On Catching Catfish on TV

Without doubt The Social Network (2010) has been the most publicised, most debated and most awards laden movie about Facebook. All this, and it's a great film. Yet, in the same year as Fincher's The Social Network was getting everyone talking, the best film about Facebook begun its quiet ascent to becoming the ultimate water cooler film. That film is Catfish, directed by Henry Joost and Ariel Schulman. Catfish markets itself as a documentary that follows photographer Yaniv Schulman, the director's brother, as he embarks upon an online relationship with the family of an eight year old child prodigy artist. This leads to an online relationship with the eight year olds elder sister and leads to a meeting that is absolutely riveting.

The documentary credentials of this film have been much discussed and debated. The perfect three part structure, the too clean ending and the slightly uncertain 'acting', as if a script hasn't quite been memorised or improvisation is not a skill they've mastered call into question the true documentary nature of the film. The star and directors claim it is 100% real. That the structure and the ending is something that they were very fortunate to fall into as they followed Yaniv's story. Not since This is Spinal Tap (1984) has a film blurred the lines between fact and fiction, forcing an audience into wild debate. The difference with This is Spinal Tap is that the answer is out there, it's just hard to believe. With Catfish, the status of documentary is insisted upon by all involved, yet doubted by many.

Whether it is 100% real, completely fabricated or a mix of both (the latter being the most likely), Catfish is thrilling cinema. It is impossible to take your eyes off the action as the story develops into more shocking turns. Amongst the comedy, the drama, the thrills and the heartbreak this is edge of the seat viewing and the most relevant film about Facebook so far created.

On Closure with Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part Two

Seven books, eight films and ten years later, the Harry Potter franchise comes to a loud expensive conclusion with Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part Two. Bringing together over $6 billion in revenue so far, and counting, the Harry Potter films are the most successful film franchise of all time, even surpassing the twenty two films following the adventures of James Bond. With one very good film in the seven so far (the third in the franchise, Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban (2004) directed by Alfonso Cuaron) how does the magical money train bow out?

The Deathly Hallows Part 2 picks up exactly where Part One concluded and with some atmospheric, dialogue free shots of Hogwarts and the misery that has overcome the school creates a powerful sense of doom. Yet once the story kicks in the film, as has been the problem with others in the series, becomes bogged down in its multiple narratives. It's hard to feel the emotion aimed for during the slaughter that takes place at Hogwarts when the attack won't focus on any major characters and Harry, Ron and Hermione are off on other adventures. There is much to admire in the cinematography and the set design and Ralph Fiennes at Lord Voldemort is impressive in every scene in which he appears. However the combination of too many characters (towards the end there are reaction shots of just about every character who hasn't died, just to make sure they get in the film) with a slightly ridiculous deus ex machina means that non hard-core fans will find the whole film shallow beneath the surface.

Harry Potter on film does not leave cinemas with the emotional punch that many would have hoped, but instead concludes with a film very much like the last four and as with the last four, there remains a sense of impressive detachment throughout this film.

On The Tree of Life, a Textual Analysis

With a notoriously sparse filmography (five films in thirty eight years), The Tree of Life is Terrence Malick’s fifth feature. ‘It’s unlike anything you’ve ever seen’ is an overused platitude in film criticism. However, The Tree of Life really is unique when it comes to feature length fiction cinema.

Genre has always been something of a loose concept when applied to Malick films. There will be a genre that is more applicable than any other, but his treatment of the genre’s codes and conventions (recognisable features of the genre) negates any serious attempt to make the theory stick. The Thin Red Line (1998) is a war film, yet scenes of warfare are infrequent and the lack of a protagonist to follow is also unusual. Yet, few films capture the beauty and horror of war while making the viewer consider the wider, human consequences. The Tree of Life would best be described as a family drama, yet this does not even begin to summarise this sprawling tour de force of photography and music, with, of course, some family drama thrown in. This is not even a sub-genre or a hybrid. It is even less genre orientated than any previous Malick films. It is a genre unique to Malick, achieved through his incredible ability to juxtapose images with music and the autobiographical characteristics of this story.

