Talking Movies

April 7, 2017

Table 19

Anna Kendrick stars in a slightly unusual romcom that is notable for being more amiable than the usual Hollywood fare.

Kendrick is Eloise, the ex-maid of honour, who is still attending her best friend’s wedding despite being ditched from the bridal party after breaking up with the best man Wyatt Russell, brother of the bride. To avoid awkwardness she is relegated to the back of the room, Table 19. And as she planned the wedding Eloise knows just what a humiliation this is: seated next business acquaintances of the bride’s father, Craig Robinson and Lisa Kudrow, a nanny, June Squibb, a ‘successful businessman’ who is clearly nothing of the sort, Stephen Merchant, and a frustrated teenage lothario, Tony Revolori.

The Breakfast Club is an obvious point of reference for Table 19, and there is an undeniably goodhumoured spirit to proceedings that counts for much. But the presence of the Duplass brothers as original screenwriters makes you wonder what this movie was envisioned as in earlier drafts, especially as a striking camera movement when Eloise dances with a stranger and the best man sees it almost feels like a leftover from a draft where the real time wedding was being imagined as one single long take.

Table 19 isn’t hilarious, but it is more thoughtful than one would imagine and hides its grand romantic gesture with some glee.

3/5

Advertisements

March 6, 2014

The Grand Budapest Hotel

the-grand-budapest-hotel-international-trailer-0

Wes Anderson’s second period film in a row is a considerable contrast to the charmingly nostalgic Moonrise Kingdom, and that’s not necessarily a good thing…

To begin at the beginning, a young woman visits the grave of a writer. Wait, no, that writer (Tom Wilkinson) before he died recorded a talk about the background of his most famous novel. Hang on, when he was a young writer (Jude Law), [now we’re getting somewhere] he stayed in the Grand Budapest Hotel. There he met ineffectual concierge M. Jean (Jason Schwartzman). Wait, no, M. Jean didn’t matter, what mattered was that the young writer met Mr Moustafa (F Murray Abraham), who told him about the glory days of the hotel in the 1930s. Back then, [finally, real progress!] Moustafa was known as Zero (Tony Revolori), and he was the lobby-boy to legendary concierge M. Gustave (Ralph Fiennes). Gustave was completely devoted to rich, widowed, amorous guests such as Mademe D (Tilda Swinton, after she wrecked the picture in her attic.) So much so that when she unexpectedly died after leaving the hotel he was summoned by her staff Serge X (Mathieu Amalric) and Clotilde (Lea Seydoux), to hear her lawyer Kovacs (Jeff Goldblum) read the will – which left a priceless painting to Gustave, much to the fury of Mademe D’s son Dmitri (Adrien Brody), and as he had the scary thug Jopling (Willem Dafoe) on retainer that meant Gustave was well-advised to run for his life, despite the protestations of policeman Henckels (Edward Norton); who remembered Gustave’s abundant kindness to him as a boy. And after that, reader, things really got complicated.

Anderson’s film is bursting at the seams from sheer busyness, and the film thus lacks emotional depth even as it boasts under-used actors (Harvey Keitel, Saoirse Ronan), a deliberately unnecessary Chinese box of narratives, and a sequence in which Anderson tests how many times the same gag can be made in succession; even by Bill Murray and Bob Balaban; before an audience grows restive. His regular production designer Adam Stockhausen’s archly mannered sets are the most artificially coloured he has rendered for Anderson to date. Think about that.

Anderson showcases an unexpected flair for blackly comic suspense but there’s an odd and draining mean-spiritedness to this film’s gruesomeness. Fiennes’ dialogue makes no sense for the setting, lurching as it does from a gentlemen quoting poetry to an R-rated Oddball from Kelly’s Heroes, but it does make for some spectacular laughs. Anderson is apparently honouring the terrifyingly obscure author Stefan Zweig, and the worst thing I can say about this film is that after seeing such loving homage I have no desire to read Zweig’s work.

The Grand Budapest Hotel is an impeccably mounted film, but it unavoidably disappoints because it doesn’t come close to The Darjeeling Limited for depth or Moonrise Kingdom for whimsy.

3/5

Create a free website or blog at WordPress.com.