"Blade Runner 2049"

Like all right-thinking people, I consider Ridley Scott’s “Blade Runner” to be a masterpiece, having seen it in the cinema shortly after its initial release (in those pre-home-video days when films were occasionally given another chance on the big screen). Let’s face it – no great film (or novel or play) needs a sequel. Nevertheless, having been impressed (and baffled) by “Arrival”, I was keen to experience Denis Villeneuve’s take on the tale.

Ryan Gosling stars as a detective whose role, in a not entirely pleasant but high-tech future world, is to find and destroy rogue and obsolete androids. On a routine mission, he uncovers a mystery the solving of which may shed light on his own past.

The look of the film is impeccable (the cinematographer being Roger Deakins), the doomy soundscape powerful, and the presence of original screenwriter Hampton Fancher on the team ensures that no liberties are taken with the universe of the narrative. The performances are also excellent, Gosling suitably stoical, and late arrival Harrison Ford giving full rein to his patented “what the hell is going on?” expressivity, his raddled presence putting to bed one of the original film’s enduring mysteries.

Ryan Gosling and Harrison Ford

If the film has a real flaw, it is its length. During its 164 minutes, there are several over-long scene-setting sequences during which tension drains away. And while the theme – what it is to be human – is meaty enough, the fairly straightforward plot does not provide much for us to puzzle over; not necessarily a bad thing.

“Blade Runner 2049” is a fine, serious entertainment. Inevitably however, its impact is dulled by the fact that it is merely an adjunct to a classic. Like Danny Boyle’s “Trainspotting”, Scott’s film was a phenomenon; like Boyle’s “T2”, this is just another perfectly decent film.

"World Domination" / "Seanmhair" / "The Nether"

In a strange coincidence, the latest raft of plays I’ve reviewed for the British Theatre Guide all seem to tackle the dark side of sexuality. 

“World Domination”, the most recent A Play, A Pie and A Pint production to be co-produced by the Sherman, is about an Aberdeen housewife who sets up a bondage dungeon in her cellar; an enterprise which is disrupted by the arrival of her estranged younger sister. “Seanmhair” at The Other Room, another play which boasts a strong, all female cast, is the tale of an obsessive love which imprisons a woman from childhood onwards. Jennifer Haley’s “The Nether” at Chapter, examines the ramifications of “virtual” paedophilia. This last play in particular, an American piece which has been much produced over the past few years, raises some interesting and disturbing questions; a relatively rare example, in theatre, anyway, of science-fiction used to explore ethical and philosophical issues.

 

Louise Ludgate in "World Domination" (photo: Leslie Black)

"High Rise"

I can’t claim to be a particular devotee of the work of J.G. Ballard. The only novel I’ve read of his is the atypically autobiographical (and excellent) “Empire Of The Sun”; and my memory of his dystopian short stories is that they are very well executed, but creepy and cold. In this respect Ben Wheatley’s adaptation of “High Rise” is exemplary in its fidelity to the tone set by its original author.

Tom Hiddleston, bringing the dubious composure he brought to the BBC’s wonderful “The Night Manager” plays Laing, a physiologist, who moves into an upper-scale high-rise block apartment block in a large British city, and is implicated in events which lead to the already shaky infrastructure which exists deteriorating completely, apparently mirroring events in wider society. Luke Evans co-stars as his rebellious, slightly more proletarian downstairs co-resident; with Sienna Miller as the sexy upstairs neighbours; and Jeremy Irons as the Architect, who isn’t nearly in control of things as he likes to pretend.

The décor, cars, clothes, hair-styles and typefaces place us squarely in the drab 1970s, as does Wheatley’s directorial style, with its focus on brutalist architecture, its disjointed narrative, and the kind of clipped, dislocatory dubbing which calls to mind European art cinema of that era (Bunuel, Antonioni etc). Along with screenwriter (and co-editor Amy Jump), he creates an unsettling and unsettled atmosphere, with the escalating nightmarishness signalled from the very beginning.

