Tag Archives: B

ANNIHILATION

Producer: Scott Rudin, Andrew Macdonald, Allon Reich and Eli Bush
Director: Alex Garland
Writer: Alex Garland
Stars: Natalie Portman, Jennifer Jason Leigh, Gina Rodriguez, Tessa Thompson, Tuva Novotny, Oscar Isaac, David Gyasi and Benedict Wong
Studio: Paramount Pictures

B

Combining bits of “The Thing” (the Carpenter version) and the “Aliens” franchise with themes reminiscent of “2001” and his own “Ex Machina,” writer-director Alex Garland offers an adaptation of the first volume of Jeff VanderMeer’s Southern Reach trilogy that’s consistently tantalizing but also deliberately obscure. “Annihilation” should appeal to the same audience that embraced Denis Villeneuve’s “Arrival,” but will probably leave as many moviegoers scratching their heads in frustration as that film did.

In a tale dominated by female characters, Natalie Portman is Lena, a biologist specializing in cell reproduction who’s going through life in a daze over the disappearance of her husband Kane (Oscar Isaac) in a secret military operation. When he suddenly returns inexplicably after months of absence, unable to remember anything about his experience, and then falls terribly ill—only to be virtually kidnapped by soldiers on the way to the hospital in an ambulance—Lena, who has a military background herself, is carted away with him.

Lena awakens in a secret government facility in Florida, where Kane is now being treated (none too successfully, it appears) and she is confronted by a no-nonsense commander, Ventress (Jennifer Jason Leigh), who explains to her what her husband’s mission was: to enter a zone on the coast called Area X along with some colleagues and report on what was happening there. His was only the latest such squad send into the region, and he was the only one to return alive—how, no one knows.

And what is Area X? It is a place around a lighthouse where a meteor struck, creating a zone surrounded by an undulating, colored shroud. The zone, nicknamed The Shimmer, is constantly expanding. It has been quarantined under the guise of protecting people from a toxic waste accident, but its growth will soon engulf populated areas. It is imperative that the government find out what is happening within it.

So Ventress is preparing to lead anther mission into Area X. Other members will include hot-tempered Anya (Gina Rodriguez), smart physicist Josie Radek (Tessa Thompson) and anthropologist Cass Sheppard (Tuva Novotny). Determined to find out the truth, Lena joins the expedition, and the five intrepid women pass through the shimmering border with weapons at the ready.

What they find cannot be revealed in detail, but suffice it to say that they discover a world in process of transformation, with strange foliation and mutated animals. The effect of whatever power is being exuded from the lighthouse on human beings is unclear—is it causing them to go mad and kill one another out of fear, or is its impact stranger and more dangerous to humanity as a whole? The title of the movie indicates the answer, but exactly how the disaster it predicts could happen is something you will have to learn—and puzzle out—for yourself.

While they make their way to the lighthouse, the women encounter curiosities aplenty, but nothing odder than what those who survive the journey confront in the basement of the ruined structure itself. There are also mutated beasts that threaten them—and worse—in episodes reminiscent of Carpenter and Scott. Throughout the actresses handle themselves mostly with aplomb, with Leigh positively exuding toughness and Rodriguez doing a wacked-out episode that’s pretty intense. It’s Portman, however, who provides the glue holding it all together, conveying Lena’s grief over her husband’s loss convincingly before turning into an action heroine with more than a bit of vulnerability beneath her strong exterior. This is a film in which the male presence is distinctly secondary, but Isaac endows Kane with cheerful virility in the flashbacks and persuasive befuddlement in the return sequences.

Other positive elements are the technical contributions. There are some striking and beautiful effects from the team supervised by Andrew Whitehurst, while Mark Digby’s production design adds to the sense of otherworldliness. Rob Hardy’s cinematography and Barney Pilling’s editing accentuate the visuals’ sense of skewed familiarity, and the score by Ben Salisbury and Geoff Barrow uses electronic sounds to reinforce the overall weirdness.

You might come out of “Annihilation” wondering about what you just saw, but the sense of wonderment will stay with you.

THE PARTY

Producer: Christopher Sheppard and Kurban Kassam
Director: Sally Potter
Writer: Sally Potter
Stars: Patricia Clarkson, Bruno Ganz, Cherry Jones, Emily Mortimer, Cillian Murphy, Kristin Scott Thomas and Timothy Spall
Studio: Roadside Attractions

B

We’ve all been to social gatherings that have turned out badly, but probably none quite so disastrous as that portrayed in Sally Potter’s “The Party.” Like the get-together at the home of George and Martha in “Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?” this one degenerates into acrimony as secrets emerge. But Potter’s dialogue, while it has bite, musters little depth; it’s basically a more acerbic variant of what one might hear in an old Noel Coward play. That doesn’t mean that it’s not funny—the characters’ skewering of one another is acidic and often witty. But since the people reciting the lines are little more than stick figures devoid of shading, one can laugh at them without feeling anything—something one could not say of Albee’s tortured foursome.

They are played, however, by a formidable cast. Chief among them is Kristen Scott Thomas as Janet, a politician who’s just been appointed as Minister of Health—her party affiliation isn’t specified, though her views lean decisively in a liberal direction. To celebrate her success, she is hosting a soiree for a small group of friends. As she putters about the kitchen of their surprisingly modest flat, her husband (and long-time mentor and advisor) Bill (Timothy Spall), an academic, is morosely spinning vinyl discs on his old turntable. He looks terrible—not merely disheveled but at point of collapse.

First to arrive are April (Patricia Clarkson), a professional cynic who gets the best lines, and her docile, smiling boyfriend Gottfried (Bruno Ganz), a life coach she dismisses as a naive fraud. Next up are lesbian couple Martha (Cherry Jones), a faddish professor of gender studies, and her younger partner Jinny (Emily Mortimer), who’s pregnant. Last to arrive is Tom (Cillian Murphy), a rich financier, in hectic mode soon further ginned up with a few snorts of cocaine, who explains that his wife—apparently a celebrity of some sort—has been delayed but will come later.

Soon things start to get out of hand. The first revelation involves a bad medical diagnosis, which is shortly followed by multiple ones involving present infidelity and past indiscretions. A gun is added to the mix, with all the Chekovian connotations that go along with it. Violence is not far off.

The verbal volleys that attend the social deterioration have sharpness and tang. The lines don’t have the ring of human authenticity, but they’re bound to elicit some knowing smiles and the occasional laugh. There’s even a purely musical gag when one character is lying on the floor, very near death it seems, and an obtuse guest puts on one of Bill’s vinyls that has an especially inappropriate selection. (Gottfried, who’s always trying to play a mediating role, suggests a change of records.)

The main targets here are smugly bourgeois values, liberal platitudes and sheer faddishness, and though none of the sting penetrates very deep, it has a degree of punch, especially when the barbed lines are delivered by a cast that savors their every syllable. Clarkson takes pride of place as the perpetually tart-tongued April, but Thomas makes the most of her character’s quick changes of mood, and Jones and Mortimer are fine as a couple running into some unexpected problems.

Among the men Spall assumes such a haggard, despondent pose that you can actually believe he’s at point of permanent disappearance, while Murphy’s frantically slapstick turn fits in surprisingly well in this context. Ganz is especially droll as the film’s voice of reason (or, to be honest, unreason, as April so frequently points out).

High points too for Alexey Rodionov’s agile black-and-white camerawork and the fleet editing by Anders Refn and Emilie Orsini. They, Potter and her expert cast lend a truly cinematic feel to what might otherwise have seemed a little more than a one-act play transferred to celluloid.