Adult Life Skills (2016)

23 Sunday Apr 2017

Tags

Bereavement, Brett Goldstein, Comedy, Drama, Grief, Jodie Whittaker, Lorraine Ashbourne, Rachel Tunnard, Review, Shed, Twins

D: Rachel Tunnard / 96m

Cast: Jodie Whittaker, Lorraine Ashbourne, Brett Goldstein, Rachael Deering, Eileen Davies, Ozzy Myers, Alice Lowe, Edward Hogg

Following the death of her twin brother, twenty-nine year old Anna (Whittaker) has moved into the shed at the bottom of her mother’s garden. It’s been eighteen months since he died, but although Anna works at a local outdoor pursuits centre, she doesn’t socialise or spend any of her free time away from the shed. Instead she stays inside it making videos that depict her two thumbs as astronauts in a space capsule. She uses this as a way of maintaining a connection with her brother, as they both made similar videos when they were younger. A lot of the stuff that’s in the shed is items and objects that she and her brother either played with or created. But while Anna is apparently content to remain living there, her mother, Marion (Ashbourne), isn’t as keen. She wants Anna to move out of the shed and start to rebuild her life. With Anna’s thirtieth birthday fast approaching, Marion gives her daughter an ultimatum: Anna has to be out of there before her birthday.

Anna has no intention of agreeing to this, and avoids or ignores all her mother’s attempts to get her to change. At the outdoor pursuits centre, Anna is given the task of monitoring the number of molehills that pop up each night, as well as ridding the site of any graffiti. It’s boring, mundane work, but she doesn’t mind, as it at least takes her mind off her brother. The reappearance of an old friend, Fiona (Deering), after she’s been away for some time, sees Anna begin to get out more (much to her mother’s delight), but she’s still adamant about remaining in the shed. Even the clumsy attentions of Brendan (Goldstein), a local estate agent who’s known Anna since childhood, aren’t enough to get her to rethink her future.

But when an eight year old boy, Clint (Myers), ends up in her family’s care temporarily following the death of his mother, his presence in Anna’s life begins to chip away at the carefully built-up walls she’s erected since her brother’s death. A night out with Fiona doesn’t go as planned, and puts a strain on their friendship, and when Clint goes missing overnight, Anna realises that she can care about someone else. But there’s still the issue of the shed, and the deadline of Anna’s birthday. Will Anna hold on to her need to be there, or will recent events show her a different way forward?

Expanded from the short, Emotional Fusebox (2014) (a lot of which is included or recycled here), Adult Life Skills is writer/director Rachel Tunnard’s feature debut. It’s a terrific little movie that’s emotionally astute and, in places, effortlessly poignant. The central conceit, that Anna feels bereft from everything following her brother’s death, is handled with sympathy and compassion for the character’s feelings, and the sadness that overwhelms her so much is often expressed in beautifully understated fashion by Whittaker. Even after eighteen months (or maybe because of that amount of time), Anna’s retreat from the world can still be regarded as understandable, but there’s still the sense that she’s using her grief as a way of avoiding any potential further heartbreak in her life.

But while Anna’s self-imposed predicament is viewed sympathetically, and the toll of her bereavement is presented with a great deal of care and sincerity, Tunnard is wise enough to know that the travails of a near-thirty something living in a shed isn’t going to be enough for a full-length movie. And so we’re introduced to the people around Anna, the people who care about her. Her mother – played with unrepressed yet entirely credible frustration by Ashbourne – is trying her best to get Anna to move on with her life, and it’s a tribute to the quality of Tunnard’s writing that Marion isn’t just the movie’s token “bad guy” but a parent trying to avoid losing both her children. No matter how acerbic or demanding she may be, she still cares. The same goes for Jean (Davies), Anna’s grandmother. Jean is supportive of Anna’s “lifestye choice”, and recognises that it’s a way for Anna to deal with her grief, that in time she’ll find her way back to everyone and everything. And though she too behaves in an acerbic manner towards Marion, there’s still the same love there as Marion feels for Anna.

The introduction of Clint, a small boy with a big attitude, acts as a catalyst for Anna’s eventual coming to terms with her pain and sadness at no longer officially being a twin. He’s challenging, acts like he doesn’t care, and sports a cowboy hat, gun and holster. He gets Anna to talk about her brother, something it’s clear she hasn’t done since his death, and as she trusts him more and more, you can see the weight lift from her shoulders. Unsurprisingly it’s Myers’ first movie, and though some of his lines don’t have the clarity needed for the viewer to understand them fully, he’s a child with wonderfully expressive features, and for his age, an equally wonderful insouciance about him.

