Canadian Film Review: Dead Ringers (1988)

* * *
Director: David Cronenberg
Starring: Jeremy Irons

To put it bluntly, Dead Ringers is a creepy movie. It's really creepy if you're a woman and I would imagine that it's pretty creepy if you're a twin. It's a film about twins who have a parasitic relationship, sharing everything and becoming unable to be fully functional human beings on their own. Jeremy Irons plays the twins and in doing so creates one of his most memorable performances (well, two, I suppose).

Dead Ringers centres on twin brothers, Elliot and Beverly Mantle. Both are celebrated gynaecologists and they share the same medical practice, the same apartment and, often, the same women. They are two separate people with two separate personalities – Beverly is the sensitive one who toils in the background while Elliot is the dominant one described at one point as “Dracula” – but they live as if they are one entity, two halves of a whole person. Their already complicated relationship is thrown into chaos when they get involved with Claire Niveau (Genevieve Bujold), an actress with whom Bev falls in love, or at least into deep dependence.

The twins’ relationship becomes strained as Claire usurps Elliot’s place as the most important person in Bev’s life and also shares her drug addiction with him. Soon Bev’s addiction has taken over his life, completely hindering his ability to work and function. At first Elliot tries to wean him off the drugs but, given how psychically entwined they are, it’s only a matter of time before Elliot has picked up the habit as well. The two spiral out of control together and in a drug fuelled haze take action to separate themselves from each other once and for all.

The film is, obviously, deeply psychological, particularly where the character of Beverly is concerned. He is obsessed with women, with the interior makeup of women, and with female gender roles. At one point Claire innocently remarks that Beverly is an unusual name for a man and he freaks out, asking her if she thinks he’s gay or that his mother wanted girls. His use of plural “girls” is interesting because there’s no indication that Elliot shares the same anxieties with him. The way that Elliot relates to women is messed up, certainly, but he doesn’t seem to suffer from feelings of emasculation the way that Bev does. His attraction to Claire stems, at least in part, from his fascination with the anomalies he discovers while examining her. She has a trifurcate cervix, making her a “mutant” – a woman unlike other women, just as he’s a man unlike other men.

In its exploration of the twins’ profession, the film gets surprisingly clinical, although as it nears the end it becomes increasingly fantastical. Aside from being respected practitioners, the twins are also renowned researchers who have developed a number of medical tools. Some of Bev’s latest inventions, however, leave other doctors and nurses bewildered and, indeed, they look more like fetishistic torture devices than professional instruments. These tools are made specifically for “mutants” and one will later be employed on Eliot. Director David Cronenberg, who is also credited as one of the film's writers, allows a lot of room to explore the psychosexual aspects of the story without ever allowing the film to become overwhelmed with theory. The psychology of the story seems to fit in naturally with everything else, making for a film that doesn’t seem overly self-conscious in its subtext. It’s definitely a very interesting film and the dual performances by Irons are masterful, as he creates very distinct characters out of these two men who are superficially indistinguishable. It’s a great set of performances that would be more than enough to recommend the film even without the technical skill displayed by Cronenberg.

Review: Frost/Nixon (2008)

* * *
Director: Ron Howard
Starring: Frank Langella, Michael Sheen

Frost/Nixon is a solid, if not particularly exceptional, film from director Ron Howard, who tends to specialize in inoffensive, middle-of-the-road fare. It's only real sin is that it doesn't seem to trust that the interplay between David Frost and Richard Nixon is by far the most interesting aspect of the story. The best moments are between those two characters as they face off and every time the film drifted away from that, I couldn't help thinking, "Get back to the interview!"

The film begins shortly after the resignation of Richard Nixon (Frank Langella) from office, when British TV host David Frost (Michael Sheen) declares his desire to interview him. There are problems bringing this idea to fruition, amongst them that Frost is seen more as an entertainer than a journalist, which makes getting financing for the project problematic. No one wants to shell out millions to watch Nixon swat away at softball questions. Frost's relative inexperience is in his favor, however, where the Nixon camp is concerned and the interview, should it ever come to light, is seen as an opportunity for Nixon to separate his achievements from the scandal that drove him from office and thereby preserve the good parts of his Presidency for historial posterity.

