Get On Up Movie Review 0 32


Get On Up tells the story of the late, great musician and performer James Brown from his troubled upbringing to the iconic “Godfather of Soul” he would eventually become.

It’s quite surprising that it’s taken this long for a proper big-screen biopic about the man. His influence on the world of music, both in its own genre and beyond, is hard to overstate. And director Tate Taylor, who previously had worldwide success with The Help, delivers the sort of energetic and vibrant biopic he deserves.

As opposed to Mr. Turner, which honed in on a very specific part of an artist’s career, Get On Up takes a more all-encompassing approach, jumping between various points throughout Brown’s life. We start in the late ‘80s with him causing a scene with a shotgun at a car dealership, before jumping back to an important gig in the ‘60s, then further back to his childhood, before working our way forward again.

It’s always a danger when a film, but specifically a biopic, does this because it can come across as disjointed and unsatisfying. Thankfully we’re in the hands of a skilled director and a well-written script that keeps things entirely focused and full of energy. In fact, its restless nature is part of the point – this is the story of a lively, matchlessly animated musical performer, and it’s fitting that his depiction here reflects that.

The whole thing hinges on the performance of relative newcomer and rising star Chadwick Boseman. He caught people’s attention last year with the baseball biopic 42, but prepare to see a lot more of him. And not just because he recently landed the coveted role of Marvel’s Black Panther, he has obvious talent.

Boseman is spellbinding throughout, completely committing to the role from the full-on musical performances that seemed, at least until now, to be immune to imitation, to the moments that show a dark side to Brown that most people probably didn’t know about. He does exactly what you’d want and expect from a great actor portraying a real life person; he completely disappears into the role, often making you forget you’re watching a performance and not the actual man himself. Some iffy make-up aside – particularly in those scenes depicting the later part of his life – this is a wholly convincing, utterly electric performance that should make the Oscars sit up and pay attention.

There’s very effective supporting work from the likes of Viola Davis and Lennie James as Brown’s ever-quarrelling, ultimately abandoning parents; Octavia Spencer as the woman who then takes him in, Dan Aykroyd as his record producing friend/mentor and particularly Nelsan Ellis (Lafayette from TV’s True Blood) as his long-time friend and faithful performer, Bobby Byrd. They beautifully complement but never take the spotlight away from Boseman’s enthralling central performance.

Get On Up may seem on the surface to be just another music biopic, nothing that the likes of Walk the Line or Ray hasn’t done before, but while it may hit some familiar beats (no pun intended), it does so with such vim and energy that it’s hard to care. It does an excellent job of exploring the musical world that would shape Brown as a musician just much as he would shape it, highlighting the highs and lows therein, all the while taking us deeply under the skin of a complex man with a fascinatingly eventful life. And for all its zeal and liveliness, it’s also a surprisingly emotional and moving experience; the earlier life drama involving life with his parents is particularly heartbreaking.

I’m not sure if it entirely justifies its lengthy 138 minute runtime – brevity is rarely a bad thing, Hollywood! – but it’s got plenty of spark to keep things moving along that it’s hardly noticeable. This is a biopic that’s very successful at being many things at once, not least of all a stellar showcase for Boseman’s evident and undeniable acting talent.

This review was previously published on Scotcampus.

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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 0 420

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 0 452

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