Eavesdropping At The Movies

Hot on the heels of Baz Luhrmann's Elvis, which cast the titular rock & roll icon as the victim of a life controlled by his manager, comes Priscilla, written and directed by Sofia Coppola, which tells a similar story of a life controlled - but here, Elvis is the culprit. in 1959, 14-year-old Priscilla Beaulieu meets 24-year-old Elvis during his military service in West Germany; by 1963, she's moved in with him at Graceland, his famous Memphis estate. But the romantic life she desires is kept from her. Priscilla is as rich an experience and as rewarding in conversation as we could have hoped for. Coppola intelligently and insightfully weaves together themes of unequal power dynamics, in which pleasure is withheld; the societally-defined roles of men and women and how they harm those who enforce them upon themselves; the significant age difference between Elvis and Priscilla, especially exacerbated by her youth; why and how beauty is constructed; and so much more. Its gaze is a female one, and a particular one

In 2002, Tony Leung and Andy Lau starred in the Hong Kong classic Infernal Affairs, which Martin Scorsese remade in the US as The Departed; twenty years on, the inspiration flows in the opposite direction, Scorsese's The Wolf of Wall Street a clear reference point for this fictionalised tale of real-life stock market manipulation, deeply embedded corruption, and the growth of a multi-billion-dollar company from meagre beginnings on the back of scams, confidence, appearences, and lies, with Leung starring as charming, oleaginous company founder and Lau as the anti-corruption official on his tail. We had terrific fun in The Goldfinger. Which isn't to say it's a perfect film. We have our issues. The imagery could be more expressive - though director Felix Chong (another Infernal Affairs alumnus: he wrote the trilogy) clearly has an eye for visual impact, and there's lots to be impressed by. We'd like to know why Lau's corruption investigator believes that chasing Leung's CEO is worth the disruption and danger t

Hayao Miyazaki, the legendary Japanese animator and co-founder of Studio Ghibli, who has previously announced his retirement three times, tells us all that The Boy and the Heron (as it's titled in most of the world; How Do You Live? in Japan) is really, honestly, for real this time, I'm super serious, his last film. His longtime producer, Toshio Suzuki, has already cast doubt on this new claim, but for now, here we have Miyazaki's final film, which tells the story of Mahito, a young boy in wartime Japan, who loses his mother in a fire and is evacuated to his aunt's countryside estate, whereupon he meets a talking grey heron that promises that his mother is alive. José sees The Boy and the Heron as a masterpiece of cinema, a film that does things that other films have forgotten to do, a doorway to thinking about life, loss, and worlds within worlds. Mike... didn't really get on with it, but he puts it down to taste and maybe mood - any objection he has can be equally levelled at things he loves. We easily agr

Adam Driver and Penélope Cruz star as lovers, business partners, and rivals, in a motorsport biopic that's much more about the drama off the track than on it. In 1939, Italian racing driver, team owner, and entrepreneur Enzo Ferrari founded the car manufacturer that would become one of the best-known and most prestigious marques in history; Ferrari the film tells the story of events in 1957, with the company in financial difficulties and his wife, Laura, distanced from him as they grieve the recent loss of their son, Dino. She tolerates Enzo's dalliances with mistresses, as long as he's home before the maid arrives - but his second family is secret from her. Mike sees an opportunity to right his wrongs from our podcast on Ford vs Ferrari, aka Le Mans '66, in which, he declares, he overfocused on insignificant details, while José rightly and happily enjoyed the big personalities, charming and interesting central friendship, and entertaining, dramatic races... by suggesting they've switched seats. José finds t

