Eddie the Eagle Movie Review 0 67


IT’S a bit of a surprise that’s it’s taken this long for a big-screen biopic of Eddie “The Eagle” Edwards to finally come along. And director Dexter Fletcher (Wild Bill, Sunshine On Leith) does great justice to his inspiring true story of courage and a plucky sense of never giving up.

We start off with the bespectacled Eddie as a young lad determined to become an Olympic athlete, training all day and sneaking out at night to get the bus all the way there (played at ages 10 and 15 by brothers Tom and Jack Costello, respectively). His father (Keith Allen) thinks it’s all a waste of time, instead insisting that he get a “real” job as a plasterer, while his mother (This Is England’s Jo Hartley) gently encourages him to follow his dreams.

At the age of 22, Eddie (now played by rising star Taron Egerton) finally sets his sights on going to the Winter Olympics and becoming Britain’s best ski jumper. Seen as a bit of a joke among the other expert athletes at the training camp, through sheer persistence Eddie convinces former and now disgraced ski jumper Bronson Peary (Hugh Jackman) to train him.

There’s nothing in this underdog sports story that’s going to change the world plot-wise – it shares many of the hallmarks of everything from Rocky to Cool Runnings and many more in between. But what it lacks in originality it more than makes up for in heart, spirit, charm and a good-natured will towards trying your best and never giving up even in the face of near-certain defeat.

Fletcher’s film hasn’t got a bad bone in its body and with his impressive third directorial outing manages to conjure a great sense of irresistible sweetness, whether it’s in its affections towards its characters, the cracking soundtrack (from Hall & Oates to Deacon Blue) or the effortless chemistry between its expertly chosen cast.

Egerton isn’t exactly the spitting image of the real Eddie Edwards but he nevertheless gives a winning, convincing performance thanks to studied mannerisms and natural likeability. He keeps his performance just the right side of eccentric without stepping over into caricature and exhibits a charming awkwardness that makes sure we’re with him every jump along the way.

There are supporting performances dotted around the film that add to its personality but Jackman is the real brilliant piece of support holding up many of the scenes. He takes the potentially one-note coach character which was imagined for the film and brings to it a nice mix of silliness and pathos.

While the film’s primary purpose is to put a smile on your face while creating a swelling sense of “you can do it”, it also shares some DNA with Ron Howard’s Formula 1 biopic Rush in that it never skimps on the adrenaline rush of the sport itself. Fletcher often utilises intense POV shots as Eddie speeds down and soars off those scarily high slopes; some dodgy CGI during some of the crashing injury scenes aside, it’s very convincing and often exhilarating.

They don’t come along that often but this is a bona fide crowd-pleaser of a movie by a director who knows how to rouse his audience with genuinely affectionate storytelling and characters with whom you relish spending time. The sports biopic recipe may be familiar but that hardly matters when the ingredients are as utterly endearing as this.

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I’m a freelance film reviewer and blogger with over 10 years of experience writing for various different reputable online and print publications. In addition to my running, editing and writing for Thoughts On Film, I am also the film critic for The National, the newspaper that supports an independent Scotland, covering the weekly film releases, film festivals and film-related features.

I have a passion for all types of cinema, and have a particular love for foreign language film, especially South Korean and Japanese cinema. Favourite films include The Big Lebowski, Pulp Fiction and 2001: A Space Odyssey.

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Movie Review: Home Again 0 353

This review was previously published at The National.

Despite an obviously talented leading lady in Reese Witherspoon and a family pedigree behind the camera in making this sort of rom-com flutter sweetly off the screen, Home Again struggles to finds its way out of cloying cliché and narrative contrivance.

This is the directorial debut of Hallie Myers-Shyer, daughter of genre stalwart Nancy Meyers (The Holiday, What Women Want). It focuses on the life of Alice Kinney (Witherspoon), a single mum who has just turned 40 and tries her best to raise her two daughters Isabel (Lola Flanery) and Rosie (Eden Grace Redfield) in Los Angeles with her job as an interior decorator.

Freshly separated from her British music mogul husband Austen (Michael Sheen), she embarks on a drunken birthday night celebration that leads to her meeting a trio of 20-something lads – Harry (Pico Alexander), George (Jon Rudnitsky) and Teddy (Nat Wolff) – who are trying their best to break into the Hollywood movie business.

