As young British intelligence specialist Katharine Gun in Official Secrets, Keira Knightley tries to stop an illegal war when she receives a mind-blowing NSA e-mail in the 2003 lead-up to the invasion of Iraq that might as well have been titled "Blackmail Help Wanted."
Alarmed to find the United States requesting Britain's assistance in gathering dirt on members of the UN Security Council that they could then use to force those representatives to vote in favor of the war in the Middle East, the previously unassuming, twenty-something translator knows she can't just sit back and watch her country begin the march toward an unjust war.
Bound by the Official Secrets Act, which makes it illegal to disclose the intelligence she comes across at her job, Gun risks everything when she leaks the memo through an intermediary to the prominent British newspaper The Observer, and becomes a whistleblower in the process.
A fascinating true story that — perhaps for obvious reasons — received little to no mention in the United States, Rendition and Eye in the Sky director Gavin Hood's Official Secrets had all the makings of a successful political drama, which makes this drearily shot and dully paced end result all the more disappointing.
An ordinary woman thrust into an extraordinary situation who let her conscience be her guide and stood firm even when the government threatened her family, Gun is an admirable figure both in real life and on paper. And that is precisely why it's such a shame that she's turned into a one dimensional placeholder for political speak onscreen. Revealing very little about Gun as either a woman or a spy, although the usually stellar Knightley excels during a few brief moments of speechifying, far too often she sleepwalks throughout Secrets in a woefully underwritten role.
In fact, not knowing exactly what to do with the everywoman hero at the heart of the film, Official Secrets only springs to life when it changes points-of-view away from Gun. Illustrating the ways in which it might’ve worked better as a thriller, we find ourselves completely caught up when the film focuses on both the trio of newspapermen at The Observer who published the shocking front page story just seventeen days before the U.S. invaded Iraq and the human rights lawyer who eventually took Gun’s case.
Trying to hit all the high points as a faithful chronicle of events without building any real connection to the actual architects behind the action (except in one nerve-wracking scene where Gun tries to track down her husband when retaliation by the government hits close to home), this workmanlike effort plays best as a cinematic equivalent to Cliffs Notes.
Leaving the cast floundering with an emotionally staccato script by Hood alongside husband and wife team Sara and Gregory Bernstein, which was based upon based upon Thomas and Marcia Mitchell's 2008 book The Spy Who Tried to Stop a War, Official Secrets lacks both the humanism that drew us into Hood's politically driven Rendition as well as a strong narrative arc.
A nonetheless eye-opening and still timely saga that — from a historical perspective alone — is sure to spark the curiosity of American viewers who are largely unfamiliar with Gun's actions, regrettably there's nothing about Hood's interpretation that elevates Official Secrets beyond the level of an average, interchangeable made for premium cable movie you're likely to see at home on Saturday nights.
Like the pet that found its way into your home that you wonder how you ever lived without, have you ever stumbled on a book when you needed it the most and thought that it was written especially for you?
The power of books to unite and inspire us is at the heart of director Mike Newell's lush adaptation of the 2008 number one New York Times bestselling novel, The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society by Mary Ann Shaffer and Annie Barrows.
No stranger to ensemble pictures or literary adaptations given his work on Four Weddings and a Funeral and Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire respectively, in Guernsey (which is largely set on that very Channel Island), through the use of both flashback and dialogue, Newell and company breathe fresh life into the 1940s period movie while showing us a side of WWII largely overlooked onscreen.
Adapted by a trio of talented scripters, including Don Roos, Kevin Hood, and Thomas Bezuchua, all of whom worked on it at different stages, Guernsey centers on Juliet Ashton (Cinderella and Mamma Mia sequel star Lily James), a London based writer who tries to keep up a good front while dealing with the stressful after effects of World War II in 1946.
With half of her time devoted to book readings and apartment hunting with her best friend and publisher Sidney (Matthew Goode) and the rest spent dining and dancing with her dashing American GI beau, Mark (Glen Powell), Juliet’s daily routine is shaken up for the better when she receives a warm and insightful letter from a farmer from Guernsey named Dawsey Adams (Michiel Huisman).
Having come across her name and address in one of her old Charles Lamb books, Dawsey asks Juliet where he could perhaps track down more of the author's work for his eponymous book club, which he and a handful of other Islanders had created out of necessity when they were caught out after curfew by German soldiers who took over Guernsey during the war.
Initially forced after their run-in to keep up appearances with the club, eventually the small group of friends and neighbors found themselves welcoming both the escape from the realities of war and conversational debate that each literary meeting delivered.
