The Umbrellas of Cherbourg (1964)

Umbrellas of Cherbourg

If you have a natural aversion to people breaking out into song in films it is safe to say that you should give this one a miss. Jacques Demy here has fully realised his vision of creating a ‘film in song’, it is less musical theatre more jazz backed modern opera. Add on to the top of this a large helping of deeply felt French romance and you have a film that remains a true curio of world cinema. It is not really a standard musical in that there is no spoken word in the entire piece, instead Demy uses normal speech and conversation as the lyrics of the songs, creating an interesting balance of fantasy and realism. It is a vibrant and heartfelt experiment in musical filmmaking which for the most part pays off very well.

For the story we have Genevieve and Guy, the former being played by a captivating young Catherine Deneuve and the later by the solemnly charismatic Nino Castelnuovo. The couple is freshly embroiled in a secret relationship and the chemistry between the two is immediately palpable. However all is not well, when they sing that they will love each other forever and that nothing will ever part them the alarm bells start ringing. These chimes soon crescendo as life take a hold of the romance, firstly Genevieve’s mother is unhappy with the two dating and then suddenly Guy is conscribed to join the French army in the fight in Algiers. We then watch as the two people struggle to find a place for their love in a world which cannot allow the two to be together. This is a fairly well-worn romantic tale of lovers kept apart despite their wishes, however Demy and his choice to heighten the mood through the operatic nature of the songs he has his characters sing breathes life into an otherwise fairly unremarkable plot.

The songs in the film are less songs than conversations with melody and rhythm, people talk in full sentences and interact normally just in a continuous melody. The effect of seeing a film tell its story in song but without a normal verse chorus structure gives the piece a real flowingly fast pace which may seem difficult to get on board with at first but soon you become enraptured into the beat of the film. Demy understands the humour and jollity that musicals can bring and yet gives his characters a fairly bleak hand to play in the film. At one point we may have upbeat jaunts underscoring a mothers nagging of her daughter to find the right man, but then the film shifts into its more sombre laments to the nature of lost or misplaced love. At one point Deneuve (or the overdub of Deneuve) sings ‘Why is absence so hard to bear’ in the films signature melody and we feel the emotion of the sentiment. We have watched and heard the joy that the young lovers had when they were together but as life continues we are carried along of the wave of regrets that the two people share. Much like other musicals the emotions in this are very earnest and close to the skin but unlike most there comes with it a sadness which feels very true and less forced than musicals can tend to be.

Demy does not just let the songs speak for the film however, this is 60s French filmmaking after all and we can see his cinephilia shining through in the vibrancy of his frame. Yes we don’t have the huge musical numbers of Stanley Donan and Gene Kelly or the sheer scale of Busby Berkley but Demy doesn’t need these when he has composition and colour. The Technicolor glow of every environment in Cherbourg is a sight to behold, he doesn’t need to use huge sound stages with dance routines to perform his art, and instead he makes real life magical and otherworldly through retina burning pinks, greens and blues. He shows a painters eye for using colour in composition with clear reference being taken from the great Hollywood classics, especially Gene Kelly’s oeuvre.

To say the film is a perfect example of musical filmmaking is not correct. At points the structure of the songs works against it with sentences having to be rushed or crowbarred into the beat of the background music. This is not necessarily a negative however and for me just added to the charm of the piece. It is not an overly happy film despite the vibrancy of every other aspect from the cinematography to the acting to the songs, the plot remains drenched in ennui. As with many of the films in and around the French New Wave both joy and sadness are to be found but you must always break through or reckon with an auteur vision of whatever subject is to be found. For me Demy here created an accessibly vivid tale of young love which dodges the pretensions of the day whilst still feeling artistically daring.

-Ed

If you liked this, follow us on twitter here.

Advertisements
The Umbrellas of Cherbourg (1964)

Christine (2016)

christine_ver2

This overlooked twisted nerve of a film is a very real and emotionally felt, rich examination of a soul on the edge. Directed by Antonio Campos and based on the tragic true story of Christine Chubbuck, a small-time news reporter who is both battling with the changing tides of news journalism as well as her own mental health. Based in Sarasota Florida the station in which Chubbuck works is intensely local, with most of their news being targeted towards those who still believe the news to be informative and truthful. However ratings are plummeting and Mike, the station manager is looking for juicier stories. Chubbuck as a figure in the film is a sweetly natured and well-meaning soul, she doesn’t drink; sings along to john Denver in the car and lives a life devoted to telling stories from real life for real people. As the film progresses it becomes clearer and clearer she is not really cut out for this world, even if it is local, blood and guts journalism is the call of the day.

