With articles by Jack Beeching, William Goltz, Vanessa Huang, Christina Jiang, Liv Kessler, Jill Shaughnessy and Syed Zaid Ali. Illustrated by Charlie To
The highs and lows of this year’s BFI London Film Festival.
Living – ★★★★★
by Jack Beeching
Kazuo Ishiguro wrote this largely faithful adaptation of Ikiru, a 1952 Kurosawa film about an austere civil servant who learns that he is dying. Bill Nighy’s Mr Williams finds that his approaching death brings his remaining life sharply into focus: what should he do with the time he has left? The setting is now 50s London, evoked through archive footage and the retro, 4:3 aspect ratio. The film is sincere, making for a refreshing watch after so many self-aware blockbusters. Uplifting without being too sentimental, Nighy shines in this drama about redemption and meaning.
White Noise – ★★
by Vanessa Huang
With White Noise, Noah Baumbach enters uncharted territory. It’s his first time working with existing material, adapting Don DeLillo’s supposedly unfilmable novel of the same name. It also integrates CGI and action sequences, resulting in the biggest budget he’s ever worked with. This audacious move doesn’t quite pay off, and we’re left with a film that’s weighed down by its own ambition.
Adam Driver plays Jack Gladney, a professor of Hitler studies who, with his kindhearted wife Babette (Greta Gerwig) and their precocious brood, lives a comfortable life nestled in middle class suburbia. A black cloud called the Airborne Toxic Event then arrives, forcing them to evacuate as the looming threat of death collides with familial crisis.
In trying to pull off this fast-paced, plot-heavy narrative, Baumbach falters, seeming out of his depth compared to his usual observational style of filmmaking – a style that distinguished him as a contemporary auteur. Of course, we still have some of the classic Baumbachian tendencies. It’s a very talky film about a family, and a fundamentally dysfunctional one at that. There’s also the essential egotistical (male) character: Jack appears to revel in his cult-like following within academia, all while viewing Babette as nothing more than a doting caregiver.
But any supposed commentary on consumerism and mortality is drowned out by how loud this film is. It’s not just how much the characters talk; every stylistic decision – from the direction to the writing to the production design – feels overdone. This maximalist idiosyncrasy doesn’t exactly feel justified when the film, at its core, doesn’t have all that much to say.
There are cleverly satirical moments aimed at academia and intellectualism – in one scene, Jack and a colleague engage in an animated back-and-forth, drawing parallels between the lives of Hitler and Elvis Presley. But then White Noise seems to fall into the same trap, becoming stuffy and overbearing with its own self-importance. At least there’s an upbeat LCD Soundsystem dance sequence during the end credits – a wonderful way to cap off this thoroughly bewildering experience.
Glass Onion: A Knives Out Mystery – ★★★
by Liv Kessler
To keep it short, it’s a very entertaining film. It’s funny. It’s surprising. It features Daniel Craig in a ridiculous bathing costume. What more can I say?
It was clear from the very beginning that this would not be quite as good as the first Knives Out film. Despite the expanded budget and many celebrity faces, it often feels a little dated, especially in its references to the pandemic. Some of the cinematic elements were a bit too over the top, taking away from the actual plot.
It wasn’t really until the middle of the film that I truly felt the action pick up and I became more invested in figuring out the mystery. I appreciate a film that makes me overly confident about the wrong thing.
The most noticeable thing was just how funny it was. The whole cinema was laughing and honestly it was impossible not to; it’s obvious that Daniel Craig just loves playing Benoit Blanc. If you’ve ever seen him in James Bond, this is the opposite.
I think that overall, though it may not be a life changing film, it will entertain you during Christmas break.
One Fine Morning – ★★★★★
by Vanessa Huang
Mia Hansen-Løve’s latest outing is a homecoming of sorts. First, it’s a return to her native French after her English language debut. It’s also somewhat autobiographical – smaller in scale, gentler in touch, and imbued with a quotidian simplicity that’s entirely one-of-a-kind.
The film follows Sandra (Léa Seydoux), a widow with a young daughter, who stands at the intersection of two crises. She has an ailing father who requires full-time care as his condition continues to deteriorate. Then there’s also a rekindled friendship with a married man that quickly escalates into a full-blown affair.
