London Film Festival Review - Sarah Palin: You Betcha!

Nick Broomfield has explored the lives of many interesting people through his documentaries, most famously Eugene Terre’Blanche and Aileen Wuornos. In his latest film, he turns his camera towards Sarah Palin, the hockey mom that stormed onto the world stage in 2008 as John McCain’s running mate.  

The documentary follows Bromfield as he explores Sarah’s hometown of Wasilla, Alaska, in the dead of winter, hoping to interview the lady herself. Although he spends much of his time slipping on the ice while holding a boom mike, he manages to meet lots of interesting people and finds out about her childhood and rise to power – first as Wasilla’s mayor, then as Alaskan Governor. As it turns out, few of the people who will talk to him are still on speaking terms with Palin. He does, however, meet her parents, who seem very nice. They are a little concerned that he might be making a “hit piece”, though.

They are right to be concerned, because of course Broomfield is not a supporter of Sarah. The film paints a picture of a vindictive, two-faced woman with bizarre religious views who uses people only to drop them like a hot potato once they’ve outlived their usefulness. Unsurprisingly, he never gets his interview with Palin.  

While it is very interesting to see the people that have been left in the wake of the Palin Express, the point of this documentary may have been lost on me. I suppose the original idea was to expose her shortcomings so that her bid for the Republican nomination would be discredited. Unfortunately for the filmmakers (but fortunately for the world) she pulled out of the race shortly after the film was made, making this null and void. But even if she was still running it’s not like the crusading Nick Broomfield would have been a lone dissenting voice, or that anyone who supported her would have given two hoots about some British documentary.

What’s left is a portrait of Palin – a fascinating sociological phenomenon if ever there was one – and in that regard the film falls pretty short. For example, although it goes through her high school sports career in some detail, her relationship with her husband Todd is hardly mentioned. You don’t even find out when they got married, never mind the role he has played in her career (which is hinted at but never directly addressed). The most shocking omission, however, is that the strangest turn of events in Palin’s life isn’t explored – the sudden Republican Vice Presidential nomination in 2008. That error in judgement meant that what was Alaska’s problem became everyone’s problem. The only mention of it in the film reveals something very telling – that the usually long vetting process was cut down to just a few days by the GOP. Why on earth did they pick her?

The answer to that question is also the reason she is so fascinating, and therefore why Broomfield has made a documentary about her – because she is a woman, and a reasonably attractive one at that. The whole affair speaks volumes about America’s political climate, and her genuine popularity in some circles speaks volumes about America.

In hindsight, there was the opportunity here to film for slightly longer and do a real “rise and fall” piece, including all the good footage from Wasilla we see here. As it is, this is an out of date campaigning film, not detailed enough to give a deep exploration of the issues but jokey enough to be entertaining – even if it does take a lot of cheap shots to get a laugh.  

London Film Festival review - Shame

Steve McQueen’s second feature (following the critically acclaimed Hunger) is another bleak film. Shame follows Brandon (Michael Fassbender), a yuppie living in New York with a pristine, minimalist apartment and the world at his feet. Unfortunately, Brandon is a sex addict, and spends every spare moment watching porn on the internet, engaging prostitutes or pleasuring himself in his office toilet. You see, underneath the cool exterior, he isn’t a very happy bunny.  

Into this cloud of self-loathing walks his little sister Sissy (Carey Mulligan), a fragile and slightly zany singer. Brandon is extremely shaken by her presence and the cracks in his carefully carved persona begin to show.

McQueen has crafted a film which completely complements its protagonist – beautiful to look at but sordid and ultimately empty inside. This is a mood piece rather than about story. Not very much happens, it’s not clear what that is, and it takes a long time to get there.

What you get on the way is some absolutely beautiful photography of a gritty and glamorous city. Shots are long, lingering and often not contextualised. The film is very “provocative”, but not dirty. Yes you do see a lot of Michael Fassbender naked, but the sex here is not about audience titillation – it’s about the emotional mess inside Brandon. The score by Harry Escott is wonderfully, sadly dark, and complemented by some great disco tracks which punctuate the story.

However exquisitely crafted, Shame does begin to drag by the end. The trouble is that the characters do not hold your attention. Brandon is a blank slate and Sissy is just annoying. Fassbender and Mulligan do give convincing performances, but there is little in the script to make you care about either of them.

Another concern I have with the film is that it is set in New York. The director is British, the screenwriters are British, the lead actress is British, and the funding is British (it was even partly financed by the UK Film Council).  Why isn’t it set in London? Michael Fassbender could surely have played an Englishman as convincingly as he played an American (and they had to give Brandon an Irish back story to explain his slightly odd accent). Is it just to reach a wider audience? Perhaps our class system limits us to only accepting middle class versions of London through the eyes of Richard Curtis. Can “gritty” British films only be set on council estates? It would have been interesting to see London portrayed in a new way on screen, but that opportunity has been lost.