Frost and his team scramble to get the money and the four part interview begins when the financing isn't even half secured - not that they let on about that to Nixon's team. When the two men finally sit down, Nixon takes the early lead, monopolizing the time and turning it to his advantage. Frost seems to be little match for the politician until the crucial final interview, in which they discuss the Watergate scandal. The most interesting thing to me is the film's suggestion that Nixon handed victory to Frost. Before the last interview, the former President makes a late night phone call to Frost in which he explicitly states the similarities between them, making it clear that he sees Frost as a kindred spirit, a man who has spent his life pulling himself up the ranks only to be sneered at by those who have had their positions handed to them by birthright. What the film implies is that Nixon, knowing that no matter what he does, his legacy will always be tainted by Watergate, falls on his sword so that Frost can achieve legitimacy and respect within his own field.

The interview segments are the best part of the film, but to my mind there isn't enough time spent on them. A lot of time is spent on the Frost team's prep work and there are numerous cutaways to "talking head" interviews with members of both the Frost and Nixon sides which, frankly, don't really add anything to the story proper. The talking heads are basically designed to tell us how to react to what we've just seen and that's unnecessary because the content speaks for itself. Besides which, the cutaways tend to interrupt the flow of tension that builds during the actual story.

Langella and Sheen are at their best during the one-on-one portions where both are forced to switch between playing offense and defense. The characterization of Nixon by the film is largely sympathetic, mostly because Langella is able to go beyond the myth of Nixon and get to the human being. Sheen holds his own, though he's at a disadvantage because Frost is the less interesting of the two characters. The rest of the cast is made up of familiar faces, including Sam Rockwell and Oliver Plath as members of Frost's research team, Kevin Bacon as Nixon's Chief of Staff, and Rebecca Hall taking on the thankless task of playing "the girlfriend." The supporting cast doesn't get much chance to make an impact as their characters aren't very deeply developed - they're just spectators, like the rest of us.

While Frost/Nixon isn't a groundbreaking film, it is a competent and handsome looking picture. Watching Langella and Sheen, who after having played these characters both on stage and on film probably know them as well as they know themselves, is a treat and well worth the price of admission.

Review: Hunger (2008)

* * * *
Director: Steve McQueen
Starring: Michael Fassbender, Stuart Graham, Brian Milligan, Liam McMahon

Hunger is not for the faint of heart. It spares the viewer nothing in its exploration of the hunger strike entered into by prisoners at Her Majesty's Prison Maze as a form of protest against the inhumane and often barbarous conditions of the prison. Early in the film a new inmate is brought in and refuses to wear a prison uniform. The guards look at him wearily – this is old hat to them now – mark him down as a “non-confirming prisoner,” have him strip and give him the blanket which will be all he’ll have to wear every day. He’s escorted to his cell which is covered wall to wall, floor to ceiling, with his cellmate’s excrement. I guess he wasn’t expecting company.

The story progresses like a relay race, starting with its focus on Raymond Lohan, a guard (Stuart Graham), switching to the prisoners Davey (Brian Milligan) and Gerry (Liam McMahon), and ending finally with Bobby Sands (Michael Fassbender), the Officer Commanding of the IRA prisoners. The common link between all of them is the toll that the prison conditions take on them. Lohan, for all the passion he displays during moments that can probably best be described as torture, does not relish his job. He seems to spend half his time soaking his wounded hands and the other half worrying that he’ll be assassinated. Of course, he has it easy compared to the prisoners, whose cells crawl with maggots and who are subject to brutal beatings on a regular basis.

