Showing posts with label Edwardian. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Edwardian. Show all posts

05 October 2026

Death Defying Acts Video Review


Kristin Battestella chats about the 2007 film Death Defying Acts and it's problematic behind the scenes meddling that hurts the onscreen results of what should be an enchanting Edwardian movie with Guy Pearce and Catherine Zeta-Jones. 



Thank you for Watching! 


You can follow the latest in my ongoing Guy Pearce Career Re-Watch on Blue Sky with the new #PearceofMind hashtag. I've done so many reviews, rankings, essays, podcasts, and videos in this Pearce oeuvre assessment that it's easier to brand under one name. My DMs are open on Blue Sky if you wish to collaborate! Look for more content coming soon or browse past Pearce including: 


Neighbours 1985-89

Jack Irish

Women InSession: Underrated Guy Pearce Picks

Pearce of Mind Video Playlist



21 January 2019

Charming Interwar Entertainment



Charming Interwar Entertainment
by Kristin Battestella



Despite the turbulent times before and after, these films and television series set in the twenties and thirties are brimming with charming wit – mostly. 

 

The Grand Budapest Hotel – Snowy, bleak cemeteries contrast the orange mid century accents and picturesque postcard designs of this 2014 quirky comedy from director Wes Anderson (The Royal Tenenbaums). While the visuals are aesthetically pleasing; the books, voiceover jokes, timeline transitions, and Jude Law's (Captain Marvel) detailing of the kitschy, dilapidated hotel's off season are a lot to digest amid dialogue within the internal monologue, rapid newspaper headlines, zany zooms, action pans, elevator doors parting, camera ups and downs, and in and out of focus views. Fortunately, the busy exposition gives way to calm and curious introductions – our hotelier F. Murray Abraham (Amadeus) nestles in the baths of this enchanted old ruin as we follow the inter title style chapter cards back to a grandiose thirties heyday. Choice reds, lush purple, vintage cars, trains, delightful architecture, and golden chandeliers set the period lavish while tight camera angles convey the cramped servant areas and sweeping pans reflect the patron's splendor. Tom Wilkinson (Essex Boys), Jeff Goldbum (Independence Day), Saoirse Ronan (Byzantium), Edward Norton (Red Dragon), Lea Seydoux (Spectre), Adrien Brody (The Jacket), Willem Dafoe (Shadow of the Vampire), Harvey Keitel (National Treasure), Owen Wilson (Midnight in Paris), Bill Murray (Little Shop of Horrors), a dynamite in the sack old lady Tilda Swinton (Only Lovers Left Alive), and more star power cameos, however, make for a vignette feeling as viewers wonder which part of the story is the story and not just another scene change. Thankfully, such hotel hustle and bustle fits the nostalgic whirlwind, and swift “Are you fucking nuts?” asides pepper the rose colored glasses framework as our lobby boy learns the ropes from Ralph Fiennes' (The English Patient) sermon giving, tight ship running, serving all the rich blondes concierge. Modern sarcasm lifts the who's swindling whom heists, and the best zingers come in the one on one, smooth talker tongue in cheek. We're invested in the interplay farce but take nothing at face value, reading between the lines of the embellished court case, recountings to the camera, and butler did it gags. Conspiracies and suspects mount, however the loyalty and button up routine of the jailhouse isn't that different from the formality of the grand hotel. In fact, impoverished origins and unusual circumstances unite these quirky gents when the players themselves admit the thickening plot confuses them. Shocking heads in a basket and a larger than life scale keep the murder and suspense stylish while cable car graphics and cats tossed out the window picked up at the coat check add to the bemusing hotel prayer chain. Genuine characters and core friendships sustain the increasingly preposterous on the run adventure – speed walking chases, monastery disguises, second copies of the second will, shootouts, and macguffins create a knowing cumulative amid outlandish travels, whimsical ski jumps, and silly poetics straying into the fantastic. At times, this is quite pretentious and overly clever, doing too much when the casting winks and lavish production handle the complexity without any extra need to be high brow for the sake of it. Some outwitting and double crossings are confusing, and the redundant, intentionally unreliable narration builds toward a bitter, black and white montage that feels abrupt and unfair compared to the preceding yarn. Fortunately, a fuzzy frame within a frame game of telephone wraps the past grandeur almost in fiction – a long gone embellished splendor made up by an old hotel proprietor and compounded by a wayward writer. Although one needs to appreciate old movies and what this film is trying to do to enjoy its wit, this is an entertaining, intelligent piece with a careful, award winning attention to detail that takes more than one viewing.



Mapp and Lucia – Prunella Scales (Fawlty Towers), Geraldine McEwan (Marple), and Nigel Hawthorne (Richard III) lead this charming 1985 coastal comedy based on the books by E.F. Benson accented by English gardens, pleasant melodies, and jolly good formalities flummoxed by over the hedge gossip. Foreign metaphors, “Au Reservoir,” and fake Italian make one sound fancy while seething sighs, squinting “dear” objections, and frienemy let's do lunch fakery punctuate arguments over everything from who gets to play Elizabeth I in the local play to who's servants are courting who else's servants. Nobody says what they mean thanks to the stiff upper lip tone and attempted continental refinement, yet the over the top gentility provides backhanded zingers to match all the haughty decorum, period stylings, and fur coats worn in the summer. A quaint local artist paints scandalous nude portraits and content domestic evenings full of piano duets replace sexual acts. Oh, such harmony when they finish together! Some taboos can be chuckled over at tea time yet others ruffle the snobbish feathers one and all as vain high society facades parallel the subtle gender bending innuendo. Everyone lives to push someone else's buttons – back then one had to make her own entertainment with country drives in classic cars, telegrams to famous friends, or rival parties and art exhibitions scheduled at the same time. Despite unannounced pop ins, overcharging for a broken piano, faking influenza to get out of a concert, and real estate low balling; the love to hate, doing dirty ladies remain bemusing and likable characters without any venomous soap opera nasty to the secret lobster recipes, exposés, and just deserts. Who's eating the produce from who's garden tiffs rage over bridge in “they know that we know that they know that we know” suspicions that can't be proven until one climbs the church tower to spy. Townsfolk take sides over pearl clutching shocks and sordid tales of the sea as the stock market bound women whip the embroidering men into shape by coloring the gray in a beard and serving giant cups of sobering tea. Intercut policy debates in the street and servants gossiping at the beach lead to gas line mishaps and delusions of Roman ruins bested by veiled pregnancy scandals. The vitriol remains scrumptious in spite of the selfish church organ dedications, ulterior hospital ward donations, and manipulated local politicians as our rich snobs insist on making this pastoral little seaside town's society page all about them. The eponymous ladies welcome every opportunity to help the needy in the most self serving ways possible, and their attempts to look good always leave egg on the other's face. Marriages of convenience understood to have separate bedrooms and no caresses feign to be simple unions when the couple really seeks the spectacle of the year on top of carefully orchestrated mayoress achievements and making the bicycle all the rage. The poor chauffeurs would be out of work if they weren't needed to run behind the peddling ladies, a dead pet bird sat on is reused as the feather in one's cap – literally – and a true opera diva and a real drunken duchess deliciously put our tiny village big fishes in their place. Although these ten episodes are a little long at fifty minutes, the ongoing comeuppance arcs are staggered over the time and thus easy to marathon– half of one tale leads into the next episode rather than the expected, typical one plot sitcom. Those of a certain age can certainly enjoy the dulcet period piece snobbery and the snappy, pip pip cheerio camp rhythms here.



