Simon and the Oaks (Simon och erkana) Film Review

Note: In Swedish with English subtitles

 Simon Larsson is a cerebral child, the son of a boat maker and his wife, whose deep penchant for history, books and art is out of keeping with his working-class roots. The disharmony between Simon's upbringing and his yearning for the more intellectual threads of life is most palpable in an early scene between the youngster and his father. Mr. Larsson warns Simon to remember where he comes from, after reluctantly enrolling his son in a grammar school frequented by the wealthy.

There Simon meets Isak, the Jewish son of a wealthy bookstore owner. Simon is introduced to and enamoured with the world of the upper classes and soon finds himself on a path which sets him further apart from the values of his upbringing.

Isak and his father however come from a volatile background of their own and the backdrop of WW2 serves to heighten the turbulence of what becomes an inextricable link between the two families. Both harbour secrets which hang menacingly throughout the narrative and prompt Simon on a journey of painful self-discovery.

Isak escapes from the persecution of the Jews and his own personal demons in the solace of Simon's home life, building a surrogate relationship with Mr. Larrson. The two relish in their shared love for practical labour, to the detriment and expense of the already strained relationship between Simon and his father. Likewise, Simon finds a kindred spirit in Isak's father who indulges his love for music and history, all the while impressing on Simon that ultimately his life choices are his own.

The discord of Simon's familial relationships and the angry overtones of war denote the enduring gulf between Simon and those around him. He finds solace in and draws comfort from the unyielding, stalwart oak tree of the film's title. Daydreaming amongst the imagined whispers of history as they ride on the wind and through its branches, the Oak tree symbolises a sense of constancy and placement that Simon so desires.

 Jonatan S. Wächter delivers a stand-out performance, eclipsing those of his older counterparts with an ephemeral quality which fits perfectly with Simon's transient nature. His manner evokes that of an old soul, haunted with the anxieties of the past and bereft of somebody who can truly understand him. Bill Skarsgård maintains the childlike quality of his younger counterpart's performance as he takes the torch from Wächter and carries it into Simon's teenage years. A wide eyed young man, Skarsgård's Simon drifts further from within himself in a journey of wider self-discovery, family secrets and romantic relations.

 Simon and the Oaks' cinematography features beautiful shots of nature at its most peaceful - untouched by the violence of war and the turmoil of the narrative. With the overwhelming changes to Simon's world, both personally and with regards to the wider political context, both he and the audience derive a sense of calm from the ageless and rural pastoral. The soundtrack is equally as stirring, evoking the same sense of yearning possessed by Simon in aching violin notes with beautiful, melodious undertones. In both nature and music, Simon finds his peace and place in the world - fitting, for both are timeless and belong to no time or context.

"It was as if I knew it. As if... I'd been there before. Inside the music."

"Jewish" - Annette Focks

A beautifully shot coming of age tale, this film prompted me to seek out its novel counterpart, which I will endeavour to post about soon!

The Longest Journey - E.M Forster (Book Review)

Rickie Elliot, a Cambridge graduate, grapples with his existential ideals and literary aspirations with the unpleasant practicalities of life. 

I have to admit upon buying this book I committed the age old sin of judging by its cover. If there's one thing I love about TK Maxx, it's scouring through their book section. Amidst the cook books and travel guides, you're guaranteed to find a random literary gem. A quick scan of the blurb and an impulse purchase was made - little did I realise how poignant it was that I came to choose The Longest Journey at the time.

Completing my final year exams, I felt disillusioned with life in general. It felt odd not to have the comfort of knowing I'd be returning to education in September to alleviate any guilt from a somewhat idle summer. Neither did it help that the overwhelming task of properly starting a 'working life' had become more apparent than ever before. I immediately missed the library and the silent camaraderie of that environment. I really appreciated that this revision period would be the last of my life, and I would never really engage in learning in quite the same way again.

The Longest Journey has been the perfect read for such an ambivalent time. Centred on Rickie Elliot, the protagonist of the novel and a recent graduate of Cambridge, the story follows his endeavours to appreciate and understand the philosophical ideals of truth and beauty, his search for a higher purpose and his ill-advised marriage to the object of his infatuation, Agnes Pembroke. The novel is split into three parts, tracing Rickie's journey from university, his engagement to Agnes and relationship with the morally dubious Aunt Emily, to his reluctant career as a public school teacher.

