I went speed-dating this week, and recommended Challengers twice. During one of the four-minute exchanges, I described the latest film by Luca Guadagnino as a very 80s movie and the date brightly responded that that decade was the best in cinema. Politely, I smiled back – suggesting the affirmative when, of course, the opposite is true.
Ok, I don’t hate 80s cinema (The Shining, The Thing and Back to the Future are all perfect movies), but it’s burdened with an annoying personality that audiences love – like a loud and extroverted alpha male that’s personable at parties but clearly a tosser. After the New Hollywood era ended, the money-hungry factory system resumed and everything grew bigger and camper and characters shrank into action figures. But a quality I will venerate about this period is the devotion to being oxymoronically narcissistic and self-aware. Challengers seems to have been made in that vein, accelerating without embarrassment. If you’re going to make a ridiculous film with a reality TV premise, you have to push all the way to make it feel good. It’s still baffling, days after watching, that Guadagnino and screenwriter Justin Kuritzkes can make a stupid erotic thriller about tennis and suck me into its pressured innuendo.
Challengers is, by far, the least thematically deep of the Guadagnino projects I’ve seen. Even the ostensibly simple premises of Suspiria (ballet school run by witches) and Bones and All (YA romance with cannibals) have layers. Here, narrative depth is sacrificed almost entirely, but there’s profundity in the form – the music, the visuals, the performances – that bring the absurdity to life. The sexual poetry is also gripping as rackets turn phallic.
Talented tennis players Art (West Side Story’s Mike Faist) and Patrick (The Crown’s Josh O’Connor) grew up together, but their friendship becomes strained under a ménage à trois with the authoritative Tashi (one of Zendaya’s fiercest performances). The story hops between schismatic stages: from their teens to their twenties before a present-day local match between Art and Patrick in their thirties. We see a lot of skin from all three participants, with a lot of snogging, rubbing and sweating. Their carnality in the bedroom is inescapably linked with their passions on the court, hence the symbolism that’s often explicitly stated in the dialogue (‘I’d let her fuck me with the racket,’ says Patrick upon seeing Tashi for the first time). Tashi goes out with the more dominant Patrick at first, then years pass and she settles for the more submissive Art instead. It’s hardly perverse to conclude that – within this well-crafted, sexually symbolic world – the boys (and their members) are the rackets and Tashi is the crucial ball between them.
Kuritzkes struggles with the finish, forcing a reignition of old flames to explode the hilarious conflict and collaboration in the final scene. But Guadagnino, prize that he is, brilliantly paints over it with cinematic garishness. Firstly, an OTT storm purges through the host city the night before the game, and then Sayombhu Mukdeeprom’s camera volleys between first-person perspectives like a discordantly thrilling episode of Peep Show. You see through Patrick’s eyes, Art’s eyes, and Tashi’s eyes before being thrown into the impossible POV of the tennis ball as it’s thrust between the players.
Guadagnino almost bookends this stylistic flair of perspective at the beginning, as the two 18-year-old men stare longingly at Tashi like a work of art. They’re horny, of course, but there’s respect compounding that aesthetic appreciation, especially as she’s the best player. This is exemplified in one scene with Tashi by the sea, wearing a deep blue dress and sitting on a rock like a mythical siren. It’s a more generous look at the heterosexual male gaze, but Guadagnino flips that when Tashi arrives at the boys’ bedroom and gives them commands (which I won’t spoil here). The camera shifts to her point of view, to the heterosexual female gaze. Maybe the gaze isn’t split, but operating from the view of a queer or bisexual observer – the bodies of both genders, ripped with Grecian beauty, attracting an equality of lust. And there’s such tension between Art and Patrick that it’s conceivable they’d leave Tashi behind and ride, rackets high, into the sunset together.
The closing act has its issues, but Challengers should be admired for Guadagnino’s precise, seductive direction, Mukdeeprom’s electric and fascinating visuals, Marco Costa’s breathless editing, and the heavy, immersive techno beats of Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross that energise the soundtrack and shake the film into 80s alacrity.
Travelling elsewhere across continents and centuries, Shogun (Disney+/Hulu) concluded this week. The 17th-century historical epic set in medieval Japan is the Game of Thrones of our roaring twenties. There are heirs, there are kingdoms, there are frictions – all within a homicidally polite society. One wrong move could end in seppuku, i.e. suicide via a sword to the gut. Inflated egos navigate that space, stupid decisions are made, blood is spilt in gallons. Resembling GoT even more, the most charged episode is the penultimate ninth hour.
