Reviews - Hollywood Authentic

November 15, 2024

Photographs by REBECCA DICKSON, ANTON RODRIGUEZ, ELEONORA BOSCARELLI and CHARLIE MCKAY
Words by ABBIE CORNISH

Hollywood Authentic’s restaurant correspondent Abbie Cornish enjoys a British twist on Mexican classics in a Michelin-starred Marylebone must-visit.

Chef Santiago Lastra has a skill in bringing ingredients to life that may otherwise be perceived as simple or ordinary, re-inventing them in a more complex, interesting and unique way. A spin on the Spanish word ‘col’, meaning cabbage, the name is certainly symbolic and harmonious with Lastra’s special talent – transforming a commonly known word into an innovative creation, just like Lastra’s menu itself.

Abbie Cornish, Chef Santiago Lastra, Diner, Kol, London

Located in the beautiful neighborhood of Marylebone in London, KOL embodies the heart and soul of Mexico, honoring its cultural traditions, reimagined with local British produce. With a desire to ‘transport people to different places in which they feel like they’re in a different world’, Lastra has orchestrated a fine dining experience that will delight the taste buds and ignite one’s appetite with its captivating and delectable dishes. Since opening in 2020 the restaurant has garnered many awards and accolades, one of which is a Michelin star, and more recently was named 17th best restaurant in the World’s 50 Best. Satisfaction is guaranteed in more ways than one, and it’s safe to say you can add KOL to your up-and-coming dining list in London, and move it straight to the top.

The space itself, envisaged by Chef Lastra and designed by Alessio Nardi, brings the essence of Mexico to London. Clean lines of a Danish/Nordic design are evident, working cohesively alongside a vibe reminiscent of the late ’70s and early ’80s in Mexico City. The vibe is rustic, cozy, yet sophisticated and stylish. The kitchen, oven, and chimney are front and centre. Original wood and leather furniture (by Nardi) are complemented by handcrafted ceramics sourced from local UK and Ireland-based artists. The attention to detail is admirable, all of which makes for an agreeable and pleasant surround.

Before London, Lastra worked with Andoni Aduriz at Mugaritz in San Sebastian and with René Redzepi and Noma on their seven-week residency in Mexico. He travelled extensively across Europe, southeast Asia, Japan and Russia (27 countries in all), showcasing the diversity of Mexico’s recipes and cultural heritage, using only ingredients sourced from each destination along the way. He studied at the Arte Culinario Coronado in Mexico, completed a Master’s Degree in Culinary Innovation at the Basque Culinary Center in Spain and a development course at the Nordic Food Lab at the University of Copenhagen in Denmark. All of which led Chef Lastra to KOL. A passionate and somewhat ambitious venture, and one that has proved to be successful, award-worthy, much loved, and a great addition to London’s West End.

In the main dining area is a 14-course tasting menu only, and can be paired with a selection of wine and/or Mezcal. A shorter seven-course menu is available upon request at lunch from Wednesday to Friday. Guests can also enjoy off-menu items along with an extensive beverage menu in the restaurant’s Mezcaleria, a relaxed Oaxacan-inspired and cozy watering hole. For the tasting menus, expect an interesting array of wild food and seasonality in dishes that reflect the bright, fresh flavors of Mexican cooking.

Seasonal and natural, the food is light and healthy. And the overall experience is captivating and dynamic. I loved the langoustine taco made with smoked chilies and sea buckthorn, inspired by ‘lobsters on the beach’ off the coast of Mexico, in between Ensenada and Tijuana. The langoustines, sourced from Scotland, are freshly caught and available all year round, making this dish a staple on the menu. The langoustines are roasted with chilies and sauerkraut, and are delicately dressed with the juice of a sour berry that is grown locally on the coast. Served on tortillas made with duck fat and sourdough bread, these tacos are a warm, tantalizing delight. Also well worth a mention is the guacamole ice cream. A guacamole (sans avocado) made with hemp seeds and courgettes. The courgettes are sliced and cooked, just enough to break them down, after which hemp seeds are added and a creamy avocado-like ice cream is made. Served with a crumble of corn masa, pico de gallo, and handpicked sunflower seeds and finished with sunflower petals, caviar sauce (aged seven months), along with smoked oil and fermented blueberries. This dish is delectable to say the least.

KOL has an outstanding selection of mezcal, and a solid wine list, highlighting orange and natural wines, from different parts of Europe and central Eastern Europe. The handcrafted cocktails are top notch. My favorite cocktail is the ‘La Cigala’. Made with rhubarb, whiskey, mezcal, and verjus, this sparkling cocktail is great on its own and also pairs perfectly with the langoustine taco. Allergies and dietary restrictions are accommodated upon request. Vegetarian and vegan menus are also available. Overall KOL is a delightful, delicious, progressive, and entertaining restaurant. Extensively researched, it’s more than just a dining experience. It’s a front-row seat to a performance that is the culmination of seven years of dedicated study and development by Chef Santiago Lastra. I highly encourage you to take a seat and enjoy the show!

Photographs by REBECCA DICKSON, ANTON RODRIGUEZ, ELEONORA BOSCARELLI and CHARLIE MCKAY
Words by ABBIE CORNISH
KOL, 9 Seymour Street, Marylebone, London W1H 7BA
www.kolrestaurant.com

The Favourite

THE CONVERSATION

November 15, 2024

Words by KRYSTY WILSON-CAIRNS

The Academy Award-nominated screenwriter of 1917, Last Night in Soho and The Good Nurse, Krysty Wilson-Cairns, salutes a series of mishaps that honed Francis Ford Coppola’s unfinished espionage film into a perfect classic.

