Women making history one bomb at a time

Carey Mulligan stars in "Suffragette." Image courtesy Focus Features

Politeness and traditional British social rules accomplish little  in “Suffragette,” a film that depicts the women's suffrage movement of the early 1900s in the United Kingdom as a civil war. Women and men supporting women’s right to vote square off against the government and its ruthless police force: Bombs are lit, torturous acts are committed, and female bodies are beaten without mercy as much of the country offers an unsympathetic collection of tsk tsks to the female combatants.

That's the battle “Suffragette's” protagonist, Maud Watts (Carey Mulligan), is coerced into through a few simple acts guided by good or bad timing, depending on how the point of view. Prior to becoming a civil rights warrior, she works as a laundress in a large, dangerous factory in London alongside her husband (Ben Whishaw), earning far less than he for a job that is far more dangerous. They do have a lovely little moppet of a son (Adam Michael Dodd), who Mulligan dotes upon with raging tenderness and a soothing voice. It's not a happy life for the family – this is one of those barely make ends meet scenarios – but the unit does enough to have a roof, food, and enough clothing to stay warm.

At least until Mulligan replaces a coworker (Anne-Marie Duff) and gives a testimony to Parliament as part of a hearing that could result in women earning voting rights. The potential turns for naught though, and Mulligan is thrust right smack dab into the clash between her fellow protesters (Helena Bonham Carter's Edith Ellyn among them) and the country's law enforcers, including Brendan Gleeson's moderately kind inspector. The time for kind words and cookies are over as the women launch an explosive campaign to draw attention to their movement, guided in spirit and in one rousing speech by leader Emmeline Pankhurst (Meryl Streep).

Such actions have their consequences, a fact “Suffragette” reinforces through the fate poor Mulligan receives for joining the movement. She's kicked out of her home by her husband, fired by her lecherous employer, force fed in prison, and watches as her son is taken away because she lacks custody of her child. Mulligan takes the emotional hit but continues onward anyway, throwing herself even deeper into the skirmishes and raising a little hell along the way.

“Suffragette” is a brutal film, depicting the acts of violence toward woman in a gritty, uncomfortable fashion, most notably via a protest broken up through batons, punches and kicks directed toward women with no means of protecting themselves. Director Sarah Gavron and writer Abi Morgan don't shy away from depicting that violence either; they want the viewers to have at least a proper inkling of what the protesters went through to earn the right to vote, and what they went through was not all rainbows and lollipops. “Suffragette” doesn't offer a complete history lesson about the fight, but it provides a nice entryway for anyone eager to learn more about the era and the reaction to the suffrage movement during the era; although it is a bit surprising the film didn't use the “learn more about it at your local library” line as a postscript. What is in its place though is a timeline outlining when women earned the right to vote in various countries, an informative bit of information that drops the hammer on the nail with a little too much force. “Suffragette” loses itself as a film to historical didactism, tossing in bits of dialogue to emphasize political points the character would not use otherwise.

The need to tell story of such a complex movement requires the use of a deep roster of characters who become blurred together as the film progresses. Such a movie can’t devote enough time to give a peek into the lives of all the characters, which wouldn’t be a problem if a secondary character didn’t offer herself up as a sacrificial lamb; the moment is rough, but the film doesn't invest enough time with her to make the moment land with the desired thump.

Fortunately, “Suffragette” isn't lost completely to polemics and politics. Grounding the violence, the rhetoric and the overly didactic closing statement is a simple, tragic story of a mother loving her son and a son loving his mother. Mulligan and Dodd have an incredible rapport, bouncing off each other with obvious glee and affection and the occasional bout of silliness that just makes the relationship that much more endearing. That bond serves as the heart of the film, the main reason why “Suffragette” isn't lost to a wave of moral self-righteousness, and a reminder that governments should never, ever piss off a devoted mother.

Review: Four out of Five Stars

Click here to see the trailer.

Rating: PG-13

Run time: 106 minutes

Genre: Historical drama

Ask Away

Target audience: Anyone down for a bit of history reenactment tied to women's rights.

Take the whole family?: A 13 year old can handle it, but “Suffragette” gets a little discomfiting and graphically violent for anyone much younger.

Theater or Netflix?: It's cool to go for a matinee or as part of a class trip for teens.

Academy Award chances?: “Suffragette” doesn't have a great chance of picking up any nominations for writing, directing, top film or cinematography – tracking sites don't have it listed among the contenders – although Carey Mulligan has a very strong (and deserving) chance at a nod for Best Actress.

Watch this as well?: There really aren't a plethora of films about the suffrage movement, so I'll go with a couple of female-oriented films by the terrific Kelly Reichardt – the tragic “Wendy and Lucy” and the existential western “Meek's Cutoff.”

