Conclave is top-class, grown-up entertainment

Conclave, adapted from Robert Harris’s 2016 novel, is possibly not the sort of film I would usually think of watching – though I enjoyed The Two Popes when I streamed it in February. I might not have any faith left myself, but given my heavily religious background (very evangelical Methodist) I can still understand and appreciate Biblical debate, and almost inevitably find myself retaining an interest in religion in general.

I only really became aware of this film when seeing the trailer last week and, finding some of the rave reviews it’s been getting (including from the likes of Mark Kermode), decided to give it a go.

It opens with Cardinal-Dean Lawrence (Ralph Fiennes) hurrying toward the Vatican to oversee arrangements after the pope has died. Aside from mourning his religiously progressive leader, it means that Lawrence will now have to organise and oversee the conclave of the world’s Catholic cardinals that elects the next pope.

The cardinals have been readying themselves for this – positioning themselves for possible election and campaigning among the rest of their number. The primary contenders are Aldo Cardinal Bellini, an American liberal (Stanley Tucci); Joseph Cardinal Tremblay, a Canadian moderate (John Lithgow); Goffredo Cardinal Tedesco, a right-wing Italian who wants the Mass to be said in Latin again (Sergio Castellitto); and Joshua Cardinal Adeyemi (Lucian Msamati), a popular Nigerian candidate with conservative social views.

But on the eve of the conclave, one Vincent Cardinal Benitez (Carlos Diehz) arrives in the Vatican – a Mexican archbishop apparently appointed by the late pope without anyone else knowing – and working as the cardinal of Kabul in Afghanistan. Suspicions are raised.

There were already whispers about the pope’s last hours and final meeting, and Benitez’s presence only adds to the suggestions of conspiracy and dodgy doings.

The scheming between the candidates and their supporters is barely hidden – though it involves noir whispered talks in quiet corners and comments that only a cardinal that didn't want to be pope would be a suitable one. But who doesn't, at some level, harbour the ambition?

In terms of the performances, it is a wonderful ensemble cast – and that absolutely includes not only all the actors named above, but also Isabella Rossellini as senior nun Sister Agnes, who gets to deliver a truth bomb that is magnificent – and conclude it with a gesture that has seen audiences laughing at screenings (not just the one I attended).

Edward Berger’s film is pretty much perfect as a piece of grown-up entertainment. It’s intelligent. It’s quite easy to see that the world of the Catholic church presented here could also be the corporate or political worlds, so this is not ‘about’ religion. It’s about ambition, power and the gaining and use of that by human beings who, even at their best, are not perfect.

I’ve tended to avoid films of much over 90 minutes in the last year: this comes in at two hours, but Berger’s direction means this doesn’t feel close to that. The pacing is spot on for the tension. Peter Straughan’s screenplay from Harris’s novel is superb: dryly witty, never condescending. It feels so timely, given what the world is seeing today in terms of regressive politics.

Similarly, Volker Bertelmann’s soundtrack is spot on. Stéphane Fontaine’s cinematography is a joy. The mostly muted colours – creamy marble, greys and whites – set against cardinal red – are stark. Some scenes have a feeling of having been choregraphed to almost Busby Berkley levels – cardinals in the rain with their uniform white umbrellas, shot from above, is just one, while the ceremonial aspects and rituals are superb, treated with complete seriousness and respect, yet also revealing the performance and theatre at the centre of church life.

A little personal note here for context (well, I did start this post with one!).

Until I stopped attending church altogether in my mid-twenties, I had drifted away from evangelical Methodism and toward high Anglicanism. I appreciated the theatricality, performance and ritual of services. And I continue to very much appreciate religious music – not the Gospel songs of Billy Graham-style crusade rallies, which haunt me unpleasantly, but works such as the requiems of Mozart, Fauré and Britten.

But let's get back to the review.