For the Kids Perhaps


Tutankhamun – Lord Carnarvon Sam Neill (The Tudors) hires Max Irons' (yes, Jeremy's son) Egyptologist Howard Carter to dig for undiscovered tombs in this 2016 miniseries from ITV opening with turn of the century desert rocks and orange haze in the Valley of the Kings. When one has enough money, you can buy the past regardless of proper papers and techniques, and the sophisticated parasols, entitled rich, upscale parties, and vintage cars contrast the tents, lanterns, dust, and pottery. Despite the atmospheric spectacles, books, maps, sketches, and parchments; the story restarts several times with introductions, historical figures, and obvious scene setting CGI. Fortunately, there's an enthusiasm over the possibility of unplundered tombs – innocent questions on seemingly deliberately desecrated relics and Amarna and Luxor references to the heretic Akhenaten and his obscure pharaoh son Tutankhamun. Archaeologists put the puzzle together without over-explaining or trite monologues, but the deductions and withered ruins must wait as The Great War interferes – leading to local resentment, plundered digs, and years of no luck in the Valley. Withdrawn funding and arguments about searching on a whim, however, finally lead to uncovered steps, tunnels, sealed walls, and hieroglyphics. By 1922 the golden splendor, jewels, and “wonderful things” in the antechamber begat flashbulbs, new tools, and dark rooms in nearby tombs as stunning artifacts are photographed and cataloged. Crowds full of a new post-war hope arrive amid gunfire, mobs, and exclusive newspaper backlashes with stories of theft and ancient curses. Our archaeologists fight humidity and fresh air with wax preservation but technicalities arise between these British finders and the Egyptian Antiquities Service. Local authorities wanting to keep their royal artifacts at home are unfortunately made the villain against the young and lovelorn Carter – who was really a crusty middle aged man more concerned with what his find meant to the world. Further unnecessary liberties are taken with love triangles and grossly inaccurate fluff padding the series alongside juvenile acting and supporting ethnic characters' deaths used for white man angst. Contrived rifts and blood poisoning drama become uneven in the final hour compared to the wondrous opening of the titular burial chamber. It's the moment we've all been waiting for but early film reels and one telling another about the nested sarcophagi cheat on the historical achievements. Thanks to all the superfluous flirtations and overly romanticized aspects, important deaths and the famous golden mask reveal are glossed over in favor of sappy breakups, laughable portrayals, and annoying man tears. What should have been a two hour event film becomes an overlong yarn frustrating to any academic Egyptology obsessed audience. However, the inaccuracies here also lead one to read up on all the facts, and this may have some merit for youthful viewers new to archaeology looking for a fun adventure.


I Wanted to Like It but...


Death Defying Acts – Bubbles, boats, chains, and crowds at the docks counting down to the spectacle open this 2007 Houdini drama directed by Gillian Armstrong (Little Women) and starring Guy Pearce (Brimstone), Catherine Zeta-Jones (Chicago), Timothy Spall (Harry Potter), and Saoirse Ronan (Byzantium). Unfortunately, the CGI and special effects are terribly cheap and noticeable, as are the poor accents. An unnecessary, flowery narration telling viewers nothing intrudes on visuals that need no explanation with spoon fed confusion, and the entire disjointed opening with our sassy gals picking pockets and living by their wits could have been left on the cutting room floor. Colorful on stage cons and exotic mediums better set the scene alongside period fashions, vintage streets, suave cars, and theatre marquees – mother and daughter seeing the Houdini mania newsreel at the cinema is all the connection needed. Instead, we have a little girl telling us about Houdini's inner dark side when viewers could be watching on mute and see his pesky manager or our psychic lady studying the newspapers for clues on the illusionist. The adults debate the fakery, hocus pocus, and mumbo jumbo, questioning whether showbiz needs proof or science, and the mature conversations prove this juvenile anchor is an absolutely unnecessary character altogether. Let us see the hotel maid stunts, handcuff tricks, and upside down tanks for ourselves as the onscreen audience holds its collective breath. Visions of dead mothers, $10,000 offers for psychics who can contact the great beyond, and pushing the titular limits are story enough alongside a bemusing montage of those tap dancing for that reward – literally. Edwardian sophistication sets off the experiments on the existence of the afterlife, pop powder cameras, and letters locked in a safe so a psychic can reveal the contents. Champagne dinners, playing hard to get, steamy dream sequences, and romantic evening races lead to ruined abbeys, gargoyles, and roof top stunts. However, the time wasting, childish storyline continues to sag, sputtering the already obvious and hamfisted by keeping the smoke and mirrors at arms length with superficial trite and no emotional depth. Third wheel intrusions replace the audience's fly on the wall view and we never get to be in on the daredevil charm. Though watchable for fans of the cast, the stars here deserved a better script, less liberties taken, and the gosh darn proper point of view. This picture is told from the entirely wrong perspective!


