Tag Archives: Greta Gerwig

Top Ten of 2013

Frances-Ha-film-still-31. Frances Ha (dir. Noah Baumbach, 2013, US) – A sensitive look at the ever-increasing pangs of quarter-life crises. An immaculate twinning of star Greta Gerwig and director Noah Baumbach, who each line the precipices of contemporary cinematic visions of stilted adulthood and angst. A beautiful monochrome love letter to New York City by way of the French New Wave, Woody Allen style. A perfect film that spoke to me in innumerable ways.

Breaking-Bad_32. Breaking Bad – Season Five, part 2 (x8) (Cr. Vince Gilligan, 2013, AMC, US) – Completing both a perfect season of television and arguably one of the finest TV dramas ever created, these 8 episodes were a sensational concoction of the show’s finest ingredients, blended together to produce a thudding, devastating curtain close for television’s finest anti-hero: Walter White, whose journey from Mr. Chips to Scarface reaches its poetic conclusion.

Standout episode: Ozymandias (s05xe14, dir. Rian Johnson): Perhaps one of the most heartbreaking, shocking and unrestrainedly shattering episodes of television ever made. Johnson extends the show’s cinematic roots and delivers something that is at once a turning point for every character involved and a treatise on the slow-ebbing consequences of deceit.

28-before-midnight3. Before Midnight (dir. Richard Linklater, 2013, US) – One of the many jewels in the series’ crown is the searing, incredibly attuned and humanistic writing and delineation of its characters, and Midnight upholds this and remains as true to its own canon as it is to the reality it so believably upholds. Yet, where the opening two chapters were entrenched in illusory romanticism (especially Sunset), the tone here is faintly darker as the simmering themes and various contexts of Jesse and Celine’s conversations take on restless, even drastic edges. Mature topics such as sex, parenthood and careers are explored, as are the permutations that lay, gestating, in between. (Reviewed for The Hollywood News)

12-years14. 12 Years a Slave (dir. Steve McQueen, 2013, US) – Subjecting the art gloss of previous films Hunger and Shame to a more formal model, McQueen’s latest is a towering achievement; an unremitting and equally gut-wrenching combined vision of survival and the hideousness of an evil that continues to stagnate in America’s past.

3NO9_StarredUp5. Starred Up (dir. David Mackenzie, 2013, UK) – A murky concoction of Alan Clarke-esque grit and Shane Meadows’ stark realism, Mackenzie’s latest is a pinned-backed and rough-edged prison drama that takes an unflinching look at institutionalisation, paternity, the unwritten hierarchies of prison and how destructive lifestyles could be seen as strikingly hereditary. With a vérité, fly on the wall approach and superb naturalistic performances (especially from Jack O’Connell and Ben Mendelsohn, playing father and son), this may be the stand-out British film of 2014 when it’s released in March.

leaves-upstream-color-reelgood6. Upstream Colour (dir. Shane Carruth, 2013, US) – Just as his first project, Primer, saw Carruth shunning established filmic principles in his approach to implementing the science fiction genre, his latest is more of an innate symphony of ostracism sung from a deeply idiosyncratic voice; an ambitious, inventive and hypnotically contemplative entity wholly beyond compare. It is within a lack of empathy for, and simultaneous defiance of, narrative codes and genre conventions that make this one of the most challenging and markedly unclassifiable films to emanate from American independent cinema in quite some time. (Reviewed for The Hollywood News)

blue-jasmine-cate-blanchett17. Blue Jasmine (dir. Woody Allen, 2013, US) – However patchy his 21st century offerings have been, Allen’s tenacious film-a-year approach has paid dividends in numerously rewarding and productive ways, though its arguable that none have been as achingly, bitterly human, or indeed contemporary, as this. Through the prism of a Tennessee Williams-style outline, Blue Jasmine is another notch on a long list of strong female-led films for the seasoned filmmaker, one that – instead of merely adopting caricatures – retools them to mount a portrait of self-indulgence, privilege and deceit gone crushingly sour. It’s a weighty and progressively devastating drama with a chilly conclusion; an ending where the lyrics of the film’s title track, Blue Moon, ring wholly, hauntingly true for all involved. (Reviewed for The Hollywood News)

don_apartment38. Mad Men – Season Six (x13) (Cr. Matthew Weiner, 2013, AMC, US) – Essentially answering the question posed to central character Don Draper at the close of season 5 (“Are you alone?”), this sixth season makes atonal lurches from one unexpected plot curve to the next as it burrows further into Don’s shadowy cerebral cortex. A murkier tone – mirroring the tumultuousness of 1968 America – may make this one of the show’s weaker seasons, but a tepid season of Mad Men is still one of the best shows on television, and this makes for a memorably hectic prelude to season seven’s two-tiered series finisher.

