Directed and written by newcomer Morgan Knibbe, Those Who Feel the Fire Burning is an unusual and powerful documentary about the lives of immigrants stuck in Europe.

Those Who Feel the Fire Burning opens strongly with a man drowning at sea, having fallen from a boat taking him into a port. This drowning is shown from his perspective, with the darkness slowly filling the screen as he sinks down into the ocean. The ghost of this man then serves as our narrator and guide through the streets of Europe’s coastal towns and ports.

Whilst the narrator wonders philosophically about paradise and the failed hopes and dreams of himself and the others who managed to make it to Europe, the camera glides over and through towns and cities on Europe’s coast, focusing on several immigrants struggling to stay alive. We follow one man filling a pram with iron desperate for money. We also follow a Senegalese man living in an old disused house in dreadful condition, telling his wife on the phone about all the shoes and lipstick he can afford to buy and bring home to her. In particularly distressing scenes we also encounter a woman using an old phone charger tied around her arm to help her inject heroin, along with several immigrants mourning the loss of family members and friends who died at sea trying to get into the port.

Knibbe’s voyeuristic approach compounds the sense of unease, grief and isolation of the immigrants. The camera can get uncomfortably close to its subjects, so we can see the pain in their eyes whilst a relentless haunting soundtrack plays in the background. Knibbe conveys Europe as an unwelcoming world for immigrants as the camera lingers over dark streets filled with tension and police. The world these immigrants have entered is alien, isolating and disorienting. Those Who Feel the Fire Burning is not an easy watch. There is no sense of detachment and distance that would have come from a film with facts and statistics. Knibbe does not give the film any political context. This is not a film inclined to provoke a detailed discussion of the complex geo-political circumstances behind immigration. Instead, Knibbe gives a visceral and emotional portrayal of life as an immigrant. He conveys immigrants as trapped in a nightmarish purgatory, unable to move further on through Europe for a more prosperous life, yet also unable to return home to their families. When the narrator ponders his life as a ghost, of “existing and not existing,” the comparison with immigrants feeling a lack of identity is obvious, and serves to emphasize this point further.

Yet Knibbe is not always subtle, and Those Who Feel the Fire Burning does possess a fault—the film’s narration, which can occasionally be a little simplistic. In one scene the narrator asks “Are you an angel?” as the camera looks upon a little girl, obviously hammering home the heaven and purgatory theme. Knibbe has created such a powerful atmosphere with the cinematography and score alone that Those Who Feel the Fire Burning arguably does not need the voice-over and ghost character in order to elicit an emotional response. This scene feels manufactured, and is clumsy given the rest of the film’s subtlety. Thankfully, these missteps from Knibbe are infrequent. Those Who Feel the Fire Burning is a provocative, hypnotic film that draws you into a frightening world of uncertainty and hopelessness. It is a unique, intelligent film from Knibbe that deserves all the praise it can get.

Originally published on April 24, 2015, as part of our Hot Docs 2015 coverage.

Directed by the father-and-son team of Daniel and Emmanuel Leconte, Je Suis Charlie chronicles the horrific events of the attacks on the offices of the French satirical magazine Charlie Hebdo, which resulted in the deaths of eleven people. The attacks, carried out by terrorists claiming to be part of Al Qaeda, were in retaliation to a series of drawings of the prophet Muhammad made by the magazine. The act of depicting the prophet, controversial because it is sacrosanct within the Islamic religion, led to condemnation of the magazine by some of those within the Muslim community. In the following two days, eight more were killed in four separate attacks, one of which involved an attack on a Jewish supermarket. These attacks were the deadliest in France since 1961, and the deadliest in Europe since the 2011 Norway attacks. It led to an outraged reaction throughout Europe, triggering debates around the nature of freedom of speech and, in particular, the freedom to criticise religions such as Islam.

The Lecontes take a personal, intimate approach to their film, using interviews with the Charlie Hebdo staff to document the attacks. One of the most moving accounts comes from cartoonist Corinne Rey, who describes finding the gunmen outside the Charlie Hebdo offices. She was forced to direct them to the staff room after they mistakenly went to the wrong office, conveying the surrealist nature of the attacks.

The Lecontes, however, are not merely content with providing a basic account of the incident. They are also intent on exploring why this attack was carried out. They do not shy away from exploring any of the elephants in the room during the interviews regarding Charlie Hebdo’s content. The Lecontes encourage the surviving cartoonists to describe their frustration over why the French media, who proudly announced “Je Suis Charlie” after the attacks, were quick to criticise the magazine like they have in the past once the wave of public support died down. What also gives this documentary an added political fervour is the inclusion of interviews with people who died in the attacks, including interviews with the magazine’s editor Charb. Charb’s passion, conviction and intelligence is quickly apparent, injecting the film with an energy that helps justify the documentary’s sympathetic attitude towards the magazine. Charb reveals the need to question and provoke, but also the care and thought that went behind many of the magazine’s controversial cartoons.

The film’s intellectualism can occasionally veer on the side of the inaccessible, with some of the arguments raised by interviewees feeling very academic at times, but the Lecontes always bring the documentary back to the personal, intimate and relatable. The Lecontes’ use of archival footage of the artists and writers enjoying themselves with friends and work parties conveys the ordinary nature of their lives, despite their extraordinary bravery in continuing to produce cartoons that led to numerous death threats before the events of January 15th. Their focus on funny anecdotes and fond memories amongst the horror and violence also highlights the absurdity of these often reserved, humorous, self-deprecating intellectuals.

Given the immediacy with which this documentary has been produced, Je Suis Charlie was always going to struggle to provide something meaningful with such a quick turnaround. However, the documentary nevertheless offers an enlightening account of the social politics in France and around Europe. Je Suis Charlie also asks the important question of whether or not the attacks have resulted in a desire to further protect freedom of speech, since people have become afraid to criticise religion. But Je Suis Charlie poignantly illustrates the lives of those who worked for Charlie Hebdo, conveying the humanity of the victims and subsequently the tragedy of their deaths, for not only those wanting to protect freedom of speech, but also for those who loved them as great friends and colleagues. Je Suis Charlie takes a difficult subject and handles it with subtlety and sensitivity, whilst also making an engaging and interesting documentary.

