Tag Archives: Nicole Kidman


“Yorgos Lanthimos’ psychological thriller is something of a fable, rich with metaphors and mythological parallels.”

Wayward Wolf.

For those of you that have seen Yorgos Lanthimos’ previous outing, The Lobster, the rather eery stylistic approach of his latest piece, The Killing of a Sacred Deer, will be all too familiar.

With unnaturally stilted delivery and distracted, truncated conversations, the characters go about their roles in the most ‘wooden’ manner that you could possibly imagine.

Of course, that’s actually all part of the set-up here, and considering Lanthimos’ film boasts the likes of Nicole Kidman and Colin Farrell among its number, it’s highly unlikely that any such wooden aspersions could possibly relate to the actual acting ability of the excellent cast. But it certainly all makes for another odd, yet intriguing outing from the Lanthimos stable – one which takes care to examine such themes as guilt and responsibility, as well as the biblical concept of an eye for an eye.

Top surgeon, Stephen Murphy (Farrell), carries with him a terrible burden. A botched surgery some years earlier – whilst apparently under the influence of alcohol – had resulted in the unfortunate death of a man. With a wife and two lovely children to support, it’s important that Stephen does not allow the burdens of his past to drag him down and dictate his life. Yet every so often the guilt seems to eat him up. These pangs of remorse always seem to coincide with the frequent occasions that he spends in the company of a teenage boy, Martin (Barry Keoghan). Whilst it initially appears that Stephen may have taken the boy under his wing, adopting some kind of career mentor role, the truth, and rather unnerving reason for Martin’s virtual omnipresence in Stephen’s life gradually becomes apparent, and increasingly, by way of some rather strange and sinister goings on, it leaves the beleaguered surgeon to deal with a classic case of Hobson’s choice.

Whatever you might make of Lanthimos’ film – and the response that I’ve encountered has been varied – there’s no doubting that thanks to its unusual direction, a warped (in a good way) sense of fun, characters bordering on the robotic, and all-round levels of disturbing oddity, The Killing of a Sacred Deer effortlessly burns its way into the old grey matter, and stays there.

Arguably most memorable of all though is the film’s stunning cinematography; superbly strong enduring visual imagery that can probably best be described as minimal meets clinical. Scenes shot within the confines of the hospital walls are particularly visually arresting, making strong use of a restrictive almost monochrome palette, and little or no room is given to the relative comfort and reassuring warmth that bold colours would bring.

Yorgos Lanthimos’ psychological thriller is something of a fable, rich with metaphors and mythological parallels. A truly dystopian vision that devilishly pokes at our most deep-seated fears, and straddles the divide between dark, inappropriately jocular, and absurdly disturbing.

Above everything though, The Killing of a Sacred Deer offers a stark reminder that ‘true happiness’ is only ever a temporary state of events, and that we’re all never more than a brief moment of misfortune or negligence from having it, and everything that it represents, come crashing down around us.

In this case, the ultimate, self-inflicted souring of the American dream.



“Elle Fanning… delights with a performance of scheming flirtatiousness. Given the circumstances, it’s a catalyst for disaster.”

Wayward Wolf.


Director Sofia Coppola’s The Beguiled is a simple tale based upon Thomas Cullinan’s novel, set during the American Civil War, deep in the Confederate state of Virginia.

A young girl, Amy (Oona Laurence), is out picking mushrooms in the forest when she stumbles upon a fallen Union soldier, Corporal McBurney (Colin Farrell). Wounded by a gun shot to his leg, he is fast bleeding to death. The kindhearted Amy helps him to a ladies’ seminary where he can receive treatment and convalesce.

This seminary is also Amy’s home which she shares with four other young girls of varying ages, all of whom are tutored by their live-in teachers, Miss Martha (Nicole Kidman), and her assistant Edwina (Kirsten Dunst).

Whilst the unremitting sound of gun shots rumbles away somewhere in the distance, Miss Martha and Edwina do their best to ensure that some semblance of civilised normality is maintained at this well-to-do school, priding themselves upon producing well-mannered, well-educated young southern ladies.

Being also a school of deep-rooted Christian values presents Miss Martha with something of a dilemma. Should they now turn the Corporal in to the Confederate forces, or wait at least until he is fully recovered from his injuries?

The decision is made, but given the potentially problematic nature of this predicament, it could very easily be one that they will all live to regret.

McBurney’s wartime allegiances of course contravene the ‘values’ expected of a good Confederate household, but it’s simply his manly presence here that is unquestionably the cause of the competitiveness, jealousy and ultimately betrayal that soon develops between the ladies of the house.

It doesn’t help that McBurney in some ways encourages the situation. Fully aware that he is the only, and therefore Alpha male here, he begins to revel in his increasingly powerful status.

The Beguiled is a slow-burning yet expertly-paced affair, not to mention a fascinatingly taut experience from start to finish. A film of tightly bound layers poised to unravel spectacularly at any moment.

Developing moral and sexual tensions simmer away, guards are gradually lowered, alcohol flows, and it’s only a matter of time before lines are crossed and the pot well and truly boils over.

Farrell is excellent portraying a man mindful to remain sufficiently polite and charming in the face of the welcome steady encroachment of female interest – all the while, wary that he may still be turned in to the authorities at any moment.

