Rosie imitates life

Movie review

We are in a crisis, for so long now that art is imitating life. We have a housing crisis movie. Rosie brought back the distressing feeling I had put aside linked to the impossibility of finding a suitable place to live, so beware.  

Paddy Breathnach takes us for a drive around Dublin with Rosie and her four kids. They are searching for accommodation; at the words “county council credit card”, hotels reject her request of a family room, they are six counting her partner John Paul, who works at a restaurant. We may hear that same exchange of words many times, none of them make the heroine lose her calm or lose our hope.

Roddy Doyle delivers a non-judgemental script that describes the reality of looking for a home in Dublin these days. The story is centred on a family, but there are common places for most of us renters or ex-renters in the Irish capital can relate to. It can sound overly dramatic, but how many times did you see yourself auditioning for an apartment? And right there, when you are sharing the room with 30 other people in a viewing, also getting that dirty look as if you were that actress they think is a few years too old to get the role.  

Cathal Watters gives a beautiful realism to the housing states and the out-of-the-way places where most hotels that would take Rosie’s family in for the night seem to be located. Sarah Greene holds the weight with her magnificent depiction of a mother in challenging times. Her meeting with Ms Hennessy is heart-breaking and the breaking point for a stoic woman that fights to maintain her family routines. She does not live in denial; she does what she is expected to even though her family is missing one basic element: a home.

Kids who can act naturally are hard to come by, however, the children cast are nothing short of talented and believable. The situations are all very familiar, a tantrum because there is no space to move in a car (seriously, there’s no need to be an active child to get freaked out after spending days inside a vehicle), a teen escaping her misery by staying at a friend’s house or an upset child because she is being mocked about her particular circumstances.

Rosie reminds us of the best Ken Loach, the one that makes you uneasy when you leave the cinema and at the same time can marvel you with well-articulated story that is absolutely worthy of your time.

It was not long ago the county councils built houses that until date stand as examples of quality and solid construction, they were for people to live in. The art is imitating life, because life as it is, the housing crisis as it is, has been happening for a few years now. Hopefully we don’t have to wait for a novel to awaken consciences.

Let the Right One In... at the Theatre?

Soft and gentle Oskar could not be found at the Abbey tonight. It is hard and sometimes unfair to compare an adaptation with a very accomplished original. Let the Right One In (Tomas Alfredson, 2008) is one of those gems people hesitate to recommend, but never because of its lack of quality and only perhaps due to how odd or inadequate it feels at times.

Let the Right One In opens with the story of Oskar, a quiet kid who is systematically bullied at school. Not an original topic. But see, the only friend Oskar manages to get close to and keep is Eli, a slightly older girl who incidentally needs to be fed blood to survive.

John Lindqvist's script is a difficult one to stage. Adapted by Jack Thorne with choreography by Steven Hoggett, it is the story of a young girl condemned to lose the love of her life over and over. Some may say it is also problematic to make into a film, since the girl’s life partner’s character could be misinterpreted easily. The horrors of her double life and her need for blood are challenges this production at the Abbey accepts and presents successfully to a more than frightened and engaged audience. Be aware, my companion at the play got accidentally slapped on the face by the lady sitting next to him at one of the jumpy bits.

On stage we found without difficulty the animalistic impulse that makes Eli an unsettling friend for Oskar. We discover too, how isolated and detached the boy feels as his relationships with those around him get icy, no matter if they are family or school mates. The lucky charm for Alfredson’s production was a couple of young actors whose natural ability and undeniable chemistry made of the 2008 film an appealing and delightful coming-of-age story. But Oskar’s hesitant voice was nowhere to be found on the Abbey stage, neither was Eli’s angst and profound sadness. Craig Connolly attempts to convey the naiveté and enthusiasm of Oskar but he is far from Kåre Hedebrant’s performance. Katie Hunan misses the serenity and maturity that Lina Leandersson gave to Eli. Are these elements missing only because of a much older cast?

The stage design (Christine Jones) and effects deserve great credit in this adaptation. The snow covered forest, where terrible things are about to change Oskar’s town forever, is a wonderful background and resourceful backdrop to express the coldness and desolation most characters suffer throughout the story. Winter trees and a climbing frame that holds one of the most impressive visual artifices of this production offers in its final scene, are the basic elements that remain visible. Others such as the candy shop, Oskar’s bed or the gym lockers are brought in with subtlety and discreet flow with the help of Hoggett’s choreography.

Thorne’s adaptation translates well the horror elements onto stage, almost impeccably, with some exceptions such as its last scene. Despite the marvelous ace in the sleeve of designer Jones in the closing scene, the spectator is at risk of feeling overwhelmed by the strident lighting and disco effects. A pity the play does not leave room for the imagination in its final moment.

13 Reasons Why or the 20 Year Reunion Vaccine

I was one of those kids who read YA books, lots of them. It was almost sad when they were no longer suitable for my age! And I still reread some fragments or books I first approached on that period of my life. Why? I think with their arguably simplified realities they connect easily with readers (and viewers in this case) at an emotional level. Kids with your name or age, at times stereotypes at times very well defined characters, made you think about serious stuff. I mean, I have never tried any speed, amphetamines or ecstasy, but I knew their effects well before I knew where to buy them. I am not sure if this will horrify any parents, but the truth is topics such as drugs, sex, suicide, alcohol are a present or absent part of a teenager’s life. As terrifying as this sounds, the more scary thing is to ignore these facts. Ignoring those temptations/dangers is what starts the communication problem. At a young age if you don’t have any older brother or friend who has your best interest at heart you may end up doing really stupid things, so will your kids.

