Jesse Plemons – Consumed By Film

Director: Steven Spielberg

Release Date: October 16th, 2015 (US); November 27th, 2015 (UK)

Genre: Biography; Drama; History

Starring: Tom Hanks, Mark Rylance

Silence dominates the opening moments of Bridge of Spies. Rudolf Abel (Mark Rylance) is the target, tailed by a swarm of men wearing fedoras. The possible KGB operative remains stony-faced — his dirty nails suggesting foul play — as he retrieves a silver coin which, after much tinkering and magnifying, opens to reveal a tiny folded message. It’s the late-1950s and the Cold War is at its peak. The US is feeling the after-effects of the Rosenbergs. McCarthyism is rife. Trials and conspiracies dominate the landscape. Director Steven Spielberg even insists upon showing us the construction of the Berlin Wall and the ensuing chaos in Germany. It’s that kind of movie.

Back in the US, a country scarred mentally rather than physically by rising tensions, we meet lawyer James Donovan. Donovan is clearly a smart man, and we don’t simply know this because he’s being played by Tom Hanks; we also see him outwit a fellow professional during a metaphor-heavy conversation about bowling pins and tornadoes. He has a way with words, and reverberates a diplomacy that wholly fits his occupation. For this reason Donovan ends up defending Abel in court, a job his superior suggests will be straightforward given guilt is unequivocal. Simply put, “It’s a patriotic duty”. “Everyone will hate me, but at least I’ll lose”, quips Donovan. It’s also that kind of movie.

See, Donovan is a beacon of ethical clarity in a murky world, and that’s why we endorse him with so much fondness. He relentlessly holds injustice to account in the name of his client despite the subsequent threat faced by himself and his family. It is right to defend a potentially wrong man, but is it feasible to do so under such conditions? Perhaps not, yet the upstanding advocate defends anyway. On the topic of family, Spielberg’s admiration and respect for children once again shines through during a talk between Donovan and his son — the latter, though young, hurdles naivety by understanding war is a possibility, and has intelligently worked out the potential radius of an atom bomb in preparation.

Bridge of Spies isn’t a boots-on-the-ground war film though. Rather, it is one that pits apparently important men around tables as they discuss the probability of battle without ever having to actively engage themselves. If anything, events on screen are propelled by a “war of information,” and we get lots of just that via high-stakes-cum-low-key rounds of dialogue. Donovan is at the centre of it all and often finds himself in no man’s land, devoid of support. He faces a grouchy judge in his quest for fairness, and a grouchy US too: locals stare at him with contempt when they realise he is the one defending the Soviet and Donovan unjustly becomes a rash on the domestic landscape.

That’s not how we see it though. Hanks offers more than just A-list reliability; he negotiates political wrinkles and unfair judgement with everyman aplomb. When two Americans face prosecution and trade deals are optioned, Hanks irons out any narrative complications with charm and a coherent tongue. There is nobody better at playing this type of role. On the opposing side, Mark Rylance affords Abel true mystery. The uncouth detachment that the infiltrator purveys could just be an act — he is a foreign agent, after all. But there is a constant kindness to Abel’s words, embodied by his “standing man” speech that reveals itself to be a masterclass in subtlety, beautifully delivered by Rylance.

A rustic production design blankets the movie in a 50s sheen. People use typewriters, wear grey trench coats, and smoke cigars. Yet there is an unavoidable modern truth at the fore too. “This Russian spy came here to threaten our way of life,” barks one particularly cheesed off American lawman, a statement that could easily be reshaped and applied to the climate of cultural blame within which we currently reside. Matt Charman and the Coen brothers’ screenwriting examines what borders mean in conjunction with matters of law (and, by proxy, matters of humanity). This forms another sturdy basis from which we can empathise with the characters on screen (Donovan, for instance, believes Abel has the right to a proper trial even though he isn’t an American citizen).

Spielberg harks back to Road to Perdition with his use of heavy rainfall, dripping umbrellas, and general murkiness. But also, oddly, bouts of light humour and fleeting courtroom trips recall Rob Reiner’s A Few Good Men. The Coen brothers’ screenplay inflections are those moments of dry comedy, generously spread throughout to loosen the dramatic belt while still giving room to the film’s weighty subject matter. Upon arrival in Germany for tetchy negotiations, Donovan takes up residence in a dingy apartment as his partners, conveniently unable to assist on the ground, are cosied up in the local Hilton hotel.

The gags are a treat, but the imminent possibility of peril seldom retreats. In fact, it grows stronger when we reach East Berlin; a shot from inside a train passing over the Berlin Wall highlights the difference between the fairly controlled west and the decimated east, forming a potential ‘before’ and ‘after’ picture for Donovan should he slip up and fuel the war bid. It is not as tense as, say, Sicario, but the threat of war does teeter on a knife edge and you can just about see each sway amongst the chilly mist.

Thomas Newman contributes a beautiful score that inspires and haunts as it reflects the changing landscapes: homely US, arctic Germany. In typical Spielbergian fashion, Newman’s score also tugs at our heartstrings, either through its grandiose scope (Saving Private Ryan occasionally springs to mind) or, as is the case towards the film’s conclusion, a simple piano melody. It almost goes without saying in 2015 but Spielberg himself is on fine form as he juggles a whole host of characters — Amy Ryan, Jesse Plemons, Sebastian Koch, and many more ably support — and a potentially tricky script with sure-fire handiness.

