Interstellar

An exhilarating synthesis of motion and melody, Interstellar falls just shy of  greatness. Save for some far-fetched sequences, thinly developed characters and unnecessary sentimentality, Interstellar still manages to come through as an artful wonder. Powered by a phenomenal score, courtesy of musical mastermind Hans Zimmer, and the transcendent cinematography of Hoyte van Hoytema, the entertainment meets the typical Nolan standard. The feature boasts the innovation of Inception, the smooth confidence and grace of The Dark Knight series and the fascination of Memento. The film, however, still leaves much to be desired, its intellectual stamina drawn more from fantasy notions than science, its improbability and fanciful concepts distracting from its true potential and insight. It's sheer scale and ambition is to be admired, aesthetically the film reaches new heights and whilst some will view the Interstellar odyssey as one absurdly constructed, others will revel in its compelling nature.  

Interstellar tells of an unspecified future where the earth has deteriorated and innovation is at a standstill. NASA physicist, Professor Brand (Michael Caine), recruits a team, including his own daughter, Amelia (Anne Hathaway), and former pilot, Cooper (Matthew McConaughey), in a mission to salvage the human race by locating a new inhabitable planet via a worm hole. It is Cooper who must determine whether to remain on earth with his family, including his young daughter Cooper (Mackenzie Foy), or to risk his life in hopes of keeping their future alive. 

Visual & Sound Diary: Pan's Labyrinth (2006)

Visual & Sound Diary is a weekly feature where I explore a chosen film of distinctive cinematography and musical composition via the score, soundtrack and stills. This is how it works: click play on the link supplied of the selected music and scroll through the images. Be reminded and inspired of the cinematic splendour. 

Note: the last shot is my pick for the best shot.

The twisted fantasy world of Pan's Labryinth is one widely admired: its darkness and complexity is portrayed as a haven against the horror and cold of the real world. Accompanied by startling imagery, original monsters of spectacular horror and an interesting premise, Pan's Labryinth is an icon of Spanish cinema. Director Guillermo del Toro, endeavoured to create a rich and compelling storyworld and in that he has succeeded. Set in rural Spain of 1944 during the civil war, the film tells the story of a young girl who is sent along with her pregnant mother to live with her new stepfather, a sadistic army captain. She escapes the violent and brutal reality and into a sinister, fantastical world co-existent with her own. There she meets an old faun who tells her of her origins as a lost princess but must prove her royalty by completing three challenges. 

Pan's Labryinth is the elaborate showcase of cinematographer Guillermo Navarro's formidable talent and is easily his best work. The film transcends a subtle, supernatural beauty and makes full use of its stunning art direction. The feature is a sublime collision of war story and fairytale, its diverse and strange fusion of characters is a awe-inspiring attraction of the feature. Rarely will you find fascist army captain, fairy and grotesque child-eating monster of one film. The original score crafted by notable film composer Javier Navarette is a worthy accompaniment of the stunning visuals. The chilling, classical Long, Long Time Ago is a potent lullaby, evoking the mystic quality so singular to Pan's Labyrinth.  

Visual & Sound Diary: Amélie (2001)

Visual & Sound Diary is a weekly feature where I explore a chosen film of distinctive cinematography and musical composition via the score, soundtrack and stills. This is how it works: click play on the link supplied of the selected music and scroll through the images. Be reminded and inspired of the cinematic splendour. 

Note: the last shot is my pick for the best shot.

Easily one of the greatest French films of the 21st century, Amelié is a whimsical wonder, an intrigue of the cinema. The feature is rich in detail and stock full of peculiar characters with beautiful eccentricities. It's narrative arc is distinguished early on as an unusual one and its visuals are appropriately imposing and phenomenally creative. The film is accompanied by an easily memorably sweet, simple score. Each frame of Amelié is an explosion of colour and the shots are often off kilter, the camera moving in smooth but unexpected ways. In the technical sense, Amélie is of masterpiece standard. The lurid singularity of its style must be recognised. The film tells of a young Parisian girl, impossibly naïve, quirky and sweet, whom manages to look at the world in a wonderful and simple way. She relishes not in pursuits of success or wealth but in the simple pleasures of small justices and satisfying curiosities. 

The distinct work of director Jean-Pierre Jeunet is often compared to that of Wes Anderson. Both film-makers are fond of voice-over narration, organised, symmetrical set designs and unconventional, detailed characterisations. However, Jeunet is evidently more ardent on establishing his characters - his creations may be aesthetically pleasing but they are anything but superficial. A certain poignancy and fervent passion afflicts his films, where Anderson often presents dead-pen, shallow characters (although this is completely intended). Jeunet also strives to establish his flawless shots in a more natural passage, as if such an image could really be seen by the naked eye in a Parisian street. As showcase for the musical magic of Amélie, I have selected the tantalising "Comptine d'un Autre Été" by composer Yann Tiersen.