Directed and written by Garret Bradley Below Dreams follows three characters struggling with life in a post-recession America. In New Orleans, Jamaine is struggling to find employment with a criminal record and Leanne, a mother of four, is trying to revive her dreams of becoming a model. Meanwhile, Elliot, lost and frustrated with his life in New York, has travelled to New Orleans to meet up with a girl, yet really he is looking for some sort of inspiration to fix the mundanity of his life.

Below Dreams is a stripped back, bare-bones drama, with the aesthetic of a documentary and has the same detached view to its subjects. Rather than a dramatic narrative, Below Dreams is a series of observed conversations with Leanne, Elliot, and Jamaine chatting to friends and relatives. The camera quietly observes them, occasionally from a distance. We follow Jamaine talking to his friend on the porch, Leanne talking to her mother in car, and Elliot chatting in a taxi about the state of their lives. They all come from different walks of life yet they all have something in common; they are all searching for something greater than the cold hard reality of life. Jamaine is a former convict who expresses an ambition to attend acting classes, though his girlfriend just wants him to get a paycheck at the end of the month. Leanne wants to build a career she loves but is held back by the responsibility of caring for children. And Elliot is really just searching for anything to give any meaning to his life.

With Below Dreams, Bradley has gone out of his way to convey a sense of realism and a sense of authenticity when observing the lives of his three characters struggling with life in America. The cinematography is unobtrusive and utilitarian, and conversations between characters are loose and appear unscripted. Yet, he also occasionally tries to inject the film with a “poetic realism” and the two different approaches appear to conflict rather than complement each other. Moody shots of Elliot looking out of a car window or “tripping out” in a bar are jarring when put alongside the integrity of the simply shot scenes of Jamaine and Leanne’s brutally honest conversations with friends and relatives.

The other issue is that Bradley is so terrified of appearing to be writing any sort of narrative driven story that the film’s lead characters are left woefully undeveloped. Of all the three characters Jamaine is the easiest to empathize with, he has made mistakes in his life but is getting on with trying to fix them. Scenes where he walks the streets looking for any job he can lay his hands on are easily the most poignant. It’s also somewhat refreshing to see a character with gold teeth and tattoos conveyed in such a sympathetic light and genuinely, and by the end of the film you want him to succeed. Yet we gain very little insight into the character really beyond the fact that he used to be a gangster with gold-teeth. This ambiguity may be intriguing but it’s also irritating and leaves the audience rather shut out of making an emotional attachment to the film. Meanwhile, Elliot is hard to identify with and Bradley gives us little reason to care about his search for meaning. Leanne is more empathetic and Bradley acutely conveys the challenge of being a single mother, but just like Jamaine, her story only really appears to be moving forward when the film abruptly ends.

In the end Below Dreams fails to say anything of significance about New Orleans or invoke any strong emotional response. Below Dreams would have benefitted from a narrower focus from Bradley on what story he wanted to tell and how he wanted to tell it. A full-fledged documentary would have given more insight on the poverty of those living in New Orleans than a series of observed conversations restricted to talking about jobs and the economy, despite their loose naturalistic appearance. Whilst Bradley could have created a more emotionally poignant drama had he stayed with one character and let the audience become fully involved in their hopes and dreams, as the superior Beasts of the Southern Wild (another film dealing with poverty in New Orleans) did so effectively. Below Dreams is a film that shows promise and the potential talent of its director, yet in the end is a mismatch of interesting ideas that fails to come together into a satisfying whole.

Directed by Eric Hueber, Flutter follows JoLynn (Lindsay Pulsipher), a single mother left to care for her son Johnathan, who is suffering from a severe case of glaucoma. Life isn’t made any easier for JoLynn when she realizes she is running out of money, with her only source of aid coming from absent husband’s parents.

Flutter initially appears to be an examination of a struggling parent. JoLynn gives her son cannabis rather than his prescribed medicine, lives in appalling conditions, has no electricity, and occasionally allows her son to share his bedroom with a fully sized pig named Wee Wee, who also happens to be his best and only friend. Meanwhile, her husband David, a musician, has decided to tour the country, leaving his family to fend for themselves. It’s not surprising that Johnathan’s grandparents desperately want Johnathan to come and live with them, and Glen Morshower is on top form as the pained grandfather Mark, who’s clearly conflicted over his affection for JoLynn and concern for his grandson. On the other hand, Johnathan’s grandmother Linda is less concerned with revealing her true feelings about JoLynn, but Mark holds her back from doing so.

Despite the serious plot, Flutter is not a sobering portrayal of parental abuse, but rather a determinedly optimistic film striving to convey the strength of the relationship between a mother and son. JoLynn’s apparent lack of hope without a man in her life may feel like a plot point designed to aggravate feminists, yet JoLynn is one of the strongest characters in the film. And while Mark may be more rational than JoLynn, he has also trapped himself in an unhappy marriage. JoLynn’s world may be collapsing around her, but she never gives in to depression. She is determined to make her son happy, and give him the best life she can. This central message of the film is bolstered by a captivating performance from Lindsay Pulsipher, who conveys a great deal of love and pain with very little dialogue. Pulsipher steals every scene she is in despite being surrounded by a talented cast including Morshower and Charles Halford, who puts in a stirring performance as JoLynn’s pot smoking friend and confidant.

