I join the CTV NewsChanel to talk about the fiery “28 Years Later: The Bone Temple,” the crime drama “Dead Man’s Wire” and the shake, rattle and roll of “The Testament of Ann Lee.”
Watch the whole thing HERE!
Fast reviews for busy people! Watch as I review three movies in less time than it takes to make the bed! Have a look as I race against the clock to tell you about the fiery “28 Years Later: The Bone Temple,” the crime drama “Dead Man’s Wire” and the shake, rattle and roll of “The Testament of Ann Lee.”
Watch the whole thing HERE!
SYNOPSIS: The fourth installment in the post-apocalyptic “28 Days” film series, “28 Years Later: The Bone Temple” picks up with young Rage Virus survivor Spike (Alfie Williams) joining cult leader Sir Lord Jimmy Crystal’s (Jack O’Connell) notorious gang. Meanwhile, Dr. Ian Kelson (Ralph Fiennes) bonds with a figure from the infected world. These alliances raise an important question: who should we fear, the ruthless survivors or the infected?
CAST: Ralph Fiennes, Jack O’Connell, Alfie Williams, Erin Kellyman, Chi Lewis-Parry. Directed by Nia DaCosta.
REVIEW: A mix of brutality and compassion, and laced with dark humour, “28 Years Later: The Bone Temple” finds empathy amid chaos in a smart horror film heavy with subtext.
When the action picks up, soon after the events of last year’s grisly coming-of-age story “28 Years Later,” twelve-year-old Spike (Alfie Williams), cut adrift in the Rage Virus infected mainland after the death of his father, is a reluctant member of a sadistic gang called the Jimmies, who model their look on notorious predator Jimmy Savile.
Led by sadistic cult leader Sir Lord Jimmy Crystal (“Sinners” star Jack O’Connell), the self-proclaimed “favorite son of Old Nick,” the band of post-apocalyptic marauders—who all have names like Jimmy Ink (Erin Kellyman), Jimmy Fox (Sam Locke), Jimmy Snake (Ghazi Al Ruffai), Jimmima (Emma Laird)—make the Droogs of “A Clockwork Oranges” look like do-gooders.
As they slice-and-dice their way through the world of the infected, inflicting their twisted ritualistic torture on anyone unfortunate enough to cross their path, elsewhere, former GP Dr. Ian Kelson (Ralph Fiennes) discovers a kernel of humanity inside Samson (Chi Lewis-Parry) the Alpha leader of the infected.
In Kelson’s Bone Temple, a wooded area decked out with skulls as a loving tribute to the dead, the Jimmies’ cruelty and Kelson’s indelible humanity collide.
“28 Years Later: The Bone Temple” features many gross and gory images. Samson scoops brains out of the skull of one of his victims with his fingers, and several folks are flayed alive in one particularly unpleasant sequence, but it isn’t the horrific bloodletting that will stick in the memory. The gruesome stuff is effectively done and highlights the inhumanity of the situation, but it is one bravado sequence, laden with heavy metal swagger, that imprints.
No spoilers here, but Iron Maiden has never looked so cool or so threatening. After the sequence, and you’ll know it when you see it, the audience I saw this with cheered and burst into applause like they were at a rock concert.
Laced with commentary about empathy over evil and extremism, about the double-edged search for purpose—one that leads the ruthless Jimmies down a path to savagery, while Kelson chooses a more benevolent journey—and the power of connection, “28 Years Later: The Bone Temple” paints a vivid picture of moral complexity in troubled times. That it provides thrills, one fiery, knock-out sequence, and manages to make Duran Duran’s “Ordinary World” seem poignant, are added bonuses.
Rich in tone and story and propelled by terrific performances from Fiennes and O’Connell, it engages the head and heart.
I join the CTV NewsChanel to talk about the Lucy Liu heartbreaker “Rosemead,” the historical drama “The Choral” and the family dynamics of “Father Mother Sister Brother” and the feelgood divorce movie “Is This Thing On?”
Watch the whole thing HERE!