As the emotionally tongue-tied Brendan, Goldstein provides much of the movie’s good-natured comedy (“How… is your… period?”), and Deering offers solid support as Anna’s best friend. Hogg pops up as a snorkeler Anna encounters at odd moments, while Lowe is her no-nonsense, lower-case angry work colleague, Alice. All the cast give good performances, but it’s Whittaker who holds the attention throughout, channelling Anna’s grief, confusion, and anger with an honesty and a warmth that can’t help but make the character likeable and someone to root for.

Aside from the performances, there’s much else to enjoy in Adult Life Skills, from the absurdist conversations Anna comes up with for her thumb videos (and those are Tunnard’s thumbs, not Whittaker’s), to the mangled version of Morning Has Broken courtesy of a recorder-playing barman, and its affecting sense of childhood nostalgia. Tunnard, who originally tried to pass on directing this, proves an adept, instinctive director, and her script isn’t too shoddy either. Unlike a lot of first-time moviemakers, Tunnard gets the pace just right (she is first and foremost an editor), and though she does overdo it on the quirky, shed-based activity that Anna involves herself in, she makes up for it by making Anna’s re-emergence into the outside world truthful and in keeping with the emotional journey the character is embarked upon. There’s fine cinematography courtesy of Bet Rourich, and the West Yorkshire locations provide an attractive backdrop to the action, all of which adds up to a hugely enjoyable movie about grief and loss – no, honestly.

Rating: 8/10 – sweet and sincere, and with the ability to pack an emotional wallop from time to time, Adult Life Skills is a blend of quirky characterisations, even quirkier confrontations and encounters, and sometimes, a potent examination of how grief can paralyse a person beyond their ability to deal with it; with a generosity of heart and spirit that adds further resonance to a movie with bags of sincerity already, this is a movie that doesn’t short change its characters or its cast or its viewers, and is also one of the funniest and most enjoyable British movies of the last five years.

The Library Suicides (2016)

01 Tuesday Nov 2016

Posted by dullwood68 in Movies

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Tags

Catrin Stewart, Drama, Dyfan Dwyfor, Euros Lyn, Fflur Dafydd, Literary adaptation, Murder, National Library of Wales, Review, Ryland Teifi, Suicide, Thriller, Twins, Wales, Y Llyfrgell

Original title: Y Llyfrgell

D: Euros Lyn / 87m

Cast: Catrin Stewart, Dyfan Dwyfor, Ryland Teifi, Sharon Morgan, Carwyn Glyn

Twins Ana and Nan (Stewart) both work in the archive section of the National Library of Wales in Aberystwyth. Their mother, Elena (Morgan), is a famous author who has raised her daughters by herself. Ana is the creative, more outgoing twin, while Nan is the dependable, more introverted one. Their lives are orderly, well-managed and maintained, and their work appears to be all they have outside of their relationship with their mother. But all that changes when Elena commits suicide by jumping from a second story window at their home. With Ana and Nan both present in her dying moments, Elena says that “it was Eben”.

Eben (Teifi) was once a student of Elena’s who in the time since her death, has been granted access to her papers, and is intending to write her biography. The papers are kept at the National Library, in a vault room below ground. Late one afternoon he arrives at the Library to begin work on the biography. He’s shown in by security guard Dan (Dwyfor). Soon the Library closes, and once all the other visitors have left, Ana and Nan begin to carry out a plan they’ve hatched to kill Eben for causing the death of their mother.

Along with Dan, there’s another guard called Glyn (Glyn). The twins offer them both coffee laced with crushed sleeping tablets. Glyn succumbs, but Dan rejects the offer. Ana tempts him with alcohol (also laced with crushed sleeping tablets) but he only drinks enough to pass out for a short while. While both men are “out of action”, the twins confront Eben in the vault room. They pull guns on him, tie his hands together, put a noose around his neck, and make him stand on a chair. But as they pull away the chair, Dan – who has woken up and has seen what’s happening on a security monitor – cuts the power to the building. The lights go out, there’s a crash followed by a gunshot, and in the moments that follow, both Ana and Nan become aware that their plan for revenge isn’t going to go as well as they’d planned…

The Library Suicides is a bit of a rarity. It’s a Welsh thriller where the entire cast speak Welsh throughout (there’s the odd English phrase or word, but it still leaves the cast speaking Welsh for ninety-nine percent of the running time), and it’s largely set in the actual National Library of Wales in Aberystwyth. There’s also something of a mystery to be solved, as the circumstances surrounding Elena’s death aren’t as clear-cut as they seem, and in particular, Eben’s involvement – if any – in what happened that day. As Ana and Nan put their plan into action, Eben’s behaviour, allied with some unexpected interventions by Dan, ensure that Ana and Nan have to improvise quite a bit, and in doing so, learn more about their mother than they suspected could be true.

