Midsommar: NZIFF Review

Midsommar: NZIFF Review

Director Ari Aster's next project after Hereditary is a descent into a psychological freefall, rather than an out-and-out freakout fest.

The ever wonderful Florence Pugh stars as Dani and Jack Reynor stars as Christian, her feckless boyfriend. When something happens to Dani (an event best left unspoiled, thanks to the pre-titles play out of dread), the pair try to get back on track.

Invited by Christian to tag along to a trip to a commune in Sweden where he and a handful of mates are heading for research, Dani finds her uncertainty in their relationship escalating.

It's exacerbated by the pagan rituals and lifestyle of those at the Swedish midsummer festival in Hälsingland .... but there's more going on than any of them realise.

If Hereditary was psychological terror, then Midsommar is the break-up album.

A sprawling, slow-moving descent that's in no rush to unveil its hand, the film's commitment to unsettling can be interpreted in many ways.

Whether it's a take on Americans crashing European ways of life and disrupting cultural matters, or simply a feeling of off-kilter unusual behaviours, Midsommar's desire to unnerve is there from the start - and carefully telegraphed.

Artfully executed by Aster, and beautifully choreographed by DP Pawel Pogorzelski, and blessed with a turn of frailty and subtlety by Pugh as she negotiates extreme trauma, Midsommar is more about the horrors of human behaviours than the appearance of the supernatural and what it can entail.

There are lashings of humour throughout, but as the crescendo of the creepy builds, there's more a sense of uncertainty rippling through this Wicker Man / League of Gentlemen hybrid folk horror and bucolic beastliness.

The horror comes in the consequences, and the reality of what's next - and while the conclusion may infuriate some and feel derivative to others, what Aster's done is essentially cycle back to the beginning's themes.

Midsommar is less a dream, but even less a nightmare - it's a waking breathing feeling of insomnia, and it's stiflingly good because of it.

The Amazing Johnathan Documentary: NZIFF Review

The Amazing Johnathan Documentary: NZIFF Review

It's hard to consider what should be said about The Amazing Johnathan Documentary, given that most of the twists and turns of director Ben Berman's doco are best experienced unspoiled.

Suffice to say this meta-piece looks at what next for The Amazing Johnathan, a comedy magic act from the US aka Johnathan Szeles after he's diagnosed with a fatal heart condition and given one year to live.

Three years later, Szeles is still around and contemplating a return to the scene....

The Amazing Johnathan Documentary is a perplexing twisty doco that keeps one-upping itself when it comes to reveals.

At its heart, it's really about two men who are trying to find their way through something - Szeles for his own mortality and Berman for what kind of doco maker he wants to be.

But for the audience, it's also about finding their way through something because every time you think you may know what's coming, you're wrongfooted. Berman's crafted something that like a magic trick, has you wondering what's next and what the truth and the illusion ultimately is.

The meta touches work nicely, and the construction of this riddle is nicely crafted - but if you're expecting to emerge from The Amazing Johnathan Documentary with answers all neatly put in place, you may want to reassess your expectations.

Sorry We Missed You: NZIFF Review

Sorry We Missed You: NZIFF Review

Ken Loach's latest piece of socially shocking miserabilism in the UK is a savage indictment of how the everyday family is being beaten down by those abusing the system.

And yet, in among the blood-boiling moments of Sorry We Missed You, Loach displays elements of everyday love and compassion along with humour that helps you along the 100 minutes of what plays out.

Kris Hitchen plays Rikki, the head of a family who is scrabbling day to day to make ends meet. Taking the chance to become a franchisee of a delivery company, Rikki finds himself part of a contract that serves the masters better than it does the servants.

Coupled with the fact his wife Abby (Debbie Honeywood) is working 14 hours a day as a carer, the pair is left hardly any time for their two children.

Stretched as thinly as it will go, something is likely to snap in Rikki and Abby's lives...

Clothed in savage condemnation of the zero hours' slavery, Loach's film promotes a growing sense of depression, as well as a sense of latent activism in the audience.