Rickie is an idealist and indulges in the solace he derives from the common purpose he and his friends share at Cambridge - the quest for higher knowledge. Grappling with existentialism, Rickie deplores that he has yet to possess the same grade of thinking as his peers. Yet what he might lack in philosophical acumen, Rickie makes up for in a more personable appreciation of the human condition - specifically, the fragility of relationships.

"But he was not cynical - or cynical in a very tender way. He was thinking of the irony of friendship - so strong it is, and so fragile. We fly together, like straws in an eddy, to part in the open stream. Nature has no use for us: she has cut her stuff differently. Dutiful sons, loving husbands, responsible fathers - these are what she wants, and if we are friends it must be in our spare time.

'I wish we were labelled.' said Rickie. He wishes that all the confidence and mutual knowledge that is born in such a place as Cambridge could be organised. People went down in the world saying 'We know and like each other; we shan't forget. But they did forget, for man is so made that he cannot remember long without a symbol; he wishes there was a society, a kind of friendship office, where the marriage of true minds could be registered."



It's passages like these I found comforting. If you're in the same ambiguous transition, you find an affinity with Rickie. For all his grandiose notions of seeking the ultimate good in people - an endeavour for which he is chastised for by his practical-minded friends -

'You think it so splendid to hate no one. I tell you it is a crime. You want to love everyone equally and that's worse than impossible. It's wrong.'

- he ironically hits upon the effect of such practicalities on our lives. We lose friends to make way for social convention and propriety, and this is what Rickie finds so lamentable - despite engaging in these conventions himself. This is evident in his engagement to Agnes and his later career as a school teacher - one that carries him further away from his real enthusiasm in becoming a writer.

The novel moves swiftly from one third to the next, though at times the narrative dwells just a little too long on scenic or architectural descriptions. This is quite at odds with Rickie's point of view, which is almost always concerned with moral propriety and higher ideals. To me it was always a way of reminding the audience of the contrast between Rickie's inner dialogue and that of his surrounding milieu.

Otherwise, Forster isn't too concerned with the intricate complexities of how relationships develop. He identifies the most significant moments and important transitions  and uses these to drive the story and Rickie's journey forward.

Trance - Film Review

**This Post May Contain Spoilers**

Simon (James McAvoy), an art auctioneer, is embroiled in a heist gone wrong, the botched attempt leaving him without recollection of what happened that day - much to the anger of his criminal associates (led by Vincent Cassell). In a desperate attempt to prompt his memory and locate the missing art piece, he turns to hypnotherapist Elizabeth Lamb (Rosario Dawson), who believes she can unlock Simon's memory. Uncertain of who to trust, Simon endures the protracted process of trying to remember what is real amidst false and suppressed memories - all the while growing dangerously close to Elizabeth.

  

If there is an actor I trust above all others to put on a solid performance, it's James McAvoy. When picking films, more often than not, I'm guilty of basing my decisions on the casting (much to the chagrin of my nearest and dearest!) It's not that I blithely bias myself to solely watch films for the lone reason that I 'like' an actor. It's certainly a consideration but there are a select few in my eyes who I trust with their choice of roles. There are inevitably exceptions to this rule - this logic once led me to watch an obscure biopic on a Hawaiian princess... but it's a habit of mine, and one I don't think I'm alone in indulging in!

 Back to my main point - Any film with McAvoy will be a firm favourite with me. And I've been doubly excited that he has two films (the other being Welcome to the Punch) currently out in cinemas.

  Trance was in a word - amazing. (Note: it took a lot of self-control to not make a hypnotism pun here!) I was hooked. I don't want to laden this post with spoilers and an in-depth analysis of the plot. I will say it was very intricate and did require you to constantly rewind and keep track of the story, which gave it a very compelling edge. (This sounds a bit obvious and non-committal - but it really was a plot which kept you replaying previous events over and over again, whilst you took in what was happening there and then on screen).

I'm finding it hard not to talk in cinematic clichés because this film genuinely ticked a lot of the right boxes - see, one already! There was a great deal of tension, action-oriented sequences, twists within a twist - it was just unlike any film I'd seen before. What struck me most was how signatory it was of a Boyle film. Obviously in most cases, the director is not the writer - but this had such a distinct style that I wasn't too surprised to learn that Boyle also had screenwriting credit. There was the signature gore and the brilliant trance-like sequences which all came to fit together neatly in what became another twist of events - a ploy used expertly without becoming fatigued. He really knows how to stamp his mark.

