Tag Archives: Child prodigy

The Kindergarten Teacher (2018)

11 Monday Mar 2019

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D: Sara Colangelo / 96m

Cast: Maggie Gyllenhaal, Parker Sevak, Gael García Bernal, Michael Chernus, Anna Baryshnikov, Rosa Salazar, Daisy Tahan, Sam Jules, Ajay Naidu, Samrat Chakrabarti

Lisa Spinelli (Gyllenhaal) has been a kindergarten teacher for twenty years. She has a family of her own – husband Grant (Chernus), and two teenage children, Josh (Jules) and Lainie (Tahan) – but seems more at ease with the children in her class. In her spare time she attends a weekly poetry class run by Simon (Bernal), but though she tries her best, her poems are regarded as derivative and uninspired. One day, one of her pupils, Jimmy (Sevak), recites a poem that Lisa notes down. Believing it to be both beautiful and profound, she uses it as her own at her next poetry class, where it is well received by everyone. Enjoying this new recognition, Lisa takes more of an interest in Jimmy and tries to ensure she doesn’t miss any more spontaneous poems he might come up with. Certain that he’s a child prodigy, Lisa encourages Jimmy to let her know when he has a new verse. Soon, she is attempting to insert herself more and more into his life in order to foster his talent, but it leads to her making some very unwise decisions…

A remake of the 2014 Israeli movie of the same name, The Kindergarten Teacher is that rare remake that is just as good, if not better, than the original. Featuring a bravura performance from Gyllenhaal, the movie tackles its theme of intellectual obsession with a rigour and a complexity that ensures the material retains a number of layers for the viewer to explore even as more and more of Lisa’s motives are revealed. At first, she seems to be exploiting Jimmy’s talent for her own benefit, getting praise at her poetry class, and in time, receiving Simon’s lustful attentions. But as the story unfolds, and we learn more about her, we discover that Lisa is unhappy, with her life which seems to be stuck in a rut, with her marriage which has become stale, and with her children who are striking out on their own and lack any apparent need for intellectual stimulation, something that appals her deeply. Unable to take control of anything other than her standing in the poetry class (and only by deception), Lisa does her best to be the overseer of Jimmy’s talent, and by doing so, to find a new purpose in her life. And as she does so, she becomes more and more willing to take the kind of risks that will cause her downfall – and yet still be grateful to do so.

Of course, there are moral and ethical dilemmas to be addressed here, and Colangelo, who also wrote the screenplay, covers these issues astutely, and displays a keen awareness of Lisa’s emotional needs, and the maternal instincts that have been dulled by her children’s growing independence. In Jimmy she can see a redemptive opportunity, and by nurturing his talent and making sure it’s not squandered as he gets older, Lisa is able to validate her own sense of self-worth. Gyllenhaal is magnificent as Lisa, giving the kind of assured, dazzlingly authoritative performance that we haven’t seen from her in ages, and she dominates the movie from start to finish, expressing Lisa’s hopes and fears and initial lack of personal direction with a fierce intelligence that makes the character entirely credible throughout, and which makes a last reel admission all the more heartbreaking for its wrenching honesty. There are good supporting performances from Sevak and Chernus (though Bernal is under-utilised), and Colangelo makes good use of an often unsettling score courtesy of Asher Goldschmidt. Some viewers may be expecting a tragic ending to such a tale of obsession, and while there is one, it’s far more tragic for what it implies than what actually occurs, something that adds a chilling grace note to what’s gone before.

Rating: 8/10 – with a powerhouse performance from Gyllenhaal, and a storyline that embraces the emotional turmoil of someone who’s desperate to restore some meaning to their life – however they can – The Kindergarten Teacher is compelling and thought-provoking at the same time; as much about one woman’s skewed maternal instincts as it is about the path she takes to redeem herself in her own eyes, this is a movie that slowly and quietly grabs hold of the viewer and doesn’t let go until the final, haunting shot.

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Like Sunday, Like Rain (2014)

27 Wednesday May 2015

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Like Sunday Like Rain

D: Frank Whaley / 104m

Cast: Leighton Meester, Julian Shatkin, Billie Joe Armstrong, Debra Messing, Olga Merediz, J. Smith-Cameron, James McCaffrey, Sammy Pignalosa

Eleanor (Meester) is a twenty-three year old waitress whose relationship with aspiring musician Dennis (Armstrong) comes to an end when he fails yet again to return home one night from a gig. Reggie (Shatkin) is a twelve year old child prodigy whose advanced intellect keeps him remote from everyone around him. When an argument with Dennis at her place of work leads to Eleanor losing her job, a friend of hers recommends signing up with an agency. When she does she’s told about a job as a nanny that requires a same day start. Interviewed and hired by Reggie’s mother, Barbara (Messing), the job involves making sure Reggie gets to and from school and that he eats while Barbara is away for the next two months.

