Newstalk ZB Review - Jason Bourne, Under The Shadow and 13 Hours: The Secret Soldiers of Benghazi

Newstalk ZB Review - Jason Bourne, Under The Shadow and 13 Hours: The Secret Soldiers of Benghazi

This week on the Newstalk ZB Review with Jack Tame, I take a look at Jason Bourne, Under The Shadow and 13 Hours: The Secret Soldiers of Benghazi

Take a listen below :

http://www.newstalkzb.co.nz/on-air/saturday-morning-with-jack-tame/audio/darren-bevan-jason-bourne-under-the-shadow/

Elle: NZIFF Review

Elle: NZIFF Review

Like some kind of balancing act between bleak darkness and dark humour, Paul Verhoeven’s ELLE walks a singular tightrope through the audience, caring not for the view below as it drops its extraordinary bombs.

A simply stellar Isabelle Huppert stars as Michele the head of a video game company whose life is targeted when she’s viciously sexually assaulted in her home. (A fact that Verhoeven doesn’t shy away from as he instigates the film by unleashing it right at the very beginning.)

But rather than head to the police to report the rape, Michele shockingly shuns the legal avenue (for reasons that become clearer as the film unfurls, just one of Verhoeven's strength as he concocts the cinematic web) for a bath and to simply get on with life. Verhoeven’s use of blood in bubble bath before it’s casually swept to one side by Michele is one of the film’s over-riding stark and shocking images.

With a cold laissez faire approach, Michele casually announces over dinner with some friends that she’s been assaulted; the response from one friend is to ask the waiter to hold the champagne being opened – yep, it’s Verhoeven through and through using the pristine veneer of the French language and attitude to prod and provoke his audience from the get go.

As the story progresses in Elle, you’re better off not knowing what’s due to happen, as part of the devilish delight in the film comes from the gradual teasing of details in this psychological thriller that picks at you like a cinematic scab, daring you to pull it off and delighting in the equal waves of pleasure and pain as you do so.

In this adaptation of Philippe Djian’s 2012 novel “Oh…”,  78 year old provocateur  Paul Verhoeven certainly knows how to press the buttons of those watching, and how to give the whole thing a kind of amoral sheen that’s steeped in both complexity and a twisted veneer.

Huppert helps in large parts too, making Michele a character which it’s hard to get a grip on.

On the one hand, her ordeal implies elicit sympathy for her plight, but on the other, her immediate behaviour post-event sees you unsure of where your allegiances and sympathies should lie. It helps that she’s incredibly commanding from go to woah as this disturbed journey plays out. One character tells her, “You never give anything truly of yourself” and perhaps this is the best summation of the character, thanks to a subtly nuanced turn from Huppert as the shocks and the twisted, yet empowering, scenario plays out.

Ultimately, Elle is one hell of a firecracker of a film - a cinematic amoral powderkeg that's due to explode under the weight of such provocation but whose explosion ends up in the safe hands of Paul Verhoeven. There'll be debate aplenty about what you've seen on the screen, but there'll be no debate about the performance of Isabelle Huppert and the bravura of Verhoeven.

Paterson: NZIFF Review

Paterson: NZIFF Review

Jim Jarmusch's reflective and languid approach suits Adam Driver's rhythms in Paterson, a thematic companion piece to Ken Loach's I, Daniel Blake in its salutations of the common man.

Driver is Paterson, a routine bus driver in the burb of Paterson, who has a daily routine. His watch wakes him around 610am daily, he eats the same breakfast, heads to work at the bus depot and finds time to write poetry before his shift and during. Heading home every day at 6, he corrects a leaning post-box that moves daily, has dinner, walks his shared bulldog Marvin and goes to the local watering hole.

So far, so familiar as Jarmusch's patented loops play out over an 8 day period. But as the days progress, small variations crop up towards the end of the week in Paterson's life - from a girlfriend whose borderline OCD and creative obsession with black and white mean each return home is random to a cataclysmic moment involving his bus.