However, Flutter’s inherent sense of optimism does occasionally verge on twee, and this is where the film suffers. Hueber, for example, treats us to a number of animated sequences involving Johnathan fighting sea monsters. These scenes feel underdeveloped, never really giving much insight into Johnathan’s character until they’re lumped into a rather laboured metaphor at the end. This clashes with the powerful realism of the film, and it feels like Hueber is trying too hard to be cutesy when he is more at home with gritty material. And scenes involving JoLynn’s husband David singing whispery blues over a whimsical montage lack the same subtlety as the rest of the film. This is especially frustrating, since Pulsipher’s performance elicits all the emotion it needs without Hueber having to rely on manufactured emotional poignancy to get his message across.

Flutter may have its shortcomings, but its strengths outweigh its flaws. It’s a confident film from Hueber, and in Pulsipher he has truly found a fantastic actress, whose performance here ought to see her receive more leading roles in the future.

Flutter is available now on VOD.

Directed by Oscar Ruiz Navia, Los Hongos follows teenage friends Calvin (Calvin Buenaventura Tascon) and Ras (Jovan Alexis Maquinez Angulo) who, inspired by the resistance shown within the Arab Spring, immerse themselves in the street art scene of the Colombian city of Cali. Ras has to steal paint from his job in order to create street art, whilst Calvin is bank-rolled by his father (Gustovo Ruiz Montoya), attending art classes to improve his technique.

There is not a great deal of plot in Los Hongos. The film meanders along at a snails pace, with Navia not keen to lead the audience by the hand, or even give the plot any real direction. The main arc initially appears to be about street art, and Calvin and Ras’ emergence within a counter cultural group expressing their disillusionment with the current political class. However, beyond the initial Arab Spring comparisons, we gain little insight into the reasons why Calvin and Ras feel oppressed by their government. Only two scenes hint at Colombia’s systemic problems: one involving Calvin’s father describing issues with the country’s drug gangs, and another alluding to the potentially problematic ties between church and state. Navia’s commentary is brief and lacks any real impact, taking the life out of a film that’s clearly frustrated with its own country’s political situation.

The film’s political commentary might fail to land any heavy blows, but Navia’s emphasis on the two characters’ struggle with growing up strikes a chord. Ras struggles to break away from the expectations of his family to find work and settle down, whilst Calvin is given carte blanche by his father who, despite his financial support, appears more interested in himself than his own son. Yet, despite their different backgrounds, Calvin and Ras are drawn together in their search to establish a sense of identity, as symbolized pertinently by their desire to create distinctive art. Their shared struggle is easily the most powerful message of the film. The slow pace of Los Hongos‘ makes it a difficult film to enjoy at times. However it does give both actors ample room to explore their characters, providing brilliant performances that give off a sense of authenticity in its portrayal of life in Cali.

Navia also surrounds Los Hongos with distinctive characters, giving his film a much-needed boost of energy. Calvin’s father is uniquely quirky, a charismatic opera singer who practices in his bathroom mirror to his neighbours’ morning alarm, while Calvin and Ras’ graffiti artist friends—including one who only talks through a gas mask—are also colourful characters. The best supporting character is Calvin’s grandmother Norma, (Atala Estrada) whose frank honesty with Calvin on the pitfalls of alcohol and girls provides some of the film’s funniest moments.

Los Hongos is not without flaws. Its political commentary is underdeveloped, and a lack of narrative structure gives off a frustrating level of ambiguity and aimlessness at times. Yet Navia’s observations on life are poignant, and Los Hongos shows promise from a talented director.

Directed by Van Neistat A Space Program is a documentary recording Tom Sachs’ live show, “Space Program 2.0”, which premiered in New York’s Park Avenue Armory in 2012. In the film, Sachs, an artist renowned for his ability to recreate “engineering masterpieces” with everyday items, produces an ambitious show in which he creates a “mission to Mars” in search of life, complete with spacesuits and spaceships made out of a mix of materials including plywood and cardboard.

Van Neistat has a reputation for making subversive short films such as the now notorious iPod’s Dirty Secret, in which he and his brother stencil over Apple adverts in protest of their lack of a policy for replacing faulty batteries. Their rebellious, counter-cultural nature fits in well with Sachs’ work, which plays the joke of the absurdity of the fake Mars mission straight-faced. The show features such wonders as a landing of the spacecraft on an old Atari console, the use of an old boom box to introduce Mars’ possible life to Earth culture, and the dispersal of opium poppy seeds on the new planet (because narcotics can help with future funding of space programs) via poppy-seed bagels. The sheer level of imagination and inventiveness is impressive, especially when combined with Sachs’ dark sense of humour. For those who missed out on the live show, it’s worth a watch.

‘71, named after the year in which it is based, is director Yann Demange’s striking début feature, which follows a British soldier left abandoned in the middle of Belfast at the height of the conflict in Northern Ireland.

The film is told from the perspective of Gary Hook (Jack O’Connell), a brand new recruit in the British Army, who is sent to Northern Ireland after barely having time to finish his basic training. Cook is clearly not the only soldier out of his depth, as his commander makes the perilous mistake of sending his troops into the middle of a riotous Belfast, without protective gear. When the British Army arrive in the heart of the Republican part of Belfast there is an immediate hostility towards them. An encounter between the British troops and a mob of protesters quickly becomes violent and the resulting skirmish leads to Hook being separated from the rest of the British Army and subsequently trapped behind enemy lines.

Quickly becoming apparent in the opening scenes of the film, Demange is reluctant to let ‘71 become bogged down in the complexity of political context to the conflict. Rather than explore the Republican’s motivations for seeking independence for Northern Ireland, or the Protestants opposing arguments, we are instead thrust straight into the heart of the conflict. This may frustrate political ‘anoraks’, but it gives the film a sense of urgency that propels it forward with a compelling frenetic energy.