Adapted from the novel by Fflur Dafydd (who also provides the screenplay), The Library Suicides is a smart, intriguing psychological thriller that makes good use of its unique location – it’s like a maze in there – and manages to keep the viewer guessing for most of its relatively short running time before it conforms to thriller conventions and reveals all. Before then, though, it throws in a few deft twists and turns, and keeps its focus firmly on Ana and Nan as they try to contain the fallout from Dan’s cutting off the power, and also contain their own feelings as they both learn about and reveal things about their mother.

In the hands of experienced director Euros Lyn – better known for his TV work on shows such as Daredevil, Broadchurch and Doctor Who – The Library Suicides is a dour but imaginative thriller that features a terrific dual performance from Stewart (who is herself a twin in real life), an ominous score courtesy of Dru Masters, and sterling cinematography from Dan Stafford Clark that captures the chilly atmosphere of the Library and the claustrophobic nature of the material as the characters become more and more trapped by the decisions they’re forced to make. One of the main reasons for how good the movie is lies at the door of Stewart, who at first makes it very difficult for the viewer to tell Ana from Nan and vice versa, but as the movie progresses, slowly but surely, she expertly defines both twins’ individual psychology, and in the process, gives two awards-worthy performances.

The mystery surrounding Elena’s death, and the meaning behind the phrase, “it was Eben”, is slowly but surely revealed as the movie progresses, and the deep, dark secret lurking behind it all (while it will be obvious to some viewers) is handled with care throughout. Lyn resists the temptation to make more out of it than there is, making it all more low-key than a lot of other movies would feel comfortable with. By doing so, Lyn ensures the viewer is more attentive and more invested than in a lot of other, similar thrillers out there, and he sprinkles some misdirection here and there to keep audiences on their toes.

This being a modern day thriller, there’s blood to be spilled, and though the physical demands of the production are entirely evident on the screen, it’s often the movie’s subtext that has the advantage of making more of an impact as the movie progresses. The movie is as much about redacted memory and the suppression of feelings than it is about revenge for an undisclosed crime, and Dafydd’s script keeps sight of all this even when said blood is being spilled. In particular it’s what the twins remember that carries emotional and dramatic weight, and again, both Lyn and Stewart are more than up to the challenge of revealing just enough to keep viewers enthralled and wanting to see what happens next. In the end it’s only a last-minute reveal that proves unnecessary, and while it may be clever in the context of what’s gone before, it does the narrative no favours and seems tacked on for effect – which it doesn’t need to do.

Rating: 8/10 – deliberately paced, and with the look and feel of a “Nordic noir”, The Library Suicides is a movie that gives its characters solid reasons for what they do, and never short changes them or the audience as a result; Stewart’s performances are compelling, and Lyn’s direction expertly juggles the visual demands of those performances, while also negotiating the spaces within the National Library with vigour and aplomb, making this one night shift that’s hard to forget.

Goodnight Mommy (2014)

21 Sunday Feb 2016

Posted by dullwood68 in Movies

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Tags

Drama, Elias Schwarz, Horror, Lukas Schwarz, Mother, Review, Severin Fiala, Susanne Wuest, Thriller, Twins, Veronika Franz

Original title: Ich seh ich seh

D: Veronika Franz, Severin Fiala / 100m

Cast: Lukas Schwarz, Elias Schwarz, Susanne Wuest, Hans Escher, Elfriede Schatz, Karl Purker

At an isolated lakeside property surrounded by woods and cornfields, two nine year old boys, twins, play freely while they await the return of their mother who has been in hospital following an accident. When she returns home they are dismayed to find she has had facial reconstructive surgery, and her features are hidden under a swathe of bandages. Her mood and attitude have changed and she’s no longer the kind-hearted mother they remember. She insists on imposing some strict house rules in order to aid her recovery, and because of a perceived slight, refuses to acknowledge the presence of one of the boys, Lukas.

