Steve Coogan’s Alan Partridge character, while only well-known in America to diehard BBC fanatics, is an amusing creation that should spark laughter even in those unfamiliar. A bumbling, egotist, doofus radio DJ who loves his craft so much he would sacrifice his friends for it (he does), Partridge (who Coogan has been portraying for over 20 years in the U.K.) feels like a mix between David Brent and Mr. Bean, relentlessly self-serving and hilariously susceptible to predicaments of the awkward/slapstick variety. Alan Partridge, directed by Declan Lowney and co-written by Coogan, while respectably funny, isn’t equipped with enough material to fill out its 90-minute runtime adequately, feeling more like an elongated sketch show bit.

The film follows Alan, a former big-time sports broadcaster now relegated to a regional radio show in Norwich, as he fights to save his job: The radio station has been bought out by new owners looking to clean out the older, out-of-touch DJs and replace them with hipper, and in this case douche-ier, young gabbers. When his friend and now ex-DJ Pat (the reliable Colm Meaney), a casualty of the radio re-branding, goes cuckoo and creates a hostage situation at the station (armed with a rifle), Alan finds himself as the negotiator between Pat and the police. More importantly, he finds himself an irresistible opportunity to step into the national spotlight once again. The film unmistakably resembles Airheads, but with an older, tidier cast of characters.

With his co-workers’ lives in the balance, Alan, the mouthy coward that he is, plays both sides, simultaneously attempting to abate the hostages’ panic, convince Pat that he’s still a friend (even though he’s mostly responsible for Pat being fired in the first place), and show off his duncish grin to the masses via news cameras covering the crime scene. When Pat ties a cord around Alan’s waist and sends him outside to talk to the police, Alan does little to alleviate the situation, squandering the precious negotiation time on making his adoring (idiotic) fans in the crowd giggle with lame jokes and silly dance moves.

Though the plot is too thin to make it memorable in any sense, it serves its primary function of laying up funny situations for Coogan to mess around in and spread his comedic wings. And he really does soar, a veteran of the comedy game (though he’s shown the true breadth of his range recently in Philomena and What Maisie Knew) who always knows to zig when we predict a zag, keeping us on our toes with over-the-line awkwardness and awfulness. The unbridled idiocy Coogan captures with Alan has clearly been honed for years.

The supporting cast aren’t as funny as Coogan (Meaney comes close), but that’s not the major problem with their roles in the movie. They’re actually all fine actors who deliver good on the task of making Coogan, the main attraction, look good. Tim Key is a standout as Alan’s radio sidekick, and Monica Dolan, who plays Alan’s office booty call, makes every scene with Coogan deliciously irksome. What’s working against the film is that the secondary characters are just as goofy and cartoonish as Partridge, leaving no one to be the straight man underlining just how out-0f-this-world bonkers Coogan is acting. Too many Laurels, not enough Hardys.

The most impressive thing about the Partridge character is that he constantly dares you to hate his guts, spouting distasteful, carefully worded quips rapid-fire…and yet, he’s somehow charming in a strange, undeniable way. He’s winsome ignoramus who deserves to have a great comedy built around him. It’s a shame–Alan Partridge ain’t it.

Alan Partridge trailer

The Best Adapted Screenplay category is the lesser exciting of the two screenplay categories because of the lack of competition within the group of nominees, as well as the lack of films to choose from this year in general. The clear frontrunner this year is John Ridley for 12 Years a Slave, a film about a free black man who got sold into slavery for twelve years of his life. This would be a deserved win for the film as it does stand out against the rest of the competition.

I believe the only film here that could potentially upset 12 Years a Slave is Steve Coogan and Jeff Pope for Philomena—which contains its own heart-wrenching story about a woman searching for her son. Richard Linklater’s Before Midnight may have wooed critics, but a nomination from the Academy is likely all the film will receive. The Wolf of Wall Street certainly portrays the wild (drug induced) ride of Jordan Belfort as a wealthy stockbroker who became a main target of the federal government. Though as exciting as it is to watch, the script benefited from the masterful hand of Martin Scorsese and his crew. The same can be said about Captain Phillips, the story is interesting but not necessarily exceptional.

Though it would be a complete long shot for several reasons, including the fact that it is a foreign language film that is rated NC-17, Blue is the Warmest Color deserved to be nominated for its comic book adaption about a woman’s self-discovery and passionate love for another woman. Blue is the Warmest Color is an admittedly simple story, but one that captures all the raw emotions and intimacy that surrounds a loving relationship. Not to mention that it was the best film of 2013.

Category Predictions

Best Adapted Screenplay Nominees

Richard Linklater, Julie Delpy, Ethan Hawke – Before Midnight (review)

Billy Ray – Captain Phillips (review)

Steve Coogan and Jeff Pope – Philomena (review)

John Ridley – 12 Years a Slave (review)

Terence Winter – The Wolf of Wall Street

Previous Category Analysis

Best Shorts
Best Supporting Actress
Best Supporting Actor
Best Original Screenplay

Judi Dench, an actress capable of moving mountains with her onscreen power, is capable of  much more than what’s required of her in Philomena, a good film based on an astounding true story, directed by Stephen Frears (The Queen). Embodying the titular character doesn’t come close to exhausting Dench’s extensive capabilities, but instead of overpowering the film just to show off, or lazing her way through the material like she’s above it, Dench applies just the right amount of pressure, hitting that sweet, sweet spot because, well, she’s Judi Dench and brilliance is kind of her thing.