Fascinated, after she sends Dawsey the book he’d been searching for and a letter of her own, the two correspond back-and-forth a short while before Juliet impulsively writes back once more. Inviting herself to their book club meeting, Juliet kisses her bewildered boyfriend goodbye and catches a ship to Guernsey before she can change her mind or Dawsey says no.
Thrilled to have a real writer in their midst, over the course of an evening of lively Brontë discussion and a taste of potato peel pie, Juliet discovers there's much more to the story of the literary society than meets the eye.
Becoming fast friends with the group (including her smoldering pen pal), Juliet extends her stay, determined to locate the society's missing founder, Elizabeth (Jessica Brown Findlay) and learn more about exactly what happened on the island during the war.
Unable to film on location in Guernsey due to both the logistical nightmare of sending cast, crew, and equipment back-and-forth across the English Channel as well as overhauling the island to make it look like the 1940s, Newell's talented behind-the-scenes crew – especially production designer James Merrifield, costumer Charlotte Walter, and cinematographer Zac Nicholson – transport the viewer nonetheless by filling the frame with exquisite detail.
Instantly inviting and richly atmospheric, Guernsey recalls the warmth and ensemble camaraderie of Chocolat. Featuring four actors from Downton Abbey in key roles, Guersney benefits from the chemistry of its cast, not only in terms of its romantic leads (in the love triangle of James with fellow up-and-coming movie stars Huisman and Powell) but especially within the Guernsey book club itself.
While we do have more questions about some of the film's supporting characters – chief among them regarding Penelope Wilton's Amelia – that I’ll eagerly look to the book to answer and resolve, by working in a compelling wartime mystery, the film's screenwriters remind us that this is much more than a traditional love story.
Boasting a boldly feminist heroine (exceedingly well played by Lily James) and a moving storyline, Guernsey caps off a terrific summer of female oriented Netflix fare with one of the streaming giant's strongest features.
As savory as it is hearty, while avid readers and book club veterans are sure to stream the literary adaptation on day one, in spite of its clunky title, The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society is sure to become a word-of-mouth hit before long.
Inspiring us to scour our bookshelves for that one book that brings a world full of possibilities to life as well as find a Guernsey-like group of our own to be with, connect with, and read with, Newell’s admirable feature is as in love with ideas as it is romance.
It's rare just to think of superheroes as people who simply play dress up like paper dolls donning capes or masks. For, instead of entertaining little girls, they decide to clean up the streets as efficiently and often as brutally as possible to begin where the thin blue line ends and go places the cops can't follow.
Although comic book (or graphic novel) mythology is filled with characters who were bit by radioactive spiders, born on distant planets, or find themselves gaining super powers when some sort of scientific or medical experiment goes wrong-- when you truly think about superheroes, you realize that essentially they're an existential breed altogether. After all, they are the ones who decide what's right and wrong for themselves, what they can live with, and what they're willing to do to make the world the way they'd like to see it.
While some refuse to kill and others exclusively assist the police, the self-proclaimed superheroes in director Zack Snyder's Watchmen all just donned the masks on their own and throughout the film, only one truly has super powers in the most classical sense-- namely via a radioactive accident gone horribly wrong. And because people come from all walks of life, we get quite the varied assortment in this extremely faithful adaptation of co-creator and illustrator Dave Gibbons' and writer Alan Moore's originally twelve part work published by DC Comics.
Simply put-- these aren't the superheroes championed in the previous generations who decorated themselves in the colors of the American flag and clearly understood right and wrong.
In the world of Watchmen-- we're shown a nightmarish dystopia of a New York City only a few minutes away from nuclear demise as the minute hand inches closer to the twelve of the doomsday clock. In a chaotic mid 1980s society where Richard Nixon has been president for five terms-- instead of traditional caped crusaders, we're presented with the remaining and/or second generation members of a group of crime fighters who began prior to the World War II era as the Minutemen. Following their initial fame, they've gone through several incarnations as they aided the government, halted the Vietnam war until eventually the world turned on the "Masks" and forced them into retirement.
While some ended up insane and/or dead-- just moments into the film, we're presented with the oldest original member, the Comedian (Jeffrey Dean Morgan) who is a bit of both. Morgan's Comedian is possibly only funny to the most twisted of souls. Unapologetic, vicious and coldblooded, his sociopath has been the go-to man to do our govermenment's dirty work (including being the true shooter of JFK) and personally not above attempting to rape his true love and shooting a pregnant girlfriend in the head.
