in her. In fact, the direction that Riley is given (to permanently look angry) makes it utterly incomprehensible that Rose would continually refuse to see Pinkie’s true motives, despite his clear hatred of her; she even marries him. Essentially, the relationship between Pinkie and Rose, the key characters of the story, is completely unbelievable and the lack of and seemingly illogical character development is frustrating. Unfortunately this lack of attention to character and narrative defines every character and most scenes. It appears that Joffe has taken his favourite aspects of the book and put them on screen without any consideration for those new to the story. It does not help that Joffe is a heavy handed director without any awareness of subtlety. Thunder crashes and lights go out as bad news is delivered; the religious aspects are not so much embedded into the story as thrown on screen as cheap symbolism.

There is clearly a strong narrative here. Greene’s book would not have endured so long if there weren’t. The cast is also strong. However, any elements of suspense, danger or believability are drowned out by incoherent film making.

On Inaccuracies and Boxing in The Fighter

Guest review by Mohammed Al-Amin

Mark Wahlberg stars in David O. Russell’s The Fighter as Micky Ward. A popular, former light-welterweight boxing contender known for his exciting ring brawls and wicked left hook to the body. Micky Ward grew up in the rough, crack riddled times of Lowell, Massachusetts and is the half brother of former fighter and crack addict Dickie Eklund, famed for his 10 round decision loss to modern boxing great Sugar Ray Leonard.

Boxing films always seem to over-dramatise the sport, from Raging Bull to Ali, filmmakers have been turning up the action to make these films more ‘big screen’ friendly. However these days, it is difficult to do this and get away with it in these seemingly non-fictional, cut and paste portrayals since the actual fights and boxer’s records are available to anyone with a keyboard and internet connection.

The Fighter is no exception to over-dramatisation and this is to be expected although in some instances, these inaccuracies seem to be there for no reason whatsoever.

Frustratingly, the film pays great attention to detail in some instances. Such as Ward’s name being spelled incorrectly on his trunks early on in his career as ‘Mickey’ and having his trainer Mickey O’Keefe appear as himself adds some legitimacy. The film is also shot and based in Micky Ward’s hometown of Lowell, Massachusetts which gives it an authentic feel.

Christian Bale is brilliant as Ward’s half brother and trainer Dickie Eklund. If his performance comes across as over the top, have a look for the Rich Farrell filmed HBO documentary, High On Crack Street: The Lost Lives of Lowell which is seen to be filmed in the movie’s opening scene and referred to throughout. This documentary followed Dickie Eklund and some other subjects around the rough streets of Lowell and shows Eklund at the height of his addiction, with his delusional proclamations that HBO are making a movie for his ring comeback. Bale shines throughout with his believable and at times disturbingly accurate take on the unforgettable and intriguing character of Eklund. Torn between his crack addiction and responsibilities as a trainer to his half brother Micky.

Early in his fighting career, Ward was victim of police brutality (refuted by Lowell police officers of course) while trying to break up a scuffle Eklund had got involved in outside of Lowell’s infamous Cosmopolitan Cafe. Following this incident, Micky’s decision to take up the services of Lowell police officer and boxing trainer Mickey O’Keefe, during his brother’s imprisonment, was seen as a strange and unwelcome move to Micky’s immediate family and witnesses at the scene. A dislike for O’Keefe from Ward’s family is depicted throughout The Fighter but the reasons are not portrayed successfully, leaving the viewer to believe that this dislike of O’Keefe was merely due to jealousy.

The fight scenes are well shot and in some parts true to reality, with the Sanchez fight being the closest to the real thing, although O. Russell, while doing a good job, fails to portray how bizarre the fight really was. Real HBO commentary of the fights are a welcome addition with Wahlberg’s physique (although too big for the real Ward who was a light-welterweight whereas Wahlberg looks more like a super-middle) and movement are reminiscent of the real Ward.

Boxing purists will be quick to point out the aforementioned inaccuracies, inconsistencies and in some cases untruths in the movie. There is an emphasis of Ward being outweighed by 20 pounds in his fight with Mungin. At the time of the real fight, Ward weighed in at 136.5 and Mungin at 145, an 8.5 pound difference. Ward never fought a middleweight as viewers are led to believe. Ward is also seen as taking a terrible beating, in reality the fight went the full ten rounds with Mungin winning by a very narrow margin.

The head-scratching moment of the movie, comes in a montage that mentions a number of Ward opponents: Hernandez, Manetti and Collins. Ward never fought anyone by those names. What was the point of this? Micky Ward had a total of 51 professional fights, why fabricate opponents when you have more than enough names to choose from? This can be excused as it’s a fleeting moment in the film that gets the point across that Micky Ward had a string of successful comeback fights against unknown opposition before the Sanchez upset.

The Fighter makes a big deal out of Ward’s fight with Neary being for the world title. In reality, it was for the WBU (World Boxing Union) title. No one considers the WBU titleholder to be the true world champion. Neary, who fought exclusively in the UK and Ireland, won the vacant WBU strap by defeating Darryl Tyson, who ‘earned’ his shot at the title by getting stopped by Oscar De La Hoya in two rounds. Neither Ward nor Neary were ever recognised as legitimate world champions during their careers.

The movie shows Ward being knocked down in the third round whereas Ward was never down during the Neary fight. Incorrect career records and weights of Ward and Neary are examples of strange inaccuracies that do nothing to add to the movie’s drama.

How Ward’s title shot to Neary came about is also incorrect in that the film makes it seem that he earned his right to fight for Neary’s title following his upset of Alfonso Sanchez when in reality, Ward fought for the WBU title three years and several fights later. Although this kind of oversight is to be expected as covering all of Ward’s fights would make the film far too long.

Regrettably, the film ends before Ward’s career defining trilogy against the late Arturo Gatti. These fights, especially the first of the series (voted as Fight of The Century by boxing fans and writers of Ring Magazine) earned Ward worldwide recognition and would not require any over-dramatisation if depicted in a motion picture. In fact, this trilogy can be made into a movie without any additions or mention of either fighter’s personal background and it will make for exciting and dramatic cinema. Ward and Gatti spending time in the emergency room after their first encounter and becoming good friends as a result of this is something for the ages. The fact that O’Russell completely omits this and arguably the most memorable round of the trilogy (the ninth round of the first fight) is disappointing.

Boxing purists may cry foul at the inconsistencies of Ward’s record, weight and opponents however the film is merely ‘based’ on a true story and is not supposed to get it all right. Much like Ron Howard’s Cinderella Man, some of the changes are puzzling and do not add to the excitement of the movie if they were portrayed correctly. Unlike Cinderella Man, the changes and omissions in The Fighter do not hurt Ward’s story and the overall unravelling of events in the film are genuine.

Where The Fighter fails in the accuracy of recounting the boxing career of Micky Ward, it succeeds in its gritty display of the harsh events that occurred during Ward’s rise to recognition as one of the true warriors of the modern era of Boxing. It also succeeds in its portrayal of Ward’s close yet turbulent relationship with Eklund and the battle he faced with his family’s involvement in his professional and personal life.

If you want a truly non-fictional take of Micky Ward’s life and ring accomplishments then read Bob Halloran’s mesmerising recount of Ward’s achievements in Irish Thunder: The Hard Life and Times of Micky Ward. Whereas The Fighter is to be enjoyed as a decent depiction of the hardships faced by Ward outside of the ring during his dramatic career.