Reviews

I had been eagerly anticipating this film and I was definitely not disappointed. Gary Oldman deserves at least a BAFTA, a SAG, a Golden Globe and a couple of Critics' Circle awards for his role. He is a superbly cool George Smiley. That being said, the who's who of British talent never fails to thrill and enthrall.

Not much can be said about the talent of the cast; they were all superb as expected. Mark Strong was a particularly tender Jim Prideaux, especially with Colin Firth's Bill Haydon. David Dencik as Toby Esterhase brought out the fear of the Iron Curtain brilliantly and Tom Hardy was as soft as he was cocky as Ricky Tarr.

The music, however did not quite live up to expectations. A lot more could have been done to dramatise the climactic scenes in the meeting house in London, much the same as Hans Zimmer did in Inception.

But the one thing viewers should note is that this is a film which should be watched minutely, as the devil really is in the detail.

Whenever Bengali cinema dines with Tagore, it ends up painting a rather poignant picture. This could not be truer for Rituparno Ghosh's Noukadubi (Kashmakash). I watched the Bengali original so can't really comment on the Hindi dub-over.

However, the film itself is breathtakingly haunting. On the face of it, Tagore's world of emotional upheavals seems overly dramatic to the 21st century eye and yet Rituparno's script presents the story in all its elegant heartbreak.

Raima Sen was as graceful and poised as she was vulnerable and devastated, a shining persona for Hemnalini. Jisshu Sengupta's Ramesh was measured to perfection. The real tour de force of the epic was Riya Sen, however. Her Kamala was playful and innocent and yet could bring down the whole audience with a flutter of her lashes and a quiver of her lip. There was a disarming kind of innocence which would surely leave audiences devastated when she found out the falseness of her world.

The only criticism I had was the length. The weight that the songs had on the story was apparent (especially in the original Bengali) but to have so many full length songs added to the length of what was already a graceful promenade of a film. In the end, audiences who've never heard Rabindrasangeet may think the film about the songs as much as the story.

All things considered, however, the story as presented by Rituparno's masterful script and direction is one which should be seen by everyone but is one which is probably suited to a specific niche.

I've been eagerly awaiting this film ever since I'd heard of the project several months back. It certainly does not disappoint, with its host of the creme de la creme of acting talent.

Colin Firth is a superb Bertie and his power to captivate and move the audience is unparallelled. Helena Bonham Carter as the formidable Queen Mother is delightful and commanding. Geoffrey Rushe as the controversial Lionel Logue is as respectable as he is charming. Timothy Spall is an uncanny Churchill (the best yet, I thought) and Michael Gambon seemed to have merged seamlessly with George V.

The film cannot be called a period drama since it shows next to nothing of the typical social conditions and cultural sophistication that such films have invariably shown. Rather, the film focuses solely on the relationship between the future George VI and Lionel Logue, and the difficulties each man had with overcoming their own barriers to each other in order to form an effective tour de force against all their doubters.

It is not something that will sweep the viewer off their feet from the word go and the humour will not be to everyone's taste, subtle and quintessentially British as it is. It requires patient expectation and observation and where these are guaranteed, it quite simply surpasses expectations.

The only criticism I will level against it is the fastidiousness with which the Royal Family's attitudes are treated. Every royal seems to be dead against Hitler from the start when attitudes were a lot more coloured and a lot less steady in reality. Those in the wrong are always in the wrong and the heroes are always deserving of their pedestals.

But this does not detract from the fact that every award this film will receive and has already received, it is more than deserving of.

This film has generated more than its share of controversy. Reports of critics feeling nauseous and demanding that the film be withdrawn have coloured the otherwise brilliant film.

For anybody willing to see the film and not read the novel (either before or after watching the film), please, DO read it. It will make a lot of things clearer.