Fast reviews for busy people! Watch as I review three movies in less time than it takes to make the bed! Have a look as I race against the clock to tell you about the Lucy Liu heartbreaker “Rosemead,” the historical drama “The Choral” and the family dynamics of “Father Mother Sister Brother.”
Watch the whole thing HERE!
SYNOPSIS: In “The Choral,” a new historical drama starring Ralph Fiennes, and now playing in theatres, a controversial choirmaster takes the reigns of a Yorkshire choir, whose ranks have been devastated by World War I conscription.
CAST: Ralph Fiennes, Roger Allam, Mark Addy, Alun Armstrong, Robert Emms, and Simon Russell Beale. Directed by Nicholas Hytner.
REVIEW: “The Choral” is an old-fashioned, often witty diversion about music’s ability to bridge societal gaps, buoyed by a terrific lead performance by Ralph Fiennes.
Set in 1916 Yorkshire, the story is set against the backdrop of World War I, and the bloody battles of the Western Front. Their ranks depleted by conscription, the Choral Society in (the fictional town of) Ramsden is determined to continue, but first they’ll need new members and a new choirmaster.
As the locals and patients from a nearby military hospital audition for a spot in the choral, the Ramsden elders make a controversial choice by recruiting Dr. Henry Guthrie (Fiennes) as choirmaster. A gay atheist, his worst trait is that he’s also a Teutonophile; a fan of German culture.
When he chooses a piece by Bach for the choir he’s greeted with a brick is thrown through the rehearsal room window with a note calling him a “Hun muck.”
Shifting gears, Guthrie suggests staging Elgar’s oratorio “The Dream of Gerontius” instead. Although usually performed with 200 singers and a full orchestra, Guthrie persists, casting a Salvation Army worker (Amara Okereke) with a beautiful voice and Clyde (Jacob Dudman), a war veteran and talented tenor.
As the war rages, and choir members are called to battle, the choral society overcomes difficulties to provide Ramsden with a much-needed sense of harmony, both musical and societal.
There is much to enjoy in “The Choral.” As an ode to the redemptive power of art to create community and bring people together, it hits the right notes. “A man should hear a little music,” Guthrie says,” read a little poetry, and see a fine picture every day of his life, in order that worldly cares may not obliterate the sense of the beautiful that God has implanted in the human soul.”
It’s a lovely message, one at the heart of the film’s story, but when Alan Bennett’s screenplay expands to include repressed emotion, sexual awakenings and class divisions it becomes bloated with underdeveloped ideas.
Luckily, Fiennes, in a restrained but powerful performance, is the glue that holds everything together. His presence at the center of the story acts as a sounding board for the film’s various themes. Through him “The Choral’s” thoughts on community, human connection and repression come into focus, grounding the story with his humanity.
“The Choral” may try and play too many notes thematically, but when it sticks to the power of music, it strikes a chord.
SYNOPSIS: The third film in the “28 Days Later” post-apocalyptic horror franchise, “28 Years Later” takes place, as the title suggests, thirty years after the Rage virus devastated the UK. A small group of survivors lives in isolation on a fortified island accessible only by a causeway connected to the mainland. When one of the islanders and his son goes to the mainland, they discover the grim reality of the outside world. “There are strange people on the mainland,” says Jamie (Aaron Taylor-Johnson). “That’s why our home is so precious.”
CAST: Jodie Comer, Aaron Taylor-Johnson, Ralph Fiennes, Jack O’Connell, Erin Kellyman, Edvin Ryding. Directed by Danny Boyle, written by Alex Garland.
REVIEW: A grisly coming-of-age story, “28 Years Later” has elements of graphic horror, but director Danny Boyle and screenwriter Alex Garland focus on the emotional travails of its twelve-year-old protagonist Spike (Alfie Williams) to provide the film’s bleak tone. A mix and match of pulse racing action scenes and earnest introspection, it’s as much about the horror of growing up and learning about the harder edges of life as it is about the terror of the infected zombies.