The truth will set you free... or not

Cate Blanchett stars in "Truth." Image courtesy Sony Pictures Classic

What I hate most about journalism as an industry is how self important it can be. Most reporters are doing their jobs for what are ostensibly the correct reasons (providing information to the public, keeping an eye on the government's actions, etc.), but there is a huge amount of ego involved that's carried by the fact news people have a legitimate effect on culture based on what they decide to cover. Good journalists know when to step aside and let the story be the story; bad journalists are lazy and allow themselves to become the story to make them feel just a tiny bit better about their station in life. The film “Truth,” then, is the product of people who would be bad journalists if they practiced in that field. It’s a movie that pretends to be about discovering what its title is and investigating an issue of grand importance to outrage the audience. In reality, it’s ersatz reporting to justify a pity party for poor Mary Mapes.

Who is Mary Mapes? She's a former television news producer canned by CBS about 10 years ago for a report about former President George W. Bush's seemingly spotty record in the Texas Army National Guard. Mapes, as played by Cate Blanchett, is a gravedigger, a woman who lives to sift through information in order to discover the titular truth inside of it. The film essentially starts off by acknowledging her bona fides via a report on “60 Minutes” in 2004 about the torture at Abu Ghraib, which would later win a Peabody Award (a fact the film points out in its postscript).

Blanchett follows that up with a story that could have a heavy influence on that year's presidential election; allegations that then-President Bush was granted special treatment to join the Texas Army National Guard in 1968 so he wouldn't have to fight in Vietnam. She assembles a small, crack team of reporters (Dennis Quaid, Topher Grace, and a barely used Elisabeth Moss) to investigate, which results in confirmation from former Texas Lt. Gov. Ben Barnes (Philip Quast) that strings were pulled for Bush and other Texas elites. Most notably, the reporting leads to a collection of papers (later called the Killian Documents after supposed writer Lt. Col. Jerry Killian) offered by mysterious retired Lt. Col. Bill Burkett (Stacy Keach) indicating the future governor of Texas went AWOL during his time with the guard.

The team puts a piece together outlining the allegations, and the report is aired on an episode of“60 Minutes” hosted by venerable anchor Dan Rather (Robert Redford) approximately two months before the election. Backlash against the story begins shortly following the airing, with websites and other media sources alleging the documents CBS used were forgeries generated using Microsoft Word. With their backs now against the wall – and media members with conservative and liberal leanings after them – Blanchett and her crew must defend their reporting and the heart of the story against ruthless jackals and jackanapes.

At least, that's how “Truth” presents the story, probably because the film is based on a book written by Mapes. Writer/director James Vanderbilt appears to take her word as gospel, waving off almost every criticism of the report as attacks by people motivated by politics and sexism. Blanchett's Mapes is let off the hook repeatedly, with the film emphasizing again and again that she did her darndest to report the truth for the betterment of the American people. She's the hero of the story, painted as a woman who fights the good fight against big people (“I don't like bullies,” she says). Redford's Rather, too, comes off as a golden god, a man who is larger than life both on and off screen, and is even given a final moment of great importance followed by a bit of information that straight-up decimates the grand goodbye.

“Truth” would merely by annoying had it focused solely on the purportedly tragic fall of what the film considers a good journalist, but its overwhelming sense of self-righteousness makes it flipping unbearable. The film shows Blanchett and her team – Grace's character in particular – as fighters raging against the political machine on behalf of the American people, part of a dying breed of journalists doing so. (Another quote from Blanchett: “There aren't a lot of people who do what we do anymore.”) The sheer audacity and solipsism in that concept is staggering, and the fact the film never analyzes or even calls out the CBS reporters for that is amazingly cowardly. For a film that purports to support great journalism, it falls at capturing even the most basic tenets of the practice.

Review: One and a half out of Five Stars

Click here to see the trailer.

Rating: R

Run time: 121 minutes

Genre: Biographical

Ask Away

Target audience: The friends and family of Mary Mapes.

Take the whole family?: There is a bit of mild cursing, but nothing to really justify a proper “R” rating. Still, it will get quiet tedious for kids and for many adults.

Theater or Netflix?: Might as well stay home if you want to watch it.

What is the truth about the Killian Documents?: They’re more than likely faked, although the film never embraces the idea that there is some ambiguity to the legitimacy of the letters by Lt. Col. Jerry Killian. “Truth” defends the legitimacy of the documents in full force  but the fact those documents are copies and the originals cannot be produced makes them squiffy at best. At worst, the CBS reporters got duped very, very easily.

Watch this instead?: “Shattered Glass” is a much, much more interesting film about a journalist's fall from grace. Unlike “Truth,” the film is a bit more even handed and explores the grander consequences for the falsehoods spread by its central figure, Stephen Glass. Also check out “Good Night, and Good Luck,” an excellent retelling of Edward R. Murrow's investigation of infamous Sen. Joseph McCarthy.

