On the Immersion of Fury

Up to this point, David Ayer’s directing career (five films from 2005 to now) has focused strictly on the world of the police. Whether uniformed partners, undercover agents or tough police crews that mirror the criminals, his investigations of the police have been identifiable by their stylised dialogue and sense of accuracy in representing the closed off world of law enforcement. With Fury the same could be said (or at least, said from what we know from other representations), but of the Second World War.

In one-way Fury is a major departure for Ayer. A period piece set in Europe and about the army, not the police force. Yet, one main auteur like feature remains and this is Ayer’s focus on the world of men and masculine relationships. This is not to say that women do not exist, but as in End of Watch (2012) they are objects of sex (sinners) or marriage (saints) and the latter mourn the aggressive but necessary roles the men must live out.

Whether as a writer or director, or both, Ayer has pigeonholed himself as a man who writes dialogue that explores the close heterosexual relationships of men. At its best, this dialogue brings the films to life and this can be seen in much of Training Day (2001) and End of Watch where the narratives can be confused in their complexity. Unfortunately, Fury is unable to match the dialogue success of these previous films perhaps simply because this is not an examination of two close men, but five. Characters here feel not quite fully fleshed out. The lead, Brad Pitt’s Don Collier, moves between sheer, nasty aggression to moments of sensitivity and these are connected by brief moments of tormented isolation. But this cannot quite do the job of explaining who this man is, despite the effective performance. This is a problem that is present for all five tank operators.

Instead, it could be argued that Ayer’s true achievement in his directorial canon is in creating immersive worlds, foreign to most audiences. End of Watch offered a frightening realistic portrait of life in a tough LA area; Ayer’s real locations close up camera work and focus on brutality was an experience hard to forget. And it is this that one takes away from Fury. Ayer shuns the modern warfare aesthetic to create a world that feels like 1945 war torn Germany. The battles are horrifically real and the casualties graphically captured. The mud is sinking and is almost real and this immersion is where Fury’s triumph lies. This is a worthy addition to the Second World War canon. 

On Gone Girl

David Fincher’s feature film CV is impressive and diverse and would be the envy of many filmmakers. From contributing to a major sci-fi collection with Alien 3 (1992) through to Seven (1995) and Fight Club (1999) which will both, in time, be classics of their respective genres and of American cinema in general. Zodiac (2007) was a lesson in creepiness, The Social Network (2010) in biography and the icily cold The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo (2011) in remakes and adaptations. To further show off Fincher oversaw House of Cards (2013 -), a TV show that broke the forth wall and was the better for it. That shouldn’t work, but Fincher did it.

All directors have blips on their CVs and maybe some would say that Fincher’s was Panic Room (2002) or The Curious Case of Benjamin Button (2008), which was cold when it should have been heart warming. But both of these films displayed excellent technical achievements. Time may well show that Gone Girl, Fincher’s adaptation of the hugely popular novel in his blip and hopefully one he quickly recovers from.

A quality of all of Fincher’s films to date has been his ability to fit complicated characters into realistic environments. In Gone Girl Fincher presents cartoonish, exaggerated characters that have no place in his films. The environment is an unimpressive representation of suburbia that feels straight out of Desperate Housewives (2004 – 2012), which at least knew it was camp and hammy. Gone Girl takes itself seriously, yet belongs on Channel 5. The casting doesn’t fit (why they have Neil Patrick Harris playing a straight version of the same comedic role he plays in How I Met Your Mother (2005 – 2014) is baffling), but simply the characters are all unpleasant. There is no one to root for, no one to enjoy and the narrative is twisting and turning all the time, but failing to do the simple things right.

The best examples of twists are those that are there the whole way through the film, yet cleverly distracted us so the reveal is both surprising and intelligible. The Usual Suspects (1995), Shutter Island (2010) and Fincher's own Fight Club (1999) do this very well. Bad twists, of which Gone Girl is a perfect example, are those that do something so ridiculous and then turn to the audience and say, 'I bet you didn't see that coming.' This isn't smart nor is it appealing. That Gone Girl contains such as twist is one thing, that the message is that marriage is a tale of two sides is patronising. 

It is incomprehensibly poor and like Ridley Scott’s The Counsellor (2013), disappointing because of the talent involved. Like its characters Gone Girl is masquerading as something it isn’t, a piece of quality filmmaking.

On '71

British rule in Ireland and the IRA is a complex subject that occasionally rears its brutal head in film and previous to ’71 most recently in the excellent Shadow Dancer (2012) and Hunger (2008). The former dealt quite directly with the larger issues in a more general manner, while the latter focused on a very specific issue. Both explored the question of Irish devolution and were, in their own ways, unafraid to delve into the brutality of the long-standing war.

Yann Demange’s ’71 is a welcome addition to the canon and, while focusing upon the very specific issue of a soldier trapped on the wrong side of line, makes far larger statements about terrorism, the role of invasion and the political secrecy surrounding war. These statements are all boldly and vividly made. Occasionally this results in less attention being given to character development or satisfying completion of all storylines, but ’71 is an issue film and these should always be celebrated and seen.

Demange draws excellent performances from his cast, especially O’Connell who is commanding in a very taciturn role. The brutality of the film is at times difficult, but organically evolves from the situation and the story being told. This is a solidly crafted piece of suspense cinema.  

On A Walk Amongst the Tombstones

Liam Neeson doing action has become a cinematic tradition and A Walk Amongst the Tombstones appeared to be 2014’s offering. However, Tombstones is more than actor and image suggest. Less action, more slow burning thriller and this is hopefully a sign of things to come. It would be hoped that audiences are now tiring of seeing sole protagonists taking out groups of thugs single-handed. It’s implausible at the best of times, but even more so when the film aims for realism.

Back to Tombstone and the film, with its dark subject matter and grey mise-en-scene feels heavily indebted to True Detective (2014), perhaps the best thing to appear on TV since The Sopranos (1999 – 2007). It’s a pessimistic film, with very brief glimpses of humour, much like the TV show. Thematically, the film covers child killings and perversion, again much like the TV show. Yet Tombstone’s source material, the Lawrence Block book from the Matt Scudder series, predates True Detective being first published in 1993. Despite this it is hard to believe that director Scott Frank has not attempted to mirror the bleak style of True Detective that reflects the uncomfortable subject matter. Even elements of the casting, especially the ‘bad’ guys feel like a nod in the direction of the actors from the HBO success.

Tombstone is a restrained film that could do with a little more aggression. It threatens at several times to kick to life, but never quite does, leaving the film feeling anticlimactic. However, it does enough to make a sequel for the private detective not wholly unwelcome.