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(Glasgow Film Festival ● Select event time ● Here are a list of days and times at which this event will take place ● March Sun 06 Screening time 20:20 ● Mon 07.Screening time 15:00) https://glasgowfilm.org/glasgow-film-festival/shows/red-rocket-nc-18 "Red Rocket" "Red Rocket" in a magnetic, live-wire performance. It's a darkly funny, raw, and humane portrait of Mikey Saber (Simon Rex), an uniquely 'American' hustler, and a hometown that barely tolerates him. Mikey Saber is illuminating the hustler’s code, or something akin to it. Maybe it’s an overall philosophy of life. Maybe it’s just a way of explaining his character. Whatever it's, there’s a truth to it. Some people, if there’s a bottle thrown into a crowd, they’re going to get hit in the head with it every time. Other people step in shit and come out smelling like roses and nothing ever happens to them. Mikey’s just one of those guys. He doesn’t think about the future. He doesn’t care about ramifications. Flat broke and scheming, Mikey is back home in his tiny town of Texas City, T after a Los Angeles flame-out, hoping to move back in with his estranged wife Lexi (Bree Elrod) and mother-in-law Lil (Brenda Davis). They shouldn’t let him in, but they do. Mikey’s a man-child, constantly sugarcoating things for his own mental state. He’s feeding his head with positivity because he can’t really face the negative place he's in. It’s literally the only way he can cope. Everything is always somebody else’s fault. You see a lot of 'America' in that. That’s definitely an 'American' characteristic, somebody who's striving for success and it doesn’t matter who’s left trampled on the sidelines. You see it in "There Will Be Blood" and "The Wolf Of Wall Street" too, these ruthless guys who exploit to get to the top. The film uses comedy to a degree to soften Mikey, to show how one could be attracted to him. The central character is a distinctively American figure; a confidence man, an irrepressible optimist and a total grifter. Like snake-oil salesmen and Ponzi schemers, Mikey earns his living as a specific kind of freeloader, feeding off other people’s false hopes and real work; a suitcase pimp. It's a total revelation for the character. Since leaving the adult movie industry herself, Lexi has retreated to their hometown and slipped into drugs, but Mikey’s return sparks in her a mass of conflicting feelings, not all of them negative. She can see through the bullshit and can identify it immediately. But she's also a woman who's very lost and feeling trapped and addicted. Sometimes when you love someone, it can cloud your judgment and you can fall back into bad habits easily. Lexi’s character is crucial to the design of the film. She’s a keyhole into Mikey’s past and also, potentially, an opportunity for his redemption. Forgiveness may be off the table, but there’s a thaw. Still, Texas City doesn’t really know what to do with Mikey, this oddball former resident and washed up pseudo-celebrity riding around town on a borrowed bicycle. He’s un-hirable, unmanageable and largely irredeemable, especially to Lexi’s no-nonsense mother Lil, Significantly, "Red Rocket" is about Mikey’s eventual comeuppance at the hands of a community of women who grow tired of the hustles he believes he’s pulling off at their expense. Leading that charge, and quick to see through him, is Leondria (Judy Hill), a pot-supply kingpin. A dark comedy with a keen attention to the dynamics of sex and power, "Red Rocket" works on it's own terms as a high-wire balancing act and mesmerizing character-driven drama. Intriguingly, though, we sometimes hear snippets of a very different off-screen drama; a careful listener will realize that the film, about a malignant narcissist on the outs, is set during the fateful summer of 2016. "Red Rocket" is a product of bold thinking and even bolder resourcefulness. An exhilarating realm of dark comedy, stylistic ambition, and pure off-the-grid adventurousness. It's a film that turns on a pin from live-wire comedy to quiet poignancy and back again, a movie as big and complex as the character at it's center. Rarely explored on film, much less on TV or in literature, the suitcase pimp is a male hanger-on, often a loosely employed boyfriend or husband, who manages a more popular female porn star, grooming and using her. Their lives are all about exploitation and using the women they’re with. The women make thousands while the men are making hundreds at best. So they've to live off the women, financially. There’s a self-denial, a holier-than-thou attitude, an obliviousness, an ignorance that these guys have. Because that’s how we think the magic happens in life, when you don’t have any expectations and you just go. And that’s what happened with this movie. It’s the full spectrum of our obscene, over-the-top culture, a culture of excess. written by Gregory Mann

Why Hide? (Newcastle Film Festival) A derivative, clichéd and low brow attempt at a comedy horror. This film stole from (the makers might say paid homage to) the original Evil Dead. We got similar jokes to Shaun of the Dead (in this case, a cricket bat is replaced by a 9-iron as a comical weapon) but "Shaun" respected the genre it was poking fun at more. I was also reminded of a lesser known British comedy The Cottage but I can't put my finger on why. A lot also seemed stolen from the Conjuring and Insidious films. I.e. creepy inexplicable set pieces which tended to end in a loud bang. There was also one scene I'm fairly sure was ripped straight from the god-awful Insidious: The Last Key. On a side note, it's also a bit awkward when the director brings his own intoxicated crowd (I assume some of the film's actors and the director's mates) to the film who then woop and laugh loudly at every low brow "joke" while the rest of the audience sit in silence. Oh that guy is camp...ahahahah (always hilarious :/)... oh look at that overweight guy running around in his white pants hahaha.... *sigh*. The effects of the creature weren't bad considering this was a low budget production, but it was never quite clear to me what the creature was or what it could do, which removed any kind of fear for me.

Directed by the one and only Guillermo Del Toro, and starring Sally Hawkins, Michael Shannon, Doug Jones, Richard Jenkins and Octavia Spencer. The Shape of Water is the story of a mute by the name of Eliza, who works as a janitor in a top secret facility in the 1960’s. Run by Strickland (Shannon), the government are harbouring something extraordinary that Eliza just happens to stumble across whilst cleaning in a certain area, when she realises what this creature is, she soon realises that love isn’t only a thing meant to be shared by two humans. Now this film sweeped up at the oscars, Taking best picture, best score, best production design and also best director. I was worried that this film would’ve been completely overhyped and disappointing to me. I’m so happy to say that I’ve completely eaten those words and this film is so so worthy of the Best Picture award. The Shape of Water is Del Toro’s best work in years. It’s an absolute spectacle to watch, every scene is just so scattered with little things here and there and all around the screen, and the deeper meaning behind the film is just gorgeous. I’ve never felt so emotionally connected to a mute and a monster, who also can’t talk. Acting wise, no surprises here that it’s acted superbly. Sally Hawkins is incredible, if it wasn’t for Francis McDormand, then I think Hawkins would’ve taken best actress, you feel every inch of emotion from her and she doesn’t speak a word throughout. You really feel her pain, or her happiness, or any emotion she’s feeling, and that’s just by facial expressions and hand gestures, and that just blew me away, I don’t think I’ve ever seen that done so well, Sally Hawkins take a bow, it’s an incredible performance. Michael Shannon was my personal standout though, he floored me as Strickland. He’s one of those proper All American, 1960s father figures who constantly needs to be in control, otherwise he gets all pissy and feels insecure in my opinion. Michael Shannon is always brilliant and always delivers, and this is no excuse, he’s fantastic in this, a truly villainous human who’ll stop at nothing to sabotage certain plans. The secondary characters are also really great, Richard Jenkins as Eliza’s friend and neighbour is also a real stand out, doing what he possibly can to help the one person in his life, you can see he loves her, not in the generic romantic way, but in a way that’s almost like family, a true friend, and you can tell he’d be lonelier than ever if he lost her. Octavia Spencer is also brilliant, but again, what isn’t she brilliant in at this point? If you can’t tell by now, I adored The Shape of Water, the pacing is perfect, every scene was fantastic, the meaning behind the film was emotional and I can see it hitting a few people emotionally harder than others. I don’t think this is a film for everyone, I don’t think all scenes are gonna mesh with everyone and I think some people are going to be confused with the visual imagery and possibly offended by certain scenes. But for me, this is a perfect, gorgeous and heartfelt film, and truly is a remarkable love story. I adore The Shape of Water.