Due to the real life tragedy that the film is based on this film has to tackle an incredibly complex and largely unknown figure in a respectful and unsensational way. Campos is clearly acutely aware of this and has taken real care in his recreation of the world that Chubbuck inhabited with period detail being very pointedly accurate. The frame is tinted with that signature 70s beige glow that we have come to expect of stories from the period. This is only accentuated by the brownness of the décor of most of the film as the fashions and set design of the station all conjure up the world of 70s Sarasota perfectly. Campos does not want to make a caricature and just feed scepticism however he does want to link this with the media of the time in a very tangible way. The story itself is something straight out of the hyperbole of Sidney Lumet and Paddy Chayefsky’s brilliant bullhorn of the rise of news hysteria, Network. However unlike Network this isn’t a parable to warn us of the coming debasement of news, this is coming from a modern voice where this has already happened. Christine is also aware of this and this is her struggle that sends her into a bottomless pit that eventually will swallow her.

Rebecca Hall is a revelation and at points is a sympathetic and sweet natured figure of amusement, the film is funny and goofy in the first act. Christine is weird and off kilter but mostly harmless, it is once you are lulled into this fairly light beginning to the film when the second act starts and we see the real heart and goal of the film, to show depression in its clearest form. It’s not as if Christine is happy and then not, we just see hints at first. Her invitation of a happy couple to be on the TV in an awkward encounter after being stood up by her divorcee mother, this then creates a tension between her and her mother and soon we start to find Christine spiralling. Hall gives the character a sympathetic edge that makes her misfortune all the more heart wrenching. Depression is a beast that Christine isn’t able to fight and we as the audience have to sit by and see how easy it becomes to overlook by others. The stations employees might notice things going wrong but Christine avoids their attentions, Hall physically retreating into herself as they invite her to go out with them or do other things apart from chase stories to get on air. Michael C Hall tries at one point to help her in a sequence that sticks in the mind as one of the most tragic moments of storytelling I have seen in modern cinema.

Campos in Christine offers a truly honest portrayal of a soul on the edge with Rebecca Hall as the beautifully misguided and lost Christine, a figure who may be lost to myth and legend but made truly real through a criminally overlooked performance. I can’t kid and say that this is an easy watch but I really do feel it is a must watch especially for people wanting to understand and see into what depression is and how it can be stopped. Not every story with those in Christine’s position ends like hers did but it is essential we can learn from her story and do what her co-workers were unable to.

-Ed

-If you like this follow us on twitter here.

Christine (2016)

You Were Never Really Here (2018)

You-Were-Never-Really-Here-poster-600x889

 

Sometimes you watch a film which reminds you just how plot obsessed we have become in our media landscape. The quest for weightier and more complex narrative continues to drive modern popular cinema, perhaps in a response to the complexities of the great stories being told on our TV screens. However in film sometimes you don’t need a lot of narrative shifts in order to leave a great impression. You Were Never Really Here (2018, Dir. Lynne Ramsay) is an exercise in taut and abrasive storytelling with hardly any meat on the bones to pick on.

We have a hitman hired to seek revenge on child pornographers or paedophiles in general and suddenly n one job things take a turn for the worse. This is essentially the entire narrative of the film, however within this Ramsey challenges the audience and uses every trick in her arsenal to make this short brutal film as effective as possible. Joe is our main character, played by the ever brilliant Joaquin Phoenix, a recent veteran with a gift for reeking bloody justice on the darkest and most depraved of society. His vigilante justice shares more than a little with Travis Bickle from Taxi Driver. He may be less talkative and perhaps a more endearing a psychopath than Bickle but it is clear that the two share a psycho cinema bloodline. Much like Bickle we feel the nihilism of the main character and his lack of care or sympathy for the dregs of society. Ramsey herself pulls our attention to the comparison between the two nutjobs, we have scenes of Joe walking in the exact same way as the swaggering Bickle. We also have parallels with the political figures of taxi driver, however they are much less sympathetically seen in Lynne Ramsey’s eyes, becoming embroiled deeper and deeper into Joe’s perverse alternative society. Scorsese is clearly the main influence here and it is writ very large for those who are familiar with the 70s masterpiece, however this is still its own film and in essence is more a reworking of the story for a modern age.