 What I loved all the more was that whenever a trance-sequence was in play, unless explicitly stated, it was never expected. There were moments where very much like McAvoy's character, you'd be shaken out of whatever state you had lulled yourself into and realise what you were seeing weren't the bare facts. When a character would jump out of a reverie-like state, there was always the worry that it could be a cop-out; the horrible 'waking from a dream' trick - but fortunately with Trance this doesn't happen.

McAvoy as ever was on perfect form. He ran a gamut of characterisations in one persona, and brilliantly so. From the initial, glass-cut accented art-auctioneer, to the weakest link in a criminal gang with dormant but explosive personality flaws, this was a role fit for a man who's versatility is champion. The character is fractured and disorientated and I always had the feeling that there was more to him - a side that would be revealed later on. This happened to a fierce extent, and McAvoy played it with such panache that it seemed so plausible. He had a mastery of luring you into this character who appears a pawn in a mixed up game, so all the while we never really stop to question his integrity.

 You emotionally invest in him and prioritise him to come out on top. But why? Trance deliberately gives us very little inside information to the character other than his occupation. What we have to go on is his behaviour in the here and now - and yet we trust McAvoy from the start because he serves as a distraction from himself.

  Rosario Dawson was perfectly cast. Her calm and sometimes eerie manner fit expertly with her character. Despite being the protagonist's only hope, she never appeared trustworthy nor completely deceitful. I've never described a character as an enigma before, but she is undoubtedly the first. Vincent Cassel led the supporting cast but I didn't think he embodied his character in quite the same way as his co-stars. He fit the exterior well - the slick art thief and head of a criminal gang, but there just didn't seem enough focus on his character for us to make a solid judgement. I personally would have liked a bit more into his psyche and what made him tick but Trance doesn't commit too much time to this. Additionally, a burgeoning romance between his character and Dawson's isn't really given enough screen time to become believable once it's significant to the story's outcome.

I would highly, highly recommend Trance. The story keeps your mind ticking for a long while after you leave the cinema and for good reason. McAvoy and Dawson put on stellar performances, and Boyle again cements his status as a director tour de force.

Playlist

Radiohead: Talk Show Host

The Cure: Secrets

Aqualung: Strange & Beautiful (I'll Put A Spell On You)

Arctic Monkeys: If You Were There, Beware

Bill Ryder-Jones: By the Church of Appolonia

Arctic Monkeys: Dance Little Liar

The Coral: The Box

The Last Shadow Puppets: Gas Dance

Ludovico Einaudi: Nightbook

This particular track seemed very apt when I thought of the film. A sinister package which warns the protagonist not to open under any circumstances, but which soon drives him mad with curiosity reminded me of the of the dangers associated with unlocking Simon's memories.
 

The Illustrated Man - Ray Bradbury (Post Pt. 1)

I hadn't read a collection of short stories in a very long time and I was a little sceptical that this wouldn't meet my expectations. I wouldn't say I was an aficionado of science fiction in any big way (other than being completely enamoured with the David Tennant era of Doctor Who) so upon realising Bradbury is a leading light in the science fiction literary realm, my hopes were slightly dashed.

 

But they needn't have been. Whatsoever. I loved it. I loved the idea of the Illustrated Man; a mysterious being with the most intricate and elaborate tattoos, each a vignette of what could be.

Bradbury's style is stark. There's a great dearth in detail and each story is stripped to the bare minimum - ironically in contrast to how vivid and complex the sight of the Illustrated Man is supposed to be.

This doesn't detract from the reader's enjoyment at all. The greatness lies in Bradbury's ability to haunt you long after the story ends. Some really chilled me, others made me think of the potential inevitability in his words. What happens if technology advances to the point where it can think for itself? What if we become so disconnected as a society that we can't see what it is right in front of us? What if we become so blinded by striving for the greater good, that we fail to realise the greater good is actually something rather sinister?

In particular, I loved "The Veldt" - a sinister tale of a children's playroom or 'nursery' with a mind of its own - and "The Last Night of the World"- a short retelling of a day in the life of a couple who learn that it is their last.

The dystopian, futuristic and outer space themes in the book really reminded me of 'The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust' and Bowie's excessive glam rock era. The idea of a fallen idol, who lived too fast and came to warn Earth of its impending doom really fit in with Bradbury's work.

 

As each story is so different and unrelated from one another, wouldn't it be interesting for The Illustrated Man to be re-made, each its own mini-film or short, directed and produced by a different person? Each completely different in terms of interpretation and style. A different cast. Different score.