Other issues also have a great effect in teenagers; I’ll give you two powerful ones: appearances and bullying. They are both exceptionally well depicted in 13 Reasons Why. The wish to belong pushes most characters into pretending they have done something intentionally (when they haven’t). Courtney or Marcus seem to repeat to themselves the mantra: “I need to stay part of the group of the cool kids, my principles don’t matter.” As young adults, we discover an array of possibilities about people’s behaviour: right, wrong and anything in between. Some always seem to be on edge and push boundaries, try their luck. I think the edgy teens can be divided into two groups: the popular and the wish-they-were popular kids. The popular ones, well you know them all, in my school they were the wealthy kids, those who lived in some particular areas in town. In 13 Reasons Why they are the athletes (Justin, Bryce, Zack), who are treated as divinities and make the mere mortals feel out of place just by walking down a corridor. The second group is the one of the kids who try to belong, and somehow, no matter how pretty, funny and charming they might be the mass doesn’t seem to accept them. Unfortunately here is where the suicidal kids fit, your Hannahs. There is another group formed by the kids who hope for this particular time of their life to end soonish enough and for these silly rules to fade away as they become adults. The let-this-be-over-soon group, your Clays.

I have read, prior to watching the show, some reviews of 13 Reasons Why in which the series has been accused of being very irresponsible TV right, left and centre. As if by portraying teenage issues they were manufacturing them. As many YA oriented products it does have in common the mentioned simplified reality, there is nothing else but what is happening to the characters, no historical period, no social issues... And everything feels so final, so dramatic. Perhaps this simplification doesn’t make it suitable for an adult audience, who sees it as a manual for all the things a teen could do wrong.

You will be happy to hear I have never been involved in a knife fight and I read The Outsiders (Susan E. Hinton, 1983) more than once, almost obsessively. I mean, I shiver at the thought of seeing any act of violence up close. I have never stalked or followed anyone to figure out what their deal was and Veronica Mars was (still is) one of my favourite shows of all time. I have never attempted suicide or felt depressed but one the books I reread the most in my teenage years was Pupila de Águila (Eagle’s Pupil; Alfredo Gómez Cerdá, 1989) a noir novel about a girl with a sad family past also linked to suicide and the way she meets a troublesome kid who does not feel all that willing to live. I have never ever tried ecstasy or any synthetic drugs, but I read avidly Campos de fresas (Strawberry Fields, Jordi Sierra i Fabra, 1997).

Going back to the tearing-apart reviews, the common complaint is that the show romanticises suicide. I don’t think so, Hannah gets to tell her story, but I don’t think it escapes to anyone, not even young adults, that she is gone forever. She misses many opportunities to join that let-this-be-over-soon group (she seems to have too much self-awareness to become one of the popular kids…) and living her own life.

And yes, I get the tone Hannah talks to her piers is arrogant, almost self-righteous, but we learn to wait and listen before judging as the show moves forward. We start the show thinking the tapes are a silly spoiled girl’s cry for attention, but soon discover the frustrations and terrifying effects of bullying and of being objectified. As Hannah says, “you have never been a girl”. In a time of self-discovery, being defined by someone else’s opinion can be harmful and leave a mark for life. And yes, this sounds like as enunciated by a drama queen, but the truth is we are all dramatic, intense and feel very strongly about most things when we are teenagers, even if we don’t show it in our wardrobe and make up choices. The issues we survive seem to be designed to last forever.

13 Reasons… does a good job portraying high school life. We all have experienced the magnetism of a party and how we are cool just by walking into one. There is no doubt the sexual assault is a disturbing occurrence in the show as it is suicide. Both are experiences we can’t come back from as the same person or come back, period. Teens are not zombies, they want to do, feel and live things, most of them new to them, but teen life does not put them in a bubble, it makes them more fragile. We see anxiety, abuse at home and trouble accepting sexual orientation. If we are disturbed by the idea of choosing a career at 17, guess what the dealings with those problems can cause to a teen.

I enjoyed the (dark) dose of sense of humour, the irony. Also the small dose of nostalgia served with the soundtrack. I was amused by the wink to the old media, even if Hannah goes for tapes just to make things awkward, not with the spirit of a vinyl’s collector. But as she says at the beginning social media makes everything worse, or makes it grow exponentially. Here is a technology we did not have in our teens, yes I am old, a kind of progress which will make even of helicopter parenting a real challenge.

13 Reasons Why is like a teen’s mix tape. It has cheesy and cool stuff in it. It may sound overplayed, I mean we all got sick of the “keep listening”. Its pace lacks balance, even though in theory its structure could work well on TV. It becomes more watchable and moreish from episode 5 or 6, perhaps because we give more credit to the gone-girl’s claims. Watching from the sidelines may seem a coward approach to high school. However, waiting for a more inviting environment to show who you really are makes sense. Freedom is waiting on the other side.

Perhaps my only problem with the show is the fact that in real life the probability of a knight in a white horse (or a bike) taking revenge on those who wrong you after you are gone is thin. Dying does not guarantee you the last word, only living does.

Bones + Longing, Gemma Hayes

Album Review

Laughter opens the latest Gemma Hayes' album Bones + Longing almost as a mission statement. This new version of There's Only Love (Let it Break, 2012) conveys Hayes strengths: emotional raw vocals, going intentionally heavy on production and subtly crossing to poetic territory with the lyrics. The journey continues with the hopeful I Dreamt You Were Fine that introduces the guitar riffs this Irish singer songwriter has accustomed us to since the very beginning of her career. Iona and To Be Your Honey fit in this work as loving mantras. Palomino is pure Hayes, that sweet preference for 'quiet ones' at the rhythm of a timeless melody reminiscent of Cathy Davey's The Nameless. Joy and Making My Way Back are the proof heartbreak is not always required to write a good love song; neither do you need to be cheesy. This album is for those who enjoyed the delicate vocals in The Hollow of Morning and the electronic sound and honest words contained in Let It Break. Bones + Longing is an authentic chanting to love, kindness and happiness close to Death Cab For Cutie in its sound combined with Hayes' personal glass to look through; noticing people and the world around her. It is the perfect soundtrack to elevate a small event or a well-known landscape to the 'special' category. Hayes confirms herself as one essential voice in the Irish indie scene with a well-crafted work that can be judged by its cover, a minimalistic and expressive work of art, which hides a meaning for each of us. Though it needs to be said Bones + Longing is an intensely personal work and may leave listeners who are not on the same wavelength feeling left out.

