The Daily Telegraph calls writer/director Armando Iannucci “the hardman of political satire.” As the creator of sardonic films and TV shows like “In the Loop” and “Veep” he’s a vitally caustic comic presence.
As the film begins it’s 1953 and Joseph Stalin (Adrian McLoughlin), the second leader of the Soviet Union, is alive and well. Under his watch death squads are rounding up his enemies, executions are common and the mere mention of his name strikes fear into the hearts of the people. The Central Committee, surround him. There’s the scheming Nikita Khrushchev (Steve Buscemi), the pompous Georgy Malenkov (Jeffrey Tambor), Old Bolshevik Vyacheslav Molotov (Michael Palin) and secret police chief Lavrentiy Beria (Simon Russell Beale). When he suffers a stroke everything changes as his inner circle engage in a power struggle that will determine not only their futures but also the future of the Soviet Union.
The idea of chaos in the halls of power, though set sixty-five years in the past, feels almost ripped from the headlines. With jet black humour “The Death of Stalin” supercharges the farcical elements of a very dark time in history. With the cast using their natural accents—no one here tries to sound Russian—it feels surreal, like Monty Python gone amok. There’s doublespeak, jealousy and sight gags galore as this band of yes-men bumble around in an attempt to seize the Kremlin in the days following their leader’s passing.
Iannucci avoids the danger of trivializing the very real-life tragedy of the story—you hear gunshots off screen for much of the first half of the film—by not glorifying the villains. He takes a sharp knife to the reputations of Stalin, Khrushchev et al, portraying all of them as spoiled incompetents capable only of looking out for number one. In this historical context that approach works to show how absolute power corrupts absolutely.
“The Death of Stalin” is an audacious reimagining of history. Strong comic performances are highlighted in a film that is both frightening and funny at the same time.
There are as many kinds of cinematic zombies as there are zombie movies. From George A. Romero’s lumbering brain eaters and the fast-moving fleshbags of 28 Days Later to the undead hordes of World War Z and The Crazies’ sentient creepers, the only thing that binds them is an voracious urge to eat their living counterparts and, these days, an almost unrivalled popularity with horror fans.
It seems when the world is in turmoil people turn to zombies as an outlet for their apocalyptic anxieties. A new British film, The Girl With All the Gifts, borrows from Romero, 28 Days Later and even from The Walking Dead and yet its mix of social commentary, zippy zombies and exploding skulls doesn’t feel like a re-tread.
“The zombie metaphor is humanity eating itself,” says star Gemma Arterton. “This film extends that because it gives zombies, or hungries as we call them, intelligence, empathy, love and the ability to fend for themselves in a more developed way.
“I think we are in a period of time right now where there is major despair out there about what is happening. This film is poignant now, coming out now post Brexit. It feels quite relevant.”
Arterton plays Helen Justineau, teacher of a group of children infected by a zombifying disease but still capable of advanced thought. In the search for a cure these kids are studied at a remote English army base.
Helen has bonded with one remarkable child, Melanie (Sennia Nanua), a youngster as lethal as the others but possessed of superior intelligence and charm. When the base is overrun by “hungries” Helen, Melanie and two others escape but not before the child shows her true colours.
“I did something bad,” she says. “I ate bits of the soldiers.” With the help of the world-weary Sgt. Eddie Parks (Paddy Considine) they make their way to London.
“If you talk to Mike Carey who wrote the book and the screenplay,” says Arterton, who broke out as an MI6 field agent in 2008’s Bond hit Quantum of Solace, “you’ll find he’s not only a great raconteur but he really knows what’s going on with science and politics and he mixes the two together. It is such interesting conversation. He’s obviously a big geek but in a really factual way.”
A case in point, Arterton says, is the virus that lies at the centre of the film.
“The disease, the fungal infection is actually something that exists. There is a colony of ants in South America that have Ophiocordyceps unilateralis,” she explains, diving into the science. “It’s a fungal infection that infects them from the inside and then they sprout and turn into a different type of ant. Then those ants will eat the other ants to survive.
“These things happen in nature. Nature is such a strong force. I love that in this film you can see nature taking back the planet.
“We actually used some shots from Chornobyl as the London skyline because
Chornobyl is this abandoned city that is completely overgrown now. We might die, but nature will be fine. The world is going to keep going without us.”
Helmed by Scottish director Colm McCarthy in his first feature-length production, The Girl with All the Gifts asks difficult questions about the price of survival, capping off the story with chilling words that may — or may not — alleviate lingering zombie phobia.
“It’s not all over,” says Melanie, “it’s just not yours anymore.”
Just when you think the zombie genre has run out of ideas along comes “The Girl with All the Gifts,” a British thriller that puts a fresh spin on the putrid genre.
When the story begins all is calm. Well, as calm as the dystopian future can ever be. A fungal disease called Ophiocordyceps unilateralis has devastated the planet, leaving those affected without free will but with a taste for blood. These “hungries” are set to take over unless something can be done. Enter a group of children infected by the disease but capable of advanced thought. In the search for a cure these children are studied at a remote English army base run by Dr. Caroline Caldwell (Glenn Close). The children are shackled to chairs, forced to wear face masks and have no skin to skin contact with the doctors, teachers or soldiers who look after them. Despite their small sizes everyone regards them as dangerous, hungry creatures—after all they did eat their way out of their wombs!—except teacher Helen Justineau (Gemma Arterton). She reads them stories and has bonded with one remarkable child, Melanie (Sennia Nanua). The youngster is as lethal as the others but is possessed of superior intelligence and charm.
