Here is the cover for my new dystopian sci-fi anthology, Love and Other Punishments, which is out this Friday (2nd June).
I’ll say more about the novellas and short stories in this compelling collection this Friday. In the meantime, to pre-order a copy of the Love and Other Punishments anthology, click here (for Amazon in the US), or here (for Amazon in the UK). If you have scruples about Amazon, digital versions are also available from Smashwords here.
First, credit where it is due: Halle Bailey nails Ariel in The Little Mermaid. She sings brilliantly and is a winning presence both in the sea and on land. Frankly, all those nitwits blithering on social media about Black mermaids not existing (a rather baffling argument) and the Ariel-must-be-a-redhead brigade (equally baffling, considering the Hans Christian Andersen source text contains no such stipulation) need to be told, absolutely and emphatically, to take a long walk off a short pier.
Everything else about this live-action karaoke cover version of a remake is an exercise in bland pointlessness. Disney’s recent obsession with milking its back catalogue for because-we-can CGI-smothered live-action remakes has mostly generated films found under the dictionary definition of superfluous. Animated classics like The Lion King and Beauty and the Beast, and various others have all been dragged through this miserable process, and The Little Mermaid is the latest victim of such flagrant corporate greed.
For those who have been living under a rock (or under the sea), the plot involves the titular mermaid, the headstrong Ariel. She is forbidden by her father, the Sea King Triton (Javier Bardem) from going to the surface but defies his wishes when she rescues Prince Eric (Jonah Hauer-King) from a shipwreck. Having fallen in love with him, she longs to return to the surface, but after Triton’s tough love attempts at discouraging her backfire, Ariel makes a bargain with the Sea Witch Ursula (Melissa McCarthy) to become human for three days. If she can obtain the kiss of true love from Eric within that time, she’ll get to remain human. If not, well, Ursula has her own agenda.
On its own merits, this isn’t terrible, but compared with the classic 1989 animated original, this live-action take feels like a reheated leftover. Mind you, calling director Rob Marshall’s remake “live-action” is likely to get me reported under the UK Trade Descriptions Act. Very little in this film is real, and much of the CGI has a distinctly uncanny valley flavour. Some sequences are dark and difficult to follow, making me want to dub this The Little Murkmaid. Also, Sebastian the crab, Flounder the guppy fish, and Scuttle the seagull, just look wrong when rendered this close to photo-realistic. Frankly, they and indeed much of the visual effects design have a distinctly AI-generated look. It’s all very off-putting.
Yes, Alan Menken’s outstanding songs and score from the 1989 film are present and correct, but I prefer the original recordings. The visual accompaniment is less engaging too, especially in key numbers Under the Sea and Kiss the Girl. Thanks to Bailey, Part of Your World remains stirring (the iconic crashing wave shot is faithfully and effectively recreated), but there’s also a smattering of new songs, courtesy of Lin-Manuel Miranda, none of which are memorable or needed, except to pad out the running time.
The original film runs for a trim 83 minutes. This runs for 135 minutes. Extra stuff spliced into the beat-by-beat recreation includes more scenes with Eric designed to make him less of a one-dimensional love interest. For instance, he collects stuff from under the sea, just as Ariel collects stuff from the land found in shipwrecks (oh look, they’re perfect for each other). He’s also a natural born explorer who doesn’t care for stifling royal duties (oh look, they’re perfect for each other). We also learn he wasn’t born into royalty but was adopted by his mother, the Queen (Noma Dumezweni). None of this adds anything of great dramatic heft.
On the other hand, we do get more backstory with Triton. His wife was killed by a human, which is why he gets rather shirty with Ariel after he learns of her crush on Eric. I suppose this makes his animosity with the human world a bit more founded on experience, but again, it adds little to the overall scheme of things. Ariel’s older sisters aren’t giggly airheads this time, and each govern a region of the sea, but again, so what? In the meantime, we lose fun things like Sebastian’s run-in with a deranged French chef (a brilliant slapstick sequence in the original). Sebastian’s status as a musical maestro is also rather lost in the mix.
The “poor unfortunate souls” cursed to Ursula’s purgatory, and their eventual deliverance, is also absent. Were they considered too bleak to be rendered in live-action? Perhaps this shouldn’t matter, but the reason I found myself thinking about what is missing is because nothing of value had been added. Indeed, to my mind, the only reason for making The Little Mermaid in live action would be to make something radically different, ignoring the 1989 film entirely. Perhaps a version that stuck more closely to Andersen’s sublimely melancholy and cruel text. Can you imagine Guillermo Del Toro’s The Little Mermaid? That would be of genuine artistic interest. Then again, perhaps we’ve already had Del Toro’s version in The Shape of Water, and I doubt Disney would ever do something that radical.