In something of a return to the sort of film that made his name, Taika Waititi co-writes and directs a quirky, charming comedy-drama set in Polynesia. Next Goal Wins adapts the true story of the American Samoan football team (and the 2014 documentary about it that gives this film its title), famously one of the worst teams on the planet, who begin the film in despair following their 31-0 world-record international defeat to Australia. Seeking new inspiration, they recruit Thomas Rongen, a Dutch-American coach with a reputation for losing his temper and getting sacked, to lead them in their quest for World Cup qualification. We discuss Waititi's comedic style, to what extent the film requires knowledge of the culture and sport it shows, the complexities of Rongen's history and relationship with his ex-wife, and how Fassbender, not known for his work in comedy, fits uncomfortably into such a role, but what he brings to it dramatically that you wouldn't typically expect. Most of all - we have fun! Next Goal Win

A new, low-budget, Japanese-produced Godzilla movie takes us by surprise. Toho, with whom the series began in 1954 and who have produced over 30 Godzilla films since, have given Godzilla Minus One a wider release than usual, and we're glad of it. Unburdened by the lore and worldbuilding of the Legendary Pictures MonsterVerse films, writer-director Takashi Yamazaki tells a story of Japan's post-World War II depression, a spiritual and blood debt a pilot feels for shirking his wartime duty, and a community brought together in defiance of both a culture that treated their lives as expendable, and of course, a monster attacking their city. Godzilla Minus One looks sensational for a film of its budget - reported to be under $15 million - and while hitting all the beats you'd expect of a blockbuster, arguably exhibits a subtly different pace and style of storytelling than Western audiences are used to, Mike suggesting that it gives an audience tired of having relentlessly convoluted cinematic universes foisted upo

Paul King, the director of Paddington and Paddington 2, brings us Wonka, another reimagining of a British children's classic. Roald Dahl's beloved 1964 novel, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, has been adapted twice: once in 2005 by Tim Burton, but most memorably in 1971 by Mel Stuart, with Gene Wilder as eccentric chocolatier Willy Wonka. It's from the 1971 version that Wonka takes some of its cues (including musical ones), but in the service of that most 21st-century of cinematic artefacts: an origin story. Within, discussions of: What we make of the world in which Wonka is set, one in which institutions purportedly in place for the public good are instead supportive only of corporate power; the reinterpretation of the Oompa-Loompas as a wronged people whose representative is out to retrieve what was stolen from them; Mike's dissatisfaction with CGI and visual effects in British films and the production of the vocals in Wonka's songs; José's opinion on Timothée Chalamet's career and (apparently) uneven fa

Nicolas Cage plays a meme. Not just in real life any more, but now also in Dream Scenario, a quirky fantasy in the mould of Charlie Kaufman and Woody Allen, although nowhere near as funny. Cage's biology professor starts appearing in countless people's dreams for no obvious reason, blankly observing the events within, and soon becomes a minor celebrity - but as his presence in the dreams grows more active, public opinion turns on him. Dream Scenario flirts with a variety of themes of modern society, such as fame, celebrity, cancel culture, power dynamics in academia, male ego, and the grammar of social media - arguably without meaningfully committing to any of them, but equally arguably avoiding the pitfalls that doing so might create. It dramatises the difference between who a public figure of opprobrium actually is and who the version of that figure is in the minds of the public that reviles him, depicting its angry mob with a mix of horror and amused fascination, but also refuses to indulge in cancel cult

For our discussion of Ridley Scott's new historical epic, Napoleon, we have the privilege of being joined by Paul Cuff, a film historian and expert on the Napoleonic era in cinema, including and especially Abel Gance's Napoléon from 1927, about which he wrote A Revolution for the Screen: Abel Gance's Napoleon. Together, we ask whether Scott's film has anything to say about the man whose life it depicts - and if so what? - whether its ahistoricity matters, and how substantially it fleshes out its characters and the events and relationships dramatised. Recorded on 26th November 2023.