(London Filn Festival, Thursday October 10th 2019, Odeon Tottenham Court Road, Central Cross, 30 Tottenham Court Rd, London W1T 1BX, UK, 18:15 pm) https://whatson.bfi.org.uk/lff/Online/default.asp?BOparam::WScontent::loadArticle::permalink=cunningham&BOparam::WScontent::loadArticle::context_id= "Cunningham" "Cunningham" traces Merce’s artistic evolution over three decades of risk and discovery (1944–1972), from his early years as a struggling dancer in postwar New York to his emergence as one of the world’s most visionary choreographers. The '3D' technology weaves together Merce's philosophies and stories, creating a visceral journey into his innovative work. A breathtaking explosion of dance, music, and never-before-seen archival material, the film is a timely tribute to one of the world’s greatest modern dance artists. During the years 1942-1972, he made his dances against all odds. He was always ready to place himself in unfamiliar situations and find new solutions. Throughout his career he embraced new technologies, from 16mm, television and video to the use of computers, body sensors and motion-capture technology. Cunningham had arrived in the city in 1939 with an invitation to join Graham’s company. In the 1940s, Merce Cunningham, along with John Cage, began a journey that would change the relationship between contemporary dance, music and art. Cunningham proposed the revolutionary idea that dance could exist independent of music, a concept that would dominate his unparalleled career for more than half a century. He popularized the idea of dance as a visual experience and trained some of the greatest dancers of his time, including Paul Taylor, Viola Farber, Douglas Dunn, Charles Moulton, Deborah Hay, Steve Paxton, Ashley Chen and Jonah Bokaer. 'The United States', and New York in particular, was becoming the global center of artistic innovation. 'Abstract Expressionist' painters like Willem de Kooning and Jackson Pollock, radical composers including Arnold Schoenberg, and Martha Graham’s revolutionary troupe dominated the cultural scene. In 1944, he presented his first solo concert with composer John Cage, who became his frequent collaborator and lifelong romantic partner. Together they explored groundbreaking artistic philosophies, incorporating experiments with chance into their work as a way to free themselves from preconceived ideas. The pair acquired a third creative partner in 1952 when they met the then- emerging artist Robert Rauschenberg at the experimental, arts-focused 'Black Mountain College' in North Carolina. Like Cunningham and Cage, Rauschenberg resisted labels during his lengthy career, but is widely acknowledged as a forerunner in many art movements that developed after 'Abstract Expressionism'. Without a steady source of income, they collected scrap wood off the street and burned it to keep warm in winter. Cunningham rehearsed in his living space and often alone. In 1953, Cunningham launched 'The Merce Cunningham Dance Company' so he could concentrate full-time on his explorations. "Cunningham" includes a treasure trove of archival materials, a visual record of the dancer’s singular talent, Merce alone and with his company, rehearsing, performing, choreographing, and teaching. Often dressed in rehearsal clothes, he and his dancers bend, leap, spin and fall with abandon, combining what he thought were the best elements of classical ballet with the most interesting innovations in modern dance. One of the most memorable is a Rauschenberg-designed pointillist backdrop used for the original presentation of 'Summerspace', a 1958 collaboration. In the 1960s, Andy Warhol, the major figure of New York avant-garde film world, spent quite a bit of time in Merce’s studio. By the early 1970s, Merce began working with film and video himself primarily with filmmaker Charles Atlas. When Carolyn Brown, the last original member of his first company, left in 1972, that, the end of an era. Dance pioneer Merce Cunningham created some of the most iconic, influential work of his generation, incorporating the groundbreaking artistic ideals of mid-century visual arts and music, and redefining his art form. During a lifetime of artistic engagement with such diverse musicians as John Cage, Robert Rauschenberg, and Andy Warhol, Cunningham created a new dance technique and celebrated movement as manifestation of being human and of being alive. After his death in 2009 at the age of 90, many felt uncertain about the future of his legacy and his fearless innovations. The new documentary "Cunningham" guarantees that his work will live on, in a stunning immersive experience that preserves some of his greatest works. Neither a straightforward biopic nor a traditional concert film, "Cunningham" was conceived as a 93-minute art piece that would tell the master’s story through his work. Combining Cunningham’s fascinating life experiences with his landmark artistic achievements, the film forges a delicate balance between facts and metaphors, exposition and poetry. A tribute to the visionary artist’s creative genius in a journey through the first 30 years of his career in New York City, the film traces the evolution of his thought and channels his spirit. Personal photographs, intimate letters, 16mm and 35mm footage, and home movies of performances, rehearsals, tours and gatherings offer the audience a glimpse of the choreographer’s visionary mind, while excerpts of iconic Cunningham works are performed by the last generation of his dancers and reimagined for '3-D' cinema. A '3D' movie about an avant-garde choreographer? We can make documentaries about choreographers or dancers as people, about life of a dance company and so on. But how to make a film that will allow the audience to experience choreographers work? "Cunningham" is based on an iconic photo of Merce’s dancers posing in the Robert Rauschenberg’s pointillist décor of his piece 'Summerspace', which was taken by Robert Rutledge in 1958. Merce staged this photograph himself by dropping Rauschenberg’s canvas on both the wall and the floor so it surrounded the dancers. It becomes that even back in the 1950s, before Merce developed the idea of an event, he had been longing to create immersive environments for his dances. The film is drawn to the genius of Merce Cunningham, the intricacies of his mind; his approaches that he invented making his dances; and his philosophies that he followed living his life and re-defining ideas about being human. His story is an incredible triumph of the human spirit. During the first 30 years of his career, between 1942-1972, he persevered, with great determination and stamina, to make dances against all odds. He was always ready to get outside himself, to place himself in unknown situations, and find new solutions. All this took place in a unique artistic climate, during the 1950s and 1960s in New York, when Cunningham and his collaborators were united by their poverty and ideas and art and life had virtually no separation. Merce’s dances evoke a sense of timelessness, a space in between rational and irrational, intellectual and emotional, immediate and eternal, that truly renews us. '3D' offers interesting opportunities as it articulates the relationship between the dancers in and to the space, awaking a kinesthetic response among the viewers. It also favors uncut choreographed shots, moving camera, and multiple layers of action in relation to the setting, everything that allows working with Merce’s choreography on screen in new ways. Merce and '3D' represent an idea fit, not only because of his use of space but also because of his interest in every technological advancement of his time, from 16mm film to motion capture, and his willingness to