‘There Will Be Blood’

Great filmmakers are rare in the current climate of computer generated images. In the case of the director, Paul Anderson Thomas, he has built a formidable career from offering panoramic glimpses into private moments, and revealing the interior landscapes of his characters’ lives with sharp insight.

His latest epic, ‘There Will Be Blood’ is completely removed from his previous works, ‘Boogie Nights’ and ‘Magnolia’ which although being beautifully crafted films did not possess the grand drama of ‘Blood.’

Starring the inimitable Daniel Day Lewis as Daniel Plainview, a greedy oil baron who suddenly strikes it rich in early 20th century California, ‘There Will Be Blood’ takes an intense look at the negative effect that religion and the pursuit of wealth can have on each other. The film also shoots out little bolts of genius when it comes to the way it deals with family, betrayal and murder.

The story follows 30 years in the life of Plainview and his adopted son, HW, a quiet child who acts as his father’s business partner, only in the sense of providing the innocent face needed to anchor Plainview’s image as a family man. HW (played by newcomer, Dillon Freasier) acts his abhorrent father’s lifeline to the outside world, in the sense of a half-decent human relationship.

But when HW loses his hearing in an accident, Plainview slowly loses his relationship with his son and his grip on reality. Added into the mix is Eli Sunday, a young Evangelical priest who sets Plainview on course to procure most of the land needed to build his oil empire. Played to perfection by Paul Dano, Eli is just as ruthless and ego-centric as Plainview, who remains embroiled in a bitter feud of petty humiliations with him.

It all comes to a head in the finale when Plainview and Eli’s domineering personalities clash to devastating effect. Daniel Day Lewis gives a performance of such power that one could get elegiac about its boisterousness.

The only criticism here is that Anderson ends his story on a strange note very much in the same mould as ‘Magnolia’s’ famous frog-raining sequence. At times, it felt like the director was compromising on emotional depth in place of superb aesthetics. But these are mere quibbles in the face of such a beautiful, brutal piece of filmmaking. A classic in the making.

‘There Will Be Blood’ is out on Feb 8 (Walt Disney Pictures)

By Diriye Osman

My Kid Could Paint That

The modern art world is an incredibly fickle environment, in which oddities are lauded and sold for obscene amounts of money, but sometimes things are not always what they seem on the surface. At times, the art world can end up with egg on their faces, such as when paintings that had sold for thousands of pounds were discovered to have been created by a chimp!

When the parents of American four year old, Marla Olmstead ‘seemingly’ discovered that their child possessed prodigious talents as a painter, they cunningly marketed her and within the space of a few months, she became an international sensation.

Compared with iconic artists like Pollock and Kandinsky, Marla’s work was soon selling for six figure sums until ‘60 Minutes’, an American investigative news show did an expose, suggesting that the paintings were doctored by her father, who was an amateur painter.

Cracks began to show when the child was filmed painting and the images did not match up to the ones that had secured her fame. Doubts crept in, questions were being asked and as quickly as the public had built Marla up, they tore her down.

Soon the sales dried up and the Olmsteads became hate figures bombarded with death threats. Why? ‘My Kid Could Paint That’ answers many of those questions. The documentary is an intimate look at the period between Marla’s success and the ensuing drama of her fall from grace. Directed by Amir Bar-Lev, it is an incredibly nuanced and haunting film about exploitation and the very nature of modern art.

The essential question is what is modern art? And how relevant is it if a four year old’s paintings could be so successful?

As the story unfolds, the relationship between Bar Levi and the Olmsteads becomes so complex and tangled up, that the viewer begins to question the filmmaker’s motives. This all makes for riveting yet slightly disturbing viewing.

‘My Kid Could Paint That’ questions the very essence of celebrity and modern art and it is a brilliant, thought-provoking film.

‘My Kid Could Paint That’ is out on 14 Dec from Sony Pictures.

By Diriye Osman

The Savages

The dictionary lists the term, “Savage”, as “cruel and uncivilized.” It is an apt description for a new film that focuses on the inner workings of a supremely dysfunctional family.

Meet Wendy and Jon Savage, two self-involved, pill-popping siblings whose intellect far supersedes their emotional repertoire. Wendy (played by the brilliant Laura Linney) is involved with an unavailable, married man whilst Jon (Philip Seymour Hoffman) won’t ask his girlfriend to marry him, because he feels their relationship is “just not at that level yet.”

Their father suffers from acute dementia, and so when his girlfriend dies, the siblings come together to take care of him. The ensuing drama is at once hilarious, desperately sad and moving.