Talking suffrage, 'Mary Poppins,' and feminism with 'Suffragette' director Sarah Gavron

A scene from the film "Suffragette," directed by Sarah Gavron. Image courtesy Focus Features.

“Suffragette,” the new film starring Carey Mulligan, Helena Bonham Carter and Meryl Streep, tells the story of a working-class English woman who finds herself deeply involved in the suffrage movement in the early 1900s. The battle, as depicted in the film, is marked by acts of criminal disobedience by women and brutality against female protesters by police.

The film's director, Sarah Gavron, sat down for an interview in Boston to talk about the film and issues around it. The discussion – transcribed here and edited for clarity and length – covers topics ranging from depicting violent acts against women on film to being asked about being a feminist and learning more about the suffrage movement through “Mary Poppins.” You can listen to the entire interview here.

Q: I think the best part of the film is the relationship between Carey (Mulligan) and her son (played by Adam Michael Dodd). How did you develop that bond?

Sarah Gavron: It's really different with children. I was working with very experienced actors, and he was a child who never acted before. We didn't rehearse the scene at all. He was a really emotional little boy, even in the read through when we got to that scene he burst into tears every time he talked about it.

It was a case of making them bond as a family, Carey in particular, went with him to museums and went on trips with him and got to know him, so he felt very relaxed with her. And I was trying to keep him away from the lines in a way because once children start to learn lines they say them in a very rote way and you can't get that fresh quality out of them. He's a charming little boy, and he's very raw and open, which is beautiful as an actor.

Q: I'm also a sucker for the fake stair gag outside the window. Was that something that was improvised or was it planned out?

Gavron: We talked a bit about what she could do outside the window because Abi (screenwriter Abi Morgan) had written a scene with Maud (Mulligan's character) playing outside the window. We decided it was the burgeoning of cinema, it was a little before Charlie Chaplin, although it was just on the cusp of him so we thought we would do a little homage.

Q: This is a very violent film, especially toward women. Was it tough for you to film that or did you want to be honest about the situation?

Gavron: We did want to be honest. We felt it was a really important aspect of it because it's not widely known – one the lengths the women went, but also the violence they faced from the police and the state. And it seemed to echo a lot of what's happening in the world today, and we felt we wanted to show the consequences of their actions; we didn't want to shy away from any of the brutality.

In terms of filming it, it was about getting willing stunt people to help coordinate it, and you've got a lot of stunt people very used to doing action films so everything starts to look a little bit cartoony. The sound people had to go “no, no, no, we have to keep this real, we can't use any of the triggers of an action film.” It's the default setting.

Q: Is it discomfiting that the police committed the violence against women on behalf of the state, with the state having a hatred of half the population?

Gavron: It seemed shocking, and it's also shocking against women and the fact they weren't even defending themselves. They then later learned jiu jitsu in order to defend themselves.

Q: How much did you learn about the suffrage movement when researching this and how much was it taught in the United Kingdom?

Gavron: It wasn't addressed at all. I promise you it was not mentioned in my entire education. I learned about it through “Mary Poppins.” That was pretty much it, “Sister Suffragette.” I won't start singing, but I could.

Q: You literally learned more about the suffrage movement from “Mary Poppins” than you did in school?

Gavron: Yeah, yeah, yeah, and it was only later when I started talking to people about it and reading about it. There was a TV series in the U.K. called “Shoulder to Shoulder” in the late '70s. It was a little before my time – I was born in the '70s, but I was a bit young. I did watch it later and it really made a big impression on lots of people, and not just me. It was mainly about the Pankhursts, but it did have some of the violence.

Q: In another interview, you mentioned Kathryn Bigelow as one of your inspirations, which is interesting considering how much of a masculine director she is. What did you pick up from her?

Gavron: I think she's a really accomplished director. As you say, the subject matter doesn't reflect the fact that she's a female filmmaker necessarily, but the fact she was doing it and she was a really accomplished director, that alone was enough to inspire me. It wasn't so much the subject matter, but it was her talent as a director and the fact she was a woman out there doing it. As we know, it's like 1-10 percent of films each year are made by women, and there is this woman making very successful, very accomplished film, and that's inspiring.

Q: One thing I find interesting about the film is it doesn't have a simple, quick resolution. The last act of the film plays it more as the start of something else. Was that your intent?

Gavron: The thing is history doesn't wrap itself up neatly, and this movement certainly didn't. We felt like, let's be honest to that. For me the ending is they are not going to give up, the fight goes on. It's a climactic moment with that death, which is a sign of how desperate they are and it was the turning point in terms of the public's response; it got a lot of media and public attention, which was one of their goals to be honest. It was a tragedy, and there's no taking away from that, but there was a little sea change with that. But, nevertheless, that itself wasn't the end, the fight goes on. In the phrase, “the fight goes on,” you want that sense that Maud is now a different person; she's committed, and she'll never look back. She's kind of, in her personal journey, there's a sense of resolution in that she knows who she is, she knows she'll continue on that trajectory.