adapt and work in unconventional settings/locations, creating over 700 Cunningham Events, I.e. performances comprised of excerpts from different dances adapted for a specific location with the audience following the dancers. Today, '3D' allows for his dream to come true. The film is a 90-minute artwork in itself, which tells Merce’s story through his dances. It's a hybrid, rooted in both imaginary worlds and moving life experiences. A delicate balance between facts and metaphors, exposition and poetry. A single camera approach is used to choreograph the viewer’s eye, highlighting the dimensional relationships among performers and settings, uniquely enabled by '3D' technology. The aspiration has been to develop a unique language, integrating all the elements of the film in a subtle, distinct and poetic way, in Merce’s spirit. Seeing a dance through the lens of a camera changes everything. While viewing a dance on a stage you are free to look anywhere in the space, whereas the camera has to be carefully and strategically placed as it guides the eye within the limits of its perspective. The lens often skews a shape. For instance, it can make an arm look lifted when it should simply be horizontal or it can distort the spacing dramatically. With the true artistic collaboration that we developed, these small details could be worked out seamlessly and we developed a true understanding for one another’s point of view. Film is forever, so there's an enormous amount of pressure for the performers and an enormous responsibility in making the final choices on the takes. But beyond that trigger of emotion is the fact that he and his early collaborators and dancers tell the story, in their own voices, which gives a weight and power to this film that's undeniable. His willingness to break boundaries has been infectious and engendered courage in all of us. You've to love dancing to stick to it. It gives you nothing back, no manuscripts to store away, no paintings to show on walls and maybe hang in museums, no poems to be printed and sold, nothing but that single fleeting moment when you feel alive.

A worthy sequel for the potty-mouthed red menace After suffering a personal tragedy and hitting rock bottom, Wade Wilson (Deadpool) finds himself seeking consolation at the X-Mansion where he's reunited with Colossus and Negasonic Teenage Warhead. However, after a training mission goes badly wrong and spending time in the Icebox – a notorious mutant prison – Deadpool's priority changes. Deadpool sets about building a team of rogue mutants with the aim of rescuing Russell – a 14-year-old boy and fellow mutant – from the clutches of the brutal, time-traveling mutant known as, Cable. I had been concerned about Deadpool 2 after the news that director, Tim Miller had left the project over "creative differences" with the lead actor, Ryan Reynolds: stating he "didn't want to make some stylised movie that was 3 times the budget." I have to say, that is essentially what has happened, and something that made Deadpool the success that it was has been lost along the way. Deadpool 2 then, is another example of bigger not always being better. Fortunately, the film retains enough of its predecessor's charm, wit, and other unique qualities to get it through. The cast from the first film are back in full force: Ryan Reynolds reprises his role of Wade Wilson (Obviously - who else?) and T.J. Miller returns as Weasel, Wade's wise-cracking but cowardly friend. Fan favourites, Brianna Hildebrand and Stefan Kapicic return as Negasonic Teenage Warhead and Colossus respectively, along with a mixed bag of new mutants including the brilliant Zazie Beetz as Domino. Deadpool 2 is another strong outing for Josh Brolin in his second Marvel appearance of the year and – like Thanos before him – is able to create a truly three dimensional and sympathetic character in Cable. Overall, the cast is excellent, I enjoyed all the new characters and was thrilled to see Brianna and Stefan return. My only issue with the film (in regards to the cast at least) is that I'd like to have seen a good deal more from Brianna and Shioli Katsuna - who plays Yukio, a new addition to the cast and Negasonic's girlfriend. Negasonic was one of my favourite characters in Deadpool, but here, she never really gets involved, and Yukio's abilities are teased towards the end of the third act but never really explored sufficiently. The soundtrack and cinematography are adequate but nothing like as memorable as Deadpool and the action scenes are competently shot, although some of the larger set-pieces do suffer from the usual Marvel movie problem of looking over-manufactured. In contrast, the smaller fight scenes feel considerably more physical, concise, and enjoyable; something sorely missing from many recent Marvel releases. Verdict Whilst never quite reaching the same heights as its predecessor, Deadpool 2 retains its razor-sharp wit, deadpan humour, and proves itself a worthy sequel to one of my favourite 'superhero' movies of recent years. Deadpool 2 keeps up the tradition of its fourth wall breaking, self-referential humour and parodying of superhero genre cliches, even if it does fall into a few in the process. The cast is superb and – working off a splendid script – delivers their lines faultlessly. Where the film falters slightly is, firstly in the story, and secondly in trying to be bigger and louder than it needs to be. No-one goes to see a film like Deadpool 2 to watch something with an underlying, philosophical message about the importance of family. I'm sorry, but they just don't, and yet that's exactly what this film attempts. There's also a real fear for me that the Deadpool movies may be getting a bit too big for their boots, as they say. The first film was better for being less over the top and more modest in the scale of its set-piece action scenes. I fear that future films could soon become more corporate and lose more of what made them special; until they're just more of the same. For now at least, this will be another film to add to my collection and one I very much enjoyed seeing at the cinema. 8/10

The horror experience that silenced an audience It's well recognised that in horror, both silence and sound can be equally terrifying. This is a dynamic A Quiet Place plays around with extremely well, following a family trying to stay alive as sounds sensitive creatures stalk them. It's a risky move for a first-time horror director, as films with a singular central premise tend to live or die by how consistently they are implemented. It's difficult to get right and easy to slip-up; creating inconsistencies that can completely derail a movie. John Krasinski clearly has a keen eye for detail, and I made sure to take note of as many of the sound related specifics I could; but not once did I spot something that took me out of the experience. That's what this film was for me, a true cinematic experience. "An afternoon showing of a film like this should be pretty quiet" - I told my partner (with no pun intended), as we stood in line for tickets, undeterred by the crowds of people whom I assumed had children with them. As we got seated in one of the larger screens at our local cinema; waiting for the film to begin, it became apparent I had been mistaken. Near to capacity, the screen was very busy and loud. Something that had troubled me having known about the movie's reliance on sound, or the lack of it. Phones beeped, people chirped, the cinema snacks rustled and crunched, and I despaired. Finally, the lights dimmed, the screen did that weird stretchy thing, and the film started. Then, silence. Within seconds, utter silence. The opening scene: an abandoned supermarket with little other than