As may be apparent this is not exactly a fun watch and at points it can be teeth clenchingly nasty and brutal. Ramsey does not use this subject however to really leer at the violence of the story and instead often chooses to find some kind of prism to view the hyper-violence of Joe through. Be it in a mirror or through the lens of a CCTV camera the audience is often one step removed from whatever horrific thing is happening at the hands of Joe. It is as if Ramsey is reluctant herself to show these actions in stark HD and would rather the audience itself was able to step back and just observe him, like a caged animal ripping apart its lunch.

The film as a whole is more a character study than a video nasty and often spends a lot of time not progressing, Ramsey would rather give Joe the space to think and contemplate what he is doing in his life and in turn let us sit with him and contemplate our own reactions to him as a person. Instead of just powering ahead and letting the audience gawk at the horror of Joe we instead get to see him as a human being, we see him with his mother and the care he brings to her. We hear him be funny with her and also see the violence in his own past which has led to his own insensitivity to violence and his line of work. The film asks us to consider Joe as a real person much more than is often comfortable and as the film moves into its final act you do start to care about him much more than you may expect to. He is a man removed from the world around him, the film pays attention to him but also the spaces he leaves behind and will linger and shift its eye from him to those around him. We see the normality of the society that surrounds him and yet we know that we are not here to really look at that and as Joe spirals out the film starts to become more and more insular, we zone in whilst Joe zones out.

Ramsey here has created a razor-sharp, taut and Brutal meditation on the human psyche at its limits, and the confidence and strength of Phoenix’s performance pummelled me into submission to its savage viewpoint. If I see another film this year that is this tightly constructed and gut punching I will be very impressed.

-Ed

If you liked this, follow us on twitter here.

You Were Never Really Here (2018)

The Shape of Water (2017)

The Shape of Water

This latest installment from Mexico’s Gothic master Guillermo Del Toro is a thing of true beauty. Del Toro has long stood in my mind as one of modern cinema’s great heroes, championing classic film storylines and longstanding traditions in a masterful way. He fuses fairy-tale wonder and brutal realism in a completely singular and brilliant way. Since his true breakout masterpiece Pans Labyrinth (2006) I have always looked forward to seeing what his macabre mind could create. With The Shape of Water I truly think he has come close to recapturing the magic and brilliance he mustered in Pans Labyrinth, a film which is at once childlike and brutally honest and mature.

The story follows Sally Hawkins as Elisa, a mute cleaner at a highly secret government facility who is perfectly happy with her routine. She lives above a cinema with her disgruntled neighbour come best friend Giles, a struggling advertisement artist and spends most of her days working and her nights eating and resting.

This intolerance is brought into stark relief for Elisa when an ‘asset’ is brought to the facility in which she works. This ‘asset’ is accompanied by a model of upstanding 50s republicanism embodied by the ever brilliant Michael Shannon as the heavy hand of the decades morality Richard Strickland. He is a man who is obsessed by the status quo, drenched in protestant reasoning and staunch conservative ideals. Shannon thunders into Elisa’s innocuous world and remains a towering force of aggression and conservatism that the film plays with beautifully. Elisa is immediately drawn to the ‘asset’ and soon discovers this is not some object, rather a form of aquatic life the like no human has ever seen. Strickland believes the thing to be an abomination whilst Elisa see’s the humanity and the parallels between her and it and soon becomes wrapped up in an obsession that can only escalate for her.

What this film really excels at is creating a world in which you are drawn completely into, within minutes of the opening scene I knew that I was going to enjoy myself in Elisa’s world. I feel that a huge part of this is the stellar turn by Sally Hawkins who once again proves herself as one of the most underrated actresses out there. With the character unable to talk Hawkins pulls on every trick in her arsenal and uses each second she is on-screen to talk through her motions, past just the sign language. Every smile or furrow of the brow you feel is completely heartfelt and emotionally relevant to the character. Hawkins and her portrayal of Elisa is the vital beating heart of the film, a quietly powerful anchor upon which the film hangs its story.

To return to the narrative of the film, there is a huge figure I have only hinted at briefly. The ‘asset’ itself. This creature cuts a similar figure to Abe Sapien from Del Toro’s Hellboy (2004) films if he didn’t have the wisecracks or a voice at all. Del Toro is clearly thinking back to this character, along with his love for HP Lovecraft’s similar creations. However Doug Jones as the creature is much more subtle than either of these influences suggest. In order for the audience to care for the creature as much as Elisa does we must believe in the humanity behind the scaly facade and the lightness of touch with which Del Toro demonstrates in the two outcasts interactions makes for a really beautiful sequence of encounters. This is a film of movement and feeling rather than straight ahead speech, the two main figures work in such a physical way you are reminded of silent film stars and the ways in which they would have to use their full body to express their own characters.