I'm thinking a lot of the Imaginarium of Dr. Parnassus - I know there's only the one director in that case (I think Terry Gillam would be very apt!), but the idea of changing the actors for a single character is an interesting take; so a series of mini-casts would be endearing. I heard there are plans to re-make The Illustrated Man but this was circa 2007...

 

One of my next posts will be on a few connections I thought of between the stories in 'The Illustrated Man' to other literary works and film.

 

Father! Father! Burning Bright - Alan Bennett (Book Review)

I bought this book via eBay on a whim, having already purchased 'The Lady in the Van' - which I've yet to read but will post about soon! I've been a bit of a dilettante when it comes to Alan Bennett. The History Boys is one of my favourite films and the play really hit home with its portrayal of education fostering the ideal of learning for the sake of (and only for the sake of) passing exams; but I've actually yet to really delve into his exhaustive works.

 

I've been pretty swamped with Uni work of late  - my final year project deadline loomed over me this week, and so whenever I needed some light relief, I whizzed through 'Father! Father! Burning Bright!' It really helped that this book was so dinky for being pocket-sized amongst hefty textbooks and the two packed lunches I had equipped myself with for the day's library session!

Midgley is a schoolteacher, facing the inevitability of his father's impending death and the frustration of him not actually.. well dying.

 I won't say much as this is such a short read, and anything else would be an unnecessary irritation of a spoiler. I will say that Bennett's infamous and expert handle on satire is unapologetic, stark and completely funny. I found myself stifling a small laugh every time I realised how blatantly Bennett calls people out on their prejudices, however harmless and benign.

 

Adapted from the TV film "Intensive Care" (starring Alan Bennett), the story moves swiftly from one scene to the next - and without warning, much like as if you were watching it on television itself.

It's rare that I find a book which will strike me as funny (in that I would actually laugh aloud), with 'Submarine' being the strongest contender (a recommended read!). This has prompted me to read more from Bennett - and possibly re-watch The History Boys. (Exam-time is approaching fast after all!) I've been wanting to read "The Uncommon Reader" for a good while now, though the ever increasing height of my "To Read" pile is warning me otherwise!

Are you an Alan Bennett fan? What are your recommendations?

 

Here is the first of 9 parts to BBC 2's "Intensive Care" via YouTube. (Link active at time of posting).

 

Gregory's Girl Vs. (500) Days of Summer

"I’ll tell you something - and not a lot of people know this. We are clinging to the surface of this planet, while it spins through space at a thousand miles an hour. Held only by the mystery force called ‘Gravity’. A lot of people panic when you tell them that, and they just fall off. Don’t stop dancing or you’ll fall off." 

My go to feel-good film. Everything from Gregory's gawkiness to the grainy 70's camera brings a home grown, comforting quality to the screen.
 

Gregory's Girl is un-film like. It could easily be one of those special edition episodes of Grange Hill, with this week honing in on the unassuming Gregory.

• Although it's a tale of unrequited love, it's devoid of the usual, protracted teenage angst. Gregory completely and unashamedly indulges in being in love - and he's no reason to believe it's anything but.

• Stills from the films could easily be used in a 70s live-action comic strip. Cue speech bubbles.
• Scottish accents.

This was originally going to be a post reviewing Gregory's Girl, and one of the points was that Gregory's character is a fore bearer for the boy in love with the notion of love - best and most recently depicted by Joseph Gordon-Levitt in (500) Days of Summer. Thinking about this for a moment, I realised there were more parallels between the two films.

Gregory and Tom

Both are in love with the idea of love. Both project their hopes of happiness on one person and in both cases, it ultimately falls flat. The big difference is that in (500) Days of Summer, Tom allows these hopes to consume him, with everything else in his life paling in comparison. Gregory, on the other hand, is the opposite. Although guilty of the same thing, he's more resilient for it. He's happier for it. Nothing - not even the discouragement from his friends and family - dampens his spirits.

"A lot of boys and girls think their lives will have meaning if they find a partner who wants nothing else in life but them. "That’s not healthy. That’s falling in love with the idea of a person, not the actual person. I would encourage anyone who has a crush on my character to watch it again and examine how selfish he is. He develops a mildly delusional obsession over a girl onto whom he projects all these fantasies. He thinks she’ll give his life meaning because he doesn’t care about much else going on in his life."

