Day: September 24, 2021

The films of Wes Anderson, with their pleasing symmetrical designs and cozily cluttered aesthetics, inspire a degree of widespread fandom that few directors’ filmographies can boast. Fans who wish they could be whisked away into Wes World may be interested to learn about a new exhibition coming to London next month.

180 Studios have announced plans for an upcoming event at their space on The Strand, with a host of props, sets and costumes used in Anderson’s latest film, The French Dispatch. They rolled out a similar attraction when Isle of Dogs opened in 2018, and now they’re inviting the general public to slip into another meticulously-crafted vision of a fictionalised foreign land.

Visitors will be treated to “miniature dioramas and large-scale oil paintings” that appear in the anthology film about journalists in ’60s France, along with the thoughtful couture that always pops up in Anderson’s productions. After drinking in the memorabilia, visitors can refresh themselves with a bite at Le Sans Blague, a Parisian-style café serving the appropriate cuisine.

While the press release doesn’t go into specifics on which items ticket-buyers can expect to see, a familiarity with the film invites some ideas: the bicycle used by Owen Wilson as cycling reporter Herbsaint Sazerac (Owen Wilson), the provocative artworks of imprisoned painter Moses Rosenthaler (Benicio del Toro), and the pied-à-terre where Lucinda Krementz (Frances McDormand) watches student revolutionary Zeffirelli (Timothée Chalamet) bathe could all very well appear in the flesh, so to speak.

The exhibition runs for one month from 14 October to 14 November and tickets go on sale 26 September at 180thestrand.com

There were few subjects as popular in Middle English literature as knights and beheading, which accounts for the enduring success of Sir Gawain and the Green Knight: a 14-century chivalric romance concerning the fortunes of King Arthur’s young nephew and the mysterious figure who challenges him to a friendly Yuletide game. Scholars have bickered over the myriad potential interpretations of the anonymous poem for centuries, and now comes a new cinematic interpretation from David Lowery.

It’s fitting source material for Lowery, whose strong body of work so far consists of stories that are – in one sense or another – concerned with myths and legends, all with a tinge of romance, from his strong debut Ain’t Them Bodies Saints to soulful Robert Redford swansong The Old Man & the Gun. Even his foray into Disney IP with the 2016 Pete’s Dragon remake was a tender, beautifully imaginative outing. This is a filmmaker who doesn’t do things by half.

The charismatic, laddish Garwain (Dev Patel) leads a charmed life in Camelot, drinking with friends and canoodling with his peasant lover Essel (Alicia Vikander). His mother, Morgan le Fay, gently scolds her son for his lack of airs and graces, but when a giant, otherworldly creature riding a horse imposes upon a Christmas feast hosted by King Arthur and Queen Guinevere (Sean Harris and Kate Dickie) it’s Gawain who steps up to the mantel and takes on his challenge: to land a blow upon The Green Knight, and in return, one year later travel to the Green Chapel and receive an equal blow in return.

The journey to seek his destiny becomes Gawain’s noble quest, taking him across the windswept British isles where he encounters all manner of friends and foes. Outside the bustle of Camelot, a wild land awaits the hapless young lord, and while his naivety once seemed sweet, in the world beyond the castle walls it’s a threat to his survival.

Yet for all the magic and mystery Gawain encounters along the way, he still lacks direction, waiting for an encounter – be it with the Green Knight or otherwise – to turn him into the chivalrous hero he believes he is destined to be. At Camelot folk ask when he’ll become a knight; Gawain takes the question in his stride but seems haunted by the suggestion that he may not be the man everyone around him tells him he is. As such, it’s a curiously contemporary story despite the medieval setting; one of expectations and restraints, the desire for freedom and the looming question of whether fate is decided for us or by us.

The film rests on Patel’s shoulders. There’s a puppyish quality to young Gawain which he captures with ease, but as life – and his perilous journey – take their toll, he becomes more sturdy and sure of himself. It’s a demanding role but Patel’s performance is effortless, beguiled by the majesty of the world beyond his gilded cage. He’s human enough to fail but knightly enough to not give in. Opposite Patel, Vikander does a diabolical Yorkshire accent as Essel, but as The Lady she makes for a bewitching co-star. As does Ralph Ineson, donning impressive prosthetics as The Green Knight himself. He is used sparingly and this adds to the character’s gravitas.

Visually the film is equally impressive. It’s rare to watch a film and feel so deeply the thought that has gone into every single frame – from the choice of fabrics that contrast the earthy greys and greens of the landscape to the intricate design of singles and crowns. Elsewhere, Lowery’s regular musical collaborator Daniel Hart provides another enchanting score, combining choral arias with evocative violin arrangements and unnerving calls which sound similar to whale song. It’s a strange and haunting soundtrack to a strange and haunting film.