Full of reliable, familiar faces (Reece Shearsmith, Elizabeth Moss, James Purefoy, Keeley Hawes), and with a soundtrack which cleverly repurposes Abba, the film is flawlessly executed, but also thoroughly unpleasant. This, I’m sure, is the filmmakers’ intention, as they “predict” the rise of Thatcherite amorality.

The look is remarkable, the performances flawless – “High Rise” is an artistic success in its own terms. It is not an experience, however, which I will want to revisit any time soon. An extra point for having “Industrial Estate” by The Fall play over the end credits, though.

"Star Wars" / "Peter Pan"

I can’t claim to be especially invested in the “Star Wars” universe over and above being grateful to George Lucas for helping to save the commercial cinema in the mid-70s. I’ve only watched the original trilogy once or twice, and bailed out of the second lot a few minutes into “Attack Of The Clones”.  My faith in J.J. Abrams, however – along with the ridiculous amount of media hype which would inevitably have resulted in plot spoilers – prompted me to take a chance on “The Force Awakens”; and I was not disappointed.

The story is something to do with the fate of a map pointing out the whereabouts of one Luke Skywalker, but that’s of little importance. Daisy Ridley and John Boyega are impressive as newcomers to the ways of The Force, with Oscar Isaac, Adam Driver and Domnhall Gleeson giving fine turns on various sides of the argument. And, of course, it’s good to see Harrison Ford and Carrie Fisher in the thick of the action. I even spotted the Daniel Craig cameo.

The screenplay is surprisingly funny, and the action and visuals are as beautifully orchestrated as one might expect, although if I’d known beforehand that the 3D was an afterthought, I might not have paid the extra. Still, it is well deserving of the fanboy praise, and will doubtless enthuse a new generation of cinema-goers.

No Christmas trip back to Stoke would be complete without a visit to the Regent Theatre to take in the panto. The double-act of Jonathan Wilkes and Christian Patterson (whom I last saw being threatening at The Other Room in Cardiff) this year brought us “Peter Pan”, J.M. Barries’s tale padded out with pop songs, energetic dance routines, vaguely off-colour humour and numerous local references. Wilkes was chummy and charismatic as ever, and Patterson (also responsible for the script) is always a formidable presence (although there were sadly few opportunities for him to cross-dress this time round). Amanda Coutts was also excellent and well-received, as the Essex girl Tinkerbell; and the rest of the cast, mostly drawn from the Wilkes’ performing arts academies, acquitted themselves admirably, despite seemingly having to speed through the plot in order to advance to the comedy business. It was all jolly fun, though.

"Interstellar"

Christopher Nolan’s “Interstellar” starts out as a 1930s-style dustbowl lament before launching us into outer space. The Earth is dying, with food running out, and only retired astronaut Matthew McConaughey can save it, by piloting a craft through a wormhole in search of a new home planet.

The mechanics of his recruitment by top scientist Michael Caine are obscure, and much else is both unexplained and inexplicable. Unfortunately, one has a lot of time to ponder this as we meander at a leisurely pace through admittedly stunning vistas with Cooper (McConaughey) and his fellow space travellers Anne Hathaway, Wes Bentley and David Gyasi. Meanwhile on Earth, decades pass, and Coop’s daughter, Murph, resentful at his abandonment of the family, nevertheless goes to work for Caine.

Frankly, for long periods, “Interstellar” is quite dull. It is sustained by the performances - McKenzie Foy heartbreaking as the young Murph, who grows into Jessica Chastain; the visuals – as impressive as one has come to expect from the Nolan oeuvre; and Hans Zimmer’s Reich/Glass-inflected score. The robots are also entertainingly clunky.

High adventure is not on the agenda – it is quite a way into the running time (close on three hours) before we get some movie-style action, courtesy of an unbilled guest star, but this is a mere prelude to the climax, when things get truly mind-bending.

It is this hard-earned final stretch on which “Interstellar” hangs, and it is, indeed, spectacular, cleverly translating into visual terms the film’s themes: the human survival instinct, our need to explore and the desire for connection.

Certainly worth watching on the big screen, but take an energy bar.