A Week in Spring

A calm spring week suddenly spiralled out of control. I'm entering into exam period and I have an assignment worth almost half of my unit due too soon. But what really knocked my schedule completely off kilter is my new job. I'm finally waving goodbye to four years of wrist-breaking waitressing! My new gig is considerably more stressful although perhaps less strenuous (in terms of physical activity). It's receptionist work at a medical clinic and it's looking pretty sweet so far. This shouldn't stop me from applying to a few independent cinemas (my dream part-time job) this summer however. I've also almost completely recovered from surgery and can walk like a normal functioning human being! But I still need all the empathy and pity I can get because working 32 hours a fortnight and trying desperately to study for 3 exams on top of an assignment means zilch time for movies. So below is an ode to my last week, my final week of cinematic wonder for a month...

Son of a Gun

From the go, we are engrossed by action. Son of a Gun provides high-quality, stimulating entertainment and encapsulates everything that a decent thriller should be. The film is loaded with enigmatic characters, a wonderfully constant state of anarchy and compelling power play between its key antagonists in an Australian Michael-Mann-style confrontation. The film also chronicles a poignant love story which steers clear of overcomplexity. All of this is finished off with some astounding sound-mixing and a strangely affecting soundtrack of exquisite entries such as a masterly remixed track of Bon Iver's "Perth" and the moving "Enter One" by Sol Seppy. Whilst not a distinct departure from classic crime flicks, the feature demonstrates competence on every scale from its consistently absorbing narrative arc to the effortless execution of every role. Son of a Gun is a confident debut feature by director Julius Avery who does well to avoid the trappings of the archetypal Aussie thriller.

Son of a Gun's leading light is the young 19-year-old delinquent JR (Brenton Thwaites) of an ambiguous, unconfirmed history. As he arrives at a high-security prison for the first time, he comes in contact with Australia's public enemy No. 1, Brendan Lynch (Ewan McGregor). Soon enough, in desperate need of protection within the walls of brutal confinement, he becomes Brendan's protégé. When JR is released is six months later, he begins to pay his extensive debts and is quickly involved with organised crime of the highest order, from heists to prison breaks. 

Visual & Sound Diary: The Great Beauty (2013)

Visual & Sound Diary is a weekly feature where I explore a chosen film of distinctive cinematography and musical composition via the score, soundtrack and stills. This is how it works: click play on the link supplied of the selected music and scroll through the images. Be reminded and inspired of the cinematic splendour. 

Note: the last shot is my pick for the best shot.

Artistically indulgent and philosophically grounded, The Great Beauty or Le Grande Bellazza, was the most distinguished foreign language film of 2014. The Italian Fellini-esque feature swept up nearly every imaginable foreign language film nomination, from the Oscars to the Golden Globes (albeit the Palme d'Or loss). And with good reason. The sights and sounds of this film are simply revelatory, innovations of cinema. At large, The Great Beauty is an exposition of the cityscape, a love letter to Rome. It is extravagant and melancholias, the film feels as though it is in a constant state of mourning. It even seeks to question the quality of modern art with pragmatism and humour. 

The most distinct merit of The Great Beauty is the achingly nostalgia of its narrator, an ageing writer and socialite of the Roman high life. His wistful reminiscence of a distant youth is told via spectacular cinematography and a soul-stirring, time-honoured soundtrack - a compilation of aged symphonic compositions. The film makes use of many tracking shots to capture the sheer architectural magnificence of the city. It features Rome to be one of almost jarring combinations of the contemporary world and the ruins and preservations of the old. The contemplative temperate of The Great Beauty is not to be missed. Truthfully, the feature is no doubt loaded with vague notions and philosophical tangents but most simplistically it captures a beauty which is not forged but elaborately shown. 

Shooting Location: Rome, Italy - Lungo Tevere, Via Veneto, Parco Degli Acquedotti, Palazzo Spada

Gone Girl

The artful, twisted mind of David Fincher can only be described as a cinematic minefield. His latest directorial effort, the cold, dark beauty Gone Girl, affirms this once and for all. In true Fincher style, the film is a cooly calculated vision - striking, confident and smoothly executed. Stylish and potent, this thriller is wrought with strategically arranged scares and has the audience feeling like the floor might fall through at any moment. There's a lethal, rather frightening proficiency and perfection to the structure and style. The film establishes Fincher as a truly prolific, engaging and creative storyteller. What he has crafted so meticulously is a pair of parallel realities, a battle of twisted perceptions equally rich and compelling. We are shown, in spectacular fashion, how from innocence, malevolence and neglect spawn and spread like spirited wildfire. Gone Girl is no typical "he said, she said" story. Fincher makes sure of that.  

At first glance, Gone Girl tells but a simple tale. On the fifth anniversary of their marriage, Nick Dunne (Ben Affleck) reports the disappearance of his wife, Amy Dunne (Rosamund Pike). The film depicts how gradually, under the pressures of investigation and the media torrent, the image of their marriage, once of glowingly perfection, begins to crumble and crack. The union is revealed to be one painted with fear, infidelity, guilt, insecurities, violence and blackmail. But then whose story is this? And does it bear any resemblance to the truth? 

