Review: Never Let Me Go (2010)

* * * 1/2
Director: Mark Romanek
Starring: Carey Mulligan, Andrew Garfield, Keira Knightley

I love the Oscars but there are two things about Oscar season that I dislike. One is films that are so overtly and generically baity that it verges on embarrassing. The other is the way that the hype machine sometimes latches on to a movie sight unseen and builds up a mountain of expectation regarding its Oscar potential. Then, after the film finally is seen, people are disappointed because it's not in the Academy's wheelhouse and suddenly (and despite the fact that it might be a perfectly good movie) it's marked as a failure in the cultural conversation and gets left behind as the hype machine moves on to its next victim. Never Let Me Go, a gentle science fiction romance, is one of those films. It is not "Oscar-y" in any traditional sense, but it's a very good movie and a prime candidate for critical re-assessment in a few years.

The story - which takes place in an alternate reality in which clones are created in order to provide donor organs - spans decades and follows the short, doomed lives of Kathy, Ruth and Tommy (played as adults by Carey Mulligan, Keira Knightley, and Andrew Garfield). It begins when the three are children at Hailsham, a special boarding school where, as one of their teachers states, they know their purpose but don't really understand what it means. That teacher is Miss Lucy (Sally Hawkins), who is deeply affected by her brief time at Hailsham. When she tries to give the children a greater understanding of what they are, she becomes distraught, but the children themselves accept these facts calmly. They have been raised and socialized to accept that their time on earth is limited, that they have a purpose to serve, and that this is simply the way things are. They know no other option, they have been lead to believe that there is no alternative. Because of that they do not rage against injustice but rather accept their fate as a sad fact.

Broken up into chapters, the film takes place at various points in the trio's lives, punctuated by changes in their relationships. As children Kathy and Tommy are in love but, both being shy, Ruth is able to step in, take control and have Tommy to herself. She and Tommy are still together when the three graduate from Hailsham and are sent to "the Cottages," though they break up shortly thereafter. As adults, Ruth's guilt gets the better of her and she takes steps to bring Kathy and Tommy together before there is no longer time left. Rumor has it that if two donors can prove that they are genuinely in love, it can buy them a few extra years before having to complete their donations.

This story, beautifully told by director Mark Romanek and screenwriter Alex Garland, is interesting for a number of reasons. One of the things that stood out for me is the decision to set the story in the 1970s, 80s and 90s with a quick background explanation that reveals that the scientific breakthrough that made cloning possible took place in 1952 and reached perfection in the late 60s. Since one of the story's major themes is the ethics of creating human beings simply to be harvested (ergo of intentionally and explicitly creating beings who will live a second tier existence), I find it interesting that the science of the story is concurrent with the real-life civil rights movement. The characters have no rights, no public voice, they are segregated, and they are not human beings in any legal sense of the word; they are simply medical beasts of burden. But what makes them different from "originals"? They look human, they interact as humans do, they think, they feel - what, aside from their lack of status, truly sets them apart? One of the things that the story is exploring is the way that we, as a society, talk ourselves into seeing minor distinctions as major and set about trying to define the world according to difference. On the surface Never Let Me Go might be about clones coming to terms with their destiny, but beneath that it is about the humanity which exists in "the other" and how no matter how many social rules and categories we create for each other, on a fundamental level the similarities between us will always run deeper than any of the differences.

One of the questions at the story's center is whether a clone can possess a soul. Late in the film Kathy and Tommy are informed that the artwork collected from the children at Hailsham was a means of determining whether they did, in fact, have souls, which in turn might have forced a public discussion of ethics that would save their lives. I would argue that the simple fact that they hope - not to live but simply for more time - is all the proof necessary that they have souls, that they are human beings just like any other. It would be one thing if they just wanted to escape and live - the instinct for self-preservation is present in all living creatures; but the fact that they understand time in such a way that even a little bit of it is precious to them is, I think, proof enough that the distinction between originals and duplicates is only a matter of societal attitude. The film doesn't spend a lot of time exploring the big picture in terms of how people feel about cloning or the lives of clones themselves, but whenever it touches on the subject, it makes it count.

Never Let Me Go tackles a lot of big themes but it manages to do so on a very intimate scale by creating distinct and engaging characters. It's a shame that the Best Actress field is so crowded this year and that the film itself has already been written off as an also-ran in many circles, because Mulligan's performance here is wonderful and deserving of attention. In her hands Kathy is a character of quiet endurance, a pillar of strength at the story's center that helps keep it from sinking in sentimentality. Her final moments in the film are devastatingly perfect, wrenching in fact. Never Let Me Go is a profoundly sad film, but a very good one that deserves better than the lacklustre response it has received thus far.