Q: You've mentioned before Maud is a composite character. How necessary was it to create that composite character, almost an audience surrogate?

Gavron: One, there were lots of working women involved in the movement. It seemed like they were lesser known and they're in the shadows even more than other women are. It felt like their stories are compelling. We could have chosen one single working woman, but there is a kind of freedom with a little bit of creation. Because we based it on everything that happened to her happened to somebody but we could liberate ourselves and set it in the exact time period we want to. And if you do a biopic you're beholden to their life story in a different way.

We considered, but we didn't want, to do a biopic about Emmeline Pankhurst (played by Meryl Streep in the film). I think someone should make a film about her. But that would have been through exceptional people, and we thought turning the story about ordinary working women who had so much – in a way more – to lose. Because this movement brought together working women, and they did so much, we thought that would be the way the everywoman can connect with it today in a more visceral way.

Q: Was it satisfying to have Carey burn the factory owner's hand with the iron? It's not explicitly stated, but he's clearly a rapist.

Gavron: He is, yeah. Yeah, I think she'd reached a breaking point. It was a spontaneous act which she couldn't control. It's interesting because the audience response in the U.K. is a hushed shock, but here there was even applause in some screenings.

Q: I'm not going to ask if you're a feminist – you've said yes in other interviews – but is it kind of frustrating to be asked that question so frequently? Because, in a weird way, you have to prove your bona fides, and the question is never asked to men.

Gavron: Bridget Christie, who is this comedienne in the U.K., said the question should be are you not a feminist? In a way, doesn't everybody believe in equality these days? I'll tell you why I'm not frustrated by it, and I'm not frustrated because … five years ago people would be asked “are you a feminist” and they'd really squirm and they'd avoid it and it was really awkward. Now, in the U.K. at least, there's a complete change. I did a screening the other day and this male MP (member of parliament) stood up at the end of the film – and he's called Sadiq Khan and he's standing to be the next mayor of London – and he said, “I'm going to ask a question, I'm a feminist by the way.” And I thought I never would have heard that.

I think it's great, and I think the reason we're being asked is because we're at that critical tipping point. And once we've got it out of the way, next year let's hope nobody will need to ask it. It'll be established, but we're at that changing point where everyone's just double checking. I think, in a way, as a female filmmaker, we're still at a point where I need to talk about what it's like to be a woman filmmaker. And hopefully I won't need to talk about that forever, but at this point I need to talk about it because we haven't yet got parity or anywhere near it. And when we do, then we can move on. But until we do, people need to keep addressing, keep reminding, keep talking about why, and all those issues.

Q: I think part of the issue is feminism isn't cut and dry anymore. There's first wave feminism versus third way feminism, and people have an older view of it.

Gavron: In a way, I wish there was a new word for this generation. I think it would be really good for young people if there was a word that wasn't mired with the old associations. That would help people.

Q: Another issue is the pay disparity between male and female filmmakers. How frustrating is it to not have enough voices and not get treated the same?

Gavron: I don't know why; well, I sort of have some theories why the film industries have lagged behind other industries, even the armed forces and banking. It's madness. It is between 1 and 10 percent, sometimes 12, and usually closer to 1 percent of films made by women, which means you sometimes you have 99 percent of films made by men. It kind of seems mad, doesn't it? It's not that men can't make good films about women, because of course they can, but there are less women on the screen than men and film is such an important mirror of our culture.

Geena Davis has been doing all this research, which I think is amazing. Like, people watch crowd scenes, and there are 17, one seven, percent men, and you don't even notice it. I met this woman at Google who helped develop the program to count the people in the crowd, and it counted 17 percent. In some situations that's appropriate, but on a general street it's usually half and half, isn't it?

Q: What do you think it takes for a male director to direct well-rounded female characters?

Gavron: The statistics seem to show male directors are drawn to male protagonists, and I'm certainly more drawn to female protagonists, so I get the reverse would be true. It's just about getting enough of us behind the camera to shake things up a bit.

Q: What historical figures would you, specifically, like to direct films about? You've mentioned Marie Curie before.

Gavron: She's an amazing woman. There are a many, many women through history, but not that it has to be a woman in history; I think I'd like to have a contemporary story right now.

Q: What would be your dream project then? Imagine if you had $150 million, studio backing and any star you want.

Gavron: Oh my God. No one has ever offered me that before. It's a bit like Maud, “What would you do with the vote?” “I hadn't really thought of that.” I don't know, I'll have to get back to you on that.

All alone together

Jacob Tremblay and Brie Larson star in "Room." Image courtesy A24.

