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Just over a week ago I was marvelling at the BAFTA nominations for Outstanding Debut by a British Writer, Director or Producer, and it slightly pained me that I hadn’t even heard of one of the five nominees. All I knew about Black Pond was the brief summary I wrote up when it had a small release back in February. What kind of film blogger am I?! Filled with existential crisis I was pleased to discover that my local independent cinema, The Tricycle, was having a screening of Black Pond with a Q&A afterwards, a screening which I dutifully attended…

Black Pond is the story of a dysfunctional family; one which is accused of murder after a man comes round for dinner and dies at their table. The film’s conclusion, the death of the man who came to dinner, is made clear at the start and the remainder of the film is split into three separate threads. One thread deals with the events that lead up to his death, a second consists of interviews with the family years later and the third is made up of therapy sessions between another guest at that dinner, Tim Tanaka (as played by co-writer/director Will Sharpe), and psychotherapist Dr Eric Sacks (Simon Amstell in his film debut). The three threads tie together well, each offering a different perspective on the story and each with their only particular style.

By letting the audience in on what could have been a shock ending, writer/director duo Will Sharpe and Tom Kingsley have taken the emphasis away from the surreal plot, and shifted it towards the bizarre collection of characters. This is a situation I always prefer, but one which makes discussing the film a little trickier. Each member of the family, and their guests, come across as wonderfully flawed individuals. There are no weak links in the cast and this is a true ensemble piece. If anyone were to steal the limelight is would be the father Tom (Chris Langham making a long-awaited return to acting), a man who seems to be wading through life; trying to stop his wife eating bananas too late in the day, singing to himself while on the toilet and happy to bring back men from the park for a cup of tea, which is how the whole business got started.

Shot for a mere £25,000*, Black Pond is a testament to independent filmmaking and simply getting your film made whether you have the support of a funding body or not, sorry BFI. While other low-budget films may struggle to hide the tell-tale signs in their aesthetic, Black Pond looks as good as a production with significantly more money behind it. It was not a case of simply getting the film shot, care had clearly been taken in its composition as the stills above will testify.

Enough rambling about character and direction, what really matters is if the film was enjoyable and made some kind of emotion happen deep within me. Thankfully Black Pond more than fulfilled these needs. Throughout the film I was laughing loudly and, unlike during some comedies, it felt like the entire audience was joining in. The source of humour ranged from the surreal nature of what was happening on-screen to the mundane conversations between family members. The jokes were for the most part quite subtle, Amstell’s psychotherapist providing the broader humour, but were always effective whether they were an expression on Langham’s face or Amstell hitting his glass with a pen.

All things considered Black Pond is an impressive feature debut and a great film in its own right. Equally moving, funny, and deeply surreal, Black Pond is almost poetic without ever alienating its audience. I haven’t laughed so much in the cinema for a long time and once again I find myself excited about the future of British cinema. In honour of Black Pond‘s spirit and achievement I am finally introducing a star rating to Mild Concern, and giving this fantastic debut our top honour. 5 Stars = Absolute Amazement.

Black Pond is currently touring the UK with Chris Langham in tow and is worth the effort if it passes near you (tour dates can be found here). If you miss there will hopefully be a DVD release soon which we will bore you about nearer the time. For now enjoy the trailer:

*Avatar cost 9480 times as much to make and is a terrible film. Go figure.

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In North London in 2003 Joyce Vincent died alone in her bedsit while watching television and wrapping Christmas presents. It was three years before her body was discovered, with the television still on and Joyce having “melted” into the floor. In those three years no one had raised the alarm over her disappearance, no one had come looking for her and she had seemingly managed to die completely unnoticed. Dreams of a Life tries to piece together who Joyce Vincent was and why her death went unnoticed, using only first person accounts in the form of interview footage alongside re-enactments with Zawe Ashton playing the ill-fated Joyce.

While it is tricky to fault Carol Morley on her technical capabilities in making a documentary, what she has made with Dreams of a Life is an incredibly speculative and gossipy feature that takes such a voyeuristic stance I felt like running away halfway through. Without a narrator or any other method beyond the interview footage for getting across the facts, Morley has given this film a very limited scope. Only people from Joyce’s distant past seem to be willing to be interviewed; we never meet her family or anyone who knew her around the time of her death, so any concept of what her life was like in the time immediately preceding her death is left to the wild speculation of old work colleagues.

While all of Joyce’s old acquaintances, quite rightly, describe her unnoticed death as a terrible thing and something no one should have to go through, they soon descent into gossiping about what she was like when they knew her, what they think might have gone on in her childhood (cue her Father getting some serious accusations thrown at him with no justification) and what her life may have been like leading up to her death. You can’t help but feel that for many the mystery is far more exciting than Joyce’s death is tragic.