Review: The Social Network (2010)

* * * 1/2
Director: David Fincher
Starring: Jesse Eisenberg, Andrew Garfield, Justin Timberlake

I have to admit, for a while there I wasn't too keen on the idea of seeing The Social Network. When the trailer was released, my first thought was, "Great, two hours of rich white guys acting like assholes." It was only in the last couple of weeks, which saw the release of review after review, each seemingly more rapturous than the last, that I actually started to look forward to this one. Luckily, it lives up to the hype.

The Social Network recalls a time long ago, a simpler age when if your friends, family, or that person you remember vaguely from high school wanted to know what you were thinking or what you did over the weekend, they had to, like, call you or something. How did we ever live like that? The film begins with Facebook founder Mark Zuckerberg (Jesse Eisenberg) getting dumped, getting drunk, and then getting revenge by simultaneously blogging about his now ex-girlfriend and creating Facemash, a site which ranks the attractiveness of the women at Harvard. His late night stunt gets him both bad attention, in the form of a disciplinary hearing (he had to hack into various databases to get the photos for Facemash), and good attention in the form of Cameron and Tyler Winklevoss (Armie Hammer) and Divya Narendra (Max Minghella), who want to bring Zuckerberg aboard their plans for a social network to help Harvard students connect to each other.

Zuckerberg signs up for the project (originally called HarvardConnection then renamed ConnectU) but quickly abandons it to start a social networking site of his own, teaming up with his friend Eduardo Saverin (Andrew Garfield), who doesn't know much about computer programing but has the cash to provide the project with the necessary start up money. Things are going well until The Facebook catches the attention of Napster co-founder Sean Parker (Justin Timberlake), who helps launch the site into the stratosphere but causes an irreparable rift between Zuckerberg and Saverin that eventually leads to one of two lawsuits against Zuckerberg (the other being launched by the Wilkevoss twins and Narendra).

Much of the film is told in flashbacks with the present day scenes taking place in the two mediations. The screenplay, by Aaron Sorkin, unfolds at a fast clip (the first scene is about as close to perfect as it gets) and is very engaging and surprisingly funny. The only thing about the screenplay that didn't really work for me was the scene which introductes Parker. The scene felt kind of clunky (and is so glaring because the rest of the film is so smooth) and while Timberlake does really well in his role, he's not quite a good enough actor to make that scene work.

Throughout the film, the characters are extremely well drawn. Zuckerberg is depicted here as a man utterly lacking in social skills, who has no idea how to forge or maintain connections to other human beings. There's a sharpness to the character and while the film never tries to soften the edges, he's not exactly the "villain" of the story either (though he's certainly no innocent). If there is a villain to this story it's Parker, who waltzes in, seduces Zuckerberg with visions of glory, orchestrates Saverin's ouster, and then proves to be something of a PR liability. There is a scene where Zuckerberg and Parker are in a club and Parker is framed and lit in such a sinister way that the character may as well have been renamed Mephistopheles. It's a brilliant bit of work from director David Fincher (and cinematographer Jeff Cronenweth), just one of several little touches that helps make The Social Network such a strong film.

The film is also immeasurably strengthened by its performances. Hammer plays the Winklevoss twins as a pair of golden boys so accustomed to having everything work out for them that they are offended to their very core that not only have their plans been disrupted but that they have to go to such great lengths in their attempt to restore order to their lives (at one point Cameron refuses to sue Zuckerberg, insisting that he and Tyler are "gentlemen of Harvard" and, as such, they can fall back on the social rules of their class to resolve the situation in their favour). Garfield's Saverin - played with wounded intensity - is easier to feel sorry for, perhaps because the story unfolds in such a way that he's like the faithful first wife dumped at the cusp of success in favour of the trophy wife epitomized by Timberlake's Parker. At the center of it all, of course, is Eisenberg who never hits a false note in his portrayal of Zuckerberg. He's been giving solid performances for years now and hopefully he won't go unrecognized for this performance come Oscar time.

Review: Red Riding: In The Year of Our Lord 1974

* * * 1/2
Director: Julian Jarrold
Starring: Andrew Garfield, Rebecca Hall, Sean Bean

Dang, I was hoping to review all three parts of Red Riding at once, but the other two entries are always checked out at the video store so I guess I'll have to wait to get to them. It is perhaps just as well since 1974 is such an unrelentingly dark film that taking a break before getting to the next one is probably a good idea.

