EIFF 2015: ’13 Minutes’ Review 0 84


Director Oliver Hirschbiegel made a critical splash back in 2004 with his masterful WWII drama Downfall, which dramatically recounted the last few days of Adolf Hitler’s life in his underground bunker. It earned the film an Oscar nomination and the director the reputation as one of the best talents of European cinema this century. The interim hasn’t seen him live up to that early potential, unfortunately, with a disastrous Invasion of the Body Snatchers remake and most recently the laughable Diana biopic.

Now he’s back with a stoic, if not entirely memorable WWII drama that tells the amazing true story of how in 1939 a young man named Georg Elser (Christian Friedel) tried and failed to assassinate Hitler while he was making a speech in Munich – the title refers to the amount of time Elser missed the German leader by because he left early. The film flips back and forth between his subsequent apprehension and brutal torture at the hands of the Nazis and the years and days leading up to his meticulously planned attack.

13 Minutes is undeniably a handsomely mounted film, with beautiful cinematography, production design and a generally excellent capturing of the time period. If nothing else you truly, utterly believe that it takes place in the era that it claims to, something that isn’t always a given in these types of stories. It’s also brilliantly acted, with Friedel giving a particularly affecting and powerful performance as Georg, a man fighting against one of the most oppressive systems of power in human history and quite literally taking a beating (and then some!) for what he believes in and vehemently against.

The trouble is that the film can feel rather messy in conveying the story that it’s trying to tell. Despite a very obvious structure of jumping back into Georg’s past pretty much whenever one of the Nazi officers questions him about such simple information as his name and age, it’s rather flippant in how it goes back and forth and it’s often very unclear which time period we’re supposed to be in at any given moment. And since the film starts off with Georg planting the bomb, it sort of deflates any great sense of “will he make it to that point” anticipation. Furthermore, it’s not a film in a hurry to get anywhere, lending it a curious lack of immediacy.

The film also takes a disappointingly unsubtle approach at times, either with extra-long close-ups of Georg’s bewildered face when he discovers his bomb missed his target and killed innocent civilians instead– as if we couldn’t feel or figure out how devastating that is ourselves – or in how it sanctifies the central figure. It can sometimes feel like the character is held up to be Oskar Schindler-level saintly, but it never entirely rings true when he’s portrayed as never doing even the slightest thing wrong.

Nevertheless, for all its faults, there’s still something admirable about 13 Minutes, a kind of lump-in-the-throat sincerity about one man’s heroic story that’s sadly little known to most outside of wartime aficionados. There are moments that are genuinely shocking – particularly in the brutal but importantly never gratuitous scenes of torture – and it provides a pleasingly authentic view of that most crucial of 20th century time periods. I just wish it relied a bit less on the jumbled up plot; perhaps simply telling it in the right order might have given the true impact it needed.


Previous ArticleNext Article

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.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Movie Review: Home Again 0 422

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 0 454

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