Category Archives: films

Film review: ’71 – Life with the safety catch off

Main cast

Jack O’Connell as Gary Hook

Richard Dormer as Eamon

Charlie Murphy as Brigid

David Wilmot as Boyle

Sean Harris as Captain Sandy Browning

Killian Scott as James Quinn

Sam Reid as Lt. Armitage

Barry Keoghan as Sean

Paul Anderson as Sergeant Leslie Lewis

Martin McCann as Paul Haggerty

Corey McKinley as Loyalist child

Directed by the Frenchman Yann Demange

Running time : 100 minutes

The best film I have seen this year.  Throughout 2014 the cinema goer has been besieged with new releases which variously play fast and loose with history  for reasons of political correctness (for example, Belle),  are saturated with gratuitous sentimentality (Interstellar), purport to be serious films but have  insultingly preposterous plots (Fury) or are exercises in directorial indulgence  which result in overlong and flabby films (Mr Turner).   Consequently, 71 is a welcome respite from so much  flawed film-making,  including a fair amount of seriously  sub-standard work from directors who should know better.

The film is unremittingly good. It is set in the Belfast of 1971 where The Troubles have already taken firm hold with Catholic and Protestant  paramilitaries  well established and the British army caught in the middle as they try to maintain some semblance of public order.  Private Gary Hook  (Jack O’Connell) is a working-class  squaddie  from Derbyshire who is on his first posting after undergoing basic training.

Shortly after arriving in Ulster Hook’s  platoon is sent to support a police action  in a nationalist area.  They are confronted by a violent mob who isolate Hook and another soldier to whom they administer savage beatings.  Then the other soldier is shot in the  head from close range and killed.  At that point Hook’s inexperienced platoon commander Lt. Armitage ( Sam Reid) panics and withdraws his platoon  unforgivably leaving  Hook behind.

Although badly beaten Hook manages to escape in the general confusion after the shooting  and the rest of the film is devoted to his attempts to rejoin his platoon. This involves many subplots, including dirty business on the part of the British army in collusion with Loyalists , factional fighting within the Provos – Haggerty (Martin McCann) and Sean (Barry Keoghan) are plotting against their own chiefs – collusion between renegade Republican terrorists and the British, all of this set against the backdrop of the rock-solid division between Protestant  Loyalists and Catholic Republicans.

Hook’s journey to get back to his platoon sees him befriended by a Loyalist boy  whose father is high in the ranks of Loyalist paramilitaries. The boy (played by Corey McKinley) is only on screen for around 15 minutes but in that time this gives  a performance of astonishing self-assuredness and personality.  He takes Hook to a pub where the boy’s  father , in collusion with British intelligence operatives  led by  Captain Sandy Browning (Sean Harris), is  arranging to plant   a bomb in the Republican Divis Flats. Hook recognises the British intelligence men and sees the bomb  before he is hustled away  and told to wait in the bar for someone to collect him who will take him back to barracks.  But Hook wanders just  outside the pub and almost immediately  the bomb intended for the Divis Flats explodes accidentally in the bar  (incidentally killing the boy)  and creates chaos which persuades Hook to go on the run again.

Hook now has two enemies:  Republicans who want to kill him and the undercover British intelligence officers  who  want to do the same after he has seen them with the bomb and the would-be bombers.

Further injured by the bomb,  Hook is then  found by a couple of Catholics, a father and daughter (Richard Dormer as Eamon and Charlie Murphy as Brigid). The father has been an army medic and patches Hook up even though they know he is a British soldier.  But the Republicans  are still searching for him Hook and track him to the flat where he is lying up. Hook overhears one of the Republicans chasing him talking at the front door and slips out the back.  This leaves Eamon and Brigit in danger from the Provos as suspected collaborators.

From there Hook is on the run  until he is captured by the Republicans pursuing him.  He survives because a teenaged  would- be  Republican hard man is asked to shoot him in cold blood  but cannot do it. This  delays matters just long enough for  Browning and his irregulars   to arrive where they   engage in  a very convincing and  victorious gun fight with the Republicans. Browning and his men inadvertently  rescue Hook  whom they wish to kill to make sure he can say nothing about the criminal collusion he has witnessed between Loyalists and British intelligence, but  they have to drop the idea when an attempt to strangle  Hook  is stopped because too many eyes of those who are not  part of  Browning’s crew  are witnessing it.