In 1950’s Ireland, a young Philomena Lee was sent to a Catholic convent to atone for the sin of getting pregnant out of wedlock. The atonement was unscrupulously extreme; her son, Anthony, then barely a toddler, was taken from her without her consent and sold to a wealthy family in America. Philomena, a devout Catholic and a (perplexingly) forgiving soul, obliged the covent’s wishes to not seek out the son they swiped. That is, until 2003 when she met journalist Martin Sixsmith (Steve Coogan.)

Martin, reeling from public humiliation (he was just fired from his job with the government), stumbles upon an opportunity to redeem himself in Philomena, an ostensibly perfect subject human interest story as she’s approaching a breaking point in her now nearly 50-year-long lament of Anthony. She agrees to let Martin document her journey to America to uncover what’s become of her son.

Coogan (who also co-wrote the film), a tested comedic performer, carefully plants moments humor throughout the mostly somber film, though he approaches the weightier dramatic moments with a measure of sensitivity and finesse that proves his range more expansive than one might expect. His blackly cynical, know-it-all take on Sixsmith plays nicely off of Dench’s endearingly gullible and simple-souled Philomena. I hesitate to call them an odd couple (though they’re different on many levels), because of how well the pairing works. Philomena’s general naiveté and disconnect with the media world Martin is so wrapped up in always pushes his buttons in the most hilarious way. Martin just can’t let go of the improbability of every hotel worker Philomena meeting being “one in a million”, as she calls them. He’s a smart-ass, and her kindness baffles him (though it’ll eventually enlighten him.)

The film’s tone is bittersweet, with Philomena’s deep-seated regret propelling the duo’s journey forward at a gentle glide. Several unexpected twists and turns keep the narrative from plateauing, and it’s riveting to watch Martin’s transformation as he observes Philomena’s kind-hearted nature and begins to recalibrate his exhaustingly pessimistic outlook on life. As he becomes personally and emotionally attached to Philomena’s search for Anthony, he finds it harder and harder to do his job and treat her as merely the subject of his story, and his feelings only become more conflicted. If it seems like I’m being evasive about the details of Martin and Philomena’s trip to America, it’s because they’re best discovered as you watch the film.

Frears exhibits little style in the way he presents the story and almost doesn’t do it justice. The imagery, camerawork, and editing feel very “bare-minimum” and don’t match Dench and Coogan’s passion. He merely presents their performances instead of elevating them. It’s an understated film, with a permeating sense of loss and regret, but it often feels too hushed and visually muted for its own good. Still, Frears’ technique is solid and causes the story no real harm, and the beautiful final message of the film rings loud and true.

The San Francisco International Film Festival is the biggest festival of the year in the Bay Area, and my SFIFF experience got off to a great start. My festival activities began at the gorgeous Fairmont hotel where I conducted an interview with the team of Scott McGehee and David Siegel (Bee Season) directors of SFIFF’s opening night film, What Maisie Knew, and Maisie herself, the adorable 7-year-old Onata Aprile. It was a pleasure to speak with them, and Onata handled the interview with the poise and experience of a pro. Scott and David were fantastic as well, and it was a blast to get to talk to such talented filmmakers. Stay tuned to Way Too Indie for the full interview in the coming weeks.

Next up was the opening night screening of What Maisie Knew at the Castro Theater, which is quickly becoming one of my all-time favorites in the Bay. Before the screening, SFIFF executive director Ted Hope addressed the large audience with a warm and appreciative introduction to the festival. Next, Ted made the surprise announcement that the recipient of the 2013 Peter J. Owens Award for Acting goes to…Han freaking Solo! Harrison Ford will be in esteemed company, with previous recipients like Sean Penn, Robert Redford, Annette Bening, and Kevin Spacey.

The film was followed by a Q&A with my old friends, McGehee, Siegel, and tiny Miss Onata, conducted by SFIFF director of programming, Rachel Rosen. Onata was asked of her four co-stars—Alexander Skarsgard, Julianne Moore, Steve Coogan, and Joanna Vanderham—which she liked the best. She paused for a while, not sure of how to answer the question, when Siegel suggested that we all knew it was a “tall Swedish man.” Onata paused for a while longer, and finally answered she liked “all of them.” Priceless.

After the Q&A, the celebration continued down by the water at Temple Night Club. I stuffed my face with delicious mung bean salad, artichoke bites, beer, and gelato. Needless to say, there’s a rumbly in my tumbly, and it’s not a pleasant one…

Anyway, on to my impressions of What Maisie Knew…

What Maisie Knew

The film tells the story from the perspective of Maisie, a six-year-old girl whose parents—now separated—constantly bicker and fight over and around Maisie as if she was some sort of trophy. The parents (Moore and Steve) each find light-haired, young hard-bodies (Skarsgard and Vanderham) and marry them, in hopes of winning sole custody over Maisie in court. As her parents’ war rages on, Maisie finds that her step-parents may be the parents she’s deserved all along.

Aprile positively makes this film. It wouldn’t have worked without her. All of the dramatic material works because she’s so darn cute and lovable. You just can’t help but want her to be happy. When her parents spit and curse around her, she simply observes with a straight face, turns around, and goes to her room to play. Aprile seems more comfortable and natural in her scenes than any of her cast mates, including Moore. It’s incredible to watch. Her chemistry with Skarsgard feels so genuine it’s startling.

The four adults do very good work as well (Moore’s final scene is a showstopper), but Aprile handily outshines them. The story the actors have to work with isn’t particularly interesting, but they do their best. What elevates What Maisie Knew are the excellent performances put forth by the actors and quality camerawork by the co-directors. Above all else, Maisie provides an early look at one of cinema’s future superstars.

RATING: 7