David Fincher's precise, controlled direction is a perfect match for Michael Fassbender's precise, controlled performance in this lean but complex story of a botched assassination, revenge, and the hitman's attempts to reassert precise control over his life. We discuss the world in which The Killer is set and the way in which its title character operates, lives, and sees his place within it; the functions we see in its premise of a murderer-for-hire bored with his job, be it a critique of capitalism or a satire on work; the many names he assumes and what we take from the fact that they're all drawn from sitcoms; the extraordinary audiovisual craft that we're used to seeing from Fincher and thankfully not inured to; how the film uses noir and thriller tropes and where it might overplay them; the film's obsession with process and procedure and why Mike likes playing it more than watching it; and more. The Killer is a brilliantly conceived and assembled thriller filled with cinematography and editing to admire

Based on true events, Killers of the Flower Moon tells a story that invokes the foundational genocide upon which the USA was built, but has its own peculiarities. The Osage Nation, a Native American tribe and unusually the owners of their reservation in Oklahoma, became extraordinarily wealthy in the early 20th century upon finding their land gushing oil - but in pursuit of their riches, the white population in the region devised a plan to rob them of their individual land rights, which were only allowed to be inherited. In telling this story, Killers of the Flower Moon justifies its three and a half hours of runtime - though there's no reason not to include an intermission! - and Leonardo DiCaprio, in particular, has never been better. We discuss the specific events depicted and the wider history to which they relate and that they evoke in microcosm; the complexities in DiCaprio's character, who participates knowingly in hideous crimes but truly loves his wife, whose community and family he's devastating, a

Mike's favourite horror series, which fizzled out in 2010 after seven annual instalments, has been resurrected in fits and starts over the past few years, and if future sequels can maintain the quality of storytelling of Saw X, we want to see more of them. José still doesn't understand the appeal of the gore and torture, but accepts that it's part of the landscape here; what neither of us expects is such an involving and interesting first act. The serialised story that became so hard to follow during the 2000s is here eschewed in favour of a relatively self-contained episode of Jigsaw's life - the convolutions that followed his death way back in Saw III are nowhere to be seen here. We're in pure prequel mode, following him on a trip to Mexico to receive an experimental miracle cure for his terminal cancer, during which the film confidently takes time to build surprising and effective hope for him - everybody likes Jigsaw, the adorable little sadist, after all. The savage redemption that he sets out to offer

Kenneth Branagh continues to direct himself as Hercule Poirot in his ongoing project to make Agatha Christie's classic whodunnits all about him. A Haunting in Venice has less focus on the process and nuances of investigation than its predecessors, Murder on the Orient Express and Death on the Nile - and those already felt the need to punctuate the procedural with action, lest the audience get bored - but shows just as much interest in Poirot's story, at the expense of the suspects' and victims'. It's safe to say that these adaptations are not what they could, or should, be. Branagh enthusiastically uses dramatic angles and camera movement; wonderful to see, but for the fact that he does so with little motivation, failing to create with them the effects and mood that he could. The casting disappoints José, who looks to these sorts of films for the stars of yesteryear who fill the ensemble, bringing their histories and personas to their portrayals of the snooty dowagers, nervous accountants and so on; here, no

For our 400th episode we indulge in a pair of horror sequels, both heavy on faith, possession, and Christianity. One is part of a modern universe of interconnected stories, characters, and demons, the other represents the reignition of a series whose sequels have been produced intermittently for fifty years without receiving anything like the acclaim of the film that spawned them. The Nun II is the eighth film in the ten-year-old Conjuring Universe; The Exorcist: Believer is only the sixth Exorcist film in half a century. Truly, they don't make them like they used to. Neither film in this double bill is very good in totality, but The Nun II contains imaginative and effective set pieces and visual ideas, while The Exorcist: Believer is content to discard a reasonably interesting first act in favour of useless and charmless reference to, and pathetic reenactment of, William Friedkin's 1973 original. We discuss what we think the films are about, wittingly or otherwise - horror is commonly understood to often al

We heartily disagree on The Creator, a sci-fi film directed and co-written by Gareth Edwards, who made his name with Monsters in 2010, which he made largely by himself for half a million dollars, and quickly graduated to tentpole cinema with Godzilla and Rogue One. José had a wonderful time, finding it marvellous to look at and emotionally effective, though leaving room to criticise cinema's continued insistence that John David Washington is a star. Mike finds it dull, brim-full of clichés, and even a little ugly at times, although Edwards' sense of how to convey scale, already shown off in his monster movies, remains intact here. Also featured: ChatGPT and how AI will kill us all. Recorded on 1st October 2023.

