A World of Kino 33 | No Time To Die, Pawn Sacrifice, Princess Kaguya & more

Hello everyone! How’s your week been? Sadly, I still can’t find the time to turn these blog posts into videos, so we’ll just have to make do with AWOK being in written form for the time being. Regardless, here’s another episode of 7 films – most of them great – to satiate your thirst for kino.

First up, as always, is a super negative review. This time, it’s for the new Nicolas Cage movie: Prisoners of the Ghostland.

In the treacherous frontier city of Samurai Town, a ruthless bank robber is sprung from jail by wealthy warlord The Governor, whose adopted granddaughter Bernice has gone missing. The Governor offers the prisoner his freedom in exchange for retrieving the runaway. Strapped into a leather suit that will self-destruct within five days, the bandit sets off on a journey to find the young woman—and his own path to redemption.

I knew going in that this was bad… but I can never resist a Nic Cage movie! Unfortunately, this film really is atrocious. It has the makings of being an ultra-stylish action flick that – even if poorly written – should at least be fun. But no, it’s simply one of the most embarassing films I’ve ever watched, as it somehow strikes a weird mixture of disbelief at all the nonsense writing and pitiful performances, with just plain boredom. The cinematography is very similar to the concept, in that it has so much potential to be good, but is let down utterly by the sheer stupidity of how it has actually manifested. Sion Sono looks like a really interesting director, but Prisoners of the Ghostland is quite frankly inexcusable.

Next is my weekly dose of the niche, with an Italian neorealist film called Paisan.

Six vignettes follow the Allied invasion from July 1943 to winter 1944, from Sicily north to Venice.

This is a well made, large-in-scope, Italian neorealist war movie told as an anthology film. Unfortunately, I tend to dislike anthology films because they always reset the intrigue with each new entry. On top of that, Paisan is extremely boring. I simply felt no attachment to anything that occured, and while this is a good film regardless – those already well versed in this type of cinema will most likely find immense value in it – I was just constantly waiting for it to finally end. 

This next entry is actually a rewatch, though I never finished my first watch because I really disliked it at the time. That film is Isle of Dogs.

In the future, an outbreak of canine flu leads the mayor of a Japanese city to banish all dogs to an island that’s a garbage dump. The outcasts must soon embark on an epic journey when a 12-year-old boy arrives on the island to find his beloved pet.

One of my hottest takes I’ve ever seemed to have managed to conjure up is the fact that Fantastic Mr Fox is one of my most hated films. I watched it as a kid and just dismissed it as a terrible film at the time, so imagine my shock when I realised just how beloved it actually is. Needless to say, I don’t much like Wes Anderson’s style, but I respect the production design of this film immensely. The animation is genuinely incredible, even if I personally find the actual directing too off-putting. Yet while the strengths of Isle of Dogs definitely lies in the visual presentation, the performances are all so stilted, with weirdly blunt dialogue that just spews information without any degree of subtlety – that is, when it’s actually in English and not annoyingly unsubtitled Japanese. I did find some enjoyment in the scenes with the dogs themselves, but the human bits rather dragged down the experience for me as it all felt so unnecessary. At the very least, I think I am finally starting to understand the appeal of Wes Anderson’s films – because I have to repeat that Isle of Dogs is visibly overflowing with the passion that went into making it – but I still can’t exactly call myself a fan.

We’re getting into long review territory now, beginning with the new James Bond movie: No Time To Die.

Bond has left active service and is enjoying a tranquil life in Jamaica. His peace is short-lived when his old friend Felix Leiter from the CIA turns up asking for help. The mission to rescue a kidnapped scientist turns out to be far more treacherous than expected, leading Bond onto the trail of a mysterious villain armed with dangerous new technology.

The only other Craig Bond film I’ve watched is Skyfall, and I found that terribly boring and utterly forgettable. Needless to say, this isn’t exactly a film I was excited for, so if I wasn’t so dead set on watching every single new release (discounting children’s films of course), then No Time To Die would have definitely been yet another Bond film I’d have let whiz me by. With that said, I’m rather happy I did go see it after all, because the nigh 3 hours I spent watching this in a crowded cinema was most certainly not wasted. 