And remarkably, the characters in Shogun speak mostly in Japanese – another excellent step toward accurate representation of different cultures on screen, especially given the modern popularity of international shows. It’s often quoted, but Parasite director Bong Joon-ho’s speech after winning a Golden Globe still stands:
Once you overcome the one inch tall barrier of subtitles, you will be introduced to so many more amazing films.
The language barrier in the series is somewhat confusedly represented by John Blackthorne (Cosmo Jarvis), an English sailor travelling to Japan. During this time, the country is politely occupied by Christian missionaries from Portugal – a context tackled before in Shusaku Endo’s novel Silence, wonderfully adapted by Martin Scorsese in 2016. I honestly can’t recall whether Blackthorne is meant to be speaking English or Portuguese because, in this world, they’re one and the same. But it’s not too distracting, in the same way that Nazis speaking English to each other in old war films isn’t that distracting. Blackthorne is treated as a lowly savage and he approaches his captors the same way… until he observes their processes and practices, their open-mindedness about sex (or ‘pillowing’), and the honour with which the warriors conduct themselves. Toranaga (Hiroyuki Sanada) is the most important figure, the one with the ruthlessly meticulous plans to overthrow the current monarch. And yet, the most watchable character is his translator Mariko (Anne Sawai) – strong in beauty, patience and even swordsmanship. You lament the time she’s not on screen, commanding the camera with an unforgettable stare.
If Shogun weren’t the likely start to an anthology series rather than a continuation, I’d predict with some certainty of its usurping Game of Thrones. It’s more inclusive, the sex is less exploitative, and the narrative is inevitably more intelligent (given the reality of the setting). But this series also weaves a certain poetry into its storytelling – shown in this week’s finale. I won’t spoil it here, but time, reality and history seem to crash together in a beautifully edited tide. The episode is titled Dream of a Dream, which recalls Edgar Allen Poe:
I stand amid the roar
Of a surf-tormented shore,
And I hold within my hand
Grains of the golden sand —
How few! yet how they creep
Through my fingers to the deep,
While I weep — while I weep!
O God! Can I not grasp
Them with a tighter clasp?
O God! can I not save
One from the pitiless wave?
Is all that we see or seem
But a dream within a dream?
If writer/creators Justin Marks and Rachel Kondo venture beyond one season (and they should), I hope the poetry – as much as the swords, the blood and the intense politics – remains.
ON TV THIS WEEK
The Tattooist of Auschwitz, Sky Atlantic (Thursday 2 May, 9pm - 10:05pm)
Often I’m sceptical of Holocaust dramas, especially those made in Hollywood, because they lean toward hope or victory in a murderously dire situation. I felt it after watching the proficient efforts of One Life with Anthony Hopkins. Sure, it’s admirable that Nicky Winton led hundreds of children away from the gas chambers, but what about the millions who weren’t so lucky? However, after reading survivor Viktor Frankl’s famous, existential account of Auschwitz and Dachau in Man’s Search for Meaning, I’m readier to believe that hopes, dreams and even humour can exist in such places (despite the scrutiny surrounding the author’s work).
The trailer for The Tattooist of Auschwitz – based on the biographical novel by Heather Morris – seems to reward that openness with the true story of a concentration camp tattooist falling in love with another prisoner. Said tattooist Lali is portrayed by Jonah Hauer-King (World on Fire) as a young man and by Harvey Keitel when he’s older, telling Morris (Melanie Lynskey) his story. Lali and Gita (Anna Próchniak) vow to keep each other alive among the horrors of Auschwitz.
The Responder series 2, BBC One/iPlayer (Sunday 5 May, 9pm - 10pm)
Series one of Tony Schumacher’s police drama was one of the best shows of 2022, showing the gritty, torturous existence of a Liverpudlian night-time officer. Since starring in The Office (UK), Martin Freeman is often seen as the well-meaning bloke; the guy you can trust, despite being irritable (Sherlock and The Hobbit are also key to that persona). His turn in Fargo suggested a different side, but The Responder better exposes his darker talents.
Chris (Freeman) is a man sick of the societal dregs he needs to deal with every day, occasionally comparable to Travis Bickle in Taxi Driver. Seeing a way to help the local heroin addict Casey (Emily Fairn), he tries to do good for once. That inevitably has consequences. Plot details for the second series are scarce, but it’s set six months after the first and follows Chris trying to rebuild his life and relationships. Bernard Hill (The Lord of the Rings) also stars as Chris’s father. Below, I’ve included my Culture Whisper review of series one from 2022.