The foundational years that formed my sense of myself as a writer took place mostly in isolation. Initially in a bedroom, then in a series of bedrooms. Sometimes perhaps punctuated by sessions in the real world, cocooned from it in a pair of noise-cancelling headphones. This useful isolation from the world became, more than anything, a badge of validation. ‘Look! How she squints in the daylight. Gaze upon her ghostly pallor.’ I was serious. I was a writer.

Because at the end of the process I would inevitably emerge back into society with something to show. I would emerge with a screenplay. And without a screenplay, what would the directing students direct, what would the acting students act? As a screenwriting student, I knew the truth. No matter how much the auteur theory was hammered into the directing students and the art of improvisation fed to the actors, the screenplay was key. I understood my work to be something immutable. Sent out in the world complete. Like a painting or a photograph.

Francis Ford Coppola, Gene Hackman, Paramount Pictures, The Conversation — *The Conversation* poster, 1974. Alamy

At that time, my favoured texts were the ones that worked hard to get the win. The sharp, twisty thrillers that showed a masterful corralling of the audience’s attention from beginning to end. Those films that took you one way before pulling the rug out from under you. Most of all, I loved the paranoid thrillers that came out of the USA in the ’70s. Three Days of the Condor, The Parallax View, Klute… films that spun the audience a web of lies and confusion before pulling out the rug from under them and saying, ‘No, this is how it really is.’ Paranoid, anxious, tightly wound. (In no way a reflection of my mind at the time…)

Above them all stood The Conversation. A sparse, taut, tense thriller starring Gene Hackman alongside the late, great John Cazale (can any actor have given so much in such a tragically short career?). With cameos from Frederic Forrest, Robert Duvall, Harrison Ford, Teri Garr and Cindy Willams, The Conversation was at the apex of the talent that defined the New Hollywood of that decade.

Written and directed by the great Francis Ford Coppola, if any film was evidence of the primacy of the screenplay it was The Conversation – 112 minutes of terse, tight character action. Hackman (never better) plays Harry Caul, a reclusive, emotionally closed private investigator who is hired by a mysterious client to record a seemingly mundane conversation. Inevitably the job is not as simple as sold and Harry is left contemplating the morality of his work, along with his role in the world. What feels like very low stakes to begin with soon becomes a matter of life or death.

But that’s not why I loved it. I loved it for the exactitude of the writing. The entire plot hinging on a glorious pay-off at the end that relies on, of all things, intonation of key dialogue. ‘He’d kill us if he got the chance’ is the line you’ll remember from this film. It’s what everything leads towards and, despite its intonation being somewhat lost in the multiple languages in subtitles on the screen during its premiere at Cannes, it still won the Palme D’Or that year – and rightly so. Could anything be more writerly? More illustrative of the primacy of the script, of the screenwriter’s intentionality? That Coppola, the writer, pulls us through his world for almost two whole hours before pulling it all out from under us with something so simple as the emphasis of a pronoun! Except, of course, he didn’t… well not exactly.

Imagine my surprise when at a BFI screening and Q&A, Walter Murch, the film’s sound designer and editor, suggested an alternative. In Murch’s retelling, an entirely different version of Coppola’s film was originally planned: one that stuck closely to a bloated 157-page screenplay. As fate would have it, Coppola was called early to start shooting his next studio tentpole, The Godfather Part II, leaving the much smaller, more experimental The Conversation with 78 scenes yet to be shot. Seventy-eight!
And so, Coppola flew off, leaving the existing footage in the very capable, but rather green, hands of the young Walter Murch. Coppola just told Murch: ‘Do what you can.’

None of the scenes in which Harry tracks down the girl, gets all the answers and discovers the real story had been shot. So, the film’s narrative, as it existed in celluloid, in stacked 35mm reels in the editing room, currently had no denouement. Faced with a film missing over a fifth of its screenplay, with little chance of additional shooting days from the studio, and with his director on the other side of the country, Murch did the only thing he could. He tore up the screenplay and worked with what he had.

In one ingenious move, Murch completely redesigned the film’s story and structure. The film’s pivotal scene takes place in the aftermath of a drunken party. The woman Harry has slept with steals the vital recordings, forcing Harry into action and the film towards its conclusion. Only, the way the scene was written (and filmed) was originally much more throwaway – the woman’s role in the film was to validate Harry’s distrust, not further the plot (she originally only steals plans for a recording device for Harry’s competitor).

By thrusting a minor character into the thick of the plot, Murch consolidated the two storylines, and all it took was a single additional shot – a cutaway of Harry’s arms revealing the stolen tape reels. Using Hackman’s brother as a stand-in, Murch recreated the set in a corner of a stage being used by another film that was shooting at the time – Chinatown. They didn’t even have to pay for the camera hire. In that one move, an unwieldy, twisty, 240-minute thriller becomes a tight, sparse, sinewy sub-two-hour masterpiece.