Upon the film and graphic novel's opening, the Comedian is quickly forced out of a New York penthouse window and lands on the dark, slimy street, with a trickle of blood left on the yellow smiley face button he wore on his robe. Everything we need to know about the Comedian is given away pretty quickly as the film opens with him puffing on a phallic cigar and while it's hard to care about such a monster, his death nonetheless sets the chain of events that follow.
After we're given a brief overview of the history of the Watchmen during an extraordinary title sequence set to the music of Bob Dylan (just one of many phenomenal artists used throughout the soundtrack) that seems as though it was literally pulled right from the shiny pages of the original DC Comic, we encounter the remaining Watchmen including our film noir inspired psychopathic narrator Rorschach (a mind-bogglingly good Jackie Earle Haley).
Defying the bill that outlaws masked vigilantism, the unstable Rorschach-- convinced that Comedian's death is part of a larger conspiracy to kill off the superheroes-- checks in with all the rest. Dutifully keeping a journal of the events that reveals much more than his forever evolving ink blot filled mask does-- Haley's Rorschach is the most fully developed character of the lot and the one whose back-story not only hits us the hardest but helps provide a much clearer picture of the work.
As for the rest of the Watchmen-- only one has publicly revealed his identity in the form of the proclaimed "world's smartest man," and uber tycoon and entrepreneur Adrian Veidt (Matthew Goode). Veidt continues to work with the only one who truly possesses extraordinary powers-- the radioactive, forever nude, glowing blue man Dr. Manhattan (Billy Crudup)-- a former physicist who survived a freak accident that has now made him apathetic to people and obsessive about his scientific work in avoiding doomsday.
The superhero form of a shut-in whose very existence has scared nations into cooperating with the United States-- Manhattan's relationship with his younger, long-time live in girlfriend Laurie Jupiter (Malin Ackerman) is strained as he becomes much less focused on her and withdraws into his work.
Jupiter-- who had joined the Watchmen in order to please her glamorous pin-up mother Silk Spectre (Carla Gugino) as the second Spectre is still in close contact with her former colleague, Dan Dreiberg (Haley's Little Children co-star Patrick Wilson), in a role as dry as his name implies) as he now appears to be an aimless, impotent, over-the-hill boy scout who has succumbed to his retirement that consists of grabbing beers with his predecessor and reminiscing about the past.
Dan's crush on Laurie and her mutual flirtation seems obvious from the first time they're on-screen together but the film that celebrates the neuroses and deviance avoids the idea of a predictable courtship, reminding us that the only way they can be fully satisfied is to return once again to the masks in an exploitative, over-the-top sex scene that's only outdone by the gallons of blood and guts that spill out gleefully in this sadistic R rated comic come to life.
By squeezing in so many characters and a highly complex plot that takes a revisionist view of American history (yet one whose pessimism about the end of time seems sadly timely once again given the senseless wars and violence around the globe)-- Synder's production of Watchmen is a nearly three hour bloated mess that combines some truly spectacular visual tricks and musical cues and bogs it down with characters that never feel fully alive.
Far more interested in going for the same shock that Robert Rodriguez employed in adapting Frank Miller's Sin City in endless gore yet minus the ability Rodriguez had to tell a firmly cohesive story that would fully intrigue those who haven't read the graphic novel-- while it may be incredibly faithful to the work, the translation leaves us unmoved and uninspired by its unwillingness to engage us.
Dazzling with artistry as an attempt to keep us interested-- although more often that not via the wrong reasons with shocking outbursts of blood-- mostly I felt detached from a bulk of the film's characters who seemed less like the fully-formed psychologically challenging individuals promised and more like just shallow, one-dimensional cartoons come to life.
While of course, my reaction would probably have been different had I read the work beforehand, however, much like Catherine Hardwicke's tepid version of Twilight-- ultimately you have to separate the entities of the film from its source material and unless you've read the twelve part graphic novel, you're sure to feel like you're missing out on just what made the book so revered.
It has often been dubbed "the most celebrated graphic novel of all time" and one that was deemed so un-filmable that it took roughly fifteen years to get it made. Granted of course, Watchmen is sure to do great business opening tonight as both a regular theatrical feature and an IMAX experience on an unprecedented number of screens for an R-rated movie-- avid devotees will be able to fill in all the holes and under-developed characters based on their intricate knowledge of the comic.
However, the rest will probably do much better to pick up illustrator Gibbons' and author Moore's multiple-award winning graphic novel which became the first and only one to win not just a Hugo Award but also be included in "Time Magazine's 2005 list of 'the 100 best English-language novels from 1923 to the present.'"