As is to be expected with such a high concept story and with Del Toro at the helm the production design is sure to sweep the technical awards categories at the Oscars with every scene clearly mapped out to perfectly reflect the fantastical tone of the film. Del Toro seems to take influence from a broad palate, however I was particularly reminded of the overlooked French curio Micmacs (2009, Dir. Jean Pierre Jeunet) which shares both thematic nods to The Shape of Water as well as visual echoes in it lighting and general imaginative sepia toned and expressionistic set design. Del Toro creates a film world which is full of nightmares and darkness but we as the audience are on board wholeheartedly due to the strength of the dreams he realises on-screen. The Shape of Water is his best since Pans Labyrinth by a country mile and is something I will treasure for a long time.

-Ed

If you liked this, follow us on twitter here.

The Shape of Water (2017)

Possession (1985)

Possession

When a film gets labelled as a cult movie it usually means that the film doesn’t have a great reception on its initial release. It could have been badly reviewed but actually misunderstood, just plain bad or even banned upon its release. The most famous example of banned cult filmmaking is represented most starkly in the list of ‘video nasties’ which were titles banned from release in the UK for their gratuitous violence or dark thematic content by the sensitive 70s and 80s BBFC. Some of these were trash with titles like Driller Killer (1979, Dir. Abel Ferrara) or Cannibal Holocaust (1980, Dir. Ruggero Deodato). However other titles have gained huge popularity partially helped by the infamy of the list, films like The Evil Dead (1981, Dir. Sam Raimi) or The Texas Chainsaw Massacre (1974, Dir. Tobe Hooper) later being recognised as hugely competent and important examples of genre filmmaking.

Now, Possession (1985, Dir. Andzrej Zulawski) was one of these ‘video nasties’ and having seen it I can perhaps understand why it wasn’t received by a conservative ratings agency with open arms. Not an easily digestible 2 hours this one, but for sure a worthwhile one. The film has intrigued me for a long time and after finally watching it I have to say that this is one that if you enjoy extreme filmmaking, this is a must watch. Following the breakdown of his marriage Andrzej Zulawski embarked on a project that no doubt just added fire to the flames of his already messy divorce. Think Polanski and his response to the murder of his wife in through the violence of his Macbeth (1971, Dir. Roman Polanski). Zulawski is channeling similarly bleak feelings, screaming at the top of his lungs about his divorce.

Sam Neill plays Mark, a man sent back from a mysterious mission and it soon becomes clear that he has successfully and almost totally isolated himself from his wife Anna (Isabelle Adjani) who has been caring for their son in his absence. The details of his mission or his job are never fully explained and honestly I’m not sure it matters that much, what does matter is that Anna has cheated on Mark in his absence. This is news that neither of them seem very well equipped to deal with as soon the screaming starts. No sooner has Mark found out the infidelity than he is smashing up a café and holing up in a hotel room for 3 weeks on a crazy marital problem bender. The hysteria of the film really is both its strongest suit and also is its least palatable, what will turn off a huge amount of viewers. Watching Possession in light of having seen last year’s deeply divisive Mother! (2017, Dir. Darren Aronofsky) you really understand exactly where he was looking for inspiration. Aronofsky does in that film a pretty decent impression of the extremity of expression that Zulawski nails in Possession. Divorce and marital strife are examined by Zulawski in broad strokes with neither the husband nor the wife being without blame for the events of the film.

To describe exactly what happens past the set-up is mute as the film is not ultimately about plot in plain terms. The couple go nuts in the first 10 minutes and only become more unhinged and extreme as the runtime counts down to the explosive final act. This is not to say that the whirlwind of emotions that the film expresses are done in an amateur way, it may be the most overwrought apocalyptic vision of this kind of story that you may ever see but Zulawski handles it all in his stride. He and DOP Bruno Nuytten swirl the camera around the action of the film with deft Steadicam and handheld photography only adding to the disorientation. The film is almost never still with almost every conversation being done in frantic movement with the camera following or preempting each movement almost working as a supernatural third character in the story. The virtuosity of the camerawork comes to a head perhaps the most well-known scene in the film. Set in an underground station walkway Isabelle Adjani’s justifies her Cannes best actress award in spectacular form. Her characterisation of her sheer descent into complete madness is almost balletic, the camera creeps around her as she throws herself around the harsh artificially lit space. The power of her performance is really crystallised in this scene and her commitment to the role is extraordinary, she seems to completely sink into he madness of the film and is powerfully effective in remaining a figure of shuddering possession and brutality throughout. I may seem hyperbolic in my reading of her turn but it really can’t be understated, it is very rare you see an actor commit in the way Adjani here does.