You might ask, as a writer, what of the excised material would I be interested in seeing restored? The answer: none of it. From my current perspective, as one who has emerged from the cave, and who has been on set during the filming and in the edit of all the films I’ve written, I’ve been able to experience first-hand how much the story evolves and needs to evolve during the filmmaking process. I now know all too well that the primacy of the screenplay (much like the auteur theory) is a fallacy. An illusion, to justify those weeks spent in the dark. Typing. Alone. Who am I to assume that whatever motivation I conjured while sitting in my pyjamas will ring true after an actor has brought life to it in front of a camera years later.

If it’s not in the film, it doesn’t exist. The casting, the designing, the actual shooting takes that immutable thing – the screenplay – and whittles it, hones it and sometimes just negates it for something else truer, which is what we see on screen. And that line that I loved, ‘He’d kill us if he got the chance’ – that intonation that expertly shifts emphasis, turning a repeated, innocuous plea into a wilful declaration of violence? A happy accident. A mistake by the actor, marked on the day as a bad take, destined for the cutting-room floor, but that ultimately replaced the work of 78 unshot scenes of slow realisation with the time it takes to say eight words. I like to be efficient when I write, but this is a next level of genius, and a perfect example of the screenwriter’s mantra – show it, don’t tell it. Famous for going back and re-editing his own films, The Conversation was the one film that Coppola had always thought was ‘perfect, just the way it is’. Because of course, it is. It’s perfect. It may have come about through a series of mishaps and the incredible talent of Murch’s editing, but it couldn’t be any other way.

Words by KRYSTY WILSON-CAIRNS
The Conversation (1974), Paramount Pictures, written and directed by Francis Ford Coppola, starring Gene Hackman. Available on Apple TV

On Location

ON THE ROAD

November 15, 2024

Words and photographs by LAURA SYMONS & DAMIAN HARRIS

It may be winter, but the desert always offers sun. One of our travel correspondents, Laura Symons, takes a spin out of LA with writer/director Damian Harris to find cinematic desert vistas and quirky road trip stops fit for a Chairman and a King.

DAMIAN
Los Angeles and the desert: both exist for most of us in the movies or TV, and everyone has their own favourite moment. The first idea I had of the city and the surrounding desert was from Roman Polanski and Robert Towne’s Chinatown, when John Huston told Jack Nicholson (and which was the premise of the film) that, ‘Either you bring the water to LA or you bring LA to the water.’

road trip, laura symons, damian harris — Chinatown, 1974. Paramount Pictures/Alamy

The trip to the desert means setting off east on Interstate 10, heading towards Palm Springs on the same route as the iconic credit sequence in Paul Schrader’s American Gigolo (1980), with Richard Gere driving his convertible black Mercedes 450SL while Blondie blasts ‘Call Me’, on his way to service another wife (this time while the husband watches). US audiences went crazy when Gere first appeared on screen and a sex icon, especially a gay sex icon, was born. Seven years later in the film adaptation of Bret Easton Ellis’ Less Than Zero, the same highway is the setting as the drug-addicted character played by Robert Downey Jr. dies in the front seat of Andrew McCarthy’s red ’59 Chevy Corvette convertible, from a beating drug dealer James Spader gave him, while Jami Gertz looks on helplessly to Thomas Newman’s lush score and the sweeping camera of director Marek Kanievska.

More recently, Palm Springs was the setting for the hilarious time-loop comedy of the same name (2020), in which Andy Samberg finds himself replaying the same day at a desert destination wedding, where he intended to off himself. Naturally he finds true love and a renewed zest for life. The opening sequence for Don’t Worry Darling (2022) was filmed in the famous Kaufmann House, and the majority of Olivia Wilde’s film was shot in and around the desert city, made dazzlingly beautiful by cinematographer Matthew Libatique. Liberace’s Palm Springs’ mansion is the setting for the final months of his life in Behind The Candelabra (2013) Steven Soderbergh’s examination of the relationship between Liberace, played by Michael Douglas, and his younger lover Scott Thorson, played by Matt Damon. Both are excellent.

Palm Springs has been a host to Hollywood legends over the years. After a string of flops and believing his career over, Cary Grant retreated to his home in Palm Springs in 1953 to live out his retirement, that is until frequent house guest Alfred Hitchcock succeeded in luring him back to the screen two years later to star in To Catch A Thief (which kick-started the huge career resuscitation that included North By Northwest, An Affair To Remember and Charade.)

Steve McQueen was a legend when it came to motorbikes (or anything over 80 mph). It was on the desert roads outside Palm Springs, where he lived, and in Joshua Tree that he would ride his beloved motorbikes on the endless empty desert roads for hours, perhaps rehearsing the ending of The Great Escape when he jumps two of the three barbed wire fences, falling at the third.

Elvis Presley was introduced to Palm Springs by his manager Colonel Tom Parker who had a home there. Elvis leased architect William Krisel’s aptly named House of Tomorrow and, with his upcoming marriage to Priscilla, renamed it Elvis Honeymoon Hideaway. He had intended to be married in the house but gossip columnist Rona Barrett’s leak in the press forced the young couple to sneak out late at night on Frank Sinatra’s private jet and instead tie the knot in Vegas. Later, in 1970, Elvis would buy his own home and spend three months a year there till he passed in 1977. The most famous Palm Springs resident was probably Frank Sinatra, (see the 2018 doc Sinatra in Palm Springs). He never made a film there, but he did perform in nightclubs and concert halls both alone and with his Rat Pack. He famously dubbed his Palm Springs home the ‘west coast White House’ in hopes of luring then-President JFK to come stay, even building a helicopter pad with the presidential seal painted on it. JFK did come to stay, but the bait was more likely house guest Marilyn Monroe.