Granuaille: Queen of Storms, O’Brien Press

Review

The Irish Constitution states that women give, by staying at home, a support to the State "without which the common good cannot be achieved". One has to wonder what pirate Queen Gráinne Ní Mháille would say about modern day Ireland; in which we seem to have undone what she achieved as a female citizen in the 16th century.

At a young age Ní Mháille became a leader of her clan in Connacht, running the trading and shipping business after her father, Eoghan Dubhdara Ó Máille. Granuaille was a powerful figure, an independent thinker and a fearless protector of Gaelic society.

 

Granuaille: Queen of Storms is the second in a series of incursions by O’Brien Press into Irish folklore through the graphic novel format. The comic explores some of her personal tragedies and some historical events which have contributed to give an air of legend to her reputation as a ferocious pirate. As the comic depicts, Gráinne Ní Mháille's life was linked to adventure and foreign expeditions, but also to violence and loss.

 

Her role as the clan leader meant resisting the constant attack of Sir Richard Bingham, English governor of Connacht, in a time when the Empire fought incessantly to control the Ireland beyond the pale. Granuaille always stayed loyal to her principles despite the obstacles she encountered. Where she confronted the distrust and had to control the disagreements coming from advisors close to her father and later to her.

 

Granuaille is a strong female character with principles, a strength Dave Hendrick exploits efficiently in this story. Hendrick pitches an idea about a real feminist leader, an intelligent move considering the amount of young female readers out there. The research and the highlights presented in this book seem to represent fairly, although taking some creative license, what Granuaille achieved.  It’s a good introductory tale, but perhaps the low page count, under seventy, makes it difficult for the story to breathe and be fully self-contained. We come across a couple of jumps in time, ellipsis in the narration and flashbacks that may lose the reader momentarily.

 

The book's artwork reveals Luca Pizzarí's excellent qualities for character design. The storytelling through images is not flawless, some of the sequential art requires some revision to be accomplished at a hundred percent. Although this doesn't stop the artist creating a world of pirates, storms and political turmoil and wrapping it up with a cover that elevates his main character to the level of heroine.

 

A special mention should go to Dee Cuniffe's colours, who experiments with an old fashioned look for this book, very suitable for a historical graphic novel. The colours fit perfectly with Pizzari's expressive and detailed panels. Cunniffe's palette, full of greens and blues for Ireland and reds and oranges for the ‘invaders’ are a testimony to the knowledge he has of his craft.

 

Unluckily Peter Marry's lettering doesn't integrate as well as the other graphic elements in this book. The general appearance of this otherwise very attractive edition suffers the lack of creativity in this area and the perhaps overlooked lettering process (at least from the graphic point of view).

 

The creative team behind Granuaille: Queen of Storms is formed by Dave Hendrick, Luca Pizzari and Dee Cunniffe. Hendrick, has published web comics for almost six years and has played an important role in the organisation of the Dublin International Comic Expo (DICE) and the Cork Comic Expo 2015. Pizzari has recently been hired by Marvel to illustrate a Spider-Man Special series and Secret Wars Journal #2. Dee Cuniffe, who does the colours in this project, is a flatter for some of the most important colourists at an international level.

Granuaille: Queen of Storms is an inspiring look into Irish folklore, seemingly suffering the absence of an editor with more experience in graphic novels. These circumstances, a natural consequence to the Arts Council funding cuts affecting comic books publishing in Ireland, may be the cause of a less polished edition when compared to Celtic Warrior: The Legend of Cú Chullain, the first in a series of Irish legend/historical graphic novels launched by O'Brien Press.

This is not a children's book, it is clearly aimed at a young adult and an adult audience, able to understand the historical value of exploring this character. Also the violence contained in the illustrations, a reflection of the times Ní Mháille lived in, would make it unsuitable for a younger reader. 

 

In a society with a lack of trustworthy leaders, reading about such a stimulating character in Irish history is a must. This graphic novel is a good way to approach the character for the first time. It will definitely spark your curiosity about Granuaille, a figure who tried to protect the cultural wealth of the emerald island until her last breath.

Glassland

Review

Glassland is the story of a son acting as a parent. It is a tale about the heart-breaking effects of exchanging roles because of addiction. “You are a good boy”, says Jean to her son John. A son who certainly gains the sympathy of the audience by trying to find his mother in the monster she has turned into; in that insensitive and self-centred addict who rejects anything and anybody else but her handsome and caring son.

John (Jack Reynor) works long hours as a taxi driver to support his family. These days he is not able to recognise Jean (Toni Collette) who has fallen into alcoholism. He takes care of her the best way he can, but she is killing herself slowly, passing out drinking and becoming this animalistic addict who lives only to have that one last drink. The nature of John´s work and the shame of asking anyone for help to save Jean from her self-dug hole of desperation, make him a lonesome individual. He transforms into a man unable to give away much about his feelings and his real circumstances, even to those seemingly closer to him. John lives in Tallaght, in a terraced house, but he is detached from the world.

Director Gerard Barrett makes an honest incursion into the loneliness that comes with handling a traumatic experience such as this. It passes a few days in these characters´ home, makes them talk and explain, not just with words, what it´s like to live with an alcoholic -or a heroin addict, or a cocaine user…- and watch the destruction they are bringing upon themselves. Collette gives life to a character we don’t feel for, but who we hope recovers for the sake and efforts of her devoted son.

Glassland is set in Dublin, in Tallaght to be more precise, but it´s a movie that could have been filmed anywhere. When addiction hits a family, the way to deal with it, the wish of wiping everything away and a fresh start is all common ground. As much as it is the isolation that takes over whoever is fighting the battles to recover a relative from their illness.

The orange lamppost light, the raindrops in the windshield and a bitter cold air allow us to recognise Dublin in this film. But it also helps to set the tone for a frank and hard story about the reality of being in charge of someone´s life, even though the natural order says you should be the one still being taken care of. This is not a difficult watch because of the violence on screen or the dramatic scenes. The silence and the contained anguish we can see in John´s eyes speak up more than any more violent interaction between him and his mother.