Lukas and his brother, Elias, begin to feel uneasy around their mother, and soon they’ve convinced themselves that the woman who has come home from the hospital isn’t their mother at all but an imposter. When they rescue a cat and bring him home, it’s not long before they find him dead in the basement. Convinced their “mother” is responsible they begin to form a plan of resistance. As they ignore her wishes and behave inappropriately around her, she becomes less and less tolerant, to the point of locking them in their room. The boys challenge her more and more, even telling her they want their mother back. This leads to increased tension in the house, tension that is relieved for a short period when their “mother” is able to remove her bandages and she looks like her old self.

By now though, Elias and Lukas have convinced themselves completely that she is an imposter, and they take steps to prove their theory. When she wakes one morning she finds herself tied to her bed and her two sons determined to learn the truth – whatever the cost.

Goodnight Mommy begins in a cornfield, with Lukas and Elias playing hide and seek amongst the rows. It’s the epitome of a carefree, spirited childhood, as we follow the two boys on their adventures and explorations of the local countryside. It’s almost idyllic, beautifully shot (on glorious 35mm) by DoP Martin Gschlacht, and with only a shot of the two boys disappearing into a disused tunnel to give any indication that their childhood is anything but unspoiled and bucolic. When they return to their brightly lit, glass-fronted home with its open-plan spaces and minimalist furniture, it seems as if the house is, for them, an extension of the world they play in outside. Excited to see their mother again, they rush to her bedroom, and in the moment it takes to acknowledge her appearance, their picturesque existence comes to an end.

What follows is less about innocence lost as innocence corrupted from within, as Elias and Lukas take increasingly disturbing steps in their quest to find the truth about their mother’s identity. With no one to correct them – their father and mother have separated as a result of the accident – and with their imaginations becoming ever more fervid and distressing, the twins create their own cauldron of oppression. When they take matters too far, and their methods in finding the truth become too harrowing, their dispassionate features and lack of compassion become even more frightening than the idea that their mother really is some kind of evil döppelganger.

The movie toys with this idea, that there’s a matriarchal cuckoo in the nest, for quite some time, with the mother behaving oddly while her sons are out of sight and earshot, and thanks to some cleverly inserted dream sequences that are played out in the boys’ own psyches (one such sequence, involving a cockroach, will have some viewers wishing they were watching something altogether more wholesome). As the movie pulls the audience firmly in this direction, and litters the narrative with clues that something truly isn’t right with the mother, it distracts cleverly and persuasively from the real horror: that something truly isn’t right with the children.

By the time viewers work this out – and some may do so quite early on – it’s far too late, and the movie has sunk its claws in and won’t let go. Thanks to two superb performances from real-life twins Elias and Lukas Schwarz, the blandness of their appearance, and their downplayed facial expressions hide a growing menace that sits like a suffocating cloak around their shoulders. As they carry out newer and more emasculating “procedures” on their “mother”, the movie attains a level of intensity that proves hard to watch, and where the drama so far has been patiently heightened and maintained, it now becomes the kind of horror movie where to look away is no guarantee of relief. One mealtime sequence becomes so excruciating to watch, thanks to the children’s lack of foresight, that their casual, matter-of-fact response is even more horrifying.

Matching the Schwarzes in the acting stakes is Wuest, whether she’s looking grim and monstrous behind her bandages, or later when she’s restored to her former good looks. When further doubt to her identity is added to the mix late on, Wuest still manages to tread the line of providing clarity while also maintaining the uncertainty of her character’s true nature. It’s a delicate balancing act, but one that she pulls off with aplomb. All three are helped immeasurably by the writing-directing team of Franz and Fiala. Their script, and the confident way in which they’ve developed it visually, is refreshingly spare, and yet it’s also possessed of a depth in terms of the characterisations and the psycho drama being enacted on screen that elevates the material to unexpected heights.

The movie is also paced to perfection, with scenes allowed to play out for maximum effect, and to enhance the sense of impending doom that permeates the narrative with every inevitable development. Franz and Fiala have worked hard to create a private world for the story to take place in, and interior worlds for the boys that feed off of and sustain that original private world. It all adds up to one of the most original and nerve-racking horror movies of recent years.

Rating: 9/10 – anchored by a trio of superb performances, and a script that doesn’t shy away from showing the consequences of imaginations left unchecked, Goodnight Mommy has a clammy, skin-crawling effect that’s hard to shake off; with striking imagery and a tremendous sound design to add to the movie’s sense of mounting terror, this is satisfying in ways you really shouldn’t want it to be.