Film Review: Bridge of Spies

Bridge of Spies. Rated M (mature themes, violence and coarse language). 141 minutes. Directed by Steven Spielberg. Screenplay by Matt Charman, Ethan Coen and Joel Coen.

It is 1957, the height of the Cold War between the Soviet Union and the United States of America. Increasingly desperate to learn of the other’s intentions, the great foes create vast espionage networks, resulting an atmosphere of absolute fear, paranoia and suspicion.

Based on a true story, Bridge of Spies begins with FBI agents arresting Soviet spy Rudolph Abel (Mark Rylance). Needing Abel to at least be seen to be getting a fair trial, the US government appoints easy-going insurance lawyer James Donovan (Tom Hanks) to represent him. Donovan is expected to simply go through the motions, but as he becomes more involved in the case, he seeks Abel’s acquittal, making him an enemy of the American people.

Meanwhile, in the skies over the Soviet Union, US Air Force pilot Francis Powers (Austin Stowell) is shot down and captured while he is flying a spying sortie, photographing the lie of the land. The CIA decides that Donovan is their man to travel to Germany and negotiate a prisoner exchange: Abel for Powers.

Production Designer Adam Stockhausen (The Grand Budapest Hotel, 12 Years a Slave) expertly recreates the classic look and feel of the 1950s, and the film’s striking authenticity is due to his vision, and the equally superb work of Spielberg’s frequent collaborator, Cinematographer Janusz Kaminski.

Strangely, for a film about some of the greatest threats to the survival of the human race, there is hardly a thrilling or dangerous moment to be had. Instead of being an edge-of-your-seat political thriller with so much at stake, Bridge of Spies coasts along on something like cinematic autopilot until, two hours and twenty minutes later, it ends precisely as you expect it to.

This review was commissioned by the West Australian Newspaper Group.

Film Review: War Horse

War Horse. Rated M (war violence and themes). 146 minutes. Directed by Steven Spielberg. Screenplay by Lee Hall and Richard Curtis. Based on the novel by Michael Morpurgo and the stage adaptation by Nick Stafford.

Steven Spielberg’s grand, career-long study of the qualities of redemption – mostly, as in Schlinder’s List, based on the sins of others – reaches a particular kind of zenith with this magnificent film about a young man’s life-long bond with his horse, Joey. Having witnessed its birth, Albert Narracott (a singularly impressive debut from Jeremy Irvine, pictured) soon finds himself breaking-in the yearling – and the long first act of War Horse is a fastidious telling of the formation of this extraordinary relationship, which culminates in a miraculous feat of farming. On the eve of World War I, Joey is sold to the British cavalry and a distraught Albert promises him that once the war is over, he will come and find him and bring him home.

Based on Mr Morpurgo’s novel and Mr Stafford’s stage adaptation for the National Theatre of Great Britain (now its fourth year of performances), Mr Hall (Billy Elliot) and Mr Curtis’s (Love Actually, Bridget Jones's Diary, Notting Hill) screenplay neatly accounts for the involving episodes from Joey’s life and manages to contain what might have been an unwieldy, rambling odyssey into a mostly captivating and emotional drama.

The work of the team of horse trainers – including Bobby Lovgren and Gold Coast-based Zelie Bullen – ensures that the four-legged stars (a total of fourteen horses were used to play Joey) are the absolute standouts. The astonishing sequence when Joey faces off with a tank before running for his life through the trenches and ending up in No Man’s Land rates as the cinematic sequence of the year – and could probably only ever have been brought to the screen by a master filmmaker and storyteller like Mr Spielberg and his frequent collaborator, cinematographer Janusz Kaminski (Saving Private Ryan, Schindler's List).

While it certainly over-cooks its ending, War Horse remains an incredible cinematic achievement – and a richly rewarding film experience you will remember forever.

This review was commissioned by the Geraldton Newspaper Group.

Film Review: Super 8

Super 8. Rated M (science fiction themes, violence, coarse language and drug use). 108 minutes. Written and directed by J J Abrams.

We’ve all experienced the misfortune of being trapped in a never-ending conversation at a party with the most boring guest in the room. You know the one: that person who bangs on for hours about every mundane possibility in their impossibly ordinary lives. But their big party trick is telling us a long-winded joke, with a punch-line that was never going to be worth the wait. And we dream of excusing ourselves before they start showing us holiday snaps or describing every detail of their kitchen renovations.

Welcome to the motion picture equivalent.

Perversely, given the talent involved, it is difficult to find more than a couple of moments of inspiration (or originality) in this seemingly interminable, muddled 108 minutes – such is Abrams clear intention to reference Steven Spielberg’s (credited as Executive Producer) back-catalogue of vastly superior films. An awkward air of self-reverential indulgence pervades practically every scene – not helped by the fact that the ‘kids making a zombie movie with a Super 8 camera’ premise provides the movie with its only points of charm and genuine engagement.

15 year-old Joel Courtney makes an impressive acting debut as young Joe Lamb, whose mother dies in a workplace accident at the beginning of the film, and who finds solace in doing the make-up for the film project and a burgeoning relationship with Alice (the excellent Elle Fanning). When ET’s cranky relative turns up to wreak havoc, the authoritative adults arrive (in typical Spielberg fashion) to spoil all the fun.

Abrams screenplay rolls out the ‘your childhood’s over now kids’ metaphors at a hundred miles an hour – of which the spectacular train crash in the middle of their film shoot is one great big thundering, over-produced clunker (topped only by the tank rolling through the playground and crushing the swings scene).

One good thing to come out of it all though, is that you’ll have a ‘DVDs I want to watch again’ list as long as your arm. At the top of my list is Rob Reiner’s coming-of-age masterpiece Stand By Me – which is precisely the film that Super 8 is trying so desperately hard to be. Regrettably, it misses the mark by a long shot.

This review was commissioned by the Geraldton Newspaper Group.