It’s not excessively complex filmmaking, nor is it in any way underfed. There is a clear start point, a clear end point (a lovely one at that), and an admirable confidence in the material. Bridge of Spies is a wonderful, eloquent piece of cinema, delivered by a directorial giant unafraid to promote the practice of principles, and actors who clearly cherish the process. It’s the kind of film that makes going to the pictures worthwhile. It’s that kind of movie.

Images credit: IMP Awards, Collider

Images copyright (©): Walt Disney Studios Motion Pictures, 20th Century Fox

Director: Paul Thomas Anderson

Release Date: September 21st, 2012 (US); November 16th, 2012 (UK)

Genre: Drama

Starring: Joaquin Phoenix, Philip Seymour Hoffman, Amy Adams

From the inquisitive mind of Paul Thomas Anderson comes The Master, a beautifully shot depiction of the relationship between two external polar opposites — a worn-out, angry war veteran and an intellectual, charismatic cult leader — along with the gradual realisation that both men are internally very similar. Paul Thomas Anderson truly has a gift for filmmaking, for creating worlds that engulf audiences and for establishing characters who seem increasingly real and infuriatingly flawed-yet-admirable — even at the occasional expense of sense and structure. In The Master, Anderson has just that again as, although confused at times, the film is encapsulating and driven by three uniquely masterful performances.

The Master tells the story of Freddie Quell, a former Navy officer and current alcoholic and sex addict, who is unable to find his place in the post-war society. After struggling through a number of jobs, none of which he is able to adjust and settle in to, Quell wakes up one morning on a boat guided by Lancaster Dodd, a charismatic individual who is the leader of a philosophical entity known as “The Cause”. Enticed by the opportunity and awe-struck by Dodd’s uncanny allure and knowledge, Quell embarks on a journey of rediscovery and recovery, all the while Dodd’s beckoning light begins to flicker.

At one point, Philip Seymour Hoffman’s Lancaster Dodd says, “For without [scepticism] we’d be positives and no negatives, therefore zero charge.” Fittingly, this is not only the case for Dodd and his cleansing techniques, but it is also true in terms of The Master as a whole. There are moments of doubt in regard to where Anderson is attempting to direct proceedings and the film does take its time to get itself together, but without these uncertainties the likes of Hoffman, Phoenix and Adams would have a lot less to sink their teeth into. The film is a look into acceptance and readjustment; a commentary on belief and the power of cult-dynamic; a take on the societal and personal issues of consumerism and sex appeal which have existed in different forms for decades. Somehow all of these elements must find a way to jostle into position at the forefront of what is going on, and there are occasions where goings-on become slightly over-run and confused as a result. However, these aforementioned issues are necessary as they each act as a vehicle for the various characters to develop alongside.

The Master kicks-off in a somewhat obscure manner as Freddie Quell, played by Joaquin Phoenix, is in the process of acclimatising to life after the war. The pace of the film is very slow in these opening minutes and it is not until Quell meets Dodd that the film really gets into its stride. The first ‘processing’ scene — where Dodd subjects a restless Quell to uncomfortable and hard-hitting personal questions — is utterly scintillating. The unassuming poise Hoffman portrays against Phoenix’s eagerness is encapsulating and sets the tone for much of what is come between the pair. This scene is just about the first time the two have appeared opposite each other on screen, and it has a hint of a De Niro-Pacino Heat-esque feel to it. As the film progresses, an edgy atmosphere develops and events always seem to be on the cusp: either of violence, or laughter, or anger. This atmosphere is aided by an extrinsic stillness projected from the camera, and lingering shots that, if left a second or two longer, would probably see things kick-off — this is certainly the case on one occasion.

The Master, if nothing else, boasts performances worthy of its title. Paul Thomas Anderson always seems to grind out the absolute best from his actors and this is once again the case here. Joaquin Phoenix is uncomfortable to watch for much of the film, which is exactly how his addiction-fuelled, uncompromising war veteran should be seen. From the outset, almost everything about Freddie Quell is undesirable, such as his excessive consumption of alcohol or his noticeably hunched-back, which is in dire need of straightening (much like his head). The genius in Phoenix’s portrayal is that he deceitfully and gradually positions Quell as man who draws much sympathy from the audience, even whilst retaining these unwanted traits.

Of course, in Philip Seymour Hoffman and Amy Adams, Phoenix has two wonderfully gifted actors to interact with. Hoffman’s Lancaster Dodd seemingly has the answer to all of Quell’s problems and comes across as a hypnotic saviour. The two share a father-son dynamic as Phoenix’s character spends most of his time spellbound by the unmistakable intellect emitted by Hoffman’s Dodd, whose genuineness is always in question. Amy Adams plays Peggy Dodd, and her nonchalant, suppressed attitude is both endearing and eerie — particularly in comparison to her husband’s grandiose demeanour. The supporting cast made up of Ambyr Childers, Rami Malek and Jesse Plemons amongst others are all equally accommodating, but it is the three mentioned in detail who shine. It is no surprise that Phoenix, Hoffman and Adams were each nominated for Academy Awards for their respective roles — the only surprise is The Master left the 2013 ceremony empty handed.

A challenging enactment of a broken man trying to readjust to post-war surroundings, The Master is another Paul Thomas Anderson success story. Nourished by extensively well-written characters performed emphatically and accompanied by mesmerising cinematography, The Master is just one additional degree of clarity away from masterful.

Tag: Jesse Plemons

Bridge of Spies (2015)

The Master (2012)