Back in barracks Hook tries to tell his commanding officer about the bomb plot between Browning and Loyalists , but   his CO  refuses to listen and effectively orders him to remain  silent. The film ends with Hook a disenchanted man in a morally fragile world.

Because of the episodic  nature of the film only O’Connell  has any chance to give a dominant performance.  In fact this is not a role which allows such a performance  because Hook is someone to whom things happen.  But O’Connell does just what is required being neither in control nor a quivering nervous wreck .  He is simply an ordinary inexperienced workingclass  squaddie  doing his very best in difficult circumstances. Doggedness is the word for his character. The other actors are all convincing insofar as  the brevity of their  roles allowed,  with   Richard Dormer as Eamon the medic being particularly impressive with his mixture of toughness and compassion. The many and varied Northern Irish accents with their blunt and unapologetic masculinity  amplify the potent combination of fear,  threat, claustrophobic suspicion  and anarchy which envelops the film.

The look of the film is impressive. It was filmed in Blackburn not Belfast,   but the unpretentious  terraced street, as  stark as the action which takes place around and in them ,  are just right for the story. They are  littered variously with ruined vehicles,  damaged shops, smoke, mobs  and the flickering figures of people from all quarters either up to up good or simply being swept along by the drama of an extraordinary ordinary life.   The crowd scenes of Catholics  called out at the  drop of a hat by the Provos  are particularly impressive, while the setting of  much of the film in the night-time with fires burning and smoke swirling often gives it a demonic  air,

Every scene  has a  point and  the action moves at a cracking pace. This is helped by the fact that the  film  runs for  a spare 100 minutes,   so there is no temptation for the director to be self-indulgent and throw in everything including the kitchen sink simply because he has shot it.

This is a world in which no loyalties are certain and calamity waits to swallow anyone up. It is life with the safety catch off.

The appetite for Englishness in films

What qualifies as a “culturally English film”?  How about this:   it is a film which either has an English context such as The Libertine or has a  cast  which  consists wholly or largely of  English  actors  playing “English”, for example, Girl with  Pearl Earing.

English  themes  and English actors have always had a good bite of  the Anglophone filmic cherry,  but they are making   a particularly  strong showing in recent years.  A look at the all time global box office, that is,  money taken solely at the box office, is revealing.

Of  the ten  largest grossing English language films in history,  six  have an indubitably English ambiance:   Alice in Wonderland (Tim Burton), Lord of the Rings: the return of the king  and two each of the Lord of the Rings and Pirates of the Carribean.  The odd men out are Avatar, Titanic, Toy Story 3 and  the Dark Knight.  http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_highest-grossing_films

Three of the odd men out  have significant  English  flavour,  whether from overtly  English  characters  (Titanic, Shrek) ,   a  story  with  English  associations (Titanic) or actors using an English persona (Star Wars,  for  example, the  characters of Obi wan Kenobi,  the Galactic President and   C3PO).

The six highest grossing English language film franchises are in descending order Harry Potter, Star Wars, James Bond, Shrek, Lord of the Rings, Pirates of the Carribean.  http://finance.yahoo.com/family-home/article/111362/highest-grossing-film-franchises . Of these only Star Wars and Shrek do not have a specifically English tone.   (The Chronicles of Narnia and  His Dark Materials – both very English in tone – also have the making of lasting franchises. )

It is true that those  films and franchises are are ranked on revenues unadjusted for inflation.* However, that does not stop them for being a a good  pointer to what was popular.  What they tell us is that there is a considerable appetite for Englishness amongst modern film goers. (It is also true that adjusting for inflation has its problems  because of changing exchange rates and multiplying tickets sold by an average present-day ticket price is a dubious practice because ticket sale data is often dubious, especially for older films).

What is the attraction of Englishness?