Rather than dramatising the chaos in Sandra’s life, the film is filtered through a lens of soft nostalgia, achingly teasing out these glimmers of human emotion. An interpreter in her professional life, Sandra seems to occupy this role in her personal life too. She’s constantly looking at, thinking about, and talking about other people – placing everyone else’s needs before her own. It’s difficult not to sympathise when the affair feels like the first time she’s being seen.
One Fine Morning is miraculous in its ability to carry the bittersweetness of complex relationships – devastating heartbreak punctuated by delightful moments of humour (there is a Father Christmas scene that is on its own worth the price of a cinema ticket). I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.
Triangle of Sadness – ★★★
by Christina Jiang
Referring to the wrinkles that form between your eyebrows, induced by stress and fixed by botox, Triangle of Sadness follows supermodel couple Carl and Yaya as they embark on a luxury cruise. On board, the out-of-touch ultra-wealthy contrast with the harangued crewmembers who are forced to entertain ridiculous requests. After a storm (and much projectile vomiting), they are shipwrecked on an island where the social hierarchy is reversed.
Despite winning the Palme d’Or at Cannes, I was apprehensive as I sat down to watch. My worries were confirmed. It is not a ‘brilliantly scathing takedown of the wealthy and beautiful’ as proclaimed by the trailer – the satire is heavy-handed and shallow, summed up by: ‘rich people, aren’t they so silly?!’ Overall, it is just fine.
The Wonder – ★★★★
by Jill Shaughnessy
With Don’t Worry Darling dominating the headlines, a gorgeous performance by Florence Pugh is flying relatively under the radar in this new Sebastián Lelio film. The Wonder, based on Emma Donoghue’s 2016 novel of the same name, transports you to picturesque countryside in Victorian Ireland. The film unfolds to discover the truth behind strange circumstances while providing surprisingly modern commentary.
From the beginning, Lelio’s film maintains an interesting duality between being a slow burn and entirely captivating. The film begins with a panoramic shot of the outside of the film set in modern day. It allows the audience to literally step into the period drama and its environment by leaving their current reality. It comments on the idea that despite taking place in a fictionalised past, the themes can be applied today.
The substance of the plot comes from the Victorian phenomenon of the “fasting girl”. Florence Pugh portrays nurse Lib Wright who travels to Ireland to try to understand a community’s miracle child. A young girl, Anna O’Donnell (Kila Lord Cassidy), has seemingly not eaten in four months. With the help of a nun, the town’s council tasks Lib with conducting a watch of Anna to discover how she is managing to remain healthy. Anna’s parents and the town do not allow Lib to make medical decisions or help her in any way. The film unfolds by revealing Lib’s tragic past and the strong religious ties of the town’s families.
The townspeople view Anna as a miracle from God, rather than a scientific wonder, while Anna herself believes that every decision she makes impacts how God views her. This contrasts with Lib’s scientific role. The film shows a strong female character in a position of power that is not respected or heard by her superiors. This is linked to religion, as the film analyses how extreme religious views can obstruct the truth. The plot is applicable in today’s society with debates on COVID vaccines, religious legislation, and bodily autonomy. Themes of corruption, science versus God, and feeling trapped transcend the time period.
Florence Pugh, with her native accent and fresh face, pairs beautifully with the breathtaking Irish landscapes. Kila Lord Cassidy is incredibly impressive for a child actress and will no doubt be seen on screen in the future. Her performance is eerie and effective. That being said, one may note that the simple cinematography and awkward one-liners leave something to be desired. However, Lelio once again proves he can successfully showcase an impactful story with a woman at the forefront.
Guillermo del Toro’s Pinocchio – ★★★
by Vanessa Huang
There’s something so special about stop-motion animation: with all the hours spent on its intricate construction, it’s impossible for it not to ooze with care and love. Guillermo del Toro’s Pinocchio is no exception.
Adapted from Carlo Collodi’s novel, it’s a noticeably more sombre take on the well-known folk tale. We’re in Mussolini’s Italy and fascism serves as a constant throughline. After carpenter Gepetto’s (David Bradley) son is killed by a bomb, he falls into a drunken rage and carves a wooden puppet. This puppet comes to life as Pinocchio (Gregory Mann), armed with a sunny disposition and a longing to become a real boy.