Eleanor soon finds that Reggie has his own unique way of looking at the world, and her expectations are swept aside as Reggie refuses to go to camp as planned and she begins to get to know someone who believes that “art as a language is dead”. Reggie and Eleanor spend time in the park, watching movies, and eating out, and as time goes by, the two grow closer, while Dennis refuses to accept that his relationship with Eleanor is over. One night though, Eleanor receives a call from her uncle Dale (McCaffrey) telling her that her father is seriously ill in hospital. She tells Reggie that she has to leave for a couple of days, but rather than be left in the care of someone he doesn’t know, Reggie offers to go with her.

They travel to Eleanor’s home town where they receive a less than hospitable welcome from Eleanor’s mother (Smith-Cameron). They switch to a motel where Eleanor reveals that she too has a musical talent (Reggie is a gifted cellist and composer), and that she once got into Juilliard but they couldn’t give her a full scholarship. Reggie decides that he’ll include a part of the cornet (Eleanor’s instrument) in the composition he’s written called Like Sunday, Like Rain. At the hospital, Eleanor learns that no one has been in to see her father; when she goes back home it leads to a row that has her vowing never to return. With her job looking after Reggie coming to an end, and with her bridges burnt at home, Eleanor now has to plan for her immediate future, a future that means leaving Reggie behind…

Like Sunday Like Rain - scene

The fourth feature from writer/director/actor Whaley, Like Sunday, Like Rain is a movie in which not a lot happens in terms of plot or even in dramatic terms, but which explores the dynamics of its central characters’ relationship with a great deal of charm and skill. As Eleanor and Reggie get to know each other – and we get to know them – the emotional differences between them become blurred, and various connections become apparent. It’s a delicate movie in many ways, with Whaley taking the time to explore Eleanor and Reggie’s personalities in deceptively fine detail, and in the process, allowing their eventual bond to become entirely believable.

As a result of ending her relationship with Dennis, Eleanor is both jobless and homeless, and at a crossroads in her life. Thanks to Meester’s intuitive, adept portrayal, Eleanor’s predicament is given a realistically poignant feel further enhanced by the combined expressions of resignation and frustration she evinces. It’s a subtler performance than it seems at first, and Meester shines throughout, building layer upon layer of resilience and determination and allowing Eleanor the opportunity to move forward with her life.

But this is Shatkin’s movie pure and simple, his performance another of those given by a child actor that is so perfectly gauged and delivered it puts most adult actors and actresses to shame (it’s a good job that Meester is a match for him). It’s a showy role – just watch Reggie’s response to his friend Raj’s crossword clue – but Shatkin is more than up to the task, and steals almost every scene he’s in, whether it’s questioning the maid, Esa (Merediz), as to the content of his meals, or quoting the sad fate of the artist Modigliani. Reggie’s over-confidence and child prodigy status hides a deep-rooted vulnerability, and Shatkin is excellent at showing the emotionally scared young boy hidden beneath the academic outer shell. His expression when Eleanor announces she has to leave to visit her father is a perfect display of need and understanding at war with each other.

Alas, where Whaley puts so much time and effort into making Eleanor and Reggie as credible as characters as he possibly can, the same can’t be said for Barbara and Dennis. Barbara is the stereotypical socialite so wrapped up in her own world she can’t be bothered to remember Eleanor’s name two minutes after she’s heard it. It’s a mannered, brittle performance by Messing, and amounts to barely ten minutes of screen time as she’s shuffled off to China to make way for Eleanor and Reggie to begin bonding. As Dennis, a musician with delusions of adequacy, Armstrong is a better singer than he is an actor, and Whaley doesn’t really do anything with the character other than to make him consistently whiny and annoying. Faced with such a limited characterisation, Armstrong doesn’t have the experience to make any more of the role, and consequently he’s the weakest link in the movie.

By concentrating on the subtle and meaningful ways in which two people, despite the gap in their ages and experiences of life, can develop a friendship that’s mutually beneficial and rewarding, Whaley makes Like Sunday, Like Rain a pleasure to watch despite its more dramatic turn when Eleanor goes home. This section of the movie feels a little rushed, as Eleanor’s differences with her family are brought to the fore in what are very broad strokes. But the ending restores the tone and the simplicity of what’s gone before, and the movie, already a pleasure to be a part of, concludes on a perfect note of synchronicity.

Rating: 8/10 – a slow-moving, leisurely paced movie that draws in the viewer and makes them care about its two central characters, Like Sunday, Like Rain is a small-scale movie that can be treasured time and time again; with terrific performances from Meester and Shatkin, and a nuanced script from Whaley, it’s a winning combination that rewards throughout.