20 February 2013

Downton Abbey Season 3



Downton Abbey Series 3 is Kind of a Hot Mess
By Kristin Battestella


It’s Spring 1920 and Lord and Lady Grantham (Hugh Bonneville and Elizabeth McGovern) welcome the Countess’ mother Martha Levinson (Shirley MacLaine) from America while the family awaits the birth of youngest daughter Sybil’s (Jessica Brown Findlay) baby with her political motivated Irish husband Tom Branson (Allen Leech) – formerly the Crawley’s chauffer. Family heir Matthew (Dan Stevens) and eldest daughter Mary (Michelle Dockery) support Branson’s new role at Downton Abbey as well as middle daughter Edith’s (Laura Carmichael) new writing career – even if the couple disagrees on how Matthew wants to handle the financially in disarray estate. Unfortunately, sorrow looms upstairs and scandal brews downstairs between valet Thomas (Rob James-Collier) and ladies’ maid O’Brien (Siobhan Finneran) as positions high and low are shaken to their core.

The Downton Abbey PBS premiere wastes no time in getting to the long awaited wedding of Mary and Matthew and Downton’s dangerous financial rumblings, but there are a lot of unlikable, on the nose developments to start Series 3. These rich people who can’t handle their money, the wrongfully imprisoned valet – it seems heavy but not much is actually happening. It’s all too dry, and the pacing this year is uneven, slow, even wasteful. Previously, it was almost blink and you miss World War I speed, but now, plots unnecessarily linger on unimportant soap opera moments. These internal timing issues become a serious problem when the meat of the drama feels skipped entirely. After almost a decade of onscreen waiting, the culmination of Downton Abbey’s biggest storyline is cut away at the altar. There’s almost enough wrong with Year 3 for me to not bother continuing. Thankfully, the downstairs character focus is much more pleasant – although the below storylines are also too uneven. Their goods struggle with mismatched upstairs plots across the middle episodes and become stretched too thin, and it all magically ends up tidy for the rushed cricket finale.  The so-called Christmas Special further puts everything under the carpet by being set a year post hence. In effect, this tacked on holiday makes it appear as thought the traumas of Year 3 never happened – they are fresh in the viewer’s mind, but long done for the characters onscreen. We zoom through the earlier seasons two or three years at a time, yet now we dawdle month to month per episode only to end up fast-forwarding again. You wouldn’t write a book with this kind of piss poor timing and skipped juicy – why is it okay on Downton Abbey?



Now, about that long awaited Mary and Matthew wedding. Matthew has really taken a serious downturn this season with all over the place character motivations and attitudes. How does this one supposedly golly shucks guy get the girl, come in to Downton’s entail, and get in line for another possible fortune? The bad dialogue between Mary and Matthew doesn’t help his unbelievability – more often then not I just want to skip over their WTF scenes. I’m surprised by the audience shock in his exit, as Dan Stevens really looked ready to depart Downton Abbey thanks to obvious foreshadowing and phoned-in scenes. Matthew is a bit better as the family go between for Branson – brothers- in-law sticking together!  Unfortunately, even that relationship is run into the ground by these uninteresting tenant subdivision saving Downton legalese library scenes. Naturally, it is Mary who really suffers thanks to this default, uneven, ham-fisted writing.  Once one who rallied against marrying for an heir, Mary the expectant bride and rushed mom falls completely flat in Series 3 – where is the mention of her Turk scandal? Bad jokes, supposedly tense financial talks, and guilt trip conversations won’t do for the players that were the cornerstone of Downton Abbey.  
           
Likewise, always on the verge of ruin Robert Crawley has become somewhat of a fool. He puts their fortune into a bad venture, cries over it, and gets more upset by what the county thinks about their business. Lord Grantham gives information on the estate to Mary, but objects to Matthew’s sweeping changes whilst also wanting his son-in-law to accept his new inheritance to save Downton. He claims they must keep the estate running for the community jobs, but if the nobles can’t handle the money, then maybe they shouldn’t have it!  The Earl gains points when he helps the folks downstairs, but that’s just as much about avoiding scandal as it is kindness. Countess Cora unfortunately takes a backseat for most of the season, but she is correct in making Robert accountable on all his bull and his asinine preference for nobility over honest doctoring. Of course, all their troubles are too easily resolved in one or two episodes, and the Christmas Special plays them as a darling couple against this out of left field Scottish cousin Shrimpie angst. Didn’t we just see these same marital troubles and financial ruins?


Thankfully, Dowager Countess Maggie Smith is again wonderful at holding onto the old school class and wit, and the sassy honesty of guest Shirley MacLaine is refreshing. Though she dresses jazzy and correctly calls the Granthams as shallow, Martha Levinson is not as over the top as I expected, and MacLaine might be playing herself in some of the shakeup for the sake of it. However, I wish we had more of her and Penelope Wilton’s formerly get your heads out of your butts Isobel Crawley.  Mrs. Crawley seems too detached from the main family thanks to her unspeakable work in helping prostitutes, but her sincere moments with the Dowager are very touching. Her scenes with David Robb’s Doctor Clarkson in the Christmas Special are also more appealing then the forced introduction of Lily James as young and wild Cousin Rose, and Samantha Bond deserves more as Lady Rosamund. Series 3 leaves so many better family relationships unexplored – these older statesmen reflecting on the past and the decade’s changes seems more interesting then these in your face or merry go round plots.

In fact, the Sybil and Branson storyline is better than the Mary and Matthew over the top mooneyes. Branson’s political views are certainly understandable, and this unwelcomed, raised up son-in-law is relevant and realistic. The hot bed class and culture issues create both honest problems and quality principles for the couple, and though difficult, Branson’s legitimate societal points make things like dressing for dinner seem unimportant. Not surprisingly, the family is flippant and rude to the couple, their high up friends are downright cruel, and the uneven season long writing ruins the good in Jessica Brown Findlay’s departure.  Her exit is stupidly handled onscreen, and it makes me wish there were just episodic upstairs events or weekly downstairs dealings on Downton Abbey instead of ongoing series plots. The intercutting of Brendan Coyle as imprisoned valet Bates and his legalities with Sybil’s arrangements is a mistake; the Christmas Special’s timeline changes and home alone Branson plot is another ridiculously awkward above and below misconstruction.  Haven’t we done this maid seduction crap three times already?  