While Lowery could have explored the poem in a little more detail (some of the nuance and queer subtext of The Green Knight’s identity are lost in this version) this is nonetheless a bold vision. Wild at heart, this quiet epic casts a lingering mystical spell, perfect to usher in the forthcoming autumn nights.

There were few subjects as popular in Middle English literature as knights and beheading, which accounts for the enduring success of Sir Gawain and the Green Knight: a 14-century chivalric romance concerning the fortunes of King Arthur’s young nephew and the mysterious figure who challenges him to a friendly Yuletide game. Scholars have bickered over the myriad potential interpretations of the anonymous poem for centuries, and now comes a new cinematic interpretation from David Lowery.

It’s fitting source material for Lowery, whose strong body of work so far consists of stories that are – in one sense or another – concerned with myths and legends, all with a tinge of romance, from his strong debut Ain’t Them Bodies Saints to soulful Robert Redford swansong The Old Man & the Gun. Even his foray into Disney IP with the 2016 Pete’s Dragon remake was a tender, beautifully imaginative outing. This is a filmmaker who doesn’t do things by half.

The charismatic, laddish Garwain (Dev Patel) leads a charmed life in Camelot, drinking with friends and canoodling with his peasant lover Essel (Alicia Vikander). His mother, Morgan le Fay, gently scolds her son for his lack of airs and graces, but when a giant, otherworldly creature riding a horse imposes upon a Christmas feast hosted by King Arthur and Queen Guinevere (Sean Harris and Kate Dickie) it’s Gawain who steps up to the mantel and takes on his challenge: to land a blow upon The Green Knight, and in return, one year later travel to the Green Chapel and receive an equal blow in return.

The journey to seek his destiny becomes Gawain’s noble quest, taking him across the windswept British isles where he encounters all manner of friends and foes. Outside the bustle of Camelot, a wild land awaits the hapless young lord, and while his naivety once seemed sweet, in the world beyond the castle walls it’s a threat to his survival.

Yet for all the magic and mystery Gawain encounters along the way, he still lacks direction, waiting for an encounter – be it with the Green Knight or otherwise – to turn him into the chivalrous hero he believes he is destined to be. At Camelot folk ask when he’ll become a knight; Gawain takes the question in his stride but seems haunted by the suggestion that he may not be the man everyone around him tells him he is. As such, it’s a curiously contemporary story despite the medieval setting; one of expectations and restraints, the desire for freedom and the looming question of whether fate is decided for us or by us.

The film rests on Patel’s shoulders. There’s a puppyish quality to young Gawain which he captures with ease, but as life – and his perilous journey – take their toll, he becomes more sturdy and sure of himself. It’s a demanding role but Patel’s performance is effortless, beguiled by the majesty of the world beyond his gilded cage. He’s human enough to fail but knightly enough to not give in. Opposite Patel, Vikander does a diabolical Yorkshire accent as Essel, but as The Lady she makes for a bewitching co-star. As does Ralph Ineson, donning impressive prosthetics as The Green Knight himself. He is used sparingly and this adds to the character’s gravitas.

Visually the film is equally impressive. It’s rare to watch a film and feel so deeply the thought that has gone into every single frame – from the choice of fabrics that contrast the earthy greys and greens of the landscape to the intricate design of singles and crowns. Elsewhere, Lowery’s regular musical collaborator Daniel Hart provides another enchanting score, combining choral arias with evocative violin arrangements and unnerving calls which sound similar to whale song. It’s a strange and haunting soundtrack to a strange and haunting film.

While Lowery could have explored the poem in a little more detail (some of the nuance and queer subtext of The Green Knight’s identity are lost in this version) this is nonetheless a bold vision. Wild at heart, this quiet epic casts a lingering mystical spell, perfect to usher in the forthcoming autumn nights.

There were few subjects as popular in Middle English literature as knights and beheading, which accounts for the enduring success of Sir Gawain and the Green Knight: a 14-century chivalric romance concerning the fortunes of King Arthur’s young nephew and the mysterious figure who challenges him to a friendly Yuletide game. Scholars have bickered over the myriad potential interpretations of the anonymous poem for centuries, and now comes a new cinematic interpretation from David Lowery.

It’s fitting source material for Lowery, whose strong body of work so far consists of stories that are – in one sense or another – concerned with myths and legends, all with a tinge of romance, from his strong debut Ain’t Them Bodies Saints to soulful Robert Redford swansong The Old Man & the Gun. Even his foray into Disney IP with the 2016 Pete’s Dragon remake was a tender, beautifully imaginative outing. This is a filmmaker who doesn’t do things by half.