Those traditionally dramatic passages leave a mark on the viewer. John’s recording with his mobile phone or his speech to convince Jean to check into a rehab centre. But the most disturbing moments come from a domestic setting such as having a glass of wine and a chat with your mum. Who is this stranger he is taking care of?

Glassland is a singular movie because of the way it came together, it was filmed in sixteen days and it managed to get Colette to play one of the main roles. Certainly the clarity about what the story should be like and the freedom enjoyed by its director does this film a great favour, and so does the outstanding acting featured in it.

Barrett doesn’t use a soundtrack in the conventional sense. He does experiment with the sound and editing to create tension. This manipulation of the background noise, the dead silence and the louder interactions puzzled together make this film an unsettling tale that will leave the cinema with you. Glassland will challenge you with elements of your own, close or hopefully not that close, dysfunctional family.  

Reading at the Movies

Opinion

Let me set the scene: November 2006, Guillermo del Toro’s Pan’s Labyrinth is about to start in a half-full screening in Cineworld. The narration of this unconventional fairy tale commences and the subtitles begin to appear. Then some random guy shouts at the screen: “Oh, come on! I don’t want to have to read the movie!” Guy walks out of the cinema. Can this event be taken as a microcosm of Ireland’s treatment of foreign cinema?

The Jameson Dublin International Film Festival (JDIFF) was launched a few days back, and as any other year many cinema fans will lay out a plan to watch as many movies as possible at the festival; they know they’ll have no access to some of those at a commercial screening again. The question here should be if Ireland is partly disconnected from European and world cinema. Dublin is one of the cities with the highest attendance per capita in Europe. Are distributors willing to offer varied cinema programming to this numerous audience?

The JDIFF is an opportunity to see Italian, Danish, Brazilian, Romanian, Ethiopian and an endless list of other nationalities represented in the screens all over Dublin. Looking at the IFCO website (www.ifco.ie), for wider releases from March until May we see a very different picture. There are about 40 movies with confirmed dates. From these titles the 75% are films in English, seven of them come from the UK and four from Ireland. Nearly half of the remainder are Japanese animation movies and the other 12.5% are productions from Italy, Argentina or Sweden coming to our screens nearly a year after they have been released in their country of origin.

There are other ways to enjoy foreign film in Dublin. We have the French Film Festival at the IFI, or the premieres organised also in collaboration with the French cultural institute, the Alliance Française. Mood Indigo (2013) by Michel Gondry comes to mind as one of the events that was successfully organised under their auspices. Also, initiatives do exist, such as the film club CineCafé, a collaboration between Instituto Cervantes (the Spanish cultural centre) and the Pearse Public Library, to give the chance to watch cinema in Spanish regularly. Or the Short Shorts from Europe Festival organised by EUNIC (European Union National Institutes for Culture) shown at the IFI and the Cork Film Festival, showcasing the best short films of the year from a wide range of European countries. However these are few and far between and do not benefit from widespread publicity.

The Lighthouse Cinema, mostly dedicated to commercial art movies and international cinema opened in 2008 after a twelve years break, in its new location in Smithfield. After three years, the Lighthouse experienced financial problems that forced their founders to take a new break until 2012 when they reopened its doors again. This third time, the programme included some commercial titles and the cinema has traded successfully since. Why was it impossible for the Lighthouse to survive with solely art and international programming?

And then of course you have the already mentioned IFI, where you may be able to watch a variety of foreign, as not-in-English, movies. A pretty skimpy selection some may think, that combined with Cineworld’s offer can help you approach those more successful titles. But, the IFI brings scarcely a representation of what is in offer in the continent and the timing just doesn’t feel right sometimes. Think about Persepolis (2007), one of those European films of incredible success. The adaptation of the best-selling graphic novel by Marjane Satrapi, won the Jury Prize in Cannes. However, the release date in Ireland was almost a year later than in France.

Last year the screening of The Wind Rises during the Japanese Film Festival at the Lighthouse, was absolutely packed and I wonder if that is a good indicative about the audience in Ireland or at least Dublin being ready to watch foreign films, whether they have to read them or not… Although Japanese animation seems to have a healthy representation in the commercial screenings in Dublin, perhaps due to their having an English dubbed version (as opposed to just a subtitled version) available at the time of its release.

Whether the guy in Pan’s Labyrinth is the ‘man in the street’ or he does not represent the local audience, is that risky for a distributor to follow the trends of other capitals in Europe? Is it so alien to allow for successful titles at International festivals to be shown in Dublin?

The Europa Cinema’s, the international network of the cinemas for the circulation of European films, exists as a distribution channel through the IFI and the Arts Centres throughout the country. So we may not be only talking about a distribution issue. Perhaps the media have a part in this lack of interest in subtitled films being available. Educating the audience is giving them the chance to see and appreciate different productions; this may be the key to a wider access to European and world cinema.

The Blessing of the Irish Star

Opinion

Irish cinema deserves a chance. But often we see extremely positive reviews promising the moon. What happens next is: viewers come out of the movie either slightly or greatly disappointed. Let’s just settle this upfront: a four to five star movie is technically acceptable, has decent acting and a well-plotted story. This is the bare minimum. If any of those elements fails, the others have to be outstanding for a film to remain in the ‘very good’ category.

Just a few weeks ago, Niall Heery´s Gold received four stars in The Irish Times. Heery’s second production (after Small Engine Repair, 2006) is fine; but the script is not accomplished enough to be worthy of a very good review. The funny fact is that even that positive review points out “there’s not a great deal of plot to the piece”. The reviewer had a job to do, and this wasn't to be too kind.

Going back a few years, let’s take The Runway, (Ian Power, 2011). Film Ireland paired it with The Guard (John Michael McDonagh, 2011): “between this and The Guard, it looks like 2011 will be a great year for Irish cinema”. The Runway didn’t accomplish any of The Guard’s success in the box office. Even in this review, there are remarks about certain flaws in the script. The Runway was a breath of fresh air but again a solid three stars movie, nothing more. It's understandable a small industry invites self-censoring on the part of critics, but this shouldn't translate into back patting.

