Tuesday, 29 November 2016

On Delivering Revenge in Nocturnal Animals

It would appear that within the world of men’s fashion there a dark forces at work, deeper than those suggested by Zoolander. For Tom Ford has written and directed his second feature, a tale of revenge that delves deep into the corners of the ugliness that man is capable of.
Employing the story within a story trope, Nocturnal Animals plays out part 90s noirish thriller, with a Basic Instinct (1992) aesthetic and part western. Amy Adams is a curator, the wife of a philandering banker and ex wife of Jake Gyllenhaal’s university lecturer/writer. A character we see in flashback and as Adams’ projection of him as the protagonist of his own novel he sent to her as a gift. A book entitled, rather ominously, Nocturnal Animals, the name he gave her when they were together. What you think you see in this film is not necessarily what has happened. 
Revenge is order of the day here and it is delivered in two different, equally impressive ways. The book within the film is one of revenge, the type that is suspenseful enough to get the heart racing and uncomfortably realistic in its portrayal of an everyman whose wife and child are taken in an act of deliberate road rage. As this plays out, at night, on an isolated road, you can’t help but ask yourself, what you would do in a similar situation when faced with savage men (the other nocturnal animals of the narrative). The moral of this disturbing tale of a man who loses everything is not lost on Adams as she reads. We find out in flashback that not only did she leave her ex husband but she aborted a child they would have; he lost his wife and child and now he is expressing the same in a novel. This revenge is scary, yet fictional, and we know that. Ford handles it with the steady hand of a seasoned director, but it is his management of the second form of revenge, the one that catches us off guard that really impresses. 
The slow, steady revenge of the whole narrative, the one that is playing out in well distributed flashbacks and only reveals itself in a final frame is quietly devastating. It is the equivalent of the jump scare of the cat in Alien (1979) versus the slow decline of the actual Alien in the background. The ex husband, who Adams arranges to meet for dinner on finishing the book represents more than just a catch up; for Adams he represents hope, the possibility of repairing damage and a new start for her as her current relationship collapses and she questions her own decisions. The stakes are high as she waits in the restaurant. And waits. For the ex husband never shows; his revenge is delivered cold. He has not forgotten and he has not forgiven and the novel was not a gift, but a punishment. The bow on top - his absence. 

Ford’s script and direction are intelligent and beautiful. It is a film that is hard to forget, and not just for the kidnapping, but more for the lingering shot of Adams sat in a restaurant alone, being punished for decisions she made twenty years ago.

Tuesday, 1 November 2016

On I, Daniel Blake

In a week when Theresa May announced that post Brexit cuts will leave those struggling the most even worse off, I, Daniel Blake’s release could not be more important. The film that bought Ken Loach out of retirement is nothing short of a character assassination of the destructive qualities of a benefits system rendered complex and esoteric by the savagery of the Tory governments.

I, Daniel Blake does what Loach has always done, which is to show us who we are. His mastery of the social realism genre means there is nowhere for us to hide and our own beliefs are revealed as we watch. And, this is not easy. It is not an easy film to watch, but it is a necessary one. The balance of hope and despair that runs throughout the film, written beautifully by Loach’s long time collaborator Paul Laverty, sets us up for what’s to come, but by no means prepares us. Even for those of us sympathetic and aware of the issues, the ending has the power to reduce you. The authenticity of the writing and performances, Dave Johns and Hayley Squires are exceptional, makes I, Daniel Blake impossible to dismiss. Even if the experiences of the characters are foreign to you, the humanity and the realism should affect all.


Ken Loach has said in an interview that if you’re not angry, what’s wrong with you. I, Daniel Blake is an angry film. It doesn’t shy away from any of the hardships faced by the vulnerable. It exposes it and it’s difficult, but it’s important. We should all be angry, that in the UK today this is allowed to happen while government continue to make life easier for the wealthy. I, Daniel Blake is a record of today that should become a historical document for the future.