  Downton Abbey creator Julian Fellowes complained that he was regrettably stuck with World War I, but at least there was real action to be had there. Now, in the hollow of 1920, Fellowes has backed himself into a corner with repetitive weddings and a yawn worthy Detective Anna on the case. I’m so, so tired of the Bates’ shuffling in a prison yard circle storyline, and Joanne Froggatt’s new lady’s maid Anna deserves more than boring jail visits. Much of Series 3 is too preposterous at this point, the jilting of Laura Carmichael’s Edith Crawley included. Her writerly aspirations and daring career woman potential can be done without unnecessary romance revisits. However, Edith’s plots should not be strung along via a mention or trip here and there, and certainly, she doesn’t warrant yet another time wasting heartbreak in the Christmas Special.  Jim Carter’s butler Carson also feels unnecessarily snotty in his heavy-handed wanting of the previous decade’s grandeur, but he’s still warmer than the Earl somehow. His wedding moment with Mary is better than with Lord Grantham, and Carson has a much more understandable resentment to the changing of the running of a household and the shaking down of old divisions. His unmoving style has a reserve and grace, and his babysitting in the Christmas Special matches the humanity of Phyllis Logan as Mrs. Hughes. I would almost rather Downton Abbey be entirely about the low instead of high if we received the housekeeper’s touching illness worries; Sophie McShera’s pouting Daisy on a cooking strike; or Leslie Nicol as Mrs. Patmore dishing romance, wit, and loss with her dinners from week to week every week.

Indeed, the unexpected alliances and turned on their ear downstairs roles make for great stuff thanks to serious shade between Siobhan Finneran as O’Brien and Rob James-Collier as Thomas. Slick sabotage, innuendo, love triangles, scandal, and angst with new footmen Alfred (Matt Milne) and Jimmy (Edward Speleers) and kitchen maid Ivy (Cara Theobold) are far more interesting than the seemingly preferred Bates plots. I almost feel sorry for Thomas because of cruel period thinking on homosexuality, and his storyline might be the best one this season.  Likewise, Kevin Doyle as Molesley always seems to be made fun of, too, but I’d like to see a romance between him and O’Brien. The downstairs at play Christmas Special shenanigans are just much more fun then the bitching in Scotland.  The up top on Downton Abbey is just becoming too high up, even inhumane compared to how previous seasons presented up and down as one family united in crisis, an undivided household.  Now it feels posh for the sake of posh – burning coat tails and wearing black tie at the wrong dinner!  Oh my, no, anything but that! The topside Crawleys just don’t seem worthwhile anymore thanks to these increasingly lofty rehashings and the superior characters downstairs.


Where Downton Abbey began as a unique series, it has given way to increasingly relying on its period flash and Brit appeal. The costumes are great – a mix of the Edwardian classy and upcoming modern. There’s cars, bobbed hair, jazz, and yet, even my husband commented on how uber British and progressively over the top Downton Abbey is becoming. This bend toward the American appeal and British expectation is compromising the show – they make like we’ve never seen a cricket match before. Well, okay, we don’t get cricket every day. However, we do have soaps. I don’t mind soaps, I like a lot of the classic nighttime soap operas. However, I’m surprised folks pretend Downton Abbey isn’t an English telenovela. I feel harsh in saying it, but Downton Abbey being a soap isn’t the problem. It’s the fact that it has become an unevenly written and poorly timed episodic soap opera. You can have cast changes and big shocker moments without causing internal decline so long as your foundation is sound, but I’m no longer sure Downton Abbey has its storytelling at its core. I don’t see this series going on much longer so long as these obvious and tedious plots interfere with the period potential.  What ever happened to the pretender Patrick? Imagine if he was the real heir, the Canadian railroad investor who ruined Robert, and the mysterious Pulbrook in Swire’s will? I thought this was such an obvious Dickensian interconnected and ironic way to go, but instead, we get prostitute Ethel burning bread and meeting with her baby’s daddy’s parents again and again. Sigh.

Die-hard fans of Downton Abbey will eat up all the scandal and tragedy upstairs and down in Series 3. Despite poor pacing, writing flaws, and character movements, there is indeed still a lot of juicy entertainment to be had here thanks to downstairs heavies, period drama potential, love to hate players, and genuinely likeable characters. It’s a hot mess, but audiences can still enjoy the over the top panache in Downton Abbey Series 3.

10 May 2012

A Dangerous Method


Performances Make and Break A Dangerous Method
By Kristin Battestella


I was quite keen to see director David Cronenberg’s 2011 psychoanalysis opus starring Viggo Mortensen as Sigmund Freud and Michael Fassbender as Carl Jung.  Unfortunately, the all-star cast of A Dangerous Method both helps and hinders the period psychology panache here.

Disturbed patient Sabina Spielrein (Keira Knightly) is brought to Burgholzli Hospital under Dr. Carl Jung’s (Michael Fassbender) ‘talking cure’ treatment.  As Jung discusses his theories on psychology with his wife Emma (Sarah Gabon), Sabina improves enough to help him in his studies- for she wishes to become a doctor herself.  Jung corresponds with and eventually meets Dr. Sigmund Freud (Viggo Mortensen) who also encourages Jung to both treat and learn from the committed Dr. Otto Gross (Vincent Cassel). The radical Gross opens Jung up to new possibilities in philosophy and patient care, and the growing attractions between Jung and Sabina will have long-term affects on both their personal lives and the future of psychoanalysis.