It’s been seven years since John Carney’s Once hit Irish cinemas. Carney’s first feature film was considered “an unexpected treasure” by RTÉ within weeks of its release. The Irish Times also gave it a four star rating calling it "irresistibly appealing". Is Once an enjoyable and original approach to the musical genre? Yes, definitely. But Carney’s musical featured two lead actors outside their comfort zone while not playing music, which is not completely ignored in RTÉ’s review: “Once has wonderfully natural performances from the two leads. Although musicians first and actors second”. Once presents some continuity and technical goofs, one of the obvious ones is the drummer looking into the camera in the studio scene. Carney’s film gained the 'very good' classification with an okay story, acceptable acting and being technically sufficient, which shouldn’t have elevated it to the altars of the four and five stars.

We have mentioned three enjoyable movies, and certainly small victories within an industry that doesn’t produce twenty feature films every year as per the information available Irish Film Board website. Picking out names of media giving away an extra star, ‘the Irish star’ may not be seen as constructive criticism. But, it needs to be said, a non-reliable review makes the audience jaded about local cinema and it doesn’t allow for honest feedback to reach the creators.

Partly because of extremely positive reviews, the audience doesn’t consider Irish productions a safe choice; let’s not forget going to the movies may be a once a month occasion for an average family. Over appreciation discredits the critic, but never mind that, the movie industry is the one that suffers the most.  Balanced criticism is the only valid path for Irish cinema to win a place in the entertainment market, and to gain back the trust of its audience.

Shiver the Whole Night Through

Book Review

***

Shiver the Whole Night Through is the first Young Adult (YA) novel by Darragh McManus, best known as a crime writer. McManus’s book is ambitious in the themes, as it goes into consequences of bullying and even touches superficially on the topic of teenaged suicide. It does so through a noir-supernatural-horror-romance combination.

                               

Aidan Flood is a teenager on the verge of committing suicide. He has good reasons to be depressed, but a traumatic experience makes him delay his attempt and eventually changes his mind about ending his life. After a local beauty, Sláine, is found dead, Aidan tries to confirm the causes of her death. Something tells him she did not commit suicide as the Guards think; she doesn’t strike him as the type. In his search for the truth, he receives help from Sláine who comes from the other side, falls for her -as this new non-corporeal being- and discovers the secret history of his hometown and its spooky forest, Shook Woods.

McManus mentions in the foreword that there is a soundtrack to the book, with melancholic and even spooky songs to help to set the eerie tone for those reading. As in this foreword, there are several moments where I see the writer not letting the story explain itself. There are certain occasions, in Aidan's transformation as a character -suggested by his actions and thoughts- that McManus has a tendency to over explain. The way some scenes are picked apart is distracting, especially since such explanations may not be needed by a sharp reader.

Shiver the Whole Night Through, whose title is taken from a Nirvana song, does set a depressing and later a scary tone, which is diluted a few chapters in. At this point, romance and the inherent Irish humour lighten the events, soften the tone and even brighten up the story. Aidan finds in Sláine that someone he thinks he can trust and finds himself as the protagonist of quite a fantastical story (with supernatural, horror and noir elements) from which he doesn't want to escape.

The narration is done through Aidan, his thoughts and what he sees. It is a fact the reader is able to put two and two together, well before the character admits something to himself. But this doesn't steal any credibility to the character, who becomes more mature and confident gradually, and it’s consistently well written.

The action lacks pace. The story takes a few days to get going -the novel is set in a period of several months- and the plot seems to drag around a couple of times until we confront the final conflict and resolution. It explores the changes in Aidan's life, how he recovers his self-esteem and becomes a hero in the traditional sense (with a little help from his friends).

You can appreciate McManus decision of setting the story in Ireland and do it with all its consequences. He uses Irish names, expressions and even references to some stereotypes about Irish people, like not doing "emotional honesty” with members of your family. This is a brave choice, since a vague location may help a YA novel, at least from the distribution and selling point of view.

Shiver the Whole Night Through is an ambitious book. It succeeds to define its characters. Although the mixture of genres works out fine with the tone of the story, in some cases it operates as a distraction for the reader to solve this supernatural puzzle.

The Mariner

Theatre Review

****

There is no hiding place in the set decoration for The Mariner. The action occurs on a naked stage with a sole chair, an old portrait and a change of clothes suspended from the ceiling. The stage resembles the hold of a ship, conferring it with a cold look. The three actors remain on stage at all times, turning their backs to the audience when they are not involved in the action.

Peter Shanley (Sam O’Mahony), a Royal Navy sailor, is sent home after the World War 1 Battle of Jutland in the North Sea. He carries a letter in which very little is explained about the circumstances for being discharged.  He is unable to speak and his head is covered in bandages. The state he is in causes two very disparate reactions in his wife, Sally; and his mum, Mrs. Shanley. It’s as if he was two different men. Sally (Lisa Dwyer Hogg) is happy to see her husband again, who she barely got to know before his enlistment. Mrs. Shanley (Ingrid Craigie) is convinced the sailor is not her son and constantly looks for proof of the intruder's identity.

The tension builds throughout the play around the figure of the sailor, whose uncertain identity creates a conflict between two members of his family. And also, what we could consider the symbols of two generations: one who calls for freedom in the year of the Easter Rising; the other who is in favour of the Empire.

The mariner regains his ability to speak in the course of the play, a progress that reveals the splendid text by Hugo Hamilton. Words are the only protective shield left to the actors. The words that intensify the conflict and make the audience uneasy with a question: who is this man interrupting Sally and Mrs. Shanley’s life?

Sally is a loving wife who sweetly undresses her husband and helps him to become the man she once knew. She tries to make him remember and infuses the scene with passion, tender feelings and caring gestures. The couple’s swing on stage represents all of this, and a memory of their time together as husband and wife before his departure. She personifies the hope for the new, for change, for better things to come.