The charismatic, laddish Garwain (Dev Patel) leads a charmed life in Camelot, drinking with friends and canoodling with his peasant lover Essel (Alicia Vikander). His mother, Morgan le Fay, gently scolds her son for his lack of airs and graces, but when a giant, otherworldly creature riding a horse imposes upon a Christmas feast hosted by King Arthur and Queen Guinevere (Sean Harris and Kate Dickie) it’s Gawain who steps up to the mantel and takes on his challenge: to land a blow upon The Green Knight, and in return, one year later travel to the Green Chapel and receive an equal blow in return.

The journey to seek his destiny becomes Gawain’s noble quest, taking him across the windswept British isles where he encounters all manner of friends and foes. Outside the bustle of Camelot, a wild land awaits the hapless young lord, and while his naivety once seemed sweet, in the world beyond the castle walls it’s a threat to his survival.

Yet for all the magic and mystery Gawain encounters along the way, he still lacks direction, waiting for an encounter – be it with the Green Knight or otherwise – to turn him into the chivalrous hero he believes he is destined to be. At Camelot folk ask when he’ll become a knight; Gawain takes the question in his stride but seems haunted by the suggestion that he may not be the man everyone around him tells him he is. As such, it’s a curiously contemporary story despite the medieval setting; one of expectations and restraints, the desire for freedom and the looming question of whether fate is decided for us or by us.

The film rests on Patel’s shoulders. There’s a puppyish quality to young Gawain which he captures with ease, but as life – and his perilous journey – take their toll, he becomes more sturdy and sure of himself. It’s a demanding role but Patel’s performance is effortless, beguiled by the majesty of the world beyond his gilded cage. He’s human enough to fail but knightly enough to not give in. Opposite Patel, Vikander does a diabolical Yorkshire accent as Essel, but as The Lady she makes for a bewitching co-star. As does Ralph Ineson, donning impressive prosthetics as The Green Knight himself. He is used sparingly and this adds to the character’s gravitas.

Visually the film is equally impressive. It’s rare to watch a film and feel so deeply the thought that has gone into every single frame – from the choice of fabrics that contrast the earthy greys and greens of the landscape to the intricate design of singles and crowns. Elsewhere, Lowery’s regular musical collaborator Daniel Hart provides another enchanting score, combining choral arias with evocative violin arrangements and unnerving calls which sound similar to whale song. It’s a strange and haunting soundtrack to a strange and haunting film.

While Lowery could have explored the poem in a little more detail (some of the nuance and queer subtext of The Green Knight’s identity are lost in this version) this is nonetheless a bold vision. Wild at heart, this quiet epic casts a lingering mystical spell, perfect to usher in the forthcoming autumn nights.

What makes a good gay film? We’re so used to the predictability of mainstream queer cinema featuring that tired sub-genre of the lesbian period drama (two more white women in petticoats yearning to hold hands by the beach – they might kiss!). Or, the abundance of more contemporary, over-exaggerated interpretations of campy gay men covered in glitter (who also do drag). Or, at worst, the tired yet long-standing ‘bury your gays’ pop culture trope, which has LGBTQ+ characters in film and TV dying or having unhappy endings at a disproportionate rate – a symptom of sensationalising queer trauma.

Marley Morrison’s feature writing and directorial debut follows none of those clichés. Sweetheart marks an authentic account of the murky, counterintuitive waters of the queer experience and eros in adolescence, following the 17-year-old AJ (Nell Barlow) as she pines for a space of independence and self-expression. AJ is dragged to a tacky British seaside resort for a family holiday, complete with the type of amateur entertainment acts and sunburnt British holidaymakers to turn a teenager’s worst nightmare into a reality. Bored and socially awkward, in her signature red aviator sunglasses, bucket hat and baggy clothes, AJ’s narration can be annoying/jarring at times, but it’s hard not to root for her.

Morrison isn’t interested in adding yet another coming out story to to the queer canon and instead explores AJ’s endeavour to be the fully realised version of her queer self. She becomes captivated by the dreamy figure of Isla (Ella-Rae Smith), a flirty yet impulsive 18-year-old lifeguard who works at the resort. Moments of discomfort, tenderness and eroticism become subject to predictability, with AJ’s angst-filled outbursts being a staple of the teen ‘dramedy’ genre.

Isla tells AJ: “It’s the best thing about being on holiday, right? You get to be whoever you want to be”. The chemistry between the two girls is palpable, and it’s refreshing to see a lesbian coming-of-age story that gives more of a focus to the characters’ intricacies and personal battles, rather than any overarching sexual tension. If Morrison strays from clichés, she certainly manages to capture the awkward dynamics of existing as a queer person in a heteronormative environment. Although we know that AJ doesn’t feel like she belongs, there’s no controversy surrounding her sexuality.

Sweetheart doesn’t rely on traumatic storylines and narratives of victimhood to make its audience care about AJ. Her journey isn’t straightforward in any way, but it’s instead relevant and reflective of the queer Gen Z experience. Sometimes there is no resolution. Things stay messy, and that’s okay.