Andrzej Zulawski here places himself amongst the best examples of extreme filmmaking with his nightmare of marital problems and cart-wheeling madness, a truly brilliant piece of underrated European filmmaking. See this if you can stomach it.

-Ed

If you liked this, follow us on twitter here.

Possession (1985)

Blade Runner 2049

Blade Runner 2049

Blade Runner (1982, Dir. Ridley Scott), a dystopian vision of a bleak, inhuman future is one of the most acclaimed science fiction films of the last 50 years. Its influence on science-fiction after its release has made it become a totemic text for many film buffs and just general fans of the genre. I must admit that I am a huge Blade Runner fan, or should I say Blade Runner: The Final Cut (2007) fan. For me it stands alongside other Sci-Fi masterpieces as an example of what can truly be achieved through genre cinema. It may contain schlocky violence and far out concepts, but it also fuses genres seamlessly whilst delivering a visual marvel at the same time. It has long been a film I have held onto and watched time and again an embarrassingly large number of times, I just love it that much.

It is understandable then, why I was so hesitant to even think about the possibility of a sequel to what could possibly be my favourite film. When you watch the Final Cut  it is clear that it wasn’t made in a way which would gesture towards a sequel. The ending is so iconic and untouchable in my mind, that the notion of a sequel filled me with a real sense of dread. I felt that a new director and continuation of the world would only result in something embarrassingly wrong-footed. Denis Villeneuve however has done something so rarely achieved, he’s actually nailed a sequel so convincingly that many fans of the original are now feeling conflicted about which is better.

This is certainly close to the predicament that I find myself in, whilst I know the original will always be the one which I hold dearest to me, Blade Runner 2049 (2017, Dir. Denis Villeneuve) has expanded the world perfectly and brought a new story to match if not surpass Scott’s original effort. Villeneuve continues on the world of the original. But 30 years after the death of Roy Batty and the disappearance of Harrison Ford’s Rick Deckard, the world has moved on from the dense chaotic Los Angeles of 2019. Things are sparser now, bleaker, and less human. The original is so often remembered as a philosophical navel gazing piece of neo-noir, which it certainly is. However this sequel doesn’t just ape the questions on humanity and what it means to be a sentient being in this dystopian future. Instead Villeneuve and Hampton Fancher in partnership with Michael Green use this opportunity to further these ideas.

What I mean by this is that Villeneuve shows himself to be completely aware that by doing this sequel he has to enter into the questions on what it means to be a mortal being in the world the film creates. The nature of replicants as being manufactured life has to be expanded upon and through the use of both plot and character this is achieved to an even deeper level to the first film.

It is here that I feel I have to shout out Roger Deakins, who once again dazzles the audience with a compositional eye for detail which is rarely matched in modern Hollywood filmmaking. The use of light in so much of this film draws you into this harsh, brutal America of 2049, a world where nothing is natural and pure anymore, and is so saturated by human influence that even the natural light of the world is shrouded in fog and dark tones. Deakins and Villeneuve’s implementation of expressionistic shadows gives the interiors of the film a tight control and a coldness. This contrasted with the queasy oranges or bleak frosty grey and white panoramas gives the film an aesthetic palate that truly draws the viewer in. Blade Runner 2049 will be seen in years to come to have some of the most experimental and best cinematography to be seen in a movie in a mainstream blockbuster this decade. Excuse me for becoming breathless here, but the film really just does look that good and I would be very surprised if it didn’t win at least one Oscar for its aesthetic input in either Cinematography or CGI.

The further I get into this review the more I realise just how pleased I am with the fact that they made this film, and this is something I didn’t expect. I thought that even if it was good that I would still find things to nit-pick about it but as a die-hard Blade Runner fan it was just so perfectly spot on in so many ways. For me it will be near or if not at the top of my end of year list. It managed to take a story that I know inside and out, in a world that I am obsessed with, and pay homage in a completely respectful and yet innovative way. When leaving the cinema I was stunned by it and as I get further away from my initial viewing, I am only more impressed. Thank you Mr Villeneuve for giving me a new film in my favourite cinematic universe to watch again, and again, and again.

