Film Review: Last Cab to Darwin

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Last Cab to Darwin. Rated M (coarse language and mature themes). 124 minutes. Directed by Jeremy Sims. Screenplay by Reg Cribb and Jeremy Sims.

The collision between cultures and mortality is at the heart of this extraordinary film that features a career-defining performance from Michael Caton, and a fearless, break-through performance from Mark Coles Smith.

Last Cab boasts a cinematic luxury of riches, from Sims’ focussed and insightful direction of a near-flawless screenplay (adapted from Cribb’s play that was based on the true story of Max Bell) to Steve Arnold’s gorgeous cinematography, of which the Outback is the undeniable star.

Rex (Caton) is a taxi driver who has never left Broken Hill. When told he has only months to live, he decides to drive to Darwin where Dr Farmer (Jacki Weaver) is promoting the virtues of voluntary euthanasia, which was legal in the Northern Territory from 1995 until the law was overturned by the Commonwealth Government in 1997.

Leaving behind his mates, his dog, and the love of his life, Polly (a terrific Ningali Lawford-Wolf), Rex begins the long drive north, picking up drifter Tilly (Coles Smith) along the way. As Rex’s health suddenly deteriorates, a backpacking English nurse Julie (Emma Hamilton) joins them to ensure Rex realises his dream of a dignified death.

Of the many complex relationships explored, it is the unexpected one between the defeated, childless and single Rex and the irascible Tilly that is absolutely compelling. Tilly has an abundance of energy and self-destructive attitude, while the ailing Rex is more selective with what he says and why. The scenes they share in ‘the long grass’ are among the film’s finest, matched only by Tilly’s unforgettable charge along an airport runway when, for the first time in the cinema this year, I held my breath.

This review was commissioned by the West Australian Newspaper Group.

Film Review: Southpaw

Southpaw. Rated MA15+ (strong violence and coarse language). 124 minutes. Directed by Antoine Fuqua. Screenplay by Kurt Sutter.

Over the years, the world of boxing has been responsible for a collection of genre and generation defining performances. From Sylvester Stallone in Rocky (1976), Robert De Niro in Raging Bull (1980) and Hillary Swank in Million Dollar Baby (2004), the physically, mentally and emotionally gruelling and highly-disciplined world in which these modern day gladiators exist, has powered some unforgettable cinematic experiences.

In Southpaw, undefeated World Light Heavyweight champion Billy Hope (Jake Gyllenhaal) is beginning to struggle with the rigours of the sport. Billy’s wife Maureen (Rachel McAdams) is concerned that he is being hit in the face more often than he once was, and that their future together with daughter Leila (Oona Laurence) will be forever scarred by the head injuries he is constantly sustaining.

But when tragedy strikes at a glittering fundraising gala, Leila is placed into state care and Billy has only one way of recovering from the devastation. He seeks out the services of renowned trainer and ex-boxer Titus Wills (Forest Whitaker), who he hopes will help him win back both the championship and his beloved daughter.

Sutter’s central trainer/boxing star relationship suffers by comparison to Million Dollar Baby’s extraordinary Clint Eastwood/Hillary Swank combination, and Whitaker (who won the Best Actor Oscar for his performance as Idi Amin in The Last King of Scotland) gets nothing to sink his teeth into.

Fuqua’s (Training Day, The Equalizer) fearless, probing direction delivers some fantastic in-the-moment and in-your-face, literally, sequences. But even with Gyllenhaal’s towering performance as the deeply-flawed Billy, Sutter’s (Sons of Anarchy) surprisingly unadventurous screenplay struggles to shine in the long shadow of its vastly superior siblings.

This review was commissioned by the West Australian Newspaper Group.

Film Review: Mr Holmes

Mr Holmes. Rated M (mature themes). 104 minutes. Directed by Bill Condon. Screenplay by Jeffrey Hatcher. Based on the novel by Mitch Cullin.

Just like the recent Far from the Madding Crowd, but without the literary pedigree, comes this exquisite, contemplative and multi-layered film about a restless, confused and impatient Sherlock Holmes (Ian McKellen) who is facing the end of his days.

In his novel A Slight Trick of the Mind, Cullin’s masterstroke was to place one of the world’s most extraordinary thinkers and problem solvers on the cusp of his own mortality, and Hatcher’s adaptation and Condon’s (The Twilight Saga: BreakingDawn, Dreamgirls, Kinsey, Gods and Monsters) astute and beautifully considered direction, account for the engrossing story perfectly.

It is 1947, and haunted by the outcome of what would be his final case, Holmes returns to his Sussex farmhouse home, where he is cared for by his dutiful, if somewhat resentful, housekeeper Mrs Munro (Laura Linney). Her remarkably mature for his age young son Roger (Milo Parker) is curious about the beehives Holmes tends on the property, as much as he is fascinated by the increasing mental and physical deterioration of his mother’s famous charge.

Concurrently in flashbacks, woven together exquisitely by editor Virginia Katz, the story takes us back to the tragic circumstances of his final, unsolvable case involving Ann (Hattie Morahan) and her husband Thomas (Patrick Kennedy), who are grieving the loss of their two newborn children. The story also takes a less-interesting detour to Japan, where Holmes’ desperate hunt for a miracle cure for his failing mind and body finds him in the ruins of Hiroshima.

The performances from a uniformly outstanding cast are superb, with McKellen, Linney and young Parker in particular, managing to make even the slightest heart-beats of domestic drama feel utterly compelling.

This review was commissioned by the West Australian Newspaper Group.

Film Review: Trainwreck

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Trainwreck. Rated MA15+ (strong sex scenes, sexual references and coarse language). 125 minutes. Directed by Judd Apatow. Screenplay by Amy Schumer.

Amy Schumer’s rise to stardom has been one of the most satisfying creative journeys to watch in recent times. Her television series for Comedy Central, Inside Amy Schumer, catapulted her to fame in the US, and Trainwreck marks her cinematic debut in the company of Apatow (producer of Bridesmaids and Get Him to the Greek).

Apatow specialises in taking edgy and politically incorrect comedic talent out of the relative confines and safety of the television studio and onto the big screen. But there is a huge difference between something that works in punchy, rude, bit-size segments and the demands of a two-hour feature-length film, and it is only a particular kind of talent that can successfully make the leap.

Similar talents, such as Melissa McCarthy and Rebel Wilson, have survived the transition – maintaining the rage against all the polite tolerance with which we are expected to accommodate even the most suspect ideology. In Schumer’s case, it is the tired old romantic comedy formula that eventually takes both her creative ingenuity and her breath-taking appetite for bone-baring honesty and unpopular truths, prisoner.

It’s not that Trainwreck isn’t funny, because it is, and Bill Hader’s (Fear in Inside Out) good doctor Aaron is the perfect foil for relationship-phobic Amy. Basketballer LeBron James is fabulous as himself, and an unrecognisable Tilda Swinton is a treat as Amy’s boss, Dianna.

Trainwreck’s flaw is its presumption that our innate individuality needs to be compromised to the point where we are no longer free to be ourselves. And while that might be a worthy aspiration for some, the previously subversive Schumer’s self-sacrifice to the formulaic banality of it all can only be described as a cop-out.

This review was commissioned by the West Australian Newspaper Group.