I join CTV NewsChannel anchor Renée Rodgers to talk about the origin story “Clayface,” the stop-motion animated “Wildwood,” the documentary “Once Upon a Time in Harlem” and the adult fairy tale “Wicker.”
Watch the whole thing HERE!
I sit in with CKTB morning show host Steph Vivier to have a look at movies in theatres including the origin story “Clayface,” the stop-motion animated “Wildwood,” the documenary “Once Upon a Time in Harlem” and the adult fairy tale “Wicker.”
Listen to the whole thing HERE!
SYNOPSIS: In “Wicker,” a new romantic fantasy/comedy, Olivia Colman plays a woman who jokingly commissions a master weaver to make her a husband made of wicker.
CAST: Olivia Colman, Alexander Skarsgård, Elizabeth Debicki, Marli Siu, Nabhaan Rizwan, Richard E. Grant, Peter Dinklage. Written and directed by Alex Huston Fischer and Eleanor Wilson.
REVIEW: A bawdy farce with a tender heart, “Wicker” is an innuendo laden look at unconditional love, jealously and envy.
Adapted from the short story “The Wicker Husband” by Ursula Wills, “Wicker” is set in an uptight medieval farming village. Olivia Colman is the Fisherwoman, a woman ostracized by her community due to the odor of fish that follows her around and her unconventional (for the time) thinking.
Tired of the constant taunts from the locals—“Fisherwoman,” teases a villager, “you caught yourself a lover yet?”—she sarcastically commissions the local basket weaver (Peter Dinklage) to make her a husband out of wicker.
To everyone’s amazement, the wicker man (Alexander Skarsgård) comes to life and proves to be the perfect companion. Handsome, loyal and adoring, he tells the Fisherwoman, “I am here to marry you.”
Their passionate relationship—“I’ll be fixing the bed this afternoon,” he says after their wedding night. “It broke again.”—causes the Fisherwoman to reassess her, “love seems more burden than a prize” mantra, and becomes the talk of the town, inspiring envy and jealousy. “The wives, they’re all aflutter!”
An adult fairy tale, on the surface “Wicker’s” unconventional, “Beauty and the Beast” love story is horny and hilarious but dig deeper and it’s also a satirical look at marriage and gender roles.
In this story women are “collared” to their husbands, giving up their own identities at the moment of matrimony. So, as a representation of a woman finding love on her own terms, the Fisherwoman’s relationship with her Wicker Husband is a slap to the face of the villager’s social norms. She is a nonconformist, not looking for approval in a place where fitting in is the custom.
At the center of it all is Coleman. A mix and match of boldness and insecurity, her take on the Fisherwoman as a fiercely independent woman who opens up to her unusual beau, allows for broad comedy and heartfelt, tender moments.
Instead of playing the joke Skarsgård, hidden beneath a wicker suit, plays it straight. He’s the love interest, and, as such, plays it like a romantic leading man role. The subtle creaking of the woven wicker that makes up his body aids in the performance, adding a handmade feel to the character.
“Wicker” is weird and wonderful, but its study of societal expectations, and a woman who breaks them, that makes it memorable, not the flashy wicker suit.
If a movie starring Riz Ahmed about a musician sidelined by a medical condition sounds familiar, it should. Last year he was nominated for Best Actor for playing a heavy metal drummer suffering hearing loss in “Sound of Metal.” He returns to theatres this week in “Mogul Mowgli,” a rap drama that treads similar ground but with a whole new attitude.
Ahmed, who co-wrote the script with director Bassam Tariq, stars as Zaheer, a London-born rapper known as Zed to his growing number of fans. His lyrics focus on racism, Islamophobia and the issues he faced as a young British Pakistani man.
Based in New York City, he’s about to embark on a European tour. His soon-to-be-ex-girlfriend (Aiysha Hart)—she’s grown tired of their FaceTime relationship while he’s on the road—thinks he needs to get grounded, to reconnect with his family in England. “For someone who raps so much about where they’re from,” she says, “when was the last time you went home? When was the last time you actually spent time with your family?”
He returns to England, welcomed by his family, even if they disapprove of his career and choices. “I can’t give you my blessing,” says his restaurateur father Bashir (Alyy Khan), “if I don’t believe in it.”
Following a scuffle with a fan, he finds himself in the hospital, diagnosed with a degenerative autoimmune disease.
What exactly is wrong? “Your body can’t recognize itself,” his doctor says, “so it’s attacking itself.”
“If you can walk from that chair to that lift,” says his doctor pointing to the elevator ten feet away, “I’ll discharge you.” He can’t, and his treatment begins as he feels his career slip away.
“Mogul Mowgli” is anchored by a raw nerve of a performance from Ahmed. Bruised, physically and mentally, from the indignity of disease and his dreams slipping away, he vacillates between helplessness and anger, sadness and frustration. It’s powerful but most of all, human. He doesn’t play Zed simply as tragic. He’s often unlikeable, often unsympathetic. You know, human.
Often shot in searing close-up, and dotted with surreal sequences, “Mogul Mowgli” is in your face both visually and emotionally. The stark reality of Zed’s disease is tempered by dreamlike sequences that illustrate the chasm between where he came from, to as he imagined it would be to where it is today. It’s a study of cultural identity, divides in families, how illness defines relationships and masculine ambition. It occasionally bites off more than it can chew, but as uncomfortable as it can get, it is never less than compelling.