Cronenberg (Shivers, The Fly, Spider) jumps right into the mental juiciness with lots of dialogue stemming from writer Christopher Hampton’s (Dangerous Liaisons, Atonement) The Talking Cure play, which is itself based upon John Kerr’s A Dangerous Method book. This focus on conversation may seem disinteresting, but the speech and banter is quick and well paced.  A lot is said in the frank conversation on top and unsaid in the hidden subtext beneath, too. The photography matches this inward out examination as well, with intimate filming, full and tight close ups, and quick editing. We don’t have much time to stop or get bored in the stream of consciousness in media res flow. Although some of the split screen visuals are slightly imperfect- lens blurs linger in the background when alternating focus- it is critical to the players and the plot to see both doctor and patient in one camera shot as the ‘talking cure’ takes place.  I can see why some audiences might find purely dialogue based storytelling unusual, old-fashioned, or slow. However, I don’t see the hindrance in A Dangerous Method.  The fast moving debates, saucy conversations, and action within the frame via the players, camera cuts, and steady zooms perhaps move too fast in some frames. Onscreen times and places appear sporadically, and years seem to pass from scene to scene- Sabina’s treatment and Jung’s correspondences with Freud appear to happen overnight.  Intercutting pregnancies pass and children and grow up in minutes, and these time changes may certainly be confusing on the first viewing. 

Of course, all this mature, naughty talk is meant for a comfortable and intelligent audience, so I’m not surprised A Dangerous Method didn’t fair well in stateside cinemas or awards voting.  This unfortunately creates an uphill battle for the film. We know where its players are going; even if the viewer follows the ‘journey not the destination’ design, it’s still somewhat obvious in the approach. For such a heavy subject matter- doctors on the fringe of science building the foundation of minds based on dreams and sex with patients!- A Dangerous Method should have been darker somehow. Step it up, raise the ante.  Instead, the ninety-minute picture feels too short and lightweight, merely a quick gander into these people’s lives. These are critical moments for all the characters involved, but it isn’t really entertaining to watch relationships fall apart. Honestly, it becomes kind of dry. After all, we only have four people going round and round- things will get either hairy or dull, and A Dangerous Method seems to take the easy way out. This is a damn decent case study, yes, with more going on then can be found in one viewing. Spiritual comparisons, religion, medical ideologies, id, ego, mind versus self, battles of the sexes, marital life- perhaps it is all too involved and complicated for this precious generic 18 to 34 demographic. Yet A Dangerous Method feels too watered down in an attempt to chase this basic audience when it could have been bigger, better, and completely worthy of itself.



Sure, the too tame or talks too much styles may not work for all viewers, but the major problem with A Dangerous Method is unfortunately it’s would be female star Keira Knightly. I confess I’m already not so beholden of Knightly (Atonement, Pride and Prejudice), and she is very annoying to start here. Whether it was her design or Cronenberg encouraged it, that jaw thing is too dang weird! Rather than gaining sympathy for the abused and sick Sabina, the over the top ticks take the audience completely out of the picture.  One wonders if Knightly can just do that jut jaw any old time or if she discovered her face can do wacky things only recently.  Her accent wavers, yes, but the voice is not nearly as distracting as the contortionist introduction.  Forgive me, but I couldn’t help but think, “Dr. Jung becomes attracted to this?”  Why does Sabina only flip out when Jung isn’t around anyway? Sabina seems too childish early on, but Knightly does improve once she has something more constructive to do.  Again, you expect more complexity, energy, abandonment even.  For such sexual topics, I find it weird there’s essentially no nudity from Knightly. It is as if she’s going out of her way to keep it clean rather than be willing to throw her whole self into the character without reservations.  There are two nip slips for fans, but there isn’t any scandal or achievement to put the viewer on Sabina’s side. She starts dirty and unkempt, slowly graduating into Edwardian grace and sophisticated debates, but this isn’t Knightly’s best.  She never fully embraces Sabina and makes it tough to root for her. So, there’s nothing wrong with a doctor/patient affair?  But writing exposing blackmail letters is okay?  Sabina comes off as a scorned jealous bitch- yet she initiated the naughty offerings and comes to Jung later with her dissertation. Knightly’s scenes go round about Freud and Jung’s debates, and it leaves the audience wondering what the point of it all was.  Were there any answers?  In the end, did anything so life shattering happen? The flipside is that this is life. We divide, rectify.  It’s dirty, messy, conflicted with imperfect people and no easy answers.  I don’t mean to be so harsh, but Knightly is definitely off the mark and her scenes make A Dangerous Method un-entertaining enough to change the channel. Saying ‘Fraulein Spielrein,’ however, is very bemusing!


Fortunately, the male cast makes A Dangerous Method worthwhile.  Michael Fassbender (Shame, X-Men: First Class, Prometheus) presents a cool voice with great German touches and international style for Carl Jung.  It’s a nice mix of old fashioned proper- the accent seems strict and buttoned up despite the casual and pleasant psychologist’s demeanor. Of course, the boundaries between doctor and patient become a little too casual for currently hot stuff Fassbender, but the quaint glasses and tight mustache transform him from it boy status to an old last century intellectual.  Fassbender hasn’t made many contemporary-set pictures, probably because he is one of a very talented few today who don’t just look like a modern actor pretending to be old school.  He physically seeps into being Jung seamlessly with a cane, hat, and finite mannerisms.  Unlike Knightly- who in comparison seems a tame, non-entity- it is very easy to buy into Fassbender’s young, friendly doctor. Perhaps Jung doesn’t know what he’s doing to start- he loves to eat and talk about sex.  He’s pent up no doubt, even small and dorky complete with a milk mustache! However, Jung is charming, bemusing, and there is an idea, a mission and passion he must explore.  More and more weighs upon his mind, body, and soul, and Jung becomes very serious as the picture unfolds. Ironically, these conflicts open him up more to the taboo experiences. We know there is something nasty going on even when A Dangerous Method keeps up the Edwardian behind closed doors sensibilities, and Fassbender is damn good in this within/without portrayal of Jung. Placed in tandem with his other recent performances as the brooding Rochester in Jane Eyre, the powerful young Magneto, and of course an extreme and exposed sex addict in Shame, and one further sees how well Fassbender plays the tables turned restraint. The glasses come off, Jung makes mistakes, he denies, admits, lives.  



