Pride
Mathew Warchus’ 2014 film tells the story of a group of LGBT activists in London fundraising for the National Union of Mineworkers in 1984.
The film has a number of interesting quirks, the main one being the lack of any real three dimensional characters. Characters are present merely to further the plot and contextualise themes. There seems to be no main protagonist, nor any real antagonist unless you count Margaret Thatcher or society in general. Many of those depicted in the film are still alive so this might have been a consideration but even the fictional elements lack any follow through.
There is an attempt to create a visual motif of the Welsh countryside but this is never juxtaposed with any similar urban motif nor do they attempt to look at the environmental impact of the mines, that the men of the village work in, upon this landscape. Any violence, capitulation, aggression is largely left off screen and mentioned in passing rather than being tackled head on. Even when it is tackled the moment seems secondary, there merely because it is expected, rather than being used to illustrate the reality of these characters’ lives.
The film often comes across as nothing more than a feature length episode of ‘Queer Eye for the Straight Guy’.
Some scenes grate (particularly the Casablanca inspired sing along in the community centre) but there are some nice touches. A simple scene where two characters chat whilst making sandwiches leave the fact that the sandwiches have no filling, are just bread and butter, unsaid. The careful cutting of them into triangles adds poignancy to the moment and says much more about the sacrifices the miners have made than any depiction of the picket line would. There’s a similar simplicity to a scene where Andrew Scott’s character waves goodbye to his friends before quietly returning to washing obscene graffiti from his shop window, all the time smiling at the last joke shared before their departure. The washing of the window is routine, an everyday occurrence. Here we see the Director at his most confident, letting the images do the talking.
Stop at Nothing: The Lance Armstrong Story
Alex Holmes’ 2014 documentary is one of the Irish films on the list.
This is a straight forward documentary about the American cyclist and drug cheat, told through talking heads and footage from various sources including private video tapes, television programmes and court recordings.
Holmes manages to structure the narrative in such a way that it falls into five acts, like a classic Shakespearean tragedy. Except the tragic character’s hamartia doesn’t exist. Armstrong doesn’t have a single flaw. He isn’t a ‘good guy brought low by a character fault. He’s simply a villain.
Holmes manages to find a hero to stand up to Armstrong in the form of Betsie Andrew. In a world where men act like spoilt teenage boys, boys that like to bully and intimidate women, it’s appropriate that the strongest voice to emerge from the film is Betsie’s.
The world depicted by Holmes is a world of corruption, subterfuge and greed. A world where a possible moment of redemption is undermined by a need for self-promotion.
There is no character arc here, no change occurs. Instead Armstrong’s flaws, that we see at the start of the film, are merely confirmed by the end.
Les Miserables
One of the most popular musicals of all time was brought to the screen by Tom Hooper in 2012. Hooper is a favourite of the text committee, his 2010 film, The King’s Speech, having remained on the list for years.
Les Miserables is shot with an extra dash of grit and realism, an extra touch of flag waving hysteria and more than a touch of hyperbolic emotive signing.
Dark coloured sets are matched with dark coloured CGI to match the darkness that comes out of Russel Crowe’s throat.
The bulk of the film is set in the June Rebellion of 1832 in Paris, before this we see the rise of various characters from the lowest of positions to ones of wealth and influence. And, despite what the images may try to trick us into believing, this is what the film is about; rising above the slums and living a life of wealth and privilege. The final moments reinforce this hypocrisy as we see the lowest members of the cast refused entrance to a celebratory party by those newly wealthy. The symbol of this transition dies in the film’s final moments to finally sever any connection between the haves and have nots.
CinÉireann / May 2018 15
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