Movie Review: THe Little Stranger

The Little Stranger *** ½ / *****

Directed by: Lenny Abrahamson.

Written by: Lucinda Coxon based on the novel by Sarah Waters.

Starring: Domhnall Gleeson (Faraday), Ruth Wilson (Caroline Ayres), Will Poulter (Roderick Ayres), Charlotte Rampling (Mrs. Ayres), Josh Dylan (Bland), Kate Phillips (Diana Baker-Hyde), Harry Hadden-Paton (Dr. David Granger), Anna Madeley (Anne Granger), Camilla Arfwedson (Young Mrs. Ayres), Amy Marston (Mrs. Blundell), Lorne MacFadyen (Dr. Calder), Dixie Egerickx (Gillian Baker-Hyde), Alison Pargeter (Maid), Sarah Crowden (Miss Dabney), Liv Hill (Betty), Kathryn O'Reilly (Elizabeth Faraday), Tipper Seifert-Cleveland (Young Susan).

 

Something is wrong with Hundreds Hall – the mansion where the once wealthy Ayres’ family lives. The family isn’t as wealthy as they once were – and the place is crumbling on the inside, even as the family struggles to keep up appearances. But it’s more than that – something in that house is infecting the three surviving members of the Ayres’ family – and anyone else who comes into contact with the house. In an interesting narrative choice, The Little Stranger is not told from within the Ayres family – but from the outside. Dr. Faraday (Domhnall Gleeson) is the narrator of the story – and he’s long been obsessed with Hundreds Hall – since the days his mother used to work there as a maid. He returns when another maid is taken ill – and slowly integrates himself into the family. And that, perhaps, is what hastens everything that happens next.

 

There are three Ayres’ left – the matriarch Mrs. Ayres (Charlotte Rampling), haunted by the death of one of her daughter’s years before, tries to keep an icy, steely exterior. Roderick (Will Poulter) is a scarred WWII veteran, who has seemingly started to go crazy – thinking he smells things in the house. He’s smart enough to want to sell the place – but no one really takes him seriously. Caroline (Ruth Wilson) is the oldest daughter, and really the one trying to keep everything together. Faraday is attracted to her – says he wants to marry her – but both of them are so chilly on the outside, it becomes clear both are after something other than love. Faraday loves that house – and wants to be there always. Caroline wants just the opposite.

 

The Little Stranger is a slow (too slow) burn of a thriller in that it takes a long time for anything much to happen. It’s told from the point of view for Faraday, but he’s so obsessed with his own thoughts, he seems oblivious to what the others in the story want or think – and they aren’t vocal about it to begin with. The film is clearly about class – with Faraday being someone who has worked his up the social ladder, but still doesn’t entirely belong, and the Ayres who belong there because of their standing, but no longer really able to afford it. The people they know look through Faraday – he’s little more than the help, which is what his mother was, and what he doesn’t want to be. It’s an impressive performance by Gleeson, who keeps everything bottled up.

 

The film slowly starts to reveal its mysteries – but even then, not really. It does seem like director Abrahamson is at times more concerned with art direction and atmosphere than anything else. To be fair, he does that amazingly well. Like he did with his last film, Room, he takes a single house and makes it visually haunting – and that hangs over the entire film. When he finally does start to reveal his secrets, he still keeps things close to the vest – right up until the final shot of the film, which explains everything and nothing at the same time.

 

The Little Stranger probably deserved better than it got – it was basically dumped into theaters with no ads in the late summer, and predictably, didn’t find much of an audience. The studio undoubtedly (and to be fair, understandably) didn’t know how to market it. It is a challenging film, and an interesting one. It’s also probably too slow for its own good – and will alienate as many viewers as it in tranches. You probably know which one you are.

Movie Review: Room

Room
Directed by: Lenny Abrahamson.
Written by: Emma Donoghue based on her novel.
Starring: Brie Larson (Ma), Jacob Tremblay (Jack), Joan Allen (Nancy), Sean Bridgers (Old Nick), William H. Macy (Robert), Tom McCamus (Leo), Wendy Crewson (Talk Show Hostess).