Viggo Mortenson (Lord of the Rings, A History of Violence and Eastern Promises with Cronenberg) is of course classic and witty wonderful. Freud’s cigar, the posture and dialect- Mortensen looks obviously Viggo whilst also being perfectly in character as Freud. There’s something transparent yet wise; Freud almost sees through Jung from the start, and hints of resentment over Jung’s married wealth and social and religious positions add unspoken dimension. The stuffed up debates between the doctors are the highlight of the picture- great verbal smack downs carrying psychological weight delivered with an effortless post-Victorian strike on the cheek or drop of the glove.  Angry letters are a ‘violent break’ to these people! Thanks to Knightly’s not coming to play, the Freud versus Jung element here is far more interesting than Sabina’s story. Finding the balance between self and ideas, the father figures building up and giving way to sons, those sons breaking away against authority- these intriguing larger debates hinted upon by Freud are never fully explored in A Dangerous Method at the expense of the pseudo love triangle with Sabina. However, I would love, love to see Viggo in a picture dedicated entirely to him as Freud.  His too brief, underutilized angel on Jung’s shoulder is the perfect support to Vincent Cassel’s devil as Otto Gross. I want to say Cassel (Black Swan) is a riot as the scandalous free loving doctor! Gross is dressed down for the period, almost a city bum in comparison to the sophisticated style of others onscreen.  It would be visually obvious except for Cassel’s lovely, unapologetic embodiment of such of the time radical and wild notions. Oh, the shock of people who regularly discuss sex and talk of mistresses!  Gross is supposed to be disturbed and himself institutionalized, but he gives Jung the educational push he needs to pursue his ideas.  Again, another fine supporting player shortchanged in A Dangerous Method.


Where disappoint in Knightly can create a detrimental viewing experience, Sara Gadon (Cosmopolis) is pleasantly surprising as Emma Jung. The rich and often pregnant wife of our conflicted doctor is pleasing and classy, a proper warm and supportive old-fashioned lady who stands in for the would-be rigid societal yoke entrapping Jung. It isn’t a thankless or completely ‘stand by your man’ role, however. Gadon handles the performance well, but the marriage is meant to be forced, old school, strained, distant and one sided.  Thanks to the honestly and somewhat overlooked focus for Emma, it’s easy to like her and feel for this woman who is obviously not a priority to her husband.  The poor thing spends most of A Dangerous Method faux- pregnant yet still looks gloriously done up in the finest early 20th century hats and white lace. Again, it is a little too symbolic of her purity, goodness, and high collar stoic wealth. But it’s visually smashing fashion and we need to see these Freudian representations and choices. Emma’s one scene with Sabina is also onscreen awkward perfection. Mrs. Jung is quiet and classy while Sabina still comes off as unstable and intrusive. Is one stifling and the other freeing? One maternal and submissive, the other masculine and dominant? With the one sided focus on Sabina and only one reference to Jung’s long time mistress Toni Wolff, these female gives and takes are never fully explored.



Even when the saucy talk would have viewers think A Dangerous Method exposes the naughty of a such a pretty time, the look and style is too lovely! Again, the costumes handle a lot of the symbolism needed for the players, but that visual dimension does so much. The music is also wonderful, both contemporary edgy scoring from Howard Shore and the onscreen Wagner allusions and Siegfried references. The blend and inspiration of the two is internally foreboding yet done in pleasant of the time arrangements.  And of course, the fun phonographs, turn of the century accessories, and scientific gizmos create a sweet attention to detail- the carriages, cars, canes, hats, spats! Old World Austria locations are also divine, with lovely architecture and great boating and water scenery.  I must also say the pretty penmanship and letter writing campaigns are also so classy. Good cursive is a foreign language to youth today!  Though the rental blu-ray is filled with commercials and preview crap as always, the photography looks delightful. The disc skipped a few times, too, and the older design black blocked subtitles were a bit weird, but the menus were quite easy to navigate. It seems it should go without saying that an interface actually works, but the old-fashioned scrolling simplicity does much compared to all the BD Live mumbo jumbo access most discs have these days. The commentary and half hour AFI Master Seminar with Cronenberg were very deep and involved, but the behind the scenes videos seemed too quick for the topics at hand. Biographies or Freudian versus Jungian debate and analysis panels might have been nice.


Of course, there are a few juicy scenes in A Dangerous Method, naturally, and one particularly good naughty from Cassel definitely places this one in the ‘not for kids’ category. However, for all the repeated bumping and grinding trailer and highly publicized spanking themes between Knightly and Fassbender, A Dangerous Method is actually fairly subdued and mostly fully clothed. What you see in the trailer is pretty much what you get. It might have been easy to take the sex romp, tawdry melodrama road, but the witty touches of Cronenberg’s dry humor keep this film more high brow. Indeed, A Dangerous Method is simply a saucy play onscreen, and strangely, I find it quite pleasing just to listen to it.  All this deep dream and sex talk and yet the elegant voice and style feels like a mellow Sunday afternoon stroll!   Some audiences may definitely find fault with the dialogue based performances or uneven character pace and focus, yes.  Fans of Cronenberg’s more creepy work and horror films might be reluctant in watching A Dangerous Method, understandably. However, his cerebral panache is here for smart, mature viewers and psychologists or older students of Freud and Jung. Fans of the cast can dive in as well with history buffs or period piece lovers, too. So long as you aren’t too prudish over the sexual subtext and allow room for a few performance faults, A Dangerous Method is an intriguing little film conversation.

18 March 2012

Downton Abbey: Season 1, 2, and The Christmas Special


Downton Abbey Series 1, Series 2, and the Christmas Special
(Because I’ve had That Kind of Marathon!)
By Kristin Battestella


Robert Crawley, Earl of Grantham (Hugh Bonneville) and his American wife Cora (Elizabeth McGovern) are distraught to hear their cousin and heir presumptive to the family title has died in the sinking of the Titanic.  Eldest daughter Mary (Michelle Dockery) was engaged to the late Patrick to ensure the fortune and Downton Abbey estate remained within the family, but now middle class solicitor Matthew Crawley (Dan Stevens)- a third cousin once removed- stands to inherit all.  Matthew comes to Downton with his mother Isobel (Penelope Wilton) -who butts heads with Robert’s mother Violet, the Dowager Countess (Maggie Smith).  Middle daughter Edith (Laura Carmichael) schemes to displace Mary in the social circles while looking for romance of her own, and youngest daughter Sybil (Jessica Brown Findlay) spends more time downstairs with the servants as World War I shortly and irrevocably changes Downton Abbey.  Embroiled in their own personal highs and lows, valet Mr. Bates (Brendan Coyle), butler Carson (Jim Carter), housekeeper Mrs. Hughes (Phyllis Logan), and maid Anna (Joanne Froggatt) must also deal with embittered lady’s maid O’Brien (Siobhan Finneran) and conniving footman Thomas (Rob James-Collier) as the Great War leaves marriages, positions, and social classes in turmoil. After becoming a soldier’s convalescence home during the war, Downton Abbey faces more change and upheavals as 1920 dawns.