When the base is overrun by “hungries” Dr. Caldwell, Helen and Melanie escape but not before the child shows her true colours. “I did something bad,” she says. “I ate bits of the soldiers.” With the help of the world-weary Sgt. Eddie Parks (Paddy Considine) they make their way to London.
“Our mission statement is to gather data,” says the good doctor.
“It was until the fence went down,” grunts Eddie. “Now our mission statement is to keep ourselves off the menu.”
“The Girl With All the Gifts” borrows from George A. Romero, Danny Boyle and even from “The Walking Dead” and yet its mix of social commentary, zippy zombies and exploding skulls doesn’t feel like a re-tread.
The addition of a child, deadly though she may be, brings empathy to a world so often devoid of compassion. It also opens up some opportunities for dark humour—“Don’t play with anybody who looks dead,” Melanie is warned—that come as a welcome break from the bleakness of many dystopian zombie-fests. As Melanie, Nanua is tremendous, bringing some real humanity to a character who lives on the fringes of humanity.
“The Girl with All the Gifts” is not as outright scary as “28 Days Later” or “Night of the Living Dead,” but it is unsettling. Deliberately paced, it slowly builds to a climax that asks difficult questions about the price of survival, capping it with the chilling words, (MILD SPOILER) “It’s not all over, it’s just not yours anymore.”
There are two and three hanky movies and then there are films like “Miss You Already” that demand more extreme measures. It’s one of those stories that is bound to inspire both happy and sad crying, so bring a box of Kleenex, or better yet, an absorbent towel.
Drew Barrymore and Toni Collette are Jess and Milly, childhood friends who have remained close even though their lives have taken different paths. Jess is an environmentalist, an earth mother who lives on a Thames houseboat with her husband Jago (Paddy Considine). Milly is a self-centered publicist, mother of two, married to a former roadie-turned-millionaire Kit (Dominic Cooper).
When Milly is diagnosed with breast cancer, her best friend is at her side but when the cancer comes back as Jess and Jago are expecting their first child the decades long relationship becomes strained.
“Miss You Already” begins as a light-hearted romp but develops into something deeper. As Milly’s cancer progresses the movie stays with her at every step, from disbelief, to anger, to denial and finally acceptance. It is unflinching—anyone who has experienced chemo will feel a twinge during the early scenes—and doesn’t pull any punches with its depiction of the treatments or its characters. Milly doesn’t become the poor sainted cancer victim we’ve seen in other films, instead she stays true to the character we met at the film’s start, likeable but not always loveable. Collette keeps it real as she works through the stages of the disease.
Barrymore brings her usual warmth and amiability but the real star is the portrayal of the effect of cancer on its victim, friends and family. “Miss You Already” captures the frustration and sadness inherent to the process but also the humour. “I look like a leopard,” Milly says as her thinning hair is shaved off. “A leper or a leopard?” replies her hairdresser.
“Miss You Already” has moments clearly designed to open the tear ducts but for the most part director Catherine Hardwicke doesn’t get maudlin, treating the material with respect but not with kid gloves.
“Tyrannosaur,” a new drama from actor-turned-director-and-writer Paddy Considine—best known for his work in films like “In America” and “24 Hour Party People”—is a grim but compelling look at a man hell bent on destruction, until he meets a woman who gives him a glimmer of hope.
I know, it sounds like the kind of thing we’ve seen a million times before, but Considine’s camera is so unflinching in showing the details of this man’s descent and devastating search for redemption that it makes the movie a singular experience.
It takes a special kind of movie to start with the killing of a dog… and then get harsher from there but “Tyrannosaur” does, and in doing so paints a harrowing portrait of the cycle of violence that has so stained its protagonist.
Joseph (Scottish character actor Peter Mullen, currently also on screen in “War Horse”) is a deeply damaged man. A widower and a drunk, he is the product of abuse, guilt ridden and prone to rages. “I’m not a nice human being,” he says, which may be the understatement of the new century. By contrast, Hannah (Olivia Colman), a worker in a nearby charity shop who befriends Joseph, is sweetness and light, but hides a terrible secret; she is abused by her bully husband James (Eddie Marsan).
Considine, who based this screenplay on his award winning short film “Dog Altogether,” weaves their stories into one, creating a character study and a look at class in Britain—highlighting the differences and similarities of working class Joseph to James’s middle class life.
It’s a grim task, but the result is spectacular for viewers with the stomach for it. He cuts no corners, avoids easy sentiment or resolutions but is aided ably by his cast. Mullen’s tight grimace says more than most of the lines of dialogue about Joseph, while Marsden is an unsettling presence, but it is Colman who dominates.
Best known as a comic actress—her credits include “Hot Fuzz” and the Britcom “Beautiful People”—she is utterly authentic—desperate and heartbreaking— in every frame handing in one of the great under appreciated performances of the year.
“Tyrannosaur” is a tragically beautiful film It’s not a journey everyone is going to want to take, but it’s a rewarding one for those who go along for the ride.
The Daily Telegraph calls writer/director Armando Iannucci “the hardman of political satire.” As the creator of sardonic films and TV shows like “In the Loop” and “Veep” he’s a vitally caustic comic presence.