Mrs. Shanley is obsessed, needs reassurance about her son’s identity and seems almost inclined to believe anything but that Peter has returned home safe and sound. She holds ont0 the old ways and would prefer if no change would occur at the end of her life.

Dwyer Hogg holds a significant weight in the performance. She is convinced the sailor is Peter and happily welcomes the love of her life, gone for a long time. Craigie answers this situation with distrust and anger that she directs to that man whom she doesn’t believe to be her son.  As the story moves forward, the mariner becomes a civilian and finds again his own voice, which inevitably will result in one of the other characters to be expelled from the scene.

A hidden picture of the Royal Navy sailor found by Hugo Hamilton as a child, of who he thought it was his dad’s father (The Speckled People, 2003) inspires a compelling story about what war does to men, and what comes back from it.

The sounds of a town, of the harbour and a few minimalistic piano pieces complete this atmospheric play. A piece invaded by a claustrophobic feeling despite being performed on a stage populated just by words.

The Book of Life

Movie review (published by Geek Ireland, October 27th) 

****

Colourful sugar skulls, marigolds and the imaginative universe of Mexican El día de los muertos -the day of the dead- inspire Jorge R. Gutiérrez’s first film for the big screen.

The story of The Book of Life, shared by a mysterious museum guide, is the tale of three close friends: Manolo (Diego Luna), María (Zoe Valdés) and Joaquín (Channing Tatum). Manolo and Joaquín are both in love with María, who is sent to Europe to become ‘a lady’. María's return a few years later is the cause of the confrontation between her friends, who compete to gain her love. Nothing too revolutionary so far, but here is the twist and the disturbing secret behind the scenes. La Muerte, Queen of the Remembered, bets against Xibalba -who rules the World of the Forgotten-, as she is certain Manolo will triumph over Joaquín to conquer María's heart. But this is not just a love story or a tale about a silly gamble; this is an adventure that may bring an end to humankind, which is, unfortunately, in hands of these two volatile creatures from the other side.

The Book of Life is delightful: the character design and the worlds we see throughout the story are visually stunning. While the museum parts are not particularly interesting, the wooden figurines -used to represent those living in the town of San Angel- and the Remembered -inspired in the mentioned sugar skulls- are an absolute treat. The 3D version enhances its very detailed design and takes the audience's experience a step forward, as it did with Coraline (Henry Selick, 2009). The characters in the land of the Remembered have a slight resemblance to some of Tim Burton’s latest creations, but their aesthetic is so much more astonishing.

For those less familiar with the festive tone of El día de los muertos, it may come as a surprise a children's movie can come from the celebration of the dead. The explanation is simple, in Mexico, remembering who have departed is a way to keep them alive. Mexican folklore does not only make possible this wonderful movie, but enriches the stimulating colour palette and the visual aspects of it. This is a film not only for the small ones, but for anyone: though you may be in danger of coming out of it with a bit of a visual sugar-high.

A general audience may also enjoy pop references such as Creep sang by conflicted Manolo, forced to become a bullfighter to continue with the family tradition. Mumford & Sons’ I Will Wait is also featured, but with a mariachi taste. And let’s not forget to mention the traditional Cielito lindo, sang by Spanish tenor Plácido Domingo, no less. These songs, a wink to those forced to bring the little ones to a Halloween movie, are the source of comic gags, and fit naturally in Gustavo Santaolalla’s score.

The Book of Life has first class talismans: Ron Perlman, pop music, Oscar winner’s soundtrack, Diego Luna's charm and of course, Guillermo del Toro's blessing. Jorge R. Gutiérrez takes a brave approach to animation, incorporating Mexican folklore elements and spinning them off to create one of the most spectacular animated films of the last few years.

In this globalised world, in which we forget to pay attention to the cultural wealth that vibrates all over the globe, it’s refreshing to receive a title that not only familiarises us with other traditions, but that does so in an engaging way for all ages. This is a real Halloween treat; do not miss it for the world! n, it may come as a supfestive tone of this tradition, it may come as a sup

Love, Rosie

Movie Review (published by Geek Ireland, October 21st)

***

Love, Rosie is a British -slash German- movie, based on a novel by Irish writer Cecilia Ahern (it’s the adaptation of Where Rainbows End). Perhaps this is all a bit confusing.

Rosie and Alex are best friends since they can remember, but are afraid of getting romantically involved, as they are not sure if they are right for each other. Everything that happens next follows the classic pattern of a romantic comedy. Though the plot goes on and on in circles for twelve years until these childhood sweethearts get back together. There are pregnancies, wrong husbands and wives, stolen mail and an endless list of clichéd elements. However, they don’t make the watch less enjoyable (unless the viewer is expecting something more than an easy consumption movie).

Unwanted teenaged pregnancy and other serious matters are included in Alex and Rosie's story, but with a sugar coated tone. The heroine manages to take the right decision to keep her angelical aura throughout the film. Rosie, interpreted by Lily Collins, is allowed to be an innocent, sweet and apparently flawless heroine until the end. Flawless, if we manage to forget that she goes through life making the same mistakes than any mere mortal makes. Although many delicate matters are suggested throughout the story, the approach has a lot more reservations than in per say Obvious Child , but this riskier title did not manage to create much of a romantic vibe around its characters of for that matter that much sympathy. So, they are even.

Collins as Rosie and Sam Claflin –Finnick in The Hunger Games: Catching Fire- playing her best friend/school sweetheart Alex are believable as a couple. They are also the right cast choice to interpret teenage kids and more grown ups versions of themselves. Another successful and efficient cast choice is Rosie’s real best friend played by Jamie Winstone, who takes part in the pharmacy scene (one of the best ones without a doubt). There are other scenes that work well and keep that air of refreshing British comedy (a lá Bridget Jones) such as the ‘first time’ scene and the lift line.