But it's the realism here, and the intimate relatability that gives Loach his power in this film - a growing sense of desperation from both Hitchen and Honeywood creates an aching, gnawing sense of disillusionment as events threaten to swallow them up.

There's nothing here that's played for easy drama, merely a growing sense of a maelstrom about to encompass the everyday family. And because of that it's even more horrifying to behold.

There's an anger in Sorry We Missed You, but Loach is restrained enough a director to realise that simply playing out events will get the required results in the audience. It's horrifically affective and affecting - ultimately, Sorry We Missed You is one social drama not ignore - both on screen and off it.

Maiden: NZIFF Review

Maiden: NZIFF Review

Director Alex Holmes' crowd-pleasing tale of the battle of the sexes and the triumph of women breaking through in the traditional male sport of the sailing is a triumph from beginning to end - even if it doesn't break the mould in terms of presenting a documentary.

Using archival footage from the Whitbread Round the World Race from the 1989-1990 race, Holmes threads together a tale of how Tracy Edwards' determination changed the face of the race, as well as the perception of a generation.

In the 80s, racing was the sole guardianship of men; but Edwards had a fire for being a sailor, even if the media and the sport had other thoughts. Initially starting off in a kitchen (the sexism outrage is palpable throughout), Edwards soon realised the only way to be taken seriously was to get her own crew and her own ship.

But even though every step of the way was problematic for Edwards, Holmes threads together a stirring tale that creates a crescendo of inspiration that soon becomes a tidal wave of empowerment.

Whether it's using the dry wit of those interviewed or footage where various sexist commentators are laid bare, Holmes' tale never stops short of thrilling. When stripped down to its bones, Maiden is the classic sporting tale of the underdog, but what it delivers more of, is a rousing call for change at the time, and a celebration of what Edwards and her crew managed.

However, Maiden is never preachy, and it wisely shows Edwards in her flaws - but throughout the disasters, it's the determination which shines through. Don't be surprised if you leave Maiden feeling inspired to make a change - or embarrassed at what we used to be.

Herbs: Songs of Freedom: NZIFF Review

Herbs: Songs of Freedom: NZIFF Review

Much like Tearepa Kahi's Poi E documentary did, Herbs: Songs of Freedom looks to pitch New Zealand of your youth against the socioeconomic backdrop of the reggae freedom fighters, Herbs.

Taking in the politics of the 80s in Bastion Point, against a background of a reforming Herbs, some four decades after they began, Kahi's doco has geniality written through as much as it has L&P coursing through its veins.

That is to say, initially, this is a nostalgia blast in some ways, a film that makes you remember those glorious never-ending summers and sets out an OST to your youth that hits you where it should.

However, more than just context,  some flashy graphics (a neon coloured tape illustration is just one of the wonderful images that Kahi drops on to the screen) and some gorgeously shot images from Auckland's Harbour Bridge, is what's needed for Herbs: Songs of Freedom.

And for a large part, the doco fulfills that remit, capturing the intimate moments of the band then and now coming back together, seizing on moments from within the rehearsal hall and detailing how the band came to prominence when Stevie Wonder wouldn't play Western Springs in the 70s as a deluge blew in.

Yet, despite the vim and vigour of the start of the piece, the doco frustratingly fails to capture some of the more interesting narrative threads available. Hints of a bust up and some sour grapes that befell members of the band are alluded to, and not expanded upon. (Though it must be said that Kahi teases details out of various members, chiefly Dilworth Karaka, as if this is some great musical stoush the whole world already knew of.)

The final 30 minutes of the film drift into discord as well, turning the proceedings into Auckland's reunion concert and providing some incredible musical moments, but leaving you feeling like the doco's run out of things to say, but equally leaving you feeling extremely grateful for the music, and for the timelessness of the performers.

Ultimately, Herbs: Songs of Freedom does much to capture the zeitgeist of 80s New Zealand and once again demonstrates Kahi's heartland approach is a voice much needed in the film-making community.

But frustratingly the doco's overall feeling is one of could have been, and one which lacks the full coherence demonstrated by Poi E: The Story of Our Song.