It  is obvious why Englishness should have appeal within  England,  but why does it have international appeal? The fact that we have English is our  language might seem  a significant advantage internationally,  but it  is  doubtful whether that advantage actually counts  for  much   in practice  because English films are competing against large numbers  of other  Anglophone films,  including the output of the most potent  film industry in the world, that of America.

If  it  is not the language is it  the nature of the  films  themselves which attract?  Perhaps part of the  reason for the recent success lies in the type of Englishness that is  generally  depicted.  What  foreign audiences see most are versions of  middle and upper class Englishness.

Often  this  is a version of Englishness which has a  large  dollop  of fantasy such as  that shown in “Notting Hill”  or is Englishness in  an historical  setting,  with Jane Austen and  Dickens   adaptions   being perennial favourites.  But even these films,  somewhat distant as  they may  be from the realities of modern English life,  still have  a  very English feel to them. The settings are English,  the voices are English and above all the  personalities are English.

Such  films  have  the  dramatic advantage of  both  appealing  to  the foreigner’s general stereotype of the English, which is largely derived from the English middle and upper classes, and of providing unusual and glamorous settings.  Such themes and settings also mean these are often characters   who have influence and power and a good deal to lose,  all good dramatic material.

There  is also the legacy of the British Empire,  an institution  which was  not only dominated by the English in terms of personnel  but  also culturally – the history and literature taught to colonial peoples  was English  to  the end and the institutions implanted –  Parliaments  and Common  Law – were English institutions.  Even after the end of  Empire the   BBC,  particularly the World Service,  continued to  project  the middle/upper  class version of Englishness through the dominant use  of received pronunciation speakers.

The   Empire   was  an institution  which  affected  not  merely  those peoples  and  territories  which were  formally  colonised   but  other  countries such as Argentina,   countries which were  heavily influenced  by English capital and settlers.   Nor was the Empire simply that which existed at its end,  vast as that  was in both geographical and  ethnic scope.  There  is  also  the USA, which  was  an  English  founded  and culturally dominated state, hence the fact that its language is English and  its  most  important public  institutions  variations  of  English institutions. More of the USA later.

Perhaps  there is also a purely aesthetic aspect of the attraction.  It could  be that the English middle class/upper class persona  is  simply arresting,  interesting in itself. In particular,  perhaps that persona seems specially  apt for characters in position of power and privilege.

It  is  worth noting that important  people  in English language  films dealing  with  historical  subjects  have  long  been  acknowledged  by Hollywood   to  be best played by English received  pronunciation  (RP) speakers.  This  trait began early in the history of  the  Talkies  and continues to this day.  In the recent film Troy only Brad Pitt  playing Achilles “disgraced” himself by  not being able to muster a serviceable RP  voice.  Received  pronunciation and the  persona  it  creates   may naturally   seem  authoritative not merely to the English but  to  many other peoples, even if those peoples are not naturally well disposed to the English.

The dramatic shape  of English films must also play its part.  Take the three great English “franchises”:   LOTR, Harry Potter and James  Bond. In  addition to their Englishness they  all have  very strong  dramatic architecture.

Tolkein wrote the Lord of the Rings as a conscious attempt to create an English  myth  and  he does admirably  evoke  a  rural  pre-industrial,  timeless  England.    He also succeeded in creating an English Odyssey, a  world  full of the magical and fantastical.   Harry  Potter  is  the English public school story brought up to date and cunningly mixed with magic and co-education. Bond is the spy thriller plus social cachet.

The LOTR appeals to  the deep human  thirst   for myths,  of  something utterly beyond the everyday. It is a world of trolls and magicians,  of warriors  and beautiful high born ladies.   Tolkein  is first  rate  at creating  archetypes,  especially   Sauran (Evil),  Gandulf  (the  good magician  with a touch of the messiah) and Aragorn (the  perfect  hero, noble  in thought and deed,  beautiful,   great at arms,   gracious  in manner,  brave  beyond what is human and above all  utterly  resolute).

LOTR attracts for the same reasons the Odyssey and Iliad have  captured the  imagination  for the better part of  three thousand years.  It  is epic.