The superb “Room” is one of those films that wears down viewers emotionally, although it isn't because the film is a proverbial roller coaster that drags audiences through the peaks and valleys. Rather, almost everything in “Room” is coated with despair and dread rooted in the reality its two protagonists live in and the fantasy they created to survive their life. All of that pain is lightened slightly by the film's decision to play the film through the eyes of a 5-year-old boy, who can see the pain around him but can't quite process what it actually means. It doesn't make the experience of watching “Room” any less exhausting, but it does add a hint of wonderment to the proceedings, one in which the fear of the great wide world is contrasted by a childlike curiosity and innocence and, most importantly, love.

The heart of “Room” is the aforementioned 5-year-old boy, Jack (played by Jacob Tremblay), who lives in the titular Room with his Ma (an excellent Brie Larson). Their existence is pretty simple, encompassing some TV time, stories, minor exercises, the occasional birthday celebration, and evening visitations by the mysterious Old Nick (Sean Bridgers). Even though there isn't much to do, Tremblay still seems to enjoy his little life, saying goodnight to all of the inanimate objects around him a la “Goodnight Moon” and losing himself to old episodes of “Dora the Explorer” on a static-filled TV.

His life comes crumbling down once Larson reveals the world extends far beyond the walls of Room. She was kidnapped by Old Nick after track practice when she was 17, and has spent the better part of a decade trapped in a small shack in Ohio. She tells her son they must escape Room as soon as possible, and Larson hatches an escape plan for her son that forces him to see what exists beyond his world for the first time. It's a scary proposition for the young man, but he pulls off the escape and is reunited with his mother shortly thereafter. The mother and son eventually go to live with Larson's mom (a wicked good Joan Allen) and her new husband (Tom McCamus) as they reintegrate and integrate, respectively, into society.

“Room” is, in essence, a retelling of Plato's “Allegory of the Cave,” in which a person accepts the reality around him even if there is something potentially larger and greater beyond the shadows dancing on the wall of the cave. Using a 5-year-old as the means of telling that story in a modern setting is a pretty clever little twist; a child is much likelier to believe that Room is the only thing that exists beyond possibly the heavens than an adult. It's a story the mother tells to assuage her son's curiosity, and one the child is willing to receive because he doesn't need any further proof or justification.

The lie, along with the stories Larson tells to sell the lie, is a necessary evil, albeit an evil that hurts Larson every time she recites it. It's unbelievable how much misery she must be in (a sadness Larson’s performance hints at without revealing fully); being trapped in Room every day next to a child she loves intensely yet is a reminder of the childhood she effectively lost to Old Nick has to be pure torture. The tragedy only increases once she leaves and finds it impossible to adjust to life outside Room with any sense of ease; the world moved on without her over the last seven years, as evidenced by the posters of bands like The White Stripes still filling her bedroom wall. A parent can do his or her best to hide that pain, but even a child can pick up on inklings of his or her parent's sadness, and that sadness permeates throughout the film. That gloom comes from both the dreams Larson has of leaving Room and the realities she and her son face after doing so, with the happy and easy ending she imagined spoiled by mounting bills and interlopers who have little understanding of her trauma.

Yet So much of “Room” is coated in misery the joyous moments with few or no strings attached are even brighter. Every moment of Larson doting on Tremblay is a joy – the son devoted to his mother, the mother finding solace in the one good thing that came from her torture – as is a particular moment late in the film in which Tremblay plays with a dog for the first time. That moment (which is brilliant and totally unfair for people who don't want to cry) reinforces “Room's” main thesis; even amid the greys and blacks presented by life, there's always space for unbridled joy.

Rating: Four and a half out of Five Stars

Click here to see the trailer.

Rating: R

Run time: 118 minutes

Genre: Drama

Ask Away

Target audience: Anyone who read the book “Room” and people who have difficulty deciphering happiness from tragedy.

Take the whole family?: Technically the “R” rating is undeserved based on the content of the film, but the vibe is very 17-plus. Hire a babysitter if you want to see it in theaters.

Theater or Netflix?: Another one of those where the theater is worth it if you can find it, if only to watch Brie Larson's performance.

Brie Larson, Oscar nominee?: If the universe is fair and just she at least receives a nomination. Her performance is, in the truest sense of the word, awesome, loaded with verve and anger and sadness and happiness that shine through at any given moment. She plays the part of a young mother brilliantly, yet is equably believable when regresses to a teenage state upon returning home. Hopefully the film at least serves as an official launching path for Larson's career as a leading actress; she's deserved it for a rather long time now.

Watch this as well?: Besides reading Plato's “Allegory of the Cave,” the original “Oldboy” also features a man trapped in a room by a mysterious being for a number of years. “Oldboy” much more revenge focused, but the general idea is the same.

One shot is not enough

Laia Costa in a scene from "Victoria." Image courtesy Adopt Films.

It's silly to bemoan a filmmaker using a gimmick to sell his or her movie considering how much of the medium's history is rooted in gimmickry as a sales tactic; talking pictures blew people's minds just 90 years ago. It is fair, however, to call out a filmmaker for using a trick poorly, as director Sebastian Schipper does in “Victoria.” His selling point is a two-hour plus film using a continuous shot – everything was recorded in one take – which sounds like an interesting idea, but results in an overlong, slow film that lacks tension.

