*with pretty pictures.
Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy
Gary Oldman searches for a mole. Not a bodily one - that would be weird - but a rogue agent spreading fear and doubt through a circus of spies in '70s Britain. Surprisingly, pacing isn't a problem; keeping up is the hard bit. It's a film that relies on its audience having an understanding of subtext, and more than one brain cell each. Sadly I'm deficient in this type of thing so it was all a bit of a slog, though a thoroughly absorbing one. I have it on good authority (Dad) that the period detail is spot-on: greys, browns, bad architecture and a general air of oppressiveness and paranoia. The performances are as good as you'd expect from such a cast and everyone gets their moment, which is a rare occurence with an ensemble but always nice. Take your brain, take your dad; don't take a toilet break.
*
Drive
Impossibly sweet and unbelievably brutal, Drive is the sum of so many mutually-contradicting themes, scenes and quirks that it should be an incoherent, silly mess. Of course, it isn't: it's the most elegantly violent thing since Oldboy and the best mood piece since Lost in Translation. Ryan Gosling plays the getaway driver who deigns to help a brother out, and comes to pay for it. Cue kick-ins, amateur dental surgery and lots of weirdly gorgeous synthpop. I'd love to write a proper review but it would take 2,000 words and a detailed Venn diagram to merely describe the tone, so instead I'll say just this: it's the cutest film of the year, and the most brutal. How does it work? I don't know. But it's so much fun, I don't need to.
Impossibly sweet and unbelievably brutal, Drive is the sum of so many mutually-contradicting themes, scenes and quirks that it should be an incoherent, silly mess. Of course, it isn't: it's the most elegantly violent thing since Oldboy and the best mood piece since Lost in Translation. Ryan Gosling plays the getaway driver who deigns to help a brother out, and comes to pay for it. Cue kick-ins, amateur dental surgery and lots of weirdly gorgeous synthpop. I'd love to write a proper review but it would take 2,000 words and a detailed Venn diagram to merely describe the tone, so instead I'll say just this: it's the cutest film of the year, and the most brutal. How does it work? I don't know. But it's so much fun, I don't need to.
*
Tomorrow I'm seeing Crazy, Stupid, Love. I know. I hope you're sorry, Gosling.
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