In the supporting cast, I suppose some people might find Awkwafina’s gender-swapped Scuttle amusing, and I rather like Art Malik’s take on Eric’s older friend and companion, Grimsby. But now I’m slightly clutching at straws because I don’t want to be too negative. Again, this isn’t a bad film, per se. However, there isn’t a single good artistic reason for it to exist.
In conclusion, the excellent Halle Bailey aside, when it comes to The Little Mermaid, you’re better off sticking with the original film. Seeing the new one has made me want to rewatch it, so no prizes for guessing what I’m about to fish out of my DVD collection.
UK Certificate: PG
US Certificate: PG
Sometimes, all one needs from a film is 90 minutes of Nazis getting their comeuppance in brutally bloody style. Finish director Jalmari Helander delivers these genre goods at a surprisingly low budget, with major value for money onscreen and cult status all but assured. Sisu isn’t going to change the course of cinema, but it is a lot of violent fun for those partial to this sort of far-fetched nonsense.
As an onscreen prologue explains, the title is a Finnish word that has no direct English translation. It essentially refers to a kind of white-knuckle courage against the odds when all hope is lost. It’s an appropriate title, as the protagonist Aatami Korpi (a suitably scarred, brooding, almost entirely non-speaking Jorma Tommila) has this quality in spades, much to the dismay of chief Nazi antagonist Schutzstaffel Bruno Helldorf (Askel Hennie).
The plot? In 1944, during the Lapland War, Aatami prospects for gold in the remote wilderness with only his horse and dog for company. After uncovering a rich vein of nuggets, Aatami transports the gold with the intention of depositing it. But the nearest bank is hundreds of miles away, and in the meantime, the Nazis are carrying out a scorched Earth policy in the north of Finland.
Aatami encounters a Nazi convoy including a tank and trucks carrying female prisoners. Shortly afterwards, their commander Bruno discovers he’s transporting gold. A lethal game of cat and mouse ensues as Bruno tries to exterminate Aatami and steal his gold, but naturally, the Nazi has bitten off more than he can chew. Aatami turns out to be a legendary Finnish commando who lost home and family in the Winter War with Russia. He went on a vengeful rampage as a “one-man death squad”, killing hundreds of Russians. Now the Nazis are about to seriously regret tangling with him.
The rest of the film is a melee of knives, bullets, bombs, landmines, artillery, and other assorted weaponry, all deployed to imaginatively grisly effect in Aatami’s brutal slaughter. An archetypal indomitable hero, the pick-axe wielding Aatami proves a stubbornly nimble and lethal old man who simply will not die, outwitting and infuriating his increasingly depleted foes at every turn. At the same time, the women taken prisoner start to see hope and the potential for payback amid their miserable predicament (it is implied they’re being hauled around to be raped from time to time). It’s not a spoiler to say the tables are turned in immensely satisfying fashion.
This is a stripped-down, no-nonsense, gruesome action film that makes fine use of Lapland locations. Helander helms with flair and imagination, deliberately aping everything from Leone-Morricone spaghetti westerns to Tarantino bloodbaths. It’s a great romp of bonkers ultraviolence, despite the sheer lunacy. Obviously, Aatami should have been dead many times over, but he just keeps coming. Perhaps he’s an ancestor of John Wick.
Nuance and depth? Not here, but it isn’t required. Sisu proves a deliciously deranged delicacy of cathartic Nazi payback cinema.
UK Certificate: 15
US Certificate: R
The plot of Hypnotic contains more holes than a Swiss cheese factory and makes about as much sense as an education law passed by the Florida legislature. Not only is it derivative of numerous superior thrillers and sci-fi films, but it also features a glum and unconvincing Ben Affleck in the lead, and by-the-numbers direction from the once visually interesting Robert Rodriguez. Given the sheer level of idiotic twists on display, this ought to have made significant inroads into guilty pleasure territory, yet a po-faced lack of humour makes it fall flat even in that respect.
Affleck plays cop Danny Rourke, whose daughter Minnie (Hala Finley) was abducted by a mysterious kidnapper. Said kidnapper claimed to have no memory of his actions, and Minnie was never recovered. A grieving Danny is now separated from his wife and having compulsory police counselling in between bouts of criminal chasing. In true cop cliché style, “the job” is the only thing keeping him sane.