“Victoria” opens with the sound of techno music at an unremarkable club in Berlin; the lights flash at a seizure-inducing pace as the dancers celebrate their youth (carpe diem  is one of the film’s themes). Alone on the dance floor is the titular Victoria (Laia Costa, offering the film's best performance), a lonely Spanish girl new to the city and with no one else to party with as the night becomes either way too late or far too early. Waiting for her as she emerges from the subterranean bar are four men, led by the charming-ish Sonne (Frederick Lau), who are a little impish, the kind of guys who enjoy committing a friendly misdemeanor, but are seemingly harmless enough. Lau and his friends (played by Franz Rogowski, Burak Yigit and Max Mauff) are celebrating Mauff's birthday, and Costa tags along for a spell before Lau escorts her to work so she can acquire somewhere around 40 winks before her bakery shift starts. They're enjoying their alone time only to be interrupted when the other three arrive and persuade Costa to join them on what they think is a quick assignment, a little jaunt before returning back to the bakery. That's the plan anyway, at least until gangster Andi (André Hennicke) gives them guns, drugs and instructions on how to pull off a two-minute bank robbery to steal 50,000 euros so Rogowski's character can pay back a debt. Shenanigans involving stolen cars, stolen loot, guns, cops, a baby, and tragedy ensue.

I can’t imagine how big of a pain in the butt it was to shoot “Victoria” in one take – it can take a week, if not longer, to shoot a 10-minute sequence depending on the director – and credit goes to Schipper for giving it the old college try. Also, it is easy to see the logic behind using the continuous shot in this type of movie; the effect is a bit dizzying, reflecting the characters' alcohol- and drug-fueled states and the confusion of the situation they've been thrust into. And, admittedly, using a one-shot tactic on the bank robbery alone could have worked famously; bank robbery scenes are always intense given the nature of the act.

All of that is a gentle way of saying it doesn't work in “Victoria.” The movie is far, far too long to justify the single take, and it results in a sizable amount of time devoted to what should be a quick getting-to-know-you sequence. That sequence, the least interesting part of the film, evolves into an interminable slog that takes precious time away from the robbery. “Victoria” isn't necessarily about the bank robbery – crime films tend to emphasize the proverbial morning after the theft – but it shouldn’t be elided over as much as it is here. Using the extreme long take also requires the film to reduce the amount of space it feels in real life, clustering its locations into one small part of Berlin. In other words, the bank that's robbed is within spitting distance of the club, the bakery, and the place where the unwilling criminals meet with Hennicke.

Strip away the gimmick though and what remains is a mediocre crime flick indebted to films like “After Hours” and “The Asphalt Jungle.” “Victoria” doesn't have much to add to the genre – anyone who has ever seen such a film knows they rarely feature a happy ending – and a crime boss recruiting novice criminals to execute a bank robbery with less than five minutes of prep time is a preposterously stupid concept. The issue harkens back to that one-shot trick, reinforcing that maybe, perhaps, it is better to offer some editing to iron out such obvious and onerous wrinkles.

Review: Two and a half out of Five Stars

Click here to see the trailer.

Rating: NR

Run time: 138 minutes

Genre: Crime

Ask Away

Target audience: Viewers down for a gimmick film and anyone into European art house cinema.

Take the whole family?: I'll go with no for this one; it gets wicked bloody toward the end.

Theater or Netflix?: Another one of those Netflix films if you really want to see it.

How effective is a one-shot take?: It can set the mood for an entire film if it's done right, as is the case with “Touch of Evil,” or place the viewer in a lull to set up a good shock as is the case with the infamous tricycle scene from “The Shining.” A good long take can even put the viewer in a character's shoes, a good example being the tracking shot in “Goodfellas” through the Copacabana.

                       From "Touch of Evil." As with the rest of the film, nothing is as it seems.

Watch this instead?: Director Sebastian Schipper acted in another German crime film that takes a unique approach to its storytelling, the terrific “Run Lola Run.” Also worth seeking out is the 1955 classic French crime thriller “Rififi,” which has one of the best burglary scenes ever filmed, along with the inspiration for one of Quentin Tarantino's most infamous shots.

Stuck between a rock and a hard place

Tom Hanks in a scene from "Bridge of Spies." Image courtesy DreamWorks Pictures.

“Bridge of Spies” is a film directed by Steven Spielberg, which means it's guaranteed to be at least a good film (he’s the Meryl Streep of directing; even his lesser work is well made). It stars Tom Hanks, which grants it a vital everyman touch. It takes place during the Cold War era, which gives it a level of import and the opportunity to explain what that entailed to people who didn't live through it. (Something that will undoubtedly occur for the post 9/11 generation within the next two decades.) It's also co-written by the Coen brothers, which means surprisingly very little when the two men aren't behind the camera.