Narrative is even more of an opaque concept when applied to Malick films. Narrative theory will tell us that stories follow a recognisable pattern, which allow us to easily follow the story. This is so embedded in cinema that we don’t even notice the familiarity of many stories, yet subconsciously we know when we have moved into the final act of the film and when it is tying things up to come to an end. The Tree of Life follows no recognisable narrative structure. Time is a loose concept in all Malick films, but even more so here. We begin with the death of a nineteen-year-old son, but then never see the son pass the age of ten. The story of the mother is interrupted by a dazzling thirty-minute spectacle recreating the creation of life. The grandness of which adds a greater weight to the personal story of the Texan family. What could loosely be described as the film's chapters are bookmarked by ephemeral shots of dancing colours. In short, this is a film that shakes free the shackles of traditional story telling and delivers an unpredictable narrative with a very relatable story at the heart of it.

Despite its magnificent shots of the natural world shown along side a classical score, the most memorable scenes from The Tree of Life are those of the family and it is this representation of a 1950s Texan family that provide the film with its emotional power. One of Malick's most impressive skills is his ability to communicate three-dimensional characters with little or no dialogue. Therefore, when we see Brad Pitt's patriarch showing his son design sketches and patents and then the next scene him in a courtroom receiving a despondent pat on the back, his character is developed further as an ambitious but frustrated man. This is one of Pitt's finest performances and certainly his best since the fantastic The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford (2007). Opposite Pitt's tough, but loving father is the angelic mother, played by Jessica Chastain. The naturalness on show here is incredible, highlighted by the fact that it is easy to forget about Pitt's celebrity and just accept the representation on offer. The moments captured of the sons as newborn babies, or those of them playing games or causing mischief in the neighbourhood will immediately bring to mind memories for anyone with siblings. The interactions feel so universal, yet at the same time personal, as if we are intruding, or perhaps more accurately, an unseen member of the O'Brien family.

The audience for The Tree of Life is a difficult thing to pin down. Malick fans will surely see the film (they don't know when there will be another), but the indulgence on display here may be too much even for those who admire his previous films. The film will certainly not play to a traditional weekend audience, yet winning this year's Palme D'Or at Cannes will give it a much needed publicity boost and bring an audience eager to see why it won. The film must have been a marketing nightmare as it is outside the key demographic, but realistically only falls into a very small demographic anyway. The most likely audience is one that is extremely cine-literate. To really get the most from Malick's latest an audience will have to put into the film more than they are given. More than most films, The Tree of Life will speak to people on an individual level, each taking away a lasting image, whether it's an exploding volcano or a baby's foot being gently cradled by a new father.

More than anything, The Tree of Life calls to mind the 1982 documentary Koyaanisqatsi, which was a series of well shot images placed alongside the music of Phillip Glass. This documentary had no plot, yet had environmental leanings. Parts of Malick's film feel very similar, yet he has skillfully measured the grandness of such photography and music alongside a family orientated story of tragedy and happiness and the two together create one of the most strikingly fitting films on the subject of life and death.

On Uncompromising Cinema in A Separation

A Separation is the fifth film from writer director Asghar Farhadi and is the first Iranian film to win the Golden Bear at the Berlin film festival. Within the premise of divorce / manslaughter court cases, Farhadi has crafted an incredibly affecting dramatic piece of work.

The ensemble cast won the major acting awards at Berlin at it is clear why. Each character is brought vividly to life through performances of command and subtlety. Sarina Farhadi as Termeh is especially effective as the young girl trapped in the middle of the adult troubles. The realism and effectiveness of the characters can be attributed to the incredible script. Farhadi has a talent for scripting scenes of incredible power without crossing the line into melodrama. The situation that unfolds throughout the film is extraordinary, but always develops organically. Yet the real achievement here is how the film refuses to comprise. The audience is never offered an easy way out and are forced to make difficult decisions on the events unfolding and the morals of the characters. This is even harder considering the characters all make decisions that seem reasonable and relatable and both right and wrong. In essence, human decisions.

This is surely one of the best films on release at the moment and possibly one of the better of 2011.