Whilst attempting to thwart a bank robbery, Danny encounters a powerful hypnotist (a wasted William Fichtner) who apparently has mind control powers and uses innocents to perform robberies for him. The investigative trail leads to another hypnotist, Diana (Alice Braga), who agrees to assist Danny. That’s about as much of the plot as I feel I can reveal without getting into spoilers, but quite honestly, even if I did, the flimsy house of cards, or row of dominos, upon which this story is constructed hardly warrants such scruples. The big reveals are so frequent and contrived that they don’t feel like twists. Merely consistent narrative ineptitude.
This kind of hokum can sometimes be great fun, but Hypnotic doesn’t generate much suspense. In between humourless brooding from Affleck, chemistry-free interactions with Braga, and imagery blatantly ripped out of Inception, this proves dramatically limp at every turn, give or take a brief moment of tension in a scene involving scissors. The rest of the time, the film is a Borg-like genre collective consciousness assimilating everything from The Manchurian Candidate and The Parallax View to The Matrix and The Truman Show. Hypnotic it ain’t.
As a postscript, this film provides the greatest argument yet that there ought to be a law against mid-end credits scenes. This monumentally misjudged extra all but negates the bulk of the final act (which is already weapons-grade stupid). Perhaps this is to set up a sequel, but I doubt it. It’s a final middle finger to an audience that has had its intelligence insulted for the previous 93 minutes. Mind you, although dumb as a bag of hammers, at least the film is short.
UK Certificate: 15
US Certificate: R
Over the past few weeks, I’ve been polishing short stories and novellas to include in a planned new anthology release. Akin to my earlier collection, Infestation: A Horror Anthology, this one won’t be horror but dystopian science fiction. The anthology will be entitled Love and Other Punishments, after one of the stories, previously published on Medium.
The volume is about 80,000 words long. Over half (around 50,000 words) will be new, exclusive material, consisting of two novellas and a short story never seen before. The remaining short stories and novellas have previously been available to Medium subscribers.
Most of these novellas or short stories explore one aspect of futuristic technology, but otherwise takes place in relatable settings a short way into the future. The stories aren’t bogged down in scientific theory but are much more about the potential repercussions of these speculations on humans. Some of them are akin to potential technologies presently being discussed in places like the World Economic Forum.
Here are the titles, plus a little about each story.
The Thought Improvement Plan (exclusive to this volume) – In a world where brain monitoring implants are standard employment practice, a man and woman conduct a secret workplace romance against company policy, finding devious ways to fool their thought supervisor by providing false brain metrics.
Driverless (exclusive to this volume) – When terrorists hack the Driverless Vehicle Network, threatening to crash cars unless their demands are met by the British government, a civil servant begins to suspect there may have been an inside job.
The Traffic Warden (previously available on Medium) – A curious IT technician discovers the truth about traffic wardens in this surreal, sinister, darkly comic conspiracy thriller.
Bleed With Me (exclusive to this volume) – In a world where ghost sightings are found to be “quantum contamination” or “memory bleeds” that can be easily disposed of via scientific means, a quantum contamination cleaner becomes secretly obsessed with the unsolved murder of a young woman whose memory bleeds occupy his home.
Sweet Dreams (previously available on Medium) – A journalist investigates a tech company manufacturing nightmare suppressing nanotech for children. “Sweet Dreams” refers to the technology involved, which the journalist comes to believe may be linked to an increase in suicidal tendencies among young people. Her investigations uncover conspiracies, cover-ups, and eventually murder.
Apocalypse 1983 (previously available on Medium) – In a parallel universe, a Soviet Air Force officer holds the fate of the world in his hands.
Love and Other Punishments (previously available on Medium) – In a fascistic future London, a widowed salesman begins to suspect he has repressed memories when he encounters a mysterious woman.
I shall be announcing a publication date and revealing a cover image very soon. Watch this space.
It’s worth acknowledging upfront that Ari Aster is an admirably visionary director, whose uncompromised artistic vision results in singular work. I loved Midsommar (2019), even though a more amusing title might have been The Wicker Man: He’s Just Not That Into You. Despite owing a debt to Robin Hardy’s seminal 1973 masterpiece of folk horror, Aster managed to make his film stand in its own right.
On the other hand, I couldn’t understand the effusive praise for Hereditary (2018). Although brilliantly directed and acted, the script couldn’t make up its mind whether it wanted to be psychological horror, ghost story, possession story, or Satanic panic. Somewhere along the way, I stopped caring about the characters or finding it scary.
