Movie reviews

DID Steven Spielberg really intend ET (1982) to be read as a Christ-like figure?

That’s a theory that has exercised film buffs ever since the cuddly alien with the tummy-light finally went home, but there can be no doubting that War Horse (12A) is heavily imbued with religious significance. Reared by young Albert Narracott (Jeremy Irvine) on a Devon farm, the handsome stallion Joey is sold to the British army in 1914, to become a cavalry charger under the dashing Captain Nicholls (Tom Hiddleston). The fortunes of war being what they are, Joey finds himself working for the German army, while the distraught Albert lies about his age and signs up to fight in the trenches, in the hope of finding Joey again. It’s that scene in which Joey labours up a hill lashed to the German cannons that crystallise the religious sentiment behind War Horse; shortly afterwards, Joey finds himself swaddled in barbed wire in No Man’s Land. Epic in scope, Spielberg’s film (adapted from Michael Morpurgo’s novel) is visually impressive, although it is a long way off being the WWI equivalent of Saving Private Ryan, particularly in terms of how it depicts the sordid reality of war. Meanwhile, it’s difficult for the audience to gain emotional purchase on the story, as Joey finds himself in the hands of four different owners during the course of the film, which means the viewer is constantly recalibrating their response to Joey’s latest plight. As ham-fisted as it is exhilarating, as clumsily constructed as it is thought-provoking, War Horse is not a Steven Spielberg classic, but it will do nicely until another one comes along.

MICHAEL Fassbender’s performance in Shame (18s) is reminiscent of Christian Bale in American Psycho, the Irish actor’s performance being such a compelling portrayal of sex addiction as to render his character, Brandon, almost entirely repellent. Set against the bleak minimalism of upmarket New York, Steve McQueen’s film appears to suggest that Brandon is just one more shallow, reflective surface, his addiction a symptom of a deep and perversely self-loathing narcissism. Despite Fassbender’s superb performance, however, the audience is, perhaps deliberately, given very little access to Brandon’s emotional state, even when his sister Sissy (Carey Mulligan) comes to stay in his beautifully ordered apartment, in the process disrupting Brandon’s carefully ordered life. Instead we learn about Brandon’s internal conflicts from his physical response, or lack of physical response, such as when he finds himself incapable of having sex with a woman he genuinely seems to care for. Perhaps the frustration at being unable to suss Brandon’s emotions is designed to mirror his own experience of being unable to emotionally engage with himself; if that is the case, then it’s very well done. Nonetheless, the film remains a frustrating and alienating experience.