So what does one get when all the ingredients above are combined? A perfectly fine but not overly inspired movie, one whose second half is infinitely more engaging than the heavily and obnoxiously didactic front half.

One of the fun things about “Bridge of Spies” is the title is literal, an event the film builds up to throughout two-plus hours of negotiating and Hanks battling a wicked case of the sniffles. Before all of that happens though, Hanks is just simple insurance attorney James Donovan, a pretty steady family man dragged into Cold War politics when he's forced to defend accused/actual Soviet spy Rudolf Abel (Mark Rylance). The trial is a farce – the court of public opinion convicts Rylance before he sets foot in a courtroom – although Hanks defends his client all the way to the Supreme Court, much to the chagrin of his wife (Amy Ryan, given precious little to do beyond pouting and fretting).

The circumstances change greatly though after American pilot Francis Powers (Austin Stowell) is captured by the Soviets during a mission, offering an opportunity to negotiate a trade of spies between the two powers. Hanks is recruited by the government to negotiate the arrangement Berlin, but the wicket gets even stickier when American student Frederic Pryor (Will Rogers) is arrested and imprisoned by German forces in East Berlin just after the wall is erected. Hanks, being the good guy that he is, adds Pryor to the deal – he goes for the two-for-one special – and has to navigate egos, subterfuge and international politics to bring two young men back to their home country and the apple pies waiting for them.

“Bridge of Spies” isn't quite that jingoistic, but it very much embraces the virtues of the country, especially in comparison to how the Soviets and Germans treat the American prisoners. Even if the trial is a proverbial horse-and-pony show, Rylance still has a very, very good attorney defending him, more than either Rogers and Stowell could offer. Americans simply don't treat their enemy combatants that poorly, at least according to the overly optimistic logic tossed out in the film. It makes for a rather strange discord though when “Bridge of Spies” moralizes about how susceptible the country is to falling into fear and paranoia, and how easy it is to drop the pretenses of civility and righteousness when it's convenient.

Then again, the filmmakers ensure the United States' side of the conflict has at least one good man like Hanks' Donovan around to ensure the values the nations was founded on remain in place and are defended even when the prevailing atmosphere is against them. It's why the role of Jim Donovan is the ultimate Tom Hanks; one of the most  likable actors in the history of film is the moral compass in a during a time and atmosphere that desperately needs one. Jim Donovan is an everyman, and Tom Hanks is the everyman's everyman.

Hanks keeps his moral fortitude through the first half – in essence a mediocre history lesson – that steps up to a much more intense and far more interesting second half filled with intrigue. The danger in “Bridge of Spies” starts once Hanks heads to foreign soil and the man becomes completely out of his element. Spielberg does a tremendous job reinforcing how isolated Hanks is, and thus drags the audience into the quagmire along with him: Every corner in East Berlin has its own dangers, every politician and lawyer has agenda, and nobody can really protect Hanks through all of this.

A film more like the second half of “Bridge of Spies” would easily place among the best of the year, but the filmmakers spend so much time shaking their collective finger at American paranoia – both in 1950s and modern times via the transitive property – via the benefits of hindsight that it drags down the final product. “Bridge of Spies” is in effect two films, and it doesn't spend nearly enough time on the more interesting one.

Review: Four out of Five Stars

Click here to see the trailer.

Rating: PG-13

Run time: 142 minutes

Genre: Drama

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Target audience: Cold War enthusiasts and people who want to see Tom Hanks do Tom Hanks things.

Take the whole family?: Aside from a hint of naughty language, there isn't anything to make this inappropriate for anyone younger than 11 except a lack of interest.

Theater or Netflix?: Matinee screening if only to check out the Oscar buzz.

Academy Award odds?: Pick your tracking site and they all have “Bridge of Spies” landing a slew of nominations for Best Picture, Best Director, Best Original Screenplay, Best Cinematography and other technical nominations. Tom Hanks probably won't get one for Best Actor – that field is wicked deep – but Mark Rylance is on track to get a well deserved placement on the Best Supporting Actor list.

Watch this as well?: This is a film a recommend a lot, but “The Iron Giant” is an engaging reflection on the Cold War era (including the old “Duck and Cover” cartoon), and it has a giant robot to boot. Also worth a look is the original “The Manchurian Candidate,” featuring a killer performance from Jessica Fletcher herself, Angela Lansbury.

Every love story is a ghost story

Tom Hiddleston and Mia Wasikowska in "Crimson Peak." Image courtesy Universal Pictures

“Crimson Peak” is not a horror film. “Crimson Peak” is not meant to scare or frighten it viewers despite the ghosts and shocks and the titular decrepit mansion. Rather, it's a film for the young romantic at heart, a darker, bloodier version of a Jane Austen novel that emphasizes how easy it is to be tricked into love. The fact that it doubles as a wonderful little ghost story is just icing on the proverbial cake.