It’s harder in film than it is in literature to completely tell a story from inside one person’s point of view. It’s easy in literature – the author simply writes in the first person, and the reader immediately “gets it”, and also realizes that the story being told isn’t necessarily the objective truth, but rather one person’s version of the truth – and that person could either be lying, deluding themselves or simply not have all the necessary information. In film though, because the audience can see with their own eyes what is happening, we assume that everything we are seeing is the objective truth, no matter what, and so it’s harder for a film to truly put you inside of someone else’s head. Emma Donoghue’s novel Room was brilliant – told entirely from the point of view of a 5 year old boy named Jack, who is trapped in a shed with Ma, who has done everything she can to make their lives seem normal. Occasionally Old Nick shows up – and Jack knows he is to stay in the wardrobe when he does. Old Nick brings them things like food that they need – and Jack hears the grunting and the squeaking of the bed springs that we understand, that he cannot. Jack is as happy as a 5 year old in this situation can be – so it’s traumatizing when Ma tells him they need to play a game that will get Jack out of Room – and perhaps even more traumatizing once he is out in the world. Donoghue wrote the screenplay for Room – and Lenny Abrahamson directed it – and one of the most remarkable things about the movie is how it maintains Jack’s point of view throughout the movie – how it really did place the audience inside his head, and sees the world as he sees it. It’s one of the many accomplishments of the movie.

The film stars Brie Larson as Ma – and it truly is one of the best performances of the year. She is a woman who is fighting off depression, who is at the end of her rope, and puts all of her focus and energy on protecting to her – which is the one thing that is keeping her sane. The first half of the movie – set entirely in Room – is tense, as she tries everything she can to give Jack a “normal” childhood – lying to him about what is outside of Room (outer space), and who Old Nick is (someone who gets things with magic), and who the people on TV are (flat people from far away). She is protecting him from the truth of course – making things seem normal, turning things into toys and games (including afternoon yelling time, which is useless since Room is soundproof, but they try anyway). Without giving too much away, both Ma and Jack eventually do get out of Room, and I imagine most movies would end – with a happily ever after moment of mother and child triumphing over adversity. It’s simpler, cleaner that way. But that isn’t what Room does – it follows the pair of them over a period of time after they get out. Both are in some ways damaged – Ma more than Jack – and struggle with fitting in with the world.

Larson is, as mentioned earlier, brilliant as Ma – the woman who clearly cracking up, and not wanting Jack to notice. She has been building to a performance like this for a while now – her great work in Short Term 12 in particular – and she makes the most of it. But the whole movie would be in danger if the role of Jack wasn’t well cast – but luckily Jacob Tremblay delivers one of the great child actor performances in cinema history – right up there with Tatum O’Neal in Paper Moon and Anna Paquin in The Piano. It’s a remarkably subtle performance (no doubt some skillful directing played a role here), that lets us into Jack’s mind as he looks at all the strange stuff he has never seen before, and starts to slowly bond with people other than Ma. Joan Allen is wonderful as well as Ma’s mother, who calmly and patiently helps Jack come out of his shell a little bit more (Tom McCamus is fine too as her husband – who knows how to talk to children).

As dark of a film as Room is – calling to mind any number of real life horrors similar to what happens here, and not shying away from their lasting impact, it does end up as a rather hopeful film. The final scene, again just mother and child, sees Room for what it always was, and in doing so, the power it has over them dissipates. It’s one of the many moments in the film that could be seen as trying to milk tears from the audience – but in this case, Room earns those tears (and yes, I cried, but then I’m a big softie) – because the film feels honest. Room is a remarkable achievement for all involved – a giant leap forward for Abrahamson (I liked both What Richard Did and Frank – but they are nowhere near as good as this), a wonderful screenwriting debut for Donoghue, who proved (like Gillian Flynn did last year with Gone Girl) that she was the right choice to adapt her own book, and for Larson and Tremblay, who are remarkable together. This is one of the best films of the year.

