A World of Kino 40 | No Way Home, The Wind Rises, Merry Christmas Mr Lawrence & more

Well would you look at that! One whole year of making these episodes. To celebrate, I have a mega string of new releases that I was missing out on – though there’s still way more I need to get to. I’ve also managed to shock myself with some new favourite films, so now that it’s Christmas week and AWOK’s one year anniversary, allow me to treat you to a world of kino.

Let me begin with a string of new releases (you’ll be getting loads of those today). The worst of them is The Power of the Dog.

Charismatic rancher Phil Burbank inspires fear and awe in those around him. When his brother brings home a new wife and her son, Phil torments them until he finds himself exposed to the possibility of love.

Great performances from Cumberbatch, Dunst, Plemons, and Smit-McPhee, inside a slow burning, wholly unpredictable narrative, with some really funny understated humour sprinkled between the superbly directed tension. But despite it having all the makings of a solid Western, I’m still strangely dissapointed there wasn’t more to this film. I don’t think it ever truly gets going, despite taking a rather long time to build up to anything that could be considered engaging, so when it ends it just feels a little flat. This is definitely a well made film – so I have no problems with it picking up awards – but I was hoping to get a little more out of it.

Next is the new film I’ve wanted to see for ages, but my cinema refused to show it for some reason. No, I’m not talking about Edgar Wright’s new film Last Night in Soho unfortunately, but rather Ridley Scott’s The Last Duel.

King Charles VI declares that Knight Jean de Carrouges settle his dispute with his squire by challenging him to a duel.

A very rocky start that ultimately ends in a very cathartic way. The climactic battle is fantastically directed, the tension that arises from all the timely cuts and brutal impacts being the culmination of 2 hours of anguish. Damon and Driver are, of course, great in their roles as friends with a brotherly bond turned tragically sour; but Comer as the woman in the centre of all the conflict shines above the rest with an incredibly powerful performance, bearing all the brunt that has come bearing down on her with increasing force throughout the course of the film. 

Whenever their paths collide, the film reaches brilliant heights. But as I alluded to at the beginning, The Last Duel doesn’t become a great film instantly. In fact, it takes a very long time, since it starts with such a nauseating abundance of telling instead of showing that just had me rolling my eyes. What’s worse is that this is the result of it cutting from scene to scene so damn quickly, that it never gave me the time to properly register what was going on, before it would just move on to another piece of superfluous exposition. The battles at the beginning are also awful – definitely not made to the same standard as the final battle – but then again Scott has been terrible at directing large scale battles since Gladiator. 

I’m also not a fan of the ‘retelling of the same story but through different perspectives’ that this attempts to do, since it’s not like it ever manages to recontextualise the events in as masterful a way as Kurosawa achieved with Rashomon. All it manages to do is utterly kill the pacing, thus taking even longer to arrive at all the moments of poignant drama that blossoms towards the latter half. I get what Scott tried to do here by doing that – and certain moments within the film are superb – but this film just isn’t sophisticated enough to fully pull it off. 

And now for the third new release in a row (don’t worry, I’m still not done with them), I give you The Hand of God.

In 1980s Naples, young Fabietto pursues his love for football as family tragedy strikes, shaping his uncertain but promising future as a filmmaker.

How can a film be so beautiful and disgusting at the same time? Ok, don’t answer that, since I’ve seen my fair share of those types of films already. But still, I really do wish this got rid of all the sickening scenes of the first half, to purely marinate in all the gorgeous cinematography and heartbreaking personal journey that comes later. There’s so much packed in here I love, but there’s too many elements I detest which stop me from properly loving this film as I know I should. It took way to long for the film to endear itself to me, but by then it was too late as the credits started rolling. 

The Hand of God is wholly unpredictable. It even begins for a while from the perspective of the wrong character, but the switch to Filippo Scotti’s character is seemless. He’s merely one character among a large ensemble, each with their own amusing personalities that clash consistently, so while I hate some of the things Sorrentino decides to do with these characters, it is a well crafted dynamic. But the film truly shines when it moves away from the large family drama towards a much more individual story focused on Fabietto, as this is where the weird comedy and disgusting elements get phased out for something much more enticingly emotional. The scene where the filmmaker tears Fabietto apart before taking him under his wing is by far the highlight of the film, but it feels like this should have been the catalyst for the plot rather than the climax. I guess what I’m trying to say is that I would have loved it if this film was an hour longer, even if I didn’t enjoy the film for most of the runtime.

The films so far have had potential, but ultimately haven’t managed to execute what they were going for to their best ability. That is not the case with C’mon C’mon.

A documentary filmmaker whose latest project involves gifted children bonds with his smart-yet-sensitive nephew, whose father struggles with bipolar disorder and is in the grips of a manic episode.