That said it is one which will leave you tapping your toes in the aisle for two thirds of its generous heart.

Mystify: Michael Hutchence:NZIFF Review

Mystify: Michael Hutchence:NZIFF Review

Director Richard Lowenstein pulls together a relatively intimate portrait of the famed INXS rock icon, in a documentary that soars for the majority of its time before crashing into more sombre territory in its final 30 minutes.

Eschewing talking heads and having them provide soundbites over footage from the archives, concert moments and Hutchence himself gives the feel of a family album being narrated by mates and family around a good bottle of wine.

But Lowenstein's also smart enough to pepper the piece with moments of Hutchence himself, allowing the man's clear charisma to shine forth and illuminate the screen.

Vignettes from Kylie Minogue about their relationship and earlier lovers help build a portrait of a man lost in the world at some point - but also humanise Hutchence beyond the rock icon label that he's gained since his death at 37.

In some ways, Mystify: Michael Hutchence is a relatively formulaic doco presented in an albeit unusual way.

There's no denying the music still stands strong, and Lowenstein wisely uses only a smattering of the live footage to boost the appeal of the Aussie.

But the film hits a screeching halt and almost derails as it reveals the change in Hutchence after a head injury. It appears to echo Michael himself in that the tone shifts awkwardly from more hedonistic fare to an almost funereal pace that wonders dangerously close into mawkish territory.

And there's an odd feeling towards the end that veers dangerously into hagiography with various drugs issues mentioned, albeit fleetingly, and hinted at rather than doing anything to darken the appeal of Michael Hutchence.

There's a sense of being too close to the subject - but it's a double-edged sword, as without the closeness, there wouldn't have been the abundance of footage to present something compelling.

All in all, Mystify: Michael Hutchence is a fine tribute to the star, and one that explains the appeal to all, rather than just fans.

Fast & Furious: Hobbs & Shaw: Film Review

Fast & Furious: Hobbs & Shaw: Film Review

Cast: Dwayne Johnson, Jason statham, Idris Elba, Vanessa Kirby, Ryan Reynolds
Director: David Leitch

Fast and Furious: Hobbs and Shaw is an assault on your cinematic senses.

A highly stylised, intensely choreographed piece of leave-your-brain-at-the-door cinema going, this beat-em-up bloodless bromance is all about hits to the head rather than massaging the brain.

In this latest, Johnson's Hobbs and Statham's Shaw are forced to set differences aside (a little) to track down rogue MI6 agent Hattie (Kirby, keeping up with the boys), who's apparently stolen a bio-weapon that can destroy the world. 

But hot on their heels is cyborg-powered Brixton (Elba)...

Fast & Furious: Hobbs & Shaw is pure blockbuster action, that cares not for sense or sensibility.

Fight sequences have replaced the Fast and Furious’ trademark action sequences and while initially it’s welcome, the non-stop barrage of beat downs becomes tedious.

In between it all, Statham and The Rock’s continual quarreling fills the time, as these frenemies are forced to face up to the franchise’s enforced code of family, shoehorned in as it is.

It’s OTT to the point of ridiculous at times, but it’s the frisson between the duo that just keeps this action movie alive for its bloated run time. It's best not to think things like how Johnson's character can take a full bottle to the face, and emerge without a scratch at all - it's that kind of film, and oddly that kind of thing - like with the CGI - that can take you out of the goings on.

Kudos must also go to Vanessa Kirby who proves she can kick ass with the best of them and who uses her eyes to convey much more depth than either of the leads can. And Elba proves a welcome addition to the series, layering his Brixton with considerable swagger as the bad guy.

All in all though, Fast & Furious: Hobbs & Shaw has little to no stakes, and really doesn't care about any kind of reality in the hyper stylish edges. It's instantly forgettable fare, and probably not one of the franchise's best - setting up a spinoff universe induces eye rolls, but what is truly missing from Fast & Furious: Hobbs & Shaw is the heart that imbues a lot of the original franchise.