Movie Review: Frank

Frank
Directed by: Lenny Abrahamson.
Written by: Jon Ronson & Peter Straughan.
Starring: Michael Fassbender  (Frank), Domhnall Gleeson (Jon Burroughs), Maggie Gyllenhaal (Clara), Scoot McNairy (Don), François Civil (Baraque), Carla Azar (Nana), Hayley Derryberry (Simone), Lauren Poole (Alice), Tess Harper (Frank's Mom), Bruce McIntosh (Frank's Dad).

There is a myth that great artists must suffer to achieve their art – a myth that is perpetuated by many works of art about artists. Think of almost any biopic of a great artist or musician, and you’ll most likely find a story about mental illness, abuse, poverty, drug addiction, etc. There is also another myth – that everyone has something of interest to say, some talent in them waiting to get out, and that if you just want it enough, and just work hard enough, you can achieve anything. But sometimes that just isn’t true – mental illness, abuse, poverty and drug addiction do not really fuel creativity – they hinder it. And not everyone has something of value to add to the whole wide world – no matter how much they want it. These are the basic themes behind Frank, and they are harsh truths that must movies do not acknowledge. Yet, I think the movie somewhat undercuts its rather harsh message by disguising it all as a quirky comedy, that doesn’t dig into its characters, or its themes, quite deep enough. The movie simply skims the surface of its darker themes – although it must be said that it is a rather pleasant surface.

The stars Domhnall Gleeson as Jon – a 20-something British office drone, who fancies himself a musician – although the songs we hear him trying to compose in the film’s opening scenes are quite simply awful. One day, he sees an odd thing happening at the beach – a man trying to drown himself, while the paramedics try to haul him out, and a van of onlookers stand by. They are a band – and he was their keyboardist, and has gone crazy, leaving them a man short for their shown that night. “I can play keyboards”, Jon volunteers – and just like that a strange journey begins. The lead singer in the band is Frank (Michael Fassbender) who wears a giant paper mache head everywhere he goes. The rest of the band think he’s a genius – and soon they’ll all holed up at a cabin in the middle of nowhere Ireland “recording” their new album. Jon is won over by Frank – but the rest of the band, including Clara (Maggie Gyllenhaal) hate his guts. His only real ally is Don (Scoot McNairy) – the band’s manager.

As the movie moves along, it becomes clear that Frank is not just “eccentric”, but is actually suffering from some sort of serious mental illness. The band is really just his enablers – they allow him to dictate everything they do, which doesn’t include very much actual recording of music for months on end. And Jon simply envies Frank – figuring he must have suffered throughout his life to make him the genius that he is. The music we do hear – and we don’t hear nearly enough of it in the movie – is a strange psychedelic, electronic growl, with impenetrable lyrics – that I actually quite liked, but is clearly not made for mass consumption. But Jon thinks the band can actually be popular – they should just write more “likable” songs. While at first, his bandmates hostility towards him seems unfounded – he really may as damaging to Frank that they think they are. When they finally leave Ireland – and head to Austin, Texas for South by Southwest, the movie takes a darker turn.

There is a lot to like about Frank – from the music, to Fassbender’s fully committed performance behind a paper mache head, which somehow does not prevent him from creating the most fully realized character in the film. Gleeson is also quite good as the delusional Jon – who cannot see himself, or really anything around him, clearly. These two characters are the heart of the film – the rest of the cast isn’t really given much to do, even talented actors like McNairy and Gyllenhaal are basically wasted – and they represent the dual themes mentioned above.

But I don’t think director Lenny Abrahamson is quite able to navigate the story’s dark turn as it moves along. The score is distracting – overly cute, quirky indie score, which is at odds with the music that Frank and his band produces. And the last act feels like it should be much darker than the tone of the film that he actually achieves. There is real stuff going on beneath the surface here – but the film pulls some punches. It must be said though that the final scene in the movie is probably the best – and the most moving – in the film.

I wanted to like Frank more than I actually did. I think there is a lot of interesting stuff going on beneath the surface of the film – but I don’t think the movie quite knows how to handle it. The film is more serious, and darker than I assumed a film about a man in a giant paper mache head would be – but had it fully embraced its darker themes, it could have been great, instead of average.