After seeing the news that the licence fee will be frozen and potentially axed, the screenwriter Jack Thorne wrote an impassioned defence of the BBC – comparing the public service broadcaster to streaming services. The latter don’t come out well, as Thorne declares that they prioritise reach over representation (‘if I want to see a portrait of my country, I know I’m unlikely to get it there’).
That's why great BBC series like The Responder – the new Liverpudlian police drama penned by former bobby Tony Schumacher – shouldn't be taken for granted in these uncertain times. The series takes risks in empathising with a dodgy copper, settling into a refreshing sea of Scouse accents, and examining some of the darkest crevices in the country. It's among the best shows to air this January.
Said dodgy copper Chris (Freeman) drives around Liverpool and responds to 999 calls. Oxymoronically, each call becomes mundanely strange. He clears away dog owners, drug addicts and drunk vicars, growing more and more disillusioned by the whole business. He sometimes looks like Travis Bickle in Taxi Driver, but without the dreary voiceover.This isn’t great for the nervous breakdown Chris is staring at: his entire face is grey and carved with anxieties. Being calm is no longer an option. He slaps and threatens those in the street, even resorting to violence. He drinks soup made for a recently deceased pensioner. And he has an arrangement with local dealer Carl (Ian Hart) for regular info.
But after promising to his wife (MyAnna Buring) that he’ll sort himself out, he decides to come good. The young and wayward heroin-addict Casey (Emily Fairn) is running from Carl after stealing a lot of his cocaine. And instead of arresting her or taking her to Carl, Chris helps her escape.
Freeman grabs the role and pushes it hard, absorbing you with the alacrity of a police siren. You wonder how Chris stuffs his anxiety and depression so deep, especially when many aren’t all that sympathetic. When he’s given counselling for crying on the job, he talks about his family and points to his head, saying" ‘I can’t show them this – I love them too much’.It’s conceivable that this character was written for Stephen Graham, especially after Shane Meadows’ The Virtues, but a Freeman performance is never half-baked. Every emotion, every gesture is filled with buried reasons.
Although you’re asked to empathise with Chris’s situation – panic attacks, marriage breaking down, mother dying in a care home he can’t afford – he’s certainly not an aspirational saviour. This becomes clearer when he’s partnered with the regulatory newbie officer Rachel (Adelayo Adedayo), who’s all theory and no practice. When she sees the sordid realities of the job, mixed with horrors at home, her clearly defined and politically correct sense of good begins to crack.
The Responder is an intense moral drama as much as a Safdie Brothers-like criminal caper. Schumacher occasionally overloads the series with dense subplots, but they add to the violent haze of Chris’s problems. It’s a dark, thoughtful, and often funny series that bends around the many contradictory aspects of human behaviour. A gritty triumph.
Unfrosted, Netflix (Friday 3 May)
Let’s face it, Jerry Seinfeld is chiefly known for one thing: the sitcom he named after himself. Seinfeld came at a golden era for American sitcoms, alongside Friends and Frasier. The writer/creator/star briefly ventured into film with The Bee Movie, which is often the subject of mockery via memes. But now, he makes his return to movies with Unfrosted – about the invention of the Pop Tart.
With a ridiculously starry ensemble that includes Hugh Grant, Amy Schumer, Dan Levy, Melissa McCarthy, Christian Slater and Seinfeld himself, the comedy follows the competition between cereal companies Kellogg’s and Post to win consumers in 1963. The breakfast titans race to create a pastry that’ll change the game. Although the premise is true, Seinfeld’s approach as star, director and co-writer is a tad more creative. If I’m honest, Unfrosted looks like good fun. I just hope the jokes are well-baked…
IN CINEMAS THIS WEEK
Love Lies Bleeding, dir. Rose Glass
Filmmaker Rose Glass made her chilling debut with the isolated horror Saint Maud in 2019, and it’s taken her a while to return. Her sophomore effort Love Lies Bleeding is a change of pace, not only with a famous Hollywood lead (Kristen Stewart) but with a Coen Brothers-like plunge into the criminal underworld. This is a sapphic erotic thriller with Ed Harris as the villain, who’s made up like a fleshier Vecna from Stranger Things.
The Fall Guy, dir. David Leitch
Barbie reminded everyone of how funny Ryan Gosling can be. He tends to be seen as the romantic and/or intense dramatic lead, but I’m excited he’s entering a new comedic era. He continues this in The Fall Guy, a new action comedy from director David Leitch (Bullet Train, Deadpool 2) following the romance between a stuntman (Gosling) and his director (Emily Blunt)
The Idea of You, dir. Michael Showalter
Age gaps continue to be controversial, especially in entertainment. In my view, it depends where the gap is. In the case of The Idea of You, which follows a relationship between the 40-year-old art gallery owner Solène (Anne Hathaway) and a boyband star in his mid-20s (Nicholas Galitzine), I’m not too fussed. In fact, the film looks charming. It’s available on Prime Video on the same day as its cinema release.
