London Film Festival has dazzled at cinemas across the Capital. Covering an array of genres from comedy to Diana Princess of Wales’ biopic, Ellie Calnan provides this essential review round-up.
Last Night in Soho – 3.5/5
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When you leave the cinema after watching Edgar Wright’s psychological thriller, the soundtrack is likely to stick in your head which is of no detriment to the film’s quality but more a testament of its ability to transport its audience to the 1960s – where much of Last Night in Soho is set. Eloise or “Ellie” (Thomasin McKenzie), a fashion design student newly arrived in London, finds herself slipping back in time each night and following the life of Sandie (Ana Taylor-Joy) a Soho singer who puts her dreams in the hands of a seedy manager Jack (Matt Smith).
Wright does an impeccable job of completely immersing you in this chaotic, and sometimes over-complicated, narrative but, in doing so, leaves little room for his actors to do much more than run around screaming. What’s perhaps most unexpected is the film’s subtle, and timely, commentary on male violence. From Eloise’s encounter with a Taxi driver who notes she’s got the ‘legs for modelling’ to the dark underbelly of Soho’s sex work scene Wright is trying to say something, but I’m just not sure what. Either way, it’s not quite enough to save the film from its glaring plot holes and ultimately Last Night in Soho is best enjoyed being treated like Wright’s other instalments – as sheer entertainment.
The Lost Daughter – 4/5
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You’d be hard-pressed to find a role more appropriate for Olivia Colman than that of the complex and witty languages professor Leda Caruso which plays to the award-winning actor’s well-refined strengths and strips away a few new layers as well. In Maggie Gyllenhaal’s sublime directorial debut, Colman’s character is trying to enjoy a working holiday in Greece when she finds herself entangled in the lives of the mildly criminal family staying nearby, and in particular young mother Nina (Dakota Johnson).
Colman subtly navigates the nuances of motherhood that are rarely seen on screen with a familiar sprinkling of humour that allows the film to come up for some much-needed air. Gyllenhaal’s direction, much like the mysterious family to Lena, feels intentionally intrusive with shaking close-ups and choppy flashbacks that forces the audience to sit in every uncomfortable moment with its protagonist. Along with the script, also penned by Gyllenhaal, the film tries to encapsulate all the complex themes of the Elena Ferrante novel it is adapted from. In doing so, these themes are sometimes not fleshed out enough to have the impact and resonance Gyllenhaal was expecting. Nonetheless, The Lost Daughter is an intimate thriller that never quite reaches the crescendo you are waiting for but the journey there is undoubtedly worth it.
Spencer – 4.5/5
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When I first heard they were making a film about Princess Diana I was apprehensive, to say the least. It felt like overkill in a world still obsessing over the latest season of The Crown. This is probably, in part, why I was so blown away by Pablo Larrain’s “fable from a true tragedy.” Set over three days during Christmas in 1991, Spencer is a beautiful nightmare of a film, tied together with Kristen Stewart’s unwavering portrait as the late princess. Stewart seems eerily fitting for the role and delivers a performance far from imitation and closer to that of ghostly embodiment – an Oscar nomination seems inevitable.
Jonny Greenwood’s score becomes a character in itself, from orchestral symphonies to jazz interludes, the music traps and panics Diana almost as much as the monarchy does. Adding to the list, the cinematography is truly breath-taking and the vivid depiction of Sandringham house and its haunting hallways are best witnessed on the big screen. While Spencer occasionally risks airing on the side of melodrama and oversaturating itself with metaphors, Larrain never strays too far from the raw emotion that drives its narrative. If it weren’t for the royal imagery and decadent sets, Spencer could be the depiction of any woman’s inner turmoil and that is where the real strength of this film lies.
King Richard – 4/5
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2021 is clearly the year for women in tennis. After Emma Raducanu’s sensational rise to the Grand Slam title, a biopic of the women who arguably paved the way – Venus and Serena Williams – seems rather fitting. Though, as the title suggests, King Richard is less about the tennis champion sisters and more about the father who helped them get there. Will Smith gives a career-best as the outrageously driven and often controversial coach who faced an uphill battle, fraught with racism and poverty, to ensure his daughters reached the top. Zach Baylin’s script, though incredibly entertaining and heartfelt, shies away from exploring the darker sides of Richard’s character.
Instead, the audience is expected to believe that his family continued to have complete faith in his unconventional methods no matter how cruel or unfair they seemed. As a consequence, there are missed opportunities for the Williams sisters (played honourably by Saniyya Sidney and Demi Singleton) to have more of a say in their narrative. For a sports biopic, King Richard does what it says on the tin no matter the cliches. It’s an inspiring tale of the underdog, or underdogs in this case, that tugs on your heartstrings and is bound to leave you with a sudden urge to pick up a racket.
The French Dispatch – 3.5/5
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Wes Anderson’s latest concoction, an ode to journalists and French cinema, may be his most stylistic yet but the heart of the film too often gets lost in its aesthetics and ambitions. It begins with the death of Arthur Howitzer Jr. (Bill Murray), the editor of the fictitious newspaper ‘The French Dispatch’ which is dubiously inspired by the New Yorker. While the staff mourn his loss and ponder his obituary, we are taken on three separate journey’s as articles from the newspaper’s last issue are brought to life and interspersed with Murray’s understated commentary.
This seems to be Anderson’s most glaring pitfall, with each story failing to live up to its predecessor – the third and final piece, the kidnapping of the son of a wealthy businessman, becomes so contrived and overflowing with characters that it quite literally loses the plot. Anderson’s usual staples are all here, from pastel palettes to shifting aspect ratios and are perhaps even more elevated this time around. Along with a Hollywood bingo of famous faces, if the content sometimes falls short at least your eyes are never bored. It would, of course, be remiss of me not to praise a film so intent on paying homage to journalism and the printed word but, in doing so, The French Dispatch sometimes forgets to be a film as well.
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