The music in Love, Rosie is a playlist of those hits you are trying to forget existed; but made you dance like crazy because you were younger and less wise than you are now. There is an element of interference in the way the music is fit into the final cut. Those hits, adjust perfectly fine in the story line, but they replace the possibility of more dialog, which points out a lacking screenplay.  At some points the music reminded me of that episode in 30 Rock, in which Avery and Jack are trying to take a very important decision and the music is turned up by some randomer. Unfortunately, in Love, Rosie, the characters don’t have the power to ask for the music to be turned down.

Cecilia Ahern’s novel is a succession of letters, e-mails, IMs and other forms of modern communication used by human beings. So, there is no traditional narration, but the one done through the messages exchanged by the main characters. But Love, Rosie’s script does not take advantage of so many raw materials from the original novel. Or, is it the disinterest of the director, Christian Ditter, to exploit potential tense moments between the characters?  

Where Rainbows End was published in the US with the same title as its movie adaptation. The title choice for this movie, to clearly give better chances to its distribution in America, is the ending line for a letter, funny enough fact since Rosie does not write a single missive in the movie!

Love, Rosie is cheesy, has a predictable ending (let's not forget we are talking about Cecilia Ahern here). But all and all, it’s a very enjoyable romcom that blends into the American model, with refreshing moments as it corresponds to a British comedy. 

Gold

Movie Review (published by Geek Ireland, October 13th)

**
Gold is an Irish comedy, at least that’s what I was made to believe. There is just a small issue with that statement, I did not laugh once. Gold starts with a reasonably comical scene, a rebel teenaged Abbie (Maisie Williams) looking for ‘food supplements’ to improve her performance in cross country running. Abbie, accompanied by her terrified friend Devon (Patrick Gibson), meeting the drug dealer at a gym is a good opening.

Ray (David Wilmot) is in his forties, when he decides to go back to his hometown to reconnect with his ex-girlfriend Alice (Kerry Condon) and daughter Abbie. Alice asked him to leave, so she could raise their child with the PE teacher, Frank (James Nesbitt). Ray, who is been absent for ten years, causes a disruption, in their quiet and structured life.

The pace in Gold is lacking, the first few scenes and the introduction of Ray’s character into the family home does not get the story going anywhere. It’s not until a family day trip and the extraordinary event that takes place there that the story moves forward. The script fails to explore why the family is dysfunctional, or if it is at all. It does not go into a deep understanding about why Alice took the decision of raising Abbie away from Ray.  

Ray’s relationship with Abbie has a more natural progression. Abbie does not trust her biological dad; she thinks he’s homeless, but due to some special circumstances she feels pity for him. The compassion she shows for Ray a bit easier to understand, but still quite forced. Abbie manipulates him, but doesn’t feel any respect for him, which it’s a natural development for a relationship that has been shovelled into her life at an awkward time.

David Wilmot does have some decent lines like “You want a hug or something?” Though, It's hard to believe he is charming enough to shake the foundations of a relationship within a few days of showing up. Ray is insecure, seems to be on the verge of crying most of the time, and is homeless. This may be a very snobbish statement, but how is he able to shake anything with that description?

James Nesbitt in the role of Frank is the comic relief in the story. His high performance coach video is the cause of a couple of smiles, a sketch that unfortunately gets overused and old by half way through the film.  

Heery’s second film – after Small Engine Repair in 2006- has a predictable ending, and that’s no crime if your movie moves the audience. The problem with Gold is that fails to be a comedy and fails to be a drama too. 

A Story that Came from the South

Movie Review 

****

Ali by Paco Baños

Ali is afraid of falling in love and terrified of driving… smokes like a chimney and is as blunt and cynical as they make them.

Paco Baños' heroine lives in Seville, but she could be from anywhere else. She struggles with becoming an adult, though she behaves like one at home, where she is used to play a protective and caring role with her mum. Ali looks after her progenitor, who doesn't give up on love despite all the failed 'Princes Charming'.

Baños' film made me flashed back to the Seville I lived in about eight years ago; the city where the Cine Avenida screened Buffalo '66, one of the director’s confessed inspirations for this movie. And, I’m not saying you should forget about the touristic and traditional image of Seville, but you should also know there is so much to this alternative side of the city. And, I feel proud to say it’s this under-the-surface Seville that has made possible a little gem of the Spanish cinema like Ali.

Ali’s dialog is witty, quick, fun and sharp, as is its heroine, a certainly inspired Nadia de Santiago. Baños’ film talks about overcoming our fears; it’s a tale with tender men and strong women. It’s a movie with Andalusian accent. Julio de la Rosa’s soundtrack is delicate at times, pays an homage to garage rock and to dancy pop, and hypnotises us with bells and subtle notes. But, what makes this an incredible soundtrack is Ali’s breathing or smoking, her laugh, the sound of the sea near the Trafalgar’s lighthouse or that torrential rain that you knew was going to happen just because someone decided to put their clothes up in the terrace.

I honestly don’t think I’d change anything in Baños’ movie that succeeds at telling a genuine story about how people become important when they are connected to each other. A tale coloured by the sunlight, warm and bright, from the south that inundates every frame of its wonderful cinematography.

The End of the Summer

August came for the grey stones,

abandoned to a sepulchral silence.

Gone is the hullabaloo

of the sunny days.

Frothy waves

are thrown by a teal sea

and the impetuous wind,

up and down the shore.

OMG, I Went to See TFIOS!

Review of The Fault In Our Stars

Once or twice a year, I find myself reading a YA novel, it's one of those guilty pleasures I allow myself from time to time. Last year, I read The Hunger Games trilogy, which I devoured in two weeks, and by chance since it was highly recommended by cultural gurus such as Reasonable Discussions (the disappeared podcast by the AV Club) The Fault In Our Stars. It was a book about kids with cancer, yes, but no, the story had something different that thankfully made it a best-seller. I can think of much worse YA novels to end up in teenagers’ hands. At least this one featured teenagers I could relate to, as the teenager I once was and as an adult.