These are the beats of Paterson, where the ordinary is celebrated and the pace is languid to prosaic. As this ode to the mundane progresses, there are visual tics and tricks that Jarmusch throws into the mix to almost test as if you are paying attention to what's transpiring as the story's more lyrical edges wax and wane with time progressing.

Throwing in a cute scene stealing dog also helps proceedings (when the deliberate pace slows a little too much) as well with Marvin the bulldog (sadly RIP now) proving to be the juxtaposition to Paterson's life in a small way to many, but devastating to the celebration of the mundane. Driver's a relatively blank canvas throughout, with his small intrusions into life being catalogued more by the outre behaviour of others - from the bus depot boss whose life is full of dramas to the dreams of his cup-cake empire dreaming partner, his calmness gives the yin to everyone's extraordinary yang.

Blessed with dry humour and quiet reflections on life, Paterson's simplicity and gorgeousness is in its execution. Its rhythms and wry humour may not be for everyone, but for those who fall for the loops of life and the idiosyncracies within, this slow celebration of the mundanities of it all works wonders.

The Red Turtle: NZIFF Review

The Red Turtle: NZIFF Review

Studio Ghibli's latest sees Dutch British director Michael Dudok de Witt taking on the story of a castaway on an island.

As the film begins, in greying waters and stormy seas, the man is tossed asunder, his boat ripped from him. Clutching onto it, he makes it to shore - albeit on a completely deserted island. Woken the next day by a crab running up his leg, the man plots to escape, using bamboo canes to make a raft.

But his attempts are thwarted by something smashing the raft.... with desperation setting in, the castaway tries again; this time, his nemesis is revealed - a red turtle...

Mixing existentialism, some sumptuous hand drawn and painted animation, facials that look similar to Herge's Tintin executions and all scored to a lushly mournful and occasionally soaring soundtrack, the animation The Red Turtle is wordless and will leave you breathless.

While comedy of the occasion is provided by a clutch of crabs scuttling back and forth in the castaway's world, the soar-away visuals of the castaway's plight, his midnight delusions and what happens may have a propensity to hit where it counts - in the heartstrings.

As the survival tale plays out over its 80 minute duration, there's Laurent Perez del Mar's soundtrack to send you into orchestrated orbit as the simple story unfurls.

It's a meditation of existence and of soul-searching as the castaway adapts to the rhythms of the island and the machinations of survival - but some of this may go over younger minds heads even if they are willing to go with the animated flow.

Ultimately though, The Red Turtle is a film that has deeper meaning, and will be a personal tale to each member of the audience.

It's a rumination on our place in the world, and acceptance thereof; all beautifully encapsulated in a Studio Ghibli  hand-drawn co-production that once again hits the heart strings and engages the brain so much - even when it offers so little by way of execution.

Cameraperson: NZIFF Review

Cameraperson: NZIFF Review

Kirsten Johnson has spent her life working on films.

From working with Michael Moore on Fahrenheit 9/11 to CitizenFour, she's been a documentarian capturing moments of life within and committing them to screen.

In Cameraperson, she's collected and strung together some of the scenes which she claims have most marked her and created a tapestry of lives, with loose threads that appear random but are cleverly interconnected.

From the scenes of getting a newborn baby to breathe in Nigeria to getting a big baby boxer to breathe before exploding after losing a fight in New York, some of the threads are more obvious than others. From scenes of children playing in Bosnia with an axe after they return from ethnic cleansing fears to her own twins playing with the camera, these recoursive snapshots of life offer tempting insights into her world from the past 20 years.

There's no timeline - and nor should there be; but what emerges is a deeply personal timeline of a life lived in the world, and of moments captured for posterity (or perhaps B-roll) that ultimately stand out. Themes of life, death and justice recur, a tacit admission that these themes are universal, but in the end, Cameraperson becomes a study of how to make documentaries and of the form itself.