On Powerful Cinema with Incendies

Written and directed by French Canadian Denis Villeneuve and based on the play by Wajdi Mouawad, Incendies is cinema at its most powerful. This is the story of a brother and a sister living in Canada who are sent, by letters of request left in their mother’s will, to the Middle East to find the father they thought was dead and a brother they did not know they had. This is high concept cinema and in many hands would descend into melodramatic farce, yet Incendies is a beautiful and powerful film. Villeneuve treats the story with the weight it deserves and draws superb performances from his experienced cast. The film does not shy away from the difficult dramatic scenes, nor does it shy away from addressing the complicated religious war in the area or the violence resulting from this. A scene of terrorism on a bus is particularly harrowing. Yet, Villeneuve has contemporary style to match his ability to handle serious issues. The use of on screen text to highlight people and locations is a nice touch and the soundtrack is surprising yet relevant.

From its commanding opening scene (set to Radiohead) to its unforgettable dénouement, Incendies is necessary viewing.

On a Redeeming Feature with Transformers: Dark of the Moon

The infinite monkey theorem states that, given enough time, a monkey typing at random would, as part of its output, produce one of Shakespeare’s play. That could take thousands of years. Before producing a Hamlet or Othello, the monkey would surely knock out several Transformers films.

Transformers: Dark of the Moon is the third of Michael Bay’s alien robot films, following 2007s Transformers and 2009s Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen. The former was fun and aware of its 80s roots, willing to poke fun at itself as well as deliver in the action stakes. The latter remains not only one of the most blindly created sequels in history, but one of the worst films of the decade. Dark of the Moon is better than Revenge (most things are), but the compliments go little further.

Bay has attempted to inject the seemingly spontaneous humour that made the first film so engaging, but succeeds sparingly. John Malkovich brings a dash of enjoyment, showing up with a fake tan and white teeth. Frances McDormand and John Turturro fail to do the same (is Bay recruiting in the same place as the Coen’s?) Mostly, Dark of the Moon plods along with some horrendous dialogue and a criminally bad middle act. At 154 minutes it is way too long and if the slow motion was cut would probably make it in on the two-hour mark. The music used in the film is heavy handed and poorly chosen; yet a redeeming feature comes in the original score by Steve Jablonsky. The action scenes would be far less tolerable if it weren’t for the score, which often underlines the action with the right amount of gravitas. This is most evident in the films standout scene where three decepticons pursue some autobots along the highway. Unfortunately, Bay shows his hand as a director by choosing to end this affecting scene with a moment of badly timed and poorly delivered comedy.

Dark of the Moon is more proof that the Transformers franchise should have begun and ended in 2007.

On Stake Land

A mysterious nameless stranger. A young, orphaned boy. A desolate and violent landscape. These are the key ingredients of writer / director Jim Mickle’s Stake Land. Stake Land moves along very familiar lines. We join the story when the vampires are already rife and America has already fallen. The stranger and the orphan are trying to make their way North, where the climate makes vampire attacks rarer and a so called Eden has been created in Canada with no vampires (although with added cannibalism, the orphan is warned). They kill vampires along the way and have become figures of stories amongst the small communities trying to survive. Along the way there are moments of joy and hope – a young, pregnant folk singer joins the hunters. Yet, the film rejects these small glimpses of hope, killing the singer and her unborn child and placing the narrative in a despondent mould.

The changing American landscape as the misfit group move North is beautifully shot and frames that linger on snow covered plants offers a peaceful respite from the incarnadine vampire attacks. Stake Land shares much in common with the superb television series The Walking Dead (2010) in its approach to the vampires (although The Walking Dead is zombies), who are driven by bloodlust but far from mindless animals. There are also comparisons to be made with I Am Legend (2007), especially with how the vampire attack is introduced and the glimmer of hope that may exist. Where Stake Land differs is the independent nature of the film. The smaller budget, the lesser known actors allow greater freedom in what could be viewed as a negative approach to issues of religion or American foreign and domestic policy. This is further heightened by the ambiguous ending. Overall, Stake Land offers little surprises for the genre, but delivers a quietly effecting film with the horror genre parameters.