Standout episode: The Better Half (s06xe09, dir. Phil Abraham): An unlikely tryst between Don and ex-wife Betty, sharing screen time for the first time since season 4, further sheds light on Don’s doomed approach to companionship, devotion and fidelity.

Spring-Breakers-promo06-780x5209. Spring Breakers (dir. Harmony Korine, 2012, US) – Embracing the mainstream whilst simultaneously challenging its codes, Korine’s latest is his most fully realised and accessible film to date; a provocative study of chaos that refuses to sugarcoat the ugliness of what it both admires and reproaches. This could so easily have become what it has been advertised as: a cheap and tawdry perusal through its subject matter, using bikini-clad protagonists as exemplars of the accoutrements of present-day youth. Yet it isn’t merely a straightforward depiction of Girls Gone Wild-inspired carnage; quite the contrary in fact. It digs deep into the psyche and inner-workings of the central friendship, the allure of bad behaviour and self-destructiveness, and how the choices these girls make – and the impact of Britney Spears – reverberates and has repercussions.(Reviewed for Take One)

gimme-the-loot-gimme-the-loot-02-01-2013-4-g10. Gimme the Loot (dir. Adam Leon, 2012, US) – The feature debut of resident New Yorker Leon, this is an authentic and charming story of desperation and the desire to leave ones mark in a modern city that doesn’t particularly care for the protagonist’s outwardly diminutive voices. (Reviewed for CineVue)

Honourable mentions:


Blackfish (dir. Gabriela Cowperthwaite, 2013, US) – Searing and emotionally exhausting, what Cowperthwaite’s documentary lacks in analytical edges it more than makes up for in the sheer weight and comprehension of its central thesis: the destructive ignorance of SeaWorld and animal captivity.

Girls – Season Two (x10) (cr. Lena Dunham, 2013, HBO, US) – Small screen auteur Lena Dunham’s excellent, ultra-hip series gets darker and more mature as it goes on, growing into an already well established groove whilst – unlike its protagonists – developing its sense of self.

Standout episode: It’s Back (s02xe08, dir. Jesse Peretz): A superb rug-puller that exemplifies Dunham’s prowess as an actress, storyteller and sculptor of authentic characters with authentic problems.


Southcliffe (x4) (dir. Sean Durkin, 2013, UK) – Another harrowing offering from Durkin, who transcends and repackages his cinematic presence into this startlingly effective British miniseries, which focuses on a town’s devastation brought on by a spate of shootings. A staggering portrait of manifested frustration and grief, stuffed with excellent performances.

Standout episode: Sorrow’s Child (e03, dir. Sean Durkin). Actor Anatol Yusef effectively plumbs the depth of his character, Paul’s, anguish, building to rousing, hair-raising final moments soundtracked by Otis Redding.


Museum Hours (dir. Jem Cohen, 2012, Austria) – A lucid, dreamy dissertation on the simultaneous intimacy and implacability of life, death and the art of simply looking.


After Lucia (dir. Michel Franco, 2012, Mexico) – Released straight to DVD here in the UK, this is a gruelling portrait of bullying and the evils of youth that deserves a wider audience, if not for the relentless torment of its protagonist then for the spectacular performance from the actress who plays her, Tessa Ia. (featured on Best of 2012 list)

(A list dedicated solely to 2013 UK releases can be found on HeyUGuys’ Movie Bloggers poll)


Notes on: To Rome With Love

(Woody Allen, 2012)

A typically all-star cast assemble to imbalanced effect in Woody Allen’s 2012 offering To Rome With Love, a jovially lightweight attempt at revisiting the anthology approach to filmmaking which brought his Every Thing You Always Wanted to Know About Sex * But Were Afraid to Ask (1972) a reasonable amount of acclaim. TRWL is not as consistent or consistently funny as that film (an early paradigm of his retrospective ‘early funny’ period), but it does see Allen bringing himself back into a version of the present day (no matter how disparate the four timelines appear to be) after Midnight in Paris’ (2011) obsessions with the past. It’s all very twee and inoffensively enjoyable, combining passé ruminations on life, sex, love, marriage and celebrity with yet another picture postcard aesthetic idealisation of a great city: this time the titular Rome.