The re-enactments are hardly objective either. While Zawe Ashton plays Joyce brilliantly, she is reduced to mostly portraying Joyce as a nostalgic loner, spending most of her time alone, singing to herself. It’s hardly the worst form of slander but certainly doesn’t seem like the best use of the documentary. What the film should focus on is how a woman came to be so isolated that no one noticed her death, not how she might have spent her time alone in her flat.

With all the speculation, gossip and judgement flying around I found myself learning much less about Joyce Vincent and much more about us as human beings. As I walked out of the cinema I was initially expressing how uncomfortable the film had made me but before long I too was speculating about what might have really happened. The message here should be to keep in touch with your loved ones and don’t let a friend fall through the cracks, not that someone is fair game for gossip if they’re dead.

Only one of the interviewees came out favourably in my opinion and that is Martin Lister (below) who was Carol Vincent’s long term-boyfriend years before her death. This was one man with fond memories of the deceased who seemed to genuinely miss her rather than simply wonder what might have happened. His final words in the film still ring in my ears and brought some much needed humanity to proceedings.

Dreams of a Life is an uncomfortable and arguably irresponsible documentary, but I’d be hard pressed to find another film which has made me feel so strongly this past year.

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Another Earth may be a high concept Sci-Fi in its synopsis, a film exploring the idea of there being a second identical Earth within our solar system, but the execution is on a much more low-key, character driven level. And all the better for it.

Driving home from a party, Rhoda (Brit Marling) hears on the radio that a planet identical to our own has been discovered. Squinting into the sky to have a look for herself Rhoda drives at full speed into another car, killing the mother and child inside and leaving the husband in a coma. After four years in prison she returns to civilization as Earth 2 looms ever closer. While trying to apologise to John (William Mapother) whose family she killed, Rhoda instead begins working for him as a cleaner before growing closer to John over time. Meanwhile contact between the two Earths is established and so it is discovered that everyone on our planet also exists up on the alternative planet. Did the alternative version of Rhoda also kill John’s family?

With its low-budget and a focus on the effects of a Sci-Fi worthy event on the characters, rather than on the event itself, makes Another Earth a perfect fit for my Heavy Knitwear Science Fiction* genre so expertly defined by Never Let Me Go. There is no time wasted exploring why Earth has a twin or on the inevitable first exploratory shuttle trip. We only learn about the fantastical event through coverage on the news and gossip between family members. This human touch makes the film all the more believable, debut director Mike Cahill wisely knows that the less you explain something, the less explanations the audience wants.

Speaking of Cahill, he has a beautiful eye. So much of Another Earth could be framed and put up on the wall, its textured look is pleasing to the eye and not bogged down in too much dialogue and what dialogue there is has a natural sound. The film may not feature as much heavy knitwear as Never Let Me Go but it certainly embodies that aesthetic; rough to the touch but comforting all the same.

Brit Marling plays Rhoda with a real complexity, a woman trying to atone for her sins, yet somehow by doing so is committing a selfless act. One act in particular which could be seen as one of love is in fact the cruellest she could have committed… after killing someone’s family of course. Holding up the other end of the film is William Mapother as the man who has lost everything. When we first see Mapother he is a man with nothing left to live for, a man who has given up, and through his relationship with Rhoda we see him rebuilt as a human being. The transition is sweet to watch, but the looming discovery of Rhoda’s true identity leaves the audience fearing for his sanity.

Barring a few pretentious moments courtesy of a self-harming janitor, Another Earth is a flawless film that is tender, tense and beautiful. The film essentially washes over the audience and all you need do is simply sit back and let it in. Arguably the Sci-Fi element could have been explored a little more but for me the human story at the centre was more than enough to fill a film.

Another Earth is a treat for any fan of independent cinema and has more emotional weight than most tent-pole blockbusters (and plenty of Oscar contenders too).

*Heavy Knitwear Science Fiction = Any film with a science fiction plot which focuses more on character than plot, and has characters wearing thick jumpers rather than jumpsuits.

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We recently attended the UK premiere of the upcoming spy-fi action extravaganza, Mission: Impossible – Ghost Protocol and we’ll be frank: it is awesome. Okay, we tell a lie, the premiere that Tom Cruise et al attended was at another cinema the same evening, but that part about the film being awesome? Deadly accurate.

Ghost Protocol sees Ethan Hunt (Cruise) in a dark place. He is no longer with his beloved wife, he is locked up in a brutal Russian prison and the IMF (Impossible Missions Force – duh) has just been framed for exploding the Moscow Kremlin, driving military tensions higher than those during the Cold War. In order to clear the IMF’s name as a terrorist group and the United States as a reckless child with nuclear warheads, Ethan and his co-disavowees must uncover and foil a globally devastating plot.

The Mission: Impossible series of films are a consistent bunch in that they all (well, maybe not M:I 2) feature relevant, complex plots with a heavy dose of sexy and stunning action – which permits the spectator to gloss over and forget their own mundane lives; allowing them to believe in an utterly dangerous and OTT world of spy action.