Divided into two expeditions as Spike ventures into the mainland on a rite of passage with his father Jamie (Aaron Taylor-Johnson) to learn how to kill the infected—“The more you kill,” Jamie tells Spike, “the easier it gets.”—and later, as he goes back on a journey of discovery with his mother Isla (Jody Comer), the storytelling is episodic but bonded by the study of death in all its forms.
In a kill or be killed world, death is around every corner, and young Spike learns to process the existential idea of death as necessary to his own survival. His lessons deepen when death becomes personal and he learns to find meaning in loss, something that transcends the primal urge to survive.
Through death and loss, he learns about life and resilience. It’s this exploration of personal growth that separates “28 Years Later” from the previous films in the franchise which leaned into survival and systemic failures over emotional evolution.
“28 Years Later” features some unforgettable imagery. Partially shot on iPhone 15 Pro Max cameras, Boyle and cinematographer Anthony Dod Mantle adopt a guerilla style that adds a frenetic intensity to the action sequences.
An abandoned Shell petrol station with a sign missing the “S,” is a playful reminder of the terrible situation that transpired as the Rage virus turned the area into a living hell.
Later, a long sequence in Dr. Ian Kelson’s (a terrific Ralph Fiennes) “Memento Mori,” a wooded area decked out with bones as a loving tribute to the dead, infected or otherwise, is visually stunning as an eerie reminder of mortality.
Despite some choppy storytelling, and a sequel ready ending, “28 Years Later” is a welcome addition to the franchise. More reflective, it is both intellectually and emotionally intense.
SYNOPSIS: Taking its inspiration from an ancient text, “The Return,” a new historical drama starring Ralph Fiennes and Juliette Binoche now playing in theatres, is the story of a disgraced king returning from the disastrous Trojan War.
CAST: Ralph Fiennes, Juliette Binoche, Charlie Plummer. Directed by Uberto Pasolini based on Homer’s Odyssey.
REVIEW: A story of loyalty and vengeance, “The Return” is a stripped-down version of the Greek poem “Homer’s Odyssey.” Epic in its themes if not in its execution, the story derives much of its power from the performances of Ralph Fiennes and Juliette Binoche as lovers separated by the ravages of war and time.
Director Uberto Pasolini, who co-wrote the script with John Collee and Edward Bond, skips past the more fanciful parts of Homer’s poem. There’s no cyclops, divine intervention or multi-headed monsters. Instead, it skips to Odysseus (Ralph Fiennes), the legendary Greek king of Ithaca, returning home after twenty years at war. Assumed dead, unrecognizable and mistaken for a beggar, he finds his former kingdom in disarray.
His wife Penelope (Binoche) never remarried, despite the dozens of suitors who vied for her hand. As she is pressured to choose a husband to take the throne, her son Telemachus (Charlie Plummer) is threatened with death by ambitious wannabe-kings.
Before he can return home to his wife, son and throne, Odysseus must come to grips with his past as a warrior responsible for his vanquished army. “What will the people say when they see I have returned alone?” he asks. “That I led all their men to their deaths.”
Fiennes embraces this more earthbound adaptation. His Odysseus is a man beaten by war, scarred mentally and physically. “It’s everywhere,” he says of war. “It’s in everything you touch.” Just as the movie is stripped down, so is his performance. Divested of the formality and archaic language that frequently comes along with adaptations of ancient stories, “The Return” allows Fiennes to concentrate on what fundamentally makes the character interesting, his humanity.
Weary from war, he is defeated, but we still get a sense of the warrior he once was and the guile that helped him survive. It’s a terrific performance that showcases the character’s duality, at once sorrowful and frail and yet, able to muster the power that made him a king.
And, at age 61, Fiennes is ripped, sinewy and shredded, as revealed by his loose-fitting toga and a full-frontal nude scene.
Binoche is regal, displaying the kind of dualism that makes Fiennes’s Odysseus so compelling. She’s mournful at the loss of her husband, the wreck her kingdom has become and the political maneuvering that threatens the life of her son. And yet, she persists, using her wits to control the situation.
