By BRUCE DENNILL
Early Man / Directed by Nick Park / 10LPV
Thank You For Your Service / Directed by Jason Hall / 16LSV
The Exception / Directed by David Leveaux (16LNS)
Papillon / Directed by Michael Noer / 16DLNSV
Down A Dark Hall / Directed by Rodrigo Cortes / PG13
Nick Park’s work – Wallace and Gromit, Chicken Run and more – is all of a standard of craftsmanship, writing and layered humour that appeals to all generations and has the effect of making viewers feel warm and fuzzy as well as inspiring belly laughs. Early Man fits that formula, compensating for a very simple story – normal people are displaced by high-falutin’ invaders (read what you like into that; it could be a comment on the refugee crisis, a complaint about gentrification or a handful of other themes) – with sports-based action and laughs that transcends eras, being as universally appealing in prehistoric times as it is now. That the good guys are English and the bad guys are French adds an enjoyable echo of Monty Python skits with broadly similar ideas (hilarious accents and wrangled stereotypes among them). And for all of its relative lack of sophistication, the film will still make kids and adults laugh heartily at different times and for different reasons.
It’s telling that the poster art for Thank You For Your Service features nothing more dramatic than a portrait of Miles Teller as Adam Schumann, one of a trio of American soldiers who have returned from the Iraq war and struggling terribly to integrate into the society they left behind. There is no tagline from the studio and no earnest punt from an enthusiastic critic – just a soldier staring into the middle distance, his eyes suggesting something between emptiness and profound fatigue. That is the tone of the film as a whole, which is a character study of Schumann, Will (Joe Cole) and Solo (Beulah Koal), friends and colleagues who share post-traumatic stress and bewilderment regarding reconnecting with loved ones or claiming what they feel should be theirs as individuals who put their lives on the line for their country. To be clear, all they’re after is fair treatment and medical and emotional support, and it is the tragedy of the true story on which the piece is based, and of war as a concept in general, that they never have those needs met. It’s contemplative stuff; a strong statement against both the mindset that war is a way of solving anything and that the supposed greater good is necessarily more important than caring for individuals.
As World War II kicked off, Kaiser Wilhelm II (Christopher Plummer), still in exile after Germany’s defeat in World War I, was left on the periphery of his country’s power structures, allowed to live in comfort but with little influence in terms of leadership. Nevertheless, he was still a potentially important figurehead, and rumours of the infiltration of his home by a British Secret Service agent bring a young German officer (Jai Courtney) to investigate. He begins an affair with an attractive maid, which becomes hugely problematic when he discovers that she is Jewish. The Exception is a war film mostly in terms of its setting, both geographically and historically, with the acid fear that stories of Nazis and their ruthlessness being the main element of the conflict to come through. Otherwise, it more of a period romance that could have changed any number of details to tell a similar tale of tragic love. As such, it is beautifully made, with settings and costumes wonderfully detailed and the chemistry between its leads both convincing and confused, befitting of the complexity of the situation the characters found themselves in. And Plummer, as ever, is old-school presence and classiness personified.
Remakes are a dicey business. Like a cover version of a song, the best ones are totally re-interpreted, with something added that the original couldn’t or didn’t deliver. Steve McQueen and Dustin Hoffman did a wonderful job with the 1973 original of Papillon, and the book, which tells Henri “Papillon” Charrière’s epic tale of hardship and hope in the French penal colony of Devil’s Island, off the coast of French Guiana in South America, has sold steadily over all of that time. Michael Noer’s overhaul is well-made, looking good and hitting as hard emotionally as some of the prisoners and their warders do physically. But it doesn’t spark as anyone hoping for another Shawshank Redemption-style prison classic might hope. Charly Hunnam, as Charrière, continues on a career path that sees him taking old-fashioned leading man roles in an industry where his looks and physique might accelerate his success if he chose to instead focus on fluffier, more mainstream material. As Charrière’s scheming co-prisoner Louis Dega, Rami Malek includes perhaps a touch to much melodrama, which can’t be associated with his flamboyant take on Freddie Mercury in Bohemian Rhapsody, as that film came out a month after this one. A couple of hours well spent, but you probably won’t revisit this piece.
There is a good amount of potential in this adaptation of a popular young adult novel. But early on, the story – about gifted but challenging youngsters who need unique management to make the most of their phenomenal talents – gets mired in stereotyped tropes, to a degree that makes Down A Dark Hall look badly made, regardless of what might or might not be communicated to viewers via the storyline. The dark hall of the title might refer to any of the corridors in the sinister Blackwood Boarding School, a building featuring gloomy sanitorium-chic architecture and lighting that telegraphs repeated jump-scares – which inevitably arrive. The school is run by an eccentric headmistress (another cliché) played by Uma Thurman in such scenery-chewing mode that it’s a wonder you can hear her speak with her mouth full. For a film with themes that so strongly suggest at least suspense, if not horror, it shouldn’t be possible to literally lose interest in what’s going on halfway through.