Aster’s ambitious new film Beau Is Afraid left me with a new clutch of frustrations. It concerns the eponymous Beau (a one-note but effective Joaquin Phoenix), a depressed man introduced with his therapist (Stephen McKinley Henderson) discussing an impending visit to Beau’s overbearing mother Mona (Patti Lupone). Beau subsequently returns to his run-down apartment in what looks like a particularly seedy area of a city plagued by absurd levels of violence and crime. The altercations and fights in the street outside his squalid apartment building are so preposterously chaotic that they obviously invite the question of how many of these lunatics are products of Beau’s fear-driven imagination.
A series of catastrophic, anxiety-inducing events ensue, again, some of which may not really be happening. Beau undertakes a peculiar Oedipal odyssey both physically and inwardly, which is best experienced without spoilers. Some of this is darkly hilarious. Occasionally it is suspenseful and disturbing. But a lot of it is needlessly protracted, wilfully arch, and bewildering in ways that provoke derision rather than thought.
There are some interesting supporting characters. Beau encounters a kindly but tightly wound couple, Roger (Nathan Lane) and Grace (Amy Ryan). Grieving their dead son, who died in military service, they’ve also taken in their son’s veteran friend Jeeves (Denis Menochet), whose PTSD becomes a serious danger to Beau. Another danger manifests in the form of Roger and Grace’s resentful and manipulative teenage daughter Toni (Kylie Rogers).
Other characters of note encountered by Beau include the kindly Penelope (Hayley Squires), who is part of a rural travelling theatre troupe that likes to blur the line between the play and the audience. There’s also an important character from Beau’s past called Elaine (Parker Posey, with a younger iteration played by Julia Antonelli) who crops up at a key moment. Flashbacks develop that part of the story, and also fill in gaps concerning Beau’s immensely troubled relationship with his mother (Zoe Lister-Jones plays the younger version of Mona).
The surreal tone teeters on the brink of insufferable and ultimately crosses it, whilst occasionally introducing flashes of brilliance (such as a deftly deployed animated sequence). I was reminded (in good and bad ways) of Charlie Kaufman, Todd Solondz, David Cronenberg, Leo Carax, Luis Buñuel, David Lynch, Darren Aronofsky’s bonkers but interesting mother! (2017), and obviously Greek mythology. For the most part, this film held my interest.
Unfortunately, it builds to a melodramatic climax that veers beyond Freudian male self-loathing into the deeply silly. The monstrous sexual metaphors in a sequence involving an attic prove an outlandish bridge too far, and the finale is a much-ado-about-nothing damp squib that will leave many audiences muttering: “What the hell did I just watch?” Given that the film is three hours long, that sentiment will likely prove particularly irritating.
And yet, despite being a sprawling, deeply flawed, pretentious, self-indulgent panic attack of a film, a significant part of me can’t help but admire Beau Is Afraid. I’d rather see a labour of love from an artist running flat out, risking failure but putting their heart and soul into something they believe in, than watch yet another algorithmically machine-tooled sequel or reboot. Aster has made exactly the film he wanted to make, without a single commercial concession, even if it amounts to little more than, as he describes it, “an elaborate Jewish joke”. Good for him. Some people will consider this a masterpiece. I don’t, but there were certainly masterful moments along the way.
In short, I’d recommend this to serious cineastes who are curious in a what-Aster-did-next sort of way. Other audiences should approach with extreme caution, and don’t say I didn’t warn you.
UK Certificate: 15
US Certificate: R
More of what is referred to in the film as violating “the laws of God and gravity”, this latest instalment in the interminable Fast and Furious franchise has the dubious distinction of being the first in a trilogy that will supposedly bring the series to a close. The key word there is “supposedly”, because if these keep making money, I daresay Dominic Toretto (Vin Diesel) and his gang of street-racing, hijacking, spy-agency-assisting, petrolheads will continue to regularly fill our cinema screens with CGI-smothered vehicular stunts beyond the next two films to emerge after Fast X.
It seems pointless to try and explain the plot, considering there isn’t so much a story as a retconned hook so contrived it could have been generated by AI. Said hook comes in the form of scenery-chewing, flamboyant Dante Reyes (Jason Momoa), son of the baddie killed in the fifth film. Obviously, Dante is out for revenge, and before you can have a barbecue and growl “family”, he’s setting up Dominic and his chums to take the fall for some nasty shenanigans in Rome.
