High-Rise.
Dr Robert Laing occupies a dilapidated apartment in an apocalyptic high-rise tower block on the outskirts of London, gladly eating a dog to survive. Three months earlier, Laing was a new resident in the chic, state-of-the-art brainchild of architect and penthouse occupant, Anthony Royal. Other than the business people coming and going to their offices, there is little reason for the residents to leave; school, supermarket, gym and swimming pool all on site. Fairly soon Laing finds himself caught in the middle of a rigid social hierarchy; the working classes occupying the lower floors and the elite upper class living above. As power outages become increasingly common and rubbish piles up due to blocked chutes, society disintegrates, class warfare erupts between floors and a nightmarish, dystopian vision of 1970’s Britain is revealed. What promised to be a biting commentary of British society and culture, High-Rise falls a little flat due to underdeveloped characters and a confusing, bordering on nonsensical, plot that seriously drags in the middle. That isn’t to say that Ben Wheatley’s adaptation of J G Ballard’s novel is a total flop, wonderful costume and set design give the desired impression of “modern” luxury 70s living; a haunting yet captivating score unsettles throughout, terrific performances by an ensemble cast including Tom Hiddlestone and Elisabeth Moss, and it’s surreal in all the right ways.
Son of Saul.
Sonderkommando: a prisoner, typically Jewish, forced to aid with the disposal of gas chamber victims during the Holocaust. Hungarian Jew, Saul Ausländer, is one such prisoner in Auschwitz. Though numb to the horrors around him, upon seeing the suffocation of a teenage boy by a Nazi doctor after his narrow survival from the gassing, Saul asks fellow Hungarian prisoner and assistant to Joseph Mengele, Miklós, to spare the boy an autopsy in order to give him a proper Jewish burial; Miklós declines, but allows Saul five minutes alone with the boy before he is cremated that evening. Saul, undeterred, sets out to find a Rabbi to perform the funeral ritual, leading to Saul’s involvement in a planned escape attempt. László Nemes’ directorial debut, Son of Saul, is a gruesome, bleak, harrowing, exhausting, terrifyingly personal depiction of a World War II concentration camp. There’s little dialogue though it’s far from silent, the incredible sound work of constant muttering and brash noise brings a claustrophobic intensity to the film, as well as the long, close shots of lead Géza Röhrig in a narrow aspect ratio. A comparison can be made to 2018’s Utøya – July 22 (review available) where the viewer is a companion to the protagonist throughout and much of the horror is out of shot or out of focus. A horrifying holocaust drama that deserves to be uttered in the same breath as Schindler’s List (review also available).
Kubo and the Two Strings.
As a baby, Kubo had his left eye stolen by his villainous grandfather and owes the other to the self-sacrifice of his warrior father. Now, some ten years later, Kubo lives in a mountain cave with his mentally ill mother. As she stares stoically out toward the horizon, Kubo earns money in the village by magically animating pieces of paper with his shamisen, telling the tale of his heroic samurai father, Hanzo, his three pieces of legendary armour: the Sword Unbreakable, the Breastplate Impenetrable and the Helmet Invulnerable, and of Hanzo’s evil nemesis, the eye-snatching Moon King. Kubo returns to a now conscious mother, who reminds him of the three rules to his safety: keep his toy monkey statue on him at all times, always wear his father’s robes and, most importantly, never stay out after dark lest his grandfather and his mother’s younger twin sisters should steal his other eye. One day, after failing in his attempt to contact his deceased father in a traditional ritual, Kubo is attacked by his wicked aunts after the sun sets. Saved just in time by his mother, she instructs Kubo to find the three pieces of armour before he is hurtled to the snow-covered far-lands where he awakens to find Monkey, his toy statue, has been brought to life by his mother’s magic. The two, guided by an origami Hanzo, soon encounter Beetle, a cursed amnesiac insect human hybrid who, believing himself to be Hanzo’s apprentice, pledges his loyalty to Kubo. And so the four companions set forth on their quest for the legendary armour, discovering more than a few surprises along the way. A visually breathtaking stop-motion picture, Kubo and the Two Strings is an instantly likeable, funny yet melancholic, action-packed fantasy tale inspired by Japanese samurai mythology and culture. Kubo is a rare thing in that it’s a “kids” film that challenges and entertains viewers of all ages; a distinction usually reserved for legendary Japanese filmmaker Hiyao Miyazaki, no higher praise could be possibly offered.
The Hateful Eight.
With a blizzard approaching and with only the corpses of three bounties to keep him company, Civil War veteran turned bounty hunter, Major Marquis Warren, horseless after his ageing stead gave out in the snow, waves down a stagecoach on the road to Red Rock, Wyoming. Onboard are John “The Hangman” Ruth, a (ironically) ruthless, unforgiving bounty hunter, and his $10,000 prisoner, the black-eyed, sass-mouthed murderer Daisy Domergue. Ruth permits Warren to hitch along since they’ve met once before and Ruth is intrigued by a personal letter written to Warren by Abraham Lincoln. Though initially suspicious of Warren when another man appears on the road, once the man’s identity is discovered, one Chris Mannix, the son of a Confederate military leader, Ruth’s suspicions are assuaged; he remains unsure of Mannix however, who claims to be the new sheriff of Red Rock, as the four make a rest stop at Minnie’s Haberdashery to wait out the blizzard. Welcomed by Bob, a Mexican who informs them Minnie is visiting her mother and has left him in charge, the travellers are further greeted by philosophical English hangman, Oswaldo Mowbray, en route to Red Rock for an execution; memoir-writing cowpoke visiting his mother for Christmas, Joe Gage; and tight-lipped Confederate general Sanford Smithers, travelling to erect a cenotaph for his missing son. After some intense encounters between the inhabitants of the lodge, Ruth becomes convinced that someone is conspiring with Domergue and attempting to free her; what unfolds under the roof of this cabin is a tale of mystery, murder, lies and deceit. Idiosyncratic sharp dialogue, tinged with humour, stylish, ultra violent; what more could you expect, or want, from a Tarantino flick? Perhaps breathtaking cinematography and shots of the stunning Colorado landscape? Or Ennio Morricone scoring a western for the first time in 34 years? Another addition to a near faultless filmography.
Your Name.
The presence of a glowing red meteor in Earth’s atmosphere will have a profound effect on two people and will connect them forever. Mitsuha, high school student and estranged daughter of the mayor, awakes apparently confused by her body and begins acting out of sorts; she has no memory of this the following day and discovers a message in her notebook that reads “who are you?”. Mitsuha hates life in her boring, rural hometown; mocked by her classmates for being a shrine maiden and living with her grandmother, she wishes to be a handsome Tokyo boy in her next life. Taki, a high school boy in Tokyo, awakens one day similarly confused; his friends notice a change in dialect and attitude and, like Mitsuha, Taki has no recollection of the events the following day. After several such experiences, Mitsuha and Taki realise that they haven’t been dreaming but have genuinely been switching bodies. They communicate by leaving messages for each other, though they become exasperated by the other’s social interactions as Mitsuha arranges a date for Taki, while Mitsuha becomes more popular at school due to Taki’s actions. When the switching stops however, and with Mitsuha unreachable by phone, Taki sets out to meet Mitsuha in person armed with only sketches he has made from memory of her hometown’s scenery, but he will make a shocking discovery and the meaning of “musubi”, the force that connects them. A wonderfully animated, mind-bending LSD trip of a love story that transcends space and time, Makoto Shinkai’s Your Name deserves praise for being as daring as it is brilliant. Shinkai has learnt much from Hayao Miyazaki, and this could well be as good as anything created by the Japanese anime master.
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