Phoenix is excellent, as expected. I continue to be amazed at how large his range is, which just keeps expanding to encompass increasingly more nuanced characters. He hits every emotional beat perfectly, remaining fully grounded in naturalism even in the sillier moments of his performance. Norman is also superb, giving one of the best child performances I’ve ever seen. He’s sweet, eccentric and annoying, his complete sense of wonder at the world and surprising emotional maturity making me love the kid instantly. I definitely felt empathy for Phoenix’s character, since I acutely felt the fun vibes of looking after the kid, while simultaneously feeling nerve-wracking anxiety every time he faced the slightest peril. The performances of those two is definitely the highlight, which is why I wish screen time hadn’t been stolen from them by the awful interviews with the children. At the very least it ends up tying into the beautiful resolution, but I do think some of those interviews were superfluous. Still, that blossoming relationship is the heart of the film, and since it succeeds perfectly at achieving that, then C’mon C’mon works great for me.

This episode has been distinctly lacking in controversial opinions – how boring, amirite! That’s why I’ve concocted an extremely hot take to break my streak of new releases, which is somehow giving me more hate than my West Side Story review. The film in question is none other than The Fountainhead.

An uncompromising, visionary architect struggles to maintain his integrity and individualism despite personal, professional and economic pressures to conform to popular standards.

The Fountainhead is as uncompromising in its vision as the philosophy it preaches. Perhaps it could have delivered its message with much more subtlety – as every single line is a hammer to the head – but its unyielding dedication to promoting integrity to one’s own values is a powerful central theme that climaxes with an incredible courtroom scene. I’m not entirely certain how people find Rand’s ideas reprehensible, because save for the way it’s delivered, the values of honesty and hard work are good values to abide by. With a myriad of gorgeously crafted scenes by King Vidor, The Fountainhead embodies its ideals beautifully.

Gary Cooper is incredible as Howard Rourke. Such an intense performance of a man so obscenely committed to his ideals yet never giving in to arrogance, with most of his words spoken through his body and eyes rather than verbose dialogue. His stoic demeanour contrasts hilariously against the slimy personalities of men like Robert Douglas’s Ellsworth Toohey, who is both too cartoonish in his villainry, but also a painfully realistic portrayal of the way so many in power truly are. Dominique Francon is also played stupendously by Patricia Neal – even if the character was always an inferior Dagny Taggart – and Gail Wynand undergoes an excellent character arc, played with incredible range by Raymond Massey. Even though the screenplay could have been refined quite a bit, the cast act their hearts out to make this an immensely enjoyable film.

Right, this next one definitely isn’t controversial, although amusingly enough it is a film that subtextually undermines what The Fountainhead advocates for. I love examining such dialectical conversations, though I must confess I wasn’t the one to read that deeply into it while watching The Wind Rises.

A lifelong love of flight inspires Japanese aviation engineer Jiro Horikoshi, whose storied career includes the creation of the A-6M World War II fighter plane.

My favourite Studio Ghibli films are definitely the ones not explicitly aimed at children, since their films flourish when exploring mature themes rather than childish fantasies. The Wind Rises is still just as enamoured by the power of dreams like every other Ghibli film, but it takes their wild nature into a territory that is more about rumination than having fun, which I appreciate so much. It’s also really interesting watching a WW2 film from the perspective of the Axis alliance, since while it certainly takes a critical stance of their warmongering, it does so in a non-ideological manner, with the desire to escape from war being presented in a romantic – almost selfish – way. Having such a fascinating backdrop for the personal journey of Jiro (voiced by Anno of all people!) makes the story that much more impactful. 

It takes a while to get going – it wasn’t instantly clear what kind of film this intended to become – but once it stopped time skipping so much, I was fully on board with Jiro’s growth and his relationship with Naoko, which blends sweetness with melancholy so splendidly. After all, how can I not cry alongside the characters, when their tears fall with such vigour to the tune of Joe Hisaishi’s gorgeous melody. It’s mesmerising how Miyazaki captures the emotions so perfectly, elevated in this film especially by the wind having such a unique personality. This might not be the absolute best of his films I’ve seen, but it’s immensely beautiful all the same. 

This first 5 star film of the week is serendipitously another film exploring the Japanese side of World War 2. At the same time, it’s also my first Christmas movie of the season (though don’t expect me to watch very many of those these coming weeks). With immense pleasure, I give you Merry Christmas Mr Lawrence.

British Major Jack Celliers arrives at a Japanese prison camp, run by the strict Captain Yonoi. Colonel John Lawrence, who has a profound knowledge of Japanese culture, and Sergeant Hara, brutal and simpleton, will witness the struggle of wills between two men from very different backgrounds who are tragically destined to clash.

Nothing like a good bit of death and torture to get you in the Christmas spirit! Jokes aside, I never imagined a prisoner of war film could become my new favourite Christmas movie, but it’s through all the suffering that those jolly, Christmasy emotions get the chance to actually feel special, with friendship forged in conflict becoming painfully bittersweet. 

