Netflix Archives - Things&Ink

February 1, 2016February 1, 2016

Documentaries: Making a Murderer

Alexandra Langston is a creative copywriter, editor, and part-time blogger, living and working in Qatar. In this post Alex talks about the Making a Murderer series…

Over Christmas, like a lot of people, I plummeted into the Netflix Making a Murderer vortex with wilful abandon. Living in the Middle East, I had heard a few grumbles about the series on the internet, but was otherwise unaware of details; in retrospect, blissfully unaware.
About a year ago, I delved similarly head-long into a series of documentaries about the West Memphis Three – three Arkansas teenage boys who in 1994 were found guilty of the murders of three younger boys. Two were sentenced to life in prison, whilst the perceived ringleader was sentenced to death.

The murder, trial, and media coverage were all clouded by the so-called ‘Satanic Panic’ that pervaded the US for much of the early 90s. Wearing black, listening to heavy metal, and being interested in belief systems beyond the typical Christianity of the Deep South, meant a guilty verdict was more or less guaranteed. If it wasn’t for film makers Joe Berlinger and Bruce Sinofsky capturing proceedings, that would have been that for the boys.

Fortunately, after the first film aired in 1996 interest in the case built, and over the next fifteen years the tireless support of the public (and some celebrities) led to new DNA evidence. In 2011 the possibility of a re-trial that would potentially embarrass the state led to an unusual plea deal; all three men were freed, but the state maintained their guilt.
I watched in absolute horror and astonishment, feeling elated at their release and total disgust at the injustice of the state’s lack of culpability. Overall though, I felt that this scenario had to be an anomaly, a one off. I was very wrong.

Enter Making a Murderer. In 1985, Steven Avery was wrongfully convicted of sexual assault in Manitowoc County, Wisconsin, and spent eighteen years in prison before being fully exonerated by new DNA evidence. Two years after his release, and on the eve of a multi-million dollar settlement from Manitowoc County, Avery was arrested and then tried and convicted of the murder of a young woman. His nephew, Brendan Dassey, was also sentenced to life in prison for his part in the killing.

The confluence of a looming settlement that would have financially crippled the county, and the investigation by officers and prosecutors that had also played a part of the original wrongful conviction, is at the centre of the ten hour series. The documentary raises questions about the trustworthiness of the investigation and its key players, but it has also seen a heavy backlash that claims a lack of impartiality from documentarians Laura Ricciardi and Moira Demos. The two women are also accused of leaving out important trial evidence in order to more convincingly paint the defendants as innocent.

What is clear is that for both men the investigations and trial were not entirely unbiased, and whichever side of the fence you come down on, the takeaway should be that we take a long hard look at our justice systems. In the twenty years since the West Memphis Three case came to prominence, how many more people have not received adequate defences due to a lack of money and resources?
Questionable journalism aside, it is important that these kinds of documentaries continue to be made – that we keep asking questions – because it is not just in the US that you can find yourself in an unwinnable situation.

December 11, 2015

Series Review: Archer

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.

Archer, 2009 to present, cert 15-18, creator: Adam Reed, 4/5

I like adult cartoons. There’s something twisted about taking a medium supposedly aimed at kids on Saturday mornings and infecting it with satire and innuendo. One of the best animated comedies you could be watching right now is Archer, the seventh season of which is released next year. You can get seasons one to five on disc and seasons one to six on Netflix. This is spy comedy but it’s no Kim Possible. If you thought Austin Powers was racy you ain’t seen nothin’ yet.

The hero of this epic odyssey of madness is Special Agent Sterling Archer, voiced by H. Jon Benjamin who also voices Bob in Bob’s Burgers. Sterling is a secret agent who combines the smooth, violent alcoholism of James Bond with the crass humour and lust of a teenage schoolboy. In other words, although sometimes he is capable of completing missions, dispatching enemies and looking suave, his safety and sanity (along with those of others around him) are often threatened by a dangerous cocktail of arrogance, alcoholism and unbridled lustful enthusiasm.

Archer works for the unfortunately named private spy agency ISIS, owned by his mother Malory (Jessica Walter) who’s a bit of an alcoholic, scheming, selfish megalomaniac. He works alongside fellow agent and ex-girlfriend Lana Kane (Aisha Tyler) who despite being a more dependable agent than Archer is often the butt of department jokes due to her race and apparently oversized hands.

The other ISIS employees include Cyril Figgis the accountant, a combination of bitterness, cowardice and depraved lust. There’s Pam, head of human resources who grew up on a dairy farm, has big appetites for food and various perversions (often combined) and performs in bare knuckle fights for extra cash. There’s medicated secretary Cheryl/Carol Tunt who changed her name as Archer kept getting it wrong and enjoys choke sex. Let’s not forget flamboyantly gay agent Ray Gillette (voiced by the writer) and ‘doctor’ Krieger who may or may not be a Nazi clone and whose experiments are always questionable. Archer’s long-suffering, heroin addicted butler Woodhouse deserves a mention.