“The Return” is not a spectacle by any means. The sets and wardrobe are kept to a minimum, but the simplicity works, bringing focus to a story that could easily have been distracted by flashier design or a load of CGI.
“The Return’s” slow-ish pace and conversations with more pauses than dialogue may take some getting used to, but they are all in service of building tension, which eventually explodes in the film’s fiery climax.
“The Menu,” a new dark comedy starring Anya Taylor-Joy and Ralph Fiennes and now playing in theatres, pokes fun at the kind of pretentious restaurant experience where customers, willing to pay $1,250 a head for a tasting menu prepared by a famous chef, aren’t diners, but “ingredients in a degustation concept.”
Renowned Chef Slowik’s (Ralph Fiennes) farm-to-table restaurant Hawthorne, situated on its own, remote 12-acre island, is a hot ticket, seating only 12 people a night. The celebrity chef oversees a brigade of highly trained cooks who diligently create artfully composed haute cuisine plates with names bigger than the actual portion sizes. He’s the anti-Guy Fieri, a chef who thinks of food as an intellectual exercise rather than nourishment.
The guestlist for the night’s exclusive dinner is an eclectic grab bag of rich and famous folks. From a movie star (John Leguizamo) and a haughty food writer (Janet McTeer) and her editor (Paul Adelstein) to Anne and Richard (Judith Light and Reed Birney), a rich couple who have been regulars at the restaurant for years and a troika of obnoxious tech bro one percenters (Rob Yang, Mark St. Cyr and Arturo Castro) who toast to “work and money,” they are all under the spell of Chef Slowik. All except Margot (Taylor-Joy), the last-minute date of foodie and Slowik super-fan Tyler (Nicholas Hoult). “Slowik is not just a chef,” says Tyler breathlessly, “he’s a storyteller.”
There are rules to dining at Hawthorne. No photographs. “Chef strongly believes the beauty of the food lies in its ephemeral nature,” says the restaurant’s stern host Elsa (Hong Chau). Also, don’t eat. What? “Taste. Savor. Relish,” commands the chef. “Consider every morsel you place in your mouth. Do not eat. Our menu is too precious for that.”
In a bit of unintentional foreshadowing, Tyler scans the room and announces, “It’s official. Tonight will be madness.”
“The menu and the night,” the chef announces, “has been painstakingly planned.” Before each course Chef Slowik, who Margot sarcastically refers to as the Lord High Emperor of Sustenance, provides a flowery description of the food about to be served. As the evening wears on, chef’s descriptions become increasingly philosophical. Tensions rise in the room as the chef’s food reveals as much about the people eating it as it does about the chef’s intentions.
“The Menu” is for anyone who creates art—whether it is food, writing, paintings, whatever the form—and feels underappreciated. Slowik takes his delicious revenge on the patrons who “drained the mystery from my art” with their arrogance and entitlement, or worse, committing the cardinal sin of asking for a substation on one of his carefully constructed plates. He is done, he says, “trying to satisfy people who can’t be satisfied.”
Like the recent “Triangle of Sadness” the victims of the movie are oblivious, wealthy people who hide behind their wallets. The world, Slowik says, is divided into two groups, those who give—he and his service industry colleagues—and those who take. His elaborate menu is his gruesome retaliation on the latter.
A heaping helping of suspension of disbelief is required to enjoy the satire of “The Menu,” but by the time it makes its intentions clear, the film sates the appetite for dark comedy. It’s as subtle as fermented Surströmming (look it up) but this mix of horror and humor has more to offer than shock value. Food for thought on how art is consumed (literally in this case), it’s about the passion of the artist and what happens when it fades.
“The Menu” is buoyed by terrific performances, particularly from Fiennes as the perfectionist chef and Taylor-Joy as the pragmatic Margot, but most importantly, because all the characters are as sour as vinegar, you never quite know where the story is going. That unpredictability is exciting, leaving the characters, and the audience, walking on eggshells.