The film never reveals the specifics of any of the prisoners’ crimes, which has the effect of isolating them from their actions, allowing us to see them as human beings rather than terrorists. It’s difficult to watch this without thinking of Guantanamo and Abu Ghraib. The men in The Maze have participated in criminal acts, but that of course does not make them fair game to be subjected to criminal acts once they're locked up. That being said, the film isn’t necessarily taking sides and the guards aren't presented as a monolithic evil entity. It begins with Lohan going through the routine of his morning which includes checking his street for snipers and looking under his car for bombs. He and his wife live in fear and rightfully so, as the guards are constant targets of the IRA. It isn’t difficult to understand how it is that these men who spend every moment away from their workplace looking over their shoulders then come to work and take all that fear and convert it to aggression and anger. It’s a cycle of violence that accomplishes nothing but the escalation of violence and with each reprisal, the ante gets upped just a little bit more.

The starkness of the film is inescapable. Save for a brief sequence near the end, there is no musical score, just the sounds of violence and suffering in the prison; and many scenes pass in long, unbroken shots captured by a static camera. One such scene is a long dialogue between Sands and a visiting priest which is absolutely mesmerizing, moving from easy banter and small talk to a debate over Sands’ latest political manoeuvre – a large scale hunger strike – and the political and theological ramifications of what he’s undertaking. The scene is so engrossing that you forget you’re watching a movie and it’s jarring when it switches suddenly to a close up of Sands as he enters into a monologue about the mercy killing of an injured faun when he was a child. He believes in the rightness of what he’s doing, though the film doesn’t really venture into the politics of the situation. Hunger is essentially apolitical, though Margaret Thatcher makes a couple of brief appearances, a disembodied voice played over the prison scenes. It’s an interesting approach and more effective than actually seeing her speaking those words in news footage in that it highlights the chasm that between the political rhetoric and the reality. The government in this film is some distant thing, passing judgment on the prisoners while being indifferent to their suffering. The film is about that suffering, not the politics in which it has its roots.

As the film nears its conclusion, it becomes increasingly difficult to watch. The focus is on Sands wasting away and actor Michael Fassbender was obviously very invested in the role, given the dangerous amount of weight he lost to play it. It's really shocking to see him towards the end, so shocking that it detracts a little bit from the strength of his performance throughout the film because the first thing that comes to your mind when you think about it later is how he looked. Despite that, though, Hunger doesn't feel at all exploitative. It is a powerful, wonderfully crafted, minimalist masterpiece about human suffering.

The Best Years of Our Lives: 1939

By and large film historians and cinephiles seem to agree that 1939 is not simply a great year in film but the great year in film. Looking over the roster of films released that year, it’s difficult to argue with that logic:



Gone With The Wind: The highest grossing film of its time, an Oscar juggernaut, and a bona fide classic despite its problematic treatment of race. It hasn’t aged quite as well as some of the other films of that year – it is one of the most poorly paced great films I can think of – but its main characters are timeless. Scarlett O’Hara is one of the greatest female characters in fiction and Vivien Leigh’s portrayal of her one of the best in film history.

The Wizard of Oz: A beloved classic for people of all ages. Its production history is as storied as that of Gone with the Wind - both films are credited as being directed by Victor Flemming, though both had other directors doing early legwork - and it has proved to be as enduring, if not more so.



Ninotchka: Garbo laughs! My personal favourite of all Garbo’s films, it’s a great comedy of manners, clashing cultures, and an interesting look at Hollywood’s treatment of Communism prior to the Red scare that would follow WWII. The only bad thing about this film is that it’s the only good comedy Garbo ever made (the less said about Two-Faced Woman the better), as she proves to have great aptitude for the genre.

Mr. Smith Goes To Washington: I’m a bit of a cynic, but even I get a little choked up during the filibuster sequence as the once wide-eyed innocent Jefferson Smith fights for the integrity of the American political system. After 70 years, it hasn’t lost any of its power or charm.



The Women: Okay, so the remake proved to be pretty lame but the original certainly has a pretty loyal fanbase – personally I don’t think it’s all that but it definitely has its moments and it provides a showcase for many of the best actresses of the era.

Stagecoach: John Ford and John Wayne are the classic American western and Stagecoach marks the first of their many collaborations and the first film Ford would make in Monument Valley.