About an hour from Palm Springs is Joshua Tree, and a totally different vibe. In the 1940s, Hollywood came to this part of the desert to make western films and TV series, due to it being both a closer and more convenient location than Arizona, Utah and Texas. Pioneertown was born, conceived as both a working set and residential area. Over 50 films and TV shows were made here during the ’40s and ’50s. The desert itself has been a location to several films, one of the more famous is Martin McDonagh’s Seven Psychopaths (2012), where Colin Farrell, Sam Rockwell and Christopher Walken hide out in Joshua Tree from gangster Woody Harrelson, resulting in peyote-inspired desert wanderings and stand-offs. Less famous is the comedy horror film Crack Whore about a young girl who comes to party in Joshua Tree but instead gets into escalating trouble with drugs and gangs. As I said, it’s a different vibe in the desert.

Go directly west till you hit the sea and Laguna Beach, a favourite of Hollywood for its coastal location. In 1942 constrained by a world war, it stood in for Buenos Aires in Bette Davis’ Now, Voyager, later in 1954’s A Star Is Born, Judy Garland and James Mason picnic by the beach and Garland sings ‘It’s a New World’ (both scenes were initially cut from the released version but restored 30 years later). More recently in 2012, Oliver Stone made Laguna Beach fun and sexy in Savages as Blake Lively romped in a threesome with Taylor Kitsch and Aaron Taylor-Johnson (worth seeing also for the over-the-top turns of villains Salma Hayek and Benicio del Toro).

While steeped in movie history, the areas also have plenty to offer any curious visitor. From the sweeping landscapes to extraordinarily kitsch installations, there is much to be enjoyed in the region…

LAURA

In Coachella Valley, an essential stop is Pappy + Harriet’s restaurant which originated in the 1950s as a cantina set built for the many westerns being filmed there (films like Jeopardy and The Cisco Kid). In more recent decades, while respected for its open-pit fire BBQ, the restaurant and venue has also become a celebrated live music hotspot where the likes of Sir Paul McCartney, Queens of the Stone Age and Arctic Monkeys have all played (often spontaneously choosing the venue to test out a new set). So do stop by: while you might be going for the ribs, you may just find U2 serenading you.

The restaurant sits next to the original Pioneertown film set, taking you right into an 1880-themed Main Street. Quietly sitting behind this is the 19-room Pioneertown Motel (built as a waypost for movie stars filming locally at the time). A unique boutique hotel, it’s rich in character and an ideal place to disconnect from the outside world and soak up the starriest of skies at night. The motel feels exactly as a motel should; warm and welcoming with friendly staff and better yet, no televisions!

During the day you can hike around Joshua Tree or pop into La Copine(do book) for a cool desert roadside spot (menu favourites include Beets & Burrata and Socarrat) or have a mooch around the Noah Purifoy Outdoor Desert Art Museum, an exhibit whose beauty lies in its decades of decay.

En route to Palm Springs, you pass acres upon acres of wind farms but through the colossal turbines it’s hard not to miss the two giant dinosaurs of Cabazon. Something between a fast food amusement garden (they were, indeed, originally built by local restaurateur to attract more diners) and Jurassic Park on steroids (‘Dinny’ and ‘Mr Rex’ most famously featured in Pee-wee’s Big Adventure), these two monuments are an essential stop (albeit, just a 10-min one) while driving through.

Pulling into Palm Springs, in soaring temperatures, feels somewhat like the designer town time has left standing: exquisite architecture nestled at the foot of the mountains with that unique desert modernist design. Better to visit in winter when the temperatures become more moderate but be sure to indulge in a dinner at Mister Parker’s (the gilded restaurant of the Parker Hotel) for exquisite cuisine and a flash of that personal service touch (your tabletop candle is made of beef butter which melts ready to be spread over your freshly made loaf).

Stay at Sparrows Lodge, a small and intimate spot where the accommodation’s surround a misted pool and loungers. The rooms are stylish and well-sized with vast metal dunk-tubs. It is also recognised for the menu in their Barn Kitchen, offering delights from home-baked banana bread for breakfast to 16oz Creekstone Ranch ribeye at diner. But do rise early and take yourself for a near-two-mile hike in Tahquitz Canyon. While the trail is steep and can be rocky, the waterfall that greets you at the pinnacle is entirely worth the effort. Before slipping out of town, make sure you stop at Mitchells vintage shop, which offers an expansive range of heritage pieces from Pucci to Ossie Clark. Mitchell services the shop himself so you are assured of the history and provenance (the store supplied rare fashion pieces to TV show Palm Royale most recently).

After a few days of desert sun, it’s likely time to head to the ocean spread of Laguna Beach. Pick your timing carefully: off-season the beaches are sweeping and empty, in high season you may have to search for your spot more carefully as tourists flock to the infamous OC coastline. In the early 1920s, it began to emerge as a noted artists’ colony and still boasts a bustling creative hub (including the Festival Of Arts and Pageant Of The Masters).

About a mile from the milling centre lies Casa Laguna Hotel & Spa; a compact and quaint design-led spot. The bungalow is the most sought-after accommodation but all rooms feature the same decorative Spanish-colonial interiors (think palettes of royal blue and vivid bougainvillea). It sits only a short walk from two essential beaches but if you want to ‘stay in’, the perched pool which overlooks the ocean and the bay-facing outdoor spa are particular highlights (although the daily freshly made cookies laid out late afternoon take a comfortable bronze position).