crisps left on the shelves and the Abbott family carefully, and quietly scavenging for supplies. The leaden nature of the film was apparent immediately, and the severity of the consequence of making any sound was made horrifically clear soon after. The Abbotts, in general, seem to have adapted to this new-found need for silence better than most. Thanks – in no small part – to their daughter being deaf, an important plot point, and meaning they can communicate through sign language. Never before have I been in a screening for a movie that had the audience so united in fear of making any noise themselves. The feeling of dread and distress I felt watching this film hadn't been so jarring since my first viewing of (Ridley Scott's.) Alien. It was Brilliant! The cinematography here is excellent, with both panoramic and close-up shots being used to ruthless efficiency to create a sense of eerie loneliness and claustrophobia. It's a really clever pairing that works well in horror if applied correctly. The vast openness of the landscape creates the illusion of freedom and opportunity, their situation dictates otherwise. Much like in Alien – which used the vast openness of space and a spaceship with incredibly narrow corridors to create the same ambience – the family are little better than prisoners, being unable to travel far, or anywhere unfamiliar; it's just too risky. The soundtrack is also outstanding and is particularly important in a movie like this. Mixing understated, mood-setting music with many natural, ambient sounds is something Crimson Peak did extraordinarily well; A Quiet Place follows suit. The cast is superb. John Krasinski and Emily Blunt as husband and wife – Lee and Evelyn Abbott – both give (perhaps unsurprisingly), excellent and genuine performances. Their relationship as a married couple is never in doubt - perhaps because they are actually married? Special mention should unquestionably go to young Millicent Simmonds and Noah Jupe – Regan and Marcus Abbott – however, who are exemplary in every aspect of their performances. This is the first time I've seen either of them on screen, and I can't wait to see what they've both done before, and what they'll both do in the future. These two are definitely ones to watch. Verdict "I was never a horror movie guy" - says John Krasinski, which makes this movie's success all the more impressive. After adapting the screenplay and deciding to direct the film, John watched several modern horror movies; Crediting "Get Out", "The Witch" and "The Babadook" as "influential with how people do tension and terror." I agree. But, the film also borrows heavily from classics like Alien, Jaws, Rosemary's Baby, and The Birds and it really shows. A Quiet Place is a masterclass of suspense and edge of your seat horror, and it draws you in and clutches you from the very first scene; not letting go until well after the end credits roll. 10/10

Oppenheimer (2023) Cold, dark and brooding, Oppenheimer misses the mark when it comes to narrative drama. Christopher Nolan’s $100 million summer blockbuster explores the making of the atomic bomb, and America’s tumultuous attempts to come to terms with what it unleashed.   Over three long hours, Nolan time-hops between the 1920s through to the 1950s as American scientist J. Robert Oppenheimer (Cillian Murphy) develops the bomb and struggles with its moral and political fallout. Oppenheimer is brought on to the Manhattan Project by the US Army’s Leslie Groves (Matt Damon), and the story is woven with two complex love interests in Kitty Oppenheimer (Emily Blunt) and Jean Tatlock (Florence Pugh).   Many of the post-war scenes centre on the jealousies and obsessions of Lewis Strauss (Robert Downie Jr.), chair of the US Atomic Energy Commission, as he seeks the Senate’s approval to join Eisenhower’s cabinet.   This is undoubtedly an all-star cast, but beyond the wry wit of Damon’s character, the ensemble inspired little feeling. Is this numbness an ingenious reflection of how most of us feel when trying to comprehend something so morally complex and shudderingly terrifying as nuclear weapons? That may be too generous.   The danger in biopics is that the meandering complexities of people’s real lives rarely lend themselves to excellent narrative cinema. By way of example, a line that jars most with the tone is when the President calls Oppenheimer a “cry-baby”. It felt limp and cheesy, yet a quick internet search later shows it is historically accurate that Truman said this. There’s an irony that if the best Hollywood writers were freed from the constraints of historical record, a more consistent tone could probably have kept the film on track.   Non-linear storytelling is Nolan’s bread and butter, but overall Oppenheimer’s sequencing leaves a lot to be desired. The fundamental flaw is the set-up of a rivalry between Oppenheimer and Strauss, where for much of the film it is not entirely clear what their conflict is even about.   The two main characters barely meet or interact on screen, leading to a frustrating absence of drama. Nolan has the skill to pull this off – he did so exquisitely with Hugh Jackman and Christian Bale’s rival characters in The Prestige – but he may have taken a time and space hop too far here, thawing any sense of friction between the characters.   Oppenheimer is packed with dialogue, but much of it is emotionally muted, faux scientific and essentially dull. Talking about science and showing how people work together in a lab might not sound like a winning recipe, but try telling that to the Oscar-winning writer of The Imitation Game, Graham Moore. The Imitation Game also uses flashbacks and flashforwards, but with a sense of purpose that makes the audience invest more in its main character.   Murphy’s Oppenheimer struggles to draw out the same emotion. Perhaps that is not surprising, given he is the father of the atomic bomb, but the lack of emotional connection to the main characters made it difficult to feel much when they faced tragedy or internal turmoil. Often cinema uses love or romance to help open up their main character, but in this Oppenheimer didn’t prioritise making the audience relate. Most of us aren’t so squishy and perfect as a Rom Com when falling in love, but most of us aren’t so grim and sad as Oppenheimer either.   The film is very America-centric, which may be a conscious choice given the themes of introspection (or lack of). When Oppenheimer is picturing the scenes of destruction caused by the dropping of the A-bomb on Hiroshima and Nagasaki, he visualises them within an American lecture theatre. The Americanisation of trauma is reminiscent of the old Vietnam War films made in Hollywood, which can feel a little crass in our globalised world. The moral questioning could have been more powerful if the audience was confronted with the devastation in Japan itself.   Space to explore the moral dilemmas was denied to the audience, perhaps as a reflection of the self-denial that the main characters are experiencing. But while that allows the audience into Oppenheimer’s psyche, it does not necessarily make for compelling viewing. An interesting dynamic is the use of a black and white filter for the scenes furthest in the future, reflecting how the world had stepped backwards since the making of the bomb.   No audience member could walk away without being acutely aware that we live with the means for our own extinction. The themes of Oppenheimer are also timely as questions remain unanswered over who will regulate or control artificial intelligence.   A metaphor about getting carried away with our own abilities might be appropriate as Nolan indulges his love of gritty time-jumps at the expense of viewer satisfaction.