Beginning with the prologue, I was impressed with how cleanly edited and intimately presented it all was. Perhaps a bit sappy, but I could see it working as the set-up to an intriguing romantic drama in Italy. Of course, this is a Bond film, so naturally it rapidly spirals into peril, and I must say the car chases and shoot outs that happen in this gorgeous Italian town are brilliantly crafted. Plenty of stunts and funny gadgets spice up the action to be more than mere shlock, with the suspicion of betrayal acting as the beating heart of this dynamic sequence. That beating heart doesn’t stop pumping its emotional blood at any point during the rest of the film, because its Craig and Seydoux’s beautiful performances that act as the emotional core for this plot. Even when this Bond film falls into more familiar territory, it’s their relationship that anchors the plot with a gripping thread. 

The plot is admittedly trite however, because while the stakes are crazy high via the use of a fascinating macguffin, it does definitely fall more often than not into the tired tropes that are seemingly intrinsic to all these types of action films. Even though there’s superb action set pieces for the first hour or so of the film – in Italy and Cuba – action becomes action for the sake of action quite a lot, which meets its repetitive pinnacle in the final act – a shoot out that feels like it goes on forever. What’s more, Malek… isn’t very good. It’s weird how he just seems to be getting worse and worse since Mr Robot; but then again, it could just be the writing that made Safin such a lame antagonist. 

But anyway, I’m just getting side tracked by negativity, because in all honesty, my only gripe with this film is how formulaic the plot is, which didn’t even get in the way of me massively enjoying the film regardless. Which reminds me, as No Time To Die is surprisingly funny. There are a lot of jokes packed into this film – from Craig’s remarkably sassy attitude, to the many side characters like Ana De Armas injecting the story with their own unique personality, to even the scientist who amusingly sounds like Borat – and while being surrounded by other people cheering, laughing, gasping and making their own amusing remarks most likely swept me up into a communal experience I don’t normally find myself in, I have to admit that I enjoyed watching this film a great deal. Aside from Malek, this is a superb cast full of charming characters, and as I hinted at earlier, Craig and Seydoux’s highly emotional performances act as an incredibly satisfying climax to this era of Bond (that I admittedly now feel an urge to watch in its entirety) as the very bold decision at the end made me massively respect this film in a way I definitely wasn’t expecting to going in. 

It’s been a while since I’ve reviewed any chess films, so allow me to gush over Pawn Sacrifice.

American chess champion Bobby Fischer is locked in a futile fight against his demons, but his preparation for the legendary match-up against Russian Boris Spassky to win the World Championship may break him irreversibly.

Reading all the mediocre reviews for Pawn Sacrifice made me very hesitant to give this a shot. So I was rather surprised to find that there’s nary a fault in the presentation. Sporting great chess, a fantastic lead performance, and a gripping plot, this is a long way away from the boring experience I was led to believe. 

One of the greatest chess players who ever lived and responsible for the first proper surge in the popularisation of chess, Bobby Fischer is most certainly a fascinating character. But it’s only thanks to Tobey Maguire’s superb performance – alongside some very nifty editing – that I could finally begin to understand what made him so eccentric. Because while his manner of playing chess was definitely inspiring, paranoid delusions and hyperacusis sadly got the better of him, utterly sabotaging his ability to play. It is certainly tragic how such a great mind could fall into such depravity, but it is admittedly that madness that makes him so much more intriguing than any other Grandmaster. The sheer arrogance and stubborness of Fischer is incredible to watch, and Maguire captures Fischer’s unique personality brilliantly, both when he’s duking it out over the board and when he’s tormented by paranoia. It’s his performance that elevates what could have just been a standard biopic going through all the uninspired motions, into something truly enjoyable. 

Needless to say, I was hooked for the entire runtime, but it’s the third act that I want to give proper focus to. It’s like nearly an entire hour of just Fischer vs Spassky – with all the surrounding drama of course – and it’s simply so damn engrossing. I’m amazed that the chess is actual proper chess with real possitions, and while I wish the board was shown just a little bit more, enough of it is handed out – whether in the corner of shots, slightly out of focus, or described by onlookers – so that the games can be pieced together. One of the winning moves is even a reference all the way back to a mock game that was featured in the first 20 or so minutes, but it’s revealed purely through the visual presentation and a smirk from Peter Sarsgaard’s priest Grandmaster: a subtle clue that makes the experience so damn cathartic. 

