Category: Reviews

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Film Review: Wild Tales

Our guest blogger is hobbyist film and TV series reviewer and writer Harry Casey-Woodward. On th-ink.co.uk Harry will be writing a series of posts in which he will be sharing  his opinions on things he has watched. Read his first and second review. In this post Harry will be reviewing Wild Tales… 

Wild Tales (Relatos Salvajes), 2014, cert 15, dir Damián Szifron, 4/5

A plane load of passengers realise they all have something in common. A waitress recognises a customer. Two drivers have a disagreement. A demolition expert is late for his daughter’s birthday. A teenage boy wakes his parents in the middle of the night. Newlyweds celebrate their special day.

wild

So begin the six Wild Tales, a series of narratives in one film released in the UK this year and now on DVD. The tales are not related to each other. There are no random criss-crossing characters like in David Mitchell’s Ghostwritten novel, which makes connections between its stories for the sake of it. Wild Tales is more like watching an entire TV mini series similar to Inside Number 9, a British show that shares the film’s indulgence in wicked humour.

The only thing linking the tales is the theme of revenge, but they do not obsess over it in a Tarantino-esque, blood spattered manner. The director Damián Szifrón insists he did not have the linking theme in mind when he wrote the screenplay but that it materialised on completion. Thus the narratives feel very natural and there is no forced message. They are like little episodes, small windows into the characters’ lives (as short stories should be). So while we don’t get deep, complicated plots, we do get sharp, concentrated slices of action that somehow keep you gripped while covering a range of characters and issues.

This is not only the first film I’ve seen use this unique narrative structure, but the first Argentinean film I’ve ever seen. It’s produced by the legendary Spanish film maker Pedro Almodóvar and while Wild Tales does pay homage to Pedro’s style (stylish film work, passionate performances and a thick streak of black humour), it stands up on its own and is more concerned with plot and action rather than the emotional complexities of its character’s relationships, which Pedro is a master at.

plane

Some of the stories manage emotional impact with hints of tragedy, while others are stark exercises in making us laugh then feeling guilty about it. The plane-based narrative at the beginning, for example, serves as a short but bold introduction that grabs your attention and ensnares it for the rest of the movie.

That’s not to say this film does away with emotions altogether. This is no cold expression of violence like a Haneke or Kubrickian film. Wild Tales is about real characters being thrust into extraordinary situations and their lives spiralling out of control. As Szifrón explains, each character find themselves losing their inhibitions and enacting primal fantasies that civilised society can only dream of.

All in all, this film is a sheer delight to watch. Everything about it works. Like the best films, it’s a spicy pot of humour, darkness and substance that’s carried along by outstanding performances and relies on smart filmmaking rather than dialogue to tell each remarkable story. Wild Tales has an Oscar nomination for best foreign language film this year and thoroughly deserves it.

What do you think? Do you agree with Harry? 

Images from IMDB

Director paraphrased from behind the scenes documentary and interview on DVD

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Series Review: Hannibal

Our guest blogger is hobbyist film and TV series reviewer and writer Harry Casey-Woodward. This is the second in a series of posts in which Harry will be sharing his opinions on things he has watched. Read his first review here. In this post Harry is reviewing Hannibal…

Hannibal, 2013- , cert 18, 2/5

American TV shows tend to annoy me. Of course there are exceptions and this is not going to be a rant about how everything produced by America is pig slop compared to the firm upholding columns of British art, because I enjoy more American films, book and music than such things from my own country.
However, it’s the way the ‘hottest’ US dramas are shoved in your face constantly while someone’s screaming ‘YOUR LIFE WILL NOT BE COMPLETE WITHOUT THIS.’ And when you bully your busy consciousness to pay attention to them, you realise that under all the hype, the glossy technical sheen and pretty actors, there’s not a lot going on.
‘Hannibal’ is no exception. For those not in the know, this series now in its third season is about everybody’s favourite cannibalistic psychiatrist, Dr. Hannibal Lecter and is set way before ‘Silence of the Lambs’ and even before ‘Red Dragon’, the first Hannibal story.