Visual & Sound Diary: The Piano (1993)

Visual & Sound Diary is a weekly feature where I explore a chosen film of distinctive cinematography and musical composition via the score, soundtrack and stills. This is how it works: click play on the link supplied of the selected music and scroll through the images. Be reminded and inspired of the cinematic splendour. 

Note: the last shot is my pick for the best shot.

Set in the stunning, picturesque, unruly territory of New Zealand, The Piano is one of the most visually spectacular films ever created. The images and sounds are endlessly complementing and succinct, the music raw and simple - engaging seamlessly with movements on screen. The Piano chronicles a strangely unconventional love story that is both darkly erotic and emotionally potent. It tells the story of a young mute woman sent to New Zealand with her daughter to wed a wealthy landowner by arranged marriage. Music is her solace and her piano, a yielder of true happiness. When it is sold, her endeavours to regain it land her in rather curious, perplexing circumstances. The powerhouse performances of Holly Hunter and the vibrant, young Anna Paquin are arguably the best female performances of the 90s. 

The score captures the eerie, somewhat spectral nature of the story, highly unusual in the hotly defined genre of 19th century romances. The emotive piano compositions are elegant as they are spirited. The work of English composer Michael Nyman is traditionally understated and although his contribution to film is sparse, the rare musical delights he does forward to the cinema are unforgettable. Cinematographer Stuart Dryburgh, in some contrast to Nyman, although harbours a lengthy filmography is not always consistent. His best work, however, is not doubt of The Piano: each shot of the feature is a stunning passage of storytelling triumph. 


Shooting Location: NZ - Karekare Beach, Auckland Region

Boyhood

Boyhood is a milestone in cinematic achievement. Director Richard Linklater has captured the simple, unadulterated poetry of mundane life. The feature achieves the spectacular. It provokes you to feel, appreciate, reminisce, yearn, understand, accept. Within a period of 166 minutes be prepared to feel overwhelming nostalgia, aching melancholy, simple elation and an inherent satisfaction that it all happened. Thought-provoking beyond measure, the feature is a cinematic revelation, an allusive celebration of life and family. Boyhood is perhaps the most personal, accessible film ever to grace to the cinemas this decade, hell this century. Emotional extortion and dramatic orchestration of events is entirely forgone. Instead Linklater has shown a modern audience that real life is already full and extraordinary and noteworthy as it is. Boyhood provides reflection, insight and simple showcase of the completely ordinary growth of one young boy. We can only watch in awe as we are touched with the familiarity, accuracy and honesty of its portrayal. 

As with most of Linklater's features, Boyhood is uncontrovertibly without plot. Instead, lives are lived, lessons are learned, hearts are broken, memories are created, forged, treasured, forgotten and nostalgia runs wild. We watch the steady, subtle, entirely natural progression of a young family and in particular Mason Evans, Jr (Ellar Coltrane). We witness the growth of one boy's skewed vision and the significant experiences of his young life which in collaborative magic produce a naïve yet ambitious and insightful young man. 

Visual & Sound Diary: Atonement (2007)

Visual & Sound Diary is a weekly feature where I explore a chosen film of distinctive cinematography and musical composition via the score, soundtrack and stills. This is how it works: click play on the link supplied of the selected music and scroll through the images. Be reminded and inspired of the cinematic splendour. 

Note: the last shot is my pick for the best shot.

Joe Wright is one of the finest, most understated contemporary directors currently working. Atonement is surely the prolific film-makers crowning achievement, among a rich (although short) resumé of flawless period dramas. The film boasts one of the most affecting scores of this decade by Italian composer Dario Marianelli. The ingenious masterstroke of the score is its symbolic correspondence with story elements - the integration of typewriter noises and the strong voices of an army chorus. The moving compositions of the war sequences are breathtakingly elegant. In particular is the streamlined 4-minute shot of the British invasion of Dunkirk. Presented in this shot is the greatest treasure of the score: the elaborate, melancholias Elegy for Dunkirk (featured below) - an epic and chilling musical arrangement. 

Each frame of the film is beautifully saturated without ever looking forged or synthetic - the colour contrasts are appropriately dazzling, the cinematography most distinct in its range. Many of the iconic images from the film, the fountain, the room, the lake and the typewriter are featured below. The film is structured in a most intriguing manner, the first half occurring in real time over the course of one day. The second half of the feature examines the resounding impact the events occurring on that one day have on the rest of their lives.  It's a story of a young girl's imagination, the thin line between realities and dreams, of consequences, remorse, of war, of lust and pride and above all, a desire for Atonement. 

Shooting Location: The UK - Redcar, Streatham Hill, south London, Stokesay Court & Grimsby