The backdrop of fascism adds some much-needed darkness, avoiding the saccharine lifelessness of Disney and introducing real stakes. The animation is, as you might expect, absolutely resplendent, and only heightened by an outstanding set of vocal performances – Christoph Waltz, playing yet another villain, is a particular highlight.
Then there are parts where Pinocchio doesn’t do as well: it suffers from a bloated second act and loses a little of its narrative tension. The songs, inconsistently scattered throughout the film, are also so utterly unremarkable that removing them would have no impact on the viewing experience. And to top it off, there’s the inexplicable decision to cast Cate Blanchett in a role with no dialogue – only squeals and grunts.
But what perseveres is del Toro’s unwavering dedication to telling this story of parenthood, childhood disobedience, and mortality. And perhaps, like the medium of stop-motion animation, the film’s charm comes in its imperfection.
The Whale – ★★★
by Syed Zaid Ali
Adapted from a play of the same name by writer Samuel D. Hunter, this is a deeply personal story – Hunter discussed his past struggles self-medicating with food as he was presenting the film with director Darren Aronofsky at the festival. Set almost entirely in Charlie’s (Brendan Fraser) apartment, we watch on in anguish as he slowly feeds himself to death. He attempts to reconnect with his estranged daughter, Ellie (Sadie Sink) as he grapples with depression.
This adaptation to screen retained much of its theatricality, and I believe this was much to its detriment. Crucially, this was reflected in the supporting performances and dialogue. This is a curious flaw, since Aronofsky mentions the importance of “light, camera, and performance” while presenting the film. The heightened moments of the supporting characters don’t always feel earned and instead tip into melodrama; I had the feeling throughout that I would’ve much preferred seeing this in its original, staged form.
Without this adaptation though, we would miss out on Fraser’s turn as Charlie. This is undoubtedly a masterful return to acting; the close-ups on him are what make this film, and are a large part of why the film manages to tug at the heartstrings regardless of its faults.
Let any other performer come; none will dethrone Fraser as the best lead this year.
The Banshees of Inisherin – ★★★★★
by William Goltz
Boring people, it must be said, do not tend to make great protagonists. Ordinary people, sure, thrust into extraordinary situations, might continue to fascinate us in a 1984, Eddy the Eagle kind of way. However, it seems impossible to think of a leading character who is made compelling purely on account of their own dullness. Boringness is boring, conventional wisdom would seem to suggest. In his latest film, however, Irish writer-director Martin McDonagh seems to have taken this notion as a creative challenge rather than as a guiding principle. The Banshees of Inisherin is a curiously fascinating examination of the value of mundanity. Pádraic (Colin Farrell) is a nice-but-dull farmer whose only close friend, Colm (Brendan Gleeson) can no longer stand the insipidity of their daily conversation. One day, seemingly without warning, Colm decides that he can no longer speak to Pádraic as a friend. As their abruptly soured relationship descends into pettiness and violence, one truth remains inescapable – Pádraic is dull. Played with a well-judged sense of immaturity by Farrell, he never truly grasps the reality of his situation and clings blindly to the hope that he might repair his friendship with Colm. His character is frustrating to watch, his brow constantly furrowed, his eyes distant, as if he is forever on the verge of finding the answer to his own strange predicament. And yet he is oddly compelling. As dull as McDonagh tells us Pádraic is, it is painful for us to watch him realise that he is an idiot.
To anyone familiar with McDonagh’s wider filmography, Banshees will feel like a departure. While there are flashes of McDonagh’s trademark sardonic wit across the film, it does not have the same frantic absurdity of In Bruges or Seven Psychopaths. By contrast, Banshees feels slow and foreboding. It is the story of a petty squabble on an island with bigger problems. These troubles are made apparent by Barry Keoghan’s genuinely unsettling performance as the serially abused son of the local police chief, who he plays with a uniquely affecting innocence. Against this backdrop, Pádraic’s tragedy feels insubstantial. In the film’s total embrace of futility, however, it is utterly captivating.
