The long-term effects of abuse and control are detailed to vivid and violent effect in “Resurrection,” a new psychological thriller starring Rebecca Hall now playing in theatres.
Hall is biotech executive Margaret, a confident and mentor leader at work, a loving single mother to daughter Abbie (Grace Kaufman) at home. Her off hours are occupied by feverish physical training and a fling with married coworker Peter (Michael Esper).
Into her carefully constructed and compartmentalized life comes David (Tim Roth), an unwelcome visitor from the past. At first his presence exists only in the periphery. He attends a conference, almost unnoticed, sitting several rows in front of Margaret. Later, she sees him at a department store, and confronts him as he reads a newspaper in a park.
Turns out, David wants to rekindle their relationship, an abusive situation Margaret ended twenty-two years ago by fleeing, changing her name and rebooting her life. But, two decades later, the scars of their time together remain. Margaret is instantly flooded with memories of his physical punishments, which he paradoxically calls “kindnesses,” and the disappearance of their son Benjamin.
Fearing for Abbie’s safety, as well as her own, Margaret slowly unravels as David attempts to reassert his control over her.
“Resurrection” is a tough movie to describe without giving away salient plot points. It is the story of the lengths a person will go in defence of their loved ones and sanity. The more outlandish aspects of the story—no spoilers here!—only dig their hooks in because of the power of the performances.
Margaret’s turn from self-confidence to dazed-and-confused is expertly handled. From discipline to desperation, Hall’s change is complete. Her transformation is most effective in its subtlest moments, when her shifts in mind set are telegraphed by the twitch of an eye or a faint change in posture. A seven-minute monologue that reveals the nature of Margaret and David’s history is played out in one long, unedited close-up and is a master class in how to present exposition that hits all the right emotional notes.
Roth has less to do, but brings an air of menace to every frame of film he appears in.
“Resurrection” culminates with a horrifying scene that throws everything that came before into question. It confronts the audience with a gory scene that asks, How much of what we’ve just seen is real, and how much is fantasy? It is an unforgettable scene in the style of Ari Aster or David Cronenberg, but overpowers the film’s interesting look at female trauma, gaslighting and repression.
On this week’s Richard Crouse Show we meet Katherine Ryan. She is a Canadian who moved to England in 2007 and now Brits know and love her from the many panel shows she’s appeared on, her wildly popular no-filter podcast Telling Everybody Everything or her Netflix comedy-drama “The Duchess.”
She also has a new series, Backstage with Katherine Ryan, which will showcase live stand-up sets from beloved and emerging comedians.
She’s known for being hilariously herself in a non-apologetic way, so it doesn’t comes as a surprise that her latest project, a memoir that details her rise to U.K. fame and her Canadian life before that as a Hooters waiter and Ryerson student, and before that her life in Sarnia, is called “The Audacity.”
We’ll also get to know actor Tim Roth. The English actor is perhaps best known for his collaborations with Quentin Tarantino, movies like “Reservoir Dogs,” “Pulp Fiction,” “Four Rooms” and “The Hateful Eight.” He is a Golden Globe and Oscar nominated actor who returns to theatres in Sundown, an intriguing film about a man who radically changes his life. We’ll talk all about that movie, his memorable turn in Pulp Fiction and his upcoming role in “She-Hulk,” opposite Tatiana Maslany later in the show.
The we meet comedian Charlie Demers. CBC radio called him “one of the smartest comics out there.” He is an acclaimed Vancouver playwright, author, radio personality, voice actor and comedian and also has a new comedy album called “I Hope I Don’t Remember This My Whole Life” available now wherever you legally buy and download albums.
Each week on the nationally syndicated Richard Crouse Show, Canada’s most recognized movie critic brings together some of the most interesting and opinionated people from the movies, television and music to put a fresh spin on news from the world of lifestyle and pop-culture. Tune into this show to hear in-depth interviews with actors and directors, to find out what’s going on behind the scenes of your favourite shows and movies and get a new take on current trends. Recent guests include Ethan Hawke, director Brad Bird, comedian Gilbert Gottfried, Eric Roberts, Brian Henson, Jonathan Goldsmith a.k.a. “The most interesting man in the world,” and best selling author Linwood Barclay.