If I had one negative thing to say about this film, it’s that while the infamous applause by Spassky could have been a beautiful ending, the film does what all biopics do and rushes through all the years that come after the person’s peak. It’s not such a huge issue for me though, as seeing the man Fischer becomes in his final years does work as a harrowing yet satisfying ending. I suppose another gripe I have is that there’s way too much pop music chucked in, since adding a poppy veneer to every montage and spurt of victory got tiring very quickly. But in all honesty, those are the only flaws I can find in this, so I really don’t understand why this film isn’t held in higher regard. Putting the masterpiece that is The Queen’s Gambit aside, I can safely declare this to be the definitive chess film. 

I think we need a short breather now from those 2 long reviews – that is, before diving back in with another long review for my 5 star film of the week – with a short review for Hell or High Water.

A divorced dad and his ex-con brother resort to a desperate scheme in order to save their family’s farm in West Texas.

I didn’t fully realise going in that this was essentially a remake of Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid spiced up with the themes of No Country For Old Men. It may just be because I prefer the modern setting, but I did enjoy this much more than Butch Cassidy, even if it doesn’t reach the same highs as No Country. Regardless, this is a highly enjoyable and well written neo-western thriller, sporting a superb cast in Chris Pine and Ben Foster as the bank robbers with ulterior motives, Jeff Bridges seemingly continuing Tommy Lee Jones’ great work as the nigh retired Ranger in hot pursuit of the leads, and even Gil Birmingham as the partner who takes the brunt force of most of the comedy. A remarkable amount of jokes keep the energy high to add extra weight to the serious twists in the plot, with the grounded aesthetic – while not exactly being my cup of tea in spite of some pretty cinematography of the Texas plains – helping to craft a brilliant film through and through. 

And with that, we have reached the end of the episode. Saving the best for last, I give you The Tale of the Princess Kaguya.

Found inside a shining stalk of bamboo by an old bamboo cutter and his wife, a tiny girl grows rapidly into an exquisite young lady. The mysterious young princess enthralls all who encounter her – but ultimately she must confront her fate, the punishment for her crime.

I have a rocky relationship with Studio Ghibli, because the whimsical fantasies they tell so well just don’t appeal to me anymore (at least, not as much as when I was a child). And with the way this film started – full of baby shrieking, childish antics, and cutesy playing in nature – had me dreading this would just continue my rampant disillusionment with Studio Ghibli. Thankfully, The Tale of the Princess Kaguya is far more mature, sophisticated, and emotionally resonant than I initially expected. What begins as a slightly annoying and rushed childhood of mountain life, quickly evolves into a charming discovery of luxurious living as Kaguya takes her place amongst royalty, before twisting any semblance of happiness – that the film had been overflowing with up till then – into utter tragedy as all the joy she once found in life is drained completely from her face and she realises too late where her happiness truly lied. It makes those rare moments where she laughs and begins to enjoy the world again immensely beautiful; and the multitude of moments where she cries immensely heartbreaking. 

The Tale of the Princess Kaguya works brilliantly as a surface level fairy tale, since it even has an amusing plot line where she requests her suitors to bring her impossible gifts, much like in many mythological stories. But where I think the real meaning and the real, full, tear-jerking power comes from is in the potential for it being read as an allegory for teenage depression and ultimate suicide: a coddled youth with unbearable expectations, feeling an unquenchable yearning for a long-gone romanticised, pristine childhood, before the pain of unfulfillment and the unshakable doubt that life should have been better takes hold and leaves her with the inevitable realisation that death is the only way out, pleading to her parents until the very end for their forgiveness at dissapointing them. It’s some seriously hard hitting stuff from a company that prides themselves on making the very best of children’s films; I guess that’s the secret to their success. But yeah… that ending genuinely gets all the tears flowing. 

But while I could already call this film a masterpiece from the writing alone, it’s the animation that properly brings all these ideas to life. Because my God, the animation is truly something else entirely! Never before have I seen such a uniquely creative art style, bursting in beautiful colours and minimalistic lines that blend seemlessly into one another to create the most gorgeous paintings. Among many mesmerising scenes strung throughout this film, the scene where she runs away from the palace stuck out the most to me as some of the most excquisite filmmaking I’ve ever seen – and even then, the film kept surprising me with new, incredible sequences of pure art. It’s truly fascinating how this seemingly simple style of animation – and it is way less detailed to the usual Studio Ghibli affair – can be that much more effective at conveying such a transfixing narrative, which blossoms into a myriad of emotions with every smile, tear, petal, ray of light and breathtaking song.