Wuthering Heights: The classic story from Emily Bronte has been made many times but this version starring Laurence Olivier and Merle Oberon is the favourite for many. The twisted love of Heathcliff and Cathy was perfect for this duo, who apparently detested each other off-screen.

The Rules of the Game: Renoir’s film features a large canvass of characters whose lives and problems criss-cross and overlap, and inspired one of the great American directors. In Robert Altman’s own words: “I learned the rules of the game from The Rules of the Game.”




Gunga Din: Granted, the film is probably guilty of a fair bit of exoticization, but how wrong can you possibly go with an adventure story starring the incomparable Cary Grant and based on the word of Rudyard Kipling?

Goodbye Mr. Chips: Robert Donat won the Oscar for his role as a beloved teacher Mr. Chips. The film itself has inspired multiple remakes, proving that there’s just something about this story that makes it worth telling over and over again.

Canadian Film Review: The Sweet Hereafter (1997)

* * * *
Director: Atom Egoyan
Starring: Ian Holm, Sarah Polley

It's dull in our town since my playmates left!
I can't forget I am bereft
Of all the pleasant sights they see,
Which the Piper also promised me,
...
And just as I became assured
My lame foot would be speedily cured,
The music stopped and I stood still,
And found myself outside the hill,
Left alone againt my will
- "The Pied Piper of Hamelin" by Robert Browning

Atom Egoyan’s The Sweet Hereafter is not a film about discovering the cause of a terrible accident, nor is it a revenge drama, a story about a lawyer on a crusade for justice, or even a peek behind the curtain hiding the secrets of a small Canadian community. It isn’t even really about the dead, but a lament for those who survive and are forced to carry on hollowed by the loss. The characters move forward as if dragging weights behind them and yet the film itself is graceful, not intruding on their pain but stepping delicately around it.

Much of the story focuses on Mitchell Stevens (Ian Holm), a lawyer who comes to the town to recruit the residents in a class action suit against the makers of the school bus that went off the road and through the icy lake. The residents look at him with suspicion, but he’s not a money-grubbing ambulance chaser. He approaches the situation not with greedy excitement, but with resignation and the sadness of his own experiences. He has a daughter who is as good as dead, so lost is she in drug addiction. He knows sorrow and is driven by the need to hold someone accountable – if not for his own family tragedy, than those of others.

Some of the families join his cause, including Risa (Alberta Watson) and Wendell (Maury Chayken), who provide Stevens with a rundown of the other residents in town; the Ottos (Earl Pastko and Arsinee Khanjian), artists described by everyone else as hippies; and the Burnells, whose daughter, Nicole (Sarah Polley), is one of the few survivors of the accident. In scenes which take place prior to the accident, Nicole reads from “The Pied Piper,” unsuspecting of the way in which she will come to identify with the boy left behind. Like him she has a physical reminder of the tragedy, as she’s left paralyzed in the accident, and she must contend with the loneliness of being the only child left in town and the responsibility of, essentially, living for all those children who will be forever frozen in time. She also identifies strongly with the Pied Piper character. When asked why the Piper leads the children away rather than using his powers to force the townspeople to pay him the money they had promised him, she says simply that he does it because he’s angry. Nicole is angry, too, and at a crucial moment tells a lie in order to hurt the person who has made her angry.

There is a lot to this story, much of which gets left unsaid and that silence, that absence of words that ought to be there, makes it all the more powerful. Egoyan doesn’t allow the emphasis to be on the crash; as the story moves back and forth between the time before and the time after the accident, it keeps touching on that fateful trip, watching the bus make its way over the snow covered road with a feeling of the inevitable rather than the ominous. As far as direction goes, there is absolutely no room for improvement – Egoyan’s work is confident and masterful and the images he’s created are haunting.

Ian Holm and Sarah Polley do most of the heavy lifting as far as the actors go, though there’s not a bad performance in the bunch. Polley is an actress that I’ve always liked and here, as elsewhere, she suggests a maturity far beyond her years. Her soulful performance stands out even in a film where everything is top notch.