 - Joseph Gordon-Levitt

The Little Sister

Words of wisdom come from a world-weary, younger sister. The older brother, the character assumed to have the experience if not the answers is the fool in love, the source of much exasperation for the little sibling. Growing up doesn't necessarily mean getting wiser. In fact, you become all the more foolish. And in Gregory's case, there's nothing too wrong with that - again you can actually be happier for it.

  ... & the ever present pessimistic friends

Oh ye of little faith. Always on hand for a sarcastic quip, a stark reality check and light relief which fails to provide the intended pick-me-up our milksop protagonist may sorely need but definitely doesn't want.

Playlist:

Bay City Rollers: I Only Want To Be With You

The Courteeners: Not Nineteen Forever

Oasis: The Girl In the Dirty Shirt

Bobby Vee: Rubber Ball

Mumm-Ra: She's Got You High

Oasis: She's Electric

Arctic Monkeys: Fluorescent Adolescent

The Searchers: Sweets for my Sweet

The Beach Boys: Help Me Rhonda

The Wombats: Here Comes the Anxiety

The Turtles: Elenore

I Give It A Year - Film Review

"It’s no good pretending that any relationship has a future if your record collections disagree violently or if your favourite films wouldn’t even speak to each other if they met at a party."

- Nick Hornby

Hearing that this film was of the same ilk as Bridget Jones and Love Actually, I was instinctively expecting something very Richard Curtis-esque. Although I wouldn't say it reaches the same comedic heights as those films, it's well worth a watch, with a more than credible cast who deliver the witty script with aplomb.

Rafe Spall and Rose Byrne lead as a newly married couple, wed after only a few months of meeting, at the concern of their nearest and dearest, all of whom are dubious of the union's longevity. Following the trajectory of the crucial first year, ex-girlfriends and suave newcomers threaten to shake the already precarious foundations of the relationship.

Above all others, I love home-grown, British films. Specifically how they celebrate the humour (both the dry wit and sarcasm, coupled with the more slapstick); the idiosyncrasies of behaviour - a scene that hit this on the nail was one which poked fun at the tedious routine of calculating (to the penny) each person's share of the bill at the end of a meal - and all to a backdrop highlighting the best parts of the country, especially the West End.  (Notting Hill, Love Actually, Bridget Jones all being prime examples.)

I was slightly nervous that 'I Give It A Year' might end up being a parody of itself, slightly overwrought with the clichés of the typical British rom-com, given the hype of it coming from the people who delivered the above films. Despite how much I love them, I think it could be quite easy to follow the same formula of these films, and translate them into a slightly different scenario with only, marginally different characters.

I can't say it was totally different - there were the generic sub-plotlines and archetypes (married characters realising their true love is elsewhere with elsewhere usually being, quite literally, right around the corner; the hapless and ever present, inappropriate best friend of the male protagonist - see Rhys Ifans in Notting Hill; and dubious characters in professional or authority positions (the vicar or priest almost always being a culprit, both in 'I Give It A Year', and Four Weddings and a Funeral).

In films like these, there aren't any special effects, grand cinematography or overcomplicated storylines to distract audiences away from the writing or acting of the cast. I've been particularly fond of Rafe Spall since watching him in 'Pete Vs. Life' (which I'm really disappointed there's not been a third series of!), though I hope he won't be typecast as the hapless, slightly awkward and gawky "non-typical" male lead, unlucky in love and life (also seen in 'One Day'). I think he's great nonetheless and especially at comedic roles. His off-dialogue murmurings were a brilliant adjunct to the character interactions and made for a really personable and likeable performance.

Rose Byrne didn't come off in quite the same way - though this is probably due to her character being obviously intentioned to be more stern and in stark contrast to Spall's. I felt that we should have wanted to be equally sympathetic to both characters, though Spall's purposely came across as more deserving. Rose's character is frequently shown as snappy, fed up and out of sync with her new husband, whereas Spall seemed a bit more helpless and determined to keep the relationship working.

There are some really funny, laugh out loud moments, and the audience loved cringing in hysterics at the 'crude but could happen' moments, or at the blunt directness of character exchanges (most particularly those from Minnie Driver and Jason Flemyng as the exasperated, bitter married couple, serving as a warning for the newlyweds of what lies in store.)

It's been a while since a film like this really caught my eye, as I (probably quite unfairly) hold them up to the same scrutiny as the more stellar Brit-rom-coms. But again, with its solid cast that also includes Stephen Merchant and Olivia Colman and its more than well written script, I came away really pleased that I had taken a chance on it!

I couldn't help but add this gem in! All this talk of Richard Curtis and British rom-coms, it was only inevitable!