Tag Archives: Jessica Chastain

Eavesdropping at the Movies: 245 – Interstellar

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

Planet Earth is dying, dust storms are wiping out crops, and all-American single dad, former NASA pilot and corn farmer Matthew McConaughey is our last hope for survival. A “ghost” appears in his daughter’s bedroom, appearing to communicate by affecting gravity, and decoding the messages leads our hero to discover the last remnants of NASA, their observations of a wormhole near Saturn, and their journeys through it to planets that might be able to sustain human life. Eventually convinced of the plan’s value and necessity, McConaughey agrees to lead a mission through the wormhole himself, leaving his family behind, but hoping to rescue them in the long term.

Mike was moved and surprised by Interstellar upon its release in 2014, but on this second viewing moves significantly towards José’s unimpressed response, wondering whether it was simply the novelty of seeing new things to which he responded so positively. He compliments the film’s scientific literacy, but complains that its dedication to incorporating scientific principles and registers can impede what should be dramatic developments, making them dry and clunky; José, who has no ear for science, finds that it’s an irrelevance, unable to tell what might be drawn from reality and what isn’t, and feeling that the film doesn’t dramatise it well.

Everything is rendered through the central family and in particular the father-daughter relationship, strained because of the father’s mission, and consistently the film’s most important consideration, a little simple considering the global nature of Earth’s problems and the countless other families the mission is intended to help. The mission’s revelations and problems affect the entire world, and are discussed as such in dialogue, but we feel only the impact on this family – Interstellar speaks of societal problems but doesn’t show or dramatise them. Mike argues, though, that that central connection is handled well, the most effective shot, in a film full of startling visuals, one of a father’s face looking at his children.

We think about the action, and what it lacks. There are plenty of high-concept set pieces, but all seem to miss something in the execution. And we discuss the black hole scene, the design of that space and what it means, and how, while Mike was totally swept up in it upon first viewing, it quickly falls apart.

We’re glad we’ve seen Interstellar again, and at the IMAX Digital, the best available screening outside of true IMAX – because our response can’t be blamed on watching it on a laptop. We saw it as it should be seen, and emerged disappointed. Oh well.

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

Eavesdropping at the Movies: 168 – It Chapter 2

Following 2017’s It, the characters are 27 years older, the events of the first film mere memories, and the effects are more thrilling than ever. But it leaves us feeling much the same as its predecessor – despite fantastic production values, wonderful monster design, and attempts to delve into interesting themes of trauma and the scars with which it leaves us, it’s, well, kind of stupid really.

The podcast can be listened to in the players above or on iTunes.

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

 

Eavesdropping at the Movies 29 – Molly’s Game

mollys-game-film-poster.jpg

Eavesdropping celebrates the New Year with a snappy, sharp crime flick about the world of underground, high-stakes poker. We discuss the material’s weakness, our different takes on Molly’s character, the film’s descent into schmaltzy daddy issues, Sorkin’s directorial mediocrity, what David Fincher might have done with the material; the audience’s response to Sorkin’s dialogue; how good Chastain, Elba and Cera are; and the way Star Wars is dominating every bloody screen in every bloody cinema. Mike sounds different because he has a cold; I, because I’m occasionally trying to eat cake and talk simultaneously.

 

The podcast can be listened to in the player above or at this link

 

José Arroyo and  Michael Glass of Writing About Film

Take Shelter (Jeff Nichols, USA, 2011)

Tking Shelter

Michael Shannon is Curtis, the small-town construction worker who begins to have visions of a gathering storm. His wife, Samantha, is played by Jessica Chastain; an actress with the great gift, a star’s gift, of embodying ordinariness whilst looking exceedingly beautiful. They have a deaf daughter, Hannah, whom they both love. Money’s tight; the cost of providing Hannah with the special needs education and treatment she needs is a strain; but they are a happy family.

When Curtis’ visions begin, the good life that was once the envy of their friends starts to unravel. Because he sees a gathering storm, he begins to build a shelter his family. But in the process of building a physical refuge against what the future might hold, he threatens the security of his present home, not only the house but also that emotive and affective idea of home that anchors Curtis’ sense of self and gives his life meaning.

Curtis’ source of income, his place in the community and his hold on the affections of those he love, all come under threat. In order to build the shelter he first takes out an expensive loan that puts the family home at risk; then he ‘borrows’ equipment without permission from his work which results in his losing his job; later, he even begins to have visions that the wife he loves and who we are shown loves him is going to carve him with a knife.

Are his visions real or are they due to the mental illness his mother suffered from? Curtis’ mother left him and his brother in a car when he was ten and was later found scavenging for food in a garbage dump in another state. She was subsequently diagnosed with schizophrenia and is now living in assisted accommodation. Curtis is worried the same thing might happen to him and it’s shattering his nerves because, in the light of his past, his vow and lodestar has been to never abandon his own family.

Is he going crazy? The film renders the ambiguous relation of his visions to reality beautifully through use of point-of-view and almost biblical imagery of the apocalypse: birds dying, clouds gathering, strong winds gathering force, storms approaching. But is it really all in his mind? The agony of Michael Shannon’s face as he ponders this question, and of Chastain’s looks at Shannon whilst he undergoes doubt, are very evocative and seem immediately understandable.  But these scenes also lend themselves to different  interpretations and thus different answers to the question. It’s a richly textured film.

The ending is a weakness; it makes some of the earlier plot befuddling. The film might have been truly great had it had the strength of its convictions and remained a study of schizophrenia rather than end up on the edges of a sci-fi apocalypse; it raises many interesting questions but perhaps need not have raised so many or at least provided more answers to at least some.

Taking Shelter nonetheless reveals a director with insight into the relations amongst men and between men and women; and one with a great feel for small-town life, for character interiority and for poetic imagery. I found it touching and beautiful.

José Arroyo