And yet at times, it feels like the scenes are tantalising glimpses into stories we want to know more of -specifically, the horror of the death of James Byrd Jr in Jasper New York, whose story is told briefly by scenes of attorneys being interviewed.  Admittedly these films already exist, and it's perhaps more a testament to the powerful snippets of choice and admission that these have haunted her that they still feel so raw and numbing.

As the strands pull together and more personal moments are revealed, Cameraperson becomes a real salute to those who work in documentaries, whose cameras are an extension of their body, an extra limb to help them in the world.

Cameraperson itself may be a humble title, and the images within may be humbling, but this prosaic documentary about the documentary form is nothing short of impressive.

Aquarius: NZIFF Review

Aquarius: NZIFF Review

Sometimes, the words tour de force are bandied around performances with gay abandon.

But in the case of Aquarius, Kleber Mendonça Filho's film, Sonia Braga deserves the accolade.

Braga stars as Dona Clara, a music critic in her 60s, who stands resolute in her apartment building when all else have moved out and the developers come to tear it down. Refusing to move on after a full life in the same building, Dona Clara digs in, but not by drawing battle lines - but by simply living her life.

Reflecting on her past and living in her present, Braga's extraordinary class in the role lends the whole piece a sort of innate charm. Broken up into 3 chapters, the story follows its own lyrical beats and pace as it demonstrates a life well loved and friendships well nourished. The enigmatic Sonia Braga is a commanding presence throughout, imbuing the ageing Dona Clara with a sheen of genuine feeling that this is a life well-lived as society has changed around her.

And Filho's film also impresses too.

From the stunning seaside vistas from the Aquarius apartment in Brazil to the casual reveals about health issues or deaths, this is a film that's masterful and takes its time while spinning its observations out. Building on the life of her aunt early on and how she set the trend, it's easy to see Dona Clara's blossoming into a similar role as she fends off demands from her children to sell up and the developers, insisting that she's better leaving.

If there's to be a flaw it's the tail end of the film where the fight with the developers comes to a head with an abruptness that seems crowbarred in. Certainly, the final scene leaves you feeling the story's incomplete and unfinished, which given what you've invested in over the past 2 hours 20 mins is frustrating to say the least.

Aquarius is a lesson in class from Braga - she's the reason to see this film, a reminder that great performances are central to film. It's a pinnacle performance.

Wild: NZIFF Review

Wild: NZIFF Review

From Germany, the film Wild is likely to press a few buttons of cinema-going audiences this festival, but when it all boils down to it, this is your tried and true fable of a girl's coming out party.

Directed by Nicolette Kreibetz and with a strong central performance by Lilith Stangeberg as Ania, a 20 something office worker who doesn't fit in at the office and doesn't fit in in the city. So far, so tried and tested tale of awkwardness.

However, one day, while heading home Ania clamps eyes on a wolf, roaming around. Exhilarated and obsessed, she concocts a plan to domesticate the wolf at home - but is her embracing of the feral all it's cracked up to be....?

Wild may have taboo busting scenes and moments that will polarise and shock some of the audience, but it's kept grounded by Stangeberg's nuanced turn as the plot progresses. Sure, there are allegories here about surviving as a lone wolf in the workplace, or out in society, but this at-times-confronting piece is also hauntingly shot.

Paced nicely, and with an eddying turn by Stangeberg, as well as the wolves, the descent into the feral is made even more compelling by its execution and by Kreibetz's desire to prod and provoke rather than to abuse and antagonise.

Thematically, we've been here a billion times before in terms of sexual awakenings, and a woman's journey to empowerment and of questions about sanity.

With a brooding OST and some quite starkly exciting animal training that's clearly taken place, what transpires is not only thrilling and exhilarating, it's what festival films should do at their very best - provoke reaction, discussion and challenge views long after the lights have gone up.