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“The Song of Names,” based on Norman Lebrecht’s award-winning novel, is a story of two people sent off in different directions searching for lost family members.
The action begins in 1951. On the eve of his debut concert performance, for a packed house, including kings and queens, Polish musical prodigy Dovidl Rapoport (Jonah Hauer-King) disappears. His adopted English family, including brother Martin (Gerran Howell) is distraught. They first met Dovidl as a nine-year-old who, when he moved in with them to study violin, declared, “If I snore I snore in tune. I am a musician!” The family kept him safe from the Nazi threat and groomed him for greatness.
Cut to 1986. Martin, now played by Tim Roth, is adjudicating a music competition in Northern England when a contestant uses a technique that seems very familiar. Thoughts of his erstwhile brother have consumed Martin and this simple but unique method of rosining the bow sets Martin on a journey that will take him to Poland and finally New York City. His quest has one simple purpose, to find out why Dovidl (played as an adult by Clive Owen) left.
As a celebration of music “The Song of Names” is terrific. Legendary composer Howard Shore has written new music, including the “Song of Names,” a moving recitation of the names of all the Jewish people killed at Treblinka. It’s a powerful moment, solemn and heartrending, that is the film’s absolute high point. More playful is a violin duel in a London air raid shelter between the nine-year-old Dovidl and a teenage rival. Both scenes display the power of music to move us, whether it is to tears or to applause.
It’s the detective story that falls short. Clues that have eluded Martin for decades suddenly become obvious and the journey, such that it is, seems less like a mystery and more like a game of “Where’s Waldo.” More intrigue may have brought with it more emotional weight.
“The Song of Names” is a handsome, if somewhat dreary historical drama that does hit the emotional notes it needs to succeed.
“The Padre,” a neo-noir starring Nick Nolte, Tim Roth, Luis Guzmán and newcomer Valeria Henriquez, is the story of a trio of opportunists all headed to the same place, all searching for something different.
Henriquez is Lena, a young determined Columbian girl trying to find a way to get to Minnesota. “First God takes her parents, “ says a friend, “and then a family in Minnesota takes her sister. Like they bought her on the internet.” Lena sees the Padre (Roth), a white man with some money, as her ticket to the United States and being reunited with her sister. She becomes his apprentice, a toughie with an attitude and an aptitude for grifting. Hot on their heels are retired U.S. Marshall Nemes (Nick Nolte) and local cop Gaspar (Guzmán). For Nemes the hunt is as much personal as it is professional. “He needs to pay. Then I die happy. I lashed my hate to a spear I aimed at his heart,” he grumbles.
“The Padre” ambles its way through the lives of the main players, slowly closing the gap between the hunters and the hunted. The three above the title stars, Nolte, Roth and Guzmán, deliver in familiar roles—Nolte is once again the grizzled face of law enforcement, Roth is another skeevy character while Guzmán plays a convincing second fiddle—but it is Henriquez who steals the show. She is at once gritty and vulnerable, a girl born of poverty who has had to survive by her wits. Henriquez pulls it off and emerges as the film’s most interesting character.
Shot in Colombia, “The Padre” is beautiful looking, a sun-dappled noir that pops with colour. Director Jonathan Sobol has an eye for the locations, it’s just too bad the story isn’t as colourful as the setting.
It must take some clout to get a movie like “The Hateful Eight” made. Over three hours, with an overture and an intermission, it’s a western featuring an assortment of dastardly people doing dastardly things. It’s the kind of talky, violent film only Quentin Tarantino could conceive of, let alone get financed.
Set a decade after the Civil War, most of the action happens during the “white hell” of a Wyoming blizzard. Eight people find themselves holed up at Minnie’s Haberdashery, the last mountain pass stopover before the town of Red Rock.