Whew! I must admit, I was a little reluctant to catch on with the recent Downton Abbey hype.  After all, those of us who’ve been in the British period piece know all along shouldn’t be surprised that Oscar winning creator Julian Fellowes (Gosford Park) has a hit on both sides of the pond.  The good folks and evil characters here are not necessarily synonymous with either high or low stations, and this fine balance amid the personal drama is Downton Abbey’s glue. Yes, snots exist above and below, but the higher ups are quite kind and respectable enough to consider far-flung family as well as those on the wrong side of the class divide.  Somehow I suspect Americans must have thought these aristocrats would be cruel and nasty the likes of HBO juice.  However, the fact that all the servants and nobles are essentially one big family at Downton Abbey makes the budding soap drama easier to accept for viewers who wouldn’t normally tune in for the expected stuffy English tale. Honestly, all this acclaim and success for a show that is essentially about a chick trying to find a husband!  One could boil Downton Abbey down to that simplicity, yes; but the period heavy and personal angst upstairs and down (wink) becomes so much more.  Of course, with such a large cast, it is tough to tell who is who at the start, and a revolving door of guests might even make it difficult to tell who’s actually a regular player!  Fortunately, Fellowes and his writing team smartly focus on those characters instead of relying on saucy elements. Again, I think stateside audiences expected debauchery like The Tudors and are surprisingly pleased by the proper period strata and changing societal storytelling at the forefront of Downton Abbey.  Okay, there is one critical and scandalous indiscretion, but if Downton Abbey did fall into those sex, drugs, and rock and roll trappings, it wouldn’t be any good.  This show goes its own way, and the opposites attract approach is a refreshing treat.




 It’s ironic, however, because there are some unlikable people and scenarios that keep Downton Abbey’s word turning.  At first, I disliked Michelle Dockery’s (Red Riding) Mary- her love life indecision is damn nerve racking! Then again, she and Laura Carmichael’s (Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy) meddling Edith grow, or at the very least, ebb and flow with the audience’s attachment.  There’s an early sympathy for Edith, but she becomes increasing cruel and mishandled by time we get to the Christmas Special.  Sybil (Jessica Brown Findlay, Albatross) also doesn’t have much to do at the start, and her involvement with chauffer Branson (Allen Leech, Rome) is also somewhat uneven, ranging from endearing to possessive. Fortunately, the veteran players Hugh Bonneville (Iris) and Elizabeth McGovern (Once Upon a Time in America) are great; a loving yet proper couple who understand the formal but know how to be warm to all in their household. Of course, Maggie Smith (you must kidding if you need a Dame Maggie reference!) is playing, well, somewhat of the same character she always plays- but Dowager Violet is a hoot.  Its great fun to see her and Penelope Wilton’s (Doctor Who) upper middle class Isobel go toe to toe. However, I must say I do find Dan Stevens (Vamps) as heir and romantic foil presumptive a bit dry.  The back and forth romancing, crushes, proposals, and possibilities just gets laid on too thick at times and it can be kind of obvious to say the least. Even so, the entail structure and class situations keep the Crawley family intriguing throughout the First Series. The family loves and hates as needed, with the performances well done all around.

But let’s not stop there! The downstairs of Downton Abbey might just outdo their ‘proper’ counterparts.  While we can get tired of aristocratic technicalities now and again as they go round and round, seeing good servants rise above while ne’er do well ones get their do is always quality television. I can’t wait to see Siobhan Finneran’s (Benidorm) O’Brien and Rob James-Collier’s (Coronation Street) Thomas get theirs!  Their plotting, moments of regret and humanity, and continuing scams are love to hate fun.  With them causing trouble, the servants become a dysfunctional family themselves. Jim Carter (Shakespeare in Love) is delightful as the dutiful butler trying to keep Downton Abbey a smooth machine along with Phyllis Logan (Lovejoy) as strict but sensitive housekeeper Mrs. Hughes. It’s a beautiful irony the way these dang fine people have rather tame pasts that they consider a black mark- when in fact all the dirt and blackmail is upstairs.  Though they’re obviously on the relationship merry go round, too, Brendan Coyle (True Dare Kiss) and Joanne Froggatt (Robin Hood) as Bates and Anna are charming. Really, servants are expected to live like monks and nuns with only Downton Abbey in their souls? I think not. Junior maid Gwen (Rose Leslie, Game of Thrones) and cook Mrs. Patmore (Lesley Nicol, The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe) are also somewhat stock or less developed early on, and likewise Sophie McShera’s (Waterloo Road) kitchen maid Daisy and Thomas Howe (United) as happy footman William are typically annoying but shy and sweet. Fortunately, the dreams, contentment, and taking pride in what one does even if you are supposed to be ‘low’ add a lovely charm and wit. Everyone does indeed have a part to play at Downton Abbey, just as World War I comes along for Season 2.





 Sure, the warfare is somewhat subdued and small scale despite Downton Abbey’s enormous budget, but the trench conversations and no man’s land action is still damn well done stuff for television today. Survivor and reality shows my arse- we simply don’t see enough Great War material that often anymore. It’s much more interesting than the heir and love speculation of Series 1, but the uneven presentation this season is a tough balance indeed.  We had to see the highlife drama before the war in order appreciate the changes, and it is indeed great how the high, low, good, and bad has all gone topsy turvy.  Unfortunately, the war years are dang rushed- the entire show could have simply taken place from 1914 to 1918 with more than enough material.  There’s no need to create storylines that don’t ring true for Year 2. I must say, all these soldiers going off to battle and heavy hospital changes do get me choked up, but it is much too hasty!  With the passing of last WWI veteran, an entire generation is now gone. It’s a past that is no longer garnering respect, and it saddens me that this will happen to World War II veterans- perhaps in my lifetime. Already, we look on the latter war with far-gone period piece nostalgia, rather than seeing the heroes of the 20th century as the living elders with which we grew up.  It’s a shame that The Great War didn’t receive true focus and finite looks for Downton Abbey’s sophomore year.  More effort was spent on the aspects of change itself.  The hats are smaller, the hems are a bit higher, the lines of class are blurring, but it’s still treated as a romantic, radical time.  Fortunately, 100 years later, we do certainly understand the idea of war and the home front emotion it brings- even if we don’t have footmen at dinner anymore either.

