Review: 'Calvary' Starring Brendan Gleeson, Kelly Reilly, and Chris O'Dowd

Is there a pair of filmmaking siblings who have a more devious mind than the McDonagh brothers? Not friggin' likely, and it's to all of our benefit that their hearts are so dark. Martin McDonagh's claim to fame is the pitch black assassin film, In Bruges, followed by the twisted Seven Psychopaths. His lesser-known bro, John Michael, directed the most successful Irish comedy of all-time in The Guard. That film reveled in political incorrectness but wasn't especially deep, however John Michael's incredibly rich, sublime follow-up Calvary has so many layers it's downright Biblical.

Part existential comedy, film noir, and commentary on the scandalous Catholic Church, McDonagh's ability to balance three competing tones is a thing of pure beauty. It doesn't hurt he's reteamed with The Guard's Brendan Gleeson, making the most of a rare opportunity to show his leading man ability. Like a powerful titan carrying the weight of the world's ills on his shoulders, Gleeson plays devout Father James, who tends his flock in a peanut gallery of a small Irish community. The film begins, shockingly, with the words "I first tasted semen at seven years old", but that's just the start of a disturbing confession James hears from an unseen man claiming to have been molested as a child. As some form of vengeance, he's decided to murder Father James in a week's time, even though he had nothing to do with the crime.

Or does he? One of the many underlying mysteries is whether this retribution is a just one or the product of a mind demented by his corrupted faith. Left to contemplate his eventual demise, James finds no solace in the vicious townspeople, a collection of deviants and nut jobs who couldn't give less of a crap about the Church. To them, the abuse scandals have turned it into a joke worth mocking, and by extension so is James. Chris O'Dowd plays a local butcher who doesn't mind that his wife (Orla O'Rourke) is cheating on him with another man (Isaach de Bankole) who beats her up. Aiden Gillan plays a savagely negative, coke-snorting surgeon, while the great M. Emmet Walsh is a writer who doesn't seem at all concerned about James' fate. Even when James approaches other priests on the matter they aren't much help, with McDonagh making a pointed statement on faith's inability to solve a tangible crisis.

It's interesting to see James walk through the five stages of grief, like a man diagnosed with a terminal disease. He seems to know his assailant but refuses to tell the police in hopes the man will instead seek absolution. While McDonagh doesn't shy away from the bleak and heavy nature of this complex story, he also instills a bit of hope in the relationship between James and his estranged daughter, Fiona (Kelly Reilly). She's returned home after a failed suicide attempt, and while she remains a bit cynical about God she comes to lean on his sturdy spiritual resolve. But like any normal person, that resolve begins to waver as the day looms closer, and the film loses much of its humor in favor of James' somber reflections on sin and forgiveness.

Like The Guard, this film lives and breathes on Gleeson's powerful performance. His Father James is a complicated man, full of righteous spirit and human frailties and can't help but question his own salvation under such trying circumstances. The rest of the cast is solid but one wishes McDonagh would tone down some of the more outlandish characters that serve no narrative purpose. Does Calvary really need a movie-quoting gigolo? Sure it's worth a chuckle but it's far more of a distraction in a film that is walking a very delicate tonal balance.

Calvary is probably too introspective, too dark for casual moviegoers but hopefully enough strong reviews will gain this beautifully crafted film the attention it deserves.

 Rating: 3.5 out of 5

Read More

Isaach de Bankole and David Wilmot join John Michael Donagh's 'Cavalry'

It's a shame that John Michael McDonagh's acidic dark comedy, The Guard, was ignored by so many people last year. It showed that his style of humor is just as foul mouthed as his brother's, In Bruges director Martin McDonagh. At least the Golden Globes saw fit to give it's star, Brendan Gleeson, a little bit of love with a Best Actor nomination. The Guard proved to be successful, it overtook The Wind that Shakes the Barley as the most successful indie Irish movie of all-time. Not too shabby.


McDonagh and Gleeson have been prepping their next collaboration, which would have Gleeson in the straight man role this time. Titled Cavalry, Gleeson will play a priest ostracized by his parish and the entire town when he's accused of being involved in an abuse scandal. Funny stuff! Chris O'Dowd, Kelly Reilly, and Aiden Gillen joined the cast a couple of weeks ago, and now you can add two more impressive names to the list.

Isaach de Bankole(Ghost Dog: The Way of the Samurai) and The Guard's David Wilmot have joined the cast in unspecified roles. Bankole is a fantastic actor probably best recognized for his frequent roles in Jim Jarmusch films, including 2009's incomprehensible The Limits of Control. Wilmot is an Irish actor probably best known for his supporting turn as part of Intermission, the 2003 comedy featuring Colin Farrell and Kelly Macdonald.

Filming begins in September with plans for a release in 2013. [Twitch]

Read More

Review: The Limits of Control

I'm hard pressed to figure out what exactly famed director Jim Jarmusch was trying to achieve with his film, The Limits of Control. Part of me thinks it was an excuse to glorify the beautiful Spanish landscape, which if that was the point then he more than succeeded. If the point was to create a dense, impenetrable, narrative-less waking nightmare, then he succeeded. If the point was to test the limits of my patience, not to mention the alertness of me and the rest of the people in the theater I was at, then he succeeded as well.

Control is basically the film equivalent of watching paint dry, even if that paint is multi-colored and full of amazing imagery, you're still doing something extremely dull and unproductive. Ostensibly, this is about a mysterious, cool hitman played by Jarmusch favorite Isaach de Bankole. He has no name, he's referred to in the credits as the Lone Man. Might as well have called him the Quiet Man, as he almost never speaks. He's been given a job in Spain, the details of which are unknown to us and frankly don't matter. The journey is what the film is about, as the Lone Man gathers instructions from an odd assortment of strangely named characters. For instance, there's Paz de la Huerta, aptly named Nude, who just seems to be this amorphous figure who shows up, asks for sex periodically, and then disappears. Or Tilda Swinton as Blonde, dressed up entirely in white and carrying an umbrella for no apparent reason. These people show up, make irritating, obtuse statements that are impossible to give a damn about. Completely unprovoked, mind you. I guess the Lone Man just inspires that sort of openness.

Not that I can see why. Bankole's Lone Man is as dull and lifeless as the movie itself. He drinks two expressos at a time, and don't you dare try to bring him a double. He practices his martial arts form in his hotel room. We see this repeated ad nauseum, to the point where people were openly sighing in disgust at it's overuse. There seems to be no rhyme or reason to anything that happens, nor is there a narrative to draw you in to the story. I confess I managed to only stay awake for about 90% of this thing, but I seriously doubt I missed something crucial in those few minutes I was out. In fact when I woke up they were still sitting in the same spot, with Gael Garcia Bernal still droning on about...something or other. Based off the snores I heard I'm willing to bet I stayed awake a lot longer than some others did. Not even Bill Murray, who drops by for a couple minutes to play the American, some sort of shady businessman, can breathe any life into this rotting corpse.

Jarmusch was one of the icons of the indie movement back in the 80's. His films were truly outside the paramters of the norm, especially his earliest work like Stranger than Paradise and one of my faves, Night on Earth. With the exception of Ghost Dog: Way of the Samurai(another fave), his work has become more...aloof, is the word I would use. Broken Flowers, Coffee and Cigarettes, and now Limits, really have no narrative structure and seem more like a random series of conversations. His early stuff had the sense that atleast someone was on a journey of discovery, and was being aided in journey by other strong, opinionated people. Not so anymore. That part has been stripped away, and now we're left with something that's only interesting in the leanest sense of the word. Here's hoping Jarmusch gets back on his game again soon.
2/10

Read More