In the show, Hannibal is somehow not yet suspected of being a serial killer (despite an overly sinister performance by Mads Mikkelsen) and he is asked by FBI man Jack Crawford (Laurence Fishburne) to be psychiatrist for Will Graham (Hugh Dancy), a special consultant for the FBI who’s ‘too unstable’ to be an agent and is revered for his ability to fully emphasise with serial killers.
There have already been two films about Will Graham. In both ‘Manhunter’ (1986) and ‘Red Dragon’ (2002), Graham is presented as a brave, intelligent individual, battling his own demons. Hugh Dancy portrays him as a toddler constantly on the verge of a tantrum. He’s this fragile genius who everyone must dance around or he’ll snap and slaughter them all. Unfortunately the suggestion that someone who looks as threatening as a teddy bear can have a dark murderous heart isn’t very convincing.

His ‘gift’ is overblown too. In the films, Will simply sees the crime scene through the view of the killer, using psychology to pick out clues. In the show, Will can not only fully re-imagine the crime but also re-enact the whole thing, thus causing further annoyance when he pretends to be some big bad psychopath every episode. The replaying of the murder is impressive the first few times, but it gets a bit old when it’s done every episode.
The tendency to over-do things lets this show down big time. Every shot has to look sensuous and glamorous, whether it’s Hannibal’s cooking or a dismembered body. As impressive as the hallucinogenic scenes and perfect lighting is, every episode is an assault to the senses which gets exhausting. Yet under the flashy imagery, the dramatic emotions and heavy dialogue on psychology and murder, the show isn’t saying a lot. All it does it cater to society’s sick obsession with serial killers, of which there are a hundred other shows and films doing the same thing.


Every episode attempts to outdo the one before in terms of gore and violence. Every episode, Will and Jack are investigating a new killer in their local area, which just feels unrealistic. So does the amount of violence perpetrated by the killers. We’ve got killers building sculptures out of bodies, turning bodies into instruments or using them as fungus gardens. While the films attempted to be realistic and in depth with the psychology of their killers, the show just uses outrageous gore for gores’ sake, which feels shallow and sick.
The one thing that could have had more spice was Mad Mikkelsen’s performance of Hannibal. It’s cool to see a cold, restricted portrayal of the character, but Mikkelsen shows so little emotion in every episode that he gets a bit wooden. I still find Hopkins’ performance more chilling. He may be tongue in cheek but he demands your attention, whereas Mikkelsen comes across as a bit lazy.

But maybe I shouldn’t be complaining about something that has been written primarily for entertainment and I should just accept the fact that I do enjoy it for the nonsense that it is. However, what gets my goat is that it tries to be some deep philosophical drama when there’s not much substance under the style. And as for being a horror show, it’s not very scary. While the films went for the classic tools of suggestion and atmosphere to creep you out, the show just throws gore in your face. But if sensual overload is your thing, this show has a lot to offer visually, and Hannibal’s cooking did make me hungry…

What do you think? Do you agree with Harry’s review? 

Images from Sky

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Film Review: Jurassic World

Our guest blogger is hobbyist film reviewer and writer Harry Casey-Woodward. This is the first in a series of posts in which Harry will be sharing his opinions on films he has watched. First up is his review of Jurassic World… 

Jurassic World, 2015, cert. 12A, dir. Colin Trevorrow, 2/5

‘Jurassic World’ confuses me. It’s a bad film but somehow it was awesome. It made me cheer along and cry big fat tears of nostalgia as well as grind my teeth in frustration.

The reason for my eroded teeth was how much this new film has dumbed down the franchise. The first film was also made for entertainment, of course, but it at least had some good science that the characters weren’t afraid to discuss. This might have been because Michael Crichton wrote the screenplay – and also wrote the original novel, which was even heavier on the science and chaos theory. The film was also a bit scary…

The new film tries to be scary. In fact, I wouldn’t even call it an effort. So scientists have created a new super predator that gets out of their control? How refreshing! For something that’s meant to be scarier than the T-Rex, the new Indominus Rex (created because the public are getting bored of average dinosaurs) doesn’t even look interesting. You could have given it horns, wings, anything!  What also doesn’t help is that the Indomimus and all the other dinosaurs were rendered purely with thoroughly unimpressive CGI (computer-generated imagery). I don’t remember seeing any animatronics. So, somehow, the painstakingly crafted animatronics and limited CGI the 90s film had, look more realistic and scary than anything Hollywood can do now. Hooray for 21st century filmmaking.

