"Accomplishments"
In theaters: I don't really know that Robert Eggers' Nosferatu beats Werner Herzog's for me, but its strong image-making and psycho-sexual underpinnings - with the Mina stand-in, Ellen, blaming herself for a tryst with the monster - are highlights of this version. The low light, literally, is that it's shot with that low-contrast look that's too dingy for these old eyes, but is at least consistent with the mood of the film. We're watching through fog both real and of the mind. I also don't love the look of the vampire. But going for it in terms of adaptation is that it doesn't try to amalgamate Dracula into its text the way Herzog's did, and is more properly updating Murnau's classic. But enough with the comparisons. What we have here is a more straightforward Eggers film than most, with a very literate script (lines from Hamlet seem to be leaking in from The Northman) and some beautiful horror photography. Solid performances from everyone, but Willem Dafoe is particularly, and unsurprising, great.
At home: To me, Cuckoo recalls Speak No Evil (at least the original Danish version) - a dark, WTF is happening, mystery story set in the woods of Europe - and that mystery is admittedly absorbing. Hunter Schafer plays a teenager forced to go live with her dad in the German Alps were weird things are happening at the behest of resort owner Dan Stevens (who keeps playing creeps despite his good looks, you gotta respect that). If the film ultimately fails, it's that there are too many weird things, and the eventually "monster" has too many "powers" that don't necessarily make sense as a bundle. Schafer is good at playing the requisite defiance that will get her in trouble, and all the more emotional notes too, and I have some affection for the photography and the music. So it's a borderline 3 stars (which means its fine), its premise and plot just coming short of the 3½ that would have meant it was actually recommended, at least to fans of the genre.
Mike Leigh's first film, Bleak Moments, sees the director introduce himself full formed, in my opinion (well, he HAD worked in theater for a while, and the film is based on a stage play). It stars his working class heroes in scenes built through improvisation, where characters are allowed to have nothing to say, have verbal tics, and generally be tedious, foolish or unintelligent. It's about as anti-Hollywood as one gets. Anne Raitt is a simple secretary who obviously has a rich interior life, but is simply unable or unwilling to express it. She takes care of a mentally disabled sister, dates a boring, self-important school teacher (he is high class in this drama), and is perhaps more interested in the young musician renting out her garage to work on a political magazine (love his tunes are all sweetly inappropriate). This might almost have been called Awkward Moments because there are lots of them, Leigh already a master of cringe dramady. Though the film is melancholy - it's really about finding small moments of joy in an otherwise dreary life - it's also quite funny in the characters' discomfort. I love it when silences build up a sense of the absurd. The minimalism allows the audience to fill in the gaps and see something deeper in each of them too.
Seeing as Mike Leigh: Making Plays was a BBC documentary made in 1982, it explores the director's unusual technique in terms of stage plays and plays-for-television (which were really movies) more so than film, because he wouldn't make a second feature (after Bleak Moments) for years yet. That shouldn't matter - the process is the same. Today, plays are made through improvisation exercises all the time - it may even be the standard for new creations - but when Leigh started using it, in effect putting a lot of the creative power in the hands of actors, it was very rare that a project would use such a technique. In addition to articulate discussion from him and his common players, the doc stages just such a play (or the start of one) to see Leigh in action. It stops short of showing how the improvised material is actually distilled and structured into a working play or film - this needed a part 2 - but what we do get is fascinating and a must for Leigh fans. All clips and examples are from early work, but thankfully, I've seen all his Plays for Today, so they meant more to me, perhaps, than to audiences strictly familiar with his later feature films. Might as well encourage people to seek those BBC productions too, they're well worth it. I followed up with another YouTube treasure, A Mug's Game, an educational film about gambling directed by Leigh using his technique in 1973. A well-done series of scenes with some documentary elements thrown in. For a 20-minute PSA, it actually works as a tight little morality play that plays as wisdom more than instruction, which I think is why it's winning.
I kept digging and found his 1975 TV output as well... The Permissive Society is the most substantial of his shorts (at almost 30 minutes) and presents a very relatable experience for people who are early in their relationships - that of feeling locked out of the significant other's life by a pre-existing, and more intimate platonic relationship, in this case the man's sister. Since a family member is involved, the boyfriend also suffers from revertigo, perhaps becoming more childish from the old familiarity. I recognized the drama, but I wasn't too enthused until the third act, which spent the extra time showing how intimacy grows in spurts, even from a moment where you think the kids won't make it. I then watched the 5 Five-Minute Films that weren't aired until 1982. Of these, the first, The Birth of the Goalie of the 2001 F.A. Cup Final, is my favorite, and not just because of the title. Leigh really treats it as a film, albeit one that moves like a freight train, with a story that spans a great deal of time, with a husband atypically pestering his wife for a kid. He's also a failed goalie, and that's reflected in the last shot. Quite funny. Old Chums is more of a simple scene about those friendships that are really just annoying acquaintances supported by time. Probation basically tells a joke, or an amusing irony, and I like it, though the accents are a little difficult for the non-Brit. With A Light Snack, I was at first mystified by the two time/space frames, so I reread the synopsis and laughed out loud at the juxtaposition and rose my score by half a star. If all British film is really about class, Afternoon "class"-ifies married women between the veterans and the newlyweds, and there's something charmingly infectious about the former, on an afternoon bender, having a laugh at the latter's naivety.
Books: Trevor Baxendale's Coldheart has contrasting tones that make the front half of the book, with its bantery humor now evocative of the new series, clash with the violence and body horror of the back half. But both halves are well done and though perhaps meant to be a meat & potatoes entry in the Eighth Doctor Adventures, I ended up liking it quite a bit. Especially the first part, not gonna lie, where Baxendale draws the leads' inherent comedy out of the trio of the Doctor, Fitz and Compassion, and gives us some fair world-building to boot. Once we get to the monster, the action kicks into high gear and it's pretty exciting even if I miss the novel's lighter side. I would also say there are a couple of supporting characters that were too built up for the fate that was reserved for them, and so this isn't as satisfying a read as I was expecting it to be when I was most engrossed. Still good traditional Doctor Who on an unlimited budget.
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