After being dropped behind enemy lines, Cook is trapped like a rat in a maze as a group of menacing young IRA soldiers drive around searching for him, as well as a group of British undercover officers, whose true loyalties are ambiguous. As with all great thrillers ‘71 is at times unbearably, painfully tense. This is due to fantastic performances throughout the cast, but especially from Jack’ O’Connell, who is in a terrific run of form at the moment after his mesmerizing performance in Starred Up. The cinematography is also excellent as Tat Radcliffe (who unsurprisingly worked on BBC’s dark and stylish The Shadow Line) gets the maximum amount of drama and suspense out of Belfast’s narrow, dark, cobbled streets; dusty, smoked filled pubs; and imposing apartment blocks. Added to ‘71’s dramatic cinematography is a pulse-pounding soundtrack to ratchet up the tension.

Demange strives to convey those caught within the conflict as ordinary people simply trying to survive. One of the effects of the film in following a single soldier and one who appears seemingly apolitical, is to convey the chaos and the senselessness of the violence on both sides of the conflict. There are some particularly provocative scenes in the film, juxtaposing the speed with which shocking violence can occur, arising out of seemingly ordinary and familiar situations which will undoubtedly stay with the audience. Occasionally, Demanges’ naturalism can come across as a little contrived but this is rare with the director more often than not delicately balancing nuanced performances from his actors with all the thrills that you would expect from a genre film.

With ‘71 Demange has created a distinctive film which is undoubtedly one of the best British thrillers of the year. Whilst the film does have political messages, most notably conveying the chaos of war, as a political film its arguments, whilst truthful, are simplistic. As such, whether or not ‘71 possesses the political weight to be counted among British classics dealing with the Northern Ireland conflict, such as Paul Greengrass’s Bloody Sunday, is debatable, but as a piece of genre fiction it is first class.

Originally published on Oct 21, 2014

Celebrating its 5th Anniversary (just like us!), The Toronto Irish Film Festival, established to help promote Irish film within Canada, is exhibiting a unique collection of Independent Irish films over the course of three days.

The Toronto Irish Film Festival runs from Friday March 6-Sunday March 8th for more info visit: http://torontoirishfilmfestival.com/

The Festival opens with Standby, a gentle romantic comedy based in Dublin. It stars Brian Gleeson as Alan, a musician with a passion for skiffle music. Alan is fed up, stuck with a boring job in a tourist office in an airport, being perpetually single and living alone with his father. His life appears to take a turn for the better when he runs into his former fling Alice (Jessica Pare, Mad Men), who is grounded in the city after a delayed flight and needs somewhere to stay. Standby is a charming, naturalistic comedy, and the perfect opening to the festival. (The screening also features a Q&A session with Brian Gleeson) (Screening: Friday, March 6, 2015 at 7pm)

Also showing at TIRFF is the uplifting Good Vibrations, which tells the story of Terri Hooley, a man who, in the midst of the ‘troubles’ in 1970s Northern Ireland, opened the record store ‘Good Vibrations’. Hooley and ‘Good Vibrations’ was hugely influential in establishing the Belfast Punk scene, and the film features great music from punk bands of the era including The Undertones and lesser known bands such as the The Outcasts. It also offers an honest account of life in Belfast during one the most difficult moments in its history. (Screening: Saturday March 7, 2015 at 3pm)

Also based in Belfast in the heart of the conflict in the 1970s is the outstanding ’71 which I raved about back when it was released in the UK. Starring Jack O’Connell, it follows a British solider separated from his unit and left to survive the night in a hostile West Belfast. It’s a fantastic debut from director Yann Demange, one that shouldn’t be missed. Consider this a sneak preview screening too, since it’s showing a week before its theatrical release in Toronto. (Screening: Saturday, March 7, 2015 at 5:30pm)

Finishing off the Saturday evening is Irish Film and Television Award winning comedy Gold, a film which sees Ray (David Wilmot) trying to reconnect with his ex-girlfriend and her daughter (Maisie Williams), now a potential track and field star, who is under the thumb of her controlling PE coach stepfather (James Nesbitt). (Screening: Saturday, March 7, 2015 at 8pm).

The festival finishes on the Sunday with Rebuilding the World Trade Centre, an observational documentary by Belfast artist and filmmaker Marcus Robinson, which chronicles construction on the new World Trade Centre. The film uses a mixture of time lapse photography and interviews with those working on the build, offering insights into this important attempt to rebuild one of New York’s most iconic buildings. (Screening: Sunday, March 8, 2015 at 7pm)

The festival also includes a series of 6 short films highlighting the work of new and upcoming Irish film directors as part of TIRFF 2015 IRISH Shorts Programme. (Screening: Sunday, March 8, 2015 at 4pm)

If the BAFTA’s are a sign of what’s going to happen at the Oscars then fans of Boyhood have a lot to look forward to. It may of not of swept the board but it took home the two biggest awards of the night winning best film with best director also going to Richard Linklater. Patricia Arquette also throughly deserves the BAFTA for Best Supporting Actress. Her performance grounded Boyhood giving it the emotional backbone that held the multiple strands of its story together.

Read: Full List of 2015 BAFTA Winners

I predicted that The Theory of Everything would win best film but whilst it may have missed out on that award it went on to take Outstanding British Film, Best Adapted Screenplay and Eddie Redmayne (who else was going to win it) picked up the BAFTA for Best Actor. With Steven Hawking in the audience the awards for The Theory of Everything also gave the academy to excuse to celebrate a British Icon. It was also stronger film than The Imitation Game and deserved to win the battle of the biopics.

It would have been a travesty had J.K. Simmons not one Best Supporting Actor for his performance and thankfully there was no disappointments on that front. Whiplash also went on to win Best Editing which was well deserved, if surprising to me, along with the more predictable Best Sound award.

There clearly is a lot of love in the UK for The Grand Budapest Hotel and it was one of the most successful films of the night. Wes Anderson’s film won a whole host of awards including Production Design, Costume Design, Best Original Music and Screenplay. Those of you who read Way Too Indie’s 2014 Best of the Year feature will know I am a big fan of the film and it was pleasant surprise to see the film walk away with so many awards. Losing out to The Grand Budapest Hotel marked a disappointing night for Birdman. The fact that it only picked up best Cinematography and may lead to some to predict that it will lose out to Boyhood at the Oscars.