Nicole Kidman’s portrayal of Miss Martha is one of authoritative decorum, whilst Kirsten Dunst produces a nuanced performance of repressed longing. Elle Fanning (Alicia), on the other hand, delights with a performance of scheming flirtatiousness. Given the circumstances, it’s a catalyst for disaster.

Philippe Le Sourd’s cinematography is refreshingly conservative in its execution, but no less beautiful for this. An abundance of static shots and an almost ethereal use of light and delicate textures captures wonderfully the very essence of the hot and sticky natural beauty of the southern location.

Sofia Coppola’s The Beguiled is darkly humorous on occasion, thoroughly entertaining and ever so seductive – almost beguiling one might say.






There’s a very fine line that we tread in life that divides two or more eventualities. Call it luck, call it fate, call it what you will, but we’re all only ever that fine line’s width away from a potentially life-changing event.

And so it proves to be in Garth Davis’s Lion. A profoundly moving film, based upon Luke Davies’s novel recounting the remarkable and heart-breaking true story of Saroo, a five-year old Indian boy from small town India.

Born into severe poverty, a young Saroo (an utterly endearing performance from Sunny Pawar), lives in a small hut with his mother, sister, and brother Guddu, with whom he hustles for any small scraps of opportunity that might aid his mother and help to supplement her meagre earnings as a manual labourer.

Times are indeed hard, but they are a close loving unit, and there is a strong bond between Saroo and his older brother who invariably takes him under his wing.

Saroo’s stubborn unwillingness to allow Guddu to head off in search of work one evening without him in tow, eventually sees the pair of them make the short train journey to a neighbouring town where Guddu leaves a tired Saroo to sleep on the platform bench whilst he goes off in search of work opportunities. Guddu promises to return as soon as possible, and is insistent that Saroo should not move from where he’s lying until he does.

When Guddu doesn’t return, Saroo decides to take shelter for the night in an empty train carriage, only to awaken some hours later aboard the same, now moving train, en route to Calcutta; a two day journey, far from his family, and into the unknown.

On arrival, scared, alone, confused and disorientated, Saroo remains oblivious to the fact that his life has just changed, inexorably, forever.

It’s hard to convey just how truly emotionally engaging the opening acts of Lion really are, and they must have presented the director with something of a dilemma as to how such engagement levels could be sustained, considering the film’s second section largely abandons the original cast members and setting, and introduces a now grown-up Saroo (Dev Patel), living an adopted life, far-removed from his roots.

Twenty-something Saroo, now living in Australia, is portrayed as a mature, stable young man, who has secured a place at university where he has found an intelligent and attractive girlfriend, Lucy (Rooney Mara).

Saroo is the antithesis of his troubled brother, Mantosh (Divian Ladwa) – also adopted – and very much the pride and joy of his caring adoptive parents, John and Sue Brierley, (David Wenham and Nicole Kidman).

Little is made of the intervening years between the point of Saroo’s adoption and his departure for university. He is clearly a well-adjusted young man, seemingly at ease with his adopted lot in life and with who he’s become, but there is a deeply affecting scene in Garth Davis’s film in which Saroo is suddenly confronted by his past. A visual trigger throws him into something of a frozen trance-like state. Staring off into the middle distance, his mind is jolted back in time to a poignant moment from his youth that he’d shared with his brother. It’s a catalytic event, and one that has such a profound effect upon him that it re-awakens something deeply personal and deep-seated within him.


Whether Saroo’s  re-awakening happened in such a manner, or whether this moment is merely a convenient device with which to emphasise a point, is immaterial. Beyond doubt however is the fact that this rediscovered yearning for a forgotten family and past – something that he’d kept so well buried and confined to history for so long – was no fleeting infatuation. It came to overwhelm his every waking hour, jeopardising the life that he’d so ably built for himself, at least that is, until the adopted boy within him could finally find some kind of closure.

Lion is a devastatingly emotional piece. An extraordinarily tender and touching portrait of the plight of both a young boy, and a young man, and it’s testament to Garth Davis’ directorial skills that he somehow manages to successfully join the two chapters and prolong the film’s achingly wistful air and intensity, throughout. From abandoned Hindi-speaking youngster, desperately navigating the considerable perils of a homeless existence on the unforgiving streets of Bengali-speaking Calcutta – to the best of a five year old child’s ability, at least – to a fully-grown man; the adopted son of loving parents, who would do anything for him, yet can never compensate for a tragic past that seems destined to forever eat away at Saroo.

Sunny Pawar and Dev Patel are both magnificent portraying both younger and older Saroo, whilst Nicole Kidman is completely convincing portraying his sweet, caring and compassionate mother, beautifully. Volker Bertelmann and Dustin O’Halloran’s accompanying score is both rich and powerful, yet understated enough so as not to over-kill the film’s highly emotive, yet subtle direction.

Not even the rather cynical, suspiciously omnipresent product-placement for the wonders of Google Earth can detract from what is in its very essence, a beautiful, unashamed tearjerker that, unless you are very much dead inside, will pull relentlessly at your heart strings.


With 12 years a slave sold out and American Hussle just somehow not fitting the bill, ‘The Railway Man’ it was.

It’s decent. Strong performances across the board in a true story of war and redemption. It did feel somewhat swamped by an incessant film score and the plot did at times feel a little contrived and so I did have to remind myself that it was in fact based upon a true story (although clearly affected by A little bit of Hollywood licence, naturally!)

It certainly has its moments though, particularly a very emotionally charged ending.

All in all? Well worth a watch.