The Hurt Locker is a 2009 war-drama film surrounding a squad of soldiers assembled in Iraq who are perturbed by their new man - Sergeant William James, a wildfire and an expert in defusing bombs. This is just an exquisite piece of filmmaking. Everybody involved is at the top of their game. Bigelow's direction is so tonally and atmospherically perfect for this movie (and the subsequent thematically-linked movies she would go on to make). If there's one thing Bigelow does better than a LOT of other directors, it's building tension and seeing it payoff in a satisfying way. FULL props to Miss Bigelow for this achievement in directing. Jeremy Renner hit his peak with this performance and it's hard to think of him putting in work that's better. He challenges that with 'THE TOWN' and years later, 'WIND RIVER' but 'THE HURT LOCKER' remains his most complex, enthralling character and performance to date. His provocative, erratic Sergeant James is as wild as you would expect, but Renner manages to deliver periods of restraint, where we see his quieter moments, something another actor might have chosen to load with a quiet rage, but Renner's ability to pull back, even for a second, is invaluable to the character work. I also have to mention Brian Geraghty's sensitive, compelling work as Eldridge here as an addendum, because his performance has always been overlooked and I strongly support more love and attention for it. A lot of that effort is achieved by Mark Boal's screenplay, which is superbly written and packed with some good dialogue, characters, and some lovely storytelling through action set pieces, which combine themselves beautifully with Bigelow's abilities. Even though this may not be seem to be a writer's film, it most certainly benefits from the tightness of the screenplay. The documentary-style cinematography from Barry Ackroyd was a bold choice to take for this move, as were the abundance of hand-held shots. But when you're shooting and the framing the frenetic energy of war, Ackroyd proves to be right, as his informal frames and shots capture everything through a seemingly ordinary lens, painting these soldiers as real as any another person so that their more inaccessible struggles, such as defusing bombs and looking out for insurgents, become emotionally-charged, tense moments that make the spine tingle. And where would this film be without the criminally overlooked score for Marco Beltrami? There is some lusciously effective sound design in this movie and it works to prolong the tension and amplify the payoffs, but Beltrami's score explores a mixture of themes and motifs, from the more dynamic expressions of war to the softer, more emotional effects of the battle. It's a beautiful score that I still listen to almost ten years later.

Perhaps the most pertinent view on the value of art is the Romantic belief that art becomes more meaningful through expression – whether this be attitude, character and, for the most part, emotion. The more powerful pieces of cinema tend to elicit strong emotional responses through an appeal to the more evocative states of being, which is achieved through adherence to a strong script, powerful acting, and tactical directing. In surely one – if not the – frontrunners of 2016, Manchester by the Sea combines all three of these to create a poignant commentary on grief and the aftermath it leaves in its wake. To accurately depict the effects of this difficult emotion and to draw sympathy, understanding and attachment to the broken characters within the plot is the mark of a brilliant piece of art and it is in this respect that Manchester by the Sea is almost faultless. That being said, you need to be in a certain mood for this film. It is an emotional and sometimes difficult watch in what is writer-director’s Kenneth Lonergan’s third and finest entry, after You Can Count on Me [2000] and Margaret [2011]. In keeping with his thematic focus on the effects and difficult strains of life, he has perfected the art of drawing a strong response from the audience. It was this rawness of experience -which is entirely anti-Hollywood in sentiment – that left such a last impression. This is a film to observe acting at its finest and in its deepest form. Michelle Williams [Randi Chandler] showcases her range of acting skills and it is a shame her Oscar nomination did not materialise in to a win – you would think that her performance in one particularly heart wrenching scene near the end would almost be enough merit to give it to her. Lucas Hedges [Patrick Chandler] also stars as an up-and-coming talent capable of a strong performance alongside a Hollywood heavyweight. This is surely what Casey Affleck has now become after Manchester by the Sea. Whilst controversial, Affleck’s Oscar could not be more richly deserved in his portrayal of a struggling handyman called Lee Chandler. The story begins with him and immediately we are presented a sense of the character’s self-inflicted agonist tendencies as he rejects the advances of several women in the opening scenes to choose the punishment of a drunken fight. Struggling to coexist with a harrowed past – which is revealed through a series of flashbacks throughout the film – it is a credit to the acting ability to be able to convey such a convincing sense of depression with the lacklustre commitment to dialogue the character gives. Shuffling, sighing and appearing almost robotic, it is clear that Chandler is broken and incapable of a life in the place that reminds him so much of his grief. Returning to Manchester following the death of his brother, played by Kyle Chandler, Lee is presented with the unwanted adoption of his nephew, played by Hedges. In this character, Lonergan shows the reliance on those around you in times of grief – Patrick is presented as strong and able to deal with the loss of his father until left alone and unable to go visit one of his girlfriends. This is contrasted to Lee whom actively shies away from others and company, perhaps as a form of punishment. He rejects the opportunity of relationships throughout the movie, including an attempt of a re-connection from Randi, admitting to Patrick at the end that he cannot beat the grief. The value of Manchester by the Sea is surely in its expose on life and grief itself, which is inherently complex and idiomatic. It goes against the grain of typical cinema and it is thanks to the powerful performances by the cast and Lonergan’s script that makes this such a must see film.

"The Royal Hotel"     Americans Hanna (Julia Garner), and Liv (Jessica Henwick), are best friends backpacking in Australia. After they run out of money, Liv, looking for an adventure, convinces Hanna to take a temporary live-in job behind the bar of a pub called ’The Royal Hotel’ in a remote Outback mining town. Bar owner Billy and a host of locals give the girls a riotous introduction to Down Under drinking culture but soon Hanna and Liv find themselves trapped in an unnerving situation that grows rapidly out of their control.   The film is inspired by the feature documentary 'Hotel Coolgardie'. It's the story of two young Scandinavian women trapped in an Australian mining town. This clash of cultures feels like a way into a broader discussion about drinking culture and gender dynamics. There’s a part of us that understands that pub world and a part of us that's terrified by it. "The Royal Hotel" feels like an opportunity to do that by putting the two lead characters into a remote community, exploring how these two women navigate an unfamiliar and antagonistic environment, far removed from the urban existence they're used to. "The Royal Hotel" explores Hanna and Liv's experiences within the intense and volatile setting they find themselves in, while also delving into the underlying factors that contribute to its hostility. Hanna doesn't want to be there in the first place and she's feeling vulnerable most of the time, while Liv is more inclined to say ‘lighten up, it's not that bad…it’s just the culture'. With these two characters the film shows the subtleties in the way that women respond in these kinds of circumstances. The film wants to tell this outback story, through a female gaze, to turn the tables on a genre that's traditionally been very male, and to use the masculinity of that world as the fuel for the story, and to be able to examine some of the complications around male culture, but it feels reductive.   