-Ed

If you liked this, follow us on twitter here.

Blade Runner 2049

Mother!

Mother!

Mother! (2017, Dir. Darren Aronofsky) is a film which as that exclamation mark in its name suggests, is not for the fainthearted. It has quickly become one of the most controversial pictures of the year, with many critics and audience members being torn over what to think about it. When I had first came out of the screening I was in the same boat, baffled at what I had just seen. One thing I knew for certain was  that it’s an experience that will need a strong constitution to take. This of course shouldn’t come as a surprise to those familiar with Aronofsky’s past work, he is not exactly a comedic romp kind of guy. As he has shown in his past work, he really does not have any fear in delving into darkly twisted moments of depravity and horror. He sits in the same box as Lars Von Trier in my mind as an individual enfant terrible kind of figure, railing against sense and decency with an admirable verve. Unfortunately for many of Mother!’s paying audience they did not quite get the memo on Aronofsky’s style and it feels like he really has pushed this boat to its limits for many people.

The storyline of the film really comes as secondary to the experience of watching the film, the second half especially almost defies any kind of pithy explanation. Ostensibly the film is about an evening that goes awry for a poet and his wife when a doctor turns up out of nowhere, forcing himself on the couple. He is then followed by his wife and as time goes on more and more people turn up, much to the husband’s amusement and his wife’s alarm. The husband here is played with an eerie level of glee by an electrifying Javier Bardem who is a both charismatic and crazed character the role of ‘Him’ (as he is credited). ‘Him’ is a poet, a title that as the world starts to crumble around Bardem and Jennifer Lawrence’s character ‘Mother’ comes to mean a lot more than first thought. Bardem is surely one of the best psycho actors working today, the way he can portray a crazed and unpredictable temperament at times come startlingly close to a Kinski level of crazy. In many other films his performance here would seem ridiculously overblown and scenery chewing… However this being one of the most ridiculous films in so many years he fits right in.

Bardem however only remains so effective due to the at times subdued but at all times masterful performance by Jennifer Lawrence in one of the most unique roles that she has surely ever attempted. The film is from her viewpoint for almost its entire runtime and Aronofsky has used her in such a way that he really has no choice as an actor but to push herself to her limits. ‘Mother’ is not an easy role for her to undertake, she is so often a reactive figure in the plot, not really contributing to the overall path of the story and instead having to play off of, whereas the other characters force the plot. However the focusing on Lawrence for so much of the film means that Lawrence has to do a lot of the legwork in keeping the audience grounded to a sense of place and viewpoint. She is often not saying or influencing much but Lawrence always hold the attention of the camera in her grip and never lets your attention stray from the screen. In such a melodramatic and attention grabbing film as this Lawrence is the lynchpin that without her, the film would fall apart.

The film is centred around these two main roles and does give these characters a lot to do, however Aronofsky’s figure looms large in this film and it is clear that he is the real star of the film. Mother! is so dense with little details and clues as to what is actually going on, every moment is significant to him, it’s clear to see. He wants to baffle and astound you and leave you naked to the possibilities of the film. I am trying here to be as vague as possible to the actual events of the film because I feel that if you are interested in seeing the film it is probably best to know as little as possible about it beforehand.

As I noted earlier though, there are probably some caveats to this you should take into account before seeing it. I would say that to actually enjoy the film you do have to surrender to its surrealist, allegorical viewpoint, just let yourself go along for the ride and make sure you have a stomach for some darkness before going in. For me the coiled spring at the heart of the narrative just tightened and tightened to an almost unbearable level, this is not to say I regretted seeing it . It was an experience akin to being on a truly terrifying rollercoaster where you may want to get off, but you can’t because you are strapped in for the ride whether you like it or not.

Mother! is at times beautiful, at times horrific and at times willingly ludicrous. I never found myself bored or found my attention straying from the events on-screen and as I get further and further away from my initial viewing I have certain images from it that will stay in my mind long after this review is published. It’s an impressively daring piece of work by a divisive filmmaker, which is worth seeing if you know you can take it. If  however you just like Jennifer Lawrence and home invasion films I would say, this is not the film for you.

-Ed

Mother!