The despite the potential dollar signs dancing before Warner Brothers' eyes and Billy Crudup's indication that he's contractually obligated to appear in a sequel should one be made-- despite Morgan's jokes that the fans would kill 'em-- director Snyder said he wouldn't be involved in another work be it a prequel or sequel since it goes against their intention for the film.
Furthermore Gibbons explains that it was never conceived as a film in the first place with a set-in-stone twelve issue series being his and Moore's intention. And by ultimately presenting audiences with an all-flash for cash work that lacks the requisite emotional arc-- perhaps maybe they would've been better off if they listened in the first place to the original author Alan Moore who publically stated he didn't want to be involved in a film.
To put the psychopaths onscreen without delving into exactly what makes them tick seemed excruciatingly sadistic at times and makes an ultimate payoff on Mars in the third act seem far less Earth-shattering than perhaps the filmmakers had hoped. And while I'd never suggest a sequel-- maybe the best thing for the series other than perhaps leaving it alone on the page, would've been presenting it in installments since it will take more than a simple cheat sheet or pre-film chat with a devotee to give the movie the same impact for one who's never flipped through the pages of the twelve-part book.
Thus in the end, ultimately, it answers its question of "who's watching the Watchmen," by keeping us watching for nearly three hours and hoping that somehow it will all gel together or we'll feel connected in some way but unfortunately, we leave the way we went in-- not entirely certain just who's underneath those masks but even worse-- not sure we actually care to find out in the first place.
As much pressure as there is when making a period film to keep contemporary viewers interested, extra hurdles are added when the period film is based on one of the most critically acclaimed books of the twentieth century. And the anxiety doubles when it was also adapted into what most devotees assumed was the definitive take on the source material in a wildly popular, classic twelve-hour British miniseries. In taking on Brideshead Revisited, instantly one runs the risk of being labeled a copycat as well as going against conventional wisdom of “if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it,” but by employing celebrated, award-winning screenwriters Andrew Davies (Mr. Adaptation himself having penned updated versions of some of literature’s most beloved works) and Last King of Scotland scribe Jeremy Brock, the filmmakers hoped to tackle that problem head on. However, in telling the story of the poor underdog Charles Ryder (Match Point’s Matthew Goode) who gets tangled up in the lives and loves of the wealthy but ill-fated Sebastian Marchmain (Ben Whishaw) and his headstrong sister Julia (Hayley Atwell), the results are mostly mixed.
Sumptuously photographed and with amazing attention to detail, including filming in Yorkshire’s awe-inspiring tourist attraction, the Castle Howard which had first doubled for the Marchmain’s home Brideshead in the prior television adaptation, Becoming Jane director Julian Jarrold’s sophisticated film is sure to rake in Oscar nominations in the fields of art and costume design as well as a probable nomination for Emma Thompson as the devoutly Catholic, domineering Marchmain matriarch.
And while no doubt one has to admire the intelligence of such a gorgeous work, especially in its daring summer release opposite mindless comedies and special effects driven superhero films which will definitely come as a much needed quiet treat for film reviewers everywhere to heap praise onto the movie, I felt like it kept viewer’s emotions at an arm’s length. Never shaking the museum feel that proves so daunting for period works-- much like another critically loved classic book turned Miramax film, The Wings of the Dove, I had a hard time becoming invested in this rather icy tale. This was especially difficult when considering that—while Charles is positioned as its hero—frequently, he’s the most unlikable character onscreen and often we’re left wondering just whom is using whom when it comes to his dealings with the Marchmains. While one never has to unconditionally love a lead character, the question then becomes whether or not you feel invested in the person’s plight and with Charles, most of the time, I didn’t.
Ultimately, I felt that that while it’s a beautiful looking work bolstered by its talented cast (Whishaw, Goode, and Atwell no doubt have excellent careers ahead of them), I sensed a barrier between myself and the production, which I can only liken to flipping through a photo album with a friend who’s just returned from a trip and can’t wait to show you hundreds of their photos. While the anecdotes and visuals are amusing enough, we realize we’re missing the full effect which was no doubt best experienced by reading Evelyn Waugh’s original novel and/or in the lengthy lauded miniseries.