As Mia Wasikowska's character Edith states in voiceover when the film opens, ghosts are real, and she's seen them since her mother's spirit offered a nasty little omen when Edith was 10 years old. Fast forward more than a decade to Buffalo, New York, circa 1901, and the woman is an aspiring, if unsuccessful, novelist residing with her self-made industrialist father (Jim Beaver) and courted coyly by local physician Alan McMichael (Charlie Hunnam).

And then Tom Hiddleston enters the picture as Baron Thomas Sharpe, whose monetary value in life is that tile title, his homestead, Allerdale Hall, in England, and a dream of building a machine to unearth the red clay bubbling beneath his estate. He's in Buffalo to request money for the steam-powered digger, but the request becomes secondary once he begins to woo Wasikowska through flattery and his charming demeanor. A violent family tragedy changes the tone of the relationship as the two are wed and Wasikowska joins Hiddleston at his mansion, which he shares with his rather dour and strange sister Lucille (a terrifyingly icy Jessica Chastain). There is something a bit off about the whole affair though, and Wasikowska develops a strange ailment as her suspicions about the place – known as Crimson Peak to the locals – and her new family grow.

The ghosts, almost always female in nature, enter the film en force during this stage of the action, drifting and shambling through “Crimson Peak” with intensity and strangeness. These entities are awful figures, conjured and filmed in such a way to evoke minor terrors and trembles from the audience with their raspy voices and skeletal frames covered in a sickening red clay. They are scary figures, but, strangely enough, the ghosts are not designed to scare the audience; this is a Guillermo del Toro film, after all, and the man rarely uses the supernatural in a malevolent fashion, Like the ghosts in “The Devil's Backbone” and fantastical creatures in “Pan's Labyrinth,” “Crimson Peak's” phantasms are benevolent beings that offer guidance to the living. There is horror to be found in the spirits in “Crimson Peak,” but the film uses those specters as a means of expressing love, a metaphor for memories and feelings: as the saying goes, every love story is a ghost story.

“Crimson Peak” is about the virginal love a young woman finds with a gentleman suitor in traditional Gothic literature. Hiddleston – whose off-kilter and dandified good looks fit the role gorgeously – is in effect a less gruff Mr. Darcy, and the audience nods in approval when the film's dapper and charming leading man lures the innocent Wasikowska into his web. At least until the filmmakers reveal how toothless he is when compared to the women who orbit his existence. Much of the action in “Crimson Peak” is started and carried trough by women, whether its the ghosts, Wasikowska investigating the decaying remains of Allerdale Hall or Chastain engaging in chilling, perturbing acts of weirdness and quiet rage. They're mirror images of each other, Wasikowska the virginal naif dreamer still treated as a child and Chastain the hardened sexual pragmatist corrupted by a rather strange childhood. They battle for Hiddleston's affection, to see which of them can capture and retain the heart of the most important man in their respective lives; Hiddleston is the Olive Oyl to Wasikowska's Popeye and Chastain's Bluto.

It's a nice little and subtle inversion of the traditional trope of having men wrestle for the love of a damsel in physical or economical distress, as well as a clear indication del Toro and frequent collaborator Matthew Robbins have a little more on their minds than a few simple scares. For all the silliness that occurs – a few scenes play out much more humorously and with more camp than del Toro and Robbins anticipated – and a really obvious twist, “Crimson Peak” continually plays with what the audience thinks should occur, setting up obvious scenarios only to take the path less traveled. It won't scare the pants off an audience, but “Crimson Peak” is smart, and it will make viewers swoon a bit for the innocence of first love spite of themselves.

Review: Four out of Five Stars

Click here to see the trailer.

Rating: R

Run time: 119 minutes

Genre: Drama

Ask Away

Target audience: Guillermo del Toro fans and anyone down for a strange romantic tale.

Take the whole family?: Nope.

Theater or Netflix?: Makes for a fun theater trip, just to hear the audience squirm a bit during the more graphic moments.

Does the film capture the Gothic aesthetic?: Most definitely. “Crimson Peak” is absolutely stunning visually, especially once the action shifts to Allerdale Hall. The manor is erected as a home on the verge of falling apart completely, with red ooze seeping through the walls and up from the floors and white snow contrasting the house's bloodiness. One thing del Toro has always done well is set up the right ambiance for his films, and he does so brilliantly with the design of Allerdale Hall and the trinkets and dolls on the inside; for a film that is not a horror flick, the vibe is perpetually eerie.

Watch this as well?: “The Fall of the House of Usher” by Edgar Allan Poe works as an excellent, short and literary companion piece. In terms of film, check out Werner Herzog's adaptation of “Nosferatu”; the vampire in his version is a lonely, cursed romantic figure searching for an end to his misery.