Cuban Fury (2014)

11 Tuesday Mar 2014

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Cuban FuryD: James Griffiths / 98m

Cast: Nick Frost, Rashida Jones, Chris O’Dowd, Olivia Colman, Ian McShane, Kayvan Novak, Alexandra Roach, Rory Kinnear, Tim Plester, Ben Radcliffe

As a teenager, Bruce Garrett (Frost) is a salsa prodigy, winning with his sister, Sam (Colman) trophy after trophy, and heading for the top.  On his way to a major competition, Bruce is ambushed by three bullies who make fun of his sequinned outfit and assault him; ashamed and embarrassed by what has happened, Bruce turns his back on salsa and vows never to dance again.

Twenty-two years on, and Bruce is out-of-shape, without a girlfriend, and working for a tool-making company (though he does “love the lathe”).  When the company gains a new, American boss, Julia (Jones), Bruce finds himself attracted to her, and while they enjoy a good working relationship, Bruce convinces himself that nothing romantic will happen between them.  But when would-be Lothario and colleague, Drew (O”Dowd) begins to express a less than healthy interest in Julia, and prompted by the knowledge that Julia salsa dances as well, Bruce decides to renew his love for dance in the hope of winning Julia’s heart.

Renewing his love for dance, however, means getting back in touch with his old mentor, Ron Parfitt (McShane).  Ron isn’t too pleased to see Bruce, and makes him join his beginners class.  As Bruce comes to realise just how rusty he is, and how much salsa has moved on since he competed, he begins to regain his confidence.  When a dance competition is announced, Bruce trains even harder with the intention of asking Julia to be his partner.  But Drew is determined to bed her and engineers a situation that gives Bruce the impression he’s done so.  Will Bruce learn the truth before it’s too late?  Will Drew get his comeuppance?  And will Julia make it to the dancehall in time to partner Bruce in the final round?

Cuban Fury - scene

Based on an original idea by Nick Frost, Cuban Fury is a romantic comedy that charms its way into the viewer’s heart thanks to a combination of winning performances, a neat line in physical comedy, and well-choreographed dance sequences.  The movie wears its heart on its sleeve from the outset, showing the enjoyment the younger Bruce (Radcliffe) derives from dancing before it turns necessarily darker when Bruce is subject to the bullies’ attack.  Frost shows the same love and enjoyment in his dance sequences, displaying an agility and aptitude that, on paper at least, should be surprising, but in reality are entirely believable (though the acrobatics employed in the dance-off against Drew undermine Frost’s efforts in the rest of the movie).  O’Dowd has some good moves as well (though he’s more of an improviser than a formal dancer), but Jones only gets to strut her stuff in a couple of much shorter sequences.  Even so, their willingness to perform – with only a few shots the work of dance doubles – helps ground the movie so that the dance routines don’t stray too far from what you’d expect of the characters.

Away from the dance floor, Frost convinces as the hapless, ordinary man who no longer expects much from his life; it’s not exactly a stretch for Frost but he’s a likeable screen presence and adds layers to the character of Bruce that might not otherwise have been included.  O’Dowd excels as the ultra-sleazy Drew, the kind of man a woman would bite her own foot off to avoid, as clueless about the fairer sex as he is about gender equality and what constitutes inappropriate behaviour.  As the object of both men’s attentions, Jones has the lesser role and less opportunity to shine (though this misfortune can be laid firmly at the door of Jon Brown’s screenplay), while as Sam, Colman impresses as Bruce’s freewheeling sister, providing many of the movie’s prime laughs.  So too does Novak as Bejan, one of the learners in Ron’s class who befriends Bruce and helps him regain his confidence; with one-liners such as “I’m late for my ball waxing” it’s hardly surprising.  It’s left to McShane to provide the gravitas, scowling at Bruce and pushing him to work harder in order to succeed.  (There’s also a priceless cameo from one of Frost’s Cornetto Trilogy castmates.)

Behind the camera, Griffiths provides efficient if unfussy direction, saving the big camera moves for the infectious dance sequences, and using low camera angles to good effect.  The editing by Jonathan Amos, and the music choices (overseen by Nick Angel) combine to make these sections enthralling and enticing in equal measure (if you’re not tapping your toes there’s something wrong with you – peripheral neuropathy perhaps?).

Overall, Cuban Fury is an enjoyable variation on the boy-meets-girl, boy-deems-himself-not-worthy, boy-redeems-himself-and-wins-the-girl-through-accepting-hidden-talent tale of romantic woes and tribulations.  In reality there’s nothing entirely new here but it’s done with a lightness of touch that helps captivate the viewer and keeps them smiling all the way through.  And if there’s a sequel, let’s hope it’s called Cuban Fury 2: Heels of Steel.

Rating: 8/10 – funny, heart-warming and brimming with charm, Cuban Fury entertains throughout its running time; kudos to Frost for bringing his idea to life, and with such hip-swinging verve.