As it is, set in New York, Shame is a dark art film which asks few questions and gives even fewer answers. Depressing but not satisfyingly so.

London Film Festival review - 50/50

Films about cancer aren’t usually much fun. And they are certainly never funny. 50/50 is something no-one ever expected to see and perhaps never wanted to – a cancer comedy. It’s also one of the best films of the year.

Adam (Joseph Gordon-Levitt) is a health-conscious 27-year-old who suddenly receives a spinal cancer diagnosis. Everyone in his life reacts differently to the news. His best friend (Seth Rogan) urges him to use his newly found pity power to pick up chicks, his already emotionally distant girlfriend (Bryce Dallas Howard) becomes even more flaky, and his mother (Angelica Houston) desperately wants to take care of him. Adam himself is not sure how to deal with the situation, but knows that no-one’s strategy is helping. He is none-the-wiser after meeting with the hospital’s newest therapist (Anna Kendrick), a doctoral student who has read a lot of books but hasn’t quite got the knack of the therapeutic relationship.

Of course, as Adam goes through chemotherapy he starts to reassess his life and discovers what and who is important. This doesn’t happen in the usual sappy, soppy way we’re used to, but in a way that feels authentic. Humour is used as a defence mechanism just as in real life, and the surreal aspects of the disease, treatment and other people’s reactions produce some very funny moments. The authentic feel is not surprising – screenwriter Will Reiser based it on his own experiences of going through cancer with the help of his best friend Seth Rogan.

A great screenplay is elevated further by wonderful performances.  Joseph Gordon Levitt plays Adam in a very understated way, and is quietly outstanding.  Everything is going on inside the character but still shines through in a very naturalistic way. Seth Rogan is very funny as always, and Anna Kendrick, who so impressed in Up In the Air, gives an equally great performance here showing she can do comedy extremely well. Angelica Houston is excellent as the overbearing mother too.

The director Jonathan Levine has captured all this on film with a lovely little indie aesthetic. A rainy Seattle location and some perfectly chosen music really complement the story.

50/50 isn’t about someone bravely overcoming adversity, but about someone who suffers through some very scary times and learns a bit about other people and himself along the way. Treading the line between hilarious and heartbreaking beautifully, it is poignant but never sentimental.

Film review - Red State

As a mega mental fan of Kevin Smith’s View Askewniverse films, seeing Red State is a strange experience. It goes without saying that this is unlike any film he’s made before, but in many ways it is unlike any film anyone has made before.

The story begins with three desperate teenage boys answering an online ad by a woman willing to have a four-way. After some awkward small talk with the lady (Melissa Leo) and some drugged beers, they awake to find themselves held captive by a bizarre church which wants to punish them for their sins.

So far, so Hostel. But this isn’t another torture porn film per se, firstly because the violence isn’t the film’s raison d’être, and secondly because it soon becomes clear that no horror clichés will help you anticipate the plot. You see, this is a satirical message film about the loony Christian right, inspired by the kind of congregations that want to burn other people’s holy books just for the publicity – the kind of people who get followed around by Louis Theroux.

Melissa Leo enraptured

In this case, the church is led by Abin Cooper (Tarantino fave Michael Parks), a snarling, sneering, singing, sermon-ing (that should be a word) patriarch who has been holed up in the woods his whole life and doesn’t take kindly to our modern ways. He and his family believe we are reaching the end times. So when the Feds come calling (led by John Goodman), they are happy to pull a Waco and go to glory in a hail of bullets.

Red State’s genre shifting and strange plot trajectory make it an engrossing watch. The great performances help – Parks is a believable and charismatic monster, Leo is wonderfully stoic and creepy, and Goodman is at his deadpan best as a sad-sack ATF agent. Perhaps most impressive and surprising is Kerry Bishé as Cheyenne, the eldest of Abin’s grandchildren. Last seen in the ill-fated final series of Scrubs, Bishé is just radiant on screen. Confusion, fear and determination are alive in her eyes.

The violence is relentless but not over-the-top. Like the whole of the film, it is very 70s in aesthetic – lots of red blood on brown backgrounds. Photographed by long time collaborator David Klein, it really is Smith’s best looking film to date.

The writing confirms what all his fans know but which might have escaped some critics: Kevin Smith can be serious when he wants to be. But not for very long, as funny moments keep popping up Unsurprisingly the humour is a lot darker than in his other films – think The Wire rather than Walt Flanagan. Although there could have been some trimming (the sermon scene definitely goes on too long), this is interesting, thoughtful work.

Smith has stated that this will be his penultimate film, which is a shame. Worn down by the battering he received for Jersey Girl (a sweet film which was the victim of circumstance – though not a patch on the similarly themed Jack and Sarah) and Cop Out (which was just bad), he’s going to concentrate on his internet radio business and whatever else takes his fancy. With Red State he’s put these ghosts to bed and done himself proud, which I think was really the point.