Read: Our 2015 BAFTA Predictions

Elsewhere Ida was a predictable winner for best Foreign Language film, even if I felt that the academy might go for Leviathan. Coming from Nottingham myself I was proud to see Jack O’Connell win the Rising Star Ward and referencing the Television Workshop in the city as a key to his success. Although I was disappointed however to see 71’, starring O’Connell miss out on best debut film. However, given the success of the film director Yann Demange will hopefully have more opportunities to win awards in the future.

The BAFTA’s as it always has been was a rather tame awards ceremony. Stephen Fry was on auto-pilot and his jokes were painfully bad. It left you wondering whether the awards could do with a new presenter to liven the show, especially considering Tina Fey and Amy Poehler’s performance at the Golden Globes. The highlight of the night came from Mike Leigh who came to collect BAFTA Fellowship award and gave a brilliant speech on the importance of independent film. Leigh thanked those who had financed his films throughout his career. Yet, with his typical dry sense of humour, he also thanked those who had not describing them as ‘boneheads, Philistines and skinflints’, who could all ‘rot in hell’. Celebrating such an influential British director is what the BAFTA’s is all about and it almost made up for Mr. Turner picking up no awards at the ceremony.

Directed and written by Sean Mullin, his début feature Amira and Sam takes a wry look at post 9/11 America through the eyes of Sam (Martin Starr), an Iraq War veteran, whose life is transformed through a relationship with Amira (Dina Shihabi), the niece of his unit’s former Iraqi translator.

Amira and Sam initially meet when Sam pays a visit to his friend, Bassam (Laith Nakli), who worked as the Iraqi translator when he was in the war and to whom he visits to return a lost emblem. After a brutally awkward meal Sam believes it’s the last he will see of Amira. But when she is caught by the police, boot-legging pirated DVDs, Amira is sent into hiding. Desperate, Bassam asks Sam if he will look after her. After being fired from his job as a security guard, Sam finds work with his cousin Charlie (Paul Wesley) securing investments in hedge funds.

Amira and Sam excels in finding the humor in the tragic. Mullin exploits the comedic potential of Sam, in his under-appreciated job as a security guard, and the irony of Amira trying to sell pirated copies of Western romantic comedies on the side of the road while sporting her hijab. Fans of Freaks and Geeks and Silicon Valley will already be aware of Martin Starr’s talents as a comedic actor and here he is perfectly cast, wringing every last drop of humor from scenes which might have fallen flat in a lesser actor’s hands. Dina Shihabi is also excellent as Amira and has real chemistry with Starr, often acting as a charming foil to his acerbic wit throughout the film.

It seems obvious that Mullin has a political agenda with his film. This is most evidenced in a scene involving a dispute between Sam and his corrupt cousin Charlie who exploits Sam’s army experience to further his ethically dubious hedge funds, by targeting former war veterans. Mullin’s message regarding the ego-centrism and ignorance of those standing on top the pyramid will certainly resonate with many still suffering from the financial crisis. However, Mullin’s political commentary is thinly drawn and offers little insight beyond the now familiar narrative of the ‘1%’ and the rest of us. Mullin is more effective when focusing on the small details, whether they be Sam’s charming cultural clashes with Amira as they build a relationship together, or his quiet conversations with army veteran and potential hedge fund investor Jack (David Rasche) as they reflect on life after the army. Especially affecting is the casual racism shown by Charlie’s friends towards Amira when she arrives at his engagement party in her hijab with Sam. Amira’s bold and confident belief in her own cultural identity, despite their criticism, is refreshing.

Amira and Sam is a charming film which despite its apparent cynicism has an inherent optimism that’s hard not to fall for. Its political commentary can be occasionally simplistic, but also offers important messages around cultural tolerance, and the strong performances of the film’s leads paper over any cracks in the film, bringing Mullin’s gentle romantic comedy to life.

Directed by Anurag Kashyap, Gangs of Wasseypur—released in two parts, each nearly three hours in length—attempts to chronicle the violence and corruption in the criminal underworld of this impoverished region of India. Both parts of the film are narrated by Nasir Ahmed (Piyush Mishra), an assistant to Shahid Khan, who continues to stay with the Khan family through their conflict with Ramadhir Singh. The majority of Gangs of Wasseypur Part One tells the story of Shahid Khan whilst the Gangs of Wasseypur Part Two focuses on the Khan families continued war with Singh.

Gangs of Wasseypur, begins with Shahid Khan who, after being thrown out of his village, finds himself working as a hired muscle for Ramadhir Singh, an industrialist who has made a fortune out of mining coal. However, fearing that one day his ‘lapdog’ may replace him at the top of the food chain Ramadhir Singh has Shahid Khan killed. This death has disastrous consequences for Singh, leading to a bloody conflict with Khan’s son Sardar, the feud between the two spanning across generations.

Given the length of Gangs of Wasseypur, it would be fair to say Kashyap is not a filmmaker who attempts to tell a story concisely. As is the case with any story of this length, keeping the audience engaged is something of a challenge and sadly throughout its running time Gangs of Wasseypur feels saddled by exhaustive levels of exposition. The reason for this is that Kashyap is very keen to establish context, with every crime explained in forensic detail, and placed in the context of the changing political and social landscape of the region. At times this offers an interesting insight into the history of India. However, it is detrimental to the narrative, causing it to lack pace, and leads to the film feeling overburdened by the scale of the story it is trying to tell.