The central dramatic question of this film is not will they get out? It’s ‘should they?’ It's a much more subtle question, because it goes to the heart of this very masculine culture and what's unacceptable within that culture. It's a film that builds slowly and inexorably to the question of should they leave. It's about the way people respond to trauma. There's one way where you can be very on high alert, very fearful, or the other way, where you just dive in and drink it all away. The ending is a provocation. It generates conversation around what's acceptable within our culture and when we should stand up for ourselves and take a stand. And it’s a situation that's all too common for young women going into environments where they've little power; where they can start doubting whether their version of reality is the real version and start being co-opted into a culture that is making them feel like they're the ones who are crazy.   "The Royal Hotel" is set in a mining town and not a farming community so we were quite specific about what the landscape should look like. Mining towns are set up to support industry and are mostly filled with fly-in fly-out workers from interstate. The film wants the set to feel normal and inviting in the way that pubs quite often do, but it feels cold or menacing. This place is a threat. While the film has nods to thriller and Western genres, it cannot be readily characterised as a genre piece. Certainly, it's like a nightmare and at times we're almost verging towards horror, but you can not describe this as a genre film. The trick of it and the balancing act within it's that you're observing real behaviours, but you're coming at it from a particular perspective and by ramping up certain key moments you're heightening tensions within it.   Written by Gregory Mann

(Dog' showtimes in London Today 23 FEB Cineworld Leicester Square, 5-6 Leicester Square, 12:50 15:20 17:50 20:20 Vue Cinemas - West End 3 Cranbourn Street, Leicester Square, 14:45 17:30 19:00 ODEON Luxe Haymarket, 11/18 Panton Street 15:30 18:00 20:30 Vue Cinemas - Piccadilly (Apollo), 19 Lower Regent Street, 15:15 18:00 Everyman King's Cross, Handyside Street, 11:15 18:15) https://we-love-cinema.com/movies/59945-dog/ "Dog" "Dog" is a buddy comedy that follows the misadventures of two former Army Rangers paired against their will on the road trip of a lifetime. Army Ranger Jackson Briggs (Channing Tatum) and Lulu (a Belgian Malinois dog) buckle into a 1984 Ford Bronco and race down the Pacific Coast in hopes of making it to a fellow soldier's funeral on time. Along the way, they II drive each other completely crazy, break a small handful of laws, narrowly evade death, and learn to let down their guards in order to have a fighting chance of finding happiness. "Dog" is about a road trip that a guy takes with a dog. But more than all of that, it's a movie about the uncanny ability of road trips to go awry in the craziest possible ways and how animals can be healing, even when relationships with them aren't unconditionally effortless. So perhaps, it's that easy to describe it, a road trip that a guy takes with a dog, in the end, they rescue each other. This dog in particular, an anxious, boisterous Belgian Malinois named Lulu. Lulu is the main character in the film. Lulu is a war hero, who worked with her handler Riley Rodriguez (Eric Urbiztando), who served in the Army Rangers with Jackson Briggs for many years. But for a road trip movie to have the perfect tinge of Americana, you first need the perfect car. A sleek, vintage, blue ’84 Bronco to hit the highways. Sadly, Rodriguez has passed, and it's up to Briggs to pack this dog into his ’84 Bronco and drive her down the Pacific Coast to Rodriguez's family in time for the funeral in Arizona. Briggs, however, has no interest in this trip, after a traumatic brain injury, his interest lies in getting back to active duty. The only way to make that happen? To do his C.O. a solid and get Lulu to the funeral on time. Driving a dog to a destination? How hard can it be? Pretty difficult, it turns out. No road trip movie is fun without antics, have you ever taken a road trip with no antics? It's impossible. Malinois, they love to tear stuff apart, and we've a sequence where the dog escaped from her cage and she's destroying the insides of the car. She chews up the seats. So, needless to say, it's his worst nightmare that this dog just treats it with utter disrespect. A car has always got to get destroyed on the road. It's not a road trip if it's not. "Dog" certainly lives by this adage. But along the way Briggs and Lulu bond in an unexpected way, even through adventures with ornery pot growers, a car break-in, and a luxury hotel con. Lulu needs a comfortable bed, so says a pet psychic they meet on the road. Needless to say, Lulu and Briggs both bring a lot of emotional baggage on this trip. Lulu also comes with an owner's manual, which is something most people in the military actually create. They can range from a simple book of all their military paperwork to a beautifully designed scrapbook, filled with mementos. For Lulu, this was a book full of letters written by Rodriguez to her and DVDs that calm her anxiety down. Though Briggs mocks it at first, he grows to embrace its highlights getting to know Lulu through Rodriguez's eyes. Along the way they encounter outlandish characters who not only bring comic relief to Briggs's mission, but teach him about trauma, healing, and bonding. Meeting a lot of eccentric people. Mean locals. Why are the locals so mean? You're bringing them business. South Park did something good with theis cliche. We don't care much for your kind round here. Gus (Kevin Nash) and Tamara (Jane Adams) are cannabis farmers who create some real drama for Briggs. While Gus initially mistakes Briggs for an interloper, Briggs ultimately befriends the couple. What makes a good road-trip movie. The roots of the genre go back to classical literature such as “The Odyssey” and “Don Quixote". In case you don't know, a road movie is a film genre in which the main characters leave home to travel from place to place, typically altering the perspective from their everyday lives. What are some common elements in the genre you can think of that are done to death or are just plain cheesy and annoying? The story for "Dog" is initially inspired by the documentary 'War Dog: A Soldier's Best Friend' (HBO, 2017). The Rangers do very specialized things, so they've these walls up, but a dog can come in to the room and turn hardened soldiers into these puppy dog sort of loving guys. Belgian Malinois are also known as Dutch Shepherds, and most people associate them with military, Secret Service or Navy SEALS. Road movies are our favorite kinds of movies..They make you feel something and expose you to new ideas and places and wild characters. Casting a movie is never an easy task, but how do you audition for a co-star when it's a four-legged friend? For "Dog", that means working with three dogs, Britta, Zuza and Lana. The three dogs are wonderful, like really great acting. And watching them act is magical for everyone. There's a certain irony in bonding with an animal just so you can both act like you're not bonded. In dog movies, typically the way you see an animal is in an insert shot. There's a trainer right off camera doing something so the dog does a specific behavior and then you cut back to the action. Characters are on a quest for something or someone and what happens, is that they discover themselves along the way. The idea of a road trip is to expand your consciousness. The road picture is like that, going from place to place, meeting all sorts of people. It’s a cliche, it’s about the journey, not the destination. There's nothing new under the sun. It's a completely different world, but at the same time, feels very natural, because it's very military in the way it's chaotic but everyone seems to know what they're doing. The movie wants to capture the personality and the spirit of the Rangers and their dogs as well. Don't worry about tropes and clichés. You need to have the cliches that define road movies in the script, otherwise it wouldn't really be a road movie. And that's the guiding spirit of the movie. Written by Gregory Mann Personal Note: This winter, homebound with writing deadlines, I watched “Paris, Texas” again. This time, undistracted by the road, I turned my focus to the narrative and the characters. At the end, I wept. .

