Tag Archives: subtle

FILM REVIEW: Demolition

Davis Mitchell was sleep walking through his marriage. His young, beautiful wife, Julia (Heather Lind), had told him that he didn’t listen, and then one day she was gone; taken from him in a car accident.
I can relate with that. Not in its literal entirety, but the premise and the overall emotional upheaval that it would bring about rings very true to me, as I’m sure it will for many.
There then follows the curious scenario of a man standing at the epicentre of a collective outpouring of familial grief and emotion, yet feeling just a kind of numbness to it all and an overwhelming urge to distance himself from the entire charade.
Davis Mitchell, (the very excellent Jake Gyllenhaal), it would appear has spent the last twelve years of his life on auto pilot; one half of a convenient marriage; almost certainly the less committed half.
A faulty vending machine in the A&E department of the hospital in which his wife has just died prompts Davis to write the first of what becomes an obsessive sequence of letters to the vending firm’s customer care representative, Karen Moreno (Naomi Watts) who, in time he befriends along with her troubled son, Chris (Judah Lewis), and through whom he gradually begins to rediscover himself.
In the aftermath of his wife’s passing, he slips into a somewhat detached and surreal place in his head; the sort of place that one finds oneself in, in times of upheaval, and much as his wife used to implore him to do when she was physically there, he suddenly starts noticing things again, right down to the tiniest of details.
This sudden, new-found observance, together with an obsessive compulsion to rip apart – more often than not, literally – the very fabric and structure of his marriage and everything that has come to represent it, is all well and good in attempting to aid the healing process, but Davis is still employed by Julia’s father, a man who expects Davis to remain true to his daughter’s memory and true to the man that he was before her untimely death.
This thoughtful piece from director Jean-Marc Vallée‘s is simultaneously emotionally involving and entertaining. Predictably Jake Gyllenhaal excels as the emotionally confused widower experiencing the kind of new lease on life that can maybe only be found through the total abandonment of all that has preceded and supposedly defined you to date.
It’s not a film that panders to emotional cliches or resorts in any way to unnecessary schmaltz – when the opportunities are certainly there to do so – and as bizarre as Davis’ new found reality can be at times, crucially it’s a film that remains credible and believable throughout.
Vallée has successfully captured a very different take on the concept of going through the rigours of the grieving process, and how it’s sometimes only ever possible to truly appreciate someone and what they truly meant to you once they’re gone.
A subtle, understated piece that deserves far better critical recognition than sadly it appears to have had thus far.
Very much recommended.

 

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FILM REVIEW: Spotlight

“The church wants us to believe that it was just a few bad apples, but it’s much bigger than that. It’s actually a recognisable, psychological phenomenon…”

The Catholic priest scandal, much like the whole Jimmy Savile affair, in an internet-less age, was the stuff of gossip and rumour. Barring a mainstream media outlet both brave and crucially independent enough to run a major story such as this, it was always destined to remain that way. Presumably an assortment of well-connected people within their fields,  influential enough to dissuade any such follow-up to these kinds of accusations, would have had them discredited and brushed under the carpet in no time.

Like Mr Savile, the Catholic church, whilst being perceived as a bit bizarre in that ‘marmite’ sense, was also seen as essentially well-intentioned. Both the church and Savile  after all did / do a lot of great work for charidee.

Of course, Catholicism is often the subject of much debate. Whether one buys into its core message and instructions, is appalled by its historical global track record, or is bewildered by the concept of living one’s life in a state of servile, fearful reverence, the Catholic church does however offer a great many people a source of much comfort, providing a sense of community and meaning to a large number of folk. For all of the negative aspects of the religion, it does encourage people to be generous of heart, caring and charitable. Though not traits exclusive to those of a religious persuasion by any means, it’s nonetheless important and only fair that this is always acknowledged.

It cannot be ignored however that some very fundamental aspects of the structure and mechanics of Catholicism were key ingredients in the revealed mass abuse of young children the world over, and it’s this revelation that forms the crux of Tom McCarthy’s at times hard-hitting, Spotlight.

The backdrop is Boston, a city with a traditionally large Irish-American population and hence a strong historical representation by the Catholic church. The city’s Boston Globe newspaper has run a one-off ‘comment’ column regarding the abuse of young children at the hands of Catholic priests. Its reception is lukewarm at best and the piece would have been confined to the historical archives but for the coincidental and timely appointment of a new chief editor at The Globe – a man with new ideas and priorities – and it is decided therefore that they should look into this further, entrusting the task to the paper’s special investigative arm, Spotlight.

Understandably, this is met with an air of disapproval by the team considering that over half of The Globe’s readership are statistically practicing Catholics.

Through conversations with abuse ‘survivors’ groups like S.N.A.P and with assorted insiders, the true nature and scale of the problem is quickly pieced together and revealed:

A priest’s vow of celibacy, whilst adhered to by many, we are informed is essentially a smokescreen and that over 50% of priests are in fact anything but.

Those priests that have been outed as child abusers are mysteriously removed from their dioceses by the church and marked down officially as ‘on sick leave.’ No further explanations necessary.

A staggering 90 (6%) of all 1,500 priests active in just the Boston area are discovered to be involved in the scandal. A vast increase on the suspected total of 15.

Just how far does this thing go and why has it taken until now for it to properly come to light?

In Michael Keaton, Mark Ruffalo and Rachel McAdams, to mention but three, Spotlight boasts a strong cast that do a decent job in delivering Tom McCarthy’s interpretation of events. It’s subject matter that would be typically the domain of a full-on Hollywood treatment, which is why, in some ways, it’s a pleasant surprise that it doesn’t really take that approach.

If anything it’s a film in danger of being a little underplayed. As has been suggested elsewhere, Spotlight thankfully succeeds in avoiding the temptation for over-exaggerated scenes of desk-thumping and pained soul-searching, and whereas I’m all in favour of the more subtle approach to film creation, I worry in this instance that the necessary impact – considering the film’s rather antagonistic content –  is perhaps a little lost in McCarthy’s direction; as detailed and carefully considered as it undoubtedly is.

Much like 2015’s Steve Jobs, Spotlight is a film heavy on dialogue, albeit in a less voluminous, hence more palatable way. It’s also a film that will certainly stand up to repeat viewings, if for no other reason than to fully ingest and indeed digest the copious details that it discloses.

Spotlight falls a bit short of being considered a defining film within its genre, but nevertheless it’s a welcome and necessary piece whose strong message addresses admirably an issue that was for far too long ignored.

One would hope that mainstream film-making of contentious, religion-fueled issues will not stop here?

The oft-ridiculed Catholic church has become a bit of an easy target over the years, that much is true, and the fallout from criticising and exposing its failings is perceived to be low-risk enough to make any such actions worthwhile, yet religion-caused atrocities, equally deserving of mainstream artistic criticism, yet never so confidently publicly reviled, remain the stuff of unsubstantiated rumour and insinuation, and most importantly, prevalent, the world over.

I await their exposé, though I shan’t be holding my breath.