The Fault In Our Stars movie adaptation shared a problem with The Hunger Games trilogy, how to accept actors incarnating characters that have been so emotionally close to me as a reader? As a teenager, I read The Outsiders avidly, cried like never before with a book and identified amazingly well with Sodapop, a character I had nothing in common but the awkwardness of being a teenager. When reading about Katniss Everdeen and Hazel Grace Lancaster they became those perfect heroines I never had in my teens. In my thirties I felt them as fully developed characters, and went inside their heads as much as I once did with Sodapop’s.

The young adult genre is as rich as irregular, and I can say I still enjoy approaching some titles every so often. What I found more interesting and refreshing about both novels were these strong female characters with driven, who pull their weight and make these stories so inspiring. John Green's story had a unique tone, a little something that I thought difficult to transfer to a movie. Hazel and specially Augustus are so unique, so well rounded and charming that I thought no cast choice would feel right.

My admiration goes to Shailene Woodley, who became Hazel on screen and on the off screen narration, so easy to mess up by over or under acting. I have my reservations about the choice for Gus, because, come on, who is so charming at that age? And, how difficult is to shape a quality as abstract as charm? Augustus has so much more depth in the book, but isn't it because we magnify his charm to our taste while reading?

There is one thing that bothered me about the movie, well, no the movie itself, but its marketing campaign. The movie posters show, instead of the usual magazine quotes, random tweets about the movie by even more random people. If I am correct this has been done before for some other movies marketed to teenagers, and I can’t think of a worse way to discredit a film. I went to see the movie, because I enjoyed the novel by John Green, but I wonder how many people will be discouraged by this. I imagine “OMG, I love TFIOS so much!! But I cried like a baby!” is not going to convince many people to go and see the movie. But, although there might be some crying involved, I certainly recommend it, as much as the book.

A Cage Of Dreams

Review of The Golden Dream by Diego Quemada-Díaz

I admit, I went to see The Golden Dream partly skeptical about the need of another movie about young immigrants from Central America on their journey to the USA. I do have a social conscience, that is not the problem, and I like to see these stories on film (I believe cinema has the obligation to show what happens out there, since the mass media has become a bit of an entertainment tool these days). I also feel more than respect for directors that don’t mask the truth and decide to give voice to those who don’t make it to the 6pm news. My skeptical attitude had more to do with the fact that I had seen Sin nombre (Cary Fukunaga, 2009) so I couldn’t stop wondering what would make this movie unique from the audience's point of view. I didn’t have to wait long to see the difference.

I was one of those lucky viewers who had the chance to listen to Quemada-Diaz explaining the process of filming The Golden Dream after the show. He struck me as a gentle but combative speaker. As he explained, he didn’t want to tell a horror story (there is not much happiness laying around of the way of illegal immigrants), but he manages to suggest the obstacles his characters, built out of real testimonies, will find on their way. He definitely succeeds on doing so without falling into explicit violence or using shocking images.

However, there is one confusing element as spectator when watching The Golden Dream: it lacks the rhythm expected in a road movie. Quemada-Diaz, in the Q&A session that followed the film, expressed his wish for making an epic movie (epic in proportion, since it combines hundreds of testimonies). The epic pace is the one you should expect. The story and characters develop surrounded by infinite landscapes and the hundreds of people who accompany them in their journey.

The Golden Dream is a beautifully shot movie with a poetic cinematography and the many unresolved and intriguing events of the lives of Sara, Chauk and specially Juan. It’s a tale of brotherhood and loyalty, in which the unexpected may be the key to survival.

Night-blooming Jasmine

One of the reasons I studied Communication (Journalism if you like) was because it was the closest I could be from a career in cinema: I could write about the Seventh Art! Taking into account my abilities, it seems I took the right decision back then. My sensibilities are in both places though...
 

My college years, like for everyone I think, were a time for discovery. And as strange as this may sound, Woody Allen is something like a mystery to me since then. He is one of those directors you couldn't get to know at home (at least not in mine, since he was considered this neurotic little man who told the same stories over and over again). I had my Allen's marathons in college, but there were a lot of movies I didn't get to see. They were always taken in the faculty film library! Today I still think of those ones I missed as a gap in my cinema education.

Last week, I went to see Blue Jasmine, that was screened in the Mermaid Arts Centre (Bray). I was happy to see the place was absolutely packed. First, because I find comforting people still go to see movies with good acting. Even I, as ignorant as I am about Allen's career, know I am going to see actors in a moment of brilliance, with the obvious exceptions. Second, because, does this full house mean he is becoming mainstream?

I can't talk much about the movie without spoiling the story, but I can tell you this: you should see Cate Blanchett as Jasmine. Some people have the opinion she is a cold looking woman. I would always would prefer to describe her as ethereal (Galadriel's fault, I guess). Blanchett’s Jasmine is ridiculous, shallow, but vulnerable and afraid of being alone too. Woody Allen’s special talent is writing character defining dialog, and through it we learn to love and detest Jasmine.

Jasmine is one of those anti-heroes the screens are overpopulated with these last few years (Breaking Bad, Justified, Dexter, to name just a few). When she starts telling her story, we find difficult to feel sympathy for her. The way she talks about her past life in Manhattan, the Hamptons, St. Tropez…, makes you despise this creature that is from that other side of the world. But, at times, you may feel like forgiving her sins and pitying her, especially when you sense she is about to collapse.

Jasmine has been invented by Jeanette (Blanchett's character's real name) the same way she has invented a fictional happy marriage and a not so fictional careless life. She is this delicate and classy lady, who speaks like a character out of Casablanca. Describing the way she meets her husband, wrapping the moment in a romantic veil, in which Blue Moon was playing and “he swept her off her feet”. During her life with Hal (her “very, very rich" husband), she is “scaling the dizzy heights of high society” and shares a fate not far from who inspired A Lady Of A Certain Age by The Divine Comedy.

The property bubble and financial malpractises cause the chain of events that will bring Jasmine to feel like fish out of water, and will destroy lives of many around her. Woody Allen does not offer an analysis of this chain of events, but delivers a satirical speech against the authors of those events efficiently, through a dialog that spares no punches.