The young men improbably end up staying in Alice’s guest house while they work on finishing the script for their first film. Before long they become an integral part of her life, from Alice embarking on a romantic relationship with Harry to George helping out Isabel with her school play. To quote the title of the director’s mother’s 2009 film – it’s complicated.

Except the film mistakes the kind of enjoyably frothy complexity exemplified by the best of the genre for skin-clawing convolution that renders much of the romantic and comedically-tinged drama of Alice’s life lacking in authenticity. Not that it needs the ring of truth that comes with, say, a Ken Loach picture but you need to be able to invest and believe in these characters’ lives as presented.

The approach to gender and generational relationships is simplistic which, of course, is nothing new to a genre that, at least in its Hollywoodized state, so often throws up films meant to be taken as easy-going fluff. But it’s particularly frustrating here when it squanders the potential thrown up with the initial concept of a woman trying to find herself again once she’s out of a stale relationship by entering into one with a much younger man.

It strangely seems far more interested in the plight of the three young men working as three cogs of one creative machine – director/producer, writer and actor – to get ahead in the movie business.  But even then it smacks of implausibility, like a cheap rom-com version of the bromance found in Entourage but without any of the snarky wit or Hollywood satire. Despite decent chemistry between a likeable assembled cast, Home Again is a tough pill to swallow as it rings false through and through.

3.5 out of 10

Movie Review: Goodbye Christopher Robin 0 380

This review was previously published at The National.

The world of celebrated children’s author A. A. Milne and the creation of his beloved Winnie the Pooh stories are chronicled in this frightfully polite biopic from director Simon Curtis (My Week with Marilyn) that flirts with dipping its toes into darker waters but steadfastly clings to safe tropes and always with its top button firmly fastened.

We start off in 1941 where we find an ageing Milne (Domhnall Gleeson in questionable make-up and greyed hair) and his wife Daphne (Margot Robbie) living on their secluded East Sussex farm. They receive a telegram informing them that their son, C.R. Milne, is missing presumed dead after heading off to fight in World War Two.

We then jump back in time to Milne on the front lines of the First World War. He returns from the fighting a changed man; suffering from PTSD (popped balloons evoking sudden gunfire et al.), becoming increasingly sick of just making people laugh with his West End plays and the general hustle-bustle that comes with big city life.

He convinces his reluctant wife to move to the country for some peace and quiet and where his infant son, Christopher Robin (played by Will Tilston at the younger age, Alex Lawther as he gets older), can go on the childhood adventures he deserves with the support of loving nanny Olive (Kelly Macdonald).

Settling into the kind of serene life he craves, he is inspired to create Winnie the Pooh and the rest of his soon-to-be-beloved friends inspired by the stuffed animals with which his young son has become so enamoured. Unfortunately for Christopher – referred to by everyone as “Billy Moon” – his father uses his real name in the stories, turning him into one of the most famous boys in the nation.

Despite the obvious attraction of it exploring the world famous Pooh stories, it’s a film much more interested in the effect it has on a fractured family clinging on to peacefulness, not least the unwanted attention thrust upon a young boy who simply isn’t equipped to handle it and how his parents carry on oblivious.

If anything it takes a curiously bleak outlook on what these stories mean to the world once they’ve been put out there, conveying a somewhat confusing message for a film that ultimately wants us to celebrate these stories as immortally cherished tales; that the Winnie the Pooh embraced immediately by the public and has now stood the test of time for almost a century is in some way missing the point of what it truly means to the author and a son who, inadvertently or not, was used as a tool of innocence to sell the idea of an idyllic childhood in Milne’s Hundred Acre Wood.

It’s bolstered by almost uniformly moving performances; Gleeson plays Milne with a kind of damaged empathy that makes you feel like you get to know the author beyond the public persona. Macdonald is oftentimes heart-breaking as Christopher’s devoted caregiver and Tilston walks away with the film as the adorably sweet-natured young Christopher. It’s only with Robbie that the film makes a misstep; she’s miscast as Milne’s wife and never stepping out of the shadow of cold motherly cliché.

In spite of its darker leanings, the film remains too buttoned up to properly wrestle with those themes in any sort of lasting way, far too polite to ever dive head first into the murky waters into which the drama intermittently peers.

Wrapped in Ben Smithard’s handsomely old-fashioned cinematography and soaked in Carter Burwell’s perpetually swelling score, it’s an aesthetically and emotionally appealing but nevertheless fairly vanilla period biopic best suited to being enjoyed on a rainy Sunday afternoon with tea and biscuits.

6.5 out of 10