Movie Reviews: miracles or the product of a heavily medicated imagination run riot?
Salma Hayek and Owen Wilson star in BLISS Photo: Hilary Bronwyn Gayle/Amazon Studios
Divorced, depressed and alienated from his family, Greg Wittle (Owen Wilson) finds himself in dire need of a little (15A), and especially after he accidentally kills his boss.
Enter Isabel (Salma Hayek), who gives Greg an alibi even though he doesn’t really need it: this world is just an illusion, she tells him, and he can bend it to his will. But is the homeless Isabel really capable of the miracles she shows Greg, or is she the product of his heavily medicated imagination run riot? Written and directed by Mike Cahill (Another Earth), Bliss poses some fascinating questions about the nature of reality and our relationship to what we perceive to be real.
Incorporating elements of and , and Thomas More’s besides, Cahill interrogates the old saw about ignorance being bliss: given the opportunity, in other words, would we prefer flawed reality to a perfect simulacrum of life?
Salma Hayek is in powerhouse form as the protean Isabel, slipping between personas so seamlessly that we’re never sure whether she’s really some otherworldly mage or simply a bag lady so desperate for company that she drags Greg down into her own drug-fuelled self-delusions.
Owen Wilson’s likeable schtick of the put-upon every-man is perfect for his turn as Isabel’s unwitting dupe, but there’s a heartbreaking poignancy too in his relationship with Emily (Nesta Cooper), his daughter, who refuses to give up on the father she believes to be psychologically deranged (Greg’s son Arthur (Jorge Lendeborg Jr) believes his father a lost cause).
Markus Förderer’s cinematography delivers a sharp contrast between the drab, washed-out ‘reality’ of Greg’s existence and the sumptuous tones of his idyllic alter-universe, and contributes handsomely to an absorbing and thought-provoking drama driven by inventive, transgressive storytelling. (Amazon Prime)
(15A) stars John David Washington and Zendaya as a newly anointed power couple arriving home in the early hours after the successful premiere of Malcolm’s debut film.
Malcolm wants to celebrate, and understandably so, but Marie is a little more downbeat. Soon the reason emerges: Malcolm forgot to thank Marie in his big speech, an omission that Marie believes goes to the very heart of their relationship.
What follows is a bravura piece of filmmaking from writer-director Sam Levinson, although, given the nature of the piece, and that Washington and Zendaya are the only actors to appear on screen, it’s likely the film was far more collaborative than the bare credits allow.
The story takes the form of a confrontational he said / she said as the couple pick through the bones of their relationship, which is inseparable from the film they’ve just seen: Malcolm based his main character, a recovering junkie, on Marie’s life experience.
It’s a brilliantly claustrophobic story (most of the action takes place in one room) as the accusations and counter-accusations gather pace, with both characters afforded plenty of room to grow — while neither character can claim the moral high ground, both are fully entitled to their grievances, some of which have been festering for years.
Long takes and intimate close-ups add to the uncomfortable sense of witnessing an escalating argument, although Sam Levinson does allow his taut direction to loosen on occasion, and particularly when Malcolm goes off on his rants about the function of art and the politicisation of black filmmakers.
Overall, though, Malcolm & Marie is elegant, articulate and cruelly insightful as it lays bare the fault-lines of a relationship teetering on the brink. (Netflix)
An Australian remake of the Icelandic film (2015), (12A) stars Sam Neill and Michael Caton as Colin and Les Grimurson, brothers who haven’t spoken for 40 years, even though their sheep farms are adjacent and their homes are within hailing distance of one another.
When their sheep are infected by Ovine Johnes’ Disease the scene is set for a reconciliation and a spirited last stand against bureaucracy, but Jeremy Sims’ film offers considerably more than a paean to the stubborn spirit of the Australian pioneer.
Indeed, while Sam Neill and Michael Caton are good value in the main roles, and provide plenty of black comedy as the brothers lock horns and butt heads, is at its strongest when it focuses on the traumatic effect of infectious disease on a tight-knit population.
Livelihoods and generations of investment in the soil are at stake, local vet Kat (Miranda Richardson) sees her career withering on the vine, while young Jackson (Will McNeill) contemplates moving away from the idyllic countryside to the horrors of urban life (Leon Ford, meanwhile, puts in a terrific comic performance as the officious jobsworth from the Department of Agriculture).
Funny, unsentimental and quietly profound, offers a heartfelt celebration of community. (internet release)
