Tag Archives: Andrew Scott

Pressure (Anthony Maras, 2026)

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The biggest surprise at my screening of PRESSURE (Anthony Maras, 2026) at Cineworld was the elderly woman in a wheelchair vaping huge clouds of smoke and a smell I initially thought was some kind of bubble gummy perfume. I was too stunned to think much of it other than admire her brass.

As to the film itself, about the impact meteorological predictions had on the scheduling of D-Day, the vast stakes in that decision, and the pressure that in turn placed on those making it, I liked it very much. It’s all rich browns and golds, with a nostalgic dimension, including singing of hymns at chapel, iconic images of England – the rolling hills, the stately homes, the variable weather – and, as a finale ,whether the protagonists’ wife lives and whether the child was safely born which could have been overegging but isn’t. But for the scene of the D-Day landing, it’s mainly filmed in medium-length shots and close-ups, an intimate focus on a great historical event. The main thrusts invites a comparison to current events – unlike the orange one’s thoughtless and impetuous war on Iran – this is measured, debated, down to the last detail, even to what is predictable about the weather. It’s a film that valorises facts, data, knowledge, method, argument, debate, discipline; and in which the loss of life is integral to the decision making. The film doesn’t make a direct comparison to current events but the juxtaposition inevitably arises.

The acting is admirable: Andrew Scott reliably excellent and nuanced – the sound he makes at the hospital near the end is so expressive and moving. Brendan Fraser surprised as Eisenhower; he is so physically unlike the pictures of the eventual President, but ends up utterly convincing; Kerry Condon is believable as Kay Summersby, Eisenhower’s no-nonsense, unflappable but sympathetic private secretary (and lover); and I adored Damian Lewis as ‘heigh-ho old chap’ bullyish Montgomery; it’s a turn but excellently done.

I enjoyed it much more than I thought and was surprised to be so moved.

Jose Arroyo

Eavesdropping at the Movies: 421 – All of Us Strangers

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Writer-director Andrew Haigh’s romantic fantasy, All of Us Strangers, flows beautifully from scene to scene, inviting the audience to question the reality of what they’re shown but seldom requiring them to – it’s about the feeling it creates. It’s a film about isolation, building and rebuilding connections, how the past reverberates, and in particular, experiences of growing up gay in the homophobic society of the 1980s. Its themes are universal and easily understood, but people who share those experiences will identify with it more closely than most.

We discuss the complexity and natural feeling of the protagonist’s conversations with his parents, who carry with them, alongside love for their son, those homophobic attitudes; the way scenes flow into each other; how letting go of those questions of what and how things are real allows us to get the most out of the film; and we ask those questions anyway. We also take the opportunity to revisit the ending of The Zone of Interest, discuss audiences proudly displaying their dislikes, and have another think about The Holdovers with that in mind.

Listen on the players below, Apple Podcasts, Audible, Google Podcasts, or Spotify.

With José Arroyo of First Impressions and Michael Glass of Writing About Film.

 

Eavesdropping at the Movies: 208 – 1917

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Listen on the players above, on Apple Podcasts, or on Spotify.

An event movie sold as much on its behind-the-scenes technical challenges as its story and genre, 1917 uses invisibly stitched long takes to convey the experiential fluidity of an overnight mission in World War I France, wherein two soldiers must hand deliver a message to the British front line to call off an offensive that will play into a German ambush. Mike is suspicious of films that market their filmmaking; José dislikes the work of director Sam Mendes.

So it’s with some relief that 1917 really rather impresses us. It’s a beautiful film, evocative of both the human cost of war and pastoral serenity of the landscape in which it takes place. Its symbolism, something José derides as overly simple and obvious in Mendes’ work, here functions quite well (if similarly unsubtly); its supporting cast of British and Irish stars is used well, Mark Strong and Richard Madden in particular shining during their brief scenes. And we consider the film’s similarities to Christopher Nolan’s Dunkirk, a similarly expensive war epic about avoiding disaster, rather than boasting of success.

With José Arroyo of First Impressions and Michael Glass of Writing About Film.