However, Kashyap is clearly not a filmmaker without talent. Throughout both films he cleverly inverts the utopian themes of Bollywood, by juxtaposing classic Bollywood songs with images of violence and corruption on the streets of Wasseypur. This idea of the contrast between Bollywood and reality is further reinforced later in the film by Ramadhir Singh who decries all those who are ‘fooled’ by Bollywood film, exclaiming ‘every fucker trying to become the hero, in his own imaginary film.’ Despite the film’s claims towards realism the excessive violence in Gangs of Wasseypur borders on surrealism. Reminiscent of the work of Nicolas Winding Refn, this provocative portrayal of violence gives the film a similar visceral appeal, yet it also lessens the impact of the film as piece of political commentary. It is another example of Kashyap trying to appeal on too many fronts. The film shifts in tone with conflicting messages, becoming confusing and disorienting.

Despite a commendable performance from its cast, in both parts, Gangs of Wasseypur also suffers from a lack of charm or relatable characters to identify with. In Gangs of Wasseypur Part One, in particular, the desire to see Sardar Khan avenge his father loses its impact when interest in his character is hard to maintain. The female characters, when they do come to the surface, are empathetic but too often reduced to the sidelines of the story.

In the end, both parts of Gangs of Wasseypur disappoint. Kashyap is a director who clearly has a keen-eye for conveying violence, and the clever soundtrack hints at a real talent. However, Gangs of Wasseypur is laborious and overly long, its convoluted plot and lack of empathetic characters makes it a challenge to sit through.

Darius Clarke Monroe’s uniquely personal début documentary, Evolution of a Criminal tells the director’s own story of how he went from an ambitious college student to committing armed robbery of a local Bank of America. The film follows his story mostly through the accounts of his friends, family and those who were a victim of the crime. Darius provides his own personal perspective on the events which led to his arrest, his subsequent time in prison, and his eventual success at being admitted into New York University.

On the surface Evolution of a Criminal has all the hallmarks of the typical true-crime documentary. Evolution of a Criminal begins with the re-enacted footage of Darius being arrested, punctuated with ‘talking head’ interviews with those connected to Darius and archive footage of him and his family. These conventional documentary techniques, however, are given an extra dimension because of his personal involvement in the crime and the making of the documentary. In particular, the fact that Darius himself is conducting the interviews with family members serves to make them all the more emotional and dramatic, as his interviewees often break out into tears, revealing to Darius the pain and torment they were going through when he was arrested. Darius’ personal relationship with his accomplices also helps give an insight into their motivations to commit the crime, this is something that would have been difficult for an ‘outsider’ to achieve. Towards the end of the film there are a fascinating series of encounters between Darius and those who were in the bank at the time, which exposes the impact that crime can have beyond the obvious effect on the bank itself.

Evolution of a Criminal is a thoughtful and intelligent film, yet it does occasionally suffer from its clearly low production costs. This is particularly obvious within the re-enactment scenes which are a little dull and lack the acting quality or polish of recent documentaries, such as the critically acclaimed The Imposter. This causes problems in the middle of the film where he describes the scene of the crime. The amateurish nature of the re-enactments, coupled with the laid-back personality of Darius, who is telling the story at this point, does leave the film lacking in drama when it should be at its most dramatic. It is within these scenes that Darius does show his lack of experience. A little more finesse with the editing of these scenes may have heightened the dramatic effect, despite the film’s low-budget.

Evolution of a Criminal is a careful, but sometimes frustratingly cautious film. Details of Darius’ family life, his relationship with his mother and his father, their hard work, their diligence, and their poverty is retold in painstaking detail. Yet, whilst Darius hints at the politics behind crime, most notably a demoralizing lack of income despite his parents holding down two jobs, he doesn’t interrogate in detail the question over whether his crime is emblematic of a crushing cycle of poverty, as much as it is his own youthful naiveté. There is also a brief account of the trials of prison, including cotton picking and the lack of escape for those stuck inside the system and given Darius’ insight, it leaves you hoping for a little more, but Darius quickly moves back to his personal journey. A wholesale attack on the system would be at odds with Darius’ innate optimism which comes across strongly in the film. Darius’s positivity is infectious and it is refreshing to see a medium, that is often used to explore the horrors of the world, being used to tell a story with a positive message, as Darius achieves his dreams.

In the end Evolution of a Criminal is an admirable film from a first time director, one which reveals his innate storytelling ability, even if it occasionally lacks the polish and finesse of more experienced directors. It will certainly be interesting to see what stories Darius has to tell besides his own and his next film will more than likely be eagerly anticipated.

Starting in June 2013 Edward Snowden released, with the aid of The Guardian and the Washington Post, cables which revealed a global surveillance programme by the National Security Agency, this included the surveillance of British and American citizens. Directed by Laura Poitras Citizenfour documents the director’s relationship with the U.S. whistleblower from the beginning of their first series of cryptic correspondences to their meeting in a hotel in Hong Kong, as the NSA leaks were being published.

Laura Poitras, as she clearly outlines within the film’s opening sequences, has a history of producing documentaries that have aggravated the US government. The Poitras documentary My Country My Country, which offered insight into occupied Iraq, was perhaps too insightful for the government and led it to being held on Homeland Security’s ‘Watch List’. She was therefore an appropriate target for the ominously named ‘citizenfour’ to contact, who immediately starts to describe the danger the data he is sending her will put their lives in.

Poitras’ personal involvement with the publishing of NSA leaks injects Citizenfour with the urgency of a thriller. In an intelligent piece of filmmaking she showsSnowden’s emails being decrypted, before revealing their foreboding messages, a technique which heightens the drama of theinitial correspondence betweenPoitras and Snowden. When the messages are revealed, Poitras’ nervous reading builds to an increasing feeling of dread as ‘citizenfour’ describes an agency ‘reach’ which is ‘unlimited’ but whose ‘safeguards’ are not.