None of what follows features 1) wit, 2) intelligence, 3) clever plotting, or 4) any kind of emotional connection whatsoever to the characters. To which I hear a chorus of protest: “Who cares? We’re just here for the spectacular car chases.” Well, so am I, but I think it’s rather nice to have these things too. That way, one can actually care a smidgeon about the people in the cars, and perhaps even suspend disbelief a little better at the aforementioned violation of gravity. I confess I did slightly giggle during one scene involving a muffin (no spoilers), but when that’s the highlight of a film as obscenely overbudgeted as this ($340 million, apparently), I fail to understand why perhaps just a little bit more of that cash could have been spent on the script.
Mind you, even if these characters had Shakespearean depth, I doubt anything could paper over the sheer lunacy in some of the stunts and chases contained herein. Yes, director Louis Leterrier does his best to inject energy and excitement, but it’s pretty much as realistic as a Road Runner cartoon at this point. Nothing feels real. Nothing feels physical. Nothing feels dangerous. The Dukes of Hazzard and The A-Team had more gritty heft than this. At least this doesn’t feature someone driving a car into space (as seen in the last instalment), but nothing comes remotely close to the kind of genuine peril felt by the chases in vastly superior films such as these.
Along with Vin Diesel, the usual gang are present and correct in various capacities — Michelle Rodriguez, Sung Kang, Tyrese Gibson, Ludacris, Jason Statham, Nathalie Emmanuel, John Cena — with a few other cameos from former Fast and Furious alumni. These include Charlize Theron, Helen Mirren, Rita Moreno, Brie Larson, and a couple of others I won’t spoil, who turn up at the cliffhanger ending and mid-credits scene, respectively. Not that anyone’s performance is particularly noteworthy. Nor can I ever remember who is connected to whom or why. In my memory, the whole series blur into one big smudge of CGI, give or take that accidentally poignant bit at the end of the seventh, intended to honour the memory of Paul Walker.
In summary, fans of the series can expect more of the same from Fast X; plenty of weightless, insubstantial action mayhem, a barbecue, lots of blithering about “family”, the obligatory camera-in-leer-mode shots of female backsides at street races, platitudinal pseudo-street wisdom from Dominic (“No one starts at the finish line”), nonsensical plot twists, and by the end, a bit of a headache. Those who are sick of this series will doubtless avoid it like the plague. Personally, I was as deeply indifferent to this one as all the others.
UK Certificate: 12A
US Certificate: PG-13
Photo by Ermia Ramez on Unsplash
Here’s another of my increasingly infrequent Medium updates. These may become even more infrequent in future, as I dip my tentacles into additional writing projects. By now, you know the basics: I’m on Medium, so if you want to read my many exclusive articles and short stories published there (and find other writers you also enjoy), you need a Medium subscription. This is worth doing, in my not remotely unbiased opinion. If you wish to subscribe, can I humbly ask that you please do so via this link, as it means I financially benefit from your subscription. Thank you in advance to anyone who subscribes.
If you aren’t subscribing, but still wish to check out my work on Medium, please note that you get three free reads per month. Here are some of my recent articles from the past couple of months (or else you can check out the short stories and novellas I have published on Medium via this article, if you’d prefer).
Thriller Suspense vs Horror Suspense
Getting to grips with genre variations for keeping readers on the edge of their seats.
My Ten Favourite Film Composers
Mighty maestros of movie music scoring.
At a decade shy of a century, the iconic giant gorilla still thrills.
No matter how many times I watch them, these classic films never fail to provoke guffaws.
My Ten Favourite Adventure Films
My selections from a slippery genre that’s all but impossible to define.
I’ll leave it there for now, but do keep an eye on Medium as I’ve lots of terrific material coming up there over the next three months. Thank you again for supporting all my writing endeavours.
There’s something particularly joyful about films that make you feel better coming out of the cinema than you did going in. Are You There God? It’s Me, Margaret has that extra-dimensional feel-good factor. I’ve not read the Judy Blume book, so I have no point of comparison, but the film is a lovely piece of work; a warm, funny, poignant, bittersweet coming-of-age tale, smartly adapted and directed by The Edge of Seventeen director Kelly Fremon Craig.
Even without having read the book, I can see why this story has timeless appeal. In New Jersey circa 1970, twelve-year-old Margaret (Abby Ryder Fortson) faces the challenge of a new school, making new friends, attraction to boys, and the onset of puberty. Or rather, the lack of onset, as so far, not much has happened. Even though she is undecided on matters of faith, since her father Herb (Benny Safdie) is Jewish, and her mother Barbara (Rachel McAdams) is from a Christian background, she regularly prays to God, begging for him to get her period so she doesn’t feel so out of place with her contemporaries.