This being said, I applaud the bold decision to bring the homosexual and extramarital infidelity plots to light and overlap the previously three separate tales in changes that the production notes explain were approved by the Waugh foundation. However, despite a great respect for the brilliance of Davies, I couldn’t help but imagine that this Brideshead adaptation may have been best served by brining in a more contemporary styled yet equally literary and thematically similar writer in the form of The Hours scribe Michael Cunningham. In addition to The Hours along with the brilliant A Home at the End of the World and even in his unsuccessful but imaginative interpretation of the novel Evening, Cunningham routinely explores love triangles and the struggle to come of age while reconciling one’s own desires within their immediate environment and familial obligation. Thus, being that the Brideshead filmmakers made the decision to “out” Sebastian in a greater way than in previous versions as well as try to fight against the Masterpiece Theatre trappings of most period films, by bringing in someone who isn’t usually lumped together alongside the usual suspects of the highbrow British fare, they may have breathed some much needed life into a claustrophobic and slightly overly long adaptation.
Although he’d discussed and worked on his long-time pet project, the screenplay for The Lookout with directors including Sam Mendes and David Fincher, it wasn’t until Academy Award nominated screenwriter Scott Frank (Little Man Tate, Get Shorty, Out of Sight) talked Michael Mann out of directing the film that he realized that he wanted to do the job himself. Explaining his creative mid-life crisis to Elvis Mitchell on KCRW’s The Treatment (see below: available as a free podcast on iTunes), Frank shared that he was in danger of getting bored and wanted the new challenge of controlling a set. Cinematically inspired by the visual look of 2005’s Capote along with the classic films of William Wyler (most notably The Best Years of Our Lives) and Dog Day Afternoon, Frank took the character of a young man with a brain injury, derived after a friend of his suffered a similar injury and decided to place him in a heist film.
Joseph Gordon-Levitt who is quickly becoming one of Generation Y’s most impressive actors with turns in Mysterious Skin (that seems to have inspired Ledger’s Brokeback performance) and Brick, worked on his role as Chris Pratt for roughly one year before shooting the film. As the film opens, it’s nearly black and white in an impressive visual sweep as Pratt speeds along a deserted rural road along with his girlfriend, best friend and best friend’s girlfriend all dressed in prom attire. Feeling that ridiculous and dangerous sense of invincibility and as Mitchell and Frank explained, the idea of “self destruction” meets the “American sense of entitlement,” Pratt switches his headlights off to show off the fireflies and ultimately gets into a car accident so horrifying that the two occupants in the backseat end up dead, his girlfriend is left maimed and he is left a shell of the person he was—the star hockey player whom the town constantly reminds was once great. Picking up a few years later, we meet Pratt as he struggles with everyday tasks, sequencing difficulties, and memory issues—everything from extensive labeling of items throughout his apartment to remind him to shower with soap, to writing down important things in a little notebook, he spends his days trying to learn how to live with his condition, rooms with a blind man named Lewis (Jeff Daniels) and works as a night janitor in a bank. Lewis serves an important function in a film that has the danger of becoming far too grim as the comic relief and Frank seasons the film with humor and surprises that turn what begins as sort of a younger version of Memento, brimming with more tragedy, into a fairly complicated heist piece as Pratt is befriended by Gary Spargo (Matthew Goode) and Isla Fisher (Luvlee) who the audience and Lewis realizes are really using the young man as a pawn to get inside the bank. Literary but without pretension, the film seems to play out with a prologue and epilogue as noted on The Treatment with as Frank calls a two act as opposed to a three act structure consisting of his trademark as a screenwriter, which according to Mitchell is his “divided character” struggling with identity and self-destruction while another character (Lewis) serves as the voice of common sense.
With a nearly forgettable camera, The Lookout is stylistically impressive and aided by deft classical direction by Frank who uses clever blocking to keep his leading man in corners to heighten his sense of alienation and loneliness as everyone else dominates the young man, he told Mitchell that it proved challenging to make sure that Chris Pratt was a reactive character rather than an easier passive character and indeed he turns out to have a satisfying ark, as he must fight his condition and use the skills he struggles with to try and get himself and Lewis out of an increasingly complicated situation that audiences know will lead to foul play. Excellent, clever and unfairly dismissed by audiences—as of this review and research it received a national critical ranking on Rotten Tomatoes as 87% fresh (or positive), it’s a nice twist on an old genre and an even more impressive entry in the disability genre for its accurate, unapologetic portrayal of life with a head injury without once falling into an overly sentimental television drama or gimmicky film mold. Frank, like his leading man Gordon-Levitt, is definitely someone who just keeps getting better with each new cinematic venture.
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Walking Movie Encyclopedia at Film Intuition; 3-Time National Award Winning Scribe; Film Reviewer; "Watch With Jen" Podcast Host; Screenwriter; Movie Discussion Host; BA in Film Studies & Communication.