IN THE NEWS
Harvey Weinstein verdict overturned by the New York Court of Appeals. Will we ever be rid of this man? The former studio executive who rose during the 90s indie boom in the US (decently detailed in Peter Biskind’s film history book Down and Dirty Pictures) was the ultimate villain of the #MeToo movement, the man who made everyone (especially men) realise how systemic and regular sexual assault was and is. Other famous assailants came tumbling like dominoes, and nowadays it’s hard to trust anybody in the public eye. Weinstein’s initial verdict in New York has been overturned because of apparently extraneous testimonies from victims, which could affect his upcoming second trial in Los Angeles. This will lead to those victims having to testify again, a nauseating prospect that Mariam Healey described in Variety:
On Friday, [Healey] said the testimony was more arduous than people realize, that it took two years of preparation, and that she endured harassment because of it.
“It was just rehashing and reliving over and over again,” she said Friday. “Especially after so many years, it was retraumatizing and grueling and exhausting… I definitely don’t want to actually go through that again. But for the sake of keeping going and doing the right thing, because it is what happened, I would consider it.”
Baby Reindeer viewers attempt to search for the real-life people. With anything that even skirts true-crime, you’ll have battalions of armchair detectives set on putting the pieces together. But Baby Reindeer is different from those shows, especially those on Netflix – it’s more personal, sympathetic and honest. It’s plunging into writer/creator Richard Gadd’s subjective and ethically dubious experience with an aggressive stalker and a lascivious abuser. Gadd changed the names, but that hasn’t stopped viewers from analysing the writer’s social media for clues as to who these people really are – with Gadd’s loved ones being caught in the crossfire. Stuart Heritage’s well-written but misdirected piece in The Guardian, about the fallout, effectively concluded that the creators are to blame for that reaction from obsessive members of the audience. I disagree with this; if writers and artists catered only for the bottom rung, then nothing great would ever get made. That blame should fall on them and not the survivor. If anything, the response is a testament to the quality of the series – touching people in such weird and evocative ways.
14 years after writing The Social Network, Aaron Sorkin is penning a new film about Facebook disinformation and its connection to the January 6 attack on the Capitol building in 2021. There have been rumours of a Social Network sequel for a while now, at least since 2019 – after Mark Zuckerberg’s testimony to the Senate about Cambridge Analytica’s affect on US voters. Sorkin doesn’t specify the connection between the platform and January 6, but I’d guess the influence of social media to stir up conflict and violence among political groups is somehow involved. It’s doubtful whether the original’s director David Fincher will return – maybe even Sorkin himself will direct, considering his efforts with Molly’s Game, The Trial of the Chicago 7 and Being the Ricardos.
Jodie Comer, Ralph Fiennes and Aaron Taylor-Johnson cast for 28 Years Later. As a big fan of the 2002 Danny Boyle/Alex Garland zombie horror 28 Days Later, this is thrilling news for me. Director Juan Carlos Fresnadillo attempted a sequel in 2007 with 28 Weeks Later but, despite a few decent scenes and a brilliant breakthrough for future Marvel star Jeremy Renner, there’s something a bit… Hollywood about it. The original was shot mostly on a Canon XL 1 DV camera with low resolution, which not only allowed Boyle to shoot scenes of a desolate London without much disruption but also gave the film a dingy, on-the-ground atmosphere. He was clearly inspired by the Dogma 95 movement in Denmark, which exclusively used poorer quality digital cameras, and even employed one of its key cinematographers Anthony Dod Mantle (Festen) to shoot the film. The sequel looks disconnected from the original for this reason. But both Boyle and Garland are returning for 28 Years Later, which is set to become the start of a trilogy with Candyman (2021) director Nia DaCosta in talks to tackle the middle chapter. I doubt the Canon XL 1 will be involved – the age of digital video superseded by 4K smartphones – but I look forward to seeing what they do with it. I just hope the all-star cast won’t swerve too much from the original’s grit.
TRAILER PARK
The Big Cigar, AppleTV+
Trying season 4, AppleTV+
The Watchers, dir. Ishana M. Shyamalan
Blink Twice, dir. Zoë Kravitz
Deadpool & Wolverine, dir. Shawn Levy