The focus of the majority of the film is the period in which Poitras and two of The Guardian journalists, who published the leaks, meet ‘citizenfour’, who reveals himself to be Edward Snowden, in a hotel room in Hong Kong. This is where the film plays its hand, allowing us to revel its key selling point; being a fly on the wall at the moment when he announced his staggering revelations on the mass surveillance plan of the NSA. It’s a fascinating and captivating watch. Snowden may not have the charisma typically associated with revolutionaries, initially shy and understandably nervous, but he has a resilience and conviction in his ideals and clearly an extraordinary intelligence. This inherent likability carries the film forwards in sections, in which Citizenfour could easily have started to drag, once the initial pace of the film tails off. The intimacy of the scenes in Hong Kong allow us to see the humanity in a figure who until now has been somewhat mythical, as Snowden worries about his appearance as he checks his hair in the mirror and anxiously watches the news on the television in his hotel room.

There is a distinct feeling when watching the film that this is a documentary that has been thrown together in a hurry, and Poitras does not always maintain the polish of the film’s opening sequences. This lack of polish however is part of the voyeuristic appeal of a film, which is literally shot on the run, as Snowden and Poitras, evade the ever pervading presence of the US government, who are desperate to stop any further publishing of leaked cables. Poitras, also adds a further credibility to Citizenfour by surrounding the film with insightful voices including the NSA veteran turned dissident William Binney, who worked for the NSA during and after the cold war, and since resigning in 2001 has been a vocal critic of the organisation. It is worth noting however, that Poitras has little time for those who oppose the Snowden leaks and those seeking a documentary which offers a balanced debate on whether mass surveillance is justified may be disappointed.

Citizenfour is a compelling documentary, which does what no one has yet achieved, to attempt to humanize Edward Snowden, the insight however brief into the inner workings of such a complicated figure is fascinating and is a major part of the appeal of the film. Citizenfour is also an important and globally significant film, providing a record of the evidence of NSA’s widespread surveillance, which has challenged the perception of ‘freedom of speech’ in democracies in the digital age.

Based on S. J. Watson’s highly successful debut novel, Before I Go to Sleep follows the intriguing story of Christine (Nicole Kidman) who, suffering from an acute form of amnesia, wakes up every morning not knowing who she is, where she is, or who the strange man (Colin Firth) laying in the bed beside her is.

Cinema is a medium that has proven on many occasions to be adept at conveying the manipulation of memory. The editing of images and sounds, unsurprisingly lends itself to conveying the confusion that comes with memory disorders like amnesia. It’s also a brilliant template for a thriller, as films such as Christopher Nolan’s Memento have proven. With a strong cast led by Mark Strong and Colin Firth, still riding high after his success with The King’s Speech, director Rowan Joffe would seemingly have all the elements for a great film.

However, despite a promising start, Before I Go to Sleep is sadly let down by a number of flaws which stop it from lacking the sharp edge and depth that could have led to it’s success.

The most apparent of these flaws is an emphasis of plot over character. This may not be surprising considering the norms of the thriller genre, unfortunately it leaves the film feeling more like a Sunday tea-time melodrama, than the fascinating character thriller it could have been.

Few of the film’s characters are given the time to breathe any life into what becomes a rather bland drama. This is particularly the case with Mark Strong’s Doctor Nash, who for all the depth the character is given might as well be called Dr Plot Exposition. Claire, who seems poised to be a significant character, is also frustratingly given very little screen time. The one character who is given life, thanks to a strong performance from Colin Firth, is Ben, Christine’s husband. Firth clearly relishes the chance to play against his reputation as the warm, cuddly, nice guy of cinema and he hits the mark brilliantly in most of his scenes. The scenes in which he reveals his dark side, and attempts to manipulate Christine are especially well-played, but his strong presence only seems to call attention to the weakness of Christine’s character, and gives him little to play off.

The film works best in the tense scenes approaching the film’s climax. Joffe, channeling Kubrick’s The Shining with long nightmarish shots of hotel corridors and dark shadows behind doors, brings the film to life in these scenes, awakening Before I Go To Sleep (if you will forgive the pun) from its slumber. Also, while Nicole Kidman may butcher romantic or complex scenes with a hacksaw with her often cringe-inducing melodramatic acting, she is clearly one of the best in the business at doing the kind of bug-eyed terror required for horror and this heightens the drama of these scenes. There is also some clever directing amongst the clumsy dialogue and thinly drawn characters. An example of this is the use of a digital camera to record Christine’s memories of her day before she forgets it all. It works well and is a clever way of representing her diary entries in the books.

The overriding feeling when watching this film is that too much of it has been left on the cutting room floor, it’s a film that feels rushed. As is often the case with thrillers, the best policy is to slowly drip-feed the film’s twists and turns, but Before I Go to Sleep fails in this department, often jumping the gun and leaving a series of revelations which drive the plot forward but lacking in the impact they could have had if Joffe was a little more patient. The film’s abrupt ending is also likely to leave many feeling cheated of a satisfying climax.

Overall it’s a watchable film and, in some places, even a pleasurable thriller, but too often it fails to rise above mediocre and that is its biggest downfall.

Camp X-Ray opens like a tense thriller, with the capture of Ali Amir (Peyman Moaadi) and his transportation to Guantanamo Bay, played out in quick, rapid cuts and an imposing soundtrack. The film may start with intensity but this isn’t the tone of the film overall. Camp X-Ray takes a gentler approach to conveying the horror of the now infamous Guantanamo Bay, than say Kathryn Bigelow’s Zero Dark Thirty. If Bigelow was focused on the earthquake-like effects of the war on terror, the extreme violence and the desperate hunt for Osama Bin Laden, then director Peter Sattler is much more interested in the aftershocks. Camp X-Ray examines what happens after the terrorists have been captured and are beyond being useful. The film explores what life is like for those who have been forgotten, left to spend the rest of their lives in a detainee camp, and those whose job it is to guard them.

