Review: Calvary
Released: 11th April
Certificate: 15
Director: John Michael McDonagh
Cast: Brendan Gleeson, Chris O’Dowd, Kelly Reilly, Aiden Gillen
The first scene in Calvary encapsulates the film perfectly: it is tense, surprising, brilliantly acted and possesses twin veins of humour and menace. Brendan Gleeson’s Father James Lavelle is threatened with death by a person from his small County Sligo village whilst in confession. He knows who his would-be killer is; we do not. The film follows Father Lavelle over the following week, which leads up to the death-date set by his assailant.
Quick disclaimer: although I will try not to reveal any major plot spoilers, if you’d prefer to go in completely cold to this film (which I recommend), read no further and just skip to the verdict.
Calvary is less a whodunit than a ‘who-might-be-about-to-do-it’, and as we follow Father Lavelle it seems like everyone in the village has a bone to pick with him and the church he represents. However, while the audience is playing detective Lavelle himself has a far weightier task: deciding how likely the mystery confessor is to make good on their threat.
Gleeson’s skill is undeniable and it is evident from the first scene- a minutes long close-up shot in which Lavelle reacts to the death threat- that his talent stands up to close scrutiny. This same tight framing is often used during dialogue scenes, inviting the audience to look into the eyes of all of the characters and try and work out who could have it in for Father Lavelle. This technique serves to create a confrontational atmosphere, and encourage the audience to really listen to the challenges (and there are many) which are put to Lavelle.
These challenges are at the heart of Calvary, which meditates upon the relevance of the Catholic Church in light of revelations of years of shocking and sometimes systematic child abuse. Initially Father Lavelle appears to be positioned as a living example of the best the church has to offer: he is intelligent, unflappable and willing to traipse endlessly around the village to help his truculent congregation. However, as the film progresses Lavelle is revealed to be a more complex character than the ‘good priest’ we meet in the first scene. The arrival of his daughter, who is recovering from a failed suicide attempt, unearths old problems, and as the troubles of the villagers mount up, we see his initial sangfroid start to fade under the pressure to provide answers. This adds a bitter-sweetness to his counsel: when he says that there is ‘too much talk about sin, and not enough about virtue,’ and that ‘forgiveness is underrated,’ is he being magnanimous or seeking to feel better about his own failings?
Despite the weighty subject matter Calvary has comic moments. The cast make full use of a script which revels in throwing the absurdity of existentialism and religion into sharp relief. It is also a work of metafiction: Lavelle’s response to his aggressor’s shocking revelation which opens the film is ‘that’s certainly a startling opening line.’ This self-referential aspect crops up throughout, notably when Aiden Gillen’s Dr Harte talks about the character of the doctor and what he’s supposed to say as Father Lavelle comes to perform the last rites at a patient’s deathbed. So how does Father Lavelle fit into the story? If his would-be killer makes good on the threat is he a Christ surrogate, dying for the church’s sins? However although these references are interesting, they’re never quite made clear enough to be truly satisfying.
In Calvary, McDonagh and his cast produce a fascinating piece that is part scathing satire and part harrowing drama. Although this is truly Brendan Gleeson’s film, the supporting cast, from Dylan Moran’s feckless ex-financier to Domhnall Gleeson’s teenage serial killer also put in wonderful performances. Patrick Cassidy’s sweeping score and the wind-blasted scenery of rural Ireland provide a stirring backdrop to the action.
Verdict: 4.5/5
Review: The Double
Released: 4th April 2014
Certificate: 15
Director: Richard Ayoade
Cast: Jesse Eisenberg, Mia Wasikowska, Wallace Shawn
Richard Ayoade delivers a complex and engaging adaptation loosely based upon Dostoyevsky’s 1846 novel. Transporting the 19th century Russian setting to a dank, soviet-esque dystopia casts the piece adrift from contemporary or historical reference points, setting the focus squarely on protagonist Simon James (Jesse Eisenberg), and effectively communicating to the audience a sense of his alienation. Simon James is a low-level but capable bureaucrat who struggles to distinguish himself due to the fact that no-one can ever quite remember who he is. When a new employee, James Simon (also played by Eisenberg) arrives, Simon James’ life begins to unravel.
The film may be adapted from Dostoyevsky, but the screenplay owes more to Kafka or Pinter than anything else. Everyone talks constantly at crossed purposes, and the world is not interested in allowing Simon James to get over his nerves long enough to blurt out an explanation or a protest. The cast deliver the dialogue with precision, with Eisenberg mastering both Simon James’ muttered protests and James Simon’s rapid-fire proclamations, and showing admirable flexibility and range. Delicious cameos from Craig Roberts, Sally Hawkins and Chris Morris provide moments of genuine levity, while the interactions between Eisenberg’s Simon James and the world around him walk a queasy line: you may find yourself giggling even as you grimace in frustration.
The film heavily features themes of suicide: Simon James witnesses a man jump to his death in the opening act, and self-harm, self-hatred and helplessness are spectres which frequently appear to haunt the characters. Dealing with such themes in a film which is ostensibly a comedy is tricky to pull off without being churlish, and fortunately the more serious elements are handled skilfully and sensitively. However, the gloom does at times become a little oppressive.
The Double is drenched in symbolism: blood, colour, and a ubiquitous eighties sci-fi parody TV show transect the narrative, serving, stifling and reflecting the events in turn. The setting oozes mystery at every turn: the exact nature of the company and the Colonel (James Fox) is tantalisingly ambiguous, and as Simon James’ mental health appears to crumble the viewer is left wondering whether they’re suffering at the hands of an unreliable narrator. The film never talks down to its audience, and even if you understand the mechanics of the head-scratching conclusion, you’ll be left wondering if really it meant something else.
Despite the speculative setting, The Double explores themes with perpetual relevance: loneliness, isolation, identity ad artifice, and questions the sense of a world in which one’s actual abilities matter less than self-promotion and ‘style.’ Some may struggle with the absurdist trappings but persistence is richly rewarded.
Verdict: 4.5/5
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