A Law Unto Themselves

An Italian sex comedy with some class – I know, I know, that sounds like an oxymoron, the great Mario Bava (Black Sunday) co-adapts and directs Four Times That Night (1971), a film that structures itself in a similar way to Akira Kurosawa’s classic Japanese motion picture Rashomon – also, for a more modern example, think of the television series The Affair (starring Joshua Jackson, Dominic West and Ruth Wilson). Looking at one fateful night, four individuals get a chance to tell their side of the story. Dealing with perspective and viewpoint, the narrative revolves around Gianni Prada (Brett Halsey) and Tina Brandt (Daniela Giordano), a wealthy man always on the prowl – this time spotting a pious young woman in Tina.

Alfonso Cuarón’s most personal film to date (even more so than Y Tu Mamá También), 2018's Roma seeps to the screen from the filmmaker’s own memories. . . a love letter to his beloved housekeeper who helped raise him in the neighbourhood of Roma in Mexico City all those years ago. His first Netflix feature, the streaming service gave Cuarón the freedom to create his vision his way. . . with a near limitless shoot time, the man not only directed, but also wrote, produced, co-edited, handled cinematography, and even shot the motion picture. Filmed in striking black and white, it is like seeing the most picturesque of monochrome postcards, but eerily intimate ones.

Predicted winners, who should win, and my favourites from this year's Oscars (the 91st Academy Awards). Catch up on all the buzz before the big event.

Some of you may get a little excited by the film I’m reviewing today – it features both bush and dick. . . get your minds out of the gutter everyone, this is obviously a look at the 2018 Academy Award Best Picture nominee Vice, written and directed by comedic turned dramatic filmmaker, Adam McKay. After reading the introduction describing the difficulties of making a film on one of the most secretive politicians in the history of the American political landscape – the one and only Dick Cheney (Christian Bale), the picture plays up its documentary style approach, jumping around more than a hyperactive kid playing hopscotch – from 9/11 to the distant past of 1963, only to bounce to 1969 – you get the idea.

An out-there European director, Yorgos Lanthimos has made waves with controversial pictures like Dogtooth, The Lobster, and The Killing of a Sacred Deer – intriguing, confounding, frustrating, and mesmerizing audiences worldwide. Now, he has made his first foray into a more mainstream style of film making with the 2018 period piece The Favourite (the first picture he and longtime co-scribe Efthymis Filippou did not write – in this case, an excellent story by Deborah Davis and Tony McNamara) – though, one thing is for sure, you cannot take the eccentric out of the Greek filmmaker. Nominated for ten Academy Awards (including Best Picture, Best Achievement in Directing, and a slew of others), the first thing immediately noticeable is the feature’s striking visual style. Intricately measured and visually opulent (most of it is shot in Hatfield House, Hertfordshire, England), it is often symmetrically framed, a very formal seriousness to the playful story. Like the structured beauty of a perfectly danced waltz, everything is in its place, the camera moving with its characters always in their position, Lanthimos often utilizing a quick 180 degree pan pirouette to provide the viewer with a quick shot of the opposing perspective. Speed is also tinkered with, slow motion and a quicker frame rate adding to the film’s mesmerizing quality. Also worth noting, every once in a while there is a fascinating use of a sort of fish-eye lens-style shot – providing a distorted, arced look to this lavish, gilded world. Hand in hand with this is the exquisite cinematography, director of photography Robbie Ryan shooting almost the whole picture with available natural light (the sun, candles, fireplaces and torches providing an eerie, romantic, and realistic vibe, adding to Lanthimos’ trance-inducing visual style).

A tale of visual trickery, rotten luck, and arguably, the bleakest of Buster Keaton’s shorts, Cops (1922) finds The Great Stone Face losing the girl (she is unwilling to even think of dating the man until he makes something of himself) – so, he heads out into the streets of Los Angeles (actually filmed on them) to do just that. Shot during the third trial of his good friend Rosco “Fatty” Arbuckle (charged with manslaughter), it is perhaps evident that the comic actor is not at his most cheerful. After making a few mistakes – Keaton’s use of the space onscreen and the items cleverly placed within it always awes and amazes, he accidentally purchases a cop’s furniture from a street scammer who has spotted that he has some dough (he also buys a horse and carriage that is not actually for sale). . . trotting away with the furniture in tow, he finds himself amidst a police officers’ parade and has the rotten luck of having an anarchist’s bomb land on the vehicle – completely unaware of what it is, he lights his cigarette with it, tossing it aside as it explodes (this idea very well could have come from fellow comedian Harold Lloyd, who, three years earlier, thought it would be funny to pose for photos as he lit a cigarette from the fuse of a bomb – it ended up being real. . . and the man lost his thumb, index finger, and a portion of his palm, it also left him partially blind for more than half a year).