So along with dumb effects and plot, we get dumb characters setting gender representation back several decades. Everyone has fallen in love with Chris Pratt and he is fun to watch, but his character is a one-dimensional action man. He’s the rugged man of the wilderness who can do no wrong. Next to him, we get Bryce Dallas Howard playing the female lead. She plays a capable character who can act on intuition. However, she is presented to us as a woman too obsessed with work and profits to spend time with her nephews and only becomes a more positive character when she opens up emotionally, usually through tears, which Chris Pratt never shows. She is also meant to be laughable because she doesn’t know how to cope in the jungle and Pratt does. She is also the most sexualised heroine in the franchise. Sure, Laura Dern runs around in shorts and loses her shirt in the first film. But she doesn’t run around in high heels, chest heaving and glistening with sweat, clothing getting more dishevelled, while Pratt’s remain intact. Does this say something about the declining presentation of women in film over the last two decades, or the trashy nature of sequels?

I also got fed up with the amount of nostalgia we were expected to swallow: the classic score blasted out at every opportunity and the constant needless references to the better first film, which only reminded you that you could be watching it.

Yet despite all this tripe, I came out of the cinema bouncing with excitement like I’d dropped ten years. Although my inner voice was screaming that this was not an accurate representation of dinosaur behaviour, the whole film was still one big thrill ride. The action is impressive and even quite bloody at times, which made me wonder if it was suitable for the families who doubtless flocked to see it, or are kids more desensitised these days?

Nevertheless, it was still exciting to see what a working dinosaur theme park would look like and clearly the makers had fun imagining it. Although I hate to admit it, the plotline of a new super predator dinosaur being created just to keep the public interested is believable, as is one character’s belief in the military potential of the dinosaurs. Furthermore, although the film’s message is nothing new and it’s still about people running away screaming, at least it did some things different, such as making the ‘raptors capable of training, so they could be good guys for once.

It was never going to be as good as the first film. There are several things wrong with it, but it could have been much worse. Don’t expect much, but do expect a lot of fun. And dinosaurs.

Images from Empire Online 

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Music Review: Patti Smith

Our guest blogger is inventory buyer, freelance writer and creator of Typewriter Teeth blog,  Amber Carnegie. This is the second in a series of music review posts in which Amber will be documenting her experiences at various music shows. In this post she reviews Patti Smith who played at the O2 Apollo in Manchester earlier this month. (read first post here) 

‘Jesus died for somebody’s sins, but not mine.’ The iconic opening to ‘Gloria’ sees Patti Smith bring ‘Horses’ to the Manchester 02 Apollo in celebration of its 40th anniversary. The album has infatuated generations for decades and that is clear from the diverse crowd joining Patti to punch the air with every letter ‘G.L.O.R.I.A’ , which goes to show show that these performances are leasing a new life into ‘Horses’ with every distinctive moment.

‘Redondo Beach’ followed the sweet rhythms and brought around the first change in pace as the crowd settled into the track’s reggae tempo, before Smith emerges herself in the words of ‘Birdland’. Emoting every word that she recalls from the page until she is in throws with the piece, thrashing with every passion, locked within the lyrics, trapped in the torment of the track as the guitars wail around her and the incredible piano pulls her through convulsing in ‘Birdland’ grief.

Although we knew that we would hear ‘Horses’ from start to finish what you couldn’t predict were the anecdotes and insights that came with each track.  A pretty close impression of Bob Dylan brought the story to Manchester itself.  To the guitar shop that may or may not have been in ‘Don’t Look Back’ where Smith purchased a Rickenbacker in their first visit to the city. ‘All I can say is, husbands come and go, but I still have that Rickenbacker.’ Just one of the many stories that intertwined between tracks of love, loss and life.

