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Mother and Child

Column: The Word on Films  |  Date Published: Friday, 18 June 10   |  Author: Mark Russell   |     |  1 year, 7 months ago
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Mother and Child will cut you raw and scrape your soul; in an impressive sort of way.

Though writer/director Rodrigo Garcia may have a shortish resume, he’s attracted some heavyweight staffers to this heavyweight dissection of motherhood. The film focuses on the lives of three women and the relationships they have with children. Karen (Annette Benning) is an emotional wreck after giving up her daughter for adoption 37 years earlier. Said daughter Elizabeth (Naomi Watts) is similarly reeling from the abandonment. While in another part of town, Lucy (Kerry Washington) and her husband Joseph are going through adoption proceedings themselves.

It’s easy to see why much of the marketing of this film has focused on Babel director Alejandro González Iñárritu’s involvement as producer. It has the same intense emotional tapestry woven through his other work. There are endless great performances in the gruelling two hours. Watts and Benning are revelations, giving us characters almost previously unseen in Hollywood. Unfortunately, Washington can’t quite match them but gives it an admirable attempt. The men also keep up their end – Jimmy Smits maintains a gentle stoicism and Samuel L Jackson is surprisingly downplayed.

In truth, a female director may have added a little more subtlety to some key scenes, and it takes a little while to get used to the theatrical, characters-saying-what-they-feel style of dialogue; but it’s a very strong emotional cinematic experience. The slow, depressive mood sinks and swirls us lower; offering only rare, though poignant, moments of gentle brevity.

This is an intense and powerful piece of cinema, though avoid the spoiler-heavy preview at all costs.

4 ½ stars



The Losers:

The latest cab off the graphic novel adaptation rank is the story of a group of wise-cracking CIA black-ops soldiers, who’ve gone rogue after a mysterious bad guy spook, Max (Jason Patric), tries to kill them. The Losers get their chance to get madly even when mysterious badass chick Aisha (Zoe Saldana) shows up with the intelligence needed to track Max.

The Losers is a slick, fun and action-packed ride down a buttered-popcorn slide. The action set-pieces are inventive and extreme, and have a brilliant tongue-in-cheek tone that’s furthered in the dialogue. It’s got all you could ask for. Saldana is hot.  Lead loser Clay (Jeffrey Dean Morgan) is wry where he needs to be, tough where he doesn’t. The other losers are various shades of funny or cool. The whole thing’s shot like MTV on coke. And even the baddie has a few scene-stealing moments.

As would be expected, it occasionally relies a little too heavily on cliché. The slow-motion struts with fireball backgrounds start to come a little too regularly and everyone’s just that little bit too good. Later scenes also lose their bit a little due to some awkward pacing choices and unnecessarily obvious plot-holes. But this is Jesse James, not Henry James.

The Losers is an action film with just that little bit extra. Come in, sit down, switch off and bring snacks.

3 ½ out of 5

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Sex and the City 2:

I loved Sex and the City but this is not the show that I enjoyed back in the day. This is like National Lampoon’s Sexy Middle Eastern Vacation – way too much farce, totally ridiculous scenarios, and everything in it feels vaguely offensive and far too obvious.

Everyone knows these four by now ­– Carrie (Sarah Jessica Parker), Miranda (Cynthia Nixon), Samantha (Kim Cattrall) and Charlotte (Kristin Davis). They swan around New York and talk sex, cosmos, life and love. Or at least, they used to.

There is so much blinding showiness in Sex and the City 2 that it’s hard to look past it to the issues that we’re supposed to be deeply pondering – marriage and commitment and such. Everything is so over the top and gimmicky (Liza singing Beyonce anyone?) that any real and touching moments are buried under a giant dumping of fake diamonds and Abu Dhabi sand. Pretty much the whole film feels forced – the laughter feels fake, the fashion isn’t so much fabulous as crack-induced and obvious, and to be frank I just wanted to bitch slap Carrie (who at one point sports a truly Maleficent headdress).

In addition, someone should really tell director/writer/producer Michael Patrick King that “humour” does not mean “turn every single word into a thoroughly lame pun.” Also, slow-motion breast and crotch close-ups quite blatantly scream “desperate gratuity,” and are very tiresome.

Overall, the sexiness was lacking, and so was the enjoyment. And hell, that’s coming from someone that liked He’s Just Not That Into You.

1 ½ out of 5

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