The Old Oak, possibly Ken Loach's final film, is his least challenging for some time, and that's perhaps why it's an easier watch than normal. A northern English town sees the arrival of several Syrian families made refugees by the Assad regime; TJ, the owner of the local pub, begins a friendship with Yara, a daughter of one family. The film draws a connection between the displaced Syrians and British former mining communities, both of which groups have had their ways of life taken from them, and sees communal dining as a means to embrace other peoples and practise solidarity. We find it easy to see its cogs turning, and simplistic in its attitudes and characters, but although The Old Oak shows its share of misery and loss, it also conveys a hopeful feeling at times. An interesting film that will generate conversation, and worth seeing. Recorded on 1st October 2023.

One of the great concert films, if not the greatest, receives a 4K restoration four decades after its release, and comes to our local IMAX Digital screen. Talking Heads were huge at the time that 1984's Stop Making Sense was released, and José loved their music, but something about the film didn't appeal to him, and he never saw it. Though Mike is familiar with the band, he only knows a couple of Talking Heads songs and didn't expect to ever get around to seeing the film, so what a way to experience it. The restoration is beautiful and the huge IMAX screen shows it off spectacularly. We discuss the ability of celluloid to capture rich, textured imagery that digital acquisition formats have never matched; David Byrne's captivating presence, handsomeness, and exuberant movement; the film's cinematic style and what puts it above other concert films; the racial composition of the band, both the core members and additional musicians, and what it may or may not reflect about American culture of the time; and more.

Denzel Washington returns for the third and final instalment of the Equalizer trilogy, in which former government assassin Robert McCall devotes his time and skills to avenging for the little guy. This time, he finds himself in Mediterranean Europe, embroiled in a fight to protect a coastal town from terrorisation by the Camorra, the Mafia of southern Italy. The Equalizer 3 shares the contemplative tone and pervasive sense of loss of its predecessors. Here, there's a focus on physical infirmity and vulnerability, a gunshot McCall receives early on forcing a long recuperation, slow, careful approaches to walking down stairs, and the use of a cane. Action erupts quickly and violently, emphasised by director Antoine Fuqua's camera and editing - McCall is wounded, but maintains his ruthlessness and murderous efficiency. We compare the action and Washington to Rambo: Last Blood and its star, Sylvester Stallone, which took a similarly staccato approach to its action, clearly informed by Stallone's age and inabili

José enjoys the examination of contemporary relationships in Ira Sachs' Passages, a Paris-set romantic drama in which a marriage is disrupted when one partner begins an affair with a friend. Mike thinks that the characters' problems aren't real problems and that if the unfaithful partner just grew up then everything would be fine. Recorded on 5th September 2023.

The second half of our Barbenheimer double bill takes us to the BFI IMAX in London to see Oppenheimer, the complex story of J. Robert Oppenheimer's infamous role in the development of the atomic bomb during World War II, the creation and use of which changed history. Writer-director Christopher Nolan, as he has done increasingly over his career, makes extensive use of IMAX 70mm film to tell the story, but as well the spectacle and landscape we're used to it showing off, here it's devoted to the intimate. We're joined by Mike's brother and previous guest Stephen to discuss the film, and consider the use of IMAX for close-ups and portraiture, as well as the story's structure and how the editing and music create pace, the film's implicit attitude towards Communism, whether Florence Pugh is treated unfairly, the way in which black-and-white footage is used to convey a shift in perspective, how the attacks on Hiroshima and Nagasaki are handled, the Stan Brakhage-esque imagery that conveys the radical sense that a