Perhaps my sympathy over the War is a sore spot because it was displaced by a few less than stellar new characters. Too many would be at home scandals are just not that interesting- Amy Nuttall (Emmerdale) as new maid Ethel is just a real stick in the mud that I could really care less about, and my gosh Clare Calbraith’s (Heartbeat) maid Jane is just too weird. I mean-spoilers!- one kiss in a few episodes when it took years for everyone else? This isn’t anything we haven’t seen before either, coughjaneeyrecough.  Wasting time on a quick war resolution and affairs while others are ill with the Spanish Flu was indeed a misstep. I’m sure favoritism and higher up favors went on, but the Earl pulls a few strings every episode it seems.  While it is great that they still care about all at Downton regardless of station- it’s quite touching actually- but Matthew’s extended leaves, English tours, and back and forth war travel feels too convenient. Ian Glen (Game of Thrones) as crusty newspaper man Sir Richard Carlisle is intriguing foil for Mary, but the love triangle between them, Matthew, and his kindly but dull fiancée Lavinia (Zoe Boyle, Sons of Anarchy) is also all over the place.  Why go round and round with them when we have under used sassy sister Samantha Bond (GoldenEye) and Maria Doyle Kennedy (The Tudors) as Bates’ scheming and love to hate worthy wife Vera? 



Even with World War I aside, it seems the two-hour finale of tacked on Spanish Flu is just an unnecessary twist. Yep, Downton Abbey zips right through that too, boiling the epidemic down to a Mary and Matthew convenience! Unfortunately, while others are praising the feature length Series 2 Christmas Special follow up, I must say I was a little disappointed.  This special was no more seasonal nor any more of a return to glam heights of the First Season.  The pace again seemed haphazard, with a Servant’s Ball that was just so important yet we never saw it before the war.  And said dance was squashed amid the much more critical Bates on trial drama- along with an odd Aunt Rosamund storyline and more dalliances with the maid.  Weren’t we just here? I love Samantha Bond as Lady Painswick and would much rather have more of her than this rotating maid door.  But tragically, all of this is also sharing screen time with a kidnapped dog plot. Huh? The Christmas Special seemed like an awful lot of filler, a strategically timed delay on the end of the Second Series. Did we really need an extra episode just to get some resolutions finally about ^$%#$&* time! for a few characters? I think even Downton Abbey’s most ardent audiences can agree Series 2 seemed a little by the seat of its pants, and viewers who liked the show when things were fine, dandy, and pretty to look at with not much was going on probably don’t prefer these fast paced war heavies and upheavals. 

Yes, international acclaim and all, yet Downton Abbey is not entirely perfect.  Again, despite the stylized favor, those of us who already watched British period dramas will feel a sense of déjà vu, with generic Titanic references, tame Lady Chatterley put ons, and repeat locations that akin Downton Abbey with feelings of Poirot, Englefield House, and even Hex and X-Men: First Class.  The Series 1, Episode 5 flower show plot is more than just a tribute to Mrs. Miniver; it immediately recalls the classic Greer Garson picture for anyone who’s ever seen it.  Sometimes, it’s as if Fellowes has run out of little events to pin each episode on - and underutilizes the big events- so the critical character storylines get down played for these seemingly random and standard soap opera plots.  Watching all of Downton Abbey together is nice, but viewing everything so closely when the episodes themselves span over 8 years is also unusual for the audience.  To us, all these dramatic life-changing things just happened, so how could they so easily forget? Oh yes, it’s been a few years for them hasn’t it? The uneven skipping- accentuating little plots while missing half of World War I- makes things move too awkwardly- slow on the relationships but fast on the history. It definitely looks like the ball’s been dropped by the writers, and if you don’t have some idea of the history, one can get even more confused.  Series 2’s expanded length further exposes these faults. You can’t have all the war mayhem and glory and shoehorn in the regular society at home, too.  The aforementioned maid meanderings are here one episode, gone the next, and are truly needless in the grand scheme of Downton Abbey.  Though a plus, the editing and pace of what’s good suffers when you have to cut away to the drivel.  Enough is already happening, and these random soap opera entrappings didn’t need to be part of Downton Abbey.





 Thankfully, that style, suave, and Edwardian glamour makes it easy to forget the soap pacing or story issues.  Everyone top to bottom looks dang smashing!  From Lord Gratham’s adorned military get up to Daisy’s little pink frock, Cora’s black netted gowns to Thomas’ footman livery.  The supposedly lower class people are just so proper and well mannered, too.  It’s not that they are British- the dialogue and accents are easy on all ears, classy and old school.  I wish I could speak like this without being looked at as though I have two foreign talking heads!  While I would have preferred more Christmas décor and celebration, I can’t say any more about the costumes than what’s been said by every single person watching Downton Abbey!  Oh, the fashion nostalgia! The period scoring and music are lovely, along with Highclere Castle and the surrounding English towns and countrysides.   The use of early technology changes is divine, too.  You know 21st century kids simply cannot comprehend what it takes to get used to electricity, telephones, cars, typewriters, or gramophones. Hello, if they wanted to hear music they actually had to sing it or play the instruments themselves!  O…M…G!

 Despite some storytelling kinks and growing pains pacing, Downton Abbey is wonderful television on either side of the pond.  I liked it a lot actually, and am looking forward to more in Series 3! With a short seven episode debut and Year Two also available on PBS, streaming, and video outlets; it’s fairly easy to jump back with the Crawley gang for a marathon or a quick few weeks of yesteryear. I actually sort of forced myself into my marathon because I had all the glorious looking HD episodes hogging up my DVR!  It can get that addictive, oh yes. Period piece fans, anglophile audiences, and young or old viewers of soap drama can and should definitely get down with Downton Abbey.