Bounty hunter John Ruth (Kurt Russell), his prisoner Daisy Domergue (Jennifer Jason Leigh), infamous union soldier-turned-bounty-hunter Major Marquis Warren (Samuel L. Jackson) and proud southerner Chris Mannix (Walton Goggins) arrive by stagecoach. They’re on the way to Red Rock, where Daisy will be hung for her crimes while Ruth and Warren will split the bounty on the woman’s head. Mannix claims to be the town’s new sheriff, but given his rebel past no one believes him.
They are met by Minnie’s handyman Bob (Demian Bichir), Red Rock hangman Oswaldo Mobray (Tim Roth), cow-puncher Joe Gage (Michael Madsen) and Confederate General Sanford Smithers (Bruce Dern). The storm keeps them housebound, thrown together by circumstance, not choice.
Suspicion soon spreads like a virus, infecting everyone in the room until a sudden burst of violence changes the dynamic.
There are no heroes in “The Hateful Eight,” nary a Cary Grant or Randolph Scott in sight. Instead Tarantino brings together eight tough ‘n terrible people, puts them in a room and lights a fuse. The first half—yes, there is an intermission—is dynamic and tense. Secrets are uncovered while Tarantino skilfully manipulates the claustrophobic situation, edging it toward the inevitable bloody climax. It’s dynamic, gritty stuff that places the focus on the actors—Jackson, Goggins and Jason Leigh lead a terrific cast—and their actions and sets the scene for what I hoped would be an exciting, character driven second half. The first half ends with a bang—literally—a blast that signals the change in tone to come.
The second part is where “The Hateful Eight” gets bloody… and problematic. Tarantino spends the length of most features to provide a set-up, one that hints at a powder keg situation about to erupt, and then adds another element—there will be no spoilers here—that undoes the good work from the first half. To me it felt like a cheat, a great unknowable wedged into the story to move things along. At that point the movie becomes a lot more Peckinpah but less interesting.
There is no doubt Tarantino is pushing the envelope here. This is a defiantly uncommercial film—for the first half anyway—whose indulgences—use of the “n” word, lingering shots of cruelty and gore—detract from what is essentially the director’s master class in genre filmmaking.
Everything about “The Hateful Eight” is big. It features big stars set against a vast backdrop of snow and revenge. There are huge themes—revenge, triumph of the righteous and race—and an even bigger blood budget. In some theatres (like the one I saw it in) it’s even being projected in the grand 70mm format. It’s a Valentine to Tarantino fanboys and girls, with Ennio Morricone’s lush score as the cherry on top.
It’s big and daring but also, I’m afraid, bloated, with a pay off not large enough to justify the more than three-hour running time.
Patricia Clarkson’s new thriller, October Gale, sees her working with frequent collaborator Ruba Nadda and starring opposite Callum Keith Rennie, Tim Roth and Scott Speedman.
“Can you imagine I got to be in a film with those men?” she says. “I arrived on the set and said, ‘Oh my God Ruba I have died and gone to heaven.’ Not only are they beautiful men, physically, but if you threw all their handsomeness out the window, they’re gorgeous actors. First class, top of their game, singular actors.”
The New Orleans native, an Academy Award nominee for Best Supporting Actress for her performance in Pieces of April, plays a doctor mourning the loss of her husband. For solace she retreats to a remote cottage in Georgian Bay. Her time of quiet reflection and healing is disrupted, however, by the appearance of a mysterious and seriously injured young man, played by Speedman.
October Gale is the second collaboration between Clarkson and director Ruba Nadda.
“Ruba and I are very similar gals,” Clarkson says. “We like our hair and our lipstick and our high heels. I have four older sisters and Rubba is truly like the little sister I never had. We are like family. We have a second language now. It’s kismet. I think I’m just the luckiest gal to know her and to have her so deeply in my life; in my professional life, in my personal life. I know her family now. I know her sisters. I know her parents. She knows all my friends in New York City and Los Angeles. We’re just family and yet we are able to separate all of that when we enter the workplace. We’re both workhorses. We’re very high energy, we don’t take no for an answer, we’ll fight to the death. She’s Syrian-Palestinian and I’m Southern, so watch out.”