Words and photographs by LAURA SYMONS & DAMIAN HARRIS
All the unique accommodations featured here (and many more) can be found on the Mr & Mrs Smith website mrandmrssmith.com
American Gigolo | Less Than Zero | Behind the Candelabra | Chinatown

Screening Room

SUPER/MAN: THE CHRISTOPHER REEVE STORY

November 1, 2024

Words by JANE CROWTHER

Christopher Reeve’s children (from his relationships with Gae Exton and Dana Morosini) open the family scrapbook and video archives to search through their memories of their father that are so entwined with those of an international consciousness. The youngest, Will (now a US broadcaster) is bittersweetly cognizant to his own memory conformity as he was only two when his actor dad, the world’s Superman, fell from a horse in 1995 and was paralysed from the neck down. It was an event that became a cultural one as rolling news documented whether a seemingly invincible man would survive a fall that had he landed one inch differently might have been merely an embarrassing flub. Matthew and Alexandra, teens at the time, recall the trauma of that moment more acutely, but as Reeve’s initial crisis turned into a paraplegic way of life that lasted nine years after the accident, the blended family admit that a father who was loved but fiercely adventurous and often away for work, came more sharply into focus as he was tethered to his home.

Super/Man Ian Bonhôte Peter Ettedgui Christopher Reeve Johnny Carson Bill Clinton

In a time-hopping biopic loaded with home videos, photos and personal accounts (from Glenn Close and Whoopi Goldberg to Jeff Daniels and John Kerry), directors Ian Bonhôte and Peter Ettedgui unpick the facets of Reeve that made him the perfect Man Of Steel, but also gave him a steely determination when faced with unimaginable odds. It charts the boy who could never impress his father, the Juilliard student who formed a lifelong friendship with his college roommate, Robin Williams, the actor who aced his Superman audition despite a sweaty leotard, strove for artistic relevance outside of DC adaps and became a shining advocate for research and rights for spinal injury sufferers. Unlike Kal-El himself though, Reeve is also presented as entirely human – sometimes too competitive a Dad on the ski slopes, a goofball, a man who walked out on his partner, a self-confessed player for a time and capable of self pity.

Though Reeve was undoubtedly impressive in how he dealt with his difficulties, the heroics of this account are reserved for Reeve’s wife, Dana, whose insistence that he remained the man she loved despite his injury, and care in ensuring he continued to live as full a life as possible seemed to give him the power to outlive his prognosis, instigate change and even begin to regain tiny movement in his fingers. The secret poem found by her children is one of the most moving moments of the film as we realise the sorrow, rage and grief she carried underneath the indomitable spirit. And her story is one that seems particularly cruel in a telling that takes in other deaths, not just Reeve’s.
Interweaving homespun footage with a bombastic score and superhero imagery (Reeve as a titanic statue, cracked and suspended in space, kryptonite weeping from the fissures), directors Bonhôte and Ettedgui also make clever use of Reeve’s film appearances in Rear Window and archive footage to illustrate his voiceover taken from recordings he made in preparation for writing an autobiography. The result is a film about strength in adversity that provokes tears as well as a life-affirming sense of gratitude. Parents and children will be squeezed all the more tightly after watching.

Words by JANE CROWTHER
Super/Man: The Christopher Reeve Story is in cinemas now

Screening Room

ANORA

November 1, 2024

Words by MATT MAYTUM

You know the film in which the charming, rich man pays a sex worker to spend the week with him and they fall in love? Well, Anora isn’t Pretty Woman. If you’ve seen any of writer/director Sean Baker’s previous movies – the best known being Tangerine (2015), The Florida Project (2017) and Red Rocket (2021) – you’ll know not to expect anything quite so conventional. Like those earlier works, Anora is another rounded, grounded look at a marginalised community in the US, but its scale and sweep marks it out as Baker’s boldest gambit yet, and amplifies its crossover appeal. Buoyed by winning the Palme d’Or (the highest accolade at the Cannes Film Festival) this summer, it looks set to be Baker’s first film to garner mainstream awards appreciation.

anora, lindsey normington, mikey madison, paul weissman, sean baker

That’s not to say that Anora falls into the category of Oscar bait. It’s as provocative as any of Baker’s previous features, with its stall set out from a tone-setting opening shot that slowly pans across a line-up of performances at the Manhattan strip club where Anora – call her Ani – makes her living. In a 180-twist on the Cinderella story, we follow Ani (Mikey Madison) as she meets a young, ultra-wealthy Russian Ivan or ‘Vanya’ (Mark Eydelshteyn), at her club. Private dances lead to paid-for sex which leads to a week’s company for $15,000 fee.

It’s a film of two halves, though your pulse will pound in both. Upfront, it’s the high-energy sex scenes and euphoric abandon that provide the momentum. Baker’s always been a superb, detail-focused world-builder, and here he neatly contrasts the superficial chintzy surfaces of Ani’s club and her working-class homelife in Brighton Beach with the jaw-dropping extravagance of Vanya’s NY abode and his hedonistic profligacy: there’s no illicit thrill he won’t throw money at, for the amusement of himself, Ani and his entourage of hanger-on pals. Sex, drugs and trips to Vegas are all on the cards, and it’s in Sin City where a chapel for Ani and Vanya awaits… For him, it’s ostensibly an easy way to extend his stay in the US, while you get the sense she’s happy to keep the party going. Despite the inherent frivolity of the union, it’s impossible to disregard their genuine chemistry.