Like with Blow Out, I discovered this film by first falling in love with the music. Ryuichi Sakamoto’s score is so iconic, hitting a melody that should feel entirely incongruous with the setting, yet somehow manages to deepen the themes far beyond any ordinary level. The main theme definitely inspired Joe Hisaishi’s even more famous music for Studio Ghibli, as both capture that melancholic wistfulness with such an irresistible whimsy. Alongside some shockingly incredible cinematography and one of David Bowie’s best performances, this is all around a film that deserves way more recognition than it currently has.

Merry Christmas Mr Lawrence is definitely a slow film, to the point that I would be accepting of anyone who complained it was boring. But like with Papillon, if you give the characters the time they need to discover who they are, you will be treated to one of the most beautiful and subversive friendships you may have ever experienced. Saying that this is a poignant film is putting it mildly, because all of that emotional power is kept bubbling under the surface for the entire runtime, the pressure finally being too much to contain as it explodes with the most gorgeous earnestness with that final line – which has to be one of the absolute best “roll credits” moments in cinematic history!

And now for the final film, I give you the biggest film of the year: Spider-Man No Way Home. Don’t worry, I shan’t be spoiling anything.

Peter Parker is unmasked and no longer able to separate his normal life from the high-stakes of being a Super Hero. When he asks for help from Doctor Strange the stakes become even more dangerous, forcing him to discover what it truly means to be Spider-Man.

Now, before I start, let me just mention the fact that I rewatched Homecoming. Unfortunately, I liked it a lot less than when I first watched it, which put me off watching any more Spidey films before this latest one. I won’t be reviewing it simply because I don’t want the negativity to detract from No Way Home, but I reviewed Far From Home way back in episode 21, so you can check that out if you’re interested. Anyway, without further ado, let’s dive in to the latest theme park ride.

What an utterly incredible experience this was. No spoilers, of course, but I was not expecting the direction this film would take in the slightest. I thought the returning villains would be used as a cheap gimmick, with all the multiverse stuff a shallow fiasco. But for all of the funny references that never miss a chance to chime in, the nostalgia stuff is actually used in an interesting and unique way. It’s done so well in fact, that the original films are retroactively improved because of what happens here – Willem Dafoe especially outdoes himself, and Jamie Foxx is finally given a proper chance to shine. The plot is genuinely original, bringing forth a moral conundrum that sees characters clash for their differing yet sympathetic perspectives, and learning to work together in a manner that has never before been played out so cathartically, with dynamic interactions that were a joy to watch unfold. 

In all honesty, the character drama in this film is just as strong as it is in the Raimi trilogy. There’s still the remnants of the annoying school persona lingering in the background (especially with their obsession for getting into MIT), but everybody manages to conclude their trilogy spanning arcs in a bittersweetly mature manner. Realising how the characters have grown up so much brought tears to my eyes on several occasions, with Holland and Zendaya especially bringing forth their very best to create so many gorgeous and heartbreaking moments between them. But Aunt May is the one who has improved the most, at last evolving into the proper source of inspiration for Peter that she was always meant to be (instead of whatever the hell they were thinking in the prior 2 movies), and even being the primary reason my rating jumped up to 5 stars. 

Ok, so the writing is excellent, and it’s an incredibly fun film, so that should be enough to get my seal of recommendation. But can I just take a moment to gush over the way this is filmed? There’s a scene near the beginning that is done in a single take, which was the most pointless directorial decision ever but I absolute adored it. As soon as I realised the length Watts was willing to go to elevate his style beyond the flat cinematography of Homecoming, I was fully on board to love this film. Beyond that scene, the entire film stands out from the rest of the MCU roster with a very noticeable upgrade in visual splendour. The CGI is obviously great throughout, in both the renditions of the villains, but also the mind-bending reality of the mirror dimension that never ceases to amaze me. The action setpieces are mesmerising, with wide shots and flowing camera movements that perfectly immersed me into Spidey’s speed. Landscapes are also crafted with such a dashing touch of colour, which really puts to shame the boring landscapes of Chloe Zhao in Eternals. And certain portraits of characters at their absolute lowest are given life through the most dramatic lighting, transforming the drama with an artistry that exponentially heightened the emotions. I’m in love with these visuals almost as much as I’m in love with its shockingly refined screenplay.

I was not expecting to like No Way Home as much as I did, but I live to be proven wrong. While I wouldn’t call this my absolute favourite Spiderman movie – the Raimi trilogy and Spider-verse still have the edge – it is most certainly a remarkable achievement, that I can be proud to declare as among the highest echelons of action movies Hollywood has ever produced. I truly cannot wait to dive back into the cinema to experience the journey all over again.