Movie Review: What Richard Did

What Richard Did
Directed by: Lenny Abrahamson.
Written by: Malcolm Campbell based on the novel by Kevin Power.
Starring: Jack Reynor (Richard Karlsen), Roisin Murphy (Lara Hogan), Sam Keeley (Conor Harris), Gavin Drea (Stephen O'Brien), Fionn Walton (Cian Fox), Lars Mikkelsen (Peter Karlsen), Lorraine Pilkington (Katherine Karlsen), Padraic Delaney (Pat Kilroy), Patrick Gibson (Jake Galvin), Liana O'Cleirigh (Clodagh Grady), Rachel Gleeson (Eimear Byrne), Gabrielle Reidy (Eileen Harris), Mella Carron (Sophie Kilroy).

Everyone loves Richard. He’s charming and good looking – a star athlete in high school, who isn’t the kind of arrogant bully so many star athletes appear to be – or at least are portrayed that way in American movies. He takes shy, awkward JV players under his wing, he protects a young teenage girl when things may be going too far, and he’s kind to his mom. In short, Richard seems like the perfect teenage son. But in then Richard does something truly monstrous – and his whole world starts to collapse in around him. He’s plagued with guilt, and this is made worse by the fact that although a lot of people know what he did, none of them are stepping forward to rat him out. In fact, they all willingly lie for him – although in doing so, it diminishes his sterling reputation in their eyes. The thing that makes the new film What Richard Did so interesting is that the movie leaves the central question for the you to answer – Is Richard a good kid who did one horrible thing, or is his outward charm and kindness just a cover for a much darker, more violent person underneath? No matter what your answer to this question is, no one can really tell you that you’re wrong.

 Richard is played in a star making performance by Jack Reynor (Michael Bay apparently saw the movie and it was the reason he has been given a major role in Transformers 4 – too bad because Reynor is far too talented to be slumming it in a franchise like that). At first, it seems like the first half of the movie is painting Richard as almost a saint. Sure, he gets into some teenage mischief – but it’s all harmless fun. It’s only after the turning point in the film when you look back at some of what Richard does in the first half in a different light. If we forgive him at first for stealing Lara (Roisin Murphy) from one of his team mates, Conor (Sam Keeley), it’s because it genuinely seems like Richard and Lara are better meant for each other – Conor seems a little immature. And Richard is at least nice about it – as is Lara. But what then do we make of scenes after that, but before the incident where he seems, if not exactly cruel to Lara, at least a little thoughtless (asking if she got a new top, and when she replies yes, waiting more than few beats before complementing it, the way he criticizes her “performance” with his parents – in what seemed like a perfectly normal dinner sequence). And what of his behavior towards Lara after the incident? Is it all because of the guilt he feels, or is there something darker lurking there?

In case you haven’t figured it out, I’m not going to reveal what Richard did in the movie to give the film its title. It is the type of incident that could happen to a lot of teenage boys when hormones, alcohol and volatile teenage emotions are in play. It’s not really what Richard did, but it’s what Richard does after that really calls his character into question.

What Richard Did is a fascinating movie because of the central question. My own take is that Richard was always harboring some dark, violent impulses – impulses that I’m not sure he even knew he had, and that dealing with that is perhaps even harder for him than the guilt over what he actually did – I’m not sure he really feels an empathy, which is what the final scenes imply, since he makes no effort to actually do what he says he will. But it’s to Reynor’s credit that his performance allows that his performance allows for an alternate interpretation – that Richard is really just a screwed up teenager, who made a horrible mistake, is stricken by guilt – and is really just a scared little boy. There are moments in the film’s second half, where I felt that as well.

I like movies like this – movies that do not spell everything out for the audience, but instead allows the audience to decide precisely how the want to read things. This is the type of movie that I know will frustrate some audiences simply because it doesn’t spell everything out for them. But for me, this is the type of movie I enjoyed – the questions are more important the answers in the film. The film itself is not quite as good as Reynor is in the lead role – it is a little too calculated, and everything fits together a little too nicely for that. But this understated character study is a fascinating little movie – and should make a star out of Reynor.