The  English public school story succeeds firstly because it is  gives, Jane Austen-like, a small, enclosed  society upon which to hang a drama. The  traditional English Public school story has verve.  The  boys  are anything  but  solemn.  There  is a good  variety  of  personality  and  interest.  There is competition within forms,  within houses,  and with other  schools.  Games loom large. The interplay between characters  is between adults and children,  something which is rare in other types of films where children are generally absent or peripheral.  But   the  success  of the public school story  is  more  than  just  a  setting. One only has to see an American attempt at the same theme such as  Dead  Poets  Society to realise that merely setting a  story  in  a boarding school is not enough. Dead Poets Society is dreadfully earnest and  the boys so lacking in genuine high spirits as to be mere  wraiths compared to the robust English fictional schoolboy in the line from Tom Brown  and Scud East onwards through to Bob Cherry and  William Brown.

There  is  an  essence of Englishness which needs to be  added  to  the setting. The Harry Potter phenomenon is not difficult to explain.  Add magic  to the   traditional   public  school  mixture  and   the   already   rich opportunities for plot and character are greatly multiplied.  Children, despite  the  hype  about adult Potter devotees,   make  up  the  large majority  of  Potter  fans.  They naturally  gravitate  towards  school stories   because it is their world. Children also adore  the  idea  of magic,  not  least because the world of  children,  particularly  young children,  is subjectively magical because the child  is  inexperienced and   deals  with  what they do not understand by  comforting  acts  of imagination.    The secret of HP’s success is Rowling’s creation  of  a convincing  children’s  world  which  includes   the  escape  from  the everyday.

As  for Bond,  spy stories  are of course widely popular but none  have the  glamour or lasting power of Bond.  That is because   Bond is  much more  than  a spy.  He is a state authorised killer but  he is  also  a gent,  an old Etonian,  expelled at the age of 14 for having an  affair with  one of the school’s maids,  and a practised seducer of  women  in adult life.  Such a background allows him to move in privileged circles with  their concomitant glamour.   Bond  is a gentleman heavy  just  as Raffles  is  a gentleman burglar.  He gives  the viewer the  thrill  of violence and sex wrapped in gentility.

The irrelevance of “relevance”

The  success  of films such as LOTR and Harry Potter dismay  those  who believe  that  people  will  only show an interest  in  that  which  is relevant to their lives.  How, they wail,  can people  be so fascinated by   the  depiction  of societies so unlike,  at  least  superficially, their  own  experience?  How  can the  creatures  of  privilege  be  so attractive?   The  obvious answer is simple:  human beings  most  enjoy dramas  which  are removed from the familiar mandating   of  their  own lives.

There  is  nothing  new in this. Shakespeare’s plays are  full  of  the doings  of kings,   nobles and gentry which dominate the doings of  the common  man,   yet  from  their  first  performances   they  played  to audiences  with  a  large  proportion drawn from  the  lower  ranks  of society.  Films   from their early days have done a  roaring  trade  in showing  the  great at work and play.    In the heyday of  the  British boys’  comic,  George Orwell wrote an essay wondering about the immense fascination which the Greyfriars stories (those with Billy Bunter,  Bob Cherry et al) held for working class boys who bought the Magnet in vast numbers.  They  did  so for the same reason  that  workingclass  adults watched  films  of lives different  from  their own but not so removed from their understanding to be alien: it provided  exciting  novelty without weirdness.  That is probably much of the answer  to why Englishness is popular in film today.

*In  real  terms  earlier films such as Gone With  the  Wind  had  world  grosses  larger than the films listed above,  but the circumstances  of  modern  film distribution are completely different from what they  were  when Gone with the Wind was made (1940),  or even what they were twenty  years  ago.  When  Gone With the Wind came out the  only  way  for  the  ordinary  person to see a film when it was released was in a cinema,  a  situation  which essentially remained   until the advent of  videotape.  Now the ordinary person can not only go to the cinema, they can get the film  not long after its release on DVD and often see it on  television within a year.