If I have any slight complaint, it's that the character of Tedesco is perhaps made to be overly obviously awful. He stands in the refectory vaping, yet refuses to stand for prayers in the Sistine Chapel – just two shows of contempt for most of his brother cardinals, despite he himself being the one that wants 'tradition' brought back. But perhaps that's being over sensitive when we live in a world full of real pantomime villains who are actually very dangerous.

As Lawrence, Fiennes is outstanding. For all the very carefully played camp of the film in general (it's a balancing act Berger gets spot on), his is a stunningly subtle performance. Acting with the eyes, as it were, is an absolute art and he is as good at it as Anthony Hopkins. His own inner struggle so often needs no words to be crystal clear. If he isn’t in the Oscar noms next spring, there’ll be something wrong with the film world.

And the ending – true to the book – is done with real class, even though it may not be quite what some would expect, given its extraordinary topicality.

I cannot recommend it highly enough. Seriously superior entertainment, with an actual ethical heart and message.

A sensitive exploration of what being queer means

Layla is the feature debut from non-binary British-Iraqi drag artist and film maker Amrou Al-Kadhi, and uses a deceptively traditional romantic story to explore the difficulties of navigating a life caught between queer and religious/ethic identities.

Layla (deadname Latif) is a non-binary drag queen from a Muslim family, who is living in London with three queer friends and has already become a star within their community.

 

However, they’re also trying to balance this with not being out to their family and, when they go back to visit, perform a conventional straight cis role. They are convinced that they cannot possibly be who they really are with their own family.

 

When they meet Max after a performance at a corporate London Pride do that goes spectacularly – and very funnily – wrong, the pair quickly start developing a romantic bond. But they’re also streets apart in terms of their lives. Max is from a well-to-do, white, middle-class family who are accepting of his rather beige gayness, but when Layla meets them, it’s clear that there are underlying issues around racism, Islamophobia and class.

 

And to add, Layla’s newly-married sister is moving to London with her husband.

 

This is a very sensitive film, while also being very frank. It is very unjudgmental and also helps to really explain what, for many LGBT+ people, ‘queer’ means.

 

Al-Kadhi’s direction and screenplay are excellent. Bilal Hasna as Layla is simply superb, while Louis Greatorex as Max is also very good. Indeed, It’s a very fine cast all around.

 

This was screened earlier this year at the BFI’s Flare festival and is now on more general release. It’s a very good addition to LGBTQI film.

A taste of brilliant cinema

A bit of catch-up cinema today, with a first viewing of A Taste of Honey, the 1961 film from director Tony Richardson from Shelagh Delaney’s 1958 play of the same name, which they jointly adapted.

An iconic piece of British New Wave – often described as kitchen sink drama – it opens as 17-year-old Jo is nearing the end of her time in school, desperate to escape both that and her self-absorbed, good-time mother Helen.

But even in her last few days at school, her mother hasn’t paid the rent, so the pair have to make a dash from their grubby lodgings to escape – not for the first time.

On the way to somewhere new to stay, Jo is helped with heavy suitcases by a young black man, Jimmy. Later, walking alongside the Manchester Ship Canal – she meets him again. He’s a cook on a ship that’s temporarily docked there. They begin a brief courtship.

Meanwhile, Helen has hooked up with a new boyfriend, Peter – clearly quite successful financially, but also rather seedy – who wants to make “an honest woman” of her. When a ‘family’ weekend trip to Blackpool goes wrong, Jo heads back to Manchester alone and bumps into Jimmy. They make love.

The inevitable happens, but she is supported by Geoffrey, a gay textile student, who moves into her grubby digs, does things up and generally looks after her.

However, Helen isn’t happy about that.

This is a very good film. From a personal perspective, it’s set in a part of the country I know – even if only some years later than the film was made – and has a resonance on that level.

It’s unflinching in terms of its approach to the post-war state of the country – children play on bomb sites and Jo is, more than once, disgusted to see children who are clearly not being looked after properly (a reflection of her own experience of growing up).