Their first film together, Cairo Time, was the Best Reviewed Romance on Rotten Tomatoes for 2010 and soon they will begin work on a series for HBO. Clarkson says her on-set relationship with Nadda is based on respect and the director’s unique vision.
“Ruba has the courage to make films that people want to make,” she says, “the kind of movies auteurs think they’re making but she actually has the courage to do it.”
October Gale, for instance, Clarkson says, doesn’t have “a traditional thriller pace. It’s Ruba Nada pace.”
“October Gale,” a new film from “Cairo Time” director Ruba Nadda, is a hybrid of romance and thriller that cares about it’s characters more than it does about moving the audience to the edge of their collective seats.
Patricia Clarkson is Helen Matthews, a Toronto doctor grieving the loss of her husband (Callum Keith Rennie). For solace she retreats to a remote, picturesque cottage in Georgian Bay. Her time of quiet reflection and healing is disrupted, however, by the appearance of Will, a mysterious and seriously injured young man, played by Scott Speedman. She plays nurse, they talk and flirt and soon Helen finds herself drawn to the stranger. Trouble is, Tom (Tim Roth), the man who wounded Will to begin with, has every intention of dropping by to finish the job.
“October Gale” has all the elements of a thriller—people with mysterious pasts meet in a remote location on a dark and stormy night—but Nadda subverts the conventions of the genre by taking her time getting to the thrills. Instead she builds the tension carefully, walking through Helen’s grief in a beautifully played first act. Clarkson is at her best here, subtly and beautifully showing not only her loss but also her resiliency in the face of sorrow. Once we get to know Helen, William appears adding another layer to the story. By the time we get to the thriller aspect of “October Gale” Nadda makes sure we care for and are invested in the characters.
“October Gale” isn’t a typical thriller. It’s a thriller without many thrills, but lots of soul. Nadda does not slavishly try and ape Hitchcock or the other masters of the genre, but follows her heart instead.
“Selma” is a snapshot of a time. Instead of trying to cover the width and breadth of Martin Luther King’s life and accomplishments, director Ava DuVernay hones the story down to one seminal event, Dr. King Jr.’s march from Selma to Montgomery, Alabama. It’s an effective and uncluttered approach that brings one of the biggest events of the civil rights movement into sharp focus.
The heart and soul of the film is Annie Lee Cooper (Oprah Winfrey), a Selma nurse who tries to register for the vote. The legal right is hers, but this is 1965 and a racist county clerk asks her a series of questions to make sure she is qualified to vote. After she recites the Preamble to the U.S. Constitution he asks her how many county judges are in the area. “Sixty-seven,” she replies confidently. “Name them,” he says, stamping Denied on her application.
Cooper is not a main character. She pops up now and again, but the power of this scene informs the rest of the movie. She is an average woman who stood up for herself and neighbors, and with the help of Martin Luther King Jr. (David Oyelowo) and a dedicated group of civil rights workers broke down barriers in a state where the governor (Tim Roth) is firmly in favor of segregation.
“Selma” is a powerful movie not just because of what it does show but because of what it doesn’t show. There is no “I Have a Dream” speech or Bus Boycotts to be seen. Instead the script focuses on the salient details of the Selma marches which leaves time to humanize and get under the skin of the Dr. King and several of the other characters.
The movie is helmed by a gobsmackingly good performance from Oyelowo as King. He’s righteous, fiery and but plays King like a man, not an emblem. It is career making work but he’s not alone in handing in powerful work.
Winfrey’s big scene is a showstopper, a quietly played moment of frustration, hurt and anger, all of which flash across her face in a nicely underplayed role. For me, however, the movie’s most effective scene happens between King and an elderly man, Cager Lee (Henry G. Sanders), who has lost his son in a burst of race related violence. The men meet in the morgue and say what you might expect people in that situation to say to one another, but the look of Sanders’s face, in the presence of the civil rights leader, is heartbreaking and hopeful simultaneously.
“Selma” is a historical document, but so alive and timely, it is essential viewing almost fifty years after King’s assassination.