But, in the second half of the reverse fairytale, the glass slipper smashes and Ani must walk through the shards. When Vanya’s oligarch parents get wind of his nuptials, they send right-hand man Toros (Karren Karagulian) and a couple of heavies (Yura Borisov and Vache Tovmasyan) to enforce an annulment. When Vanya splits, Ani and her three captors have a long night ahead of them trying to find the runaway groom. For all the escalating tension – there’s a ticking-clock element sparked by the impending arrival of Vanya’s parents – it’s impressive how funny Baker keeps it throughout. Every character, no matter their circumstances, has curiously relatable problems or glimmers of unexpected humanity, to a Tolstoyesque degree.

It’s fitting that the two main characters go by dual names, as a literal representation of the contradictory facets that everyone embodies. Madison is very likely to find herself in the awards conversation after this breakout turn. Until now she’s been best known to film audiences for eye-catching supporting roles in Once Upon A Time In Hollywood (2019) and Scream (2022), but Anora is the definition of a star-making performance. Not only does she nail the physicality the character requires to be fully believable, and the specificity of her Brooklyn accent, but also gets Ani’s confidence and fluency in power dynamics, and fully embodies the joy, fear, despair and frustration that occur across the film’s roller-coaster trajectory, and she retains the capacity to knock the wind out of you when you least expect it.

Despite weighty themes of extreme socioeconomic disparity, transactional relationships, sex work and more, Baker’s film is never a slog, and remains propulsive and unexpectedly funny over it’s 139-min runtime. If Anora does end up being Baker’s ticket to awards glory, he’s won a seat at that table on his own terms.

Words by MATT MAYTUM
Anora is in cinemas now

Screening Room

SALEM’S LOT

October 10, 2024

Words by MATT MAYTUM

You’re never too far away from a Stephen King adaptation. The prolific horror maestro is the most-adapted living author, and even Salem’s Lot has been made for the screen twice before (as TV miniseries in 1979 and 2004). It’s a relief then, that writer-director Gary Dauberman makes slick work of King’s doorstopper tome in this latest take on the vampire story.

gary dauberman, jordan preston carter, lewis pullman, makenzie leigh, salem’s lot

For anyone unfamiliar with previous incarnations, Salem’s Lot concerns author Ben Mears (Lewis Pullman), who returns to his childhood hometown of Jerusalem’s Lot, Maine. Only, just before his return, an altogether more sinister resident has moved into the creepy house that overlooks this otherwise charming small town where magic hour seems to last all afternoon and the cops are rarely busy. But before Ben can rediscover his writing mojo and develop a romance with local realtor Susan Norton (Makenzie Leigh), kids start going missing, patients with punctures to the neck are being treated at the hospital, and no one is quite ready to say the v-word out loud. Soon, several unlikely heroes are going to have to sharpen wooden stakes and assemble makeshift crucifixes as the unforgiving body count stacks up.

Salem’s Lot is classic King in several key ways, from the Maine setting to the writer protagonist and the snowballing sense of dread. The ’70s era is nicely realised via the production design, which has enough restraint to avoid parody. More than anything, the period setting spares the film from smartphones and the internet, creating an insular claustrophobia in the outwardly picturesque town of the title. While there’s the occasional sense of a bigger story being abridged for a cinema-friendly running time, credit goes to the cast for building a believable sense of community, and efficiently fleshing out past histories. Pullman (Top Gun: Maverick) is a likeable everyman with a troubled past, and there’s some genuine chemistry and sweet-natured banter between Ben and Leigh’s yearning-to-escape Susan. Plus, character actors like Alfre Woodard (as a no-nonsense doctor) and Bill Camp (as the teacher slotting the puzzle pieces together) add heft to archetypal roles. The child performances were always going to be key here, too, and Dauberman elicits good work from the younger cast members, putting an updated spin on the tap-at-the-window scene that was so chillingly memorable in the 1979 version.

Given that its influences stretch as far back as Dracula and Nosferatu – a mysteriously sheltered bloodsucker relocates to spread his malign influence, with the help of a converted servant – Salem’s Lot doesn’t have anything particularly new to add to the vampire canon. But Dauberman, who has previous King form as the writer of It (2017) and It: Chapter Two, brings a surprising sense of humour to proceedings. Not only is there plenty of knowingly witty dialogue, but the slick camerawork amplifies the fun of the set pieces. Whether it’s clever pans to induce jolts (or hide the goriest moments from view), inventive use of shadow as marauding vamps attempt to stay out of the sunlight, or just wickedly choreographed kills, it all adds to the sense that Dauberman knows what his audience wants, and is having a blast delivering it. By not taking itself too seriously, Salem’s Lot gives viewers permission to lean back and indulge in a bit of old-fashioned Halloween fun best enjoyed with a crowd.