Director, Brad Bird (The Simpsons, The Incredibles) has gone out of his way to create the meticulous Ghost Protocol, applying his animated past’s pedantic creativity to constantly keep us thoroughly engaged. Of course, he also had help from the methodical writings of André Nemec and Josh Appelbaum: veteran scribes on producer JJ Abrams’ spy-fi show, Alias.

For once, and similar to the original television series, Ghost Protocol does its best to create a tight-knit group of characters rather than focusing entirely on Cruise’s Ethan Hunt, adding a certain level of intimacy that was lacking in the previous films. Albeit man-boobed, Cruise is again on top form, going so far as realizing his own stunts dangling a mile above earth on the Burj Khalifa; Jeremy Renner captures all with his stubborn and secretive Brandt; and Simon Pegg only cements his US mainstream success as nerd Benji, whose British humour creates the majority of the film’s most awesome moments. Aside from the sexiness of Pegg, there is plenty of female beauty to fall back on to as well with the powerfully dominant Paula Patton and assassin seductress Lea Seydoux.

To truly capture the size of Ghost Protocol, see it on the biggest screen you can find as Brad Bird has defied all with his first live action blockbuster. Even when you question the film – like, ‘how does Ethan survive four car crashes when I wimp out over a paper cut?’; the disavowing of Ethan’s marriage is sure to upset many (although, Bird and co work around that excellently *taps nose*); and some of the CGI is just staggeringly bad – you will enjoy the film far too much to even think about those kinds of hair-splitting idiosyncrasies. Plus, Tom Cruise once again fills his obligatory running quota so it can’t be all that bad, right? Right.

*hums Mission: Impossible theme whilst purchasing a ticket to see the film again*

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Before we get onto the film I’d like to tell you a story about how I found the Phoenix Picturehouse in Oxford. Standing in line at the Odeon we noticed that the cinema wasn’t even showing My Week With Marilyn, clearly we were at the wrong Odeon. At this moment two women in the queue abandoned the cinema with one saying to their friend, “there’s still time to catch Marilyn.” Presuming that they meant the film and that they were heading for t’other Odeon we stalked them, darting from tree to lamppost to remain unseen. After a longer than expected stealth walk the two women lead us to a Picturehouse we didn’t realise existed. I love a good Picturehouse and this was no exception: lovely décor and sitting on the back row we had enough leg room to do the can-can had the need arisen. Lovely cinema. ANECDOTE OVER

My Week With Marilyn covers one week of production of the Lawrence Olivier (Kenneth Branagh) directed The Prince and the Showgirl, as the star Marilyn Monroe (Michelle Williams) clashes with her director and finds an ally in 3rd assistant director Colin Clark (Eddie Redmayne). The much-disputed facts come from the memoirs of the real life Colin Clark so the film takes on a very subjective view of events.

As the film begins we are introduced to Clark, an eager young man with a dream of working in the movies, and the family connections to make it happen. Before long he has gotten himself a job on Lawrence Olivier’s new film, a job allowing him to interact with Dame Sybil Thorndike (played with no effort needed by Dame Judi Dench) and flirt with costumer Lucy (Emma Watson at her more convincing). At this point the film is playing as a enjoyable piece of British period cinema, everyone having fun with their roles, particularly Branagh, and the sense of anticipation at the impending arrival of Monroe was shared by characters and audience alike.

When Monroe arrives everyone holds their breath; while Monroe herself could turn heads, Michelle Williams so captures her essence that it is a marvel to behold. I still can’t decide whether or not footage of the real thing was slipped in as there were moments when Williams simply became Monroe. It is more than an imitation, it is an embodiment.

Having said all that Monroe frustrated me at first, her diva-like behaviour as she was constantly late to set seemed unjustifiable and left me far from sympathetic. It was only later as Marilyn and Colin became close that I began to understand this ephemeral character. With filming stressful Marilyn starts to depend on Colin, bunking off with him and refusing to sleep without him by her side. At this point Williams is able to show the severe vulnerability of Marilyn Monroe and brought some much-needed depth to the character. At various points the script tried to veer Marilyn towards cliché but Williams always managed to steer clear.

As essentially the lead, Eddie Redmayne as Colin was not the most dynamic of characters. Rather than do anything of interest Colin only ever seemed to have things happen to him. Not terrible in itself but I feel like Redmayne has a lot more to offer than this film gave him scope for. The only other true stand-out performance alongside Williams was from Kenneth Branagh who was gleefully camped up for his role as the great Sir Lawrence Olivier. Whenever Branagh was on-screen the film was infinitely better.

While a lot of fun My Week With Marilyn doesn’t have a lot going on beneath the surface. As the epilogue tells you at the end, this week was not the most significant for either Olivier or Monroe. Perhaps it was for Colin, but I’d have rather spent more time watching the two legends go head to head and struggle to work together. Besides, how can you ever sympathise with anyone who lets Emma Watson down?

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