(Release Info UK schedule; January 17th, 2020, Glasgow Film Theatre, 12 Rose Street, Glasgow, G3 6RB, 13:30 19:30) https://film.list.co.uk/listing/1447804-a-hidden-life "A Hidden Life" Based on real events, "A Hidden Life" is the story of an unsung hero, Franz Jägerstätter (August Diehl), who refused to fight for 'The Nazis' in 'World War II'. When the Austrian peasant farmer is faced with the threat of execution for treason, it's his unwavering faith and his love for his wife Franziska (Valerie Pachner) and children that keep his spirit alive. "A Hidden Life" is based on the true story of Franz Jägerstätter, an Austrian peasant farmer, who refused to take the oath of allegiance to Hitler during 'World War II', sacrificing everything, including his life, rather than to fight for 'The Nazis'. Born and raised in the village of 'St. Radegund', Jägerstätter is farming his land when war breaks out. Married to Franziska, the couple are very much in love and involved with the tight-knit community. They live a simple life in the fertile valleys and mountains of upper Austria, with the passing years marked by the arrival of the couple’s three girls Maria (Sarah Born), Rosalia (Karin Neuhäuser) and Aloisa (Franziska Lang). When Franz is called up to basic training, a requirement for all Austrian men, he's away from his beloved wife and children for months. Eventually, when France surrenders and it seems the war might end soon, he's sent back home. His mother and sister-in-law Resie (Maria Simon) come to live with them, and for a while things seem to go on as normal. Instead of retreating, the war escalates, and Franz and the other men in the village are called up to fight. The first requirement of a new soldier is to swear an oath of allegiance to Adolf Hitler and 'The German State'. Despite pleas from his neighbors, fellow soldiers and commanding officers, Franz refuses the oath; objecting to Hitler and 'The Nazi Regime'. With his quiet act of resistance he asks the question, if leaders are evil, what does one do? With a sense of personal responsibility and the inability to do what he believes is wrong. Meanwhile Franziska is left to deal with the aftermath of his decision. Not only is she now the caretaker of the family’s farm as well as her three young daughters, she's iostracized from her community. Fear of Hitler forces once kindly neighbors to turn their backs on 'The Jägerstätter Family'. Wrestling with the knowledge that his decision would mean arrest and likely death, Franz finds strength in Franziska's love and support. He's imprisoned, first in Enns, then in Berlin; and waits months for trial. During his time in prison, he and Franziska write letters to one another and give each other strength. After months of incarceration, the case goes to trial. Franz is found guilty and sentenced to death. While Franz’s faith drives him to resist taking the oath to Hitler, representatives from religious, civic, government and military institutions plead with him to disavow his beliefs and swear his allegiance, even if he's disingenuous, in order to save his life. Franz continues to stand up for his beliefs and is executed by 'The German State' in August 1943. His wife and three daughters survive. The relationship between Franz and his wife Franziska endures. The film portrays their bond as deeply as Franz’s devotion to his cause. At every turn Franziska is there for Franz; strong, unfaltering and supportive of his path while raising their daughters and running the farm alone, eventually with help from her mother-in-law and sister. Franz Jägerstätter is born on May 20th, 1907, in the Austrian village of 'St. Radegund'. His mother is an unmarried farm servant, Rosalia Huber (Jasmin Mairhofer). His father died in 'The First World War'. Franz’s formal education is slight and brief. From 1913 to 1921 he attends the one-room school in 'St. Radegund', where a single teacher taught seven grades. At a given time, there are about fifty to sixty children in all. But one sees from his writing that he's a quick learner with a well-organized and independent mind. Franz’s birthplace is as inauspicious as his education. The village of 'St. Radegund', on the 'River Salzach , is on the northwestern edge of Austria. The village, with a population of about five hundred, appears only on the most detailed maps of Austria. Mozart’s 'Salzburg" is to the south, 'Linz' to the east, 'Vienna' much further east. The closest major German city is 'Munich'. Hitler’s birthplace, the Austrian town of 'Braunau', isn’t far from 'St. Radegund'. Franz grows up mainly among farmers. 'The Jägerstätter' farm is one among many in the area. It's a region in which 'Catholicism' is deeply embedded. The idea of not being 'Catholic' is, for nearly everyone Franz knows, as unthinkable as moving to another planet, though he has a cousin who becomes a 'Jehovah’s Witness'. One reads in the accounts of saints lives how pious some of them are from the cradle to the grave. The stories local people tell of Franz as a young man go in the opposite direction. In his teens he isn't hesitant to get involved in fistfights. He enjoys all the pastimes that his friends enjoyed. Along with all his neighbors, he goes to church when everyone else did, but no one would have remarked on his being a saint in the making. In 1930, at age twenty-three, Franz works for a time in the Austrian mining town of 'Eisenerz'. Returning to 'St. Radegund', Franz surprises his family and neighbors by arriving on a motorcycle he has purchased with money he earned in the city. No one else in the area has a motorcycle. The most important single factor attributed to bring about a change in Franz is his marriage to Franziska Schwaninger. Nearly everyone who lives in the area saw this as the main border-crossing event of his adult life. Franz is a different man afterward. Franziska is six years younger than Franz. She's very strong having been brought up in that area. She comes from a deeply religious family; her father and grandmother are both members of 'The Marian Congregation'. Her grandmother belonged to 'The Third Order Of St. Francis'. Before Franziska’s marriage, she has considered becoming a nun. After a short engagement, the two marries on April 9th, 1936. Franz is almost twenty-nine, Franziska twenty-three. It's a happy marriage. In one of his letters to Franziska during his period of army training in 1940, he mentions how fortunate and harmonious have been their years of marriage. Years after her father’s death, 'The Jägerstätter’s' eldest daughter, wondering aloud whether she would ever marry, recalls her mother warning her that married couples often fight. They've three children, all daughters; Rosalia in 1937, Maria in 1938, and Aloisia in 1940. There's not a marriage out of touch with the world beyond their farm. Franz and Franziska are attentive to what's going on just across the river from 'St. Radegund' in Germany. On March 12th, 1938, 'The Eighth Army' of 'The German State' crosses 'The German-Austrian' border. Assisted by 'The Local Nazi' movement and supported by the vast majority of the Austrian population, German troops quickly take control of Austria then organized a national plebiscite on April 10th to confirm the union with Germany. With few daring to vote against what have already been imposed by military methods, 'The Annexation' of Austria by Germany was even ratified by popular ballot. Austria, now an integral part of 'Nazi-Germany', ceased to exist as an independent state. Well before 'The Annexation', Franz has been an 'Anti-Nazi', but the event that brought his aversion to a much deeper level is a remarkable dream he has in January 1938. Perhaps it's triggered by a newspaper article he has read a few days earlier reporting that 150,000 more young people have been accepted into 'The Hitler Youth Movement'. In his dream he sees a wonderful train coming around a mountain. This train is going to hell. The train, he realizes, symbolized the glittering 'Nazi Regime' with all it's spectacles and it's associated organizations, 'Hitler Youth' being one of the most important and spiritual corrupting. In 'St. Radegund' it's widely known that Franz, ignoring the advice of his neighbors, has voted against 'The Annexation', but, in the reporting of the new regime in Vienna, Franz’s solitary vote was left unrecorded. It's seen