Brilliantly performed by Abby Ryder Forston, Margaret is a wonderful, hugely likeable protagonist. Her worries and hang-ups are universal, and not exclusively female. For instance, when asking why she’s never met her mother’s parents, Margaret is horrified to learn they disapproved of her marrying someone Jewish and disowned their daughter. On the other hand, she has a great relationship with her grandmother on her father’s side, Sylvia (a brilliant Kathy Bates). Encouraged by her kindly teacher Mr Benedict (Echo Kellum) to make religion the topic of her school project, Margaret investigates Judaism and Christianity, trying to find God in both, but winds up more confused than ever, especially as he doesn’t seem to be answering her prayers about getting her period.
This could have easily slid into mawkishness and sentimentality, but strong performances, a great script with plenty of laughs, and smart, subtle direction elevate this into something special. Hans Zimmer contributes a nostalgic music score, and speaking of nostalgia, there are several well-chosen pop songs from the time used to good effect. Yet at the heart of it all is a believable, heartwarming mother-daughter relationship, with two excellent central performances. I’ve already mentioned Fortson, but McAdams is equally worthy of special praise, especially in emotional scenes concerning her estranged parents.
All in all, this is a gem of a film, and one of the best I’ve seen this year. I give it top marks. Do go and see it.
UK Certificate: PG
US Certificate: PG-13
This is the second film I’ve seen in as many months dealing with the nuances and repercussions of close male friendship in childhood. Recent memories of Lukas Dhont’s Close came to mind whilst watching the opening movement of The Eight Mountains. This film’s idyllic depiction of childhood friendship in the Italian Alps, circa the summer of 1984, contains similar imagery; two boys joyfully running in meadows, climbing rocks, swimming in lakes, and getting up to various other boyhood high jinks. The halcyon imagery, set against truly spectacular mountain landscapes brilliantly shown off by cinematographer Ruben Impen’s use of Academy Aspect ratio, shares a DNA with the dreamlike visuals in the opening scenes of Dhont’s film.
Of course, the two films are radically different, with the narrative in Close taking a deeply upsetting turn. Here, the story is gentle and unhurried, unfolding over four decades. It details the ups and downs of the friendship between Turin-based Pietro, who visits the mountains with his mother and hard-working father in the summertime, and the local Bruno, who stays with his farmer aunt and uncle. Impressed by Bruno’s outdoorsmanship which significantly exceeds that of his own son, Pietro’s father offers to let Bruno live with them in Turin so Bruno can attend high school; an offer which at which Bruno’s father (never seen onscreen) takes offence. He insists Bruno come and work with him on a building site instead.
Dismayed at being separated from his friend, Pietro becomes embittered towards his father. But he reconnects with Bruno many years later, and the pair rebuild their friendship, along with a shack overlooking a spectacular Alpine valley, since neither has any work on at that point. Further plot developments ensue, involving Pietro’s father, the two men’s respective romantic entanglements, and Pietro’s attempts to find himself on solo trips to the Himalayas.
There is much to admire in writer-directors Felix van Groeningen and Charlotte Vandermeersch’s adaptation of Paolo Cognetti’s book, but I wasn’t quite as enamoured as some critics have been. Yes, it’s certainly a good film, and engaging throughout, but flawed by overlength and a niggling sense of being a little bit less profound than it thinks it is. Some of its metaphors are a bit too obvious. For instance, one involving a crevasse on a glacier worked rather well, but another, involving a replanted pine tree, felt a bit too on the nose. Whether these flaws originate in the source material I couldn’t say, having not read the book.
On the other hand, performances are excellent. Lupo Barbiero, Andrea Palma, and Luca Marinelli, and Alessandro Borghi, Cristiano Sassella, and Francesco Palombelli play the young, adolescent, and adult versions of Pietro and Bruno, respectively. Understatement, subtlety, and nuance are the order of the day. The near-magical bond of their friendship is brilliantly portrayed, and genuinely moving. The staggeringly beautiful imagery is another major plus, so if you’re going to see this at all, do see it at the cinema.
This isn’t a film for those looking for fast-paced thrills, but if you have the patience for it, The Eight Mountains gets under the skin in a poignant and affecting way, despite my aforementioned reservations.
UK Certificate: 12A
US Certificate: PG-13
Simon Dillon Books 