In the small village of Magdala a young woman, Mary (Rooney Mara), rails against her narrow options. When she refuses an arranged marriage, her family deems her possessed by demons and attempts to have her purged. Then a strange, intense transient (Joaquin Phoenix) passes through town with a number of hangers-on, and Mary is swept up in his doctrine of peace and love. She joins his convoy, and together they head for Jerusalem. The rest of the story is quite well known.
This is Melbourne director Garth Davis’s follow-up to his smash-hit Oscar nominee Lion, and here he takes on a familiar story and gives it new life. There hasn’t been a film version of Mary Magdalene’s story for over a century, and this feels far more than a parable; it’s fresh and contemporary.
Despite having little agency in her role as a disciple (she goes from defying the men in her family to following another man), Mary commands the film from the start. Davis says Pakistani activist and the youngest Nobel Prize laureate Malala Yousafzai was an inspiration for the film, and Rooney’s performance uses that muse brilliantly.
Phoenix plays Jesus like a roaming cult leader with an otherworldly intensity and aloofness. His portrayal is far removed from the image of the clean, handsome saviour we have become accustomed to.
The Death of Stalin
No one does blistering political satire like Armando Iannucci, the writer of the film In the Loop, and TV series Veep and The Thick of It. He applies that same chaotic, farcical approach to Soviet Russia in his latest piece The Death of Stalin. And it’s some of his best work.
A power vacuum threatens the upper echelons of command after Joseph Stalin (here played like a cockney crime lord by Adrian McLoughlin) dies suddenly. (In the act he pisses himself on the floor of his office, but the guards are unwilling to assist because they’re not to disturb him on pain of death.) A stellar ensemble cast, including Steve Buscemi, Olga Kurylenko and Michael Palin, play the comrades fighting in the vacuum, scrambling for power in any way they can.
In the bizarre-but-largely-true Death of Stalin – made 65 years after the events depicted – the adage that comedy equals tragedy plus time seems correct. Huge laughs are drawn from the absurdity of Soviet propaganda and law, the ineptitude of the powerful, and the fact the whole country is in the grip of fear. A simple mistake or faux pas will likely lead to execution. This is more Dr Strangelove – the stakes are unbearably high and life is cheap. Which just makes it funnier.
The cast of British and American comedy royalty wear their Soviet garb with ridiculous aplomb, and play their roles with no regard for period accuracy. There are no comedy Russian accents here, thankfully, just a brilliant farce of politics and the self-serving idiocy that reigns behind the scenes.
The Death of Stalin is playing at Dendy Opera Quays and Newtown, Hayden Orpheum, Randwick Ritz, Roseville and Palace Cinemas Verona and Norton Street. Watch the trailer and read our interview with director Armando Iannucci.
The Other Side of Hope
Syrian refugee Khaled (Sherwan Haji) has smuggled himself on a cargo ship bound for Helsinki to seek asylum. Meanwhile, small-time businessman Waldemar (Sakari Kuosmanen) buys a failing restaurant. Khaled has traversed borders, suffered racism and violence across Europe – Finnish bureaucracy is one last hurdle; one last insult. Waldemar offers him support, a bed and a job.
This witty, subtle and beautifully painted comedy-drama is supposedly the final work of Finland’s most well-known director Aki Kaurismäki. Visually, Kaurismäki’s Helsinki is like an Edward Hopper painting: richly coloured and stylised, but lonely and sparse. But these streets also harbour fascist gangs and overbearing police.
The experiences of the locals and the refugees are subtly contrasted in just a few snatches of dialogue. “I need some action after all this peace and quiet,” says a Finnish woman on the verge of retirement. “Dying is easy, but I want to live,” a fellow refugee tells Khaled while they await the state verdict on whether they’ll be sent home to Syria.
The Other Side of Hope is playing at Dendy Opera Quays and Newtown, Hayden Orpheum, Roseville and Palace Cinemas Verona and Norton Street. Watch the trailer.
Isle of Dogs
In a very Wes Anderson dystopian Japanese mega-city, a plague is spreading among the dog population. The cat-loving mayor exiles all dogs to Trash Island to fend for themselves. There, a scrappy bunch of mutts (voiced by Bryan Cranston, Edward Norton, Bob Balaban, Bill Murray and Jeff Goldblum) rescue a little boy, Atari (Koyu Rankin), who has travelled to Trash Island to rescue his own dog.
You either love Wes Anderson or you don’t. I like him a lot. Rich, poignant films like The Royal Tenenbaums, The Life Aquatic and The Darjeeling Limited go beyond their whimsical (but always beautiful) design and carry real depth and heart.
This is Anderson’s second foray into stop-motion animation (see also Fantastic Mr Fox, because it’s very good) and it’s visually as lavish as we’ve come to expect, but in a lot of other ways it’s Anderson’s slightest film.
With an ensemble also including Scarlett Johansson, Greta Gerwig, Harvey Keitel, Tilda Swinton and Yoko Ono, it’s so packed with cameos and side plots that nothing has much depth, and it’s hard to get a hold of exactly what Anderson is trying to say. Maybe he’s not trying to say anything – after all this is a family film about dogs and it doesn’t necessarily need to be anything more than 90 minutes of fun – but Anderson usually achieves all of these things at once. That said the jokes are very funny, and the animation and design are predictably gorgeous. If the rest of it leaves you a bit cold, you can at least look at the dogs.
Isle of Dogs opens on April 12. Watch the trailer.
A Clockwork Orange (1971)
Teenage delinquent Alex DeLarge (Malcolm McDowell) and his droogs stalk the backstreets and byways of a forsaken future London, drunk on milk, beating up the homeless and breaking into the homes of the rich. Everything is done in the pursuit of ultra violence. When the law finally catches up with him, Alex is offered the chance of reform in the guise of an extreme form of aversion therapy. But can psychological conditioning redeem such an extreme case? Should it?
When the film came out the Catholic Legion of Decency rated it C ("Condemned”), forbidding Roman Catholics from seeing it. It was withdrawn from circulation in the UK after director Stanley Kubrick got death threats, and was also banned in Ireland, Singapore and South Africa. Anthony Burgess, the author of the novel it’s based on, disowned his book and decried the film.
Nearly 50 years on, it’s widely seen and highly regarded, and is still quirky and petrifying in equal measure. The pitch-black humour and gaudy, grandiose design are timeless, and the decades haven’t worn down the impact of its blood thirst. In fact, it fits right into today’s increasingly divided societies, and discussion of its depictions of sexual violence has never been more relevant. Are the rape scenes gratuitous? Titillating, even? As society becomes more aware of sexual assault and its impacts, is the guise of social satire enough to justify depicting women as mindless victims at the hands of horrible, violent men who are nevertheless given the full, heroic light of the camera’s glare?
A Clockwork Orange is playing at Randwick Ritz on April 22 and 23. Watch the trailer.
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