Making a career out of condensing and replaying his auteurist idols’ thematics (and occasionally their cinematographic attitudes) for his own body of work – though fitting them with his own metaphysical concerns and sense of humour, this is Allen sculpting another paean to his cinematic poster boy Federico Fellini, his own Roma (1972) so to speak.

Giving himself his first role since 2006’s docile Scoop, Allen stars in the film’s strongest story as Jerry, husband to Phyllis (Judy Davis, in her fourth Allen film) and father to Alison Pill’s Hayley, an American tourist whose visit to Rome is complemented by a relationship-cum-proposal to Italian pro bono lawyer Michelangelo. Initially reticent towards his prospective son-in-law’s family and their communist sensibilities, Jerry – an unhappily retired director of flamboyant opera, blissfully ignorant to his critics back in New York- becomes enamoured with Michelangelo’s father Giancarlo, a mortician who has the vocal range of an operatic wunderkind but only whilst in the shower. Jerry’s infatuation with bringing Giancarlo’s gift to the stage results in some curiously unorthodox (for Allen, at least) visual jokes that see a range of well-received productions centred on a showering Giancarlo, who scrubs and sings his heart out.

Elsewhere Alec Baldwin stars as John, a celebrated American architect who may or may not be linked to Jack (Jesse Eisenberg), a student studying architecture in the Eternal City, who he bumps into seemingly at random. Inexplicably, John quickly becomes something of a mercurial figure, a wise Jiminy Cricket-like voice of reason quick to give relationship advice to Jack, his girlfriend Sally (a wasted Greta Gerwig) and her sultry friend Monica (Ellen Page), a pseudointellectual bisexual who channels the more caustic women in Allen’s back stock (Christina Ricci in Anything Else, etc). A similarly unanswerable plot is the one that sees Roberto Benigni’s lowly office drone suddenly becoming a star, hounded day and night by paparazzi who strive on uncovering his personal idiosyncrasies (“What did you have for breakfast?” “Do you wear boxers or briefs?”). Much like all the narrative ‘tricks’ that numerously appear in Allen’s high concept works, from The Purple Rose of Cairo (1985) to the aforementioned Midnight in Paris, the mysterious and playful concepts depicted in these two segments go unexplained, with the emphasis and much of the comedy (when it arrives) being on their effects on the characters rather than on originations.

Finally, in a variation on Fellini’s The White Sheik (1952), Alessandro Tiberi and Alessandra Mastronardi play Antonio and Milly respectively, a newlywed couple whose honeymoon in Rome immediately gets off on the wrong foot. Losing her way whilst searching for a hair salon (a sequence that sees Allen’s camera taking roving sweeps around the emblematic sites, bolstered by DP Darius Khondji’s translucent cinematography), Milly finds herself stumbling from a film set to the bed of its leading star to the arms of an armed robber, whilst Antonio falls prey to mistaken identity and has to pass off trashy hooker Anna (Penélope Cruz) as his newlywed to a gaggle of stern aunts and uncles. Easily the most disposable footnote in an altogether piecemeal film, this section highlights a lack of footing – in conjunction with the other three’s tighter plotting – whilst showing a square drawing of prostitution; Cruz’s Anna (a sobering flipside to her Oscar winning María Elena in Vicky Cristina Barcelona (2008)) is far removed from Allen’s previous and altogether more rounded prostitute characters, namely Mira Sorvino’s Academy Award winning Linda Ash in Mighty Aphrodite (1995) and even Hazelle Goodman’s Cookie in Deconstructing Harry (1997), his only prominent role for a black actor.

Fragmented, distractible and in need of a more imaginative edit, To Rome With Love is lesser Woody Allen that exists in a lesser Allen epoch, a stage where every instalment in his healthy catalogue is given an unfair amount of critical conjecture. This does meander around a loose spine, the graphic equivalent of his process of sorting through and marrying together his draw full of notes and ideas (a work process shown in Robert B. Weide’s Woody Allen: A Documentary (2011)), but save for dated and laboured quips (and an ill-placed effects shot), there is a pay-off to the scattered mishmash.