Words by MATT MAYTUM
Salem’s Lot is in UK cinemas now and on Max in the US

Screening Room

THE OUTRUN

September 27, 2024

Words by JANE CROWTHER

‘Britain is an island off Europe, Orkney is an island off Britain, Westray is an island off Orkney, Papay is an island off Westray…’ says Rona of the remote place she returns to in pursuit of rehabilitation in Nora Fingscheidt’s gorgeous, wild and meditative adaptation of Amy Liptrot’s 2016 addiction memoir. The Orkney-bred daughter of English parents (Stephen Dillane and Saskia Reeves), Rona has escaped the far-flung rock of her birth to Hackney for a biology degree and bacchanalian partying – which has tipped from hedonism to fiending. Booze has loosened her and allowed for city adventures and a romance with a doe-eyed boyfriend Paapa Essiedu, but it has also tightened its grip around her, making her a mean drunk as well as the victim of blackouts and violence at the hands of strangers. In Fingscheidt’s time-hopping poem to the forces of nature, the determination of survivors and the beauty of myth, Saoirse Ronan delivers a career-best performance that is unvarnished, brutal and, ultimately, beautiful and life-affirming.

nora fingscheidt, saoirse ronan, saskia reeves, paapa essiedu, stephen dillane, the outrun

nora fingscheidt, nora fingscheidt, saoirse ronan, saskia reeves, stephen dillane, the outrunsaoirse ronan, saskia reeves, stephen dillane, the outrun

Orkney and tiny island, Papay, are showcased to their full craggy, unforgiving majesty as Rona returns home from London, hoping that escape from the trigger will help her recovery. In flashbacks we unpick the moments that have led to this reckoning on the windswept ‘outrun’ of her father’s sheep farm. The slurred self-harm, the endangerment, the abuse of friends’ goodwill, the shame of nipping at hidden bottles of vodka in the bathroom with the tap on. Rona also narrates key memories and Orkney myths of monsters that have formed her. As she helps birth lambs, struggles to befriend other young people and spits vitriol at her religious mum, she also recalls the mental health episodes of her father and the estrangement from the boy she loved. Like the endangered Corncrake birds she attempts to track for the RSPB, her sobriety is an elusive, fragile thing and her path to the discovery of both turns out to be surprising.

nora fingscheidt, saoirse ronan, saskia reeves, stephen dillane, the outrun

Adapted by Fingscheidt and Liptrot, The Outrun is a bewitching celebration of healing with different timelines deftly denoted by Ronan’s dyed hair and bolstered by moments of stop-motion, still photography and nature footage (curious seals, boiling seas, raging storms). When lensing Rona’s drunken walks home, Fingscheidt employs woozy, disorientating focus to put us right inside the bottle with her, while at other times the camera is a serene watcher as Rona takes a wild swim in a briny bay. Equally multi-discipline is Ronan, toggling from utterly convincing messy drunk to shattered alcoholic, lost recoverer to flame-haired ‘selkie’ at one with the landscape. Her interior life is so easily read, whether it’s the way she lies to her professor, the apology she weepingly offers her mum or the way a tear of wonder slides from her eye as she watches the twinkle of the international space station pass across the Scottish heavens. The experience of watching her within this maelstrom of a movie is a visceral one, and should power her into the awards ring. A kind and essential movie for anyone trying to find the contours of their true self in a time of difficulty.

Words by JANE CROWTHER
The Outrun is in cinemas now

Screening Room

SPEAK NO EVIL

September 13, 2024

Words by JANE CROWTHER

Those who experienced 2022’s Danish horror of the same name may not wish to revisit the particular trauma of that movie, taking in mutilation, social discomfort and a bleakness that snatched breath. A disquieting hit at Sundance, Speak No Evil pitched a Danish couple against a Dutch couple – leveraging middle-class politeness to devastating effect. Now writer/director James Watkins recasts and re-sets the tale in Britain under the Blumhouse shingle, with a reserved American couple, Louise and Ben (Mackenzie Davis and Scoot McNairy), meeting a brash Brit duo, Paddy and Ciara (James McAvoy and Aisling Franciosi), on holiday in Tuscany. Both pairs have kids of a similar age and though they probably wouldn’t usually gel as friends, an alliance is formed and invites to weekends in the country are extended post-vacation. Despite Louise’s misgivings, the American family travels to a rustic farmhouse where Paddy flips from gregarious host to seething bully and back, and the kids discover something terrible in the basement…

james mcavoy, james watkins, mackenzie davis, scoot mcnairy, speak no evil

To discuss specifics of the horror is to spoil the experience of an incremental discomfort for audiences as social niceties are tested to the limit. At what point, Watkins asks throughout, would YOU say something? What inappropriate action, unpleasant comment, disregard of personal values would be the tipping point to cast judgement? As Paddy and Ciara display boorish, cruel and ultimately sinister behaviour, Louise and Ben are forced to confront the unspoken trauma hidden in their own marriage, as well as question their liberal credentials.

That tonal tightrope rests on the performance of Paddy, here essayed by McAvoy, bringing all his charming and venal charisma to the role – delightfully chummy one minute, a savage the next. It’s a monstrously entertaining turn in his hands and one that makes a revised ending work despite softening the nihilism and inhumanity of the original. It also allows more agency for Davies, playing a spikier version of the first film’s fussy wife, a woman who can, and will, bring her own barbarity to the fore when required. As a brisk, assured social horror (with plenty of vengeful tool use) Speak No Evil is a satisfying scare. But those that can bear the terrible sadness and appalling use of secateurs, should also seek out Christian Tafdrup’s urtext version. And hug your children twice as hard after watching either…