The plot of 1974 is a bit complicated but I'll summarize it as best I can. The story centers on Eddie Dunford (Andrew Garfield), a young Yorkshire reporter who comes to believe that the murders of a series of young girls may be the work of one person. Through the course of his investigation he becomes involved with Paula (Rebecca Garland), the mother of one of the murdered girls, and discovers that corruption runs deep through the local police - so deep that they may have arranged the suspicious death of Eddie's friend Barry (Anthony Flanagan) and may have something similar planned for Eddie if he doesn't back off.

The police are in the pocket of John Dawson (Sean Bean), a local businessman involved in a shady development deal. Not only is Dawson behind the razing of a Roma camp that was occupying the area where he plans to build a mall, but the body of one of the murdered girls turns up on his land. Dawson was also once involved with Paula, who tries to warn Eddie about how powerful he is but, by the time Eddie really begins to appreciate the extent of the danger that he's in, it's far too late. When he storms a party at Dawson's house he's taken into custody by police, who beat and torture him and reveal that in the North, "we do what we want."

Working from a screenplay adapted by Tony Grisoni, director Julian Jarrold crafts a very dark and very heavy film that weighs on you afterwards. At a certain point you come to the terrible realization that there isn't going to be a deus ex machina, that evil will win and good will be snuffed out. It took a couple of days for me to really shake this movie, that's how effective it is. The plot is complicated and it can take a while to really get the various threads sorted out in your head (I would imagine that things become clearer after viewing the other two films) but it's such a well-made film that it's worth the effort.

Garfield's performance plays a large part in creating the sense of resonance that 1974 enjoys. The actor, who is having a very good year with Never Let Me Go and The Social Network, not to mention landing the lead in the Spiderman reboot, first caught my attention with his marvelous performance in Boy A. He brings a great mix of intensity and vulnerability to his role here that makes the impact of his character's journey all the greater. It's wrenching to watch what he goes through during the course of this film, especially when he reaches the point where there is nothing for him but despair and hopelessness. This is a tough film but well worth a look both for the incredibly sinister atmosphere created by Jarrold and for the performances - Garfield's in particular but also those of Bean and Hall.

Review: Boy A (2008)

* * * 1/2
Director: John Crowley
Starring: Andrew Garfield

Boy A is one of those intimate, tightly-wound little movies that gets under your skin and stays there. Using a handful of characters, the film examines the sometimes volatile relationship between the legal system and the concept of justice, and forces the audience to ask difficult questions. The subject matter is difficult on a number of levels, but the film is easy to sink into and its characters stay with you long after the film itself is over.

Boy A refers to Jack (Andrew Garfield), a 24-year-old man who has just been released from prison for a crime he committed when he was about 11 and went by the name Eric. In many respects Jack is still a child, still socially awkward, shy and unsure of himself. He’s also haunted by the crime he committed – the murder of an 11-year-old girl – and the suicide of his accomplice, whom he believes was actually murdered. With the help of his social worker Terry (Peter Mullan), Jack settles into his new identity, getting a home and a job, making friends and even finding love with one of his co-workers (Katie Lyons).

The performance by Garfield as Jack attempts to negotiate all these new experiences is incredibly compelling. His uncertainty and trepidation is palpable and expressed both in body language and in speech mannerisms, and the way that he allows Jack to transition into a more comfortable and self-assured person is seamless. You can still see in him traces of the little boy, desperate for friends and validation and easily led, but you can also sense that he is beginning to take control of himself - not that this does much good for him when his identity is exposed in the news, prompting outrage from those around him, who believe that he should spend the rest of his life in prison.

Through flashbacks we see the events leading up to the murder and parts of the trial. Jack/Eric (played as a child by Alfie Owen) is bullied and friendless until he meets Philip (Taylor Doherty), an intense little boy with a violent streak. It’s Philip who initiates the attack on the girl and we never really know the extent of Eric’s involvement in the crime. It certainly seems, from what is shown, that Eric is little more than a follower who takes orders from Philip – but, of course, we’re only seeing this from Eric’s perspective and a story featuring Philip as protagonist might tell a different version entirely. At the trial the Crown argues that both boys are essentially and inescapably evil and that there’s no hope of either being rehabilitated. His argument seems cruel because they are, after all, just children and both come from unhappy, abusive households that have left deep psychological and emotional scars on them. To argue that they could never hope to be rehabilitated as they grow up seems unfair. On the other hand, they did kill another child in cold blood and her parents no doubt think it’s cruel that they should get to grow up and live their lives, experiencing the things their daughter will never get the chance to.

Boy A is an incredibly effective film, one that relies not on the shock value inherent in the crime (which isn’t shown onscreen), but on the complexities of human interaction and emotion. It isn’t without its flaws, especially as it nears the end, but it makes for an intense and engaging viewing experience. I anticipate seeing more from Garfield in the future, as he demonstrates here that he’s an incredibly skilled young actor.