The violence is not overplayed, overshot or over-shown. It is shown exactly as in the book, depicted line-for-shot, as it were. In the Texas, or indeed the world of the 1960s, it would be hard to stage a crime where the female victim pulverises the male. Therefore, no matter how misogynistic it may seem today, the "violence against women" banner cannot be used to describe the context of this film. It does not do to simply confuse CONTENT for INTENT. For that matter, film critics should have stronger constitutions. Of the numerous reviews from distinguished critics I have read, I have seen the universal experience of queasiness and nausea when describing the reactions to the violence. To them I say, toughen up or quit reviewing. None of this was stated in reference to say Inglorious Bastards of Tarentino fame. Was the violence not far greater in that film than this? But we expect thumping cheers and showers of praise when depicting war violence and stomach churning nausea at depicting murderous violence, is that it? Does that send out the message that war is not murder? Is it not?

Anyway, to get back to the review, it was a very beautifully shot film. There is an inescapable style that pervades the settings and characters and Casey Affleck's performance as the cool-headed deputy sheriff is frightening. The other characters were somewhat compromised, I thought. Film-Amy and film-Joyce could have resembled their literary counterparts a little more (in the book they are a lot more shrewd and Amy in particular is a lot more nagging, thus somewhat justifying Lou's annoyance at her). Also, the screen failed to expand on Lou's sheer intelligence, an aspect dealt with extensively in the novel.

However, these are, in the bigger picture, minor shortcomings in an otherwise must-see film. The book sent shivers down Stanley Kubrick and the film certainly will send shivers down any viewer.

This film is a bit of a mixed bag really. It divided people in half-one praising it unreservedly whilst the other deriding it and complaining. Personally, I can understand both aspects but I side with the former group.

The whole film is like a surrealist painting but for me, the most unique scene from an artistic sense was the one in the pub, where Francis Bacon's circle of friends is introduced for the first time to the naive George Dyer. We see people's half-faces amidst a cloud of smoke and groggy reflections of featureless silhouettes on the grubby mirrored bar-front which, to me, was the perfect visual way in which to present the assortment of eccentric libertarians whom Francis Bacon counted among his nearest and dearest.

I've also read so many complaints about the alleged disjointed nature of the scenes, with the second half of the film being peppered with montages of nightmarish surrealist scenarios that George Dyer finds himself in. Well, weren't these scenes part of the character that was Dyer? His insecurities and fears were imbued into the very fabric of his relationship with Bacon and ultimately led to his demise. No disjointedness there. Someone mentioned that Tilda Swinton is almost unrecognisable in this film--unrecognisable yes but brilliant none-the- less.

The film on the whole is less about the two protagonists' lives and more about the nature of a relationship from the perspectives of the two people involved in it. Many found it shameful that Bacon's influence was not shown more or just that one small episode in his life merited a biographical film. But that's just it. This is not a biography. The title states: Love is the Devil: Study for a portrait of Francis Bacon. A portrait, not The portrait. This is an episode which speaks simply about a relationship and the universality of the two perspectives that defined it. The only point of objection I had at the end was the fact that very few people had even heard of the film which is easily one of Daniel Craig's best, not to mention Derek Jacobi.

The Japanese Wife is an exquisitely crafted film, with the entire emotional gamut of a love story so unbelievable and yet so touching and universal distilled onto the silver screen.

The performances are heart-rending and so realistic that the viewer is just pulled completely into the characters' world. From the restrained turbulence of Raima Sen to the poignancy of Chigusa Takaku, this film probably marks complete departures in roles for its entire cast.

The direction is expectedly superb from Aparna Sen as each scene seems to sigh with the beauty of the Sunderbans and delicately fashion each character in the landscape.

Most interesting for me was the subtle way in which the film tried to make a point about xenophobia and the stupidity of people who adhere to it. When Miyage sends over a box of kites for their 15th wedding anniversary which Snehamoy intends to fly at the Vishwakarma Puja, the sporting kite war is turned into shouts of "Bharater ghuri Zindabad! Japaner ghuri Murdabad!" from one ignorant tramp, which then another ignorant tramp turns into "Duniyar mazdur ek ho!".

In all, a triumph for the cast, crew and for romantics who dare to believe in the impossible. A must see.