‘Elegie’ completes ‘Horses’ in a moment of remembrance and celebration.  Originally written in the passing of Jimi Hendrix the track now goes out to honour all those we have lost. Smith closes the song calling out the names of dead, the audience joining in the memorial with names called throughout the 02 Apollo. Finishing the song and the album with a soft smile and ‘Yes, all of them’ in a beautiful moment of calm and remembrance not just for Patti Smith, the band or the crowd but for all those people ‘Elegie’ and ‘Horses’ has effected.

‘Because The Night’ instigated the last surge of vitality as the set drew to a close. The 70s anthem breathing life into its own title before the renowned protest chorus ‘People Have The Power’ has Patti Smith conducting her own demonstration.  The rally drawing to a close with their cover of  The Who’s ‘My Generation’ with Smith brutally plucking every string from her Stratocaster ‘Behold! The weapon of my generation. It’s the only fucking weapon we need’. Interestingly Patti only destroyed the strings, as if there was divine respect for the instrument that stopped her from trashing it.

Patti embraces the possession of the lyrics with ‘I don’t need any of that shit. I hope I live because of it’. The punk poet laureate commanding every right to her title closing the evening of the surreal and the sound with split strings swaying from her pale blue Stratocaster.

Image from The Guardian

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Music Review: Brand New

Our guest blogger is inventory buyer, freelance writer and creator of Typewriter Teeth blog,  Amber Carnegie. This is the first in a series of music review posts in which Amber will be documenting her experiences at various music shows. First up is her review of the band Brand New who played at The Glee Club, Birmingham earlier this month… 

Earlier this year Brand New announced a small amount of intimate dates across the UK, in the minutes that they sold out, we were held in a sort of  limbo. Were we about to experience something that you can never find in an arena or witness knee deep in mud at a festival?

Mic-stands wrapped in flowers stood patiently waiting on the stage in a nod to The Smiths, before the band shook them as they opened with ‘Mene’, Brand New’s first recording in five years. Taking the lyrics ‘we don’t feel anything’ as our own before progressing into ‘Sink’ as if working back through their discography. In a raw instant the crowd was exposed and swept together into a close moment that could only be embraced in a venue like this. ‘Gasoline’ then followed the same fervent route, the distorted end constructed the quieter moments into ‘Millstone’.

For everyone in the room there is a track or an album that has pulled them through something or become a soundtrack to a period in their life. ‘The Devil And God Are Raging Inside Me’ illustrates something to me and that is what is so perfect about this set, to everyone in the crowd there was a meaning. But the moment that Brand New continued with ‘You Won’t Know’ is one that as fans we could share.

‘Sic Transit Gloria… Gloria Fades’ erupted into ‘Deja Entendu’, these favourite songs that still generate the same responsive passion that we all felt the first time we heard them more than a decade ago. Tracks that now stir emotional drunk sing-alongs at club nights and never fail to draw a crowd. ‘I Will Play My Game Beneath The Spin Light’ and ‘Okay I Believe You, But My Tommy Gun Don’t’ fittingly continued the teenage angst choir that had taken over the crowd with:

‘The kind of song that makes people glad to be where they are, with whomever they’re there with.’

Brand New persistently deliver incomparable shows, no matter where they play. With such a tight discography it is impossible to find a set list that doesn’t ensue an ardent atmosphere between the band and crowd. We were treated to an incredible full band version of ‘Brothers’ or ‘Untitled 03’ which is something I had never witnessed live before. Hearing a tracks like live for the first time really enhanced the night, making it stand out against all the other live shows I have been to.

‘Jesus Christ’ marks the final track to be performed by the entire band, winding down from an impassioned and perfect set, filled with everything that gets missed in a recording studio. Stirring every sentiment of nostalgia and of being in the moment.

Closing the show saw Jesse Lacey take the stage and lay every emotion out there for ‘Soco Amaretto Lime’. Usually at this moment the audience take the track for themselves,but in this close-knit venue Lacey clutched onto his words in an emotive and pained repetition with altered lyrics and a room silent in awe.

‘I’m just jealous cause you’re young and in love.’