It’s not simplistic, though, never making the mistake of not understanding why we reach for moments of happiness, even if those can ultimately be costly.

The cast is uniformly excellent. Dora Bryan as Helen makes a mockery of any idea that she was ever ‘only’ a light comic actor. Robert Stephens is subtle in the role of the unpleasant, sexist Peter.

Both Paul Danquah as Jimmy and Murray Melvin as Geoffrey turn in nuanced performances that never fall into the trap of cliché.

To add, John Addison’s music is very effective – predominantly with the use of children singing, which reminds us of how young Jo in particular is.

Very much worth a watch.

Would you be a friend of Dorothy?

A hugely hygge weekend offered the opportunity for loads of reading. Having finished Bernadine Evaristo’s fabulous Mr Loverman on Saturday afternoon, I dived straight in to Sandi Toksvig’s new novel, Friends of Dorothy.

Police officer Stevie and paramedic Amber are not long married and they believe they’ve found the perfect home at 4 Grimaldi Square in London – albeit the square is generally rather run-down and with a nosy neighbour who’s shocked to discover she’s now living next door to married lesbians, and a nearly dead pub on one corner.

But when they go to move in, they find that Dorothy, the 80-year-old, foul-mouthed, straight-talking, wise-cracking woman they had bought the house from – has decided that she’s not moving out.

What follows draws in more local characters and develops into a sort of ‘caper’ book. I’ve heard the phrase ‘caper film’ more than once, but this really is the first time I can recall thinking of a book as a ‘caper book’. But I can’t think of it as anything else, given some of the scenes – and one late scene in particular.

Yet don’t let that con you. It is also remarkably subtle too. Toksvig uses her story to touch on class, race – and, of course, LGBTQ – issues, without being heavy-handed about it.

There are a number of interweaving stories here, all of which Toksvig uses to illustrate her central premise of “logical, not biological” families. The old saying is that ‘you can choose your friends but not your family’, yet some in the LGBT+ community are challenging that idea and what constitutes your family and how you organise/deal with such relationships.

It might sound ‘light’ – and it is, in many ways – but Toksvig is a really skilled storyteller and that’s why it never feels like you’re being lectured to. As a tiny example, while she never says whether Grimaldi Square is in north, south, east or west London, it felt so recognisable to me that I had a sense of ‘knowing’ that it was not far from where I live in east London.

It’s a funny story, but with real, real heart. A lovely, humane read. I got through its 350 pages in less than 24 hours, which should tell you something.

Kaos reigns – and long may it do so!

‘The all-powerful yet insecure god Zeus starts to fear his end of reign when he spots a wrinkle on his forehead. He becomes increasingly paranoid and vindictive toward his followers.

At the same time, three humans start to discover their connections with each other and grand conspiracies involving the residents of Mount Olympus.’

 

That’s a version of the precis from Wikipedia of the eight-part Netflix series Kaos.

 

It’s a black comedy from British writer Charlie Covell that takes the myths and puts them in a modern setting. It’s brilliantly realised, with an excellent script, great design and a superb use of music.

 

I’d always found the Greek/Roman myths un-interesting – until reading Colm Tóibín’s House of Names, a very serious re-working of the myths of Agamemnon and Clytemnestra, which I hugely appreciated (I read it because I hugely appreciate Tóibín’s work). This is helping me enjoy the myths even more. Funnily enough, I bought Tony, my late partner, a signed copy of Stephen Fry’s Mythos a few years ago and might well read that now.

 

And then there’s the cast. Jeff Goldblum is an absolute hoot as Zeus – staying JUST the right side of completely OTT. But there’s also the fabulous Janet McTeer as his wife Hera, Aurora Perrineau as Eurydice, David Thewlis as Hades, Rakie Ayola as Persephone, Nabhaan Rizwan as Dionysis, Stephen Dillane as Prometheus (who gets to do a lot of breaking the fourth wall, brilliantly well), Misia Butler as Caeneus and Suzy/Eddie Izzard as Lachy, one of The Fates. And that’s just to mention a few of a superb ensemble!