It’s this combination of such depraved individuals and their conflicted abusive/sexual relations with each other that make this show so enjoyable, as well as the ludicrous situations they’re thrust into. They encounter terrorists, gangsters, prostitutes, pirates, cyborgs, animals and actors in a variety of exotic locations and volatile situations that swiftly descend into graphic cartoon violence and/or sex.

Besides the characters and the plots, the second reason this show is a winner is that it’s a bold contender for the joke-a-minute claim. In other words, it’s really funny. I’m only up to season five and every episode is still as hilarious, energetic and fresh as the first season and sees no sign of letting up, which is remarkable considering how much is packed into each episode. The dark humour is a sophisticated yet coarse blend of political satire, crude innuendos and culture references (though these are not as obvious and frequent as in Family Guy). As with Family Guy and other such shows, Archer does occasionally go too far with the humour, especially when it comes to racial and sexual stereotypes. Then there’s the almost complete sexualisation of the female characters and you can’t help but wonder if the animators are maybe enjoying it too much. Nevertheless this is a spoof of the spy genre and action thrillers in general, which sexualise women without any apologies, whereas the main women in Archer are often vocally concerned about their dignity. I don’t think the show intends to be malicious or degrading about anyone (except their own characters) and their sole intention is to give us an action-packed, no-holds-barred and thoroughly enjoyable if guilty ride. You will never want to get off.

November 6, 2015

Film Review: Beasts of No Nation

Beasts of No Nation, 2015, cert 15, dir Cary Joji Fukunaga, 4/5

You could say this is an important film not just for its content but also because it’s the first feature-length movie produced by Netflix. I have mixed feelings for Netflix. It’s fun to use but I find its content rather geared to American mainstream movies. You still have to seek out international and cult/arty films on DVD. Not that I mind, because I prefer owning physical copies of films and music rather than having exhausting amounts of movies and songs online that don’t belong to me even if I pay a subscription fee.

I also disagree with the way Netflix have released their first movie. They pushed for cinematic release but a few cinema chains refused to show the film as Netflix released it on their channel at the same time. As representatives of these cinemas argued, why would people pay for cinema tickets when they could watch the movie at home? Their fears appear justified, for although the movie has over three million views online it only made $50,000 back from the $12 million Netflix doled out to distribute it in cinemas.

These cinemas have furthered accused Netflix of pushing for cinematic release just so they can qualify for an Academy award. If this is so, it feels slightly cynical to use a film about child soldiers just to get an award.

Not that it doesn’t deserve one. Cinematic politics aside, this is an almighty film. Based on a 2005 novel by Nigerian-American Uzodinma Iweala, the story is set in an unnamed African country (possibly Nigeria) and revolves around a boy named Agu played by first-time Ghanaian actor Abraham Attah. He lives the typical life of a fun-loving cheeky kid, safe within the buffer zone of a war-torn country with his friends and family. That is, until government troops storm Agu’s village, declare the men rebel spies and execute them, including Agu’s father and brother.

Agu escapes into the bush where he is captured by the real rebel army, mostly comprised of boys his age. He is trained by the formidable Commandant (played by British star Idris Elba) to be a guerrilla fighter and is thrust into a nightmarish world of bullets, blood and black magic.

For a young actor in his first role, Abraham Attah is magnificent. He doesn’t use a great deal of dialogue or expression and even his poetic interior monologue is used sparsely (as monologues should be). Nevertheless, he convincingly portrays the fear and trauma his character suffers, and the emotional damage and ageing war inflicts on him. Everything he says and does feels real, raw and pure: an incredibly mature performance from someone so young.

All the acting in the film is good, so much so it’s more like watching a documentary than a work of fiction. But the show is almost stolen by Idris Elba, whose portrayal of a guerrilla warlord is electrifying. His very presence and energy commands the screen along with his troops, especially during the scenes when he’s giving dramatic speeches to whip his boys up for battle. It’s great to see an actor we’re used to seeing play heroic characters like DCI John Luther effectively portray a devious and conflicted character like the Commandant. He proclaims to be a new father figure for the lost boys he recruits and that he’s given them fresh purpose in life, yet he’s willing to let them kill or be killed for his own ideals while never actually committing any violence himself. Rather, he’s more effective at inciting others to violence, which is what makes him so menacing. Yet he appears to genuinely care for Agu and this little bit of humanity is enough to make the audience feel some sympathy and respect for such a disturbing character, a great achievement on the film’s part.

The style of the film itself is an unflinching tour de force. The audience is thrust headlong into gritty realism, savage tension and heartbreaking tragedy. Rather than being steeped in politics, the film is more intent on portraying the psychological and emotional impact of war on its human characters. If there are any issues with the film, it’s that sometimes its portrayal of such psychological trauma is rather simplistic and idealistic, i.e. a child soldier can only recover from his experiences if he lets himself become a child again. You could also argue this is clearly another ‘issues’ drama, where the film is spending all its effort to show you how bad something is, along with the overriding strength of the human spirit etc etc. However, the film’s message is very clear and very relevant. Even if I judge Netflix, I praise them on getting behind such a masterpiece.