Destroyer (2018)

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Silas is back. As a young cop, Erin Bell (Nicole Kidman) went under cover with colleague Chris (Sebastian Stan) to infiltrate a gang in the California desert – with tragic results. Sixteen years later, a prematurely aged, alcoholic and divorced Bell continues to work as a detective for the Los Angeles Police Department, but feelings of anger and remorse leave her worn-down and consumed by guilt. She has to deal with her trampy truanting 16-year old daughter Shelby (Jade Pettyjohn) shacked up with a hoodlum (Beau Knapp) while in the custody of her ex-husband Ethan (Scott McNairy). When Silas (Toby Kebbell) the leader of the old gang suddenly re-emerges, Erin embarks on a quest to find his former associates, bring him to justice and make peace with her tortured past but the implications for everyone connected with her could prove terminal ... I’ve got good news and bad news. There’s nobody fucking watching. But I see who you are. Kidman is absolutely rivetting in a narrative that is all about backstory and how it plays into the present – great writing by Phil Hay and Matt Manfredi with a marvellous reversal of the usual gender expectations, Kidman giving us her version of Bad Lieutenant. This is relentlessly tense but also touching – who couldn’t feel desperately sad when Shelby shows up for an attempt at conciliation by her mother – accompanied by the twentysomething junkie gangster who’s having sex with her? Dreadful. Emma’s demons are internal but they’re also familial, professional, external. It’s probably Kidman’s greatest performance but it’s brilliantly conceived and executed in terms of how it looks (shot by Julie Kirkwood), how it feels and how it plays, with a raft of detailed, memorable character performances by a cast that includes James Jordan, Bradley Whitford and Tatiana Maslany. A tour de force by director Karyn Kusama, and all who sailed with her. Outstanding. What if I know who did it?

 

Blockers (2018)

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What would Vin Diesel do?  Julie (Kathryn Newton), Kayla (Geraldine Viswanathan) and Sam (Gideon Adlon) are high school seniors who make a pact to lose their virginity on prom night. Julie’s mom Lisa (Leslie Mann), Kayla’s sports-obsessed dad Mitchell (John Cena) and Sam’s father, the narcissistic Hunter (Ike Barinholtz), are three overprotective parents who flip out when they find out about their daughters’ plans. They soon join forces for a wild and chaotic quest to stop the girls from sealing the deal – no matter what the cost ... I’m gonna cock block those motherfuckers! An unexpected pleasure, this, as paranoid parenting meets teen rites of passage head-on in an enlightened sex comedy written by Brian Kehoe and Jim Kehoe – with the parents learning life lessons and having some very raunchy full frontal sexcapades of their own while the kids try to navigate complicated levels of awareness of their own needs. The quest/chase narrative by the parents carrying out surveillance on their kids while getting to grips with their own obvious shortcomings is clever. Produced by Seth Rogen and Evan Goldberg, this is directed by Kay Cannon with some very well managed performances. Literally. Just watch Gary Cole and Gina Gershon going for it blindfold!  A rare generation gap movie that gets so much so right. Your greatest friendships are based on shared experiences

Nancy Meyers

Nancy Meyers

Writer/director Nancy Meyers is the most successful woman filmmaker of all time in terms of box office grosses. She began as an assistant to one of Hollywood’s most powerful men, graduated to writing screenplays and now directs her own material with an array of the screen’s finest performers and a regular crew for several of the business’ studios. She is unremarked in academia and rarely gives interviews yet her work displays an ingenuity and style that is both classic and contemporary. Over more than thirty years she has expressed dilemmas at the core of modern female existence with a rich humour and knowing panache.

Romantic comedy is perceived to be quite possibly the most popular of film genres and its characteristic narrative is based on the superficially mismatched heterosexual couple, finally reunited in their pursuit of love once a number of obstacles are surmounted. This is the characteristic form in which writer/director Nancy Meyers places her characters in order to reorganise the emotional coordinates of their lives. Those lives are frequently undone – if temporarily – by the introduction of asymmetry in the form of a typically unsuitable third party in the form of a new lover, old husband, errant child or unwanted temporary suitor. Narratives impose order on chaos, solutions to puzzles, answer to questions, closure on the impenetrable. Meyers is forever writing wrongs in a contemporary reality where divorce is rife, families are extended or ‘blended’, lives are cluttered and things are never easy. Her characters never resort to absolutes or extremes, their passions are ultimately contained, although sometimes her casting choices reflect a wish to play with danger. However, her chosen narrative might more accurately be termed ‘relationship dramedy’.

Meyers’ characters invariably live in incredible homes in affluent settings. She says: “I’m influenced by The Philadelphia Story in which people had a certain kind of glamorous lifestyle, because I think I can write about the foibles of these people and the mistakes they make and the trouble they get themselves into.” Her screen work has frequently appeared in the pages of architecture and interiors magazines. “It all seems to work for the audience if the characters are in a bit of a fancy setting. It just becomes more acceptable to laugh at them in comedies.” (Goodridge, 2009: unpaginated) Yet this downplays her interest in the aesthetics of space and the manner in which she establishes characters, their innerscapes and their relationships.   Perhaps one of Meyers’ greatest contributions to screen stories is the way she has created roles for older women; firstly, for Diane Keaton and later, for Meryl Streep, in films which appeared to lift her writing skills to a new level. For Meyers, film is feeling. In short, It’s Complicated (2009).

If pathways of desire are those ways we make for ourselves as an expedient by which to reach B from A in the shortest time possible, then the films of Nancy Meyers ensure that there is never a quick exit and the way is never free from obstacles or obligations – personal, social, sexual or cultural. These obstacles can frequently be associated with her protagonists’ occupations. Though structurally and overtly formal and conservative in nature, her characters are complex, contemporary people with messy lives and extensive relationship issues that usually hinge on some form of challenge, be it distance, marriage or the frustrations of love. The rhetoric is founded on well-crafted traditions established in classical Hollywood, a structure to which Meyers returns and pays homage with distinctive simplicity and the knowing wink in the occasional self-deprecating disquisition. She offsets the possibility of tragedy or truly disturbing depth by deftly turning the narrative on its head and twisting it into comedy with dialogue redolent of wickedness and Hollywood smarts. Identification for the audience is cultivated by congratulating it on recognising its own cleverness, or, as Quentin Tarantino pointed out, having the protagonist choose Ralph Bellamy over Cary Grant.

As an independent screenwriter/director and producer, she investigates the plight of the middle-aged and single or divorced working woman, particularly as it is invested in the tropes of filmmaking and cinematic rhetoric itself with an elegance of craft which never calls attention to itself but is recognised by affionados of the genre. Hers is a seamless blend of genre and knowing comment with a throughline of undermining humour. Her work constitutes a humorous adult conversation with her audience who have grown up and grown older with her and who share her worries and her joys as she rearticulates the language of classical Hollywood devices. She speaks to and of the contemporary condition. All her films have the same underlying message – don’t lose heart: live a little. And laugh a lot. (In the nicest home you can possibly afford.)

Meyers is the subject of an author study I’ve written available to purchase on Amazon: