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MUSIC FILM FEATURE TV BOOKS TECH STAGE SPOTLIGHT
REVIEWS E
VERYONE HAS heard of Nelson Mandela. He is one of the most well-known and most loved figures of the last century. His story is one that most people know parts of, maybe even all of, and it is a history so recent that it resonates with a number o f generations who have lived through it. How then, to commit it to celluloid, with the weight of experience and preconceptions hanging over it? Is it possible to take this man’s life and create something both historically accurate and cinematically moving? Well, they’ve certainly had a good go at it. The result is Mandela: Long Walk to Freedom (adapted from his
Mandela: Long Walk To Freedom
autobiography of the same name), a diligent overview of a man’s struggle moulded into an evocative cinematic experience. The film opens with a beautifully sunlit shot of the South African countryside, a slow and moving sequence of the young Mandela coming of age in the traditional rites of his village. This sets the scene of what continues throughout to be a beautifully shot piece of cinema, not merely a stroll down someone’s timeline. Although Mandela’s life is inextricably linked with the struggles in South Africa and the film uses his life as a prism through which to explore this, the film is first and foremost the life of one man and his role within this wider context. It begins with him as a young man and, as was inevitably the case, focuses on only a few moments which shape his life; from many different women, to joining the ANC. We watch as the many years imprisonment take their toll, until Mandela the President comes into being.
Devil’s Due
Z
ACH AND SAM, a happy pair of one-dimensional newlyweds, embark on their honeymoon in the Dominican Republic where they inadvertently get totally hammered, end up kidnapped and subjected to a strange underground ritual by some dodgy looking goths. The following day they return home, remembering nothing of their bizarre encounter to find that, shock-horror, Sam is now preggers. What’s more, the gestating fetus turns out to be a little more than they bargained for and much chaos ensues. If the set up sounds familiar, that’s probably because it is. Devil’s Due shares so much DNA with Rosemary’s Baby that it may as well be a remake. But where Polanski’s film was a chilling masterpiece and an exercise in claustrophobia and insidious mind games, what we have here is more of an impotent Xerox; same plot but fewer scares and little of the atmosphere. Sure there’s the added bells and whistles of the faux found footage set-up that is handled fairly capably by fresh directing duo Matt Bettinelli-Olpin and Tyler Gillett, but it’s not sufficient to raise the film in any major way. The found footage genre has been literally done to death so much that it’s hard to find any real meat on its bones that hasn’t
Idris Elba couldn’t be further from his east London roots as he takes on the overwhelming task of embodying a figure so familiar. The film covers a lot of ground and races through from 1942 to his inauguration in 1994, thereby aging Mandela considerably. Inevitably, Elba gets quite grey and is required to age extensively with only a little help from the hair and make-up departments. Certainly, the technical ageing process is great, but it is Elba himself who brings the Mandela of recent years to life. Although faced with an incredibly daunting task, or perhaps because of this, Elba’s performance is superb. He creates a Mandela who is charismatic and someone who is easy to believe in. But it is not an image of a godlike figure, he is certainly not an ordinary man, but ultimately he is humanized and, in some cases, shown to be flawed. The president Mandela grows throughout the film and everything that happens moulds him into the icon he becomes. This is not without the influence of wife Winnie Mandela, played by Naomie Harris, whose performance makes this film a two man show. Her turn as the wife left on the outside, harassed by the government and
resorting to brutal violence in the streets is utterly heartbreaking. Her role requires not only physical ageing, but a huge development of character which is jaw-dropping to see on screen. She is engaging and terrifically powerful, and together with Elba’s Mandela creates a ‘two sides of the same coin’ approach to the difficult and horrifying situation unfolding around them. Unsurprisingly I never had a chance to meet Nelson Mandela, but I do know someone who did. According to her, the Mandela on screen did resemble the man she met in real life; an extraordinary man who fought for his whole life to change both South Africa and the world around him. A man’s life to which Justin Chadwick has created a moving and effective tribute in a well-meaning biopic, with stunning performances from its leading cast. It is by no means flawless, perhaps weighed down by the responsibility of committing this man to screen, and inevitably, given the time constraints, is only a fraction of this enigmatic man’s life. The result is an uplifting cinema experience which should be taken as a starting point rather than a definitive image of the man, Nelson Mandela.
Zoe Bennell
The Railway Man been picked off by the likes of The Blair Witch Project or Paranormal Activity. As such, all they can muster here is a lame hop and a skip through the clichéd tropes of the horror film cheat sheet. It’s the cinematic equivalent of cheap Ikea furniture; sure it does a half-decent job of standing up on its own and it looks fairly shiny, but you can’t escape the nagging feeling that there’s millions of others out there that all look just the same. The script too is work-manlike and clunky, sapping any real dread with leaden dialogue and hampered immeasurably by a totally nonsensical decision to give the game away so early in the film that come the half-baked conclusion you’ll be wondering why they even bothered at all. Not to knock it entirely though, the two main stars try their best and give reasonable performances with their woefully underwritten characters, particularly Allison Miller as the put upon devil mama who gets the lion’s share of the decent scares. Some of the set pieces, too, are fairly entertaining and freaky, even if you know you’ve seen them all done before. Summarising this film in short, it is ultimately a disappointing experience that is as hackneyed as it is flavourless. Thomas Shutt
B
ASED ON the autobiography of the same name, The Railway Man is the touching true story of Eric Lomax, a British soldier in WWII, who went away to war and never truly returned. Colin Firth is well suited and comfortable in the role of the endearingly gawky Englishman, which we are so used to seeing him in, but he is fascinating and evocative in conveying the anguish of a man paralysed by inescapable days spent in torture. Triggered by the attempts of his wife, Patti (Nicole Kidman), to connect with him and understand his past, Firth’s character struggles throughout to reconcile his need for revenge on his captors. Lomax is closed-off and gripped by harrowing memories pulling him from reality - represented cinematically with the use of flashbacks, suddenly cutting between the war many years ago, and the war Lomax continues to fight within his own mind. Unfortunately, perhaps as a byproduct of this narrative reliance on flashbacks, there is something unbelievable about the romantic element of the film, with little real basis for their love. Yet, the problem goes further than that; they seem too… cordial and dispassionate. They say all the right things to each other but I just didn’t buy it. Kidman is given little to work with in the role of Patti, serving more as a catalytic plot device for Firth’s self-reflective journey than as a developed and intriguing character in her own right.
Making these elements of the movie secondary is natural considering the subject matter, however. The film is, of course, more concerned with telling the story of unimaginable horror and trauma experienced by soldiers. Beaten, tortured, encaged and enslaved as prisoners of war. There were times when it felt brooding and indulgent, but just as it begins to drag; viewers are jolted awake by startling scenes of brutality towards young Lomax (Jeremy Irvine) and his comrades. While much of the cinematography is striking, punctuated by captivating wide shots teeming with dirty-faced, emaciated soldiers, for a war film, the music is underwhelming and uninspiring; a wasted opportunity. More effective, though, is the motif of counting and time. This permeates and adds another layer to the film; running from the very opening, of a tormented Firth muttering “Hickory Dickory Dock”, down to little moments, when all that can be heard is the counting down of a kitchen timer. Ultimately, though somewhat flawed, the film will win you over in sudden, brilliant images and in the final five breath-taking minutes. The Railway Man is a touching portrayal of the immense human propensity for heroism, emotional strength and forgiveness where seemingly impossible. This film is visually and emotionally compelling. This film is important.
Charlie Benson