Camp X-Ray follows Private Amy Cole (Kristen Stewart), a new recruit at the camp, who slowly develops a relationship with the enigmatic Ali Amir, a detainee shown in the opening sequence of the film. The development of the relationship between these two characters drives the film forward and is captivating to watch. Fueled by tremendous performances by the film’s two leads. Peyman Moaadi adeptly manages the delicate balance between conveying Ali’s charisma and vulnerability as he strikes up a friendship with Cole (Kristen Stewart) through a series of conversations with her as she patrols the hall outside his cell. Stewart comfortably plays the awkward and distant Cole, who struggles to deal with the social politics between the guards. This is particularly the case concerning her relationship with the overtly masculine Randsell (Lane Garrison), who harbors resentment towards her after she rejects him at a party. Yet as Cole, Stewart also displays a warmness not shown in her earlier films as she opens herself emotionally to Ali and reveals the effect of the job on her conscience.

Ali and Cole’s relationship develops around Ali Amir’s search for the last Harry Potter book within the prison library. The innocent naiveté of the friendship’s beginnings may have been trite in lesser actors’ hands, but here manages to be heartwarming and deeply moving. The surrealist nature of a ‘terrorist’ reading Harry Potter conveys the innate similarities between Ali and Cole, despite the divide between them. These similarities include the fact that both characters are trapped, even if Cole, unlike Ali, has ‘imprisoned’ herself voluntarily within the confines of the camp. Both characters are struggling against the dehumanizing effects of Camp X- Ray; in particular Cole is taken aback with the casual nature with which her contemporaries regularly dismiss the human rights of the detainees.

The relationship between the Cole and Ali is compelling but unfortunately the characters around them aren’t given much depth. This is particularly the case with Randsell, the captain in charge of Cole, who becomes a caricature of the masculine tough army guy. Given Sattler’s surreal juxtaposition between the guards’ lives at the camp and their ordinary life outside, this seems a misstep. A scene portraying the guards forcefully restraining a detainee and leaving him strapped in a chair is saddled next to a scene of the guards partying like teenagers at summer camp. Also baffling is the presentation of Ali as entirely literate and charming, while every other detainee appears wild and uncommunicative. Reducing Cole’s contemporaries to military stereotypes ignores the complexity of the politics that surround Guantanamo Bay. Reducing Ali’s cell mates to vacant, wandering eyed, lunatics, also dilutes some of the impact of the film as an intellectual, political thought-piece, which attempts to offer an insightful examination of the ethical questions that have arisen from America’s response to the 9/11 attacks.

In the end, Camp X-Ray is an exciting debut from Sattler but is much more a showcase for the actors than an astute political observation on the current war on terror.

Believe Me marks director Will Bakke’s first foray into fiction film after two documentaries, One Nation Under God and Beware of the Christians. Both of these films attempted to explore Christianity’s place within modern society, by asking people on the street about their beliefs. Believe Me takes a similar introspective look at Christianity as it follows four college students and their attempts to raise funds for their university tuition by embezzling funds through a fake Christian charity.

After finding out his scholarship has run out Sam (Alex Russell) decides to set up his own fake charity Get Well Soon. The charity targets philanthropic Christians, supposedly to raise money to help fight poverty in Africa, when in fact Sam is using the charity as a front to raise money for his tuition fees at university. His friends agree to go along with his scheme on the condition that they get their own cut of the money, taken from the donations. After a chance encounter with a representative from a major Christian Ministry, Cross Country which helps raise substantial funds for Christian charities, Sam and his three friends Tyler (Sinqua Walls), Pierce (Miles Fisher) and Baker (Max Adler) find themselves on tour with the company traveling across the country, and speaking in front of thousands of people trying to persuade them to donate money to his fake charity.

One of the difficulties of dealing with a plot where the characters carry out an amoral act, stealing in the name of charity, is giving the characters a degree of likability. In lieu of likability, even a degree of uniqueness would make the characters more interesting to watch, but in the case of Believe Me the film’s leads are rather bland. Bakke tries to emulate the laid back college humor of Judd Apatow films, but his characters often come across as one-dimensional and consequently the jokes fall flat. The most pertinent example of this lack of depth, is in the character of Tyler, whose sole purpose is apparently to act as conscience provoker to Sam. There is also a strange encounter with a college professor (Nick Offerman), who breaks down in front of Sam, which doesn’t work. It’s an odd scene that may well be at home on an awkward office comedy such as Parks and Recreation (which Offerman also stars in) but is at odds with the tone of the rest of the film.

However, Believe Me really hits its stride when focusing on the satirical take on Christian commercialization. Each of the leads, who engage in preaching to packed stadiums, practice certain stances to provoke the audience. This includes the ‘Shawshank’, where they hold both arms in the air and look to the heavens as in the famous film Shawshank Redemption and the “Gecko” in which they hold both hands flat towards the ground, like the lizard basking in the sun. The Christian rock singer Gabriel (Zachary Knighton) who joins them on the charity tour is also good fun and helps inject the film with much needed charisma. Johanna Brady also works well to elevate her character from just being Sam’s love interest and provides the emotional backbone to the latter half of the film. Equally, Miles Fisher who plays Sam’s rich friend Pierce, breaks through the confines of the ‘rich boy’ stereotype and as the film develops easily becomes one of the film’s most interesting characters.

Hidden beneath the comedy and gentle drama of Believe Me is a potentially more interesting and darker film. This is particularly the case with Christopher McDonald’s tour leader Ken, whose morals seem to be just as adrift as Sam’s despite appearances. Furthermore, the satire that Believe Me does present of the commercial Christian roadshows, in which people are arguably duped into believing what they are told to believe, is such a rich source material it’s a shame that Bakke decided to not go further and delve deeper into the inner workings of the roadshow.

Believe Me is a film which provokes laughs but too often misses its mark, particularly during the film’s opening sequences. It’s also a film which raises interesting questions around modern Christianity and particularly its relationship with capitalism. However, Bakke’s reluctance to answer any of these questions with anything other than ambiguous platitudes can prove frustrating. There is nothing wrong with ambiguity, especially when dealing with complex issues, but Bakke is so desperate not to preach that in the end Believe Me ends up being a film which says very little.

Believe Me trailer