Englishness in Films – Master and Commander

Released 2003  

Director Peter Weir

Main cast

Captain Jack Aubrey …. Russell Crowe

Dr. Stephen Maturin …. Paul Bettany

First Lt. Thomas Pullings …. James D’Arcy

Second Lt. William Mowett …. Edward Woodall

Midshipman Lord William Blakeney …. Max Pirkis

Barrett Bonden, Captain’s Coxswain…. Billy Boyd

This is a most unusual form of “chase” film.   Adapted from the  Patrick O’Brien novel of the same title,  it is  set  in 1805. (O’Brien’s book  has  the  privateer as American,  but in the post-liberty world of 911 America Hollywood and American bad guys do not go together.)   A  Royal Navy frigate The Surprise with orders to “burn, sink, or take her a prize” is in pursuit of  a French  privateer Acheron  which has been preying on British  shipping on  the  Spanish  Main (the mainland of the American continent enclosing the Caribbean Sea and the Gulf of Mexico). The Acheron is eventually captured after a chase which includes going round the Horn.

As  a dramatic vehicle,  a  ship  has the same advantages  as the  country-house,   boarding  school,  POW  camp  or  small village: it is a self-contained world with sufficient numbers of  people to be interesting but not too many  to   overwhelm the action or the development of character.  And so it proves here.   

Although it is an action film,  it is about as far from being the mindless if enjoyable mayhem of a Terminator film as  can be  imagined.  The  fight  scenes,  broadsides  and  boarding parties  included,  take perhaps thirty minutes out  of  more than  two  hours.    This  allows  plenty  of  time  for  the development of character,  most notably between  the captain, Jack Aubrey,  and his ship’s surgeon and naturalist,  Stephen  Maturin.  But  there is also space  for  other  subordinate stories such as the friendship between two midshipman,  which        has elements of Tom Brown and Scud East.  

Russell  Crowe as  Aubrey and Paul Bettany   as Maturin,  are both  first  rate.   Crowe does what  he  did  in  Gladiator,  inhabit a role which allows his ability to portray a man with both  natural authority and  humanity full reign,  this  time with bonus of being the nearest thing to an absolute  monarch known to English society,   captain of  a Royal Naval ship at the  beginning of the 19th century.   (His RP English  accent is  almost  perfect – the odd  vowel  sound  goes awry.) 

As  for Bettany,  he showed what he suggested in A  beautiful mind,  that rarest of qualities in an actor: the portrayal of intellect.  Probably only Ralph Fiennes amongst  present  day actors  could  do it as well and he with more  coldness  than Bettany, who made his character here a thoroughly sympathetic one.  There is an exquisite scene when Maturin has to operate on himself to remove a bullet  beneath his ribs.    He  asked          Crowe  whether he is up to assisting him with a steady  hand.  “My  dear doctor,  “  replies Crowe,  “I have spent  my  life around  blood and wounds.”  A few minutes into the  operation Crowe looks distinctly queasy and Bettany between grimaces of  pain  allows himself a triumphant smile.   Almost  worth  the price of entrance in itself.

The supporting cast are uniformly good,  especially the  very young midshipmen – their age historically correct: Nelson was a captain by the age of 20 – one of whom has an arm amputated early  in the film – no anaesthetic mind –  and then  becomes Bettany’s protege as a naturalist.

The  film  is visually beautiful and  exciting.  With  ninety percent at least of the film set on the Surprise at sea,  the ocean  is seen in all its  states from doldrum calm  to  Cape Horn belligerent.    The small part of the story which is  on  land takes place in  the Galapagos where Maturin indulges his naturalist’s passion.  Those scenes have a cold,  uncluttered beauty about them.

Above all it is also an intensely  English film.    The cast, even where they are technically other than English,  such  as Maturin   (supposedly  an  Irishman),  are  all   played   as Englishmen  and  the entire crew – with the  exception  of  a nervous midshipman who tops himself –  all behave well. It is simply the best advert for Englishness seen on the screen for many a long year.

There  is  a small amount of “England expects”  dialogue  but really  very  little  considering the context  of  the  film. Instead, the  “advert”  for England consists  simply  of Englishmen behaving well.