 

I love the diversity of it – and I have spent time Googling various characters to see how accurate these new versions are. So for instance, in the series, Caeneus is a trans man. I looked it up – and yes, born Caenis, they were transformed by “Poseidon into an invulnerable man”.

 

I mostly watch films and sport on TV and rarely get excited over anything else (Picard season 3 last year was the last time), but this has just blown me away. It’s absolutely set up for a second season (though still awaiting Netflix announcement on that) but this was/is brilliant fun and I will be watching again!

The Man with the Answers is utterly charming

The Man with the Answers is writer and director Stelios Kammitsis’s quirky and charming 2021 film that combines being a gay romantic drama with a beautifully photographed road movie.

It opens in Greece, where Viktorias, a former champion diver, is now working in a furniture factory. His mother left Greece some years before to go and live with her new partner in Bavaria and, when her mother dies, she doesn’t bother to either return for or contribute to the funeral, leaving Viktorias to sell his diving medals to pay for the send-off for his beloved grandmother.
 
Grieving and depressed, he decides to take his mother’s abandoned Audi and drive to Germany to visit. On the ferry from Greece to Italy, he encounters Mathias, an eccentric German student who persuades Viktorias to let him join the trip – and from there, to guide him away from the motorways and into a more scenic route as they head north, in what becomes a much more enlightening trip.
 
It's a gentle film that uses its 80 minutes to delicately plot the development of the relationship between the two men, which is often fraught – and perhaps particularly the development of trust.
 
Vasilis Magouliotis and Anton Weil as Viktorias and Mathias respectively are thoroughly engaging and convincing. Stella Fyrogeni as Angeliki, Viktorias’s mother, gives a nice performance in the late stages of the film.
 
Antonis Kataris as the funeral director is worth a mention as for being quite effectively creepy at seeing the death as a way of mounting up the profit.

And Thodoros Mihopoulos’s cinematography is excellent.
Really enjoyable – and currently streaming on Sky.

Parallel – using sci-fi for a powerful take on grief

Described generally as a ‘science fiction thriller’, this year’s Parallel – a remake of the 2019 Chinese film Parallel Forest, and re-written by brothers Aldis and Edwin Hodge, together with Jonathon Keasey – is a seriously good film that seems to have picked up less attention than it should have when it appeared in UK cinemas earlier this year.

I was looking for something to watch this evening after work and noticed that it is currently available on Sky. My memory was jogged to remembering a trailer seen on cinema visits earlier this year. That trailer doesn't do it justice.

 

Vanessa is mourning the loss of her and her husband Alex’s son, Obi, who died a year previously in a car crash that was not the fault of either of them, though she seems confused over who was driving at the time.

 

They live in a very nice home, with Martel, Alex’s brother, effectively surrounded by forest and with a nearby lake and increasingly strange things start to happen. The men’s father had apparently thought the area ‘strange’, yet the film opens with only Vanessa seeming to experience such.

 

Although the couple have had counselling, she is withdrawing further and further from life. And then she finds herself facing herself in the forest, in a parallel universe.

 

It’s subtle and low-key for cinema sci-fi these days. In some ways very simply told, with no (discernible) special effects – and kudos to director Kourosh Ahari for that. But while it’s ‘sci-fi’, its core themes are loss, grief, and trauma, and they are very well and sensitively dealt with.

 

Very good cinematography from Pip White, and an equally good soundtrack from Josh Atchley and Denise Santos.

 

It is a three-hander, and the Hodge brothers play both the male roles (very well). But much here relies on Vanessa, and Danielle Deadwyler is excellent in the role, really catching the complexity of the emotional experience of loss, grief and guilt.

And the ending packs a surprising punch.

As I said – it's on Sky now and very much worth watching.