Words by JANE CROWTHER
Speak No Evil is in cinemas now

Screening Room

BEETLEJUICE BEETLEJUICE

September 13, 2024

Words by JANE CROWTHER

The juice is, once again, loose. Tim Burton returns to his 1988 horror-comedy for the opening of this year’s Venice Film Festival for unapologetic fan service and warm-fuzzies. Having admitted to becoming disillusioned with the film industry before deciding to revisit the ‘ghost with the most’, Burton throws all of his trademark quirks into a movie that features cameos, wacky needledrops, stop-motion and tactile practical effects to nostalgic effect.

bettlejuice bettlejuice, catherine o’hara, jenna ortega, michael keaton, tim burton, winona ryder

Catching up with Lydia Deetz (Winona Ryder, complete with goth chopped fringe) decades after she first met so-called bio-exorcist, Beetlejuice, as a teen, this legacy sequel from the producer behind Top Gun Maverick, mines audience affection for the weird and wonderful original by lovingly repeating the journey. So TV psycho Lydia is called back to the New England haven of Winter River when her father dies (in an animated, comedic fashion) along with her step-mom (Catherine O’Hara), cynical teen daughter Astrid (Jenna Ortega) and odious boyfriend/manager, Rory (Justin Theroux). Lydia and Astrid have a strained relationship, not least because Mom’s slimy romantic interest is always trying to be a ‘dope dad’ figure, but their familial bonds are put to the test when Astrid meets a local boy and when Beetlejuice’s past comes back to haunt him – forcing him to plague the Deetz family again. Along for the helter-skelter ride are Willem Dafoe’s Neitherworld detective, Monica Bellucci’s corpse bride and an army of shrunken headed minions led by tremulous ‘Bob’…

Keaton and Ryder seem to have hardly aged since the original and fall back easily into step with him growling fourth-wall-breaking Beetlejuice one-liners and her looking delightfully bewildered. While the script may not seem quite as subversive as its predecessor, the film really takes flight when logic is abandoned and frivolity is honoured. Keaton literally spilling his sloppy guts, sucking influencers into their phones and making the entire cast sing and dance to Richard Harris’ bonkers 1968 single Macarthur Park (and yes, an oozing, green-iced cake is present) is a hoot, a couple of segments featuring stop-motion Saturn sand worms tickle and a daft character death genuinely upsets (the film is dedicated to their demise). Fans wanting more of the waiting room get it – plus a built-out ever-after universe featuring dry cleaners, immigration halls, subway stations and call centres inhabited by people who have died ridiculously. There’s disco dancing, a Richard Marx nod, a disquieting offspring and a goofy ending that leaves room for more. Might we want another visitation? If it’s brisk, disposable, self-aware silliness like this, then we’ll likely take a ticket and get in line.

Words by JANE CROWTHER
Beetlejuice Beetlejuice is in cinemas now

Screening Room

HORIZON: AN AMERICAN SAGA – CHAPTER 2

September 7, 2024

Words by JANE CROWTHER

Kevin Costner’s sweeping saga charting the disparate lives intertwined through the often brutal expansion of the 19th century American west continues to focus on the experience of women on the frontier. Picking up events and storylines immediately after the first film (viewing that is required to understand the interwoven narrative threads), the tale of desert town Horizon is told via the wagon trains, cowboys, first nation tribes, pioneers, chinese tradespeople, sex workers and the moneymen in Chicago selling plots of land – and dreams – in an unknown region. Graves are prominent in every story…

ella hunt, horizon: an american saga – chapter 2, kevin costner, sam worthington, sienna miller

Having been widowed in the first chapter, Frances (Sienna Miller) navigates a new life for her and her daughter, understanding that though she is resilient and resourceful, it is the protection of men that will inform their future. Meanwhile, on the dusty wagon train plodding across dangerous territory, snobby Brit Mrs Proctor (Ella Hunt) discovers both the venality and usefulness of male companions as she makes her way solo, her priggish ways broken into a new kind of defiance. Three put-upon sisters working for their Pa test the limits of their independence, while the on-the-run sex worker (Abbey Lee) helped by Costner’s stoic Hayes Ellison continues to evade the Sykes brothers. And the matriarch and granddaughter of a Chinese lumber company and teahouse are instrumental in building a settlement from canvas dwellings to a homestead community.

horizon: an american saga – chapter 2, sienna miller

horizon: an american saga – chapter 2, sam worthington

Costner and other male stars are integral to events but designed as it is (a planned four-part saga), their stories will have room to develop in later instalments. While Hayes Ellison was key in part one, he takes a back seat here, keeping his counsel at a horse breaking camp until his temper frays to thrilling effect with a bar room shootout. As a rich tapestry of tales destined for the long haul, Chapter Two could feel unresolved to some, but if viewed as a halfway point in a robust series, it hits emotional highs. The story of Mrs Proctor is particularly affecting as she is terrorised by Douglas Smith’s Sig, her despair galvanising in the cool waters of a river – a baptism for a new life and attitude. Miller also makes an impression with two key speeches; one explaining the options open to her to Sam Worthington’s cavalryman, another parsing the need for sisterhood in a cruel climate.

Costner’s shootout aside, it’s a quieter, more contemplative instalment, setting up high plains wagon chases, skirmishes with first nations and dead shots from the backs of horses (seen in the end reel preview of Chapter Three). And the scenery… lensed with a sweeping score, Costner understands the lexicon of Westerns and provides numerous moments that will make aficionados’ hearts soar.

Words by JANE CROWTHER
Horizon: An American Saga – Chapter 2 will be released later this year

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