It is to the director, Tamara Jenkins’ credit, that the film never slips into saccharine melodrama and the dialogue feels crisp, crackling out of the actors’ mouths with ease. Seymour Hoffman turns in a wondrous performance as the self-loathing academic, whilst Philip Bosco’s role as the father bubbles with authenticity.

This is Jenkins’ second film, and it is an intimate affair that presents familial life as a microcosm of human weakness and just as interestingly, strength. The gritty backdrop of the nursing homes serves as a reminder of the painful effects of dementia, not only for the sufferer but for the family as well. This is a great film that enlightens and entertains at the same time.

The Savages is out on 25 Jan 2008.

By Diriye Osman

This Christmas

Christmas films are usually schlock-fests that function more as money-making ventures than genuinely spirited fun. In the case of ‘This Christmas’, a film directed by Preston A Whitmore II, it is a balance between the two, as the focus is on the melodramatic arc of the nuclear family that reunites after years of separation.

It is not an original concept, and ‘This Christmas’ is far from a perfect film. But Whitmore fills the holes in the production with lots of escapist fun, including a thoroughly entertaining belt thrashing, catfights in the rain, gun chases and two performances from Chris Brown.

Spearheaded by a who’s who of black talent, including the marvellous (and terribly underrated) Delroy Lindo and Idris Elba, the film’s anchor is Loretta Devine as the matriarch, Ma’ Dere. Her role is a conflation of the motherly ideal as well as functioning as a comfort woman to Lindo’s deacon.

After four years, the Whitfield clan have reassembled for Christmas at their mother’s beautiful LA home. There is the downtrodden but gorgeous Lisa (Regina King) who’s clearly being taken for a ride by her husband. Then there is the feisty sister, Kelli (Sharon Leal) whose flourishing career in New York leaves little time for relationships and plenty of moments with her vibrator.

R&B superstar, Chris Brown plays Baby, a burgeoning singer who has to hide his craft from his mother, for fear that she gets upset. The Whitfield family have plenty of secrets and each one is revealed gradually, and the conclusion is a happily ever after fairytale. This is too neat an ending, and some moments in the film feel absurd, like when Idris Elba’s character is being hunted by crooks, who are eventually invited to spend the holidays at his mother’s house.

In many instances, the film is reminiscent of the recent work by Tyler Perry, that other burgeoning stalwart of kitchen sink melodrama. Even with its rough edges, ‘This Christmas’ will probably work very well as a commercial vehicle whilst serving up hot flavour. Good fun for the entire family.

‘This Christmas’ is out on 30 Nov. Certificate 12A

By Diriye Osman

Things We Lost in The Fire

Grief is as extreme an emotion as anyone can feel. It can capsize entire lives into oblivion and often enough, different people deal with it in contradistinctive ways.
This is the focus of ‘Things We Lost in the Fire’, a new film by Danish wunderkind, Suzanne Bier that enlists the acting skills of Benicio Del Toro and Halle Berry.

Berry plays the well-maintained wife of a wealthy property developer (played by David Duchovny) who happens to be a saintly being. When he is killed, whilst trying to prevent a violent domestic dispute between a couple of strangers, Berry invites his junkie high school friend, Jerry (Benicio Del Toro) to the funeral and eventually, into her home.

Despite his problems, Jerry is charismatic and fun, playing with Berry’s two beautiful children and supporting her through her grief. Based on a script by Allan Loeb, it is to Berry and Del Toro’s credit that their characters feel real and honest.

De Toro practically melts the screen with his aloof facial expressions that take in sorrow and joy with sensitive, understated movements. His is a far more restrained performance than Berry’s but she also gleams with a rare vitality that has been missing since her Oscar winning turn in ‘Monster’s Ball’.

When her eyes glaze over with unhappiness, the camera captures every detail and sifts that through the viewer’s consciousness with an overstated power. Yes, the film does surge and ebb without a consistent flow, but this is its strength as well as weakness. Bier’s point is that grief dramatically restructures an individual’s life, and in her characters’ collective loss, she gives us a mirror that reflects the confusing nature of their experiences.

Even though, it is not as polished as her Danish work, in the same way that Michael Haneke’s recent foray into Hollywood films was a little rough, Bier keeps the drama going by keeping her characters grounded in a torturous reality. This is an intriguing film from a great talent.

‘Things We Lost in the Fire’ is out on 4 Jan 2008.

By Diriye Osman