as endangering the village to put on record that even one person has dared raise a discordant voice. After all, as Franz is painfully aware, even Austria’s 'Catholic' hierarchy had advocated a yes vote. Afterward 'Cardinal' Innitzer (Thomas Prenn), principal hierarch of 'The Catholic Church' in Austria, signed a declaration endorsing 'The Annexation'. Having become citizens of Germany, every able Austrian is subject to conscription. Franz is called up in June 1940, taking his military vow in 'Braunau', Hitler’s birthplace, but a few days later he returns to his farm, as farmers are needed no less than soldiers. Franz realizes that a return to the army is not possible for him. Even at the cost of his life, he would have to say no. Franz readily talked about his views with anyone who would listen. Most often he's told that his main responsibility is to his family and that it would be better to risk death in the army on their behalf than to take steps that would almost certainly guarantee his death. While he would certainly do what he could to preserve his life for the sake of his family, Franz notes that self-preservation did not make it permissible to go and murder other people’s families. He points out that to accept military service also means leaving his family without any assurance he would return alive. Franz even managed to meet with the bishop of Linz, Joseph Fliesser (Michael Nyqvist). Franziska is in the adjacent waiting room. When Franz comes out of the bishop’s consulting room, Franziska recalls that he's very sad. They don’t dare commit themselves or it will be their turn next. Having gone through his training, nearly two years went by without Franz’s receiving a summons to return to the army. Throughout that period, each time mail is delivered to 'The Jägerstätter' farm, both husband and wife are in dread. Finally on February 23rd, 1943, the fateful letter arrived. Franz is ordered to report to a military base in 'Enns', near 'Linz', two days later. At the station in 'Tittmoning', Franz and Franziska could not let go of each other until the train’s movement forced them out to separate. Franz is already two days late for his appointment at 'Enns'. The following day Franz is placed under arrest and transported to the military remand prison in nearby Linz. No one knows better than Franziska how carefully thought out is the position Franz is taking. Even so, it's impossible for her not to encourage him occasionally to search for some alternate path that might not violate his conscience but perhaps would save his life. In the army base at 'Enns' people traps him by means of trick questions and so as to make him once again into a soldier. It's not easy to keep his conviction. It may become even more difficult. Without warning, on May 4th, 1943, Franz is taken by train to the prison at 'Tegel', a suburb of 'Berlin'. Here Franz would spend the last three months of his life in solitary confinement. On July 6th, 1943, a brief trial occurred. Franz is convicted of 'undermining military morale' by inciting the refusal to perform the required service in 'The German Army'. Franz is sentenced to death. On July 9th, 1943, Franz and Franziska have a last meeting. On July 14th, 1943, Franz’s death sentence is confirmed by 'The German State War Court'. During his time in 'Berlin', Franz was permitted to write only one letter to Franziska each month, plus a fourth that was written on the day of his execution. The four letters bear witness to his extraordinary calm, conviction, and even happiness. On August 9th, 1943, Franz is taken to Brandenburg where, at about 4:00 p.m., he's killed by guillotine. He dies with no expectation that his sacrifice would make any difference to anyone. He knows that, for his neighbors, the refusal of army service is incomprehensible, an act of folly, a sin against his family, his community, and even his church, which has called on no one to refuse military service. Franz knows that, beyond his family and community, his death would go entirely unnoticed and have no impact on 'The Nazi' movement or hasten the end of the war. He would soon be forgotten. Who would remember or care about 'The Anti-Nazi Gesture' of an uneducated farmer? He would be just one more filed-away name among many thousands who were tried and executed with bureaucratic indifference during 'The Nazi Era'. The film is set in 'St. Radegund' where the events depicted actually took place, including certain interiors of 'The Jägerstätter' house, which has over the years become a pilgrimage site, as well as by 'The Salzach' river near 'St. Radegund' and in the woods below the house. 'St. Radegund' is a small village of 500 people in 'Upper Austria', near Salzburg and 'The German Border', in the same province where Hitler was born and spent his early youth, not far from Berchtesgaden, his mountain retreat during his years as head of 'The German State'. The clock visible on the wall of 'The Jägerstätter' living room is the one that Franziska is listening to when, at four in the afternoon on August 9th, 1943, at the very hour of Franz’s execution, she remembered feeling her husband’s presence. The bedroom is theirs and looks as it did then. Her embroidery still hangs on the walls. Franz and Franziska’s three daughters, Maria, Rosalia and Aloisa live in, or near, 'St. Radegund'. The story plays in churches and cathedrals, farms with real livestock, orchards, up mountains, in fields and along rural pathways. Nature and the natural environment are part of the subtext and the locations provided us with a foundation to build up from. In addition to his work as a farmer, Franz Jägerstätter serves as a sexton at the local church. He cleanes, rang the bell, and prepared weddings and funerals; without compensation and in addition to his duties as a farmer. The family’s various pursuits required a wardrobe that reflects not just their interests but their economic status. There's always imagination with costumes. But in this case, the most important part is getting as close to the reality as possible. The historic background of the story requires modern buildings and signs of contemporary life. The film draws on actual letters exchanged between Franz and Franziska while Jägerstätter was in prison. The collection was edited by Erna Putz and published in English by 'Orbis Books'. Some lines have been added to the letters, and sometimes the letters are paraphrased. The story was little known outside of 'St. Radegund', and might never have been discovered, were it not for the research of Gordon Zahn, an American who visited the village in the 1970s. Franziska passed away in 2013, aged 100. Today, the fields around 'St. Radegund' are covered in corn, a crop that's not grown at the time, as well as with power lines and modern houses, some immediately adjacent to 'The Jägerstätter’s' own. "A Hidden Life" primarily uses natural light, turning to artificial illumination only on rare occasions. Changing lighting conditions requires a continuous attention for stop changes to ensure proper exposure. For all the other sets, including the prison cells, the film works with the sun, adjusting the schedule to the appropriate time of day. The film is shot digitally on 'The Red Epic Dragon' camera system. The camera is selected for it's ability to handle stark contrast within a scene, preserving details in both the highlights and shadows of the image, while still maintaining realistic color. The film focuses on the emotional journeys and crises of conscience of the characters, the music reflects their story. The solo violin throughout the film embodies the connection between the two main characters. It’s an extraordinary, enduring love story that investigates human reactions and motivations and just how far people will push for their beliefs and conscience. It asks hard questions; do you've the right to hurt people that you love in service of the greater good? Ultimately, it's a timeless story of devotion, love and forgiveness. People relied on each other, and at that time that also means that you could not break out and be different. You've to toe the line. For the growing good of the world is partly dependent on unhistoric acts; and that things are not so ill with you and me as they might have been is half owing to the number who lived faithfully a hidden life, and rest in the unvisited tombs.